"You broke it?" Renault's voice cut sharp, a mix of disbelief and something uglier. "Noel, that was the last potion. The last one. What the hell were you thinking?"
"I—I didn't mean to—"
"Not good enough!" Renault barked, eyes wide now, voice rising. "You think meaning well counts down here? On this floor?"
Noel stepped back without realizing. His hand was still trembling from holding the shattered glass. The shards clinked together like teeth.
"I was trying to help. I slung a rock at the Warshadow coming for you and—"
"And what? What? You forgot the potion was in the same pouch you're yanking stones from? You've got to be kidding me."
"It was an accident. I swear," Noel said. His voice was quieter now, the kind you use when you know you're not being believed.
Renault looked away, jaw clenched. His whole back ached like fire, his skin torn raw, and every second they argued was another second closer to death. But somehow, this felt more dangerous than the monsters.
"You just started out. I get that," Renault muttered. "But gods, kid. This isn't something you get a do-over on."
Noel didn't answer right away. Just stared at the bandages around Renault's torso, his hands smeared with dried blood. His own fingers still tingled from the tension of wrapping them.
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah," Renault exhaled, like the word itself hurt. "I bet you are."
More silence enveloped them.
"You should go ahead. If you think you're still light on your feet. I'll catch up. I doubt I will die if I just run for it." He said it flat, like the outcome didn't matter much anymore.
Noel shook his head. "I'm not leaving you."
Renault let out a bitter laugh that sounded more like a cough. "What, out of guilt?"
"I didn't break it on purpose. But if you need someone to blame, then sure, blame me." There was a pause. "I'm not going to argue anymore."
Renault looked at him, really looked this time. Noel wasn't just scared, his eyes were now full of a conviction. But of what, Renault couldn't tell.
Taking a long breath. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, then let his hand fall.
"Alright. Five more minutes. Then we move. Slowly. You watch my back."
Noel nodded.
Neither of them smiled.
Renault leaned against the wall again, shutting his eyes for just a moment. Just to rest. He didn't see the way Noel's hand brushed past his belt pouch again, fingers grazing a certain magic stone.
They didn't speak after that.
Just sat in the dark, the air thick with sweat and iron and silent blame stewed with a desire to live.
Renault's breathing was even, finely controlled. Every inhale dragged across raw nerves, every exhale a shudder he tried to mask. His back stuck to the wall, damp with blood and something else he didn't want to think about. The bleeding had slowed, at least. Skin knitting at a sluggish crawl. Being a high-tier Level One meant his body still fought for him, even if he didn't have a potion left to speed things along.
Noel sat a few feet away, back to a jagged outcrop. He'd wrapped his sling around one hand, like he didn't know what to do with it anymore. Maybe he didn't.
A drop of water fell from the ceiling, splashing onto the stone between them. The sound echoed. One, two, three times. Then silence again.
Renault didn't open his eyes. "Five minutes. That's all I need."
Noel didn't answer.
He glanced at the broken flask again—still sitting there like a corpse in the room. Bits of green clung to the shards, drying into nothing. A waste. A convenient excuse.
His gaze drifted to Renault's silhouette, rising and falling with shallow breaths. The outline of someone strong. Stubborn. Slowing down.
Renault shifted. His voice came out rough. "You think we're making it out?"
Noel's fingers twitched. "If we're smart."
Renault chuckled dryly. "Smart doesn't mean much in this place. You just have to be lucky." A beat passed. "And you? You feel lucky?"
Noel tilted his head. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"I've never been lucky."
Another pause.
"Well," Renault muttered, "at least you're honest."
He cracked one eye open and glanced at his bandages. Still a little red. Still damp. But the worst of the bleeding had stopped. The pain had dulled too, replaced with a kind of numb exhaustion. He pushed himself upright with a groan.
"Alright. I can walk."
He didn't wait for Noel's reaction. Just started limping forward, hand on the wall to guide him.
Noel stayed seated for another few seconds.
Then stood.
Quietly.
His shadow trailed behind Renault's.
And his fingers brushed his heart.
/\/\/\/\/\//\/\/\//\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
The climb down was slower than it should've been.
The tunnel connecting the sixth and fifth floor wasn't anything special—just a sloping drop carved from ancient stone, the path tight and winding, with stalagmites clawing up from the ground like warning signs. No monsters in the descent. No ambush. Just darkness, and the dull echo of boots dragging across grit.
Renault walked ahead.
He always insisted on taking point. Pride, habit, or maybe just a need to prove he was still good for something. His limp was subtle now—masked. He didn't let himself hunch, but Noel saw the tremors in his shoulders, the slight twitch in his fingertips every time he gripped the wall for balance.
His breath wasn't as heavy as before, but it was still off. Still drawlled.
