Unable to reach the Hydra through the icy mist surrounding it, Alynia turned instead toward Veil. She crouched beside him, her eyes on his arm, and adjusted the rough bandage he had clumsily wrapped around it.

  “I know you’re in pain, Little Wolf, but you have to get back on your feet. We’ll deal with your wounds afterward,” she said softly, her voice calm but firm.

  Veil lifted his head toward her, his eyes still wet with tears brought on by the pain.

  “I know, but… that thing doesn’t hold back when it bites,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

  Alynia rose again, her gaze shifting back to the Hydra. It hadn’t moved, but the third head released thin curls of vapor from its maw. Its crimson eyes slid from one head to the other, as if they were conversing silently.

  “I’ll keep it busy as long as I can, understood? Do whatever it takes to reach it while its attention is elsewhere,” she told him.

  She stepped forward toward the monster, her wounds still burning but temporarily dulled by the potion she had swallowed. The mist slowly thinned, allowing her to advance. Just as she took her stance, the third head lifted.

  The other two mirrored it, rising to their full height. Then, in an eerie dance, the second head coiled itself around the third. Once it had finished, the first followed suit, weaving into the gaps left by the second. The third head, now towering above the others, reigned over them, while the two entwined beneath formed a spiraling base.

  Alynia froze, her ears twitching as they caught a clear, steady beat. The third head opened its maw—yet no roar came.

  Instead, a continuous tone resonated.

  The creature began to sway, its movements dragging the other heads with it. The sound spread like music—peaceful, mesmerizing, impossible to resist.

  Scales along the Hydra’s body parted in rhythm, striking like drums to accompany the chant. With every beat, bursts of mist burst forth, layering the battlefield with a white veil that gleamed like snow sprinkled with scattered black stars. The haze spread outward endlessly.

  Alynia pressed on, determined to attack again while Veil regained his footing. But this mist didn’t dissipate like the others before. It closed in around her far too quickly. And though it carried no biting cold—just like the strange frost at the dungeon’s entrance—something was wrong.

  Her mind clouded, her vision blurred. The mingling of the chant and the mist dulled her senses, pulling her toward drowsiness.

  “What… is happening to me? What… the hell is this…?” she gasped.

  Her knees buckled, the strength in her legs evaporating. She collapsed to the ground, struggling to raise her eyes toward the Hydra. It continued its song and its dance, crimson gaze fixed on her like a sentence passed.

  She fought to stand again, but her body refused to obey.

  “You… hid that well…” she whispered hoarsely. “Little Wolf… move… get out… now…”

  But her voice was too faint for Veil to hear.

  His gaze never left her, though he didn’t understand what was happening. Gritting his teeth, he searched the ground for the dagger he had dropped. The thick mist swallowed everything, making it hard to see—but he knew one thing for certain.

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  He had to act.

  Veil crawled forward on his knees, fumbling across the ground in search of the dagger. The Hydra, meanwhile, continued its strange maneuver, its massive body swaying as it began a slow advance toward Alynia.

  “Alynia, don’t just stand there. MOVE!” he shouted.

  But the agony coursing through his body shielded him from the creature’s hypnotic haze—the drowsy effects of the chant had no hold on him. The third head shifted its gaze toward him, but upon seeing him crawling helplessly on the ground, it dismissed him and returned its attention to Alynia.

  Her ears drooped, her half-lidded eyes betraying her exhaustion. She was still fighting, struggling not to sink beneath the oppressive fatigue pressing in on her—but her mind drifted deeper into the haze with every heartbeat.

  The Hydra’s first and second heads finally uncoiled from the third, halting the bursts of vapor from its body. The third head, however, kept singing, its melody tightening its grip on Alynia, holding her just long enough for the first head to position itself—jaws wide, though still a little too far to reach.

  “Where are you…? You fell around here… damn it, damn it!” Veil muttered, frustration gnawing at him.

  Then, in his panic, an idea struck. The mist might blind him, but he remembered how one of the Hydra’s earlier breaths had blown it away.

  “I can’t overdo it… Focus. You can do this,” he whispered to himself.

  Gathering what little mana he could into his uninjured hand, he released it in a small gust. A faint current of air stirred, parting the fog just enough. And there—beneath the dim light—he caught the glint of steel.

  The blade.

  Veil lunged toward it, crawling clumsily, tripping more than once as his unstable body refused to keep balance. Finally, his fingers closed around the hilt.

