Elara sagged in Tirn’s arms, the relief of their victory washing over her. As she let him support her full weight, she turned her attention to the notifications floating before her eyes. A surge of excitement coursed through her as she saw that she had reached level 50. It was a significant milestone, and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in her accomplishment.

  However, it was the other notification that truly captured her attention. The reward she had gained—a [Token of Specialization] for her Class Roulette—offered the tantalizing possibility of limiting her next spin to a specific archetype. Many possibilities flew through her mind. Should she choose a class focused on healing, or perhaps one that specialized in combat?

  She itched to use the skill and see if the Roulette would change its display. Would there be a list of archetypes to choose from?

  Her thoughts then turned to the timing of her next spin. She had enjoyed her time as a Voidwalker, embracing the unique abilities and style that came with the class. But now, with the prospect of a new class on the horizon, she couldn’t help but feel eager.

  Mentally calculating the days, she estimated she had approximately six more days until she could spin the Roulette again. It seemed like an eternity, but she knew that the time would pass quickly enough.

  Her mind filled with the possibilities and implications of the newly unlocked power. Lost in thought, a sudden smack on her back returned her to reality. Elara yelped in surprise, her head snapping around to see who had interrupted her fantasy.

  Esme stood there, face split by a wide grin, her eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine warmth. “You did amazing up there!” she said.

  A flush of warmth crept up Elara’s cheeks as flustered embarrassment took hold. Praise still felt foreign, almost unsettling, and with her mind still tangled in the chaos of battle, the right words escaped her. “I—I just followed your instructions,” she stammered, averting her gaze in an attempt to brush off the compliment.

  As the fog of adrenaline lifted, Elara’s gaze locked onto Esme, and her stomach clenched. Blood—too much of it—marked the warrior’s face and armor. Embarrassment vanished, replaced by a pressing sense of alarm. “You’re hurt,” she said, voice taut with urgency. “You should go to Krill before it gets worse.”

  Esme’s smile softened despite the blood that marred her features. “I’m fine, really,” she replied, her tone steady but not dismissive. “Krill is still busy with Velma. She needs him more right now.”

  At the mention of Velma, her expression darkened. The cheerful bravado slipped, replaced by a quiet concern that mirrored Elara’s own growing unease.

  “How is Velma?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder would make the situation worse.

  Esme remained silent, her expression unreadable as she turned toward Krill. The weight of the moment pressed between them, thick with things left unsaid. Tirn followed in quiet understanding, carrying Elara.

  Only then did Elara realize Tirn still held her in his arms. A fresh wave of embarrassment crashed over her, heat rushing to her cheeks. “Tirn—oh god, I’m so sorry,” she blurted, her voice quick and flustered. “I didn’t mean to be a burden. I can walk now, really.”

  He glanced at her, his eyes softening as he registered her discomfort. A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You’re no burden,” he said quietly, his voice a low rumble that seemed to ease her nerves slightly. “But if you insist…”

  With that, he gently set her down, making sure she was steady on her feet before releasing his hold. She quickly brushed herself off, trying to regain some sense of composure. But even as she stood on her own, she couldn’t shake the sense of vulnerability that lingered from being carried like that.

  Esme, having noticed the exchange, shot her a reassuring look over her shoulder. “You’ve been through a lot. It’s okay to lean on others when in unfamiliar situations,” she said.

  Elara nodded, though the embarrassment still lingered. But the concern for Velma quickly took precedence, and she followed Esme and Tirn, her heart heavy with uncertainty about what they would find.

  As they approached, the sound of Krill and Slynn’s arguing grew louder, their voices rising in a heated exchange.

  When they reached Velma, the sight that greeted them made her blood run cold. Velma lay on the ground, her eyes closed, her face pale and still. Krill knelt beside her, his form partially obscuring her side. But as she drew closer, she glimpsed something that made her stomach twist.

