When they stepped into the first large room of the dungeon, the natural, damp stone texture of the cave gave way to a terrifying architecture. The walls were covered with brass and gold-plated panels that turned slowly, like massive gears. In the very center of the room, atop a marble pedestal, stood a golden scale shining as cold and brilliant as moonlight.

  The moment they entered, the door behind them closed and locked with a noise like a foundry hatch. From the ceiling of the room, pure gold dust began to pour—flowing like fine sand, but much heavier. The metallic rustle was the only sound in the room.

  "Beautiful," Macan said, looking at the threads of gold dust filtering down from above. "But I think it’s going to pour enough to bury us."

  On one tray of the scale sat a petrified loaf of bread; on the other, an empty bowl. On the gold panels on the room's walls, these words appeared in glowing runes:

  Aslan tried to cut through the rising gold dust with his sword, but the metallic dust wrapped around the blade as if it were alive, making every move heavy. Meanwhile, Marry’s voice trembled as she tried to decipher the mana flow around the scale: "This isn't an illusion, Eren! These golds are real mana condensations. If we don't balance the scale, the room will fill with gold up to our throats!"

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  Eren advanced with difficulty through the gold dust, which reached his knees and pulled like a swamp with every step. He looked at the trays of the scale, the flowing gold, and then at the ticking gears on the walls. This sound was familiar to him; the rational but soulless sound of those factories in the Dwarf Kingdom...

  "This isn't a trial," Eren said, taking a handful of gold dust and watching it pour through his fingers. "This is storytelling. No, it's a critique."

  "What do you mean, Master Eren?" Aslan shouted; the gold dust had now risen above his knees.

  "The killer is describing Pitrosg and his kind here," Eren said, the ghosts of ten years ago appearing in his eyes. "This room represents those who turn the river’s mana into gold and hoard it while the people break from hunger. The solution isn't in the scale, Aslan; the solution is in breaking the scale!"

  Eren reached for his mace, the gift given to him. However, first, a physical blow was needed; he struck the marble pedestal with all his might. The pedestal cracked, but the flow of gold continued with increasing speed.

  "Marry!" Eren shouted. "Don't focus on the gold dust, focus on the gears on the walls! Those gears are stealing the river’s energy. If you freeze them, the system will collapse!"

  Marry understood what Eren meant. If this dungeon was a message from the killer, the hand that built the system had also encrypted how to break it there. When Marry placed her hands on the cold brass panels and reversed the mana, the gears stopped with a horrific screech. At that moment, the tons of gold dust suspended in the air suddenly turned into a bright light and evaporated.

  The room was left with nothing but the smell of heavy metal and a deafening silence.