Noel reached into the side pocket of his sack and retrieved a blade. The handle curled subtly inward—just enough that the grip naturally cradled his pinky, keeping the weapon snug against his palm. A craftsman's touch. It wasn't ornate, but it was personal: balanced, utilitarian, dependable. It wore a thin leather sheath, scuffed and stained with old grime, the kind of wear that only came from daily use, not neglect.
"Hup," Noel grunted as he rolled the war shadow's corpse over. Its weight resisted him at first—he had to brace a knee against its hip before finally getting it onto its back with a thud. Lifeless and still, its chest now faced the dim ceiling of the dungeon chamber.
Up close, the war shadow looked less like a creature and more like something manufactured. "Is this… even skin?" Noel muttered, narrowing his eyes. The surface was slick and glossy, like tree sap hardened under pressure. It had a faint, smoky sheen—like obsidian that had been polished, then dulled again with age and blood.
He reached for a rock nearby—fist-sized, jagged—and began hammering away at the chest plate. The sound rang loud and sharp through the chamber.
Crack!
Crack!
Crunch!
The fractured shell finally began to give, spider-webbing under repeated blows. With his blade sheathed and his hands stinging from impact, Noel knelt to pick away the remaining shards. They peeled like rotten bark, revealing a tacky underlayer that stuck slightly to his gloves.
"...weird," he murmured. The inner material wasn't even hardened. It felt like the entire outer layer had been coated in some secretion that hardened after death. He peeled it further, revealing faint patterns,tiny pores dotting the rib-like frame. A slow realization crept into his voice. "Probably where that weird mist comes from…"
From the shadows behind him, a familiar voice chimed in.
"Not quite right," Renault called out, casually as if critiquing a botched recipe.
Noel glanced over his shoulder, eyebrow twitching. "What? Isn't it humanoid? Shouldn't the magic stone be where the heart is?"
Renault tilted his head thoughtfully. "That's usually the case, but not always. Some humanoid monsters don't keep their organs where you'd expect. Evolution's weird like that. War shadows are all over the place internally."
Noel groaned, running a hand through his hair. "You could've told me before I cracked it open like a walnut."
Renault just chuckled and shrugged. "Where's the fun in that?"
Before Noel could reply, Renault crouched beside the corpse. He pressed his hand firmly against the lower abdomen—then, with a sudden crunch, drove his fingers in like it was soaked clay.
Noel stared, blinking in disbelief.
Renault's arm vanished up to the wrist. He braced a foot against the creature's body, twisted slightly, then yanked.
Squelch.
A wet rip echoed out, followed by a slap as a bundle of glistening organs hit the stone floor. Nestled among the viscera, a glowing magic stone pulsed faintly like a dying ember.
"Gotcha," Renault said cheerily.
Noel didn't answer. His eyes weren't on the crystal. They were on Renault's hand—the arm that had torn through a monster's shell like it was paper.
That strength…
It looked so easy for him. Too easy. He traced the gore-spattered trail of organs with a quiet unease, then looked down at his own raw, throbbing knuckles. His fingers still ached from hammering away at the shell. The difference between them wasn't in technique, it was in raw power. Inhuman power.
"Did you level up before we came in?" he asked dryly.
Renault raised an eyebrow, surprised by the seriousness in his voice. "No, not yet. But I should soon—after joining Hermes."
He scratched his cheek, glancing skyward with a smile. "Maybe I'll even get a skill."
Noel said nothing more. He moved to the next corpse, drawing his blade. Without Renault's raw force, he had to be methodical. Every cut mattered. He sliced cleanly through the hardened exterior, carving with careful control. The knife wasn't just useful—it was essential for butchering.
Thick-spined for strength, curved for leverage, the blade moved surgically. It stayed steady even when his gloves were slick with blood and gore. He'd saved up a week. Worth every valis.
Another crystal came free with a clean tug. The corpse beneath it dissolved into ash and sticky pulp.
Not far off, another body crumpled.
Renault again. He didn't stop—didn't even slow. His movements weren't flashy, but they were efficient. Brutal. He carved through war shadows like they didn't even exist, leaving a trail of corpses in his wake.
Noel wiped sweat from his brow, panting. His sack was growing heavier with each stone, his shoulders straining under the weight.
"You okay?" he asked between breaths.
Renault glanced over. His armor was streaked with blood, several shallow cuts tracing his arms and neck. He still grinned.
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" he said, tossing a magic stone up and catching it.
Noel gave a faint smile in return. "Shall we continue?"
Renault's eyes scanned the chamber. Then, he shook his head. "No. We should turn back. That's enough for today."
But Noel stepped forward. "We still need more."
Renault's brow furrowed. "We've already got enough to last the week."
"That's not enough. What if Hermes backs out? What if the Soma Familia finds out?"
The mood shifted. Renault's smile faded. "What are you implying?"
"We need enough to lay low if things go bad."
