[10 days later]
CLING... CLING... CLING...
The sound of metal striking rock echoed in the stifling darkness. Nathan's pickaxe sent sparks flying as he worked, his face glistening with sweat. The torchlight barely pierced the gloom, revealing little beyond their immediate surroundings.
"When I said I was in," Nathan muttered between gasping breaths as he continued, "Hah... Hah... I didn't know I was signing up to be a slave here."
His glare was heavy, directed at Dante, who stood nearby, sword drawn, his posture tense but unwavering.
"We need to maintain caution, Nathan," Dante said, his voice steady despite the exhaustion in his eyes. "You should know by now that these monsters, despite their size, are shrewd. They attack when we're least prepared."
The cave was suffocatingly hot, the air thick and oppressive. Each breath felt like a struggle as if the very air was draining his strength. Sweat dripped down Nathan's brow, mixing with the grime on his face, and he couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped in a never-ending cycle of exhaustion.
"Yeah, yeah," Nathan grumbled, his voice strained and breath shallow. "Doesn't make it any less miserable."
In the beginning, the task had seemed straightforward. The upper levels of the cave were well-lit and safe, and they had cleared those areas in three days. But as they descended deeper, the dregmites became a constant threat.
One had attacked Nathan while he was drinking water. Another had ambushed Dante while he was taking a piss. Each encounter left them more on edge as they sustained injuries that felt shameful coming from F- ranked monsters, and their progress was slowed by the need to stay alert.
"Do you think I'm enjoying this?" Dante sighed, his grip tightening on his sword. "The mental exhaustion of being constantly on guard is just as bad as swinging that pickaxe for hours."
Nathan, too tired to argue, let out a frustrated breath and continued mining the excelsiors, his movements sluggish from exhaustion.
Excelsior.
A stone known for its unique conductive properties with chakra, making it indispensable in forging armaments—be it weapons, armor, or even accessories.
These stones were extremely rare, with rarity increasing based on their classification. They had four grades depending on their purity: Low, Mid, High, and Peak.
Excelsiors didn't need appraisers to identify their grades; the intensity of their glow was enough to distinguish between a low grade and a mid-grade or a mid-grade from a high grade.
Only a few floors could produce these fossils, as they were abundantly rare and hard to come by.
Luckily for the newbies starting their ascension, the first floor was one of the few that had them. However, this quarry had never produced anything higher than a mid-grade excelsior.
Among the new batches, only a few individuals knew of this rarity. Dante had learned about it through the legendary edition guidebook.
He and Nathan had agreed to quietly collect a few of these stones for themselves, hoping to forge a higher-grade armament.
Over the past 10 days, they had mined 36 low-grade stones and 1 mid-grade stone, and killed around 47 dregmites. With the rewards and corpses, they would earn around 600 G, which was productive but far from their target of 2000 G.
Their only hope now was to kill the Dreglord and his minions within the next 5 days. The Dreglord had proven to be even shrewder than the dregmites, having already butchered 7 parties by setting traps, turning the hunters into prey, as those parties never returned to the surface.
This made Dante and Nathan reconsider their approach. Only now did they understand why not many people bothered with the second quest.
But neither of them was backing down from the challenge, despite the risks.
'I have already killed an F+ ranked beast, and this one would be no different,' Nathan thought, determination and self-confidence brimming in his eyes as he resolved himself.
Dante, however, was more cautious. He was carefully weighing the risks and considering ways to tackle the Dreglord without sustaining losses.
He planned to slowly eliminate the Dreglord's minions on the lower floors and strike on the last day of the quest deadline, when the Dreglord was alone, with no backup.
*THUD*
A sudden noise echoed through the cave, halting Nathan's movements. He turned toward Dante, who was staring intently at a dark spot to the left.
"What was that?" Nathan asked, his voice breaking the tense silence.
"I'm not sure," Dante replied, his eyes never leaving the shadowed area. "But my
Nathan stored his pickaxe in his storage and brought out his spear, signaling Dante, who nodded in response.
They moved steadily toward the source of the disturbance, Nathan holding the torchlight while Dante gripped the hilt of his blade, ready to strike at a moment's notice.
The air was thick with tension as they advanced, the light from the torch flickering, but then the silence was broken by a low, muffled cry.
'Uhhe.. Uhhe.. snob...'
Dante instinctively drew his blade, preparing to swing at the shadowy figure lying against the rocks ahead.
"Wait!!!" Nathan shouted urgently, his voice cutting through the air.
