**Heavy Breathing**


    The air became thick, and uneven, like the very dungeon itself was struggling to survive. My blood dripped onto the cold floor; each drop a reminder of how I was on deaths door.


    My mana spiraled wildly, spiraling out of control.


    As if it too, had been wounded in battle.


    The silent humming of mana echoed in the dungeon; the only sound that cut through was silence.


    I could feel it—the dungeon was alive. It has always been alive, but now… now, it was watching us. Waiting for its new master.


    I looked up, vision swimming, and saw the space around us begin to shift. The dungeon was no longer a cold, dark maze—it was changing.


    Becoming something else.


    The walls twisted and contorted as if the stone were lungs. The air grew thicker, heavy with magic, the room expanded. In the distance, where Schutz stood, a pedestal emerged from the floor, a gleaming emerald-green carpet stretching toward it, leading up to the platform.


    And there—on the pedestal—a crystal.


    It floated, pulsing, radiating an eerie green light that flickered like a heartbeat.


    “I-I see…” Schutz whispered, his voice barely a breath.


    “The temple wants to know if you’re worthy,” he sneered, his eyes gleaming with chaotic joy.


    “To become its new master.”


    I froze. What is he talking about?


    “HAHAHAH!” Schutz laughed, tearing off his chest and gauntlet armor, revealing a sigil on his forearm—a shield.


    My breath caught in my throat as I stared at it.


    He has one as well.


    “Like you, Ryn!” he shouted. “I possess a sigil, mine is TRUE—yours? Well, let’s see if it’s false.”


    His sigil flared to life, brighter and more intense. His broadsword and skin seemed to become sturdier as if armored.


    He surged forward with rapid speed that sent my pulse spiking. I gasped for breath, barely having time to speak.


    “BEAT ME, RYN! AND I SHALL BESTOW UPON YOU ALL THE KNOWLEDGE—NO ALL THE STRENGTH I PROTECT!”


    His voice was booming, rage and power poured into him like a flame.


    Before I could even think, Schutz was on me. I barely managed to block his attack, my arms straining against his force. With a brutal toss—he sent me slamming into multiple pillars, each impact knocking the breath from my lungs.


    I didn’t have time to recover. I hit the ground, my vision blurry, my clothing more tattered.


    Every inch of my body was screaming in pain, but what cut deeper was the voice in my mind—doubting.


    My thoughts spiraled.


    I was given this new life. It is a gift, I thought.


    But all I’ve done is focus on what was.


    My life before… before this.


    Before I became Ryn.


    The pain, the suffocating pressure of it all, pressed me down. I became cold. I became heartless. Just like my parents in my old life. That’s why I enlisted.


    I’m no better than them. The words echoed in my mind, tearing at me.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    My mana was running low. I-I can’t…..I can’t keep going.


    But then, a voice—my voice—whispered through the storm of my thoughts.


    “You’re no longer weak”


    The words pierced through the confusion, through the phantom pain. They made me—remember—what I wanted to be in this life.


    I have strength…I made a promise….


    And then—Daryl. Ryn. Reaper. Names I had carried, shackles I had worn. The weight of all of them collided in my chest.


    “You can die now…” the voice whispered.


    But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.


    I had to pick who I was now.


    I looked at my hand—my sigil glowing bright as the dungeon pulsed with life around me. And then, the voice echoed again.


    It was mine—my own voice.


    “They’re waiting for you, Ryn. If you give up now, you’ll be no better than Alaric thinks you are.”


    No more hiding.


    Show them who you are.


    What you’ve fought for.


    What you’ve sacrificed to become


    To become the Strongest Spellblade.


    A flicker of recognition lit in my chest. Yes……


    The phantom pain that once crippled me began to fade.


    The agony of the Reaper, the role I equipped, began to drop away. My past life….it was slipping through my fingers, like sand in the wind.


    Only my voice remained. The voice of Ryn Ashford.


    The ground trembled beneath me, and in the flash of beaming light, my Complete Scythe appeared in my hand. I felt the weight of it, the power, the promise that it carried.


    AGHHH! I yelled out, it wasn''t fear.


    It was defiance.


    “YOU!” My eyes burned with focus.


    “I can’t die here” I roared, my grip tightening on the handle.


