Chapter 97 - Dungeon - V
The mercury dome held an unnatural silence as the group recovered. Dália worked for thirty uninterrupted minutes, her fingers dancing over Seraphine's body like a divine weaver. Each movement drew out traces of the phosphorescent venom, which dripped in dark-green threads before evaporating into the air. The warrior's skin, once corpse-like, slowly regained life, though it still bore the pallor of someone teetering on the brink.
"We need... time," Dália panted, her fingers trembling slightly. "She needs at least an hour."
Dorian nodded, rubbing his necrotized shoulder, now scarred. Suddenly, his body convulsed in a violent coughing fit. When he straightened, he spat a black, viscous mass onto the ground. It bubbled for a moment before dissolving into the stone.
"Goddammit," he muttered, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. "Persistent fucking poison!"
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"Yeah. Just my body purging the crap—don't worry about it!"
As we discussed the group's precarious state, Aeloria paced like a caged beast, his impatience palpable.
"Ten minutes," he spat. "We barely set foot in this damn dungeon, and we're already cornered like rats."
"Wasn't my fault," Dorian defended. "Things moved too fast!"
"Not blaming you. If Seraphine hadn't acted quickly, the damage would've been worse," Aeloria said.
"But it's not just bad luck. This place... something's wrong," I added. "Ever since we entered, I've felt this... lingering sense of doom."