"The Holy Priest has said the last word on this matter, Ingraham. We'll hold the wall and fight to the death if need be."

A commanding voice shook Red from his reverie. In front of him, the boy saw a scene he was familiar with. A desolate pale sea of sand, extending far beyond what his eyes could see. A golden sky lit up by rays of light that had no point of origin. A world that defied description and logic. A place he recognized.

'I'm here again.'

This time, however, Red didn't stand on the wall. Looking down after some hesitation, the boy felt another wave of nausea hit his mind. There was nothing below his feet. The boy simply stood on air. There was no sign of the wall even after he looked in both directions, only the endless white desert. Red felt his throat tighten, but even after many seconds had passed he found that he still stood in the air.

"Ingraham, do you understand your orders?"

The same voice that awakened him spoke again. Looking over, the boy saw the source of the sound. A middle-aged man sporting a fine beard and long black hair looked at Red with a solemn expression. His frame was very burly and exuded an immense pressure that the youth couldn't shake off. The warrior wore intricately decorated plate armor, which the boy also recognized from his previous dreams. Upon closer look, though, Red noticed something. What he thought were simple accessories on his protective gear instead brimmed with a power that seemed to almost flow out of the armor.

A powerful figure - this was what Red's instincts told him. More powerful than he could even accurately measure, the boy thought. And this individual was staring directly at him. His mind thought back to how all of these dreams ended. Red always died. Looking around himself, there was no mysterious entity, no battle, nothing else that could threaten him.

Only him and this individual.

"You're gonna kill me." Red stated in a voice he didn't recognize as his own.

The man's face contorted in shock. His eyes narrowed and killing intent started to emit from his body. This formless aura pressed down onto Red and the youth felt like it was hard to even move his head at that moment.

"How did you find out?" The warrior asked.

It took Red a few seconds to register what had happened. He had spoken and the man in front of him had heard his words. What should have been a normal matter instead shocked the boy to no end. His space for actions in these dreams had always been very limited, and at most he would move around a bit before being unceremoniously killed.

Most of his dreams were in the middle of catastrophic scenarios where conversations were not commonplace. Red thought the independence he had to look around and act in these scenarios was simply an illusion, inconsequential to the final result of the dream. Nothing would change no matter how hard he tried to move or escape.

The boy concluded that such a lack of development also applied to talking to other individuals, however, this was clearly not the case. Here he was communicating with someone in what should have been impossible in a dream.

Red even forgot for a moment that the man still wanted to kill him. The boy had so much he wanted to know. Like where he was, what was happening in here, how could they be simply standing on air. Soon, though, these curiosities settled down and Red recovered a bit of the calm that had kept him alive all this time.

Would this man believe Red if he told him that he wasn't whoever he wanted to kill? Unlikely, and even if he did would that still keep the youth alive? Again, that was questionable. It depended on how much this warrior wanted to kill him, which at the moment looked like a lot. Perhaps escaping death was impossible, but this wasn't his first dream and he doubted it would be the last.

The most important thing right now rather than avoiding death was to obtain information. The man was unlikely to answer his most pressing and mundane questions, though, seeing as he wanted to kill him. So Red had no choice but to play along.

"I asked you a question!" The warrior roared, impatiently. "How did you find out?"

"How do you think?" The boy asked, once more in a voice completely unfamiliar to him.

"Hmph!" The man's eyes narrowed. "So more rats are sneaking around in the Temple, huh? We dug you out and we'll dig out the remaining ones no matter how well they think they can hide!"

'Rats? I'm a spy?'

"Even if you know, what was your plan in still coming along?" The warrior asked, looking around. "There is no one nearby to help you, I made sure of it... So, did you really think you would be able to stop me from killing you by your lonesome?"

The pressure Red was feeling increased all of a sudden. Every inch of his body felt weighted down and he struggled to even let a word out.

"Very arrogant on your part, traitor." The man continued. "I carved my name into that totem before you were even born. I could have killed you back then with one hand. But now?..."

A golden mist of energy started to cover the warrior.

"I don't even need to move to do it..."

The mist of energy started to slowly expand until it reached Red's body.

"Wai-"

It was the last thing the youth said before darkness swallowed him once more.

...

'How unreasonable...'

This was the first thing Red thought as he woke up. Right after, a massive headache hit him. Then another terrible pain in the leg. It took the boy a few seconds for his vision to adapt again.

Looking over to the side, he saw Gruff's face wide-eyed and motionless. Even in death, the man's expression seemed to be twisted, staring at Red in hatred. Slowly memories about what had happened right before he passed out started to flood over him.

