"Broken Dragonborn Ring."

  The item description appeared as I inspected the dull gold band I had taken from Runan's corpse—its surface cracked, bent, and scarred by age and battle.

  A broken ring once worn by a proud dragonborn. Its heat still faintly leaks through the cracks.

  That was it.

  No extended lore. No tragic backstory. Just a single, almost dismissive line of knowledge I already possessed—because I had fought that proud dragonborn myself.

  The rest of the panel was nothing but raw stats. Not bad. Not impressive either. Certainly not what I had expected from a boss trap, where the loot was usually better.

  A lot better.

  Still, I wasn't one to compin. Fifteen extra health points. Ten extra mana. For a moment, I even considered the ring unusable—until my eyes caught the line beneath the stats.

  A small one. Inconspicuous. So easy to miss I almost scrolled past it.

  Warms its user slightly.

  To an untrained eye, it was meaningless. Fvor text. A waste of space. The kind of line that made you wonder if the developers had simply run out of real ideas.

  But I knew better.

  The ring wouldn't stop the cold. Freezing effects would still apply. Frostbite would still creep in. But hypothermia only triggered under absolute cold—and since the ring warmed its wearer slightly, that threshold was never reached.

  Which meant one thing.

  Complete immunity to hypothermia.

  I let out a slow, steady breath.

  That single, throwaway line had just turned lethal terrain into an inconvenience.

  And that was huge.

  Because it meant I could no longer die to the cold.

  The best part was that it couldn't have come at a better time. I was still deep within the rough mountain terrain—terrain that had nearly killed me not long ago due to that exact debuff.

  Realizing that made me even more grateful for the ring now resting in my palm.

  A warm smile tugged at my lips as I turned back toward Runan, his lifeless body buried beneath the shattered chandelier. I inclined my head slightly.

  "I will honor this ring until the day I die."

  I promised him.

  It wasn't like he could hear me. He was just an NPC, after all.

  Still... for some reason, it felt like the right thing to do.

  Even if he was only an AI, I had spoken with him. Fought him. He had a personality—scripted or not. Sentient, at least to some extent. And I felt bad. I always did.

  That was why I could never understand pyers who sughtered entire vilges of regur NPCs, then logged off and went to bed with a smile and a clear conscience.

  Me? I wouldn't be able to close an eye.

  With everything settled, I turned away and continued on my journey. I still had a long road ahead of me.

  Coming to a halt before a massive wooden gate, I looked up at the runes carved deep into its surface. They shimmered in a desote blue, quietly acknowledging my presence. I studied them for a few moments, then took a deep breath.

  "Gates open."

  I didn't shout.

  It was a clear, firm command—like an officer issuing an order.

  With a loud, echoing creak, the doors responded. The massive sbs of wood slowly moved on their own, scraping across the marble floor. Splintered lines were carved into the pristine white stone, staining it as the gate opened wide.

  Beyond it y another hallway.

  This one was unlit.

  Complete, utter darkness swallowed everything beyond the threshold, paired with a biting, freezing cold.

  I hadn't even fully crossed the gate when the cold debuff hit me again—quickly escating into a freeze as I stepped into the ruined corridor. Shattered windows lined the walls, icy wind forcing its way inside, carrying flecks of snow with it. Not enough to bnket the floor—just enough to leave an uncomfortable, damp chill around my feet.

  I swallowed hard, my throat dry despite the fog curling from my breath.

  The halls were silent.

  No sound but the whistle of wind and the echo of my own footsteps.

  The dark, fog-choked corridor looked like something ripped straight out of a horror game. And going from an all-out hunt and brutal boss fight into this suffocating quiet made my skin crawl.

  My heart hammered in my chest—fast, relentless—like cranked-up techno beats.

  Every creak and unexpected sound made me flinch.

  For what felt like an eternity, I stayed on edge—heart racing, breath shallow—but in the end... nothing ever came.

  No beast lunged from the shadows.

  No gargoyle tried to suck out my soul.

  Honestly? I was a little disappointed.

  All that tension, all that buildup—completely wasted. And somehow, the fact that nothing happened left me more unsettled than if Runan's corpse had suddenly jumped me.

  "Oof... good lord, I'm finally through," I heaved, forcing my tense body to rex.

  "Man, I really hate horror."

  I muttered to myself, trying—and failing—to cope with how shaken I still felt.

  I'd never been a fan of horror. Jumpscares were bad enough, but what I truly hated were the slow ones—the kind where every step filled you with dread. No thrill. No fun. Just anxiety and trauma waiting to happen.

  The worst offender was "Inhumanized".

  Michael had practically forced us to py it. He loved that kind of stuff.

  Long story short, after finishing it, I didn't talk to him for a whole month.

  And I might—or might not—have had to get rid of a pair of pants.

  But I'm not going into that any further.

  The cold still grazed my back from the harrowing darkness behind me as I stared at the liminal stretch between myself and the old, rotten wooden door leading up to the North Tower.

  The ring around my finger pulsed, releasing steady waves of heat that grew stronger with every step I took toward it—reacting to the thick, oppressive mana the two entities above were emitting.

  The air was saturated with it.

  So dense, so potent, that even the deadly cold couldn't extinguish the fmes burning along the walls. No matter how violently the wind howled through the corridor, the fire only grew brighter, fiercer—fed by raw magic itself.

  A smile crept onto my face as I broke into a run across the red carpet, listening to the dull thuds of my footsteps echoing behind me.

  Yet the distance refused to close.

  The hallway stretched unnaturally, the mana distorting space itself. The door looked close—always close—yet never any nearer, no matter how fast I ran.

  A spatial disruption.

  Annoying, but familiar.

  I slowed my breathing, pushed through, and after what felt like far longer than it should have, my hand finally wrapped around the rusty metal knob. It vibrated softly beneath my fingers, resonating with the decaying wood around it.

  I turned it.

  Click.

  The door burst open, and a violent wave of compressed mana smmed into me, hurling me backward onto the soft red carpet. The world spun as I stared up at the opening beyond.

  A spiraling staircase revealed itself—ancient

  stone steps twisting upward, disappearing into the sky itself.

  I exhaled slowly.

  Whatever waited above... there was no turning back now.