The two days it took to reach the location of the second artifact were a tense, suffocating journey through the heart of Zone C.
The endless twilight of the forest deepened here.
The canopy of bruised-purple leaves was so thick that it felt like they were walking along the bottom of a deep, dark ocean.
Strange, glowing fungi pulsed with a soft, sickly light on the trunks of ancient trees, casting their faces in eerie, shifting colors.
The air was cool and damp, heavy with the smell of decay and wet earth.
There was a real sense of being watched, not by monsters that would charge and attack, but by something older, more patient, and much more sinister.
His team walked in a tight, disciplined formation, the memory of the orc battle still fresh in their minds.
The easy friendship of their first days was long dead, replaced by a weary, professional tension. They trusted his commands, but they no longer trusted the world, or perhaps, even each other.
The rivalry between Erica and Lana was a constant, simmering pot threatening to boil over. Lana, true to her nature, was a constant presence at his side.
Her conversation was a dizzying mix of playful flirting, dark humor, and thinly veiled threats aimed at anyone else who got too close.
Erica, in response, had become a silent storm.
She walked on his other side, her face a mask of cold fury, her hands often sparking with embers of contained rage whenever Lana's laughter rang out too close to his ear.
'It was exhausting, but it kept them focused on me, and that was exactly what I wanted.'
Talia was a ghost, her movements silent, her new daggers a constant, deadly promise.
Edgar, his loyal, unaware lamb, walked near the back, his eyes constantly scanning their surroundings. His trust in Dante was so absolute it was almost sad.
He believed he was a valued member of a team of heroes. He had no idea he was simply a resource Dante was allowing to grow before the harvest.
After two days of this heavy quiet, the map led them to the edge of a cliff.
Below them lay a vast, sunken caldera, a massive bowl carved into the earth.
At its center, shrouded in a thick, rolling mist, was a huge, underground lake. The water was as black and still as polished obsidian, reflecting no light.
In the very center of this dark mirror, a small, crumbling island rose from the depths, crowned by the ruins of what looked like a single, ornate stone pagoda.
That was their destination.
"The Ring of the Maelstrom," Dante said, his voice echoing slightly in the vast, silent space. "It's in that pagoda."
"How do we get there?" Eric asked, peering over the edge. "We can't climb down, and even if we could, we can't swim that."
"There's a path," Talia noted, pointing with the tip of one of her new daggers. "There. A stone path, just under the surface."
She was right. A narrow, winding stone path, slick with moss and age, snaked its way from the base of the cliff out toward the central island.
It was almost completely underwater, with only the highest points breaking the surface of the black water.
As they climbed down into the caldera, the air grew colder, the smell of rot and stagnant water getting stronger.
Splash.
The moment their boots touched the first stone of the path, the lake came alive. The still, black surface began to ripple, then churn.
Shapes moved beneath the water, large, fast, and utterly silent.
"Edgar," Dante commanded.
"Abyssal Lurkers!" he yelped, his voice cracking as a massive, reptilian head surfaced fifty feet away, its six glowing green eyes fixing on them. "Rank C! Extremely high speed in water, armored hide!"
"They attack with harpoon-like tongues and can drag their prey under to drown and crush them! They're… they're ambush predators!"
As if on cue, a dozen more heads broke the surface.
Their collective gaze turned the water into a field of glowing, evil emeralds.
They weren't attacking. They were waiting. They knew the path was a bottleneck, a perfect kill zone.
"We can't fight them in the water," Edgar stated, his hand gripping his sword. "They have every advantage."
"We won't fight them on their terms," Dante said, his mind already several steps ahead, the pieces of his manipulation falling perfectly into place. "We will fight them on mine."
He turned to the team, his face a mask of grim, reluctant determination. "A direct attack is suicide. They will pick us off one by one. We need a distraction."
"A massive, sustained distraction on one side of the lake, something that will draw the attention of the entire nest. While they are busy, a small, fast team will make a dash for the pagoda along the path."
"I can do it," Erica said immediately, her hands already glowing with fire. "A massive fireball will get their attention."
"No," Dante countered, shaking his head. "Your fire is powerful, but it's an explosion. A momentary flash. We need something continuous, something that churns the water and creates a constant threat they can't ignore. Lana?"
She spun her staff. "I can smash the water, make some big splashes."
"Also not enough," he said dismissively. "It won't hold their attention. My puppets are useless here; they'd be dragged under in seconds."
He paused, letting the weight of their problem settle over them. He let them feel the hopelessness, the lack of options.
Then, he played his card.
"The ring," he said, his voice heavy with faked reluctance. "The Ring of the Maelstrom. Its power is to create a water whirlpool. It's the perfect tool for the job. It's the only tool for the job."
