The featureless ghost moved with a fluid grace, its form shifting and blending with the shadows. It advanced toward Teryn, its speed almost imperceptible. Teryn raised his sword, hooves planted firmly on the cold stone, trying to anticipate the ghost’s movements. He swung, but the blade passed through the ghost as though it were smoke.

Viv, darting around the perimeter of the room, was quick and precise with her enchanted blade. Her strikes were aimed to disrupt, but they had little effect on the ghost’s form. She gritted her teeth, frustration growing. "It's like fighting air!" she muttered, her voice tight.

Meyla danced nervously around the ghost, her anxiety flaring with every near miss. She tried to keep pace with its unpredictable movements, but her hooves skidded on the stone, barely dodging an ethereal tendril that lashed out at her. "Teryn, we’re getting nowhere!" she shouted, fear creeping into her voice.

Teryn gritted his teeth, his focus faltering. "Lazlo, what do we do?"

Hovering just outside the fray, Lazlo scanned the ghost’s movements, his spectral eyes narrowing. "It’s like it’s shifting between worlds," he said, his voice distant. "I can feel it, but... it's too fast. It’s hard to predict its next move."

Just as Lazlo finished speaking, the ghost lunged toward Teryn with terrifying speed. He barely managed to raise his sword in defense, but the ghost's energy struck him hard, sending him stumbling backward. His vision blurred as pain radiated through his body, and he felt his strength wane.

Meyla, seeing Teryn falter, charged forward with newfound determination. She tried to shield him from the ghost’s next attack, but the ghost slipped past her defenses with ease, its shadowy tendrils lashing at her side. Meyla cried out in pain, her legs buckling beneath her.

"Fall back!" Teryn gasped, struggling to stay on his hooves. "We’re outmatched!"

Viv, realizing the truth in his words, made a hasty retreat toward Teryn and Meyla. "We have to regroup. We’re not ready for this fight."

The ghost circled them, its featureless face betraying no emotion, yet its presence felt more oppressive with each passing moment. Teryn, using what little strength he had left, helped Meyla to her hooves. She winced but nodded her thanks, determined not to let her fear take over.

Lazlo, his ghostly form flickering with the strain of the fight, floated closer. "I'll cover your retreat. Go—now!"

With no other choice, Teryn, Meyla, and Viv turned and fled toward the narrow passage they had come through. Lazlo lingered, trying to shield the others retreat.

The soundless arena behind them grew distant as they scrambled back through the dungeon’s twisting corridors. Their breath came in ragged gasps, their bodies aching from the battle.

They finally found a small alcove in the dungeon’s winding tunnels where they could stop and catch their breath. Teryn collapsed against the cold stone wall, panting heavily. Meyla stood beside him, her body trembling from the pain of her wounds, but she remained upright. Viv paced back and forth, frustration etched on her face.

"We weren’t ready," Viv said, her voice sharp with self-criticism. "That thing was beyond us."

Teryn shook his head, still catching his breath. "We didn’t know what we were up against. We fought well, but it wasn’t enough."

Meyla lowered her head, exhaustion pulling at her. "What now?"

Lazlo reappeared, floating into the alcove, his form dimmer than before. "We’ll need to rest and recover before we can face anything like that again. The ghost is lingering back there for now, but we won’t be safe for long."

Teryn nodded, wincing as he shifted his weight. "We heal. We regroup. And next time, we’ll be ready."

With that, the group settled in to tend to their wounds. They had faced a terrifying opponent and barely escaped with their lives, but the bond between them had only strengthened. The dungeon’s depths still waited, and despite the setback, they knew this wouldn’t be the end of their journey.