The Lost Arm

After clearing several halls, Lisa readjusted the pack frame on her shoulders.

The golem magic stones crammed inside clunked dully against one another, and the thick leather straps dug into her shoulders.

We passed through the archway on the twenty-ninth floor and entered the landing, where the smell of soup lingered. Balzac called out from behind the makeshift counter.

"You guys are pretty impressive. You can clear a hall with just five people?"

Balzac, who had been stirring the pot, fixed his gaze on Lisa's back and stopped moving.

"Well, we managed."

Lyle replied, rubbing the tip of his nose.

"Just managing is impressive. Normally, it takes two full parties to clear this floor."

"You mean twenty people?"

Lisa asked...