The sole room inside the building was stark, a single, circular stone stairway heading down dominating the center of it. Surrounded by a thin metal railing, the air hung heavy over the Pit, thick with an almost palpable anticipation. A small waiting area, sparsely furnished with uncomfortable-looking benches, lined one wall. Otherwise, the room was eerily empty.


    “Quite the spectacle,” Klarion muttered, his gaze sweeping over the descending staircase.


    Hector chuckled, “Indeed. Though perhaps less so than you might have expected.”


    Hatsune, standing beside him, shivered slightly. “It feels… cold. And old.”


    “Because it is,” Hector replied, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Dungeons are not mere constructions. They are entities, woven from the fabric of Essence, imbued with their own will. They grow, adapt, and sometimes fight back.” He gestured towards the staircase. “This one… this one has a reputation.”


    Klarion felt a shiver go down his spine. “And what reputation is that?”


    Hector leaned closer, his eyes gleaming. “They say the Pit whispers.”


    What did that mean?


    As they walked closer to the stairway down, Hector continued. “I would imagine it’s a test of some sort. Dungeons like the Pit are essential to Combat Studies, and from what my cousin said, additional classes for later years at the Academy. They provide controlled chaos — a place to test yourself without unleashing destruction on the Academy grounds. But make no mistake, they’re dangerous. Each Dungeon is unique, shaped by the Essences around it. For the Pit, some speculate it mirrors the ambitions and conflicts of those who enter it.”


    Klarion frowned, wondering at the implications of what Hector was saying. “So it adapts to its challengers?”


    “Precisely,” Hector confirmed. “It’s why forming the right party is critical. The Pit doesn’t just test individuals; it tests dynamics. Who leads, who supports, who breaks under pressure.”


    Klarion’s frown deepened as Hector’s words settled in his mind. A Dungeon that adapts to its challengers wasn’t just dangerous — it was insidious. The concept gnawed at him, a blend of intrigue and unease swirling in his thoughts.


    Silence stretched between them for a moment before Hector sighed. “Look, if you’re serious about surviving down there, you should know what you’re getting into. That’s all I’m trying to say. The problem is that the Pit is largely unpredictable—it reshapes itself every time a new group enters. But over the years, a few patterns have emerged. At least, that’s what I have been able to find out.”


    Klarion turned to face Hector fully. “Patterns?”


    Hector nodded. “Three common configurations. Let me explain.” He held up a finger. “The first configuration is that of the classic Labyrinth. It’s a sprawling maze of narrow corridors, twisting paths, and dead ends once you descend the stairwell into the Dungeon itself. Pitch black, save for faintly glowing moss or simple torches that barely light the way. Traps are everywhere, from pressure plates to collapsing walls. The monsters in this setup are usually ambush predators as well.”


    Klarion listened intently, his eyes narrowing as he absorbed the information. “And the other two?”


    “I’m getting to them,” Hector gently chided, then held up a second finger. “The second configuration is like an Arena. It’s open spaces with minimal cover, designed to force direct confrontations. Think massive chambers with towering pillars and rubble. The monsters in this setup are usually brute types.” Hector held up a third finger. “The last common configuration is what has been terms the Descent. This one is often the deadliest. It’s a series of vertical staircases, suspended platforms, and endless opportunities to fall. Gravity is your greatest enemy here, but the monsters make it worse.”


    “Sounds charming.”


    “It gets better.” Hector chuckled without humor. “The Pit has only one Boss per run, but no one’s ever fought the same one twice. It’s different every time someone reaches the final chamber. Some say it reflects the fears or weaknesses of those who face it. Others believe the Dungeon creates something entirely new each time, testing challengers in ways they’re least prepared for.”


    “Basically impossible to prepare for, is what you’re saying,” Klarion said, his tone dry.


    “Exactly, and it’s not just the variety that makes it dangerous,” Hector pressed. “My cousin said that, when she delved it, the Boss adapted itself to her fighting style mid-battle. Apparently, it learns from you, so if you rely too much on one tactic, it’ll find a way to counter it.”


    Klarion considered what Hector was saying, and could come to only one conclusion. “So it comes down to the party itself. But how do you even choose a party? Trust seems… complicated at the Academy.”