'My leg...'

Reaching down to his left leg, Red's hands were soaked in blood. Looking over, the boy saw a small puddle had formed beneath his thigh wound. He didn't know how long he had slept here. Thankfully it didn't seem like Gruff managed to hit an artery, or else Red would have already bled out in his sleep.

It didn't mean the wound was any less painful or serious, much more so down here in these caves. The boy needed to stop the bleeding immediately, or else he would still die. Red attempted to get up, only to immediately tumble down again. He could hardly put weight into his left leg, and his whole body was still aching from his earlier battles. Whatever rest the youth had caught while he was unconscious had not helped much in his recovery.

Crawling over, Red opened his sack and searched for the medicine inside. Finally, the boy managed to get both the medicinal paste and the bandages out. Sitting up with his back against a wall, Red pulled up his trousers to check on the wound. The attack had hit the area above his knee and with Gruff twisting the knife, the cut had lengthened pretty badly.

Smearing his hand with the paste, Red carefully applied it over the wound. A stinging pain spread over his thigh, much more intense than when he had used the medicine over his ribs. However, the boy saw the effects of the substance very quickly. About half a minute later, the bleeding had lessened substantially as the paste seemed glued onto the open wound.

Red then used the bandage to cover the wound and tied a tight knot to keep some pressure on the cut. This was a procedure he had learned with Viran. Apparently, on the surface, you were supposed to suture wounds like this closed so they could heal faster. The slaves, however, didn't have any line or needle to do the job. Viran for his part said the paste would be just as efficient in closing the injury.

The boy had seen the effectiveness of the medicine, so he didn't doubt it would work. The only problem, however, was how long it would take for the cut to completely heal and if he would have enough paste to last until then. Right now, Red needed to move away from this place as fast as he could. Monsters were bound to be attracted by the smell of blood and by then the youth didn't want to be caught with a bad leg in a chase.

As the youth tried to get up again, weakness shot up his left leg and he ended up falling onto the ground again. With a grunt of pain, Red repeated his efforts, only to fail once more. Finally, on the third try and after a minute of catching his breath, the boy managed to get up with the support of a rock pillar.

Having learned his lesson, though, Red didn't immediately try to walk again. Catching his breath, he looked down at his leg. Most of all, the youth was afraid that all this effort would cause the wound to worsen and for it to bleed once again. Still, considering his situation, what option did he have?

Would Red risk bleeding out from walking or being eaten by giant insects from staying put? Pushing his head back at the wall, the boy closed his eyes and sighed.

'I'm going to die, aren't I?'

It was the obvious conclusion Red arrived at. It was a fact that was mostly left unsaid when Viran left him with his death wishes. This cave was full of monsters and horrible beings that Red didn't have the slightest chance of killing on his own. As he heard from the slaves, the deeper one went the stronger and scarier the creatures became.

At that juncture, the boy thought back to the image of the insectoid. Would the lower levels of the cave have monsters as strong as it too? If Red found one of them he would have no other choice than to lay down and accept his death. His brilliant plan, in the beginning, was relying on his stealth to pass by unnoticed. That was his strongest weapon, but with a wounded leg, what else was he left with?

Even in his prime condition Red already didn't have much confidence in accomplishing this task, and now with his mobility compromised? It was a certain fact: if he went deeper into the cave, he would die. It was one thing to brave danger when you had skills you knew you could rely on, no matter how difficult the task would prove. It was another to do it when being completely deprived of every advantage you had.

Red felt dispirited. Would he need to try his chances up here while trying to recover, hiding while the monster ate the corpses of the slaves? Even if the boy managed to stay unnoticed, would he ever get another opportunity to escape this place again? When supplies ran thin and these insects made their nests around here would he still be able to do it? It was just another gamble, perhaps less dangerous than going deeper into the mines, but it still wouldn't bring him closer to his objective.

Red wanted to escape. He wanted to leave this cursed place behind. He wanted to explore the world he had heard so much about. To see the Sun, the stars. The moon. It was all the boy ever desired and dreamed about while he fought to survive down here. Now, this objective of his seemed as far away as ever.

It was then that he felt it, that sensation. His friend, whom Red hadn't visited in more than a month, was calling to him. Hungry.

The youth looked at the tunnel leading further down to the entrance to its lair. Then, his gaze went back to the corpse of the giant man in front of him.

Red sighed once more.

If he was going to take a gamble, he would always choose the one that gave him the most chances of escaping.

No matter the risk.