  Small points of white crystals protruded from Velma’s side, glinting in the dim light. With a sickening realization, she recognized them as the same crystals that had affected the creatures they had encountered outside and within the dungeon—the Ivory Blanclume.

  Her mind grasped the horrifying truth—the spiders' venom was the source of the Ivory Blanclume’s spread. The crystals grew from infected flesh, a manifestation of the corruption now coursing through Velma’s body.

  The thought of those crystals consuming Velma was almost too much to bear.

  She turned to Krill, desperate for any sign of hope that he could heal her. He worked in silence, his face grim, brow furrowed in concentration.

  Slynn stood nearby, his face tense with frustration and worry. Whatever argument he and Krill had been having seemed resolved.

  A wave of helplessness washed over Elara. She had no healing skills, no way to stop the Ivory Blanclume’s corruption.

  Krill turned toward them, his gaze searching before settling on Isolde and Kael as they approached. His voice was sharp with urgency. “Can you remove a status effect? Do you have an item or skill that can help?”

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  He gestured toward Isolde. “You are a mage, right? What type? Could your magic help? We haven’t seen you cast anything.”

  Caught off guard, Isolde hesitated. “I specialize in bodily enhancement,” she admitted, discomfort flickering in her voice. “And no, I don’t have anything that could help.”

  She paused, thinking. “The best option is to head to Heimshore. You might find a higher-level healer or an alchemist willing to help—for a price.”

  Selly, who had been listening, let out a disapproving grunt. “I really don’t want to go to Heimshore,” she muttered, tension tightening her voice. She didn’t explain, leaving Elara to wonder why.

  “Besides,” Selly added, “it’s too far. It would take weeks to get there.”

  Elara’s heart sank. She glanced at her still form, the glint of crystals piercing her flesh a stark reminder of their urgency.

  Her attention shifted as Arthur and Josephine approached, both mostly unscathed—a sharp contrast to Velma’s dire state. As she watched them, her mind drifted back to the battle with the golem, to the moment she had sliced through its arm.

  She recalled the sudden weight pressing on her shoulders, the force that had let her cut through with unexpected ease. It was the same effect that had kept the golem from escaping Ignatius’s spell. Realization struck—Josephine must have helped her, using magic to alter her weight or drag her downward at the perfect moment.

  Arthur’s voice cut through her thoughts, his tone laced with annoyance. “Why are we still standing around?” he demanded, his gaze sweeping over the group. “We should be getting out of here, not wasting time.”

  His words lingered, unspoken worry thick in the air. Velma’s condition was worsening, and every moment spent in the dungeon was time lost in finding her help. Tension tightened around the group, a silent pressure Elara could feel.

  She stood still, her thoughts tangled in the battle’s aftermath, until Kael’s heavy sigh pulled her back. The weariness in that single breath felt as heavy as the cavern itself, pressing down on them all. His shoulders were rigid, burdened not just by the fight they had endured, but by the choices still ahead.

  When he finally turned to face the group, his voice was steady, but his eyes held a hardened resolve.

  “We must take our leave,” he announced, the words carrying a finality that sent a ripple of tension through the air.

  Kael then turned to Ignatius. “Congratulations on reaching Level 100,” he said, his tone earnest but colored with the strain of the moment. The tension between the two men was palpable.

  Ignatius, usually so composed, offered only a brief nod, his brow furrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line. “Thank you,” he replied, his voice softer than usual.

  Kael’s gaze then shifted to Esme, and Elara noticed how it lingered, just for a moment, as if he wanted to say something more but couldn’t find the words. His eyes softened before he looked away, the tension between them unspoken. Without another word, he turned and headed toward an opening Elara hadn’t noticed. It must have been their entry point into the cavern.

  Arthur, who had been holding back, now seemed eager to leave, his steps quick as he followed Kael. Isolde, however, hesitated, her usual confidence faltering. Elara could see the internal struggle on her face—the reluctance to walk away, leaving Velma in such a dire state. The weight of the situation hung heavy on her, and for a moment, Elara thought she might stay.

