The Demon Queen's Royal Consort-Chapter 107 - Dungeon - XV

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"Arrrrg... be more careful, Dália!" I yelped, writhing in pain.

"Shhh... stop being such a crybaby!"

She continued removing the chitin fragments embedded in my wounds. Having been so close to the grasshopper's explosion, my body had been pierced by hundreds of sharp shards.

Most of my injuries had already closed as if I'd never been hurt—but some required special attention. The thought of having a piece of rotten chitin sealed inside my flesh wasn't exactly comforting.

"Aiii!"

"There, done!"

A golden light enveloped my body, sealing the last cuts on my trapezius and shoulders.

We were in a peaceful clearing. Half of it was covered by the mountain's yellowed vegetation, forming a natural roof that shielded us from the icy night wind. At the summit of the fourth mountain, the air was thin, and our breathing was still adjusting—it would only get worse from here.

"How are the others?"

"Alive! Aeloria will be unconscious for a while. Seraphine is in the best condition she's been since we entered the dungeon, thankfully."

"And Dórian?"

"He got lucky. The shield protected him from the blades hurled at him, but his arms took serious damage. His left arm was barely hanging by the skin when we pulled him out."

"Will it take long to heal?"

"It shouldn't, but... he's been through too many dangerous situations lately. His recovery speed has slowed down."

"Whatever. Let's use this time to observe the fifth mountain."

"But I have good news!"

I raised a skeptical eyebrow. After everything we'd been through, I needed more than promises to lift my mood.

"We found this on the third grasshopper's body."

Dália reached into her bag and pulled out four pieces of moss-green metal—a gauntlet, a vambrace, a couter, and a rerebrace. They seemed to be parts of a set.

"What is this?"

"An artifact. It was hidden inside a massive hollow tree. I think it was where they slept... or took shelter."

"Hidden? You mean it didn't come from inside the grasshopper?"

"From inside? No, of course not." She frowned. "Why would you think that?"

"I... thought artifacts appeared as rewards. Like loot. You know? Dropped by the creatures when they die."

Dália stared at me with an unreadable look, somewhere between disbelief and pity.

"You actually believe that?"

"So... where do they come from? How are they made?"

"Nobody knows."

"What do you mean, nobody knows?"

"Exactly that. It's one of the great mysteries of dungeons. Sometimes, artifacts are with the monsters. Other times, they're hidden in niches, crevices, unusual places. And in this case, they seem to be guarded by these aberrations. There's no pattern. There never has been."

"Nobody knows..." I repeated quietly.

It was frustrating. My loot logic, based on games and predictable systems, crumbled right there. No guarantees. No clear rules.

My gaze drifted to the black ring on my finger.

It still tingled sometimes, as if breathing energy. Two sensations always came with it.

The first was a slow drain—something inside was absorbing my energy, drop by drop, and I had no idea why.

The second was... an invitation.

A silent, insidious call, almost intimate. Like a voice whispering promises in the dark. It pulled at me, challenged me. Stirred something primal within me. It was fascinating. And terrifying.

Logically, I would never go back inside that ring.

At least... that's what I told myself.

"Why is it so small?" I asked.

The set was no more than a meter long, sized for a child.

Dália raised her hand. Prana flowed from her fingers, wrapping around the armor pieces, which began to tremble. Within seconds, as if alive, the pieces adjusted to her arm, covering it from hand to shoulder. But it didn't stop there—it expanded across her torso and left arm, forming a complete upper-body armor.

"Wow... that's impressive!"

"I agree. Finding artifacts this useful in dungeons is rare, young master."

"Can anyone use it?"

"Yes. Just feed it prana. It's not an exclusive-use artifact."

"That's great! It'll help us a lot here."

Non-exclusive artifacts were more valuable precisely because they could be sold—but also more dangerous.

They drew attention... especially from artifact hunters, assassins specialized in stealing such treasures.

Instinctively, I knew my ring was exclusive. If someone stole it, it wouldn't work for them. But who would want an artifact that could kill its user?

"It came at the right time. Dórian wouldn't survive another mountain without proper protection. Not with his suicidal tendencies!" Dália said.

"Good thinking. Better give it to him—he's always on the front lines. But... what about its quality?"

"I don't know, young master. We'll have to test it."

"What do you have in mind?"

Before she could answer, a water tentacle formed, hurling a bladed arm at the armor.

My eyes widened.

"CLANG!"

The impact echoed, and the blade—the sharpest weapon we had—bounced off without leaving a scratch.

"Dália!!!" I protested.

"It's excellent!" she ignored me, inspecting the armor. "It'll do."

I shook my head in exasperation.

"We should rest while Aeloria and Dórian are unconscious," Dália said, exhaustion clear in her voice.

"You're right," I agreed.

"Seraphine!" I called.

"Hi!" she responded, turning from where she kept watch on the slope.

"Wake us if you see any movement!"

"Got it!"

Settling into a corner of the clearing, Dália leaned against me, resting her head on my chest and slowly closing her eyes, surrendering to fatigue.

I, however, couldn't sleep so easily.

Too many doubts tormented me.

'What awaits us on the fifth mountain? Four grasshoppers? We barely handled three—how would we face four?'

'How much time has passed outside?'

'This damn ring won't stop calling me. Leave me alone! I don't want to die!'

'My spatial energy is accumulating faster here. If I could cultivate like this in Atlas, my cores would be saturated in three months.'

'It makes sense. We passed through a spatial rift—this place must be saturated with spatial laws.'

My eyes closed, and I entered my inner world.

It was as always.

Storm clouds crackling with lightning in the sky. My body floating in the void, and below, an endless black abyss.

The only difference was the cracks.

Before, there had only been two. Now, there were ten—five below and five in the sky, near the storm clouds.

They had multiplied since I left the ring.

The final scene—the crack spreading across the black wall—was still vivid in my memory.

'I still don't know how to replicate this in reality.'

That was the truth.

I had learned something inside the ring, but I didn't know exactly what.

Every time I tried to apply it, the magic failed, as if something was missing. Something that existed in the ring's world but not here.

'What's lacking?'

I meditated, sifting through all my knowledge, every event up to now.

Facts organized themselves in my subconscious. How my rifts opened faster. How my ability to transport others had improved. How the distance had increased.

The only question was: why?

My experience in the ring had changed my perception of spatial affinity—but I didn't know how. It was like the quantum compass in birds.

You can't ask a bird how it knows where north is. It just knows. It knows when to migrate and where to go.

I was the same.

I knew how to open rifts faster, how to move better between them.

It might seem ungrateful, but I was frustrated. Frustrated at not understanding my own evolution.

Understanding would let me improve consistently, not just by instinct.

Relying on occasional epiphanies was risky—and I didn't want to leave my growth to chance.