When the desolation ended, he hung there in the dark hole, controlling his breathing and preparing to ascend. If he even could.
Tanner's idea might have been for him to stay sealed down here until the hunter teams got here. They would have Tanks or at least people with high [Physicality] skill that could move the rubble and rescue him.
But that didn't calm Enkidu's mind.
What if some of his team were still alive in the rubble? He had to help them. His mission report to command was already going to be bad. His entire team got killed. Bringing one of them back alive could…
Trying to rationalise it was only making him more desperate. So instead he crawled up the hole, soot tormenting his bleeding fingers. The pain felt like a punishment for his failure.
By the time he reached the top, he was covered in sweat and gasping. Lack of oxygen. Add that to the reasons to get out of this hole.
Thankfully, breaking the stone barrier that Tanner used to seal this hole would be easy. The skill infused into that magic tool generated stone barriers that were resistant to shattering on the outside, but softer on the inside.
"He was never much of a thinker, but I hoped Tanner planned this, too," he muttered to himself.
He balanced precariously at the top of the hole. Left hand against one wall, two legs spread wide against the other side. Then, with his right hand, he slowly carved a hole into the stone cover, sword cleaving through it with relative ease.
Having an Elite-tier sword in this kind of situation was a blessing. "Thank you, Lyra."
But having powerful ears was even better. While he cut through the top, he could hear the shifting stones above the barrier.
If he weakened the barrier too much, then he would be killed under falling rubble or, even worse, trapped. The idea scared him, but hiding down here scared him more for some reason.
So he cut out a small hole first. After some incisions, a portion of the stone fell through completely with a waterfall of dust and debris.
Enkidu brought his face close to the hole and blew some air up the hole. He could sense the flow of air through gaps in the rubble. For a moment, he realised how insane that sounded. But he pulled his mind back to the hole.
"Tight, but just enough space to crawl through if I dislocate my shoulder," said Enkidu casually.
Bracing himself, he climbed to the top of the shaft and then stuffed one of his handkerchiefs into his mouth to bite on. This would hurt.
Then, he let his body drop while holding on to his sword.
A loud pop echoed in the dark hole, along with Enkidu's muffled gasps of pain. "My appetite for pain is a bit low right now," he hissed after removing the cloth.
Suffering aside, he blinked the stars out of his eyes and then pulled himself up with his right arm. "This will work."
Getting to the top of the hole wasn't easy with two good arms, but with just one, the danger of falling to a more painful injury was greater.
"I prefer survival over safety, anyway," he muttered at his thoughts.
He squeezed himself through the small hole in the barrier and then through the gaps in the rubble. It was a gruelling and demoralizing journey.
His shoulder was folded in, sending blinding pain through his body, while dust blanketed his eyes. And the thought of being crushed between shifting rubble, or trapped in the claustrophobic nightmare tormented him the entire way.
Shimming to the top of the rubble, he reached a dead end. "It would be nice if things could just be easy sometimes."
Not that he ever expected anything to be easy.
After struggling to get his sword up, he began stabbing at the top of the stone. From the sound of his sword striking the stone, there weren't any more rocks after this.
He could get out. Find the others. Help them.
Dust covered his face, robbing him of sight and choking his breath. But he kept striking that point, years of discipline and suffering gave him the tools. If he couldn't use them, then he deserved to die here.
Stone gave way to steel before his lungs gave way to asphyxiation, and Enkidu squeezed his bruised and aching body out of the tight space.
After dry coughing up some dust, his burning lungs took in the fresh air with relief.
He made it. But the job wasn't done yet. After cleaning the dust from his face, he began listening for the sound of breathing or heartbeats. He searched the rubble around the hole, using his sword as a lever to move the debris.
All he caught glimpses of were charred bodies and blood. The only sound in the desolate cavern was his ragged breath.
Finally, the whole thing crashed down on him, driving him to his knees, hyperventilating. He knew. He had known all along.
The level of his [Perception] skill was still unknown since he was unawakened, but he probably had the highest known to any normal human.
And it was even stronger at sensing living things.
He knew they were all dead the moment the Firespitters came. Burnt alive before the cavern even fell. But he climbed here either way, because that was what he had been taught.
He wanted to find survivors, maybe even try to lessen the backlash he would receive for this mission.
Tanner's sacrifice had been forgotten. All that mattered was the mission and his own ego. Everyone was dead the moment the first Firespitter found them.
But they had to fight. Even if they were just children. Because they were also soldiers.
He was a soldier.
His breath slowed. Then, his senses expanded around him. It was faint, but he could hear more FIrespitters coming. They were hive-like, and after such a large-scale loss, they would send small groups to investigate.
First, he needed to reset his shoulder and then try to meet up with the reinforcements sent by command.
He avoided wondering why they weren't still here because it was irritating, choosing to stuff the cloth into his mouth again.
He walked to a vertical stone wall. "Lots of pain today," he murmured.
Body trembling, he set the bone and braced himself before slamming his shoulder into the rock. For a second, his mind reeled, pain numbed him like a shock. When it faded from his magenta eyes, he rose to his feet and began walking, leaving behind his comrades.
What was lost was lost. That was something his mother hammered into him over the years. First, the mission was to survive.
Forget the years spent together, seeing their worst and best. That was all over now.
Tanner would never joke again, he would see Franky's moody frown ever again, he wouldn't get the chance to help Donald out ever again, he…
"Stop!" he snapped to himself in a low voice.
After squeezing through two rocks, he reached the uncollapsed portions of the dungeon.
The sound of more Firespitters coming reached him not long after. He drew his sword with a hiss and marched forward.
It didn't sound like more than three. And he welcomed the desire to dismember some monsters.