Shadows Kissed by Scarlet

Chapter 17: Shadows Kissed by Scarlet

The deeper we went, the less it felt like a dungeon and more like a old Soviet tunnel lights half‑encased in frost.

Our footsteps echoed.

“I still think this is a bad idea,” I said.

They ignored me.

We walked in single file.

Yeonhwa in front, shadows feeling ahead like blind fingers. Me in the middle. Cha Eun‑ha at my back, flame kept small and tight in her palm. Footsteps echoed, a little too loud in the tunnel.

They weren’t arguing.

That was the first thing that bothered me.

No sharp remarks. No “rat” and “bitch” thrown back and forth. Just quiet.

“Step up,” Yeonhwa said softly. “There’s a crack.”

Her hand floated back without looking, brushing my arm to guide me over a gap in the floor. I followed her lead, boots landing on the solid patch of concrete she’d picked out.

Behind me, Eun‑ha’s heat wrapped closer when my foot slipped a little on the frost.

“If it looks unstable, don’t test it,” she said. “Call it out.”

“I am,” I said.

They were careful with me.

Too careful.

If you stripped away the dungeon stench and the half‑rotten posters clinging to the walls, it would look like any corridor.

If you ignored the way Yeonhwa’s shadows crawled a little too high around the base of every third pillar.

If you ignored the faint red smears Eun‑ha’s fingers left when they passed over old warning signs bolted into the concrete.

“You two are awfully quiet,” I said finally.

They both answered at once.

“Focus,” Eun‑ha said.

“We’re underground,” Yeonhwa murmured. “Noise carries.”

They didn’t look at each other.

The further we went, the heavier the mana felt. It pressed against my skin, slow and suffocating.

I forced my shoulders to unclench.

“Hold,” I said. “Stop a second.”

Yeonhwa’s steps halted. Shadows froze mid‑curl at the edge of her boots. Eun‑ha’s light dimmed behind me.

“What is it?” she asked.

I looked ahead.

The tunnel opened slightly before narrowing again.

On the left, a thick concrete pillar had spiderweb cracks at its base, frost melted into dark streaks where something hot had passed recently.

On the right, three fist‑sized crystals were embedded in the wall. Their light was wrong. The mana inside them quivered, as if overfed.

The air itself tasted electric.

“This is too dense,” I said quietly. “We’re not near a surface access. This feels like closer to a core.”

“So?” Eun‑ha said.

“So it shouldn’t feel like this here,” I replied. “Either the dungeon changed, or something is pooling mana down there. We should slow down. Check routes. Don’t punch straight through.”

Yeonhwa glanced back over her shoulder.

“Mutated, maybe,” she said. “That would make sense, considering how long this place has been rotting.”

Like she was commenting on the weather.

“Even more reason to finish this quickly,” Eun‑ha added. “Before it grows further.”

They weren’t denying what I said.

They were just too arrogant to care.

I swallowed down the curse that wanted out.

“Fine,” I said. “Then at least fix your spacing.”

Both of them stiffened a little.

“Spacing?” Yeonhwa echoed.

“You’re too close,” I said. “Lines like this are how people die in tunnels. If something comes from the front and the rear, we’ll stack on each other’s blades.”

“We won’t,” Eun‑ha said.

“You already almost did, out there,” I said. “You’re both strong, but you’re not seeing the field. You’re seeing each other.”

Their silence answered that for me.

“I’m not asking for much,” I went on. “Just take proper position. And be a little more careful.”

Yeonhwa’s shadows shifted, restless.

“…Tell us, then,” she said. “Where do you want us?”

“Front wider,” I said. “You,” I nodded at her back, “take proper point. Not walking on the same line as me. Your shadows control the lane. Don’t creep them too far up the walls. Keep senses on the floor.”

Her chin dipped once.

“And you,” I said, turning as much as my shoulder allowed to look back at Eun‑ha, “watch rear and above. Your fire covers anything dropping from the ceiling or trying to flank. You don’t need to tag every surface we pass. Conserve.”

That made her blink.

She glanced at her hand, faint ember lingering on the tip of her finger, then back at me.

“You think I’m wasting mana?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. “There’s no need to over-secure every meter for two S-ranks and one injured man. It’s unnecessary for now and if you exhaust your mana, what happens when it actually matters?”

