Sharp

'Here goes nothing.' 

A turbid breath escaped Nico's mouth. 

He turned around and stared into the hazy gloom, his senses searching for any sign of the approaching abomination. A blue dot flashed at the corner of his vision, steadily coming closer. 

Clamping down on his nervousness and fear, the brown-haired boy resisted the urge to flee. As fate would have it, their last transportation had ironically teleported them very close to the Dungeon Core. 

Closer than they had ever got before. 

Unfortunately, it wasn't so near that they could just ignore the danger posed by the Dungeon Boss. 

Worse still, it seemed as if the Labryinth had just completed its final rumble; the corridor darkening slightly. 

Nico gritted his teeth. 

It was as if the world was mocking them, telling them they had come so far only to fail at the very end. 

Clenching his left fist until his hand started to hurt, he waited agonisingly for the overlord of the Dungeon to appear. 

Slowly, torturously, the seconds passed. 

The half-blood beside him fidgeted nervously, the stakes of the battle almost too much for him to bear. Oliver and Isaac were much the same, fighting the urge to nock an arrow and keep it strung on their bows. 

Inhale, exhale… the youths practised an agonising exercise of patience. 

What's more, the Dungeon Boss seemed to delight in their fear, the azure mote slowing down even more. 

The group of four trembled slightly in anticipation of what was to come. Not in excitement, but a mixture of dread and worry. 

They couldn't take too much more of this tortuous waiting. 

The cloaked figure felt the same but for a very different reason. 

He was incredibly excited, for the main act was just about to take centre stage…

Luckily for Nico, Leon and the two elves, a minute later - something which seemed to stretch for an eternity - the Dungeon Boss made its grandiose, if not eerie entrance. 

Pale mist swirled around its hardened carapace of ice as it scuttled forward on its eight legs. Its many beady eyes stared back at them, full of deep hunger and madness. The strange mark etched onto its forehead glinted, catching the faint light. 

To the young squad, it was startling to see just how well it had managed to curb its instincts for so long, all to instil the fear of death into their very bones. 

Low-level Dungeons such as this one were said to only house mindless husks. Why did this very overlord defy such common knowledge?

Nico would have analysed the incongruity if he could. 

As it was though, right now his mind was blank, void of any thoughts. 

The many experiences he had gained in his relatively short life unfolded before his eyes. 

Running around the house chased by his mother, his giggles echoing between its white walls. Rushing up to his father to show him the insect he had once found in their garden. The joy of receiving a miniature toy sword for his sixth birthday…. 

…His first time taking a sip of bitter coffee and gagging. 

All of it, and much more replayed on repeat in his head in the short moment the overlord of the Dungeon took to reveal itself. 

Nico chuckled to himself. 

Why did he start getting sentimental now? 

Wasn't this what he always wanted? 

To go out with a bang? 

Slowly, he straightened, his lips curling into a faint smile. 

'Ah, I've always wanted to smile in the face of extreme danger. I guess it happened just in time.' 

"Come on guys, what's the big deal? We've defeated spiders like that for breakfast, lunch and dinner! This'll be no different!" The brown-haired boy spoke with a renewed sense of vigour. 

Getting into stance, Nico readied himself for the performance of a lifetime. 

Yes. This was a show. 

A play where he would show Fate, the Transcendents, and even the world, what a true, crazed, cornered battle maniac looked like. 

'I hope you're watching, Henry!'

Pointing his spear at the large arachnid, his smile widened, "Let our duel of bloody murder begin!" 

Instantly after that, the brown-haired boy shot forward, his steps brimming with a purpose to bow out of the realm of the living in the greatest way possible. 

"Nico, no!" The two elves cried. 

"I'm sorry, Oliver and Isaac. Let this be my last selfish wish." the brown-haired boy muttered to himself, approaching the Dungeon Boss. 

As his rapid steps echoed in the frigid gloom, Nico's voice resounded over their din: 

"Leon, I'm gonna need your help, big guy! Isaac and Oliver, you can head to the Dungeon Core if you wish. I am not going to force you to participate in a pointless fight." 

The half-blood broke out of his stupor and instantly rushed towards his friend. Not an ounce of hesitation within his steps. 

The green-haired duo shared a glance, hesitation mixed with indecision shrouding their delicate features. 

The crimson dome was close, closer than it ever had before. 

If they bolted for it, they were sure to reach it. 

The only problem with that line of thought...

