I Died and Became a Noble's Heir

”You can drop the purification,” Jack stated, his tactical awareness recognizing the mana expenditure was unnecessary for his protection. ”The poison doesn’t affect me.”

Father Caelen maintained the golden sphere for several more seconds before carefully reducing the output, testing whether the poison would immediately harm Jack once the divine protection ceased.

When no visible effect manifested, the old priest let the purification field collapse completely, conserving his mana for whatever challenges might require it on later floors.

”Well,” Father Caelen observed, producing his flask for a measured sip that revealed he found the situation mildly amusing despite its inherent danger. ”That makes this floor significantly less threatening than intended. Shall we proceed quickly to the exit?”

Jack’s tactical mind considered the question, then reached into his soul space to summon the bound Disaster-class serpent. The massive creature materialized in the fog, its enhanced senses immediately tracking both warriors as it awaited commands through their Soul Link.

’Carry us to the exit,’ Jack projected mentally, his consciousness interfacing with the bound creature’s awareness. ’Move at full speed, we can navigate the poison without concern.’

The serpent lowered its massive head in a gesture of compliance, allowing both warriors to mount before it began moving through the toxic mist with speed that would cover a significant distance quickly.

The fog parted before its bulk, visibility terrible but irrelevant, as the creature’s supernatural senses navigated without relying on sight.

They traveled for ten minutes at a pace that should have brought them to the floor’s far side based on typical dungeon dimensions.

But when the fog cleared slightly, Jack recognized their surroundings with immediate certainty.

They were back at the entrance archway from the fifth floor. The exact position where they’d started, despite having moved in a straight line for an extended period at considerable speed.

”The floor loops,” Father Caelen observed, recognition of a mechanism he’d encountered in other dungeons.

”Movement at speed returns us to the origin point. It’s a spatial distortion designed to trap anyone trying to rush through the poison. They run themselves in circles until the toxin kills them.”

Jack dismissed the bound serpent back to his soul space, his tactical mind processing the implication.

Normal warriors would panic in a lethal atmosphere.

They would try to escape quickly, doom themselves to an infinite loop until poison or exhaustion claimed them.

But he was immune to the toxin, which meant he had time to figure out the actual progression mechanic.

”We walk,” he stated with certainty, beginning to move through the fog at a casual pace that felt wrong when surrounded by lethal contamination.

”Slowly, calmly, like the poison isn’t actively trying to kill us. The floor tests composure under pressure, rewards those who can maintain calm despite environmental threat.”

Father Caelen fell into step beside him, the old priest’s decades of dungeon experience allowing him to recognize the logic, even though it contradicted every survival instinct screaming to flee the deadly atmosphere.

”A psychological trap. Punishes the natural response to danger, rewards behavior that appears suicidal in context. Clever design for a floor specifically built around poison.”

They walked in silence for several minutes,

Jack’s enhanced perception tracked their progress through the thick fog.

This time, the environment didn’t loop; they were covering a great distance, moving deeper into the floor rather than being spatially redirected to the starting position.

”This dungeon is strange,” Jack said quietly, his mind turning toward questions that had been accumulating since the first floor’s inverted healing/damage mechanics.