Her jaw worked once.

Then she stepped back, widening the gap between us by three paces, her flame arching higher to light the ceiling instead of licking along the walls.

“I’m not slowing down,” she said.

“I’m not asking you to,” I replied. “I’m asking you to make sure we don’t kill ourselves before anything else gets the chance.”

The corner of Yeonhwa’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile.

“Listen to him,” she murmured. “He sounds like the old Si‑woo.”

I didn’t answer that.

We adjusted.

Yeonhwa moved properly to the front, her shadows flattening more against the ground, less like creeping hands and more like a scout lying low. With the distance, I could see clearer where it bunched a little thicker.

Every time we passed a pillar, the dark seemed to linger a fraction longer at its base. Not enough to be obvious. Enough that, if anything shook this corridor, those bases would not bear weight well.

On the walls to my right, the crystals hummed faintly. Whenever Eun‑ha’s firelight brushed over them, the hum sharpened.

They were both still working on the dungeon as if it offended them personally.

It should have made me feel safer, walking between two people who wanted to control every surface.

But it didn't.

The first wave of monster came like they always did.

You didn’t even see them at first. You heard them.

Metal dragged across concrete. A wet scrape, uneven steps, breath puffing out in dark clumps.

Then the frost ghouls pulled themselves into the light. Three of them at first, half‑frozen faces twisted, claws steamed black.

“Front,” I said quietly.

“Yeah, I see them,” Yeonhwa replied.

Her shadow slid out, thin along the floor, then rose with a sharp flick of her fingers. It caught the lead ghoul’s ankle, twisted, and dropped it onto invisible picks. It didn’t even have time to scream.

Eun‑ha’s fire cut past my right side, narrow and hot. It punched through the second one’s skull so cleanly the frost on its back didn’t melt until it had already fallen.

The third kept coming.

I stepped in, sword brought up more to keep space than to kill. The blade jarred in my hand when it met bone, but it shifted the ghoul’s weight just enough for a line of darkness to slide through its ribs from below.

They were strong.

Strong enough to brute force things. Good enough to believe they could correct for any error on the fly.

They used narrow blades of mana when wide arcs would have done. Their bodies tilted, not quite giving their full sides to the enemy. Not quite opening themselves.

Protecting their pride more than the line.

More shapes moved behind the first three.

Five. Seven. Too many knife‑ridges of teeth.

“More,” I said. “Tight.”

“We’ll handle them,” Eun‑ha said.

She meant it. She believed it.

That was what worried me.

They were strong enough to believe there was nothing in this place that could really hurt them, as long as they didn’t make a spectacular mistake.

It never occurred to people like that that a lot of small ones added up.

The ghouls charged in smaller clumps this time, like they’d learned from the bodies on the floor. Two from the front. Three from a side hatch that had been a maintenance door once, now half‑eaten by ice.

“Side,” I called. “Don’t tunnel.”

Yeonhwa’s shadows fanned wider along the ground, intersections thickening around ankles. Eun‑ha flared her flame higher, painting the ceiling with light before she cut it back down into something sharp.

From the outside, it probably looked clean. Controlled. Two S‑ranks carving their way through trash mobs, a support holding the middle and pointing.

Up close, you could feel the gaps.

When a group rushed from the right, where the closest cluster of crystals pulsed in that wrong, red‑tinged way, Eun‑ha didn’t open up with a wide cone. She sliced with a narrow line instead, careful not to hit the stones.

When a ghoul tried to slip low on the left, Yeonhwa’s shadows hesitated for a breath, then cut in a vertical line that nicked more of the pillar base than necessary.

It's like they were deliberately trying to make things worse.

Even when monsters were hunting their faces.

“Back off the pillars,” I said. “Use the floor. You don’t need that much… insurance.”

“Don’t tell me how to use my shadows,” Yeonhwa replied, calm on the surface.

“You told me to conserve,” Eun‑ha said. “You can’t complain when I stop burning entire walls.”

Stone underfoot vibrated.

Not from our movement.

From somewhere deeper.

A slow, distant grind that set my teeth on edge.

“…Did you feel that?” I asked.

They had to.

The floor shuddered a second time. Dust dropped from a seam overhead.