The morning air still hung low like a fog refusing to lift. The cold seeped from the stone slowly, clinging to Clive's skin until it felt like a thin layer of unmelted frost. Every breath filled his lungs with a heavy air tinged with the scent of metal. The outer corridor of the processing gate echoed with the steps of two groups standing face to face, as if the entire space were a giant lung holding its breath.
Clive shifted his shoulders slightly, testing the tension running from his neck down to his waist. The sensation of energy from the core still felt like a hot iron wheel beginning to rotate, scraping the inside of his body with a steady, cold rhythm. The new instinct clinging to him felt like another eye opening behind his skull, watching every direction without rest.
He counted his breaths. Counted his heartbeat. Counted the pressure under his feet.
Ted stood on his right. His breaths were short but steady, like a small piston working in silence. The muscles in his arm flexed subtly each time he readjusted his grip on his sword.
Zorilla rolled his shoulders. The tendons in his neck tightened, his movements slow and without pause.
Meanwhile, Dorde adjusted his stance, his weight leaning slightly to the right, a leftover habit from recovering from his injury.
Glenn's group approached from the other side. They moved in a tight formation. Their steps were synchronized, as if their hearts beat to the same rhythm. No unnecessary sounds. No wasted movements. Glenn led at the front, his gaze straight and empty like stone, yet sharp like a blade buried in snow.
Clive and Glenn exchanged looks. No spark of emotion. Only measurement. Two predators assessing the space they would enter together.
A guard appeared behind the metal door. His voice cracked like gravel being crushed in a throat.
"Today's task is different."The words fell like a weight of iron."You enter together. One team."
He offered no explanation. No reason. He simply turned around and walked away.
Silence crept back in. The air, once merely cold, grew heavier, as if it were slowly being compressed. Clive noticed a slight shift in posture from Glenn's group. A small enough change to show they were evaluating his group. Measuring potential. Calculating threat. The pressure scraped at Clive's skin like fingernails barely touching the surface.
Ted was the first to break the silence."Working together, huh. Interesting."
One of Glenn's members snorted."You are loud."
Zorilla turned his head slowly."You want to repeat that?"
Glenn made a very small gesture with his hand, but it was enough to halt his entire group."Arguing is pointless."He looked at Clive."Do you agree?"
Clive nodded once."We will see the situation inside."
"We determine the core based on contribution," Glenn added.
Dorde smirked faintly."You planning to count while fighting?"
Glenn only gave him a brief glance before looking back at Clive."The question is simple. Can your group keep up with our rhythm or not?"
Something tightened inside Clive. Not emotion. Not anger. More like an internal system processing a threat with new sensitivity. He lowered his shoulders slightly."We can."
"Good." Glenn made a small signal."We take the front. You guard the flanks and rear. Do not break formation."
Clive's group moved without needing orders.
Ted to the right.Zorilla to the left.Dorde covering the back.
Their formation locked with Glenn's formation like two metal components forcibly fixed together.
The metal gate began to move. The grinding sound dropped deep and heavy, echoing along the stone walls. Light from the corridor seeped out like gray mist. The smell that followed clung to Clive's throat. The smell of dried blood, rotting flesh, and something sour like old rust.
They entered.
The first corridor was filled with monster corpses.
The bodies lay in various positions, yet their wounds were consistent. Clean cuts. Precise slashes. No ragged tears or wild strikes. The wounds did not resemble chaotic combat. More like surgical work. Or execution.
The weapons of Glenn's group.The way Glenn and his members killed.
Clive watched Glenn walk past the bodies. He did not avoid the corpses. He stepped on them, letting the cracking of bones sound beneath his boots. No reaction on his face. Only cold efficiency.
Ted muttered,"Damn. This is a slaughter."
Zorilla said nothing. His breathing shortened. His rhythm changed. Clive heard it clearly. Zorilla's body was ready to fight.
Something in the corridor shifted.
The silence that had rested like a thin blanket suddenly fractured. The monsters that had been busy tearing flesh, pulling intestines, or biting each other froze as if a single signal pierced the air. Their jaws locked. Their heads lifted at once. Their small red eyes glowed like embers touched by wind. Their pupils shrank into sharp points. The sour stench of their breath intensified.
