"It's finally over."
A weary sigh punctuated the stillness as one of the girls dropped onto the cold stone floor, her trembling hands barely able to keep her from collapsing completely. Blood—not hers, but thick and black like ink—clung to her fingers, staining them as she exhaled in exhaustion.
Six hours
For six relentless hours, we cut them down—shadow wolves, surging at us like an unending tide. No matter how many we slew, they kept coming, kept respawning, an infinite loop of carnage. Until suddenly, they stopped after slaughtering more than hundreds of thousands of them.
Their bodies littered the dungeon floor, but even as we watched, the remains were dissolving—dark mist curling into the air, as though they had never existed at all. They took less than half a minute to dissolve.
"Man, I'm beat." Another member groaned before sinking onto a nearby rock, stretching out aching limbs.
"Me too." Another groaned.
At first, we had tried everything. Searching for an exit. Finding a pattern. A weakness. But there had been nothing. No shortcuts. No tricks. The only way out was to force our way through by giving it our all.
It was a gamble—overloading the dungeon itself. We kept killing, draining whatever source powered the infinite spawning, hoping that eventually, we could exhaust it. It was like draining a battery until it ran dry. But in this case we are the battery.
We hadn't been sure it would work, but there had been no other option. We took turns—one group attacking while the others recovered. And in the end, the theory proved correct or atleast that's how it's supposed to be.
The wolves stopped coming. It's a good news that everyone is perfectly fine but something doesn't make sense.
And now, for the first time in what felt like days, everyone let their guard down. Even Ernst and Vaelon—who had each held out for two hour straight, single-handedly slaughtering more than half of the enemies alone—finally allowed themselves to rest.
Glenn, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths, surveyed the battlefield with a lingering sense of disbelief.
"What the hell was this?" His voice carried frustration, but beneath it, unease. "Is this seriously just the first floor?" He laid down on the floor taking his rest.
"This is too much..." With a weary sigh, Elaris sank to the floor, folding in on herself. Her arms wrapped around her legs, her head resting heavily on her knees. She didn't care how she looked—she just needed a moment to breathe.
Her support role in the raid had drained her completely. She had spent every ounce of her energy casting healing spells, mending wounds before infections could take hold. She immobilized the wolves, strengthened her allies, and kept the battle from spiraling into chaos. The strain weighed on her, her magic nearly spent.
I could say the same for Livia, but she had been careful—keeping her limits in check. And she had a good excuse. Unlike the others, we had been on the battlefield much earlier.
Ernst stretched, rolling his shoulders before sitting down with a satisfied sigh. "That was refreshing."
Vaelon gave a small, knowing smirk and sat beside him."It's good to get some exercise once in a while but something feels odd. It's not normal."
He's right, it's not normal, all the entrance and exit were completely blocked and removed the moment they joined the battle. So our only hope is to keep on taking out the wolves while trying to blow away the walls which doesn't work.
"You thought so too, huh." Ernst asked in a calm manner. "It's like we forgot something important."
Vaelon slightly nodded and took his rest.
"What was it?" He pondered.
"I gotta say, I'm so glad that we have Ernst and Vaelon or else we're so done for." Glenn let out a sigh of relief as he sat back up."Right, Eugene?"
Eugene and Glenn have their own small talk about the situation like brothers.
Vaelon Stroud.
I had little background check on him last night, but what I witnessed during that battle was enough to know he wasn't ordinary.
His fighting style was unnatural, almost inhuman. With a single slash of his sword, he could erase an entire row of wolves, even those behind him. And then there was the technique he used in the second wave—a single strike to the ground, and every wolf's skull was impaled at once by something invisible.
It was more than just swordsmanship. It was spatial manipulation.
Two techniques stood out:
Illusion Strike – All-Round Defensive Offense. A single motion that seemed to protect and attack simultaneously within a certain range. It's the first skill he used on the first wave, the all round single strike attack.
Link Art – Blade's Honor. At first, I thought it was the same as his second technique, but there was a difference—this one didn't physically impale his enemies. Instead, the damage transferred from one wolf to another, like a curse spreading through their ranks. The radius of effectiveness is unknown but from the looks of it, it must be more than fifty meters radius since he effortlessly reached the whole area.
