When Nimirea enters the portal, the first thing that she notices is that the red hue that fills the place is much stronger than in any other floor. It makes sense, since the connection to the Secret Room is supposed to be on this floor, but then…

  Where’s the Boss?

  Nimirea sees many tendrils of red lightning bursting around the room, making even her uneasy.

  She sees Jacob standing thoughtlessly and, instinctively, pulls him closer.

  “That can kill you. It’s beyond True Diamond…” she says, hissing. “What has happened here?”

  “The Boss is there,” Jacob points and they both focus on a smoldering pile of chitin.

  “The Curse of the Mad God took over the Mad King again,” Nimirea says, looking around warily. “How do we get out, then?”

  Jacob clicks his tongue.

  “I can read the trajectory of the lightning with the Grimoire. Just… follow me.”

  Jacob starts walking in a zig-zag pattern and Nimirea can’t help but follow him, accepting the fact that there’s nothing else for her to do. If she walked wherever she wanted, it wouldn’t be long until one of those scary red lightnings would kill her.

  However, Jacob suddenly side-steps and she almost eats a lightning right in the face before she feels his hands on her waist, pulling her into him.

  “What are you doing?!” Nimirea shouts, but she sees the lightning pass where her head was moments ago.

  “Saving your life.”

  Is he stupid?! Nimirea wonders. I told him multiple times that I would take his life. I told him that nothing would stop me from doing so. He made actually good arguments for me not to take his Skill and I still told him I’ll take everything from him. Why is he saving me?!

  Jacob takes her hand and starts leading her, pushing her body this or that way as they waltz around the red lightning toward a spot that he seems focused on—right on the other side of the room.

  Feeling like it’s impossible to keep the question to herself, Nimirea finally explodes.

  “Why are you saving my damn life?!”

  “What are you blabbering about?” Jacob says, frowning, his focus entirely on keeping them alive.

  Nimirea suddenly releases his hand and takes a step back, making him reel and turn toward her.

  “What are you doing?!” he says.

  “This is it! You can just kill me here, idiot! At worst, we both die, but you can just get rid of me right now!”

  Jacob whips his head right and left, his eyes gleaming.

  “Nimirea, take my damn hand!” he says, trying to grab her. She steps back again and says, “why? Why are you doing this? What ploy is this?! Do you want me to follow you and be imprisoned, enslaved when I’m back at the Academy?! Do you think I’d fall for that?!”

  “Nimirea, what the hell are you talking about?! And why now?! You’re going to get yourself killed, take my damn hand!”

  “Why are you doing this?!”

  “I want to!” Jacob shouts in her face. “Are you stupid?!”

  “Why?!”

  “I just do!”

  “I want to murder you!”

  “FINE! YOU CAN TRY!”

  “I will!”

  “Good! Take my damn hand now!”

  Nimirea looks at Jacob’s hand and is so stunned by his responses that she zones out for a moment.

  Why would he want to save me? Is he stupid?

  She looks into his deep blue eyes, barely visible in the mess of this floor, and she wonders, who are you? What kind of insane, stupid man are you? Why do you let such insanity guide you?

  But now, she doesn’t realize that suddenly one red lightning arches toward her and Jacob, with his eyes wide, knowing there’s no more time, activates First Step of Mephistus and barrels into her, tackling her to the ground, with the red lightning partially hitting his back and almost making him black out from the pain.

  Nimirea feels like shouting now that he almost died. But, their faces are so close that she can make out all the little pearls of sweat on his face.

  For a long moment, they share and hold each other’s gaze.

  Then, Jacob whispers, “can we go now?”

  She can feel his warm, gentle breath on her lips.

  “Y—yes.”

  He helps her up, gritting his teeth. She takes a peek at his back where a large wound is bleeding him out.

  “Are you okay?” she asks, already knowing the answer.

  “It’s fine. Let’s just go. The Secret Room is close.”

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  Nimirea follows him without saying a word but she takes a vial out of her robe and hesitates for a moment.

  I—I can’t. He’s the enemy. Why would I help him now? What if me helping him helps him in the Secret Room? This could be the difference between—

  Nimirea stops her thoughts and just uncorks the vial and mutters a few spells. The liquid turns into dust and she blows it on Jacob’s back.

  “Hey!” Jacob suddenly seizes. “What are you doing? That itches!”

  “Shut up! Just keep it moving!”

  Nimirea looks as Jacob’s back slowly closes up and she bites her lower lip.

  You idiot. That’s another priceless potion.

  Even though she hasn’t revealed it to him, she’s an Alchemist of unparalleled talent.

  Finally, they reach a seemingly random place and Jacob’s hand starts glowing, he inscribes a few sigils in the air and she raises both her eyebrows as they’re suddenly pulled into another Dungeon room.

  “What the—“

  Nimirea turns around and she sees that there’s complete darkness around them.

  “Is this the Secret Room?” she asks.

  The Grimoire tells him where it is, most likely, but what kind of nerves of steel does he have that he’s looking out for lightning, the Secret Room, and still has time to just trace out the sigils like that?

  “Yeah,” Jacob says with a grave tone. “I see you, King Baalrek.”