A low growl rose in unison.
Then they attacked.
The first wave came without pause. The attacks were not sequential. Not random. Three monsters leaped toward Glenn's group. Two from the left side with bodies twisting fast. Another emerged from below, sliding out of a pile of corpses as if rising from a pit of wet earth.
Dilos moved faster than breath. One slash took off the head of the first monster. His movement didn't stop there; he rotated his hips and the second slash shattered the shoulder of the next monster. Two chunks of flesh flew, falling almost at the same time with a wet thud.
Glenn stepped forward by one pace. His thrust was straight. The monster's mouth was pierced fully. The tip of the sword emerged from the back of its skull with a sound like thin stone being split. Glenn pulled his sword back with a small motion. The monster's body fell before its blood even had the chance to spurt.
Clive felt a faint vibration travel from the floor into his shin as the bodies collapsed. The vibration triggered an instinct inside him. There was no room for long thought.
One monster lunged from the side. Its movement was low, fast, and without any predictable pattern. But Clive's body moved first. His weight shifted in a single subtle transfer. A change of angle that cut through the creature's attack path. His left hand caught the creature's neck. His grip tightened. There was a clear crack. A dry sound that sunk into the skin.
The monster went limp before it could scream.
On the other side, Ted cut down two monsters that ambushed from the front. His sword no longer swung wildly like last week. There was a clear line in every strike. Arm muscles tensed and released in an efficient rhythm. Ted drew a short breath.
"Their number is higher than usual."
He didn't look left or right. Only shifted his footing and waited for another attack.
Zorilla caught a monster in midair with his bare hand. He grabbed the creature's wrist and yanked it forcefully. The creature's body slammed into the stone wall. The wall trembled. The monster's bones cracked loudly. Zorilla smashed its head once more, ensuring no movement remained. His breathing was rough but steady.
Dorde spotted two small monsters crawling out from beneath the corpses. His body lowered slightly. His gaze locked on them. The first sword pierced the throat of the first creature. The second sword moved right and crushed the eye of the second. He didn't waste time checking the result.
Glenn's group pushed forward like a machine designed for a single function. They broke through the wave of monsters without losing rhythm. Each step produced a new corpse. Every slash had a clear purpose. No wasted movement. No shouting.
Clive followed their movements. He saw how Glenn and the others were unaffected by blood splashes or the stench. They killed with an efficiency that made the corridor feel too narrow to contain the aftermath.
In a few minutes, the corridor fell silent again.
No monster moved. No breath except the human ones recalibrating their rhythm. The air around them was warm from the steam rising off the freshly dead bodies.
Clive stood amid the pile of corpses. He felt energy moving slowly from his core. His muscles felt denser. His reflexes sharper. His blood pressure steady. He could feel his skin harden subtly every time a cold draft touched it.
Ted rotated his sword, letting the blood drip onto the floor."You see that. Monsters here are much easier to kill now."
Zorilla looked at his palm as if searching for a tremor that wasn't there."We are the ones who changed."
Dorde nodded."Yeah. Clearly."
Clive remained silent. The corridor was dead quiet, but there was another faint sound from inside his body. A sound like an extra pulse that wasn't made by his heart. An instinct from the core working like a system evaluating threats without involving emotion.
Glenn sheathed his sword and looked at Clive."Your group is not bad."
Clive looked back."Not what you expected."
Glenn didn't answer immediately. His eyes shifted forward to the second corridor waiting like a dark mouth not yet fully open."Let's continue. Corridor two."
Ted gripped his sword more tightly."Hope one of them has a core."
Zorilla took a deep breath."We'll find out."
Dorde tapped the sword hilt with his finger to make sure the grip stayed stable."I'm ready."
They moved again.
Eight steps. In unison. The sound of their boots echoed against the stone walls like a dragged-out echo.
Behind them, the first corridor was filled with corpses not yet cold.Full of proof that something inside them had changed permanently.
Ahead of them, the second corridor waited.