Floor 8. Days of travel and sneaking, of hiding, and of avoiding fights wherever they can. A trip that should have taken no more than a day or two at most for a large group of adventurers, especially for those of the Golden Mare. Especially when they are following the quickest route down. When some paths are far too dangerous to risk, the branches being infested with twisted and mutated violations of flesh, they back track and take other routes.

  They simply can’t afford to get into every fight. They can’t risk drawing too much attention. Not when every fight becomes a major drain on their supplies, or when even a single tear in a hazmat suit could lead to someone’s death.

  Water is limited, food is limited, and filters have to constantly be replaced, and mana shards used to recharge the suits' enchantments. Fighting makes people thirsty. Fighting kicks up spores into the air, and clogs filters. Fighting gets people killed.

  The only option is to go slow and proceed carefully. To remain constantly aware at all times, be it day or night, for the potential of getting ambushed. Not even the Safe Rooms are safe to use anymore. They are infested with mushrooms, and the Undead have no respect for the rules of the Dungeon, being more than free to wander in as they please. The fountains, which used to flow with crystal clear fresh water, now provide only a murky poison of a drink that promises stomach aches and indigestion. Even the eternally burning fires of the hearths have been reduced to barely burning embers, nearly smothered out by the cloying grip of the ever-present feeling of Death in the air.

  There is no safe place to rest. Sleep has to be done in strict schedules, and only to the minimum. Just enough for everyone to get a couple hours of rest. They can’t stay in one place for too long. The Undead are seemingly drawn to areas where Life congregates. Stay in one spot for too long, and a fight is inevitable.

  Elaine trudges forward, ripping an empty food slurry from her mask and dropping it on the floor. She was mid meal, if this degusting excuse for food can even be called a meal, when they were forced to leave in a hurry.

  Those on watch had spotted too much movement in the dark, and Dale didn’t hesitate to order them to get moving. The Undead don’t care if it is too dark to properly see and can attack at any time. Most of the Undead don’t even have functioning eyes anymore and somehow see with methods that don’t involve light. For Elaine, she wouldn’t be surprised if it is that they can somehow see or sense the souls of the living. Drawn towards those living flames like moths seeking something more.

  Reattaching her drinking hose, Elaine looks around at everyone else, glowing with shoulder mounted light stone lanterns, which are fueled by their suit's battery packs. Expensive. But when fire could cause all the mushrooms around them to explode, regular wood and fire torches aren’t exactly an option.

  Those that were sleeping are stumbling forward like the dead, probably praying to the Goddess for a couple more hours of sleep, or for a hot cup of coffee to magically appear in their hands.

  Taking a sip of water to wash down the taste of slop, Elaine sighs.

  Wish I could have a cup of tea… Crap, I better catch up.

  Looking away from the others, she speeds up to walk closer to Susan. The swordswoman’s side is probably the safest place to be right now. Especially when the world around their lights is almost pitch-black, the light of their lanterns being like an oasis in the desert. Even with those who have the best night vision leading the way and keeping a lookout, it isn’t easy to relax in this dark place.

  She wants to reach out and hold her hand for safety. Every time some distant creature makes a call out in the darkness, she flinches, half expecting some monstrosity to come barreling into the light and take them all by surprise. To rip someone in half as she is forced to watch and unable to do anything.

  Over the past few days, she has seen people die in horrific ways. Each one becoming a fresh nightmare to haunt her dreams when she sleeps. Elaine had thought herself used to death by now, having seen plenty of people pass away in clinics where she volunteers as a healer. But how the Undead kill is hardly comparable to peacefully passing away in a warm bed. She wasn’t prepared for this, and Elaine will probably be cursed by the memories of her time here for the rest of her life, if she manages to get out alive.

  Susan glances over at her, the motion being obvious as she has to turn her entire head to shift the visor of her suit far enough to be able to see. She doesn’t say anything, probably just checking on Elaine and making sure that she is still close at hand and safe. She always has one hand on her sword, always ready to draw it at any moment. Something that has already saved lives a number of times, just within these past couple of days alone.

  They continue on, moving slowly, but with determination. Moving from cover to cover, even in the dark, they continue to make their way deeper into the Dungeon, following over trails of twisting, rotted branches of giant trees, leaving trails through feet of spores that covers the ground like snow.