The skills he displayed are closely similar to each other, they all seems to be an all round skills, however each of them are different.
Although he clearly had magic and other skills, Vaelin relied almost entirely on these mythical sword skills. When I asked why he is spamming these two, he simply answered, "It's more efficient this way." We could conclude that he purposely used the all round skills to finish the wave faster or to keep the other skills a secret.
And then there was Ernst Brave.
Even more mysterious than Vaelin, Ernst fought with lightning—but not in the reckless, explosive way most mages did.
His control was terrifying. Every single strike hit its mark. Not a single bolt was wasted, nor did it ever endanger any of us. It was like the lightning itself obeyed him. His wand is probably just for decoration.
"I wonder why all white hair male ability user are always specialized in lightning elements. His name sounds like a formidable warrior too." I sighed.
Even after forty minutes of battle, he hadn't needed to rest once. His mana never seemed to run out.
And yet, this wasn't his full strength. I could feel it. There was more. More that he hadn't shown. It's like a pro in a beginners playground dominating with the most simplest skill. Meanwhile, I-on the other hand was just on standby the whole time.
Everyone had settled, taking what little time they could to recover their stamina and mana, but something in the air was wrong. It was thick, almost suffocating, pressing down on my skin like unseen fingers. The silence wasn't relief—it was the kind that came before something worse.
I exhaled, my gaze locked on the bloodstained ground. Just moments ago, this place had been drenched in crimson. Now, the blood was disappearing, not soaking into the earth, not drying—just vanishing. Dissolving into nothingness, as if the battle itself had been a dream.
A cold weight settled in my stomach.
"…It can't be HIM."
I hadn't meant to say it aloud.
Beside me, Elizabeth turned her head sharply. "Did you say something?"
I forced a casual shrug. "No."
She narrowed her eyes slightly but didn't push, Maybe she wanted to believe she had misheard. Maybe she just didn't want to bother further. And I didn't correct her either. Whatever this feeling was, it wasn't over.
"Chàros," Eugene called as he approached me, keeping his voice low."Can you call Lily and Livia. I have something I'd like to share to everyone."
"I don't mind but?" I asked.
"It's important." He whispered.
I obeyed his request as he seemed so serious and called Lily and Livia. I wonder why he'd asked me despite him being closer to them, I could sense him whisper something to Elizabeth. The others comply without question as I mentioned that Eugene asked.
"I want you to listen carefully," He whispered. "I want everyone to let me know when you recovered."
Lily blinked. "Wait, what? Why?"
I lifted a finger to my lips, silencing her as if telling her to hear him out first.
"Sorry," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she covered her mouth, a warm blush creeping across her cheeks.
"It's alright. I'm asking just incase." Eugene said showing his sincere smile.
Elizabeth's brows furrowed. "You're acting like something's about to happen."
He met our gaze. "I can't say for sure but I believe it will, If this really is the same as what my brother and his team faced."
He said he's not sure yet he still used 'will' as if he's actually certain of it.
"If it's really the same situation then, the real challenge is about to start."
The unease spread between us like a ripple. They felt it too—maybe not as strongly, but enough for doubt to creep in.
"What do you mean by that?" Elizabeth asked.
"I don't know yet..." He thought.
My doubt was finally aligning into clarity.
If what Eugene said was reliable information, then we were in far deeper trouble than we assumed.
Especially because everything about this setup felt deliberately constructed—like someone was orchestrating it from behind the curtain.
Eugene exhaled quietly, but nodded.
"I understand how you guys feel… but trust me."
He suddenly grinned—unnatural given the tension, yet oddly grounding.
"Can you?"
A few hesitant nods answered him, slow and uncertain.
Livia tilted her head slightly, studying him.
"But… why tell only us?" Her soft voice lingered, almost echoing.
"I didn't tell only you guys, though." Eugene tilted his head in confusion.
"What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked, brows tightening.
"I'm sure I told everyone when we first encountered this incident—the only way out is to drain our Geist completely…" His voice faltered mid-sentence.
Something clicked inside him, and without warning, he rushed toward the exit.
"Hey, where are you going?" Elizabeth called out, immediately chasing after him.
