The -S- Rank Dungeon

A niveous land of white spread through every angle.

There were bumps in the etiolate landscape, but they were so hard to decipher that one's eyes needed time to adjust to the flawless color pallor that had no spots or stains.

The sky itself was pale and frail.

A shade lighter than the snow beneath it.

Often, when eyes were dreary and tired it would be hard to see where the pallor sky started and where the heavens landscape began.

There was no sun, moon, or stars in the sky.

No birds, trees, or shrubs in the surroundings.

Just an eternal white.

Our pale figures were like aged strips on a white wall as we crossed through the valleys and hills of tintless textures.

Beige and aged, we seemed.

It was at that time that we had just entered the Dungeon.

I still thought that my companions were over-reacting. Especially Red-Dragon.

He was an -S- Rank. It should've been easy.

Right?

Keeping a brisk pace, I tried my best to be complacent with the irritated and condescending side glances that I was receiving from my comrades.

Communication seemed to have been cut upon entering this place.

Luckily, Vigar seemed to have made it through the teleportation process.

The air here was thin and algid.

Every time the displeasing air swooped down my throat, the top of my mouth felt fervent and ablaze.

It was far from a comforting experience.

There were no gusts of flurries of the chilling wind.

Just a landscape that seemed to have caused the temperature to drop near frost levels.

The exposed part of my back felt terribly stiff and frozen as I tried to warm it up with my frantically scratching hand.

The only thing that kept my throbbing muscles going was that vivid dream of 300,000 Judes.

That was 3/4 of the way.

Of course, I would most definitely not take the entire 300,000 Judes.

100,000 each?

Well, that didn't seem reasonable either.

200,000 50,000 50,000.

Yeah. That fits well.

And when these guys realize that an -S- Rank Dungeon isn't even that bad, I'm sure it'll be light work to find another one.

Yeah.

My hopes grew ever so slightly as we continued dragging our feet through the snow.

Time passed.

And we continued trudging on.

The trail behind us had formed a sort of murky river.

Feeling that the silence was growing slightly too large, I felt the need to spark some communication. Some interactions. Some life right into this party.

"Is it... that bad?"

Perhaps because my voice had been slumping, and the fact that I was slightly fearful of what their responses would be.

But my voice was more of a mutter and whisper in the freezing air that nipped at my red-fingers, turning them pale and numb.

Frila opened her mouth for a split-second to respond but Red Dragon was first.

His hood was still hung over his face as his strides came to a halt.

I heard something of a drawn-out breath as he turned his hood ever so slightly.

To the point where I could see the edge of his eyes.

They were golden in that one, insignificant moment.

They had the brightness and texture of the moon on a desolate night, yet this moon was in the process of being crippled by the sun.

Or rather, it already had been.

Our entire troop stopped as I waited in uneager anticipation for his words.

His voice was pained and tired as he shook his eye's striking gaze off me.

"Brala."

"I have not once, not ever, never even attempted, to do an -S- Rank Dungeon in the middle of its flourishing period."

But that didn't matter.

Right?

My eyes still held loose hope as my stance remained strong.

He put an arm on my shoulder as our eyes locked in once again.

"Brala."

"This isn't about -S- Ranks anymore. This is Hollow-Level territory. And you know what else? I'm hardly an -S- Rank and centuries from the Hollow Rank's weakest combatant. That's why we won't be able to conquer this place. Not now, and most likely not ever."

My tongue curled up.

This didn't feel right.

We were to give up just like this?

My voice came out with a surprising amount of vigor and emotion.

"What are you on about? They said it could just be -A- Ranks too. There's always a chance. I've seen you go serious, and you're the fastest man I've ever seen. Faster than the world itself."

I wasn't lying technically.

It had taken the world time to catch up to him as well as time for the sound to erupt around him.

To respond to my statement, he spoke brazen and unpolished. I could hear the years of age and pain in his voice.

"Brala. Have you ever seen an -A- Rank party clear a Constructing -S- Rank Dungeon?"

Well. No. I've only been here for a month after all...

But it didn't matter.

Red Dragon continued walking forwards uncaring whether I had a response or not.

Irritatingly forced to follow him, I put our grudges aside.

He hadn't done anything wrong.

