It took the group two days to reach the end of the tunnel. Thanks to the supplies they gathered from the fallen camp, they were able to set up their own encampment to rest and recover. The tunnel was unreasonably long — which made it a wonder how War Reaver even managed to fight such a monster.
Holy Knights were truly in a league of their own, the closest thing to demi-gods the human eye could see.
The image of the massacre did not escape anyone's mind. It was the only thing they could think about, which made the one lively conversation far more morbid than they'd been before.
Once again, they'd received a startling reminder of how perilous the place they were in was. They were adventuring through Hell, trying to find allies to help them in a journey they could prove to be hopeless.
Strangely, at some point, Worthy was certain he saw a bloom of smoke far in the distance. However, it was gone so quickly that he believed himself to be seeing illusions. In fact, he wondered if there was anyone in their group capable of casting illusions in the first place.
In terms of Rewards, he knew of the useful or remarkable ones:
Walkyr had the ability to teleport by snapping his fingers.
Esme could heal almost any injury, with quite a few circumstances restrictions.
War had multiple Rewards, including one that seemed to alert him of danger.
Hiel could summon a powerful monster that was an exceptional addition to their force.
As for his own ability, he did not know where exactly he could place it in comparison to these other Rewards. The ability to be guided through the tower was certainly a unique and valuable one, but it had far too many unknown variables. Furthermore, even if he knew the direction he needed to go in, that did not equip him with the tools necessary to reach it.
If a man knew he needed to dig a hole beneath a gate to get to the other side, he'd still have to go through the steps of digging the hole, rather than walking through the gate… A loose example, but an example nonetheless.
'Point being, until I get another ability, I don't think I'm going to be rushing into any direction recklessly. Not unless I have a good reason to, at least.'
Now that they'd escaped the tunnel after over 40 hours. Tensions had not been eased as they grew closer to the end of the tunnel, sadly.
They'd expected a feral, murderous man to come from around the corners of the various gore structures. No such man was anywhere to be seen in the region, in the end. That was a breath of fresh air and a sign that they could relax.
Their real enemies did not wait long to remind the group of their presence, despite the short period of peace. Dozens of Flesh Monsters appeared in the distance, coming over various hills and out of crevices in the ground.
Battle was a familiar friend, and the group almost happily welcomed it to distract themselves from the unsettling implications of their uncertain futures.
As the defenders fought, Worthy looked around at his surroundings now that he'd left the tunnel. It all felt very peculiar to him, the unordinary structure of the space. Now that he'd gone through the body of a massive worm creature, he could not help but notice a subtle resemblance to the very place he walked through. Corpses were not absorbed in the tunnel, meaning the deceased knights would remain there for eternity, unless something found and consumed them. Likewise, corpses were not consumed by the wasteland either.
There was not a mist looming in the massive tunnel they'd gone through, but he felt an unsettling similarity between the corpse of the worm and the First Floor as a whole.
It made him ponder. No one had seen the edge of the world, as far as he was aware — such a feat would never be accomplished, and only death would await the courageous, moronic soul who sought out to do it. With his ability, he had the best chance of reaching the edge of the world, at least in the future when his ability's capabilities have improved. Witless plans like that never crossed his mind.
A more immediate, dangerous plan was in his mind.
The child joined the defenders in fighting off the wave of monsters. There were much deadlier ideas, such as the one he'd been having a few moments ago. In the light of those foolish thoughts, fighting monsters he'd be forced to fight eventually anyway didn't seem all that bad.
It was an idea most ingenious.
"Gah!"
"Kid, be careful! These are a quick breed!"
"Yeah? I figured!"
Sadly, fighting off the attackers was by no means a relaxing task, naturally, it was far from it. Worthy had experienced fighting and slaying his fair share of abominations — not much compared to the defenders — nevertheless, a good number of flesh beasts had fallen to his blood-sucking dagger.
None of that meant his battles were easier. In fact, as he became more proficient with using his knife, he realized the battles were getting harder. As he focused more and more on his footing and making sure all of his actions were calculated to a degree, it created a window of opportunity for monsters to exploit. Worse than this sudden caution in his steps, the abominations they were fighting continued to be various in abilities; utterly unpredictable.
The majority of the monsters they'd fought were mindless and lunged any morsel within reach. Behind these mindless, generic abominations, there were some that were more burdensome.
He'd noticed during the battle on the second mountain, but some monsters had different behavior patterns than others.
A prime example would be the abomination that threw other flesh abominations at the group from a distance to infect them. Essentially, those vermin acted as marksmen and were the most dreaded type of monster they'd met thus far. Having to look around and be cautious about two types of flying flesh creature was stressful, at the very least.