Noel followed a few steps behind, letting his gaze drift from the back of Renault's head to the walls around them, then to the floor. Bits of dried blood trailed behind like breadcrumbs. His own fingers played idly along the strap of his sling, not out of tension, not anymore—it was habit now. A rhythm to keep his mind calm. Or sharp. Or maybe just something to distract him.
They reached the threshold to the fifth floor without a word.
As they stepped into the cavern, the world widened again.
Stalactites clung high above like the teeth of some yawning beast. Thin patches of light bled through glowing moss on the ceiling, painting the stone in muted greens and blues. Pools of water shimmered underfoot, disturbed only by their reflection. It should've been beautiful.
But the silence made it all feel like a grave.
The silence was disturbed by Noel dropping something,
Renault eyebrow twitched, His lips pursed.
He sighed, allowing any irritation to leave and continued pushing forwards.
They couldn't even continue for another 30 seconds before his body was giving up on him.
Renault finally stopped in the middle of the cavern. There was a half-broken pillar nearby—something left over from the gods know what, long before the dungeon was a playground for adventurers. He slumped beside it and let himself slide to the ground.
Not collapsed. Not yet. But close.
He grunted as he adjusted the sword at his side, fingers gingerly brushing the side of his bandaged ribs. "Five minutes," he said again, like a joke that only he could hear. "Maybe ten."
Noel didn't respond.
He took a seat across from him, on a flat slab of rock. Legs crossed. Hands on his knees. He studied the cavern entrance, as if keeping watch, but his eyes kept flicking back to the person in front of him.
Renault leaned back against the pillar and stared at the ceiling.
"It's quieter here," he murmured. "Monsters don't usually nest close to the exit. Should buy us time to breathe."
Noel just gave a short nod.
Time. That's all Renault wanted.
But Noel... he'd already made up his mind.
"I can get us out." Noel declared.
Renault didn't have the strength to laugh; he only nodded slightly. What else could he do?
"I'm serious."
Noel rose to his feet, eyes still closed. Renault watched, unsure whether he was staring or glaring.
"Cradle of nails, sealed in silence."
A faint pulse radiated from Noel's mind, steady and unyielding.
"Pale fang, drink the saint's marrow."
Renault felt a strange weight settle in the air, as if the dungeon itself held its breath.
"Vein of silver rot—coil, twist, return."
His gaze fixed on Noel's face, calm and distant.
"Skinless throne accepts the pact."
Noel's voice was quiet but sure—words heavy with purpose.
"Crown of splinters, press upon the crown."
Renault's muscles tensed involuntarily, waiting, watching.
"Shackled wing, tremble beneath the weight."
The silence stretched between them, thick and expectant.
"Scarred root, pulse once more in foreign soil."
Noel's lips barely moved now, each phrase like a step closer to something unseen.
"Halved moon watches, its eye ever shut."
Renault's breath caught.
"Folded star, unfold and weep."
A sudden stillness filled the space—waiting, always waiting.
"In death's ash—renew."
Noel's final word hung in the air.
"Come true, Gaios."
It was complete.
The thick mind bellowing around Noel vanished.
"Let's just keep going."
That's all Noel said.
No explanation. No glance back.
Like it was just another hunt, just another day.
Renault stared at him for a beat too long, waiting for... something. An apology, a joke, a flicker of guilt. Nothing came.
He gave a dry laugh under his breath and rolled his shoulders. "Sure," he muttered, voice flat.
He didn't believe it, but he walked anyway.
The ache in his limbs was dull now. Faded to background noise. Just enough to remind him he was still standing.
One step. Then another.
He let the rhythm carry him. Forward. Focused on the crunch of gravel underfoot, the stale stink of the dungeon air, the pull of each breath through bruised ribs.
Then—
Snap.
A blur to the side. His instincts kicked in.
He twisted his neck hard, just in time to dodge the whip of a Frogshooter's tongue. It cracked the air past his ear like a whip.
"Shit—"
But his balance was off. His torso dipped sideways. His body didn't follow like it should've. It felt... wrong. Heavy on one side. Tilted.
Like something had just—
Then he felt it.
A sharp pressure against his back. Not a stab. Not a full thrust. Just... a press. A blade sliding slow beneath his shoulder blade. Slipping past bruised flesh. Quiet. Careful.
Cold metal tapped something inside him that shouldn't be touched. He felt the breath in his chest hiccup. Sharp. Incomplete.
Not deep enough to kill.
Just enough to break something.
His eyes didn't widen. They just stilled.
He didn't fall. Not yet. But he didn't move forward either.
Noel was behind him.
Close enough to hear his heartbeat.
No words. No sounds.
Just that thin, shaking breath struggling to fill his lungs. Just the dull pressure of steel still resting inside him.
And Renault realized—
It didn't matter if he dodged the tongue, he wouldn't walk away uninjured.
Noel made sure he couldn't.
--------------
betrayal?????
reason revealed in [chapter six: Heroes can't live]