"This Dungeon… we're going to tire ourselves to death moving through it . I suggest we slow down."
The shield man exhaled a breath after he finished speaking. This sort of Dungeon was the absolute worst. You wouldn't even know if you were making progress until you got to the end of the path. You could very well be fighting meaningless battles.
Brant, the shield man, was a pragmatic but simple man. Among the three choices everyone received at the start of this trial period, he picked the weapon option. However, rather than choosing a sword or a spear, he chose a shield.
His teammates often made fun of him for this. Rather than pragmatic, he was clearly far more simple. How he managed to survive after making such a silly decision was beyond them. However, there was no denying that his existence was an anchor that had saved their lives more than once.
This sort of suggestion was more than in line with his character.
"You're probably right," the spear wielding woman to his back agreed.
"What's that? An agreement?"
The woman rolled her eyes. "This time you're not being a turtle in its shell. The minions in here aren't difficult to deal with, at least not aside from their weird Skills. But who knows how big this place is? We also just fought a battle on the outside, too. It'll start adding up if we aren't more cautious."
The basilisk before them suddenly lashed out with a sharp gaze, its Aether rolling.
Brant held up his shield, a dull light pulsing from it. There was a splash of Aether across its service.
The basilisk's eyes went dim for a moment.
"Aria," he called out.
The woman's spear was already moving, sliding past Brant like a shadow and slicing a wound across the basilisk's body.
The creature reeled back, the spike of pain shaking it awake.
"Its Constitution is tough," Aria spat.
Brant pressed forward, unleashing a shield bash that added to the creature's disorientation. An echo of Aether rippled out again, sending the creature flying.
Aria followed up once again, slashing out. Her spear's strength was lacking, but its precision was top-notch. She slashed against the open wound she had created earlier, severing the creature's head from its body.
Brant walked forward and pressed a hand to the creature.
"You're right. This one had a higher Constitution than the others. There's an extra Constitution Gene."
"Are they getting tougher?"
"It's possible. In a Dungeon one, it's unlikely that their strength will remain stagnant… if not, you could probably take your sweet time beating them all."
"Mm, then we should probably hurry… I don't know if taking our time is a viable solution at this point."
Brant didn't answer immediately, his brows furrowing.
The Mentals of these creatures were too high. The only way to get a decent gauge of their stats was after defeating them and checking their Genes. That, and battle.
"There's something fishy here. According to the entry requirements, the recommended Physical is 75. Logically speaking, these minions should be nowhere near that limit, only the Final BOSS should have stats near or exceeding that," Brant said.
"You're missing something," Aria said.
"The entry limit was two."
The realization hit Brant. "Shit," he cursed.
If a Dungeon had a recommended Physical of 75, but it allowed two people to enter, then how hard would the challenges be? Would the BOSSes have 80 Physical? 90, maybe? What would the Dungeon deem appropriate? It was hard to tell. None of this even mentioned those Mental and Will requirements either.
He shook his head. "You're right. Then we have to be extra cautious."
Aria rolled her eyes again, but she didn't reject.
"Top up. We'll take a few minutes between every battle unless the situation changes. Even if their strengths are increasing, there'll be a limit to it."
Sylas hacked and wheezed as he got up, a splitting headache making him see double and triple. The dull lights of the Dungeon might as well have been darkness to him at the moment.
He knew it wouldn't be easy to take advantage of a loophole, but he didn't expect that it would knock him out in the process. That was the last thing he could afford in a place .
He had expected pain, but this was more than he had bargained for. The pain didn't even seem to want to go away, or rather, it was only retreating every so slowly.
A groan came from his lips as he picked himself up, dragging himself to the side of the basilisk corpse so that he could prop up against it.
Then he checked his stats.
[Name: Sylas Grimblade]
[Affiliation: Grimblade Lineage]
[Titles: A Flexible Will; Skill Savant (FFF+); Madness Conqueror (FF-); Common Arts Enthusiast (F-); A Patient Stalker (F-)]
[Skills: Madness Control (FF+); Basic Scouting (F-); Maddened Enlightenment (FF+)]
[Comprehensions: Madness (FFF)]
[Fragmented Genes: Grimblade Lineage (F); (8) Dexterity (F); (6) Constitution (F); (4) Strength (F)]
[Common Genes: (3) Speed (F); (4) Strength (F); (3) Constitution (F); (3) Dexterity (F); (4) Intelligence (F); (1) Wisdom (F); (1) Will (F)]
[Bronze Genes: Basic Aetherflow (F)]
[Gene Talents: Blade Aura (Unranked); Sudden Burst (F); Tail Whip (F-); Aetherflow (F+)]
The change to his Mental alleviated the spikes of pain that were being driven through his head… a little bit.
His thoughts were correct.
'If my math is correct, if my Mental had a cap of 100, then I should have had around 81 stat points of room between myself and that cap. I was just short of that, and then my Skill Savant Title kicked in, doubling the 80 stats I got from four Intelligence Genes to 160. Added to my original 45 Intelligence, that makes 205…'