Dante halted mid-swing, his eyes narrowing as Nathan stepped closer, the light revealing the figure of an injured girl, her face pale and filled with fear.
Dante, having been on edge for hours, had mistaken the small, crumpled form for a dregmite. His mind had already been clouded with the instinct to strike first, and he hadn't considered the possibility that the cry was human.
He had been just inches away from slicing the girl into two.
Dante stayed silent as he lowered his sword, but he offered no apologies. With a sigh, Nathan stepped up to speak with her, knowing that the introverted Dante was terrible in these situations.
Nathan's gaze shifted to the bloodied trail ahead, noticing the girl's wounded leg. She had likely been struggling to walk, clinging to the walls in the dark before collapsing here. Her clothes were torn, and her face pale with exhaustion.
She was a little thin, her frail frame almost hidden beneath the dirt and grime. Her hair which seemed to be a vibrant shade of purple, was now matted and wrinkled, falling unevenly around her face. Her glasses were broken, the lenses cracked, but they still sheltered the beautiful, serene blue eyes that seemed to shine with quiet strength despite her obvious pain.
Nathan offered her a bottle of water from his storage space, his voice soft as he asked, "What is your name, little girl?"
The girl hesitated for a moment before taking the bottle, her hands trembling slightly. She gulped down the water, emptying it in one go.
"Anya... My name is Anya Manalight," she replied, her voice faint, managing to speak despite her shaken state.
Dante and Nathan observed her quietly, which made Anya uneasy. She clung to her knees as if embracing herself, her gaze flickering between them, unsure of what to expect.
Dante asked the question that had been on both their minds, "Are you a noble?"
The question caught her off guard, and she seemed taken aback for a moment before nodding lightly.
She might have wondered how they came to that conclusion, but it was clear to them.
Only someone from nobility would announce their name along with their surname, as if to boast with pride.
Add to that her graceful introduction and her rich appearance, now marred by her injuries, and it didn't take long for them to understand.
Anya, feeling the weight of their scrutiny, shrank back slightly. Despite her condition, she felt compelled to offer a proper greeting.
"I come from the plane of Nemesia, the border continent between the 4th and 5th realms of the tower. My family serves the Armedia Empire as a Count family."
Her voice faltered, dropping to a whisper, barely audible, "If you save me, I can ask my family to reward you when we reach Eryndor."
Her words trailed off, growing weaker and lacking the confidence they might have had before.
There was a quiet desperation in her eyes, and the way she clung to her knees, her posture shrinking in on itself, made it clear that she was silently begging for their help, though she didn't say it outright.
Nathan and Dante exchanged glances, whispering among themselves. After a moment, they reached an agreement. There was no harm in bringing her out. Despite her noble demeanor, they couldn't bring themselves to scold or belittle her.
Nathan took out a low-grade healing potion and handed it to Anya.
She accepted it, her lips curling into a bright smile that could have melted the hearts of anyone—anyone except these two.
Nathan's kind demeanor vanished, replaced by a sharp edge of seriousness as he commanded coldly,
"Don't think it's free. You'll have to pay 20 G for it later."
"Tw-twenty grand? For a single potion!?" Anya stuttered, her shock evident as she sought confirmation, taken aback by the absurd price.
"Yes, twenty grand," Nathan replied without hesitation. He knew he was pushing it, essentially extorting a little girl in misery. But she was a noble and had promised them rewards. He saw this as an opportunity to profit and also to test her background claims.
His voice remained stern as he added,
"It's because you're using our last saved potion. We're essentially risking our lives to save you. And this doesn't even include among the reward you promised us."
His tone carried no trace of guilt for the blatant lie he had just concocted.
Meanwhile, Dante remained silent, observing Anya's every reaction and gesture. His sharp gaze studied her carefully as if trying to uncover hidden truths.
Finally, he broke his silence, his voice calm but probing,
"Why are you in this state? And where is your party?"
At his questions, Anya's face shifted, her expression turning from blank confusion to dawning realization before crumbling into despair.
Tears began streaming down her cheeks as she lowered her head, her hands trembling as they clutched her knees.
She tried to speak, but her voice cracked under the weight of her emotions. "No... Avril, my friend, she..." Her words faltered, her breath hitching as a sob escaped her lips.
"What happened to her?"
"Hey! Can't you see she's shaken?"
Dante ignored Nathan's remark, maintaining his piercing gaze on Anya as if trying to pull the truth from her.
Anya took a long moment to recover, her breaths uneven. Finally, she began, her voice trembling but steady enough to continue.
"Me and Avril were childhood friends. Both of us had partied up and were on our last private quest when..."