"So, if we have you three as the vanguard, then me and Ollie can back you up with some ranged cover." Isaac mused aloud.
"That sounds wise." Nico nodded.
Although, he very much doubted the cloaked figure would participate without any fuss. That was a problem they'd have to solve sooner rather than later.
Leon signalled his agreement to the idea as well.
"Ah, I'm not sure if you guys have encountered this, but these spiders possess the capability to call for backup using a soundless scream," The brown-haired boy's brow furrowed, "And, it's not just one or two that come, but a whole horde instead."
Nico hid a shiver.
"Then, that means we just have to slaughter them before they have any chance to call for backup…" Oliver remarked indifferently, his eyes still closed.
"What he said." Isaac grinned.
Nico nodded in acceptance of their words before he returned the grin.
Inwardly, he felt somewhat confident that his squad could overcome any challenge thrown at them.
And while he had yet to see Isaac and Oliver in action, he had a sinking suspicion they were anything but weak.
***
The Dungeon Core.
The most central point within a Dungeon… and the area where the Dungeon Boss usually lay in unconquered bastilles.
It was also the source of all mana within the Dungeon.
Needless to say, the concentration of ambient mana in the air found within that space was also staggering. Enough, to create a perfect breeding ground for those who sought to embark on the path toward the divine.
While Nico did not know the specifics of a Dungeon core and how it operated - each one was supposedly more different from the last - he did know that he had to get there at all costs. Even if it meant suffering from countless injuries and experiencing continuous pain… all of that paled in comparison to the prospect of not reaching the centre of the bastille.
Leaning back into the wall, Nico shifted, feeling the rough rock cause him no shortage of discomfort. He endured, though, since this was a rare moment for him to have some rest.
Faced with the constantly shifting terrain, their nerves were extremely taut. And rightly so, for they had no clue whether they would receive a chance to progress, or in the worst case regress.
All of that served to tire them out quicker.
However, to Nico's surprise, after a certain point in time, the Dungeon suddenly stopped shifting. What replaced it was a deep, foreboding, and ominous silence. The kind that gave the brown-haired boy a sense that it was something akin to the calm before a storm.
At first, the change had puzzled him greatly. But after much thinking, Nico settled on the answer he believed most feasible. An answer that involved the notion of day and night in this otherworldly realm.
It was… that perhaps the layout of the Dungeon only changed during the day and ceased when it turned into night.
Since there was no sun to tell the passage of time and the misty gloom seemed unchanging, the brown-haired boy was unsure how the concept of chronometry worked within the bastille.
Nico had one major piece of evidence that supported his hypothesis, though:
The Ancestor's blessing which had settled within his soul just before he entered the Dungeon, had faded rapidly; mere embers left of what was once a strong and tangible feeling.
If the protection was almost nearing its end, then that only meant one thing.
Nightfall was near.
Or, it was already here, and the last remaining embers were just about to dissipate.
To provide further proof, he also swore his surroundings had turned just that little darker as well. But that could have just been his eyes playing tricks on him… the blessing stored within his soul was a much more reliable indicator.
Either way, he was grateful for the reprieve. Even if that break involved a deep, bleak, and grim silence that shrouded the hazy gloom.
One that seemed like a dire warning of what they might soon face.
Shaking his head, the brown-haired boy sighed silently. His ears registered the sound of subtle snoring, and, as he shifted his neck, he found Leon sleeping lightly with his eyes closed.
The half-blood's breathing wasn't very deep… that was to say he didn't seem too immersed in his slumber.
In the likely case of a sudden attack, he could respond swiftly without needing to be woken up.
Speaking of attacks… Nico's gaze habitually scanned the hazy corridor, finding Oliver and Isaac keeping watch a few paces on either side of him and Leon. As for the cloaked figure, the brown-haired boy was sure he was as far away from them as the Dungeon would allow.
'Would it hurt for him to co-operate?' Nico exhaled, causing a misty cloud to form in front of his face.
Staring at the rapidly diminishing cloud, he wondered inwardly why he always found himself paired with disagreeable folk.
First, it had been the Heir of the Stanburg Family, who had let arrogance and pride take full hold of his countenance until it permeated through every inch of his body and mind.
The cloaked figure, however, was a little different.
Sure, on the surface they shared a few similarities, namely the sneering and the arrogant words. However, the major distinction separating the two was that the hooded individual had the strength to back up his claims.
Lucas had certainly been powerful - he was a scion of a Noble House after all -, but even with that, the haughty noble had let the conceit and hubris so many of his station possessed cloud his vision, dulling his potential and growth.
Something which the cloaked figure did not seem to have after some deeper scrutiny.
It was as if what fuelled him wasn't a trivial thing like boasting about his achievements… rather; it appeared to be a well of furious, boiling anger. His peer's hostility toward him provided further evidence for this theory.
Nico rubbed his eyes, releasing a weary sigh.
'Why does everything have to be so damn complicated?'
He was not eager to find out what Fate had in store for him.
Moving his gaze upward toward the stalactites that glowed softly on the ceiling, Nico's expression turned inquisitive, forgetting all about the cloaked figure and the haughty Stanburg heir.
His mind tried to recall what he had learned about the First Cataclysm when he was younger.
'Being inside a Dungeon firsthand really brings stuff like that into perspective, huh?'
Nico's eyes rippled silently, remembering the horror of what had happened during the early days.
The days… when Dungeons had first arrived in their world.