The screaming started before Misaki was fully aware it was coming from his own throat.
Vellin pressed the heated iron against his thigh where Null'kwe's claws had torn through leather and flesh, and the smell of burning meat filled the air. Misaki's entire body convulsed, his back arching off the ground as agony unlike anything he'd experienced shot through every nerve.
"Hold him!" Vellin commanded, her voice tight but steady.
Riyeak's massive hands clamped down on Misaki's shoulders, pinning him to the stone floor of their makeshift camp. Deylos gripped his legs, preventing him from thrashing and making the wound worse. They were two hours outside the dungeon entrance, far enough to be relatively safe but still close enough that the dark archway was visible against the desert scrubland.
"Bite down," Deylos said, wedging a thick piece of wood between Misaki's teeth. "This is going to get worse."
Misaki bit down hard as Vellin pressed the iron against another section of the wound. The heat seared through damaged tissue, cauterizing blood vessels and sealing the torn flesh. The smell was horrific—his own body burning, cooking from the outside in. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with sweat and the dust that coated everything.
"Almost done," Vellin said, her healer's training keeping her hands steady even as her face showed the strain of causing this much pain. "Just the ear left."
The ear was somehow worse. The bone projectile had torn straight through the cartilage, leaving a ragged hole. When the heated iron touched the damaged tissue, Misaki's scream became a raw, animalistic sound that couldn't be contained even by the wood clenched in his teeth.
His vision went white. His consciousness flickered. For a blessed moment, he thought he might pass out and escape the agony.
Then it was over.
Vellin pulled the iron away, and Misaki collapsed back against the ground, his entire body shaking. His throat was raw from screaming, his jaw ached from clenching, and the cauterized wounds throbbed with a deep, burning pain that would last for days.
"Done," Vellin said quietly, setting the iron aside to cool. "The bleeding's stopped. You won't die from blood loss."
Riyeak and Deylos released their grip, and Misaki curled onto his side, gasping for air between sobs he couldn't control. The wood fell from his mouth, and he could taste blood where he'd bitten his own tongue.
[Health: 58/100]
[Status: Cauterized Wounds - Healing Slowly]
[Pain Threshold: 89%]
[Warning: Approaching Physical Shock]
They gave him water, and Misaki drank greedily, using it to wash away the taste of blood and bile. His hands shook so badly he could barely hold the canteen.
"Rest," Vellin said, her professional demeanor cracking slightly to show exhaustion and concern. "You need to rest. We all do."
Misaki managed to sit up, his back against a rock formation, and looked toward the dungeon entrance. Even from this distance, perhaps half a kilometer away, the dark archway was visible—a wound in the landscape that led to horrors he'd never imagined possible.
"It was never unexplored," he said, his voice hoarse and broken. "Level Six. It wasn't unexplored."
The others turned to look at him.
"They went there," Misaki continued, staring at the dungeon with hollow eyes. "The three expeditions from M'lod. They made it to Level Six just like we did. They saw The Maw, they found the library, they probably even fought Null'kwe." His voice cracked. "They just never came back. They're still there. In the walls. Begging."
The weight of that realization settled over the group like a shroud. Vellin's face had gone pale. Riyeak stared at his hands, and Deylos looked away toward the horizon.
"How many?" Riyeak asked quietly. "How many people did we see in those walls?"
"Hundreds," Deylos answered, his lean face drawn. "Maybe more. Generations of adventurers, all absorbed. All kept alive and conscious." He swallowed hard. "That could have been us."
"It should have been us," Misaki said, and his voice was flat, emotionless. "We survived by feeding five people to that thing. We led them there. We knew what would happen."
"They were hunting us," Vellin said, but her voice lacked conviction. "They would have killed us for the chalice."
"Does that make it right?" Misaki looked at her, his eyes red from tears and trauma. "Does that make the sounds they made—" his voice broke, "—does that make their screams justified?"
The question hung in the air, unanswered.
Misaki could still hear them. The wet sounds of Null'kwe tearing through flesh. The crack of bones breaking. The old mage's final scream as his spine snapped. The young mage who'd fallen into the floor, his voice muffled as The Maw absorbed him. And underneath it all, the endless chorus of the victims in the walls—help us, kill us, please, mercy.
"I can still hear them," he whispered, his hands coming up to cover his ears as if that could block out memories. "All of them. The ones in the walls, the mages, all of them screaming."
Riyeak moved to sit beside him, the young giant's usual enthusiasm completely absent. "I hear them too," he admitted quietly. "I don't think I'll ever stop hearing them."
"That's the price," Deylos said, his archer's eyes distant as if seeing something far away. "Survival in a place like that—it costs more than blood. It costs pieces of who we are." He looked at each of them in turn. "We're not the same people who entered that dungeon. We never will be again."
Vellin stood abruptly, moving away from the group. Her shoulders were shaking, and though she tried to hide it, they could all hear the quiet sounds of her crying. The unflappable scout, the team leader who'd guided them through hell, finally breaking under the weight of what they'd witnessed and what they'd done.
Misaki looked down at his hands—bloodstained, shaking, still gripping the canteen. He thought about the chalice in his pack. Twenty gold. His freedom. His salvation.
"Was it worth it?" he asked the desert, the sky, the gods if any existed. "Was any of it worth this?"
No answer came. Only the wind, carrying sand and the distant sounds of the dungeon—sounds that might have been his imagination, or might have been the screams still echoing from Level Six's depths.
They sat in silence as Ulth'rk climbed higher in the sky, painting the desert in shades of amber and gold. Four people who'd survived the impossible, bearing wounds that would never fully heal.
And behind them, the Ruins of Kel'shara waited, patient and hungry, ready to devour the next generation of adventurers foolish enough to seek its treasures.
[Quest Updated: Debts and Consequences]
[Chalice Recovered: 20 gold value]
[Debt remaining: Can be paid]
[New Status: Traumatized - Recovery Time Unknown]
[Warning: Psychological damage detected]