  In the dark, with only the light from the light stones around her, Elaine can’t help but to grimace as she feels what are effectively hunger pains from her core. Running close to empty, the scant amount of Light Mana floating in the air around them is tempting. Like smelling a delicious meal on the table before you while starving, Elaine has to actively restrain herself from opening her core and devouring it all.

  It would be so easy, far too easy, for her to just rip all the Light out of the world around her and absorb it into her core. And it would feel amazing. It’s a sensation that normal people will never get to feel, and while it feels similar to filling an empty stomach with a hot meal, it’s also not quite the same. There is a distinction that is hard to describe, but is also hard to not notice and enjoy.

  Regretfully, Elaine will have to metaphorically starve. If she were to try and fill her core right now, it would cause quite a few problems. For one, she would quite literally absorb all the available light out of her surroundings, dragging everyone around her into an even deeper darkness. This isn’t normally an issue on the surface during the day, when she has the literal sun to endlessly provide light. But down here, she can’t be so reckless.

  Secondly, the light stones wouldn’t survive the process. If Elaine were so inclined as to do so, she could happily eat them. Literally. For a Light Mage, they taste almost like honey candies, and are almost addictive. Thankfully, they are also expensive, so it is hard to get enough of them to form an actual addiction from eating too many. Elaine simply wouldn’t be able to afford it.

  And lastly, even if she were careful while doing so. There is just too much Death mana in the air right now. She doesn’t have anywhere near the level of control or skill necessary to safely pull only the light mana in and would certainly get poisoned in the process. Something that would just turn her into a burden during this trip.

  Or more of a burden…

  She looks back at Susan. A powerful fighter. Then the others, all of them dirty and their weapons well used. Everyone else is doing all the fighting, while she has to remain in the center, protected by everyone else. All because she can’t afford to use any of her remaining mana. She can’t even fight without mana. Elaine was never trained for it. Maybe if she had a spear, she could stab forward with it and do something, but more than likely, she would just end up getting in everyone else's way.

  The best she can do is stay safe until she is needed. To preserve her mana for fighting the Necromancer.

  To push down the hunger in her core, she sucks some more water down and tries to keep her focus on their surroundings. To try and help spot any dangers if she can. It’s the best that she can do for now.

  They continue on, eventually reaching an area where they have to climb down the side of a branch to reach a lower path. Carefully working in the dark, they tie off ropes and throw them over the side. Rappelling down in threes, their lights like orbs of life itself descending into the dark where the surface of the next branch can’t even be properly seen. She watches as people go over one after the other, yellow-green suits disappearing over the side.

  “Come on, let’s go.” Susan tells her as she leads her to the ropes.

  Connecting the line to her belt and letting Susan check to make sure she is good to go, they both move backwards and start to slowly walk down the curved side of the branch until they are standing almost horizontal, the side of the massive branch’s rotting bark being like a diseased cliff face under their boots.

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  Pushing away from the bark, they rappel down, one jump at a time, the rope sliding through their gloved hands in a tight grip, boots landing and pushing off again.

  Looking up, Elaine watches as the surface of the branch disappears into the darkness, Elaine’s world becoming nothing but the side of its craggy surface in the light of their lanterns. On her other side is Vincent, a bulging bag full of tags hanging from his belt and clinking every time he pushes off and lands. When she looks down, it is like she is descending into the void. Further down is the lights of those who had gone first, slowly growing larger as they draw closer.

  The ropes start to shake, and Elaine quickly looks back up again. Up above, the lights of those waiting their turn to climb down are moving. She can hear as someone screams up above, a fight breaking out. Someone tries to climb down the ropes above them, their lights moving quickly as people shout for them to come back and help.

  Beside Elaine, Vincent yells up at them, “Hey! What the hell are you doing? Wait your turn, damn it!” He quickly speeds up, jumping past Elaine and hurrying as the guy above him is coming down.

  “Shit, move faster! Elaine, hurry!” Susan curses.

  They jump and jump again, rappelling as quickly as they can as the fighting up above grows into a clamor of noise.

