Talc had waited outside of the challenge room, stewing in his anger. The two of them would die, or they would exit, barely alive, and he would finish them off. Either way, he could take out his frustration on their corpses.There was something wrong with the boy.Not a ghost of the dungeon, surely. Too corporeal. And he bled like a real man.When the door to the challenge room had opened, a sadistic grin had sprouted across his face, and he shot inside without waiting. Only to find the room cold and empty.It was completely unlike the rest of the dungeon, a room of smooth floors and solid, consistent light, clean and fresh and undefiled by years of rain dragged filth and goblin infestation.There was a door open on the other side of the room, too. Talc stalked toward it cautiously. This door was closed. But ever so slowly, a red, ephemera light began to spread across it. Inch by inch, the door crawled open. Talc hesitated.This dungeon was dangerous. Far more dangerous than anything else the Bleeding Crown had ever raided before. But so was the boy. And Poppy — she had gained half a dozen levels in the time since he had last seen her.He knew how. He wasn’t stupid. She had some way to survive the scenarios. The empty room he was in was proof.But the glowing red light didn’t stop at opening the door. It traced a path along the floor, leading him forward. Was the dungeon guiding him? Is this what it had done for Poppy?Talc frowned. He didn’t trust it. He called on [True Stealth,] stalking wearily down the hall. The line directed him to a door which swung open at his approach. He used his [Appraisal] skill, [Stalk.]It told him this challenge room was in progress. The smile returned to his face.“You want me to kill them, dungeon?” Talc asked. “I’ll do it with pleasure.”There was something wrong with that boy who looked like the dungeon’s ghosts. He was fast. Far faster than a mere (...)