Beetle Cave
Each movement forward through the claustrophobic tunnel came with a heavy exhale, a crack of knuckles, and the subtle grind of sapphire against earth. His fists, coated in fragments of conjured sapphire, punched the walls ahead of him. And with each punch, the narrow crawlspace widened just enough for his broad shoulders to squeeze through.
He didn't have the stamina for speed.
His muscles felt dense from exhaustion and that kind of deep-set fatigue that made every part of him feel as though he were moving underwater. Still, he wasn't panting. He wasn't stumbling. He was methodical, dragging his body inch by inch like a soldier that already accepted he would die but kept walking out of habit.
The deeper he went, the tighter the tunnel became. It was like the mountain itself didn't want him in.
So he forced it to..
A fist drove into the wall beside him. Sapphire-coated knuckles dug into raw stone, widening it. Every few meters, he stopped to slam his palm into the back wall and form a solid sapphire barricade, sealing the path behind him. He'd made four tactical deterrents.
Those Exo Beetles weren't mindless. They were fast. If any decided to tunnel behind him, it'd buy him a few seconds at most, maybe just enough time to react.
He didn't need more time. He just needed the chance.
The air began to change.
It was… thinner, mixed with a bitter chemical scent that hit the tongue like burnt copper and rotting leaves. His nose twitched. His lips curled.
His eyes narrowed. They had adjusted to the dark naturally. The golden glow of his irises intensified.
But it wasn't just his regular vision now.
His Mystic Eyes flared. The world ahead of him bled into a sharper spectrum of soul-density and ambient movement.
He saw an open cavern ahead, an underground chamber the size of a small village.
He crawled forward slowly now. His hands were no longer punching. They were careful, feeling the texture of the tunnel as it softened and smoothed unnaturally. As if shaped… by insect limbs.
The tunnel ended abruptly.
There was nothing beneath him. And before he could think, he dropped.
The fall wasn't long, maybe ten meters at most, but the impact was brutal. He slammed shoulder-first onto a smooth stone floor, his body rolling with the force. Dust kicked up beneath his mass, and a small pool of blood left a smear behind him from the fresh gash that opened across his collarbone from a rock.
He rose slowly, like a statue reanimating. His boots scraped against the rock, and his back straightened with a pop of vertebrae.
He froze.
He didn't even breathe.
Because the moment his senses took in the space he'd landed in, he felt them.
Dozens... no, hundreds.
And they were giants.
Each of the Exo Beetles here was easily eight meters tall, some nearly ten. Their arms were longer than spears, jointed in unnatural places, and their bodies looked like walking tanks plated in black chitin so dense it shimmered like forged alloy. Their mandibles were the size of sickles and their legs cracked as they moved, twitching constantly like they were never meant to rest.
None of them had noticed him. Yet.
His body moved before his mind even finished the thought.
"Nineteen Hours."
The enchantment flared across his skin silently before he vanished from vision.
This was Nineteen Hours, his signature stealth enchantment. It didn't just erase sight. It muffled sound, suppressed heat, dulled etheric presence, and made him practically impossible to find.
He didn't exist anymore in that cavern.
He crouched slowly, slipping behind a large stalagmite that jutted from the floor. Every step was measured, heel first, then toe. His shoulders didn't rise or fall with breath. He was as motionless as stone until he needed to shift.
His eyes scanned the area. He was in the core of their den.
A large cavern shaped like a bowl. The floor sloped inward, and in the center was a deep crater, filled with what looked like broken weapons, bones, even old armor pieces. Trophies? Feeding ground? Nursery?
He couldn't tell yet. He needed more information.
He observed.
They moved in rotational patrols. Some paced clockwise along the outer rim. Others stayed near the center. A few perched high against the walls, unmoving, perhaps sentries, perhaps dormant.
He crouched lower and muttered internally.
"Mandibles are larger. Carapace has layering with three segments. Meaning three-point vulnerability…"
His eyes narrowed as he examined one of the beetles that passed particularly close.
"Head connection to thorax looks… stitched? Surgical?"
And then he noticed it. Each Exo Beetle bore glowing lines running across their limbs. Someone had altered them and weaponized them.
His expression didn't change. But inside, his mind was already playing three dozen scenarios.
He couldn't fight. Not here. Not now.
Even with Calimostria. Even if his body was fully restored. Even with every tether in his arsenal. He wouldn't survive the first three minutes.
He didn't panic.
He just thought of exit paths, distraction points, weaknesses...
Then he noticed something strange.
In the very center of the crater, half-buried beneath bone and shell, was a crystal. It was purple-blue in color, veined, corrupted and shimmering with the same insectoid aura as the beetles.
.
"Their hive core?"
It was a theory. But if correct… it meant this crystal was central to their existence.
His lips twitched..
One foot after the other, his boots padded softly over the floor, making no sound. The Exo Beetles towered around him, twitching with unnatural spasms as they stalked through their den. They passed within a meter of him at times, some so close that the wind from their movement fluttered the folds of his tunic.
Yet none noticed.
The Nineteen Hours enchantment blanketed him like a divine shroud, pulsing faintly against his skin. It was the only thing keeping him hidden, and he knew it. The enchantment wasn't infinite, nor was it infallible. It had its lifespan, and once it burned through his reservoir, he would have a long, long two days of vulnerability before he could ever use it again.
Nineteen hours. That's all he had. So he didn't waste a single heartbeat.
The further he moved around the den, the more he felt it. His gaze flicked again toward the crystal embedded in the crater's heart.
That… thing.
It pulsed slow like a dying heartbeat. But even at a glance, it radiated absurd levels of energy; some old, some corrupted, and some so raw it crackled in the air like heat over iron.
And Vastarael… was being drawn to it.
He walked in a wide arc, carefully threading through gaps between the beetles, his eyes never leaving the crystal. With each step closer, he felt the hunger in his body pulse awake.
His Pinnacle Tether awoke. Omniphage activated silently. The effect was immediate.
His veins throbbed. His muscles tightened. His bones cracked softly as the stored energy flooded into him, not just from the den, but especially from the crystal. It was subtle, barely enough to trigger alarm… but enough to make him feel fuller than he had in days. He didn't know what it was exactly but it was too potent to ignore.
And the more he fed, the more his instincts screamed one thing.
Take the crystal.
The urge was maddening but his logic held the line.
Because if he did… he would have hundreds of Scavenger-ranked beetle humanoids on his tail, each one tall enough to crush stone with their weight alone, and coordinated enough to move as a swarm. Fighting one would be a suicide run. Fighting more?
Even hell was merciful.
So, he resisted for now. Still, a grin began to form on his face.
His mind sharpened. His steps slowed.
He began to pace around the crater more purposefully now, still invisible and silent, his hands folding behind his back like a war tactician inspecting a battlefield.
He didn't need a sword. Not yet. He didn't even need a strategy laid bare because he already had a plan.
A plan so dangerous, so outright unthinkable, that only someone as stubborn, analytical, and battle-crazed as Vastarael Richinaria would even consider it.
And as he circled the edge of the crater, feeding slowly, invisibly, and breathing in the full picture…
He smiled wider.
"Let's dance, you bastards," he whispered into the cold black.
And then he disappeared deeper into the den, fading among the shadows, marking every location in his mind, preparing.
He had nineteen hours.
And that was more than enough.