The morning sun barely crept above the horizon when the vast assembly of adventurers and warriors gathered at the dungeon's formidable entrance. The air was thick with anticipation and the murmur of a hundred voices discussing strategies and potential dangers. Amidst the crowd, the towering figure of Krazthir, the draconian warrior, stood prominently on a makeshift platform constructed just for this briefing.
Clearing his throat, Krazthir's commanding voice echoed against the ancient stone walls of the dungeon, instantly silencing the crowd. "Attention!" he barked, his tone firm but infused with a palpable sense of urgency. "We are here not just to explore but to prevent further atrocities by the intruders who have dared to breach this sacred ground. Our mission is clear—to stop them from causing more harm and securing whatever dark powers they seek."
He surveyed the crowd, his gaze sharp and assessing. "We will divide into multiple teams, each taking different routes throughout the dungeon. My team will lead the charge on the main route. As veterans know, this path is both the quickest and the most perilous, but we are not here to shy away from danger."
Krazthir paused, allowing his words to sink in, then continued, "Those among you less experienced with the dungeon's threats will bolster our numbers, ensuring no creature within these walls can withstand our combined might. However, should any of you encounter the group of cloaked individuals—our primary targets—do not engage alone. Signal for support. Observe and track them if you can do so safely. We cannot afford recklessness; they are five days ahead of us and unfamiliar with this labyrinth. Chances are they will not have progressed beyond the twentieth floor."
He looked around, his expression stern yet encouraging. "Should you find yourselves in a position of advantage, maintain vigilance. These intruders are dangerous. Do not underestimate them."
"Is everyone clear on their roles and routes?" Krazthir demanded, his voice booming across the gathered crowd.
A robust chorus of "Yes, sir!" responded, the sound reverberating through the morning air, a testament to their readiness and resolve.
Krazthir nodded, satisfied with their response. "Then let's move out and put an end to this madness. For the safety of our world and the defeat of those who would threaten it, let us march forth!"
The crowd erupted into a powerful cheer, a unified roar of determination and courage. As the echo faded, the adventurers began filing into the dungeon's gaping maw, each team with its assigned route and tasks, their steps resolute.
Amukelo and everyone joined the main party of the strongest people in the Fallenhoods guild that was going through the main route. As the party descended further into the dungeon, the atmosphere subtly shifted. The air became cooler and damper, echoing the slight drip of water from stalactites overhead. The initial floors, while not particularly challenging for a seasoned group like the Fallenhoods, required vigilance due to the sudden flurries of attacks from shadow-dwelling creatures. These critters, though small and relatively weak, were nimble and numerous, often leaping from the dark recesses of the cave in an attempt to overwhelm through sheer numbers.
The rocky terrain, interspersed with patches of hardy underground flora, provided ample hiding spots for these monsters, adding a slight delay to the group's swift descent. Every so often, a sharp hiss or a low growl echoed through the cavernous passageways, met with a swift and decisive response from the team's front-line fighters. Elandir's arrows whistled through the air, finding their marks with deadly precision, while Brorin's rune-etched hammer sent shockwaves through the ranks of their diminutive foes.
Progress, though steady, was momentarily hampered when they reached the tenth level—a more open cavern that served as the lair for the level's boss, a massive cyclops with thick, horn-like protrusions above its singular, glaring eye. Its skin was tough, akin to the rocky walls that surrounded them, and its slow, lumbering movements belied the strength behind each swing of its club-like arms.
The Cyclops posed a significant threat due to its resilience and raw power, but its lack of speed was its downfall. Amukelo and his companions adapted quickly, dodging the creature's cumbersome attacks while striking at its vulnerabilities. The battle, while brief, was quite intense, with each member of the team showcasing their abilities. Krazthir's dual-bladed sword danced around the cyclops, slicing through the air and flesh with equal ease, while Serah's healing spells ensured any minor injuries were quickly remedied.
After the cyclops fell with a thunderous crash, the team took a moment to regroup and catch their breath. The air was filled with the faint scent of ozone and dust, a testament to the magical and physical forces unleashed during the fight.
As they prepared to move deeper into the dungeon, Amukelo inquired about what lay ahead, sensing a change in the dungeon's atmosphere as they approached a particularly serene stretch of the corridor.
Krazthir turned to him, a slight smile playing on his lips as he responded, "This is what we call the safe zone. It's a sanctuary of sorts, a reprieve after every boss fight. In these areas, monsters do not spawn, and adventurers can rest, tend to their wounds, and prepare for the challenges ahead without the threat of attack. It's a place to gather strength and strategize, essential for any successful expedition into the deeper, more dangerous levels of the dungeon."