  A scream, and they all look up again. The guy on Vincent’s line falls and goes flying past in a blur, Elaine barely catching sight of yellow-green speeding past as he screams for help. Vincent hugs the wall, just barely avoiding getting hit.

  “Move!” Susan barks out again, getting them to quickly start moving again.

  They hurry, Elaine descending as fast as she can, the rope running through her gloves so fast that she could swear they are smoking. Her boots breaking off pieces of rotting bark every time she lands before quickly kicking off again.

  Without warning, a rope snaps, something cutting it up above. Vincent screams and falls, limbs flailing in the air all the way down. Elaine tries to go faster. Breathing rapidly, feeling like she is going to hyperventilate, sweat drenching her body, she rappels again and again. The lights below her grow larger, but she isn’t there yet. She needs to go faster.

  A hiss. She looks up, peering out of her visor, watching as a large reptilian figure emerges out of the darkness and looks down at her. One lifeless, faded eye, and a socket overflowing with mushroom caps and leaking fluids, spores escaping its mouth with every motion and a half-rotted tongue lolling out the side. The green striped scales that run along the rig of its head is pitted and full of holes, revealing parts of its skull where mycelian roots have dug in and melded with bone and meat.

  The thing looks around after entering the light, one eye going one direction, mushrooms going another. A useless display, as the thing is surely blind, but when it snaps its head towards Elaine and both eyes, dead and empty or not, turn towards her, she can’t help but to let out a scream.

  Its mouth opens and its tongue is suddenly hurtling towards her face like it just got shot out of a cannon.

  She gets kicked in the side, Susan pushing her out of the way as she draws her sword with one hand and holds onto her line with the other.

  Elaine lets go, the rope slipping from her hands, falling, the rope running through her belt and grinding against buckles, trying to slow her down. Flailing, she reaches for her belt and pulls hard when her hand finds the brake strap.

  With a sudden stop that has her suffering whiplash, she gasps, her fall leaving her swinging in the air and smacking into the side of the branch just as she manages to pull up her arms to protect her head.

  “Oouf!”

  It takes a moment to recover, and Elaine quickly looks up. When she does, the body of the lizard is falling past her, its head falling first with its long tongue trailing out the side of its mouth.

  Up above, Susan is fighting with just one hand as she holds onto her rope, kicking off the branch and swinging or descending from side to side as she avoids the strikes of zombies climbing down the wooden surface.

  With a slash, she severs the arms of some large monkey looking creature that tries to grab her, the thing falling off and flailing as it disappears into the darkness below. With another kick, she is jumping over the snapping head of some mutilated insect that is more mushroom than it is carapace, parrying its stinger tipped tail before landing and quickly moving in to remove three of its legs in a single strike.

  “Susan!”

  “Keep moving, Elaine! Get to the others! Move!”

  She hurries, doing as she is told. One jump, two, three. She looks back up again and sees that the Undead are only increasing in number, Susan not being able to remain in one spot for more than a second before she has to kick off and dodge again. With every motion, even fighting with one hand full, she is attacking and tearing though zombies of countless creatures that just keep crawling out of the dark. With every swipe of her sword, limbs are cut away and bodies fall into the abyss.

  Quickly jumping to the side, Elaine avoids getting hit by a falling leg that is almost as big as she is.

  “Susan!!”

  Elaines doesn’t want to see her die. She knows how strong the swordswoman is. This isn’t her first time going on a quest with her after all. But when she sees how she is being hounded endlessly and more and more zombies seem to be climbing down without stop, she just can’t help but to worry that something might happen. That just one mistake might spell Susan’s end. It doesn’t even have to be a serious injury. Just a scratch to her suit. Just big enough for a single spore to get in. That is all it would take, and she would be dead.

  Elaine’s friend. Her surrogate big sister in the clan. The woman that helped her when she was still just a little runaway noble girl, with no plans and nowhere else to go.

  “Light, brighten up the night and expel the darkness. Repulse evil and bring clarity to the blind. Burn and singe all who would use the shadows to hide! Grant me Morning's LIGHT! Dawn’s Flair!!!”

  A lightning bolt made solid; a blazing spear of pure light is born in Elaine’s outstretched hand. With a throw, it flies up and out, soaring over everyone’s heads and above that of the zombies. Once it is high enough, she pulls on her connection to the spell, unravelling the tightly contained light and finally allowing the spell to explode.