    Hector gave a chuckle that had an edge to it. “Complicated is putting it lightly. Partnerships in the Pit, much as with any Dungeon on this pocket plane, are as much about politics as they are about capability. You want strength, yes, but also loyalty — or at least, a lack of immediate betrayal.”


    Klarion’s expression darkened slightly. Something seemed off. “And if you choose wrong?”


    “Well,” Hector said, lowering his voice conspiratorially, “that’s where things get… interesting. Dungeons operate under a different set of rules. Actions within them don’t carry the same consequences as those outside.”


    “What do you mean by that?” Klarion asked sharply, sensing an undertone that didn’t sit well with him.


    Hector hesitated for a moment as if gauging whether to continue. Then, with a casual shrug, he said, “Let’s just say Dungeons are the perfect loophole for resolving disputes. Rivalries can be… terminated, and it’s all chalked up to the inherent danger of the challenge.”This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    The words hit Klarion like a block of ice. His gaze snapped to Hector, his posture rigid. “You’re saying scions use the Pit to kill their rivals.”


    At his accusation, Hatsune tensed, her hand slowly going to her side to rest on the hilt of her longsword, eyes fixed on Hector who slowly backed away out of her range.


    Hector held up his hands, a disarming smile on his lips. “I’m not saying it’s common, but… well, accidents happen. The Academy can’t monitor inside of a Dungeon.”


    “That’s barbaric,” Hatsune said, her voice low but trembling with anger. “How can the Academy allow it?”


    “They don’t condone it, of course,” Hector replied, his tone still infuriatingly casual. “But they don’t exactly prevent it either. Dungeons like the Pit are dangerous by nature after all. If someone doesn’t come out, it’s the Dungeon’s fault, not theirs.”


    Klarion’s expression went flat, unreadable. Inside, however, a storm brewed. He’d known the Academy would be a crucible, a place where power dynamics would play out in every class. But this? This was something else entirely.


    “Based on the look you are giving me, I take it you don’t approve,” Hector said, stepping to the side, which Klarion noticed gave his blue-scaled bodyguard a clear line of sight. “But think about it, Klarion. In a place like this, sometimes the only way to survive is to make sure your enemies don’t.”


    Klarion met Hector’s gaze, his eyes cold. “I don’t need to stoop to murder to prove myself.”


    Hector scoffed, clearly unimpressed. “Idealism has its place, I suppose. But don’t let it blind you. The Pit doesn’t care about morals, and neither do most of the scions here.”


    Klarion stared at the scion he thought could have become another friend at the Academy. Something gnawed at the edges of his mind, a disquiet he couldn’t shake. Hector’s words echoed in his head: “Sometimes the only way to survive is to make sure your enemies don’t.”


    Klarion’s stomach churned. Hector had seemed so genuine, even friendly, in their earlier conversations. But the closer they had come to the entrance of the Dungeon, the more Klarion began piecing together the signs he had missed. Hector’s insistence they come down here, his bodyguard’s ever-watchful gaze, the casual way Hector had dismissed the Academy’s cutthroat nature as if it were a game he played with ease.


    The block of ice turned into a blizzard.


    Was this Hector’s plan all along? To isolate them in a place where rules barely existed and help wouldn’t arrive in time? A knot of dread tightened in his stomach. He clenched his fists, readying himself.


    “Are you one of those people, Hector?” Klarion asked.


    Hector hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I like to think I’m pragmatic, not heartless. But to answer your unstated questions, and to save us some time, I’ve thrown my lot in with Chadwick. Not because I like the man, but because he promised to intercede on my behalf with House Brightcoin with some… issues my family has been dealing with.”


    “You’re being used. You know that, don’t you?”


    “Of course I know,” Hector spat in anger. “But I’m willing to pay that price if it means keeping my family safe. I’d prefer things were different,” Hector continued, voice softening somewhat. “Honestly, I like you. You’re refreshing—different from the usual posturing idiots around here. But the Academy isn’t a place for friendships, Klarion. It’s a place for survival.”


    “Is that what you call letting Chadwick get away with whatever he wants?” Klarion growled.


    Hector’s jaw visibly clenched. “You think I like what he does? How he… hungers after your Leporine? It disgusts me. But all I can do is make sure she doesn’t fall into his hands, no matter how much he pushes for it.”


