Chapter 118 – Dungeon – XXVI
The cold night wind swept across the summit of the fifth mountain. We had agreed to wait one more day before Dalia poured her blood into the chalice. Each of us had our own reasons.
Aeloria was mentally preparing himself to continue leading us through the conquest of this dungeon. One extra day was a welcome reprieve for him—a final truce before the inevitable.
Dorian and Seraphine spent most of their time resting, trying to bring their bodies back to peak condition.
I had no objection to the decision. Still, I was beginning to feel chills every time I looked toward the previous mountains. I knew that when the next day dawned, the third mountain would vanish, just like the first and second had before it.
But the real reason for the delay was Dalia's condition. Even after a full day of rest, she was still pale, and her prana core was far from fully recovered.
The early morning dragged on slowly, and everyone remained lying down in their places. Although we pretended to sleep, it was clear that some of us were just rolling back and forth on the hard, cold ground near the campfire.
I was one of those people. I used my waking hours to cultivate. Inside the dungeon, the spatial affinity was much clearer than outside, so I kept absorbing that energy into my prana core in intervals, trying to reach saturation.
From time to time, I stared at the black ring embedded in my finger. That cursed artifact whispered melancholically in my ears, asking me to return to that strange world—that world inside it.
And that wasn't all.
Ever since I put it on—or rather, since it bound itself to me—I've been feeling a constant drain. The ring consumes my energy. Not just prana, but everything. And yet, only my prana core seems to be significantly affected.
Before, both of my cores—prana and mana—would take about the same amount of time to recover. Now, my prana reserves hovered around ninety percent, while my mana core stayed constantly at one hundred.