Boosted by the nascent Spear Intent, Nico's spear struck the icy carapace of the Dungeon Boss.
A thin net of cracks spread from the point of contact.
However, Nico was not to be fooled.
Though the touch had been brief, he had sensed another layer of ice beneath the first one.
He had well and truly understood the gulf between him and the overlord at that moment.
Even after transforming his will akin to a razor-sharp spear, it seemed the gap still existed.
…And a significantly wide one at that.
Chasing away the despair, Nico's chest blazed with a searing passion.
A passion to leave his mark on the blasted armour of his overwhelming foe.
The Dungeon Boss shuddered slightly from the impact of Nico's spear, the madness in its many eyes burgeoning as if sensing the new danger its prey posed.
The brown-haired boy witnessed its chelicerae twitch before an ominous premonition gripped his mind. He shook off the sudden fear, knowing it didn't matter how many threads of silk came his way, he would cut them all down.
A split-second later, just as Nico had predicted, a seemingly endless number of threads shot out of the arachnid's underbelly.
He slashed, he pierced, he parried, he twirled, and he yelled, somehow surviving the relentless maelstrom of silk.
He survived long enough for the half-blood to catch up and send a crushing strike towards the durable carapace.
Leon's sledgehammer smashed into the ice, sending tiny shards splaying into the air.
Contrary to the initial assessment, not much damage had been caused. But it was a start, and that was all that mattered.
Leon noted he would have to strike at the parts where Nico had already struck to deal the greatest amount of destruction to the blasted armour. A determined light bloomed within his eyes.
Furious that another gnat had joined its delicious prey, the overlord of the Dungeon kicked outward with two of its legs, the speed alarmingly quick.
At the same time, a barrage of flaming arrows attacked the ice surrounding its eyes, serving to blind it for a moment.
The darts released by the elven duo distracted the Dungeon Boss enough for Nico to just barely dash behind Leon's burly form. He spun in the same movement, rushing past the half-blood's left side.
A dull bang echoed a second later.
Nico noticed his stocky companion trembling under the sheer force contained within the arachnid's attack.
He silently hoped that Leon could continue to hold.
As his will flared, heralding a desire to rip the abomination in front of him to shreds, Nico used the Second Form to flow into the Third Form as soon as the first attack hit.
Chaining the momentum, he unleashed hell for as long as he safely could, before dashing out the way as soon as the overlord sent a leg or two to deal with his pesky presence.
Whenever the arachnid focused its attention on the brown-haired boy, the half-blood took advantage of the opportunity and sent his sledgehammer barreling with crushing force.
His muscles beneath his dirty armour bulged again and again, supplying him with the power necessary to turn his weapon into a miniature battering ram.
On top of all that, the vexing arrows released by the archers annoyed the arachnid enough that it did not know which of the ants to focus on.
Eventually, the Dungeon Boss shrieked, its fury growing larger and more furious than a raging storm.
How dare these ants try to defy its will!
It was the overlord!
All creatures within this space had bowed their heads at its might.
These gnats would be no exception.
The cloaked figure's expression turned slightly grave for the first time.
It seemed the arachnid had finally escaped the mind hex he had put it under…
Nico and Leon paled slightly, feeling their meagre store of energy drain even further.
They gritted their teeth, having no choice but to keep moving.
A few paces behind, the two elves noticed the arachnid's boiling fury from afar and cursed.
"I'll go back them up with my sword. Stay here and continue to fire off the last of our arrows, Isaac!" The older sibling ordered, handing over his last couple of arrows.
The younger elf wanted to protest, say that he would join them, say that he could be relied upon, but all that faded upon him sighting the unparalleled seriousness on his brother's face.
Isaac sighed and told his brother to do his best to remain safe.
His fingers stung, and his arms burned from releasing so many arrows, yet now more than ever his team needed him.
He would not let them down.
Especially his brother.
The green-haired youth gritted his teeth, nocking another dart with a wild look in his red eyes.
Oliver nodded and summoned his sword from the dimensional space.
A second later, an intricate weapon manifested in his grip.
It was sleek and polished, doubtless looked after very carefully.
