Chapter 184: Suffer To Find Purpose
They were fucked. At least that was the thought running through Lynn's head. Pressing her hands against Synapse's back, his blood warm against her palms.
The broodling had been caught off guard by a vent bug. His level was the lowest among those fighting, and even a glancing hit from its carapace had thrown him down and peeled his back open. Good thing Panic's sickle found the thing before it could do worse.
'Stay still! I can't heal you properly if you keep moving!'
She grabbed Synapse by the shoulder and pulled him back.
'Apologies, but if the brood cannot hold back this wave, then all is lost. Please do your best while I move. Remaining still until you finish is not acceptable.'
He raised his rifle and fired again, the recoil ripping through him. The motion tore the wound wider, fresh blood spilling out in clouds.
Feed from the lessers had slowed. Their feast had been cut off by the swarm of vent bugs. Any real healing now fell to Lynn, no matter how tired her arms felt.
So far, this dungeon run had been a nightmare. She had tried to stay steady, keeping her fear buried, but the level of this place pressed down on her. Every enemy carried an aura that made her feel small…weak.
The only thing keeping her moving was behind her.
Seo-jin.
She didn't look back, but she could feel him there, heavy and constant. If it was for him, she would keep going.
Even if it killed her.
'Is there anything I can do?'
Her new shadow, Sin, watched Synapse's back closely, eyes tracking how Lynn's aura wrapped around the torn flesh, forcing it to knit.
She glanced at him, then pulled one hand away. System light filled her palm until several vials formed in her grip.
'Hold on to these. Give them out when I say.'
Sin took them with care while he studied the golden liquid inside.
'What are they?'
'Health—goddammit—health pots!'
She snapped her hand back to Synapse, pressing in as the wound pulled tighter. His spine was almost covered again, but the broodling jerked forward to fire at a Makara that got too close.
'A little more...there! Done!'
Her hands dropped. She lifted one again and drank from another vial she had summoned, the liquid sliding down her throat. This time Sin noticed it was pink.
'What's that one?'
'Mana pot.'
She tossed the empty vial aside, sucked in a breath through her gills, and scanned the area, eyes moving fast—
'Shit—come on!'
She kicked off hard. Sin followed right behind, arms tight with the vials, keeping pace with quick strokes of his legs and tail.
He glanced back, catching sight of Tomb and Fang standing near the Broodfather's orb. Then, from out of nowhere, the silt around them shifted, pushed outward as if something large had suddenly moved.
By the time he and Lynn reached her target, she was already moving, hands pressing into Widow's legs. An eel had taken both clean off, leaving jagged ends drifting in the water.
'Give her one!'
Sin moved fast, passing a health pot to his sister. She didn't hesitate. She shoved the whole vial into her mouth and bit down with a crunch. Luckily lynn didn't notice. She was focused on the wound, guiding flesh as it pushed outward and reformed. Chitin resisted more than skin, forcing her to lean in, hands steady.
'You should stay back! Let the others take frontline!'
Widow hurled her javelin. It cut through the water and slammed into a Makara's skull before flashing back into her hand. She turned and grabbed Lynn by the shoulder.
'What are you—?!'
'Hold still!'
Her palms split as she held them just over Lynn. [Broodguard Silk] activated.
Thick strands shot out, wrapping around Lynn's body. The fibers tightened, forming a layered shell of spidersilk armor. As soon as it set, Widow reached to Sin and wrapped him the same way.
'Let's fall back, I don't want you two getting hurt!'
Without waiting for a reply, she grabbed them both and kicked back through the water. She stopped only when something ahead made her pause.
A pack of Vent Bugs had broken through, rushing straight for Tomb and Fang. Just before they reached them, every bug locked in place. Their legs twitched, bodies straining, high-pitched screeches cutting through the water, but something she couldn't see held them there.
Pinned and unable to move, they became easy targets. Bile rushed in and crushed each skull with a single punch, the impacts dull and wet. On the last one, crimson light burst from him as he leveled, his aura flaring as he launched toward another bug.
