Alice's meal sat untouched in front of her, the steam rising slowly as she absentmindedly toyed with her fork. Her golden hair hung loosely around her face, partly obscuring the quiet sorrow in her eyes.
"What's wrong, my adorable little lady? Why do you look so down?"
The smooth, honeyed voice belonged to Robert, a young and strikingly handsome Vampire with sharp features and slicked-back ebony hair. His fanged smile gleamed as he crouched down beside her, radiating his usual charm in an attempt to cheer her up.
"Robert, can you back off a little, please?" Alice said, scooting away with a weary sigh. Her tone wasn't harsh, but it carried enough weight to show she wasn't in the mood for his antics.
"What? Oi, Robert, are you trying to suck her blood again?" Pincer's voice rang out from the other side of the makeshift dining area. His sharp, insectoid features twisted into a mocking smirk. "Do you want us to knock out those tiny fangs of yours?"
Robert spun on his heel, his crimson eyes narrowing at the accusation. "What? Shrimp-head, I was just checking on my teammate!"
"Really? Then why were you grinning and flashing your fangs just now?" Pincer shot back, folding his arms in mock suspicion.
"Hmph, that's just a trait of my race. Got a problem with that?" Robert snapped, his usual suave demeanor replaced with irritation.
The tension between them thickened as Robert's glare grew sharper, his vampiric aura subtly radiating around him. His posture screamed restraint, but the air suggested he wasn't far from acting on his annoyance.
"Oi, you two, knock it off," Claw interjected with a lazy grin, though his multifaceted eyes darted between them, clearly enjoying the exchange.
Alice, sensing that the situation was about to escalate into something truly ridiculous, sighed and raised her hands.
"…Please stop it, you guys," she said, her voice laced with exasperation.
She puffed out her cheeks in a soft pout, her expression so unexpectedly endearing that it immediately disarmed the group.
Both Pincer and Robert froze mid-retort, blinking in stunned silence. Claw snickered quietly but didn't dare break the spell.
A shared realization dawned among them, and Robert was the first to speak. "Hey, Pincer, Claw—we have to protect this cuteness."
"For once, the pale guy actually said something smart," Pincer quipped with an approving nod.
"Yeah, no kidding. She's adorable," Claw chimed in, his tone completely sincere.
Alice's cheeks flushed a soft pink as she waved her hands dismissively. "Hey! What kind of weird stuff are you guys saying?!"
"We're not weird," Robert replied confidently, his expression unusually serious as he leaned closer.
Before Alice could protest further, Pincer and Claw joined Robert in a sudden, coordinated assault on her cheeks, pinching them lightly and laughing at her squirming attempts to fend them off.
Though she grumbled in protest, Alice couldn't deny the warmth that spread in her chest. These men—odd, bickering, and sometimes insufferable—felt like her big brothers. They were her comrades, her support system, and, perhaps most importantly, her family in this unforgiving world.
Seeing them bicker amongst themselves made Alice smile slightly. It was a welcome distraction, a small bit of light in the otherwise grim atmosphere.
After what felt like an eternity of relentless tracking, they had finally stumbled upon signs of their elusive target—a rare slip in his otherwise impeccable caution.
"Sylvie," Alice called out, her sharp eyes scanning the surrounding terrain. "Wasn't this area crawling with spiders the last time we were here?"
Sylvie, her sharp serpent-like gaze darting to the scorched remnants of webs clinging to the cavern walls, took a moment to think. "You're right," she said slowly, her voice laced with a faint edge of recognition. "This place was infested before. We barely made it out alive the last time we were here."
"And that smoke column," Claw added, his sharp eyes noticing a faint trail of ashen air still lingering in the stagnant atmosphere. "He's been here recently."
The group's mood shifted instantly, their excitement and anxiety rising in tandem. Sylvie's voice cut through the mounting tension like a blade. "Everyone, draw your weapons. Spread out and search the area. He might still be nearby."
"Understood!" came the synchronized reply from the group, their voices filled with determination. The sound of metal unsheathing and armor shifting filled the cavern as they moved with practiced precision, alert and ready for whatever awaited them.
They pushed forward, deeper into the heart of the cavern, their senses heightened, every sound magnified in the quiet stillness. The tension in the air was palpable, hearts pounding as the anticipation of the final confrontation grew. Each step they took was measured, deliberate, their grips tightening on their weapons in preparation for an imminent clash.
However, what greeted them when they arrived wasn't the expected battle. Instead, the cavern stretched before them, eerily quiet, almost as if frozen in time.
The once-bustling spider nest was now an unrecognizable wasteland. Gigantic spider corpses, charred black and scattered like discarded toys, littered the ground.
The remnants of their once-proud webbing hung from the walls, broken and torn as if they had been shredded by some immense force. The air was thick with the smell of burnt chitin and scorched earth. The stench was overpowering.
At the center of the nest lay two elite monsters— a large earthworm and a gigantic spider. Their bodies contorted grotesquely, their heads crushed, and their limbs mangled beyond recognition. The sight was horrifying, even for those who had seen their share of bloodshed.