  Nimirea looks at where Jacob’s looking with a frown.

  “Where—“

  Suddenly, the room lights up.

  The darkness folds back like a curtain and the red light pools under a tall figure that stands on the stone. Nimirea stiffens while the air thickens. Jacob raises his head as the figure’s outline gains shape.

  A crowned skull glows first. Then a long coat of torn shadows fills in behind it.

  The apparition lifts one hand and the red light bends toward it as if dragged by chains.

  Then the voice arrives. It is low. It is steady. It does not match the corpse-like face.

  “Jacob Cloud,” he says, “you took too long.”

  Jacob swallows.

  “King Baalrek,” he says. “You don’t look like an Infernal. You look like an Undead.”

  King Baalrek raises a skeletal hand and the expressionless skull shakes its head. Two red lights dim slightly at the comment.

  “You are talking to the Mad King, Jacob Cloud. You shall address me as such.”

  “I shall not,” Jacob says. “You’re still bound by rules, aren’t you? If we’re alive, that must be the reason. If not, why not just kill me? Isn’t madness supposed to be uncontrolled and wild?”

  Nimirea feels like punching Jacob right in the face.

  Why would you ever want to offend a creature called the Mad King?!

  The shadows around the crowned skull thicken and stretch when Jacob finishes speaking.

  Nimirea watches as the folds of darkness rise from the floor and cling to the bones, and she feels her knees weaken because the figure grows taller every time Jacob opens his mouth.

  “How foolish,” King Baalrek says.

  “Why? Why foolish? Am I wrong? Or is this just a possession by the Mad God? What does it even mean that you’re the Mad King now?”

  “Madness does not mean rashness. Madness means detaching from the search of meaning that drives everyone else mad.”

  “King Baalrek,” Jacob says. “If you’re not searching for anything. How about a bet? You pick the conditions.”

  The room answers before Baalrek does. The red light coils toward him until it looks like the entire chamber bends inward. The skeletal frame gains mass that should not exist, and the coat of torn shadows swells until it drags against the floor like a black tide.

  The two red lights in the skull widen.

  A sound bursts out of the figure and shakes the room.

  It’s laughter.

  It comes in sharp blasts that hit the walls and tear cracks into the dark stone.

  Nimirea covers her ears and still hears it inside her bones.

  “Do you think you understand madness, Cloud?” the Mad King roars. “Do you wish to challenge me, now?!”

  King Baalrek’s skeletal figure grows even taller and scarier.

  “DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHO YOU’RE TALKING TO?!”

  His voice shifts between octaves as if several mouths speak through the same jaw.

  Jacob keeps his eyes locked upward because the figure now towers over him so much that Jacob must tilt his head to see the crown.

  The crowned skull lowers toward him until the red lights are inches from his face, and Nimirea steps back because the floor is sinking under the Mad King’s weight.

  “I have only a speck of memory of who you are—-a little fragment when I reclaimed the other part of me. But it told me very little, almost as if it believed that it could hide you from me! HAHAHA!”

  The Mad King’s laughter explodes again.

  The shadows rise.

  The skull widens.

  “Sure, I shall accept the bet. You talk to my real form for the first time and this is what you say?! How pitiful the old me must have been when teaching you!”

  Nimirea, who’s not seen Jacob lose his calm in front of this ancient monster so far, sees the young man tremble.

  “You tremble in fear, now? Good. You’re starting to realize your situation.”

  Nimirea stares at Jacob because she cannot believe the stupidity unfolding in front of her.

  She cannot hold it anymore.

  “Jacob!” she shouts. “Have you lost your mind?!”

  Her voice breaks through the vibrating air and bounces against the stone.

  The Mad King tilts the massive skull toward her, and the two red lights narrow.

  But she does not stop.

  “Stop talking to him like that!” she screams. “You are not making a bet! Do you even understand the situation we’re in?!” Then, she turns toward the Mad King. “Your Majesty, how can we gain safe passage in order to exit the Dungeon? I know that a being of old would accept an exchange of old.”

  “If you had been talking to someone else, Child of Twilight, perhaps you would have gotten an answer. But I bend to no law. I am the law of this land. And when I recover my body, I shall make everyone pay.”

  Nimirea recoils—she hadn’t expected such a reply at all.

  Every being lives under Karma because every being carries the weight of old exchanges. Karma ties actions to answers, and it binds promises to their prices. It governs the gains of kings and the losses of beggars, and it forces the world to balance every debt that was created in the past.

  Exchanges of old are done under the weight of souls—these are exchanges that can literally tear your soul apart. And one does not demand one with a light heart because the moment it’s invoked, it already exacts a price.

  Yet, it appears that the Mad King is not affected in the least. And now, Nimirea is really worried.

  But if one person isn’t worried, that’s clearly Jacob, who just looks straight ahead at the creature and says, “your choice of bet, King Baalrek. But it’s my choice for the prize.”

  “You can choose whatever you want, Jacob Cloud. I shall, however, ask for a very simple thing,” the now-giant skeleton opens its mouth, almost swallowing Jacob.

  “YOUR SOUL.”