The others remained distracted in their own conversations, not bothered enough to look up.
Their lack of awareness felt painfully loud.
Lily turned toward me. "What's wrong with him?" Without waiting, she gestured sharply. "Let's follow."
No objections were needed—Livia and I moved after them.
When we reached him, Eugene was standing before the stone passage, motionless.
"What's wrong, Eugene?" Lily pressed.
"…It can't be," he whispered, voice sinking into disbelief.
"How could I forget? None of us are completely worn out, yet the wolves stopped coming. That was never how the trial was designed to end. Which means—"
He raised his hand slowly toward the wall and froze mid-movement.
"As I thought." He muttered.
"What is it?" Lily stepped beside him.
Her fingertips brushed the stone—
and the surface rippled like disturbed water.
"This is… an illusion."
Unsurprisingly, it wasn't over—not even close.
Whoever held us captive was still toying with us, dangling a false escape like bait.
The loop hadn't stopped; only the wolves were removed from it.
If this wasn't a loop, then what was it?
Around us, the others remained relaxed, completely unaware of the air shifting around them.
But I felt it. Eugene did too. Lily, Livia—even their breathing sharpened.
The stillness pressing against us wasn't relief.
It was unnatural. Suffocating.
The kind of silence before a storm.
Before a predator strikes.
"We must let them know." Eugene suggested.
Then as he was about the shout...
"What's wrong?"
Across the place from us was Glenn's voice that drew the attention away, drawing all eyes to the fallen elf.
Elaris was trembling. Violently. Her body convulsing as if some invisible force had wrapped itself around her, squeezing the breath from her lungs. She had herself dropped to the floor.
"T-this… presence, it can't be..." she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. "He's coming…"
The words tumbled from her lips, over and over, each repetition more frantic, as if speaking them aloud would force reality to change.
"It's too late." Eugene said and went to check on Elaris. We followed behind.
Glenn lunged to her side, his hands gripping her shoulders. "O-oi, W-what are you talking about?" His voice was tight with urgency. "What's coming? Tell us! You're making me feel scared too." Afterall seeing someone as talented as Elaris trembling would cause anyone to panic.
"G-get..." Her lips quivered. She looked like she wanted to scream, to claw at the fear consuming her, but the words refused to come.
Glenn frowned. "Get? Get what? What do you—" His confusion mirrored Huston. Both of them were too thickheaded to grasp the obvious. Frustration and presence of seriousness flickered across Glenn's face, but then, instead of pressing her, he softened. He steadied her shoulders. "It's okay," he coaxed, voice gentler now. "Just breathe. Tell us slowly."
Elaris gulped. Her wide eyes darted wildly, and then—
She muttered.
"It's L-Lykaonios... He's coming"
"Lykaonios? Who's that?"
The words sliced through the air like a blade.
"He's a monster! He's c-coming! He'll kill us all!" She shouted."Run away! Everyone!"
For her to act like that, it could only mean one thing—she knew something we didn't. Something that weighed on her, pressing against her soul. This wasn't a mere act; it was reflexive, instinctive. A response carved deep by experience—one born of trauma.
A heavy silence followed, broken only by the ragged sound of her breath.
Glenn exhaled, then scoffed. "What? That's what's got you worked up?" He let out a chuckle, glancing around. "If it's just a demon, then there's nothing to worry about. We've got Vaelon and Ernst. Right, guys?"
Nods of agreement, confident smirks. No fear.
I stared at them. Were they deaf and blind? Or just dead inside? Because she felt that much fear despite everyone here to protect her.
I should be grateful it's not HIM.
But as I watched their unwavering confidence, I realized—they had misheard but she doesn't even bother correcting them. Or rather she doesn't even realise either.
"No," Elaris whispered, "you don't understand. He's not just a monster."
"What seems to be the problem here?"
Vaelon's voice cut through the murmurs, sharp and laced with irritation. He stirred from his resting spot, his piercing gaze locking onto Elaris.
"Uh—sorry," Glenn scratched the back of his head. "We didn't mean to interrupt your nap."
Vaelon ignored him, stepping forward. He crouched in front of Elaris, his tone unreadable. "Who is this demigod? Is he that strong?" A pause. "Are you sure we're not enough?"