The current abominations giving her trouble weren't tricky because of their ability to hurl lumps of flesh. The beasts were terrifying because of their swiftness, gradually closing distance with prey and attacking with precisionless ferocity. The lack of accuracy with the attacks made them easy to avoid, but the significant difference in speed between the beasts and humans made it difficult nevertheless.
Irregular monsters were emerging over-and-over again.
As one of the abominations pulled its legless body across the ground with tentacles that seemed to stick to any surface, Worthy was still recovering from a short confrontation with another monster, lying lifeless to his side.
The recovery would never be completed, as the boy sharply inhaled and threw himself away from the legless horror. "Keep your ha— tentacles away from me!"
Enemies with tentacles were the most difficult for him to battle with. He was short and nimble, but none of that mattered against whip-like appendages that could cover several angles at once with their attacks. If the monsters had a capacity to learn, Worthy wouldn't doubt the tentacle beasts would exploit their overbearing range and size accordingly.
Darting in, Worth's dagger shined brighter as his hand tightened around the handle.
Retaliating, the legless abomination sent two tentacles jetting out at the boy, preparing to neatly encase and suffocate the child for devouring. If he leapt over one of them, that's what would've happened.
Instead of being caught and having the tentacles wrap around him, the child spun over the tentacle and finally closed the gap between himself and the large foe. It was too big to be taken out with a single attack, but the child was not planning on barraging an enemy with so many advantages against him.
Swinging his dagger up, the slum-dweller used the enchanted potency of the weapon to easily cleave through the roots of several tentacles, one after the other. Disconnected from their source, the tentacles fell sloppily, limply to the ground and never rose again.
Many more remained, but a void space was created with the dismemberment of the frontal tentacles. Furthermore, the balance of the creature shifted abruptly from the loss of limbs and sent it swaying and staggering to one side.
Worthy pushed off his back foot just in time to avoid a large cluster of tentacles violently crushing the spot he'd just been standing at.
Sweat nervously dripped down his face as he wondered how he'd handle the fight from there. Thankfully, before he could finish these thoughts, something beamed through the air and eradicated the monster that was several meters away from the boy.
A beam of light was produced from the distance, where War and several others were fighting a particularly large group of attackers.
'Phew. As much as I don't like the guy, I'm happy that a sharpshooter is watching our backs.'
There were many proficient Climbers among them, and Deadman Walkyr was among the best. The man's body was carpeted by various runic enchantment tattoos. Furthermore, he wielded an extremely potent firearm and had the ability to teleport, in addition to his natural talents that let him contend with Knights.
Such an ally was a relief to have, especially when there was no limit to where he could be on the battlefield. If things looked good against one group, he could quickly turn around and teleport to another conflict to support the Climbers there. His love for battle made this occurrence happen quite a few times, against the better judgement of some of the more thoughtful members of the group.
Yesterday, they went through the burial ground of a squad of knights, who would probably never find themselves buried.
Today, they were fighting more as a collective than they had on the mountains. If the deaths they'd suffered hadn't been enough of a "wake-up call", then the revelation that not even humans could be trusted created both a bond and a divide among the group. People did not suspect each other of being murderers, but they no longer put it past others to be capable of killing another human.
Division somehow brought better cooperation, though.
Because people didn't want to risk being accused of behaving strangely, or potentially being a "traitor" and being shunned, everyone was trying to carry their weight. Creating a bond with those around you was a good way not to end up on the receiving end of a blade.
Worthy knew how foolish that line of thinking was, though. Betrayal could only come from allies or those you trusted, and therefore the bonds that these people were making would most likely end up working against them later down the line, if they made it that far to begin with.
Whatever the mixture of reasons were for the sudden improvement in their capabilities, which the child suspected was truly the application of one of War Reaver's many Rewards, it was graciously accepted. Any boost in their chance of success and survival was accepted.
That was the momentum they maintained across the wasteland.
And after three days, including a lengthy journey around a massive, oval-shaped bone mountain, and the suffering of a few casualties, something new came into view. It was not made of blood, nor was it made of bones. The entirety of the wall that came into view, with watchtowers hundreds of feet high, was a man-made structure, surrounded by a plain and several paths and were overflowing with the corpses of destroyed abominations.
After a week-long journey, Middle Town came into view, and the Army of Hope reached the destination they'd abandoned their paradise for.
As it turned out, Middle Town seemed to be more of a paradise than the Devil's Den could ever compare — which was not the cause of Worthy's sudden unease.
For the first time since he'd arrived, his instincts seemed to conflict with an overwhelming force. It felt natural to approach the town and join the larger collective of Climbers to find allies. Likewise… his very core told him that for once, he was going the wrong way.