Widow set Sin and Lynn down beside the orb, the heat from it brushing against their skin. She turned back immediately, her javelin flashing out and striking into enemies without warning.
Keeping her hands up, Lynn continued healing. Sin watched closely and noticed her skin starting to pale, her movements slowing. Bit by bit, her aura thinned, flickering at the edges.
At this rate, she would collapse long before the fight ended.
'You should slow down. You're pushing too hard.'
'Don't worry about me. I'm fine.'
'But your aura—'
'I'm fine!'
Sin flinched but he watched her keep working, forcing her hands steady as they shook. Seeing her push past her limits, risking everything to keep healing, stirred something in him.
Was this what being a healer meant? To spend yourself for others?
Seeing the intent in the human's eyes, the way her hands didn't stop even as they trembled, something tight formed in his chest. He needed to know.
'Human, I am new, so I don't understand. Why do you follow us? Why risk your life for the brood?'
But it wasn't Lynn who answered.
He blinked as Widow laughed, the sound twisted even through the water.
'It's not for us, newbie. It's for love. Love for the Broodfather!'
Her legs fully restored, Widow surged forward, aura flaring as she spun. Webbing shot from her thorax, strands snapping tight as they caught and slowed anything they touched.
His sister's words hit him harder than the fight. He looked to Lynn and saw it land the same way. Her cheeks flushed as she pulled another pink vial and drank, her throat working as she swallowed.
'Love...'
The word came out thin, wrong in his mouth. The concept felt brittle. But when he looked at her again, saw her aura steady and her eyes lock back onto the wounded, something shifted.
Her love wasn't weak.
It held her up. It drove her.
Then what did he have?
Something started to take shape in his thoughts, rough and unfinished. Sin fixed his attention on her. He would stay with this human and watch everything she did, down to her last breath.
'Stop staring at me.'
'No.'
She shook her head, breath coming hard, shoulders rising and falling. Her eyes kept moving, snapping from broodling to human and back again without pause. She was spent. She was scared. But her hands lifted again, ready.
The fight between the Brood and the Makara forces continued, seemingly without end.
The first rush was gone. The chaos didn't stop, but it found a rhythm. Movements tightened. Positions held. The line stopped breaking.
And something unseen moved through it.
Grimm.
No one called it out, but the shift was there. Vent Bugs lunged and missed. Strikes went wide. Bodies froze for half a second too long, just enough for an attack to land. The pressure on the Brood didn't lift, but it stopped crushing.
A stalemate.
His robes swaying in the current, Snare stayed at the center of it, staff planted, eyes moving. Orders pushed through the broodlink in quick bursts. Lessers stopped swarming blindly. Now they dragged bodies, blocked sightlines, clogged paths. Dead flesh piled where it mattered, turning the field into a maze.
At the front, Bile and Panic held the line. Panic moved like he always did. Blade in one hand, chain and sickle in the other. He cut, hooked, pulled, and slipped through gaps no one else saw. A leg taken here. A throat opened there.
But Bile didn't move like that.
Bloodmask erupting, it crawled over his face and down his body, hardening as it spread. Plates formed over muscle, thick and layered, until he looked more like a demonic knight than a broodling. A wave of Vent Bugs crashed into him.
Claws scraped. Legs stabbed in and snapped. He grabbed one and crushed it, then another, each impact sending dull shocks through the water. He pushed into them, forcing space open by brute force alone.
Behind them, the pressure never let up.
Synapse and Widow held range.
Widow's javelin never stopped moving. It flashed out, pierced, returned. Every throw found something vital. Every pull came back clean. Synapse stayed anchored, rifle steady against whatever cover he built. Each shot hit with force, cracking shells, dropping riders, breaking mounts mid-charge.
Makara tried to push. They couldn't get close.
Hex filled the gaps.
