The sudden shift made Jeanne's lilac eyes narrow, her whole expression hardening.
"There's… a lot of them," she muttered, sliding into a battle stance. Her gauntleted fingers tightened around her spear as she angled it toward the floor. "Lucas—keep formation! Don't drift too far from me! Once combat starts, cover me with fire support!"
"Got it!" Lucas snapped back.
It was their first real fight as a team, but they'd already drilled their coordination plenty on the surface. Even if something went wrong, they'd adjust on the fly. And this swarm of Killer Ants? Perfect test run.
His eyes shimmered faintly with magic light as he focused his magic, thoughts racing.
"Thirty… maybe forty of them. If I were solo, I'd be out of here before the first antenna twitched. Hesitating even a second would just be suicide."
"But with Jeanne tanking the front line? That's different. A stationary mage with room to cast—instant-cast, at that? Oh man… this is gonna be fun."
His grin spread until his cheeks hurt.
"Let's go!"
Jeanne lunged first.
BOOM!
Her silver-plated boots slammed into the ground, sending her flying forward like a fired arrow. The flag-spear whipped up in her hands, slicing through the air as she dove headfirst into the writhing tide of monsters.
Steel rang against chitin—clang, clang, clang!—the hall echoing with a symphony of metal on claw.
The force behind each strike was immense. Jeanne blocked a flurry of hooked limbs, her arms trembling slightly under the pressure. "Their strength…!" she hissed through her teeth.
Then her eyes flashed. Her whole body seemed to surge with power. With one sharp shout, she flung the ants pressing against her like they weighed nothing.
For someone whose forte wasn't even Strength, the feat was absurd.
"Wait—was that—"
[Ruler], activated.
Lucas winced from behind her. Yeah, definitely not pissing her off anytime soon.
The last thing he wanted was to end up on the wrong side of that Skill set.
"Scorch!"
He raised the Scholar's Staff, chanting in perfect sync with her movements—instant-cast, zero lag.
A flash of crimson ignited from the staff's tip—then erupted into an inferno.
FWOOM!
Fire engulfed the Killer Ants on the flank, their screeches splitting the air.
The swarm writhed in agony, bodies curling and blackening before collapsing in seconds.
"One-point-five seconds to kill… perfect." Lucas's grin widened. "Damn, this staff's worth every Valis."
The runes along its shaft pulsed with golden light, each flicker feeding his excitement.
"Focus!" Jeanne shouted, skewering an ant that tried to flank him. "You've got a few breaking through!"
"Oh, I see them," Lucas said, his smirk sharp. "Don't worry about me."
They were already rushing him—mindless, but guided by instinct. They recognized the real threat: the mage.
Dozens of crimson eyes locked on him. The ground vibrated under their charge.
Lucas didn't flinch. His voice was calm, almost serene.
"A true mage's lesson—keep your cool, even at death's door."
"Scorch."
"Scorch."
"Scorch."
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
Each blast of flame painted the tunnel orange. His staff blazed in his grip as every rune along its length glowed bright, marking each new explosion with another burning crater.
The stench of charred insect flesh filled the air.
"Scorch!"
Lucas shifted his footing, circling Jeanne like a satellite—kiting the swarm, controlling the flow. His staff became a living flamethrower, turning each corner of the chamber into a miniature inferno.
But then—a sharp screech from the shadows. A fresh wave of Killer Ants burst out from the opposite tunnel, cutting off his retreat.
Front and back. Perfect pincer.
The glint of hooked claws flashed inches from his face—
And he vaulted sideways, planting a foot, pivoting sharply toward Jeanne.
"Jeanne!"
"Understood!"
She knocked her attackers back, raised her flag high, and slammed it into the ground. The crest of the Lucas Familia gleamed proudly across the fabric.
The air trembled.
Jeanne's voice rang through the chaos—clear, fierce, unyielding.
"O' Flag, protect my people!"
"Luminosité Éternelle!"
Light exploded outward like a sunrise. A radiant barrier enveloped them both, golden and absolute.
The charging swarm crashed against it—and shattered like waves against rock.
Screeches. Impacts. Claws sparking uselessly against divine light.
Lucas's eyes gleamed blue in the glow. "My turn."
He planted his feet, drew in a deep breath—then unleashed.
"Scorch. Scorch. Scorch. Scorch. Scorch!"
BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM!
"Scorch. Scorch. Scorch!"
BOOM!
"Ha—HAHAHAHA!"
"This—this is what fighting's supposed to feel like! Pure damage, baby! PURE. DAMAGE!"
His laughter echoed wildly through the chamber. The hood slipped from his head; he tore off his mask, grinning like a madman as fire roared around him.
Each blast bloomed like fireworks in the dark, until the swarm itself became fuel for the inferno.
Jeanne just blinked, watching his manic artistry. She sighed quietly, tightening her grip on the flag. "Boys."
Still, she held the barrier steady, silently supporting him.
Minutes passed.
When the fire finally died down, the room was scorched black, the air thick with smoke and the reek of burnt chitin.
Lucas stood among the ashes, panting, but beaming. "God, that was beautiful. A no-brain DPS burn fest. Glorious!"
Jeanne gave him a look, somewhere between fond and exasperated. "You call that a fight? That was one-sided slaughter."
Lucas gulped water from his pouch, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and grinned. "What, feeling guilty now? Don't tell me the Holy Maiden's gone soft."
She didn't answer—just bowed her head and murmured a quiet prayer. "It was necessary. The Lord will understand."
Her words had barely left her lips when Lucas stepped forward, smirking. He peeled off one glove and lifted her chin with a finger. Their eyes met—gold and violet—just inches apart.
Jeanne froze, stunned.
"Your 'Lord,' huh?" he murmured, voice low and rough. "Hate to break it to you, Jeanne, but down here… your master's me."
Her breath caught.
By the time she realized how close he was, her cheeks had gone crimson. "Wh-what are you doing—this is the Dungeon! Someone could—!"
He only chuckled, thumb brushing her cheek, slow and deliberate. Her skin was smooth, impossibly soft under his touch—almost unreal.
He traced her face as if memorizing it, watching her flush deepen until her knees went weak and she stumbled against him. Only then did he let go.
"Y-you—stop that!" she stammered, voice shaking.
Lucas tilted his head, grin sharp. "Didn't expect that, huh? Gotta say, Jeanne—you hide a lot under those robes."
"Go die!"
Her face blazing, Jeanne smacked his chest with a flurry of light punches—utterly ineffective, more kitten paw than warrior strike.
Lucas just laughed.
The Dungeon, for once, stayed quiet—its monsters wisely deciding not to interrupt whatever the hell that was.