A gem engraved into the jagged crossguard and a long hilt graced its bottom; the sharp tip of the sword glinting menacingly in the hazy gloom. He closed his eyes, and spoke to the sword, hoping it could give him courage when he needed it most.
He cursed his lack of mastery over his soul core, and his inability to form a Mana Core.
Supposedly, those with more refined control over their soul energy - generated from a higher tier of Soul Core, made possible after one possessed a Mana Core - could theoretically coat their weapons with the invisible energy and directly attack the soul, bypassing all other forms of defence.
Alas, he was still weak, and so he had paid the price for that by not having access to that killer move.
Gritting his teeth, the older of the two green-haired youths dashed forward, taking up his position on the other side of the half-blood.
He would not let the damned spider get within an inch of his younger brother.
As the clash entered a new phase, its ferocity and associated danger tripling, it was time for Nico to implement his second act.
One that relied on Oliver's help.
Allowing Leon to tank the Dungeon Boss's increasingly furious strikes, the half-blood's shield continuing to release a dull thud every time it was hit, the human and elf dashed from behind and assaulted their overwhelming foe.
When the arachnid seemed to predict their movements, they switched positions, and then when it became accustomed to that, they switched it up even more.
Eventually, they were performing an intricate dance, where the line between life and death blurred, where the distinction between reality and fantasy faded, and only the absolute truth of their desires remained.
The only constant in the chaotic flurry of the second act was the armoured half-blood, his burly form refusing to buckle. Even when it seemed like he would be no more, drowned under the crushing force of his foe, he summoned an unknown strength from the centre of his being.
A strength that helped him firm his stance and once again reaffirm why half-bloods were the strongest warriors in times of need.
However, under such strenuous activity, the group of youths were bound to grow tired.
And exhausted they became, on top of the bone-deep weariness which had already claimed their bones the nights before.
Nico cursed feeling his whole body on fire. He wasn't sure how much longer he could continue to drag out the elaborate show.
It seemed he would have to up the ante for one final act.
Just then, a blazing arrow struck the ice around the arachnid's eyes, melting a tiny portion of it, along with some of the already defrosted ice.
Isaac suddenly paled, finding he had no more arrows to shoot.
"I'm out of arrows!" he yelled, alerting his team.
The vanguard cursed.
Unfortunately for the young squad, it seemed their luck had finally run out.
The Dungeon Boss, whose carapace was riddled with an innumerable number of thin cracks, unleashed a shrill gurgle as soon as the barrage of arrows ceased.
'Not good!' all three youths in its immediate vicinity thought.
The fury and madness in the arachnid's gaze exploded forth, bringing with it another level of menace.
Now that it had nothing to distract it, the Demon easily swatted the pesky gnats aside.
An iron taste filled Nico's mouth as he rolled on the floor.
Leon's shield bent, and several parts of his armour were heavily deformed, while Oliver held his side painfully, coughing tiny droplets of blood.
He mentally thanked the half-blood for blocking a portion of the blow.
His race was known for their weaker physiques, and so if he had received a direct blow, it would have swiftly turned him into a pile of elven paste.
As the haze of pain in his mind cleared for a moment, Oliver screamed, "Run Isaac! Go!"
"No! We'll die together!" The younger elf responded stubbornly from afar, biting his lip.
"Isaac, don't make me take an oath to the Cleanser of Worlds! If you don't run this instant, I will never forgive you!"
A flood of tears erupted from Isaac's eyes.
"No, no, no…." he muttered, his face a mask of crestfallen grief.
The words his brother had said seemed to pierce the deepest corners of his heart.
How could he let his brother hate him?
Everything he had done in his childhood was for his brother.
The countless hours he had spent studying in school were for his brother. The times he had asked Oliver to teach him how to wield a bow were for his brother.
Heck, even this stupid Ceremony was for his brother.
How could he then possibly leave his precious brother all alone to die a miserable death?
Releasing a sob wracked with pain and sorrow, Isaac found his body responding to Oliver's command.
He wanted to dig his heels in, to stop, to do anything other than run, but his own body refused to listen.
To add insult to injury, the Dungeon Boss seemed intent on taking him down first.