"Deputy, these monsters were high-ranking elites," Pincer remarked, his tone betraying a hint of respect for the fallen creatures' strength.
Alice nodded, her eyes narrowing as she crouched near the remains, examining the scene with keen interest. "If he fought both of them," she mused, "no matter how strong he is, he must be exhausted. It's likely he hasn't gone far."
Alice watched her subordinates as they took in the scene, her instincts telling her that Unknown was still nearby. She stepped forward, her voice firm. "Robert, Pincer, you two patrol the area outside the spider dome. If you spot him, don't engage immediately. Signal us first, and we'll come to assist."
"Understood, Deputy," came their quick response.
Brushing her hand over her blade, Alice ordered again. "Claw and Sylvie will check the area inside the dome. If you find anything unusual, report it immediately."
Claw nodded, eager for action. "Got it. What about you, Alice?" Sylvie asked.
Alice, her golden hair almost glowing in the dim light of the cavern, pointed her sword at the remains of the Mother Spider and Earth Dragon, then ordered the group to move away. "I'll inspect this area," she said, her tone quiet but resolute.
"We need to confirm the nature of these kills. No mistakes."
The team moved swiftly and quietly, their resolve hardening as they closed in on the heart of the nest. The weight of the task ahead loomed over them, but they knew they were one step closer to finding their elusive target.
Standing right in front of the Earth Dragon's massive carcass, Alice's sapphire eyes narrowed as she inspected the creature closely.
The immense beast had clearly fought fiercely in its final moments, but as her gaze traced over its body, she couldn't shake the sense that something was off.
The Earth Dragon's body wasn't excessively damaged, only butchered deliberately in an act of looting. There were deep, gaping bite wounds from the surrounding monsters, the kinds of injuries one would expect from such a violent encounter, but they didn't appear to be the cause of death.
The only significant injury that stood out was a large, crushing slash across its head—one that had cut through its thick, scaly hide and left a visible, gaping wound. That, she thought, could very well have led to its demise. But something nagged at her, a feeling that something else was at play here.
As she leaned closer to examine it further, her attention was drawn to another detail: a clean, precise slash to the creature's belly. Unlike the jagged and brutal marks of bite wounds scattered across its body, this one stood out—sharp, surgical even, and almost too clean.
There were no jagged edges or torn flesh around it. The wound seemed deliberate as if someone had intentionally aimed for a weak point, knowing exactly where to strike.
A feeling of realization crept up on her. Unknown. It had to be him. Only someone with precise, lethal skill could inflict such a clean and effective strike. This wasn't just for the battle.
'He's crazy!' Alice's mind raced as a terrifying thought began to take shape. Unknown wasn't just hiding nearby—he was hiding inside the Earth Dragon's carcass.
The idea struck her like a bolt of lightning. It made perfect sense. The gruesome slashes, the clean precision, and now the lingering magical signal.
He'd been hiding in plain sight all along, using the vast body of the Earth Dragon to cover himself, waiting for the right moment to strike—or perhaps to just observe.
Alice's jaw tightened with frustration as she sheathed her sword. With careful movements, she crouched down next to the bloated belly of the beast, her eyes scanning the area for any movement. Her hand rested on the hilt of her sword, ready for anything.
"Hey, do you know?" she called out, her voice sharp and unwavering. "When the magical signal doesn't fade, no matter how well you hide, I can still sense it."
Her words hung in the air, but there was no response. Not even a whisper.
"..."
Her irritation grew. She had already detected his presence inside the carcass. She was sure of it—he was there, somewhere. Why wasn't he responding?
"Not going to answer? Hey, I'm not an idiot. I know you're hiding in there," she said, her voice a mix of irritation and challenge.
But still, there was nothing. Silence stretched on, the only sounds the quiet drip of blood and the occasional groan of the dungeon's shifting stone.
Alice frowned, puffing her cheeks in frustration. She had expected at least some response—anything—but all she got was that maddening silence.
"Hey, let's talk," she urged, her patience growing thin. "Don't make me angry. I don't want to fight here."
Still, nothing. No movement, no answer, not even a sound.
Alice clenched her teeth. She wasn't going to let this go on. He was right there, hiding in the belly of the beast, and he was refusing to acknowledge her. If he thought he could get away by staying silent, he was gravely mistaken.
With a swift motion, she drew her sword again. The steel gleamed in the dim light as she raised it high, ready to end this frustrating stalemate.
Without hesitation, Alice slashed downward at the bloated belly of the Earth Dragon with all the force she could muster.
The blade cut through the air with a sharp whistle, but instead of slicing into the soft flesh of the carcass, it met a sudden, shocking resistance.
A crimson blade—a sword—intercepted her strike, deflecting her blade effortlessly.
The gleaming red sword flashed in the dim light—Eclipse. It was his. Unknown had been hiding in the carcass all along, waiting for the right moment to strike.
And now, he had made his move.
Alice's heart raced as she stared at the crimson blade, her grip tightening on her own sword. He was here. The long chase had come to this moment—face-to-face with the one who had evaded them all this time.