I just wasn't an admirer of the attitude, I suppose.

And as I followed in his steps.

Time passed.

And nothing changed.

It's been a week since we entered this dungeon.

I just sit in this small snow cavern that we found.

It's pure white and the snow has hardened to the degree of stone.

It's roomy enough for 10 people.

We sleep on the somewhat appreciable floor in silence.

A small metal contraption sits in the middle, releasing a lukewarm flame that spreads to every corner of the room.

A faint orange hue illuminated the trembling snow around us.

It ensures our survival.

It had been quite boring.

Just waiting here as Red Dragon came back, blood-stenched and half-tired.

From what I had heard from Frila, the Dungeon Construction process would halt when intruders entered. This gave us time.

However, for the down side. All the monsters in the dungeon would slowly be sent to us in waves for intruding.

It would be another couple of days according to Red Dragon before we got the option to retreat.

If we decided to take that option or not, was a differant matter for a differant day.

Well. Nothing really mattered now.

I would just be slumped inside this little snow globe with Frila.

Roughly, yanking and jerking Crolo-Ivarian beef from my teeth had been frustrating and nauseating.

Every day, Red Dragon came back slightly more tired.

It was now apparent that stronger enemies had been appearing as time passed.

Had their estimate been right?

That it would be downright impossible to conquer this half-dungeon?

I sighed as I sat slumped within the dome.

The graily snow cushioned my back and the odd contrast of temperature in the air and on the floor made it feel dreamy.

Dreams are easy to forget.

Talking about forgetting things...

Vigar.

He doesn't remember a single thing from that night.

As if there is a painfully blatant gap in his memory, he doesn't remember anything including when I asked him how to get 400,000 Judes. His memory cuts back in when Frila realizes that I am a Phantom.

Or a Half-Phantom, atleast.

It's strange.

I don't think the ravine creature had the ability to wipe memories.

I don't even know what happened to Vigar during the gap.

The phantom could've been by my side, invisible.

Or the phantom could've been in darker places.

But did any of this even matter now?

The River Creature's involvement? It's agenda? Would discovering the reason for such things get us out of this dungeon?

Well. It sure would give me some peace of mind.

I had long realized that it would do no good to question the carefree Vigar.

Still.

I had thought my first -S- Rank Semi-Dungeon would be a bit more than waiting in some snow dome.

Talking to Frila hurt me inside, I could tell that she was constantly on edge. That one was probably on Vigar.

Great job for revealing that I have an invisible Phantom who could strangle her whilst she is in the act of sleeping.

That really lessened the mood...

My dazed eyes continued looking upwards as my slumped fowl soon became slightly more lively.

Frila was quite knowledgeable.

Maybe she could answer a question or two of mine.

My voice was incomprehensively stale and dead.

I had started so many 'enticing' conversations with Frila like this.

"Frila. Might you know anything about phantoms?"

I tried to hold down a yawn, yet I couldn't.

It had been next door to the bricked-up-wall room experience in my slave week here in terms of things to do and things to enjoy.

In other words, incomprehensibly lifeless.

To my question, Frila's edged face irked.

As if annoyed at my presence she refused to answer my question and instead sparked her own.

I could hear the masked frustration that she hid with her hand as her mouth rabidly snarked at me.

"For a 200-year-old Half-Phantom, you sure don't act your age."

Eh?

200... years old?

Did I say that?

No... I don't think I did.

Rummaging a hand through my glossy white hair that had mixed itself in with the curved wall behind me, I questioned her back openly.

"I'm 200?"

My voice was a mix of astonishment and curiosity.

Although I'm sure that we had been in this environment for a time that made minutes seem like hours, I highly doubted the week had been 200 years to her. But if so, maybe I should start being nice to this clearly sleep-deprived lady.

She snug her disheveled gray-white hair with both hands as her voice once again came out griping and frustrated.

"You aren't tricking anyone. It's common knowledge that the Phantom's age differently to humans. Even if you are a 'half-phantom' you will most certainly be older than your appearance."

I placed a hand by the hem of my chin.

200 years old.

That would be quite a magnificent age to grow to.

I decided I ought to research into this aging dilemma.

I had never thought about how long I would live.

Just living was quite a reward that I had been granted.

"Whatever, I don't need your reasoning to put me down."