...Was it worth abandoning their teammates to die just to gain power? 

No. No, it wasn't. 

Aside from the fact that their guilty consciences would mostly likely affect their concentration when forming a mana core, they had not been raised to abandon anyone in need. 

Just like their Father had saved numerous lives during his frequent posts at the Elven Border, so too did they desire to come to the aid of those in need. 

Especially Isaac, who wished to become the Royal Physician. 

If he couldn't save his teammate - no, he had long been treating Nico as a friend. 

if he couldn't even attempt to save his friend when it mattered most, what right would he have to do the same for those wounded and injured members of his race in the future? 

They'd certainly be as deserving of help as the brown-haired boy had been. 

The younger elf gritted his teeth and made up his mind. 

Oliver, who saw the determination plastered on his brother's face, couldn't help but sigh. 

His lips curled into a faint smile. 

This head-strong younger brother of his… placed a ton of importance on his own emotions. Perhaps even more so than was healthy. 

However, he couldn't fault him for this. 

Not now or ever. 

For that was what made Isaac him. 

As the older brother, who was he to get in the way of what his younger sibling wished? 

And while Oliver's desire to save came from wishing to heal his poor mother, he understood perfectly how and why Isaac had made the choice he had. 

Besides, leaving his comrade, whom he had braved death with on numerous occasions, to die a pitiful death would only leave a bitter taste in his mouth. 

One that Isaac's mourning would only exacerbate if they did not make an effort to help the brown-haired boy. 

And so, while a millennium had passed in the elven duo's head, outwardly only a single second had elapsed. 

Swiftly nocking an arrow on each of their bows with practised ease, Oliver and Isaac stared at the overlord of the Dungeon with somber intensity. 

They would have to make every shot they had left count. 

Behind them, the cloaked figure watched in anticipation, his former relaxed pose a little tense. 

Nico continued his approach, now a couple of metres away from the Dungeon Boss and activated the First Form, boosting his speed even further. 

'Time for the first act!'

The bulky arachnid regarded him with ravenous hunger, before opening its mouth and releasing a shrill high-pitched gurgle. 

Nico winced at the volume of the sonar attack. 

He gripped his spear tighter, envisioning his body turning into the sharpest blade. 

This first act relied on him grasping a portion of the underlying essence of the spear. 

Nico was confident the high-pressure situation would help him achieve that. 

Recalling the time he had been beaten black and blue by Lucas's lackeys, his duel with Kayara, his first matchup against the former Stanburg Heir, the dangerous mission of hunting a Shadow Fang Leopard, and his second clash against Lucas… his mind dissected what all these scenarios had in common. 

The first was an unconscious lack of effort when faced with unfavourable odds. The second was due to his fatigue and the consequence of sacrificing his clavicle in the previous fight to achieve a win. 

The third had to do with his inability to get past his opponent's guard. The fourth entailed being pushed back by an overwhelming foe, and the fifth… the fifth used cunning to gain a split-second advantage that ultimately led to a thin wound on his opponent's cheek. 

Nico's mind whizzed at a million miles an hour as his surroundings slowed. 

What exactly was a spear? 

Sure, it was a weapon.

But it was also something else. 

Something primal, profound and elusive… something he had previously been unable to comprehend. 

However, as he stared certain death in the face, a deafening click resounded within Nico's mind. 

With that one click it felt as if he had been enlightened, grasping a certain truth he had previously failed to uncover. 

'So that's how it is…' 

A spear was to be razor sharp. 

So sharp that it did not matter if it was faced with overwhelming odds, it would still slice whatever was in front of it apart.

So sharp that you needn't sacrifice a part of your body to win, the spear would pierce your opponent instead.

So sharp that you need not worry about bypassing a person's guard, for the spear would do it for you. 

So sharp that a powerful foe could not push it back without harming themselves in return. 

And so sharp… so piercing that you need not rely on any cunning to win. 

The spear was enough.

A giddy laugh escaped Nico's throat. 

He felt his will become sharp, so serrated that he felt he could slice the arachnid in two with just his mind. 

The remarkable difference before and after his transformation blew his mind. 

It was a shame he wouldn't get to experience this in the future. 

Nico shook his head, focusing on the budding seed within his mind. 

The first vestiges of true sharpness swirled intensely around his figure. 

The trident-like weapon in his hands cried as if celebrating its master's ascension toward the ultimate path. 

…A path where they could eventually pierce anything they dared wish.