Glenn's group entered the corridor with steady steps.
Not rushed. Not hesitant.
The stone gate behind them closed with a heavy sound that echoed briefly, then vanished, swallowed by the thick walls of the processing corridor. In the past, that sound had always felt like an announcement. A confirmation that they had entered a place where regret had no space.
Today, it did not.
Glenn merely adjusted the position of his sword at his waist. His movement was calm. Measured. His gaze stayed fixed ahead, unaffected by the echo of stone or the lingering tension that usually followed the closing door.
The first corridor stretched out before them.
And almost instantly, they knew.
This was different.
The monsters were already there.
Not wandering aimlessly as before. Not scattered in the corners of the corridor, fighting over territory. There were no wild movements. No threatening sounds.
They were lined up.
Neatly.
Too neatly to be a coincidence.
The large bodies filled the corridor from wall to wall. The taller ones stood in front, forming a protective layer. The smaller ones filled the gaps between them. The distance between bodies left almost no empty space. Their breathing was soft and regular, not the roar of hunger, but a uniform exhale, like a single massive creature waiting for a signal.
Dilos stopped walking.
He did not raise his sword.
He simply stood there.
"Formation," muttered one of Glenn's group members, his voice low.
Glenn nodded slightly.
"Yes," he said. "And they're not moving."
Their gazes shifted to the back of the monster ranks.
And there they saw it.
The small creature.
It stood on higher ground, atop a mound of old bones that had dried and fused with the corridor floor. Human bones. Monster bones. Indistinguishable. All merged into a dull white base, slick with the remnants of old blood.
Its body was the same as they remembered. Shorter. Thinner. Too fragile to stand among a horde like this.
But something had changed.
Its head was no longer tilted.
It stood upright.
Its eyes stared straight ahead.
At them.
At Dilos.
One of Glenn's group drew a quiet breath.
"That's the one that escaped," he said. "The one that vanished into the darkness after we brought down the bear monster."
"He didn't escape," Glenn replied without looking away. "He withdrew."
Dilos felt something tremble inside his chest.
Not fear.
Not anger.
Resonance.
The Core within his body reacted. Not with wild surges, but with heavy internal pressure. As if two existences were measuring each other. One rough and untamed, born of raw power. The other small, sharp, and honed by long observation.
The monsters did not attack.
They waited.
Glenn raised his hand.
His group stopped at the edge of the torchlight. A thin line between light and darkness split the distance between them and the monster horde.
"The situation is different," Glenn said. "And this isn't happening by chance."
He looked at Dilos.
"We didn't get this far because of luck."
Dilos nodded.
He stepped forward.
One step.
Then another.
Normally, that would have been enough to trigger a reckless charge. Normally, one monster would lose patience, break formation, and die first.
Today, no.
The small creature raised one hand.
The motion was brief. Almost lazy. Like someone giving a signal without needing to check whether it would be obeyed.
And the monster horde moved.
Not charging.
They closed the distance with uniform steps. Orderly. Like a single massive body shifting forward. None broke formation. None moved ahead. None hesitated.
"Old formation," Glenn said. "But stay alert."
They moved.
This time, Glenn's group attacked first.
Dilos was at the front.
His body shot forward without hesitation, without a shout, without a change in breathing. The first monster swung its claw toward his chest.
The attack landed.
Directly.
Not blocked.
Not avoided.
The claw struck Dilos's chest with force that should have torn flesh and shattered ribs.
Dilos did not step back.
His body only shifted slightly, his feet scraping against the stone floor.
The impact sounded dull.
Like stone hitting hardwood.
His skin did not tear.
There was no blood.
The monster jolted, not from injury, but from the fact that its attack had accomplished nothing.
Dilos countered.
He did not swing his sword with full strength.
There was no need.
A normal slash.
The blade passed through.
The monster's body split in two.
Not a rough tear like before. The cut was clean. Too clean. As if flesh and bone offered no resistance at all.
The body fell apart to opposite sides before it could even understand that it was dead.
A fraction of a second of silence wrapped the corridor.
Then another monster attacked.
Two from the left. One from the right.
Dilos stepped forward again.
A barrage of attacks crashed into his body. Claws struck his shoulder. A bite slammed into his arm. A massive body rammed his side with full force.