Talia's eyes lit up. "That's brilliant, Dante! I can use it! Or Edgar!"
He looked at her, his expression one of deep, sorrowful regret. "You can't," he said softly. "The artifact description says it consumes the wearer's mana to sustain the whirlpool. A lot of mana."
"A non-fighter like you or Edgar… you'd be drained in seconds. The whirlpool would collapse before the team was even halfway there."
He looked around at his team, at their strong but limited fighters. "I have the largest mana pool. It's the only way. It has to be me."
He let the meaning hang in the air.
He, their leader, would have to take on the most dangerous role.
He would have to use the very artifact they were trying to get, use up his own power, and leave himself completely vulnerable, all so they could succeed.
It was the perfect picture of a self-sacrificing hero.
Edgar looked at him with shining eyes, his chest swelling with admiration for his noble sacrifice.
Erica and Lana both looked fiercely protective, ready to argue, to offer themselves in his place, but they knew he was right. His logic was flawless.
"It's settled," Dante said, cutting off any potential arguments. "I will create the distraction. Talia, Lana, Erica, you are the retrieval team."
"Talia, you are the fastest. You grab the relic. Lana and Erica, you are her shield. Protect her at all costs."
"Everyone else, you form a defensive perimeter here. Protect me while I am channeling."
He walked to the edge of the stone path, his team parting before him. He looked out at the dark, churning water. "Let's begin."
He focused his will, not on his puppets, but on the raw mana within him. He poured it out, not as a weapon, but as a lure.
"Here, you monsters!" he yelled, his voice echoing across the caldera. "Come and get me!"
The Lurkers, drawn by the massive spike of energy, began to converge on his position. As they drew near, he gave the signal. "Now!"
The retrieval team shot off like a bullet down the path.
At the same instant, he focused on the water fifty yards to his left.
He imagined a vortex, a swirling, churning wound in the fabric of the lake. He didn't have the ring yet, so he had to use his own raw power, a massive, inefficient drain that sold the lie of his coming exhaustion.
The water began to spin, slowly at first, then faster and faster, forming a deep, gurgling whirlpool that began to pull at the surrounding water with immense force.
The Lurkers, confused and enraged by this unnatural event, turned their attention to it. Their predatory instincts screamed at them that this churning vortex was a threat, a danger far greater than the small figures running across the path.
The girls were magnificent. Lana used her staff as a vaulting pole, launching herself over broken sections of the path.
Erica fired small, precise firebolts, not to kill, but to startle any Lurker that got too close.
And Talia… Talia was a blur, her feet seeming to float over the slick stones, her new daggers held in a reverse grip, ready for any threat.
They reached the pagoda. Inside, on a pedestal, was not one, but two items. The Ring of the Maelstrom, a simple silver band with a single, sapphire-blue gem, and a small, leather-bound bracer.
Talia didn't hesitate. She snatched them both.
"We have them!" she yelled.
"Fall back!" Dante commanded.
As they began their retreat, he made his performance convincing. He let out a loud, pained groan, stumbling to one knee.
"I can't… hold it… much longer!" he gasped, letting a trickle of blood drip from his nose for dramatic effect.
Drip.
The whirlpool faltered, and the Lurkers, sensing their chance, turned their attention back to the causeway.
But it was too late.
The girls were already halfway back. They sprinted the rest of the way, reaching the safety of the cliff base just as he let the whirlpool collapse completely.
They were victorious.
Talia handed him the ring and the bracer. The bracer was a simple Guardian's Vambrace, an item that slightly increased defensive capabilities.
A useful, but minor, prize. He handed it to Edgar. "For your bravery," he said. Edgar accepted it with a look of pure, devoted worship.
Then, Dante looked at the ring. The Ring of the Maelstrom. He slid it onto his finger. A cool, soothing energy flowed into him.
He could feel its power, the way it connected to his mana, ready to turn his will into a churning vortex.
"Dante, are you alright?" Erica asked, rushing to his side.
"I'm… exhausted," he breathed, leaning heavily on her for support. "The mana drain… it was more than I expected."
They all looked at him with a mixture of awe and deep concern. Their leader had sacrificed his own strength for their success.
He had faced down a nest of monsters and won them a powerful artifact.
Dante leaned on Erica, letting her and Lana guide him away from the lake, his expression one of heroic fatigue. But inside, he was laughing.
The truth was, creating the whirlpool with his own vast mana pool had been easy. The ring's mana use was easily manageable. He had barely broken a sweat.
He now had an incredibly powerful defensive artifact, a tool that could protect him from almost any physical attack. And no one would ever question why he was the one to keep it.
They had been manipulated into giving him exactly what he wanted, and they now revered him for the "sacrifice" he had made. The harvest, once again, was all his.