Renault crossed his arms. "Then we come back tomorrow. Or the next day."
"I'm not waiting a week," Noel snapped.
"Oi. Calm down. You're acting reckless."
Noel's voice dropped, but his eyes—burning burgundy—only sharpened. "That's easy for you to say. You've got Hermes. I've got Soma. You asked me to risk everything. Now you won't help me build a fallback?"
Renault's expression darkened. "I said I'd help over the week."
"And I need that help now." Noel stepped closer, voice low and clipped. "The moment I agreed to your plan, I became a traitor. If they find out, they'll make me drink the wine. The only reason they've held back is because I'm still useful."
Renault stiffened. The implication hit like a punch to the gut.
"And money fixes that?"
"Partly," Noel replied. "Soma might be willing to let me go if there's enough incentive. Quietly, behind Zanis' back. Hermes could probably sever your Falna clean, but me? I'm a bargaining chip."
"...Zanis," Renault muttered, more to himself.
"Exactly." Noel's voice was a blade now. "Soma's not the problem. Zanis won't let go of his grip. He's already wary of me—because I'm not part of his little wine cult."
Renault grimaced, clenching his fists. "He wouldn't… stop a buyout just to spite you."
Noel laughed bitterly. "You think I'm cheap? You said I had talent, right? That means I'm worth something. To him, I'm not a person. I'm an investment. And he'll price me out of reach just to prove it. There's no spite involved, just greed."
Silence stretched.
Renault's shoulders tensed. His gaze lowered, breath shallow. Then, slowly—deliberately—he spoke.
"Then we kill him."
The words rang like steel on stone.
Noel blinked, stunned. "...Did you just say that?"
Even Renault looked a little surprised.
Did he?
"Hmm…"
Noel mulled it over aloud, brow furrowed.
"We'd need to hire an assassin—someone around mid-level 2. Cheaper, sure, but the risk would skyrocket. The better plan is scraping together enough money today and getting Soma to agree while Zanis is out."
Renault didn't respond immediately. His face darkened.
"No…" he muttered, turning his head away. "Just forget I said that."
The flash of malice was jarring—not because of the thought itself, but because it came from Renault. The senior who usually grinned through danger, who made light of even the most dire moments. Noel hadn't expected him to entertain the idea of killing another man so casually.
Noel blinked, then gave a simple shrug and nod. He wouldn't press it.
A quiet settled between them. Noel occasionally scanned the surroundings, half out of habit, half out of discomfort. Strangely, the dungeon offered no interruptions—no monsters, no tremors. As if it were being polite, letting them talk.
Then—
"Ah!"
Renault gasped, snapping Noel out of his thoughts.
"What?" Noel asked, half-reaching for his weapon.
But Renault turned to him, face lit with excitement, eyes shining like he'd just solved a riddle.
"You have magic!"
Noel blinked. "...Yeah?"
He already knew where this was going. Still, he let Renault run with it. Better to let him talk himself out of another half-baked plan before it festered.
Renault raised a hand for emphasis.
"We just find another god—someone with resources—and get them to invest in you! With your talent? Easy. Hermes might even have someone in mind. He's connected."
There it was.
A clean solution. Too clean.
"It won't work," Noel said flatly.
Renault's enthusiasm faltered.
"The moment Zanis realizes I'm worth something, he'll drive the price up," Noel explained. "He'll extort the god, bleed them dry if he thinks they care enough. And if they back off?"
He shook his head.
"I'm the one who gets punished."
Renault clenched his jaw. "That…!"
"Zanis doesn't care about balance or reason. If he smells profit, he'll squeeze until there's nothing left. And that's if a god wealthy enough wants to spend their political capital on someone like me."
Noel met Renault's gaze.
"Who would gamble their status for a no-name adventurer from a cursed familia?"
Renault's shoulders slumped, like the hope had been physically knocked out of him.
"That damned Zanis…" he growled through clenched teeth.
He turned his back to Noel.
"What do we even do…?" he murmured, voice low, almost ashamed.
For a moment, Noel just looked at him. Something flickered in his eyes—humor? No. it was a bit more mirthful.
A hazy smile crept onto his face.
"We clear the floor," Noel said softly. "There are still war shadows crawling around. I've got four potions left—if I help you draw their attention, we can take down enough of them to make a difference."
Renault tilted his head slightly, not turning back. "Ah…"
"You said you didn't want me stuck in the Soma Familia, right?"
Noel took a step forward, then another, until he was standing just behind him.
"That's right," Renault answered, voice tight. His fists were clenched.
Noel rose to his tiptoes and leaned close, close enough to whisper into his ear.
His voice was sweet, intimate.
"Then save me."
-----------------------
Sorry for taking so long to drop the chapter.
Anyways, this chap is further exploring the circumstances of the two and their dynamic.
it's nearly 11 pm so there's probably some spelling mistake i missed out on.