Cavern air grew still after the dragon's last words. The bones of its minions lay quiet again, scattered in pale heaps. The only sound left was the faint hiss of the Black Fire twisting in Eron's palm.
The soul fire in the Skeleton Dragon's eye sockets glowed faintly, its gaze steady and patient, as though time itself no longer mattered to it.
Eron broke the silence first. The stillness pressed against his ears, heavier than before. His arm ached from holding the spell, the weight of the Black Flame dragging on his focus. He exhaled slowly, feeling the exhaustion creep in as the last traces of tension clung to the air.
"If you want to talk, then answer me this. How do I get out of here?"
The dragon's skull tilted, joints creaking. Its voice rumbled deep, ancient, and heavy.
"Out? You seek escape from these depths? I thought you were like those adventurers who chase glory. This is new."
"That's right." Eron's jaw was set, his arm steady though tension still roared inside him. "I didn't come here to rot under a pile of bones. I need to reach the surface again."
The dragon's sockets narrowed and its claws flexed slowly against the cavern floor, scraping stone.
"There is only one path, a way built into this dungeon long before I was bound to it. A teleport circle, buried in the heart of Floor Sixty."
Eron frowned. Sixty. He'd only fallen from the tenth, yet even the strongest adventurers above had never passed the thirty-eighth.
"That's far down. Getting to Floor Sixty's not going to be easy." He let out a tired sigh.
The dragon's voice deepened, echoing across the chamber.
"Do not misunderstand, a circle does not grant freedom easily, it is sealed and guarded and you must earn the right of passage or make a deal with the one who guards that floor."
"Another boss," Eron said flatly.
"Not merely a boss, a ruler." The dragon corrected. "If you fight and win, the seal will break, if you negotiate and succeed, it may open more gently, but either way, you will face a power greater than mine."
Eron let the Black Fire roll once in his palm before dismissing it with a flick. The cavern brightened slightly as his Hovering Blaze steadied beside him.
His chest rose and fell slowly. "Fine, then I'll head there, whatever it takes."
The dragon lowered its skull and the floor trembled, a soul fire in its sockets burning sharp.
"Then hear my condition, human. If you wish to pass, you will not use the curse fire inside this dungeon."
Eron blinked, thrown off by the sudden demand. "What?"
"That flame does not simply burn flesh, it consumed this place once, and already cracks spread where you summoned it, the walls weaken and the mana is in disarray. If you unleash it freely, the balance of this dungeon will collapse, floors will merge together, and all who live here, myself, the beasts, even you, will be destroyed."
Eron glanced at the floor, where faint purple cracks glowed where the Black Fire had once burned, pulsing through the stone like veins of corruption. Even the air felt wrong.
"And if I don't agree?"
The dragon's sockets narrowed.
"Then I will strike you here and now, even if it means my bones are scattered to dust. Better that than let the cursed fire consume these halls."
Silence pressed down between them.
Finally, Eron exhaled through his teeth.
"Fine, I promise. No Black Fire unless I have absolutely no other choice."
The soul fire in its sockets brightened slightly, not relief but agreement.
"Swear it, swear on your own flame."
Eron's pulse slowed as he raised his hand again, summoning a steady ember, a simple, warm Fireball, and let it rest on his palm.
"I swear. I will not use the Black Fire inside the dungeon." He let out a quiet sigh. "Are you happy now?"
The ember flickered, then burned into his skin. A faint black tattoo etched around his palm, the mark spreading slightly toward his wrist before smoking and fading to ash-gray. It didn't hurt at first, then the sting hit.
"Damn, that hurts," he hissed, clutching his hand as the heat pulsed beneath his skin. "Shit, I thought this was only a deal with words."
The fire in the dragon's sockets dimmed and its wings folded inward, the pressure in the chamber easing.
"Then I shall allow you to pass through my floor. The path downward lies beyond this chamber, follow it and you will descend. Survive the challenges waiting for you, and perhaps you may reach the sixtieth floor."
Eron blinked, still feeling the faint burn on his palm. "Damnit, you never told me something like this was going to happen when I swore."
"That is your choice, human. Swearing inside a dungeon is a ritual, do not worry, its effects remain only while you are within its depths, once you return to the surface, it will fade."
Eron adjusted the ruined strap of his backpack, eyes never leaving the skeletal giant. "Damn you," he muttered under his breath. "I wish I could burn this fucker alive."
Eron took a slow breath, forcing his pulse to steady. "One more thing."
The skeletal head tilted slightly.
"If that floor's ruler is as strong as you say, do you think it'll listen? To negotiation, I mean."
The dragon's hollow jaws shifted, grinding faintly.
"It will depend not on mercy but on your words. Some hunger for blood, others for truth, if you can tell which it craves, you may walk out alive."
Eron nodded slowly, chest heavy but eyes sharp.
"Then I'll negotiate. And when talk runs out, I'll let fire speak."
Soul fire in the Skeleton Dragon's sockets flared once more, then dimmed completely.
"So be it human, walk the path of ash. Floor Sixty awaits you."
The bones around them fell silent again, the cavern trembling faintly as the dragon's presence faded into darkness.
Only Eron remained, his hovering flame, and the long descent below.
For the first time since his fall, he had a direction, a destination, and an oath that weighed on him.
The gray tattoo on his palm marked the promise he'd made to something ancient and powerful. He would carry it until he escaped the dungeon.
Behind him, the Skeleton Dragon lowered its skull and the fire in its eyes faded until only darkness was left. Bones shifted as the huge body settled on the ground, quiet again like it had returned to slumber.
Eron looked back once, then turned toward the tunnel ahead and kept walking.