CHAPTER 58 — SPELLS UNDER PRESSURE

  (Riveria, Lefiya, Aiz, Alise)

  The corridor was collapsing.

  Not all at once.

  Not violently.

  Systematically.

  Stone cracked in measured intervals, ceiling plates lowering like a jaw closing millimeter by millimeter. Each tremor sent dust raining down onto the frontline fighters locked in brutal melee ahead.

  Gareth’s roar echoed.

  “THEY’RE COMING FROM THE SIDES—!!”

  A monster slammed into his shield hard enough to drive him back a step. Another burst from a wall fissure, its body half-formed from corrupted Dungeon matter.

  Aiz stood behind the frontline, sword lowered, eyes sharp.

  “This isn’t a charge,” she said flatly. “It’s a hold.”

  Alise grinned, flames flickering along her fingers.

  “Good. I hate running blind.”

  Riveria raised her staff.

  Her expression was calm.

  Too calm.

  “Lefiya,” she said. “Now you understand why I told you to stop thinking of magic as distance.”

  Lefiya swallowed.

  “I—I think so…”

  The first wave hit.

  ---

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  ???? Riveria Takes Control

  Riveria slammed her staff into the ground.

  The air snapped.

  “Cynnar Frost.”

  Magic circles layered instantly, one over another, precise and ruthless. The temperature dropped so fast breath crystallized mid-exhale.

  The advancing monsters slowed—then locked, ice crawling over limbs, joints freezing solid.

  “Frontline,” Riveria commanded, voice carrying effortlessly,

  “Step back. Let them stack.”

  Gareth didn’t question it. He hauled his shield free and fell back with the others, monsters piling into the frozen bottleneck.

  Riveria lifted her staff again.

  Wind screamed through the corridor, compressed and directional, smashing the frozen monsters together like glass statues hurled into a wall.

  They shattered.

  Not exploded.

  Erased.

  Lefiya stared.

  “That… that wasn’t wide-cast…”

  Riveria didn’t look at her.

  “No. Wide magic wastes power.

  This Dungeon punishes waste.”

  Alise Enters the Field

  A tremor ran through the floor.

  New sigils flared.

  Alise’s smile vanished.

  “Trap-spawn. Magic-fed.”

  She stepped forward before Aiz could move.

  “Cover me.”

  Aiz nodded instantly.

  Wind wrapped around Alise’s body—not pushing, not lifting.

  Sharpening.

  Alise snapped her fingers.

  “Scorch Spiral.”

  Fire didn’t explode.

  It coiled, tight and controlled, riding Aiz’s wind like a blade wrapped in flame. The spell drilled into a summoning circle mid-formation and burned it out from the inside.

  The Dungeon screamed.

  Lefiya gasped.

  “You didn’t just destroy the spell—you collapsed the rune logic!”

  Alise smirked.

  “I hate when people write sloppy magic.”

  ---

  ??? Aiz — Precision Over Power

  A second wave surged—faster, thinner, built for speed.

  Aiz stepped forward.

  She didn’t shout.

  She didn’t charge.

  She inhaled.

  “Ariel.”

  But not fully.

  Just enough.

  Wind condensed into visible arcs that sliced through the corridor at waist height, severing limbs, destabilizing cores, and forcing the monsters to stagger.

  Aiz moved through the gaps.

  One strike.

  One kill.

  No wasted motion.

  Alise watched closely.

  “…You’re shaping it differently,” she said.

  Aiz nodded.

  “Your fire reacts better when my wind doesn’t tear.”

  A pause.

  “Less violence. More intent.”

  Alise laughed softly.

  “Yeah. That tracks.”

  ? Lefiya’s Moment

  A scream echoed from the frontline.

  A spell backlash.

  A mage went down.

  Lefiya froze.

  Riveria turned sharply.

  “Lefiya.”

  Her voice was not gentle.

  It was steady.

  “This is why you’re here.”

  Lefiya’s hands trembled.

  Then stilled.

  She raised her staff.

  “Elf Ring.”

  Multiple magic circles bloomed—not one element, but layered casting, each spell feeding the next. Fire to wind. Wind to frost. Frost to lightning.

  The corridor lit up.

  Her voice didn’t crack.

  The spell detonated down the passage, ripping through enemies, collapsing sigils, stabilizing the collapsing ceiling with shock pressure alone.

  Silence followed.

  Lefiya panted.

  Riveria smiled.

  Just a little.

  “Good,” she said. “You didn’t hesitate.”

  Lefiya’s eyes shone.

  “I didn’t want to be protected anymore.”

  ---

  ?? Aftermath

  The frontline regrouped.

  Wounded, but alive.

  Gareth wiped blood from his beard.

  “Hells, Riveria… remind me never to stand in front of you.”

  Riveria inclined her head.

  “Stand behind me. That’s what mages are for.”

  Alise looked at Aiz.

  “…Next time,”

  Aiz nodded.

  “Yes. But not here.”

  The Dungeon rumbled again—deeper this time.

  Riveria’s expression darkened.

  “This was not the main pressure p

  oint,” she said. “Something else is bleeding the structure.”

  Aiz tightened her grip on her sword.

  “…Ryuu.”

  Alise’s flames flared.

  “Then let’s move before the Dungeon decides who it wants dead.”

  They advanced.

  Magic still humming.