Yael was often regarded by his peers as a man of few words. He had a bulky body and a tan skin, complementing his toned muscles and scars. His eyebrows were thick and his expression was always profound. Back in the guild, the adventurers treated him with the utmost respect. The townsfolk regarded him as a tough man who you couldn"t mess with. He was what all everyone could consider the golden standard for an adventurer—he accomplished s-rank quests without fail, and would come back triumphant in battles of different kinds. People often wondered why he was still in Alaris, a small country in the East when he could go to bigger nations that would pay him for his strength.
"I"m going to conquer a dungeon."
When he finally told his guild master about this, he received one of the prized books one could ever lay their hands upon. It was expected. Going to the dungeons were the prime of every adventurer. The people in Alaris and the members of the guild supported Yael and his party. The guild master himself let him take some pages of the book. And thanks to that book, Yael and his faction were able to come far unscathed.
It should have stayed that way—but then again, unexpected things befalling them transpired without fail. It was inevitable. Yael should have known that. Well, he thought he had. He had taken precautionary actions beforehand and thought he—and his party—were prepared for what it is to come.
Turns out, they weren"t.
""sup?" Samuel said. And with that single word, Yael snapped back from his thoughts and parried the monsters" strike.
It wasn"t long before another necromorph attacked them; Yael wielded his ax horizontally and sliced the large arm hauled by the monster. The necromorph unleashed a cry as another one after another rushed towards them. There wasn"t any time for preambles when the monsters just continuously kept on coming.
Obviously someone new had to tell who he was, but that could wait. The necromorphs Yael had sliced were just regenerating their body and would keep on attacking unscathed. At this rate, they were battling for naught. The necromorph"s flesh only kept on getting sewn back in a matter of minutes.
This wasn"t stated in the book at all. There was even an example that was dedicated to depicting their vital points. But now—these monsters before them—were immortal. They weren"t the same as before. And it wasn"t supposed to turn out like this.
Yael firmly held his ax and begun to slice the three necromorphs in a single sweep.
"Save your mana, Yael!" Pelmon exclaimed. "Arletha, we told you to keep Sam away from this—and who"re you—"
"I"m Ephraim!" says a man wearing round spectacles. He was holding a sword with odd inscriptions; from the looks of it, this was the man who Samuel was pertaining to. The fabled "leader" who was comparable to Hosea. Yael realized the preambles were done now.
"There"s no time to waste!" Ephraim says as he warded off the monsters with his sword. "I know where the last floor is!"
"Wh-what?!" Pelmon"s eyes widened, slashing the monster coming towards him. "You do?!"
Ephraim nodded. "Right now I can lead you to where it is! We just have to buy some time!"
Ephraim reflected in Yael"s eyes. A monster then impended to launch itself to Ephraim"s back, unleashing a loud battle cry. He wasn"t able to turn around quick enough to ward the necromorph off—but then, a sharp ax had slashed into the monster trying to attack Ephraim. Yael glowered at Ephraim.
"Lead the way."