# Chapter 9: The Funnel of Blood and Iron
The heavy wooden door clicked shut behind the last student, locking the team into the cold dark of the historic stone stairwell.
Inside, the atmosphere changed instantly. The air was cool, damp, and smelled of century-old dust, wet concrete, and faint mold. The narrow service stairs twisted tightly downward into the university’s basement archives. The walls were made of rough, solid granite blocks. There was barely enough room for two people to stand side by side on a single step, and the ceiling was low and oppressive.
„Michael, why are we down here?“ one of the two fighters from the beginning asked. His voice was a low, shaky whisper that bounced off the cold stone walls. „This place feels like a trap. If those monsters find us in this small hole, we have no space to move. We simpy cannot run away.“
„We do not need to run away,“ Michael replied.
His face was completely still while every other student in the stairwell was trembling and sweating from fear. He adjusted his grip on the shaft of his weapon, ignoring the dull, throbbing pain in his freshly bandaged left upper arm.
Michael walked down a few steps and stopped exactly where the stairs made a sharp, ninety-degree turn.
„Look at this place,“ Michael said, pointing his iron tip at the wall. „Outside in the big hallway, the creatures have space. They can run around us, flank us, and use their speed. In here, the stone forces them to only one direction. They have to line up in order to attack us.“
Because the granite wall curved heavily at this exact spot, anything rushing down from the main door would be completely blind to Michael and his group until it walked right into their spears. The narrow width of the passage—barely a meter and a half—meant the monsters would have no space to jump left or right.
He turned his head slightly to look back at his team. The twelve students were huddled together on the upper steps, holding their spears with wide eyes.
„Now,“ Michael ordered bluntly, „I need you to make noise.“
The students stared at him as if he had lost his mind.
„What?“ a terrified girl gasped, her voice cracking. „Are you insane? If we scream, they will find us!“
„That is the entire point,“ Michael said, his voice cold and flat. „Hit your wooden spears against the stone walls. Stomp your boots on the steps. Scream if you have to. Make sure every single monster roaming that main hallway knows exactly which door we went through.“
The two older fighters exchanged a look of deep doubt. The plan sounded completely mad. But then they remembered the Audimax. They remembered looking at the six dead beasts and seeing Michael standing alone at the front lines, covered in blood but victorious. They trusted his raw capability.
Slowly, the veteran on the left lifted his weapon and slammed the wooden shaft against the granite wall. *Clack.*
The second fighter joined in, kicking his heavy boots against the stone stairs. *Thud. Thud.*
Seeing their leaders act, the other ten students joined the chaos. Their bottled-up panic finally exploded into loud, shaking screams and rhythmic banging. The noise inside the small stone shaft was deafening, amplified by the hard walls, echoing violently out through the gaps in the heavy wooden door frame.
It took less than thirty seconds for the environment to respond to the bait.
From the hallway outside, sounds of dozens of heavy claws scratching fast against the floor could be heard. The pack was hunting, and they had just found their prey.
„They are here!“ the boy who had thrown up earlier yelled, his face turning completely white as he scrambled backward up the upper stairs. „Oh god, there are too many of them! The door is going to break!“
„Stay together and don’t move. Just hold your spears ready to stab,“ Michael said. He did not move an inch.
He planted his back foot firmly against the edge of the stone step, and raised his iron-tipped recruit’s spear. He held the weapon at throat height, pointing the sharp metal tip directly at the edge of the stone curve.
The heavy wooden door at the top of the stairs burst open with a loud slam.
The first Hound-Fox leaped into the stairwell. It caught the heavy scent of human sweat and charged down the steps with a wild, wet growl. But as it hit the sharp turn of the staircase, its high speed became its downfall. The monster tried to spring forward to bite, but its powerful shoulder slammed hard into the granite wall. The narrow space completely ruined its balance and stopped its forward momentum.
Before the beast could even shake its head or snap its jaws, Michael’s arm flashed forward.
The iron blade of his spear drove straight into the open, snarling mouth of the monster. The metal tore through flesh and bone, cutting cleanly through the back of its neck and pinning it briefly to the stone step.
[You have killed a Hound-Fox (Level 1)]
[You have received 10 Experience Points]
Michael pulled his spear back. The dead monster slumped forward, its large, bloody body becoming a heavy obstacle on the narrow steps.
A second Hound-Fox was growling furiously. It tried to leap over its dead packmate, but its hind legs caught on the thick fur. It stumbled forward, its head shaking blindly as it tried to squeeze its upper body through the tight, restricted bottleneck.
*Thrust.*
Michael’s spear tip flashed forward again through the dark, hitting the second monster directly between its glowing red eyes. The iron tip sank deep into the brain.
[You have killed a Hound-Fox (Level 1)]
[You have received 10 Experience Points]
A third beast rounded the bloody corner, its jaws snapping wildly, but the granite walls kept its body perfectly locked in a straight line. It had absolutely no room to dodge left or right. Michael’s arm moved, driving the iron tip forward into the center of the creature’s chest.
[You have killed a Hound-Fox (Level 1)]
[You have received 10 Experience Points]
The notification flashed briefly in his peripheral vision, but Michael completely ignored it. His focus was entirely locked on the physical feedback of his weapon. He had started this battle with 27 XP. With these three kills, he was now at 57 XP—passing the 50 XP threshold required for Level 3.
Instantly, a warm, strange energy surged through his muscles, temporarily dulling the pain in his left arm.
[Ding! You have leveled up]
[Congratulations! You have reached Level 3. All baseline attributes have automatically increased by +1 point. You have received 5 attribute points and 1 skill point]
[Talent Unlocked: Iron Will]
But the slaughterhouse was not finished.
The System messages hovered at the edge of his vision, but Michael did not look at them. Behind the third dead monster, the heavy, frantic breathing of two more Hound-Foxes echoed from the upper landing. They were growling in frustration, their path blocked by the growing pile of bleeding bodies. Driven by the primal hunger, they scrambled over the dead flesh, forcing their bodies into the narrow bottleneck.
Michael stepped back half a pace, his newly boosted attributes making his movements feel a fraction sharper. What’s more, his wounds were healed as he had expected as he reached level 2 earlier.
He did not care that he had unlocked his first Talent, nor did he care that every other student at Level 3 was currently discovering this tier of power. There was no time to analyze the new rules.
A fourth snout rounded the corner, slipping on the slick, blood-soaked granite.
*Thrust.*
The iron blade punched through its windpipe.
[You have killed a Hound-Fox (Level 1)]
[You have received 10 Experience Points]
The fifth and final beast tried to push through the gap under its dying packmate, snapping viciously at Michael’s boots. Michael simply brought the butt of his spear down hard onto its skull to disorient it, before driving the sharp iron tip straight into its neck.
[You have killed a Hound-Fox (Level 1)]
[You have received 10 Experience Points]
The heavy, metallic scratching sounds from above finally stopped. The hallway outside fell into dead silence. The only sound left inside the narrow stone staircase was the ragged, panicked breathing of the twelve students.
Michael lowered his spear, his hands coated in dark crimson. The translucent blue screens continued to blink right in front of his eyes, flashing bright notifications about his Level 3 status and his newly unlocked Talent. He desperately wanted to open the sheets and calculate his new progression paths, but the heavy thump of a different, larger sound suddenly echoed from the deep basement below them.
Michael closed his eyes for a short second, forcing the glowing System screens to minimize. *No time,* he thought coldly, his knuckles tightening around the bloody wood. *This Talent will have to wait.*