  Like the morning sun shining over the horizon, light floods into the world and illuminates everything. Hundreds of creatures are instantly revealed as the darkness is forcefully peeled back, zombies hissing and sputtering, flailing and smoking as the light finds their rotting and twisted bodies. Many of them let go of the branch as they flinch, falling away and screeching or hissing as they fall through the air to go splat on the branches below, or to miss and fall further still into where the Dungeon is still dark. Those that manage to hold on, their bodies baking under the light, skin and scales boiling and popping and singeing, they turn and flee, running with all their might to escape the holy, Goddess blessed, light.

  Even distant Undead, who had nothing to do with what is going on over here, turn and flee and hide away as a miniature sun is temporarily born on the eighth floor of the Dungeon. Just looking at it, even from a distance, is enough to burn out their eyes and leave any Undead, miles around, hissing in pain.

  The humans, the Goddess’s favorite children? While the light certainly stings the eyes, leaving everyone squinting and turning away slightly and shielding themselves with their hands, it does not harm them at all.

  With the Undead fleeing in full force or having plummeted to their doom, Susan looks down at a panting Elaine and hurries to descend down to her.

  “Are you an idiot!? You only have so much mana left, what were you thinking?”

  Elaine quickly catches her breath, her core aching and protesting in her guts with every lungful of air, begging to let open and draw in more mana. It hurts to refuse it, but she simply can’t risk taking in the ambient Death mana.

  “I-I’m sorry. I just can’t risk losing you! I’m sorry, I got scared…”

  “I had it han-…” Susan starts, but bites her tongue to stop herself. She knows that Elaine was just doing what she thought was necessary. She wants to say that she could handle herself. To say that she would be fine, and that Elaine had nothing to worry about. But that would be stupid.

  Susan is strong. She knows she is. She knows what she is capable of with a sword in hand, and Elaine does too. But Susan has also seen her fair share of people die, idiots and geniuses both, who thought themselves unstoppable on the battlefield and paid for their overconfidence. Plenty of whom, Susan had been the one to remove the heads of. It only takes one mistake, and then even the greatest of warriors can fall.

  “Sorry, no, you were right to help. Thank you, Elaine, you really saved me up there.” Susan apologizes as she sheaths her sword and then leans over to hug the shorter girl with one arm. “How much do you have left in you?”

  “One or two more spells…”

  “Ok. Just, please, try and keep the rest in reserve. Don’t use any unless you desperately have to.”

  “Alright, I promise."

  “Good. Now let’s get down from here. We need to check on the others.”

  They quickly descend the rest of the way and as soon as their boots are finally reuniting with the floor, they are being swarmed with people coming over to check on them. Off to the side, Vincent is being held up by a helpful arm under the shoulder, a potion connected to the feeding port on his mask.

  Arthor, the group's second healer and alchemist, is busy wrapping a splint around his leg and foot. Once the first potion is emptied and returned, he is already handing over a second one, instructing the person holding Vincent up to attach it as well.

  “Is he alright?” Susan asks as she and Elaine walk over, the light from the flair still illuminating the sky as it slowly falls and fades away.

  “He’ll be fine. Fall blew the wind out of him. Worse damage is his leg, ankle took the brunt of it and broke. First potion set it back properly, second will make him heal faster. Vincent, listen to me, VINCENT focus!” He snaps up at the guy who is probably a bit rightfully dazed right now. “Keep off of this leg for a few hours. Try not to move it too much and don’t put any pressure on it. Drink plenty of water. You are going to need it for the next few hours, or you’ll get dehydrated. You listening?”

  “Ya, doc…” Vincent nods.

  “Good, remember-”

  He continues to fret over him, drilling in that he shouldn’t use the leg as it heals and repeating himself.

  Off to the side, Dale is looking up, back to the top of the branch they just left. No one else is climbing down. Another three have died. Of all those who had entered, only eleven are left.

  He looks down and sighs as everyone watches, the loss clearly weighing heavily on his shoulders.

  “We need to take advantage of this light and make distance. If we hurry, we can make it to the stairs… Andy, help Vincent walk. Let’s go.”