His fingers dragged across the guitar, the sound low and wrong. His voice followed, cutting through the water. The noise pressed into bodies, into organs. Makara spasmed. Vent Bugs faltered. At the same time, the brood surged harder, faster, their movements snapping tighter with every pulse.
Min didn't care about any of that. She only smashed. Gauntlets came down and things broke. Heads burst. Shells caved. She drove forward with no hesitation, laughter bleeding into the fight. Nothing that got close stayed whole for long.
Split-jaw stayed just behind Slims, eyes locked on anything that tried to flank. Slims kept firing, repeater clicking in steady rhythm. Bolts punched into targets one after another, each shot timed, controlled. When something slipped past, Split-jaw was already there, hardened fists beating it down.
The line held. Even the humans.
At the edge of the fight, where bodies had stacked thick, movement shifted. A mound of Vent Bugs collapsed in on itself, legs twitching as the pile gave way.
The three other Dead Hands were revealed.
Flesh gone. Armor destroyed. Their skeletons were exposed where the swarm had eaten through them. A sacrifice probably only Split-jaw would remember.
From atop one of the largest eels, a Makara with bright gold frills watched the battle, his mount shifting beneath him as it hissed. He tracked the movement, the lines, and understood it had become a war of attrition. One his side wasn't likely to win.
The bugs were endless, but not truly infinite. Only so many could be drawn in by the blood and noise, only so many close enough to answer the pull. He could feel the current thinning around them. They needed to act.
Every guard there knew it. Their lives depended on it, each breath tight, each grip firm on their weapons.
Even if they let the demons pass, it wouldn't matter. If the dungeon cleared, the release would kill them anyway. Their only chance was a dungeon break, but even that came with risk. They could be thrown anywhere. Dry land. No water. No way to breathe.
Still, there was no choice.
They had to fight.
And right now, the fight was turning against them.
He tightened his grip on the eel's reins, preparing to lead a final charge. Then something caught in his vision.
His eyes snapped wide, frills flaring.
His gaze locked onto Gundant's corpse.
'Grrlunum Nichta!'
The command tore from him, voice cutting through the water as eel and rider surged forward.
At his call, the remaining warriors broke off and shifted, weapons raised as they moved to shield the golden Makara.
Panic's head tilted, eyes tracking the movement from the warrior to Gundant's corpse. Bloodlight flickered in his gaze as he swung his sickle.
Another Makara shoved its mount into the path, the eel snapping its tail to intercept. The chain caught on its scales instead. Panic yanked, pulling himself forward, body snapping tight as he shot across the distance.
He hit the rider like a jolt, claws digging in as he climbed.
A scream tore free.
Another of Widow's throws was knocked aside. Synapse adjusted. Shots cracked through the water.
Still, the golden Makara kept coming.
Straight into Hex's cone of sound.
The eel seized. Its body twisted, blood bursting from its eyes. In that same instant, the warrior launched.
He kicked free.
The eel spun and snapped its tail, sending him forward like a bolt.
A rifle shot rang out, clipping him, jerking his body mid-flight—but not enough.
He slammed into the giant's waist, the impact dull. His body now rested against the human-sized pouch sewn into the belt.
His spear cut it open.
Everything around him continued, bodies moved, weapons lifted, auras flared. The Makara reached forward and pressed his hand to the giant horn inside—
Purple light erupted—
And a single note tore through the Vent Cathedral.
Chests tightened. Ears rang. Attacks stalled mid-motion as even Min flinched, hands rising too late to cover her ears.
The same note.
The same control.
Snare and Synapse locked eyes. No words. Just the realization.
Snare's aura exploded.
'Get ready! Every bug in the place is now heading for us! Hold the fucking line even if it costs you your lives!'
His staff slammed into the ground.
'PRAISE THE BROODFATHER!'
Auras ignited across the field. Broodlings. Humans. Every one of them roared.
While in the distance, movement filled the dark.
An endless living mass.
Death was closing in.