    Before Klarion could respond, the snakekin bodyguard moved. In a sudden blur of blue scales and muscle, the bodyguard rushed forward. Klarion tensed, ready for the blow, but to his horror, the snakekin dashed past him.


    Hatsune.


    Turning, Klarion saw the snakekin jerk himself to a halt, transferring all his momentum to a sharp, ruthless kick aimed directly at the Leporine’s torso. The force of the blow sent her flying backward, her balance lost as she slammed into the metal railing, causing it to break into pieces around her.


    “Hatsune!” Klarion shouted, reaching for her, but it was too late. He was too slow.


    Hatsune’s eyes widened in shock as she fell, her body disappearing over the edge and into the Dungeon below. Her scream echoed up out of the darkness of the abyss she descended into, her small form swallowed by the darkness below.


    Klarion raised his fists, cursing the fact he had left his greatsword behind before going to class. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said, voice trembling with fury. “She wasn’t even part of this.”


    Hector sighed, looking away as if he couldn’t meet Klarion’s accusing gaze. “It wasn’t personal,” he said quietly. “You should know how this works, Klarion. She’s bonded to you, which makes her part of the game whether you like it or not.”


    “This isn’t a game, Hector. This is betrayal. You will regret this.”


    Hector winced, the regret in his expression deepening. “I regret a lot of things,” he admitted, voice heavy. “But doing what I must to save my House, my family, isn’t one of them.”


    Klarion’s rage flared. “Even if it means betraying someone who might’ve stood beside you? Someone who might have considered you a friend?”


    Hector met his gaze at last, his expression hardening. “Yes,” he said simply. “Because survival isn’t pretty. My family is on the brink of ruin, Klarion. Chadwick promised Brightcoin’s support—resources, alliances, protection. Things you and your House can’t provide right now. Without it, my House will fall. My siblings will lose their futures. My parents… everything they’ve worked for will be gone. I can’t let that happen.”


    “And all they required was for you to play this game?” Klarion spat in anger.


    Guilt flickered across Hector’s face for a moment before settling into resolve once more. “I don’t expect you to understand,” he said. “You may follow such ideals. But I don’t have that luxury. This is my reality, Klarion.”


    The door that served as the entrance to the Dungeon waiting area creaked open behind Hector, and Klarion’s stomach dropped as a group of first-year scions and their bodyguards stepped inside, the metallic clang of their boots against stone reverberating through the room.


    One of the scions, a wiry human woman with calculating eyes, smirked as she led the group up behind Hector. “Looks like the mighty Blacksword is about to take a fall,” she sneered.


    Behind her, a burly human man with an axe strapped to his back chuckled darkly. “Heard that scions of House Blacksword were supposed to be tough. Guess we’ll see if the stories are true.”


    Hector raised a hand, and the others reluctantly quieted. His gaze softened slightly as he looked at Klarion, but the determination in his eyes didn’t waver. “You don’t deserve this,” he said. “But neither do I. And neither does my family.”


    Klarion’s jaw clenched, his mind racing as he scanned the room. Hatsune was gone, swallowed by the Dungeon. He didn’t know if she’d survived the fall—or what might already be hunting her in the darkness below. His chest ached with the weight of his helplessness.


    “You’re making a mistake, Hector,” Klarion said, desperately trying one last time. “Chadwick doesn’t care about your House. When you’re done here, he’ll throw you away like you’re throwing me down into the Dungeon.”


    Hector flinched but refused to look away. “Maybe,” he admitted. “But if there’s even a chance he’ll keep his word, I have to take it.”


    “You’re a fool.”


    “Maybe,” Hector repeated. He gestured to the hole in the metal railing. “Now, Klarion, you have a choice. You can jump in yourself and spare us all the trouble, or we can throw you in.”


    The other scions behind Hector exchanged eager glances, their bodyguards stepping forward with weapons drawn. The room felt smaller, the air heavier, as the tension mounted.


    Klarion met his gaze, unflinching. “You’ll regret this, Hector. I promise you that.”


    Without hesitation, Klarion turned and hurled himself over the edge.


    Down into the Dungeon.