The resolve to move forward takes a huge leap for someone with Benny's character traits. Not only would he have to fight his internal voices, but he'd also have to overcome his trembling body. Currently, that was exactly what was happening to him. He knew deep inside that staying hidden in the sanctuary wouldn't get him anywhere.
But where exactly would he go? Down? Impossible. They'd reached the 20th floor and almost got killed there. He didn't even know how deep this labyrinth went or if there was an end to it at all.
As for sanctuaries, the only one he knew was the one he was currently occupying. And it was by sheer fucking luck that he'd managed to find it. To sum it up, sanctuaries on the other floors weren't easily accessible to any explorer or adventurer.
But why was that? Why was everything so hard in this labyrinth? It felt unconquerable. Even the hardest conquered labyrinths weren't as fucked up as this one. The most difficult one—the Labyrinth of the Demon Barabaras—was insanely brutal, but the sanctuaries were easily found and usually located near the entrance.
But here? No fucking way. They were hidden. So what the hell was this place they'd stumbled upon, and why did it even exist in the first place?
If he thought about it, this seemed to be an ancient ruin of a civilization that had long been forgotten. How did he know that? The wooden debris he'd used for fuel wasn't from this era. It was well-made and hadn't rotted even after what must have been thousands of years. It burned for quite a while, considering he'd only used a few pieces to smoke the rat meat.
There were also inscriptions in an ancient language inside this sanctuary. It wasn't obvious at first, but as boredom settled in and he was no longer in survival mode, he'd begun looking more closely around the sanctuary. The written language was too alien for Benny to read. Hell, he didn't even have a formal education. He could only read because of that wandering scholar who'd taught him to write his name and recognize basic words.
With that in mind, he resolved to set himself a goal. And he'd question whether that goal would be beneficial or just get him killed. He wouldn't take any unnecessary risks. He'd survived long enough that he wasn't about to throw it all away. Nope, and his character wouldn't allow him to do that anyway. Only when the rewards outweighed the risks would he take such chances.
It had been that way since the beginning, so he wouldn't change a damn thing.
With that decided, Benny prepared himself for a first-floor adventure. First, though, he'd need additional armor. His tattered gear was on its last legs.
So he had to improvise with the rat's bones, even though it would limit his already limited weapon options. A weapon without a functioning body was just as useless as he was. Prioritizing his safety over attack power was always the smart choice.
The armor wasn't perfect, since he had limited materials to work with. He also had to rip up his tattered clothing to use as binding material for the new gear.
He had to place the rat bones in areas that would keep him alive. Limbs first, then he'd work on defending his vital organs.
After spending significant time tinkering and fitting his makeshift armor, he was finally satisfied with it. He could move freely, and it was light enough that it wouldn't drain his stamina over time. It also stayed put after he'd repeatedly tested the bindings to make sure nothing would fall off while running.
He'd discovered that problem in his first attempts—the damn thing fell off after a few dashes and jumps. He'd learned along the way, and he wasn't in a rush anyway, so he had all the time in the world.
The only weapon he kept from the rat's bones was one with a bulge that he'd sharpened on the thin end so he could use it for stabbing.
He also had the pickaxe with him as a last resort. This time he'd bring the potions too. He wouldn't make the mistake of leaving them behind again. After that dream—or was it reality?—of being shredded by bugs, he'd learned his lesson. Although he still debated whether it had actually happened, it didn't matter now. One thing he'd cling to from that experience was the information about those creatures' weaknesses, in case he encountered them again.
Checking his gear one last time, it was finally time to move. He knew he'd return here, so he left behind things he didn't immediately need. In that dream or whatever it was, he'd gotten complacent. He wouldn't make that same mistake again.
It was time for him to finally venture out and discover what this first floor was hiding.
He stood at the sanctuary entrance, his newly crafted armor feeling strange but reassuring against his skin. His hands shook slightly as he gripped his makeshift spear, but his breathing was steady. The fear was still there—it always would be—but so was something else now. Determination, maybe. Or just the stubborn refusal to stay trapped forever.
"Alright, you bastards," he muttered to whatever was waiting out there in the darkness. "Let's see what you've got."
The light from his crystals pushed back the shadows as he took his first step outside the sanctuary in what felt like forever. His heart hammered in his chest, but his feet kept moving forward.
For better or worse, Benny was back in the game.