  Finally, Isolde’s gaze met Elara’s, her expression softening despite the gravity of the moment. “Thank you for your help,” she said, her voice warm but tinged with a sadness that hadn’t been there before. “I hope we meet again under better circumstances.”

  The sincerity in her words struck Elara, and she could only nod as Isolde turned away, following Kael and Arthur, leaving a trail of silence behind her.

  Josephine was the last to leave, her presence lingering as she stood, her gaze flicking between Velma’s unmoving form and Krill, who was still bent over her, pouring all of his mana into his healing spells. Josephine walked over to them, reaching into her satchel. She withdrew two flasks filled with a shimmering blue liquid and set them gently beside Krill. Her movements were careful, almost reverent. Then, without a backward glance, she turned and left the cavern, her departure marked only by the fading echo of her footsteps.

  Giving in to curiosity, Elara activated her inspection skill, the familiar text appearing before her as her eyes narrowed.

  [Superior Mana Potion]

  Restores 30-40% of maximum mana.

  Krill’s reaction was immediate—a sharp intake of breath, his eyes widening in shock. “Thank you, Josephine!” he called after her, his voice breaking with gratitude. He reached for the flasks with trembling hands, the hope they represented almost too much to bear.

  Gilvanis slipped away from the group, his departure so quiet it barely registered amidst the tension in the air. No words, no goodbyes—just an absence that seemed to blend into the somber atmosphere.

  Esme approached Krill, her tone firm yet gentle. “We should head out,” she said, her eyes flicking toward Velma’s still form. “Staying here will only invite trouble.”

  Krill met her gaze, his expression tired, emotions unspoken in the lines of his face. He didn’t reply, instead turning his eyes toward Selly. Elara followed his gaze, startled to see that Selly’s foot, once horribly mangled, now looked bruised and swollen—but no longer disfigured..

  Selly met Esme’s gaze, a silent plea in her eyes. “Could you help us get out?” she asked, her voice tinged with hope and desperation.

  A small smile tugged at the corner of Esme’s lips, and she nodded. “Of course,” she agreed, her tone reassuring.

  Esme turned to Tirn, her voice taking on a note of authority. “Tirn, you take Velma,” she instructed, before shifting her attention to Selly. “I’ll take Selly.”

  She turned to Ignatius and Elara, her expression serious. “Ignatius, you take point with Alira,” she instructed, surprising Elara with the command. “Slynn and Krill, you stay behind them, and Tirn and I will bring up the rear.”

  Elara was taken aback by the responsibility thrust upon her again. The weight of it pressed down on her, mixing nervousness with determination as she quickly moved to Ignatius’s side.

  Meanwhile, Tirn knelt beside Velma, as he and Esme gently positioned her on his back, her hands resting on his shoulders for support. The somber scene was a stark reminder of their grim situation.

  Esme then made her way over to Selly, kneeling before her with her back turned. Selly, understanding the unspoken offer, climbed onto Esme’s back, settling into a classic piggyback position.

  Esme’s gaze then fell on Slynn, who stood nearby, looking uncertain. “Slynn,” she called out, her voice steady and clear, “take my hammer with you.”

  He hesitated for a moment before nodding, moving to retrieve the massive weapon. As he lifted it, Elara noticed the way he struggled slightly under its weight, his muscles straining with the effort.It was a clear testament to Esme’s strength that she wielded the hammer so effortlessly.

  With everyone ready, Ignatius took the lead, heading towards the tunnel where Kael and the others had disappeared. “Tell us which way to go if there’s a split,” he said, his voice echoing in the cavernous space.

  Esme nodded in agreement, her expression serious. “I will,” she replied, adjusting her grip on Selly as she prepared to follow.

  Elara fell into step beside Ignatius, her heart heavy with worry for Velma.