Dilos remained standing.
His skin reddened. Bruises appeared. But there were no open wounds. No broken bones.
He was like a walking wall.
Each swing of his sword brought down one monster.
One slash.
One death.
No extra effort. No wasted motion. No victorious shout.
Glenn and the others moved behind him with almost cold efficiency. They did not need to clear a path. They did not need to force their way through.
Dilos had already opened everything.
The monsters began to retreat.
Not because they were ordered to.
Because of instinct.
The small creature moved its hand again.
Short sounds spilled from its mouth. Faster now. Tighter. Like metal tapping against metal.
The formation changed.
The monsters attacked from both sides at once. Pressing Dilos from the front, while others tried to break through toward Glenn and the rest.
It was useless.
Dilos stomped the floor hard.
A single impact.
The attacking monsters staggered. Their balance shattered.
Dilos moved.
A horizontal slash.
Two bodies split at the same time.
The small creature stared without blinking.
Its head no longer tilted.
Its eyes narrowed.
It was thinking.
It changed tactics.
Smaller monsters were sent first. Not to kill. To disrupt. To bind movement.
The larger monsters were held back.
Normally, that worked.
Today, the smaller monsters died faster.
Dilos's sword did not even slow.
He was like the bear monster they had once fought.
He was worse.
That bear monster could still be wounded.
Dilos could not.
Glenn realized it.
They all did.
The monster formation collapsed.
Not because it fell into chaos.
But because it no longer mattered.
The small creature kept issuing commands.
Its tone changed. Faster. Sharper.
It tried everything.
Side attacks.
Layered attacks.
Continuous assaults.
All failed.
One variable destroyed every calculation.
Dilos.
Thirty minutes passed.
More than a hundred monsters lay dead.
The first corridor had changed.
Bodies lay everywhere. Severed arms, heads, and legs scattered across the stone floor, now slick with blood. The smell of iron filled the air, heavy and biting.
Glenn's group was still standing.
Their breathing was steady.
Their faces focused.
They had not even fought aggressively yet.
And they were getting closer.
The small creature stepped back once.
Its eyes remained sharp.
But behind them was something new.
Not fear.
Threat.
Recalculation.
It searched for another way.
And Glenn noticed.
"He's smart," Glenn said quickly.
One of them grinned faintly.
"That means there's a good chance he has a Core."
Dilos tightened his grip on his sword.
"I'm sure he does," he said.
They moved faster.
The small creature saw them charge.
It retreated farther back and raised both hands.
The larger monsters immediately moved, surrounding it, forming the final protective layer.
Then it gave the command.
The monster horde surged.
Not ten.
Not twenty.
Fifty. Maybe a hundred.
They charged together.
The corridor shook under their steps.
And Glenn's group met them.
The attack came like a collapsing wave.
Not from one direction.
Not in stages.
The entire first corridor seemed to come alive.
From the darkness ahead, from gaps at the sides, from behind piles of still warm corpses, monsters moved in unison. There was no pause. No long signal. As if a single decision had been made, and every body obeyed without hesitation.
The small creature stood behind the ranks.
Its voice rose.
No longer short. No longer broken.
Now it screamed.
A high pitch, piercing, chaotic to human ears. But the monster horde understood it. Their massive bodies responded like muscles pulled by reflex.
Fifty.
Sixty.
The number was hard to count.
They charged.
Glenn immediately raised his sword.
"Tight formation," he said. "Do not break."
There was no time to hesitate.
Dilos stepped forward.
His steps slammed against the stone floor with a heavy sound. The pooled blood splashed around him. The metallic stench grew thicker, mixed with the reek of exposed entrails.
The first monster crashed into him.
A massive body. Long fangs. Its weight exceeded that of two grown adults.
Dilos did not evade.
The impact sounded like wood striking stone.
The monster came to a dead stop.
Dilos's arm moved.
A single swing.
The monster's head was severed and rolled across the floor, stopping right at Glenn's feet.
The second and third monsters followed.
Claws struck. Jaws snapped shut. Huge bodies pressed in from the front and the sides.
Dilos stood at the center.
He became the axis.
Every attack was drawn toward him.
And that created space.
Glenn moved.
