Faust analyzed the scarce memory over and over again until he could piece it together.

  Once the whole of what happened came together, Faust knew of what he had to do. Or at least, had a theory of it.

  But... It was a hard decision.

  He associated the sound with what caused him to lose memory. It could be the mist too, but if that was the case, he had no way to deal with it. It was everywhere, even inside the house. Where he waited for a long long time and nothing happened.

  His memory remained intact here.

  So it was not the mist. Maybe the outside itself was somewhere dangerous?

  Again, could be, but no way to deal with that either. It was impossible to travel only by the inside of houses.

  And so, he gave the responsability of the memory lose to the only variable he could somewhat control: sound.

  There were enough things pointing it was the sound. Never he thought that he would be fighting sound, but well, he never imagined he would be insinde a dungeon either… and surving at it.

  But then, came the difficult decision. There was only one way of forcing the sound to be completely unable to affect him.

  On a book he read, one of the first ones at that, the content was mostly about medicine and herbs. Human anatomy was included, on it, there was a part that Faust remembered quite vividly.

  A sort of membrane, a thin and frail cloth-like structure inside the ears of humans that allowed people to hear, without it, no sounds would be capable of making their way in… In any case, according to the author, it could be destroyed with ease, even hot water could be enough to damage it.

  Depending on the severity of damage, it would recover naturally. If it was too much, then only potions and… well, herbs. That information had never been useful, but in this moment, it was.

  If he damaged it, he would only hope that mana would recover it and thankfully he would not lose his hearing forever. If he damaged it too much… better to be deaf than dead.

  A gamble that wouldn’t result in severe losses, it was ideal… but it would hurt. He was sure it would, especially with mana in the process.

  But pain was always necessary to reach progress.

  Without pondering further, before he could convince himself of not doing so, Faust picked a lose brick from the ground and began sculpiting it with Iron-Beak.

  Sometime passed, and eventually, the stone brick turned into a stake. It was thin, somewhat feeble too, it looked like it wouldn’t take much to break.

  Well, his ear would take even less.

  …Wish me luck, Beak.

  Beak shone with the necessary support as if saying “Go, my friend!” but didn’t want to shake his focus.

  Faust nodded in confirmation, as he positioned the stone stake inside his ear with one hand.

  Breathed in profoundly, and in the next, hit it with the other hand.

  The stake was guided inside instantly, it cut through some of the flesh and then hit something else, something frailer and then, he heard something pop and then, heard nothing.

  Stolen story; please report.

  An immense agony hit Faust. Blood seeped from his ear as he twisted his body. He promptly removed the stake and moved it aside, as he punched the ground multiple times until he fist began to bleed.

  “Shit…” he muttered, an ugly smile forming on his face. “This hurts more than I expected…”

  Before regret could reach him, he picked the stake again and did the same for his other ear. Crimson left the ear, as Faust removed the stake and threw it away.

  It was silent. Everything was silent.

  Faust tried to stand up but lost his equilibrium momentarily. He forced himself again and got on his feet as he reached for Beak and losing no time, jumped of the three store house, landing into a roll back up.

  He had to be fast, if his theory was right, he had to be fast enough before mana healed his ears. It was a place he couldn’t move mana well through and therefore, couldn't keep it out of it completely... such sensible places were too hard and the last time he did so, it was… not good.

  Faust rushed through the empty streets, goal being the clock tower.

  The distance was being quickly closer. Suddenly!

  He stopped and planting his feet on the ground, used the momentum to spin. Iron-Beak pointed at the window of a house.

  There was something inside. His instincts were shouting!

  Could he rush through and reach the clock tower without having to fight? That was a possibility.

  But what if the enemy encountered him later. It would be dangerous, wouldn’t it?

  Yes. Yes, it would. I must kill it now.

  Using the sweat clutched to his face, he brought his hair back while he kept staring in the house’s direction. This time, his mind didn’t grew hazy… it was the sound!

  Smiling in prideful solace, he stopped waiting.

  Clutching Iron-Beak, Faust rushed towards the house.

  He stopped.

  The sensation arose from somewhere else. Atop a building.

  When he glanced into that direction, it appeared somewhere else.

  It wouldn’t attack him while concious? What a treacherous bastard that enemy was.

  My mind is clear… but it shouldn’t know that. Though it does... interesting.

  Faust didn’t knew what he looked like during the blissful moments, but he was sure that whatever it was, could tell if his guard was up or not. Many beasts he encountered had the same capacity.

  This dungeon, it wasn’t built to fight, it was built to ambush, to overwhelm, to anihilate. Not a single one of his enemy was fought in a completely fair exchange between both sides, though the injustice often swayed.

  Dropping his own guard? How long had it been he did so?

  Purposedly at that. But that didn’t meant it was something he couldn’t do.

  Faust weakened his grip on Iron-Beak, stopping in place and letting his mouth go agape. At the same time, he stopped circulating mana actively through most of his body and relaxed his muscles.

  His vision grew unfocused as he stared nowhere. Anyone seeing this could tell: he was vulnerable.

  Apparently, the thing thought the same. As in the next moment, it’s presence disappeared from the previous position and shortly after, appeared right behind him.

  It can move through the mist? Or at least, something similar...

  He kept still, Beak slipping through his fingers and on the edge of being dropped to the ground.

  The silence was too loud. The mist too heavy. The quietness too perturbing.

  It was as if being purposedly being affected by something, by a thing that observed from behind. Faust could feel a terrifyingly cold breath on his shoulder, a presence that was just like a vicious predator. Running away and attacking when necessary.

  He could respect that. Winning was winning no matter what.

  Yet, despite all of the cimcurstances fighting against it, Faust heart remained unaffected, it was afraid… no, not exactly.

  When something moved behind him, mist visibly shifting into the form of something else, something sharp and dilascerating, Faust’s heart beat fast, strong, it was heavy. His face, however, formed a grin.

  In truth, he was excited.

  How far have I come? He wondered.

  In the next moment, the shifting mist travelled, Faust could feel the cold mist being guided towards his right shoulder.

  He didn’t move.

  Not yet.

  The mist got closer, and then, too close. It pierced through his shoulder, but not enough. It pierced further, completely traversing it.

  Instantly, Faust shifted his body and dropped Iron-Beak from his right hand to his left, spinning at the same time in a beautifully perfected motion.

  His slash hit something, whatever it was, Faust could see for a fraction of a moment. A dark liquid was now clutched to his friend.

  A black blood.

  The mist was unmade and the presence behind him disappeared. Except, it didn’t.

  Faust plan was not to kill in one strike. It was to injury it. To make it bleed. To track it. To hunt it.

  With an excited gleam in his gaze, he observed drops of that same dark liquid on the ground, spanning meters away and constantly disappearing further, constantly shifting through places in an erratic manner.

  It was scared.

  As he followed the trail with all of his agility, he had taken notice that his short-timed hunter had already turned hunted...