  “Great… but what the hell am I supposed to do with this now?” he muttered, gripping the dagger tightly.

  There was no time to think. Too late to reach Alynia, not with her state and the Hydra’s looming heads closing in. In that moment, he did the only thing that made sense.

  “HEY! OVER HERE, YOU DAMN SNAKE! I’M YOUR OPPONENT!” he roared.

  The third head cut off its song instantly at the sound of Veil’s voice. Its crimson eyes snapped toward him as he forced himself upright. His left arm hung uselessly, while his right hand clenched the dagger so tightly his knuckles whitened unnaturally.

  “Alynia… get up. I… I need you,” he panted, breath ragged.

  Her thoughts were still muddled, but she heard him. With trembling effort, Alynia pushed herself upright. Every step was a struggle, her vision spinning around her—but somehow, she managed to stand.

  “I… I’m here. I can move,” she rasped.

  She staggered toward him. The Hydra, noticing her movement, lunged at once. Alynia stumbled mid-step and fell—an accident that spared her life, as the first head’s snapping jaws just missed her.

  Veil rushed to her side, hauling her up and pulling her away from danger as quickly as his battered body allowed.

  “I know you’re at your limit, but I need you to keep it distracted. I think I know how to strike it—but I’ll need time to focus. Can you manage that?” he asked, breathless as he held her steady.

  “I… I can. But are you sure? I’m almost spent, and that thing doesn’t look anywhere near tired,” she answered, her eyes narrowing at the Hydra.

  “I don’t have much left either. If this doesn’t work, I don’t see another way. We’ve been stuck in this fight too long already. If we drag it out, who knows what else it’ll come up with next,” he replied grimly.

  Alynia didn’t answer. She steadied her footing without Veil’s help, then moved toward the Hydra to draw its attention, casting one last glance back at him. The third head immediately fixed its gaze on her as she advanced. With a snap of its jaws, it signaled the other two heads to block her path.

  Veil bent his knees, shutting out the pain as he focused with everything he had left.

  Channel it… I have to pour everything into my right hand. Come on… he whispered to himself, eyes shut tight.

  A warmth coursed through his body. His right arm grew heavier, burdened by the energy gathering within it.

  Sharper… thinner, like a blade. Quick, cutting… You can do this, he urged himself in a low murmur.

  The dagger in his grip shimmered as mana enveloped it, the air itself spiraling into a single point. It stretched outward, forming a green extension—like a spear of wind—ending in a needle-fine tip.

  “Alynia, make it turn toward me. NOW!” he roared, face hard and unyielding.

  Though she didn’t understand his intent, Alynia obeyed. She broke into a sprint toward him, forcing the third head to swivel and follow her movement—bringing its gaze squarely onto Veil.

  “You’re strong, you damn serpent, but you can’t look two ways at once… You’ve lost,” he spat, trembling but resolute.

  As Alynia rushed past him, catching a glimpse of the determination etched into his face, Veil hurled himself forward—propelled by a burst of wind. The Hydra’s third head shrieked, the first slammed into the ground, and the body flared open, venting its mist in violent surges.

  But none of it was fast enough.

  The wind-forged blade pierced the Hydra where its pulsing blue light glowed brightest. Veil screamed as he drove the strike deep, his dagger slicing through scales as though they were nothing more than soft clay.

  All three heads reared back at once, their combined cries shaking the chamber, shredding at the ears of both Veil and Alynia. The monster convulsed violently, but Veil refused to let go. The blue glow inside its body flared brighter, thrumming in time with a heart beating faster… faster…

  And then—everything stopped.

  The sound died. The light faded. Until at last, it vanished entirely.

  The three heads collapsed lifelessly, their once-fiery eyes reduced to hollow, dark sockets. The chamber shuddered with the impact, debris crashing down as a cloud of dust swallowed the battlefield.

  The Hydra lay still. Dead.

  Alynia, tense and breathless, could no longer see. Panic surged as she searched desperately through the haze. Her heart hammered in her chest, fear clawing up her throat as tears pricked her eyes.

  “Little Wolf! Where are you?!” she screamed, voice breaking.

  Silence answered her.

  Her ears strained for even the faintest sound, eyes darting through the heavy fog—but there was nothing. Nothing but the suffocating stillness.

  The Hydra did not move. Their battle was over. But the dungeon’s grip remained, and Alynia had no way of knowing if this was truly the end. For now, only one thing mattered:

  She had to find Veil—and keep moving forward.