The early morning hours crept by slowly as Glenn and Hera remained together in the comforting silence of the room.
Their conversation was soft, marked by brief pauses and glances that spoke louder than words. Glenn still couldn't speak clearly for long, but the questions came little by little, and Hera answered with patience and tenderness.
There was a special care in the way she told small stories to distract his mind. She spoke of the garden, about a potion that accidentally exploded in the lab, about how Aster almost knocked over an entire shelf trying to reach a jar of honey.
And as simple as they were, those words brought silent comfort, like an anchor keeping Glenn from drowning in the anxiety of the unknown.
Time passed, and the weight on his eyelids became impossible to resist. Glenn's eyes slowly closed, even as he fought against the sleep trying to claim him.
"You... will you be here... when I wake up?"
The question came weak, almost a whisper, laced with an unexpected vulnerability.
Hera smiled sweetly.
"Of course, young master. I'm here to take care of you... and I don't intend to abandon my mission."
Glenn let out a soft sigh, surrendering to exhaustion. His body relaxed on the mattress, and sleep wrapped around him once again.
**
Some time later, Hera quietly left the room. She walked through the corridors to the royal consort's pavilion. Upon entering, she was met by a familiar figure: Aster.
The tiefling was leaning against the window, watching the morning mist with her shimmering blue eyes, long blonde hair cascading like silk over her shoulders. She turned gracefully at her friend's arrival.
"So?"
Her voice was sweet, but anxious.
"How's the young master?"
Hera smiled, her eyes still shining with a joy she couldn't hide.
"He woke up. Finally. No visible side effects. He's weak, but stable."
Aster let out a sigh of relief, her body relaxing as if releasing a weight she had carried for days.
"Thank the heavens..."
She paused, hesitant.
"And Dália? Have you heard anything? Last time I saw her..."
Hera shook her head gently, this time more reserved.
"Only Lady Lesley has direct access to her condition. But unfortunately, she's away on a mission. Not even the doctors can disclose any details without her authorization."
Aster nodded in silence, her lips slightly parted in quiet concern.
"I see... Well, since he's going to need a lot of energy, I think I'll cook something delicious for when he wakes up. He'll need it, and well... it's the least I can do."
The sparkle returned to Aster's eyes, glowing with warm determination.
Hera smiled and stepped closer.
"Good idea. I'll come with you. The kitchen will appreciate the extra hands."
The two walked together, their light steps echoing through the stone corridors. In the castle's dim halls, between worry and relief, a new morning slowly approached.
**
Three days had passed since Glenn's awakening, and his condition had finally stabilized with impressive speed—at least, considering the severity of his injuries and exhaustion.
But any doctor with half a brain would know: it wasn't just the potions or treatments. The constant presence of Aster and Hera was the true miracle.
They made a point to be there whenever Glenn awoke, taking turns—or often sharing the same space, curled up in his arms like lazy cats, buried under the hospital sheets with the excuse of "monitoring the patient's body temperature."
At that moment, lying together in the room's soft dimness, it was Glenn who spoke. Hera's hair was tangled around his collarbone, while Aster used his shoulder as a pillow, her breasts pressing softly against his arm with casual ease.
"It was absurd," he said, his tone tired and almost disbelieving, "I've never heard of a dungeon that throws you straight into the gates of hell without even a proper 'hello'."
Hera pouted slightly and looked up.
"You're saying you were dropped right in front of the first challenge?"
"Yeah," Glenn sighed. "We fell straight into a swamp at the base of the first mountain… and before we could even set up a position or understand the terrain, it all collapsed on us. Hundreds of monsters, and a monstrous centipede. That thing wasn't natural."
Aster shifted slightly on the mattress, hugging herself closer to Glenn's body.
"Where I'm from, that's called a death trap."
Glenn let out a weak, but genuine laugh.
"It was because of that centipede that we survived... ironic, I know. While it was chasing us, it accidentally invaded the territory of the second guardian. A grasshopper with blade-arms. The two clashed so violently they started trying to kill each other on the spot."
Hera looked at him, incredulous.
"You're telling me two mountain guardians fought each other... by accident?"
Glenn nodded.
"We were hiding, recovering in a ruin, when both of them crashed down on us. A fight broke out between them, and it gave us the opportunity to barely take them down."
"That's insane..." Aster murmured, before adding in a thoughtful tone:
"But maybe... maybe it wasn't supposed to be that way. If you had started from the dungeon's actual entrance, maybe the structure would've made more sense. The intention of the trials, the logic behind the challenges... all of it would've been clearer before it turned critical."
Glenn stared at the ceiling in silence for a few seconds.
"Maybe. But the way it threw us in... I don't know if there was any intention. It felt more like we were dropped into some damaged ruin, or a broken dungeon. Like it was unstable from the start."
He kept speaking, his voice hoarse and shaky between breaths, still held by the two presences who, despite their comfort, couldn't stop each memory from slicing through him like a blade.
"But you know..." he said, eyes distant, fixed on the ceiling, "from the very beginning, that dungeon felt... wrong. Like it was designed to fail. Something unstable, unbalanced. Like everything in there was on the verge of breaking apart at any moment."
At that moment, a small detail slipped past him—but not the stars reflected in his eyes from the ceiling. Hera, once relaxed and snuggled up, froze for a brief instant. The golden glow in her eyes flickered, and a nearly invisible tension crawled up her neck to her jaw. She took a slow breath, adjusting herself gently against Glenn's chest.
But Glenn didn't notice.
He continued, lost in the memories:
"The first mountain was that demonic centipede with a serpent for a tongue. That was just the beginning. The second had a gigantic grasshopper with blade-arms… and the third, two of them. Then the fourth—three at once. It was like each mountain increased the complexity… or worse, like it repeated the trauma with even greater intensity."
Aster listened with wide eyes and parted lips. Hera remained silent, pretending to keep her breathing steady.
"The fifth..." Glenn frowned. "There was a lake... acidic. The smell was horrifying and could melt anything that got near. And in the middle of the lake, a monstrous alligator. Bigger than our pavilion. But its heart... was inside the lake. It was a suicide test. And the longer we stayed, the more the lake boiled, as if feeding off our despair."
He paused. His hand gripped the sheet reflexively.
"And the sixth..." His voice dropped. "A dimensional serpent. It was sly, cowardly, relied on numbers, and spat purple lightning from afar. And on the ground… there were hundreds of thousands of smaller snakes. Black. Fanged. And they all teleported. If even one bit you… then all the guardian's attacks would hit you—dodging didn't matter."
The two maids now sat in absolute silence. Aster swallowed hard. Hera kept her eyes closed, just listening.
"And finally," Glenn whispered, "the dungeon boss. That... that thing wasn't natural. It was a chimera... with a centipede's body. It had twenty eyes, two jaws, six obsidian-bladed legs, and a stinger that looked like it could pierce your soul. Multiple horns... and a gaze that followed me even when I blinked."
He paused.
"I still can't believe I made it out alive."
Silence swallowed the room for long seconds, as if the words carried weight of their own. Hera gently ran her fingers across his sweaty forehead, brushing a strand of hair away.
"But you did," she murmured, her voice soft, almost melancholic. "And that's all that matters now."
Glenn closed his eyes for a moment, exhausted from the memory.
"Maybe… but there's something about that dungeon. Something I still don't understand."
Aster gently squeezed his hand.
"You'll understand. You just need time."
Hera said nothing.
But inside... she already knew.
And that was exactly what troubled her.