Cor looked up at Damian with a look of both embarrassment and gratefulness as he took Damian's hand to help him rise.
In truth, Cor had expected the man to reject the request after what had happened earlier. He had heard that the man before him was an engine of war. More beast than man, some had even suspected that he himself was a manifestation of some dreadful Nightmare Creature.
Of course Cor knew more than most.
Having briefly seen the man during the struggle for the boats all those months ago, he hadn't seemed to be anything impressive at the time.
After their return to the Waking world, several Awakened who had found themselves in other areas started to tell stories of the archer. Tales of how he had managed to kill dozens of dreadful beasts with a single blow, even managing to bring down a Tyrant singlehandedly.
The rumours spread like wildfire, reaching every corner of the world where human beings still managed to draw breath. There was barely an Awakened alive who had not heard the tales.
Yet there were no traces of this man in the world they had called their home. It was as if he was a phantom drifting across the endless planes of reality, a creature born from the heart of all nightmares.
The only ones who truly knew the fate of the man were the very ones spreading his name far and wide, as well as Prophet, of course. If not for his guidance, Cor would have dismissed the rumours as nothing more than a tale told to keep morale high.
The stories he had heard about the day the legion fell, the whispers of the terrible siege of the castle thereafter. It all felt like a dream; in a way, it was after all.
Still, he believed in his heart that his strength was enough.
He thought that if he had to ever face such a demon, he would come out on top, but in the end he was proven wrong.
Even if it was just for that brief moment of blind fury, that was enough to know the difference between an Awakened and a living legend. Damian was a threat unlike any he had seen before.
A phantom so ethereal even death itself could not claim him.
In truth, he was scared to be in his presence.
Every step he took as he guided him to the nearest entrance of the vile beasts, he couldn't help but suppress the shaking of his body. He glanced at the man who looked at him with such kindness in his eyes.
Those eyes, despite them containing nothing but softness, Cor still felt as if he could see his mangled corpse reflected in their light.
His thoughts were clouded as they both walked in bitter silence. Damian looked as if he wanted to say something, but he always ripped his gaze away.
Cor knew he wasn't in danger, but still he had learnt a valuable lesson that day. Never make an enemy of Damian, the man known as the Phantom of Light.
The name originated from the blinding arrows he fired from behind the safety of his Dormant Ability.
Some had wanted to call him the Angel Born In Hell, but apparently that name already had a place in the public consciousness.
As Cor's thoughts began to clear and his emotions settled, he found himself at the edge of a pit which seemed to lead into nothing but darkness below.
The pit was two meters across and a couple dozen meters deep. Its walls were dug roughly, and the soil was still a little damp.
He pointed downwards as he spoke in a low voice,
"This will be our entry point for this mission.
We have already sent a few people down there, but it was too confusing and dark for them to find anything of value. Hopefully this time will be different."
He paused for a moment to take a long breath in before he continued.
"If you have any luminous memories, I would suggest summoning them now. Apart from the occasional hole to the surface, there's no light down below."
Damian looked down the pit and whistled softly before shaking his head,
"There's no need.
I can see decently well in the dark, so I don't carry one on me.
How long do you reckon we will be down there for?"
Cor simply shrugged as he walked forward,
"Hard to tell, there is no way to tell how many of those worms are down there."
Before Damian could ask anything else, Cor took a step and plummeted down the eerie abyss, the darkness swallowing him whole as his figure faded into the dark.
Damian could faintly see the man's outline who gestured for the old timer to join him.
With nothing else to lose but his life, Damian took the leap of faith and entered the nest of his enemy.
***
Hitting the ground with a thunderous roar as his steel armour clambered against the stone, Damian looked around.
His eyes darted to every corner of the endless passages, which seemed to stretch out endlessly in every direction. Small pockets of light shone in from above, but their faint light failed to illuminate the ground below.
His gaze eventually landed on Cor, who was examining the tunnels with a serious expression before violently sniffing at the air as if searching for his prey.
Damian realised he didn't actually know the abilities of the man standing by his side.
Tearing his gaze away, he noted how the tunnels seemed to be of differing sizes.
Some were just large enough for an adult to crawl through, whilst others were big enough to walk down.
Past that, there were others which seemed large enough for some military vehicles to pass through without difficulty.
Damian had never thought he would one day miss the simplicity of the battlefields of war, yet he had found himself thinking back on those days more fondly. How simple it was to kill other humans, in comparison to the dreadful beasts they thought nearly every day.
It seemed like a paradise.
Soon Cor finished taking in the air, crouching down to the ground as he picked up a patch of moist soil and lifted it to his face.
Before Damian could question the act, the young man began to taste the soil, savouring its taste on his tongue.
Damian coughed, which seemed to snap the young man from his daze as he dropped the soil. He quickly stood and pointed down one of the tunnels.
"There's more of the beasts down that way, not too far from our location. If we follow this scent, it should hopefully lead us to the heart of the nest."
Damian nodded in agreement and summoned the [Ariadne's WarBow] to his hand. The brilliant sparks of light illuminated the area for a moment, as if a blizzard of light had raged for just a moment. Weaving themselves into the familiar weight which filled his hands.
At the same time, another shape was forming itself from what seemed like hundreds of tiny feathers, which formed into the shape of a small crow which perched onto Cor's arm.
Turning to its master, the Crow tilted its head before squawking out,
"Dark, Dark.
Danger, Danger"
Cor simply patted and then stroked the feathers of his companion before he sent it a mental command as it flew ahead of them as they began to stride forward.