She nodded.
A shadow flickered across Vaelon's face, gone as quickly as it appeared.
"Why is that so?" he asked, his voice measured but probing.
Elaris hesitated. She decided against speaking, choosing instead to keep her emotions in check. Silence was safer.
If Vaelon and Ernst together amounted to nothing—then what exactly were we dealing with?
"Hey, hey, how can you be so sure when you haven't even seen half of what they can do—" Huston's voice carried its usual excitement, proud and unbothered, but he was abruptly cut off.
Despite his close bond with Eugene, Glenn seemed to maintain his usual character. There was an air of maturity in his tone this time, subtle but undeniable. Eugene, on the other hand, was behaving differently—less reckless, more composed. It was as if he had become a completely different person.
"Lykaonios, huh," Ernst murmured at last. His usual calculative composure seeped through his words, though a faint shift in his tone suggested something more.
"You know something?" Vaelon pressed, his gaze narrowing.
Ernst nodded slowly. "More or less. Lykaonios… if I'm not mistaken, he's from a legend. A demigod—or rather, an avatar. The story goes that he was granted divine blessings from an unknown god after seeking godhood his entire life and eventually ascended to divinity himself. But according to the same legend, he was later rumored to have died after achieving his goal."
Vaelon's expression remained unreadable. "How long ago would that be?"
Ernst's brow furrowed as he thought, absently biting the tip of his thumb. "About a thousand years or so, I think." He sighed, reluctant. "I don't really want to do this…" he muttered.
Then, he turned to Elaris and sat down. "How old are you?"
"Seriously? That's what you're gonna ask now?" a girl spoke up, indignant. "And it's not polite to ask a woman her age!"
Ordinarily, asking someone's age wasn't a big deal. But for some reason, an unspoken rule deemed it improper when it came to women. No official consequence existed, but it was said that women would resent you for it.
"Silent," Ernst said sharply. "Can you at least tell me that? I won't bother you anymore."
"Scary," the girl mumbled, backing away.
Elaris hesitated before nodding slightly. "One thousand and eight years old." she murmured.
"So old," Huston whispered.
"Shut up! She's an elf," the girl beside him hissed, smacking him on the back.
"Hey-"
"As I thought," Ernst muttered, as though confirming a suspicion. "Thank you for telling me. You can rest easy."
Vaelon eyed him closely. "That face tells me you've figured something out."
"Seriously?" Glenn was both impressed and shocked.
Ernst didn't acknowledge them. Instead, he picked up where he had left off. "Just before he was rumored to have died, Lykaonios attacked a small island. He slaughtered and tortured its people for no reason other than his own twisted amusement. But to make things more interesting, he left one survivor—someone who would bear all the memories and pass on the tales. The god residing in the island woke up but it's already too late the people are already gone. In her fit of rage, the godess threw her might at the demigod unable to forgive herself and ever since Lykaonios was nowhere to be seen."
He glanced at Elaris briefly, then stopped himself. "Since this is a sensitive topic, I'll end the story here."
Ernst wasn't just asking out of curiosity. Ernst wanted to confirm something—his doubts about the incident, about whether it was truly just a legend or something more.
He suspected Elaris because of the way she reacted and it was not a knowledge once Normally have. It wasn't just hesitation; it was the way her voice faltered, the way her body tensed ever so slightly. That brief moment of silence spoke louder than words. And how well know she is with something's presence.
This wasn't just a story.She had lived it.And whatever had happened back then... it had left its mark on her.
Surprisingly, he was rather considerate.
Vaelon exhaled. "So, do you think he's still alive?"
According to his story, Elaris was shouldered with the burden of carrying such memories.
Lykaonios.
The name stirred something buried deep within history—a half-forgotten truth, shrouded in myth. If memory served, he was no mere legend but the god of wolves. A mortal once, granted divine power to command the beasts at his will with an exceptional skill.
And if that were truly the case… the relentless tide of wolves is just...
Am I overthinking it?
Ernst hesitated. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "But we've worn ourselves out fighting those shadow wolves and it'll be trouble some to face something like that."
Even if we're at our peaked status, I doubt it'll be any good.