Brushing Frila off with a blissfully satisfying response I crouched down, facing the wall, and muttered to Vigar.

"Vigar. How does this whole aging thing work."

My voice was hushed through the hot air.

I was surprisingly concerned now.

Would I be a 12-Year-Old forever from now on?

Or at least for decades?

The white mass did not materialize before me, even though it would have been wonderfully camouflaged.

I wanted Frila to at least be able to sleep in peace.

She was no normal girl clearly. But I had no reason to question her.

Because I was no normal half-phantom.

And she hadn't seeked the time to question me despite her unavoidable opportunities.

Instead, Vigar remained formless and whispered in my ear slowly and cautiously. It felt flat and like a shifting tide.

"Well. I had thought that your aging process would significantly slow down, but your other bloodline, the same one that halted your transformation process. It seems to have affected your constitution heavily along with the Phantom transformation. Right now, you're aging perfectly normally for a human. But when you get older, maybe around your human 25s-30s. Then your aging might just stop until you die."

I nodded in understanding.

I see.

So I would just stop aging at 25-30?

That didn't seem too bad.

Wouldn't I be able to keep my prime level of strength for so and so years then?

I thought to myself on and on before a figure trod through the door to our dome.

He brought with him, a colossal, azure boar. Its tusks were cracked by the rim.

It was an eighth of the dome.

His clothes were spotless today.

I could only see a bit of blood seeping through his sheath.

His eyes were dead-set golden as his hood lay over his face.

A somber atmosphere had settled down.

In that meal, we ate thankfully and peacefully.

No monsters came to our front door.

But there was something different about this meal.

By the time I tore the last chunk of boar-meat off, I had come to a decision.

I was tired.

Sick and tired of wearing the same torn suit for a week.

Tired of waiting for failure.

Who cares if I had a broken arm?

Sounds like a bloody excuse to me.

As Red Dragon began to head outside for look-out duty, I tugged at his robe.

It took a few tries as my fingers drifted across the soft red fabric and the fancy golden lining.

"Hey."

My voice was apprehensive and steady.

I didn't know if he would even consider my proposal.

He took half a second to look back.

Beckoning for the reasoning behind my intrusion.

"I'm coming with you tomorrow."

His eyebrows raised in a dull manner.

He pointed at my left arm slowly.

"I don't think you have the capabilities for that."

His voice was tired and gruesome.

I didn't back down, despite the invisible pressure.

"Then give me the capabilities for them."

He swiped my tugging arm away with ease. His voice emerged droning and careless.

"And why would I do tha-."

"Because I can cure you."

My concentrated vermillion eyes were consumed by a vortex as our eyes met.

His stance stopped shifting entirely.

It felt like the heat in the atmosphere had sunk down.

Leaving only a subtle wind.

His voice came out confused and depleted of emotion.

"What can you cure. I have no disease."

I chuckled lightly. It wasn't a real chuckle of course. But I needed this man on my side.

My voice went for the final push.

"You wear adventurer clothes from your old days. You still use the same sword. Your hairstyle and look is just as it was all those years ago. You haven't changed your outfit since the day you signed up as an -F- Rank."

That's right.

I had asked Frila about Red Dragon and received a suspicious heap of information.

"Red Dragon. I can cure you. I can separate you from that existence that crippled you. The man who you think you must always be. I can make you something other than an -S- Rank adventurer. I can cure you. In the place where you can't reach. In here."

I tapped my head thrice.

His eyes cautiously followed my movements.

He coughed stubbornly before giving a shifting nod.

I wanted more but he had already left into the white outside.

Well.

I suppose that went quite well.

Frila's eyebrows rose at my marketing skills.

"Smooth."

I felt a small wave of arrogance surf through my veins as I turned away humbly.

I needed rest.

Because tomorrow, would be far from restful.

For most of us at least.

I disapproved of Frila's laziness.

But I was excited, behind my wise mask.

Because how did the Red Dragon get so powerful?

And would I be able to become the Red Dragon that never got crippled?

A nice little thing to think about, I suppose.

All my emotions mixed and thrived, causing me to be confused about which direction to think in.

As my mind was bombarded with unsuspecting thoughts, I was already fast asleep.

And the next wave of the endless white was already moving.