His sword swept from left to right, severing the legs of a monster trying to circle around Dilos. Another thrust slipped through a narrow opening, straight into a throat. Another moved swiftly, stopping a monster that broke through by cutting off both of its arms.
They did not fight with emotion.
They fought calmly.
Every step had a purpose.
Every slash reduced the pressure.
Monsters fell, yet their numbers did not seem to diminish. Those that died were replaced by new ones. Those that fell were trampled by the bodies behind them.
The corridor changed.
Once gray stone.
Now dark red.
The floor was slick with blood. Body parts piled up in the corners. Heads without bodies, bodies without heads, hands still gripping weapons.
Dilos kept moving.
His skin was now covered in impact marks. Deep purple bruises bloomed across his arms and shoulders. His breathing grew heavier, but its rhythm remained steady.
He endured.
He endured everything.
The large monsters were directed at him. The smaller ones tried to slip through to the rear, but Glenn and the others cut them down before they could get close.
The small creature retreated.
One step.
Then another.
Its eyes were no longer calm.
It watched.
It calculated.
It realized one thing it could not change.
As long as the being called Dilos stood at the front, all of its tactics collapsed.
Its voice changed again.
High pitched.
Pressed.
The large monsters moved backward, forming a circle. They did not attack. They protected.
The small creature now stood at the center.
Glenn saw it.
"It's retreating," he said. "Not fleeing."
Dilos stopped advancing.
He stared at the small creature.
The core within his body vibrated more violently.
The resonance was now unmistakable.
No longer a suspicion.
It was a call.
"Primary target," he said shortly.
No one objected.
Their resolve shifted.
Not excitement.
Not greed.
Focus.
The small creature screamed again.
The large monsters closed in, forming a living wall.
Dilos advanced.
He struck.
Massive bodies were thrown aside. The sound of bones breaking rang clearly. The guarding monsters fell one by one. Glenn and the others followed behind, exploiting the gaps Dilos forced open.
The battle became one sided.
But exhausting.
Every step forward was paid for with strength. Breaths burned hot in their chests. Muscles stayed tense longer than usual.
Monster corpses continued to pile up.
At last, only a few remained.
The small creature was now clearly visible.
Smaller than they had imagined. Thin. Its skin a pale grayish hue. Its black eyes were large, far too large for its face.
It stared at them.
And screamed.
That scream was not a command.
It was a call.
From deeper within the corridor, the sound of footsteps echoed.
Not walking.
Running.
Many.
Growing closer by the second.
Dilos and Glenn looked at each other.
There was no discussion.
They charged.
The small creature turned and ran.
Its movements were nimble. Its small body darted through narrow gaps. It did not slip, even though the floor was slick with blood.
Glenn's group pursued.
More aggressively than before.
They knew.
Their time was nearly up.
Glenn's attack swept in from the side.
The small creature leapt.
Dilos's strike smashed into the floor.
It dodged again.
Smart.
Too smart.
Glenn changed direction.
He did not chase.
He cut off the path.
The small creature did not notice.
A fraction of a second.
Glenn's sword flashed.
The creature's right arm was severed.
Its scream pierced the air.
Not the sound of an ordinary monster.
It was a scream of rage.
A scream of hatred.
The footsteps behind them grew faster.
Dilos saw shadows moving at the far end of the corridor.
Too many.
"Fall back!" he shouted. "Now!"
Glenn swung his sword toward the small creature's head.
Too late.
A massive body slammed in from the side.
Glenn was thrown backward, crashing hard into the stone wall.
The small creature staggered, then ran again, vanishing into the darkness.
New monsters flooded the corridor.
Dozens of them.
Perhaps hundreds.
Glenn's group retreated.
Forced.
Pressed.
They held their ground while moving backward, fending off the final assault before the gate opened.
When they finally emerged, their breathing was heavy.
Their bodies were soaked in blood.
Not all of it their own.
One member kicked a small stone in frustration.
"Damn it… just a little bit more," he said. "Just a little bit more and we would have gotten the core."
Clive's group stood on the other side.
They watched.
They said nothing.
Their gazes followed Glenn and Dilos as they walked past.
Inside the corridor, beyond the darkness, the small creature stopped.
It clutched its severed arm.
It turned its head back, as if it could see Glenn's group.
Its eyes were sharp and cold.