    The dungeon watches.


    “YES! RYN! YES!” "May we fight in these royal HALLS!” Schutz yelled, his voice a twisted roar.


    We sprinted toward each other in a blur, the floor beneath us a silent witness to our battle.


    My scythe, glowing with power, whipped through the air with the ferocity that matched my heartbeat, and in the next instant, it wrapped around his broadsword. Our blood still dripping from our mouths, staining the green, emerald carpet.


    The only thing keeping us alive, keeping us moving forward, was that defiant rage against the pull of death.


    CLANG!


    CLANG!


    CLANG!


    The sound of magic and metal echoed through the room, drowning out all else. With a swift motion, I kicked Schutz down. His legs buckled, and he stumbled back a step, spitting out blood. The taste of iron filling his mouth.


    His eyes burned with frustration as he wiped the blood from his lips.


    “GRRRR! Feuer!” He roared.


    It was the same spell he had tried to use against Elnora—but this time, it was different. The flame began to gather around his broadsword, coiling like a lion.


    I could feel it coming. I raised my scythe in defense, preparing myself from the blast. My sigil flickered, glowing brighter than before.


    The dungeon has decided.


    The crystal on the pedestal—the heart of this place—began to illuminate. A vibrant green light spiraled from the crystal, casting an eerier shadow across the room.


    The green light surged through the air, and into my sigil.


    The moment it connected, a burst of energy detonated around me.


    BLAM!


    The force of it sent both Schutz and me flying backward, the shockwave knocking the breath from my lungs. My vision blurred, my body a mass of pain.


    As the smoke cleared, I saw Schutz on the floor, his broadsword broken, a hole through his chest.


    I fell to my knees, the weight of exhaustion crashing down. I pushed my body to its limits. I had to.


    I had no choice.


    But in that moment a sharp pain came across my chest.


    The feeling of…. Death.


    Then my vision went dark.


    Boot noises.


    A rhythm echoed through the temple.


    The sound was distant at first, but it grew sharper, carrying absolute authority.


    “Ah, the old man was right. You were able to beat him. How ruthless…..”


    Alex’s voice cut through the haze of pain and death. He stood over the broken body of Schutz, his gaze unreadable. Blood pooled beneath the fallen knight, a silent testament to a brutal battle.


    Slowly, Alex’s eyes drifted to my body.


    “You’re almost dead, huh? I can’t allow that to happen.”


    His tone was flat—unmoved, almost indifferent.


    He stepped forward—mana flared around him. His pink mana was refined, controlled, it filled the dungeon with intensity.


    Then, his fingers grasped around the green crystal atop the pedestal.


    It pulsed under his grasp.


    Kneeling beside me, Alex didn’t hesitate.


    He jammed the crystal into my chest.


    A purple-hot agony ripped through me. My body convulsed, my back arching as I spat blood.


    My breath hitched, my body felt like it was changing.


    Then—BOOM


    A surge of mana exploded within me, wild and uncontrolled. My once-red mana twisted into something… A deep violent purple. The air crackled around me, raw power, more power than I wielded prior.


    I could feel the magicules around me kneel. The dungeon around me I understood it.


    My sigil—the Reapers Sigil–began to fade.


    Then everything went black again.


    Only thing I could hear was a voice.


    No pain, no weight—just an endless void.


    Then…. voices. Distant, yet familiar.


    “Ryn..”


    A soft call, wavering as if carried by the wind.


    “Hey, we’re all missing you..”


    The voice—clearer this time.


    “Hey, Ryn I heard it was your birthday today!”


    The words rippled through the void, tugging at me.


    “Your mom came by today she so pretty!”


    “RYN!”


    The voice cracked with desperation.


    “Lilli isn’t mad at you anymore… we told her everything.”


    “She’s here with me right now.”


    A choked sob.


    “I know it’s late, but I miss you…. Ryn.”


    Then, a chorus—calling my name over and over.


    Ryn!


    Ryn!


    Ryn!


    A pulse came through my unconsciousness.


    I… I know that voice.


    I wasn’t sure how long I was in this abyss—it felt like seconds.


    But my mind slowly began to open, the void shattering.


    When I finally came to it, I was lying in an unfamiliar room.


    An infirmary.


    Four months had passed.