Chapter 42: Drink this

Dante looked down at her crazy, flushing face, his expression remaining completely blank. He didn’t feel uncomfortable with her sudden emotional burst, but he casually raised his left hand and pushed her forehead back a few inches to create some personal space. "You are too loud. Sit back."

Instead of being offended, Her heart start racing as he talk to her, and her tail thrashed against the floor in pure ecstasy. She loved his cold, brutal rejection more than anything. "Yes, my King," she whispered happily, sitting back slightly but keeping her hips firmly glued to his side.

Dante turned his head back to look at Gideon, completely switching the conversation back to logic. "Ignore her delusions. Tell me about the hidden tunnel. What kind of obstacles are we looking at?"

Gideon watched the exchange, shaking his head with a smile before his expression turned serious. He leaned forward, resting his rough hands on his bone staff. "The abandoned mining tracks are old—built by a slave clan that Balor wiped out years ago. The entrance is hidden inside a dead volcanic fissure about two kilometers ahead. It goes straight under the mountain crust, bypassing Balor’s outer fortresses completely."

"But it hasn’t been used in ten years. The primary obstacle isn’t Balor’s soldiers. It’s the environment. The track cuts right through a subterranean vein where the floor’s liquid fire collects. There is a massive stone bridge we have to cross, but the air in that cavity is completely toxic. It carries a status effect that drains a climber’s physical stamina within minutes."

Dante didn’t show any panic, but he internally calculated his limits. ’A stamina-draining status trap. my body will feel the full weight of the heat. My mirror skin can reflect physical strikes, but it can’t reflect toxic air.’

"I can handle the air," Dante said in an uncaring tone. "What else?"

"The bridge is guarded," Gideon replied grimly. "Not by Balor, but by a feral, ancient entity that nested in the dark after the mines were abandoned. A blind volcanic elemental made of hardened obsidian and magma. It attacks anything that creates vibrations on the tracks."

"A trash monster," Dante muttered.

"It’s an S-rank calamity beast, kid," Gideon warned, his brows furrowing. "Without something to track its aggro range or show its weakness points, you can’t just slap it to death."

Esabella looked across at Gideon with a proud expression, her manic smile returning to her lips. "An S-rank beast is nothing to my King. Dante just shattered Captain Akon’s absolute defense with a single strike of his bare hand. If that ugly monster dares to look at my Dante, I will use my dragon-sword to chop it into pebbles myself. Right, Dante? We don’t need to fear some old rock. As long as we are together, nobody in this entire dimension can touch you."

Dante didn’t answer her.

SCREECH!

The iron brakes groaned loudly outside as the carriage came to a complete halt. The continuous thudding of the marching vanguard army stopped behind them.

Dante pushed the door open and stepped out into the black desert once again. The air here was blazing hot, Right in front of them was a massive, jagged tear in the side of the black mountain wall—the entrance to the forgotten mining tracks.

The temperature climbed instantly the moment they stepped past the jagged opening of the black mountain wall.

Dante walked in front, his foot stepping over rusted chains and shattered wooden crates left behind by the long-dead slave clan.

The tunnel was narrow, the walls sweating with a black condensation that slowly dripped onto the floor. There were no crystal lights down here; the only illumination came from a glowing red fracture that ran along the center of the track, showing the molten lava flowing beneath the crust.

Dante took a breath, but his chest immediately tightened. The air down here didn’t just feel hot—it felt thick with a poisonous gas that burned the back of his throat.

’My lungs are working twice as hard,’ Dante analyzed internally. ’Every breath is actively draining my physical stamina reservoir. If I stay in this zone for more than an hour, my reaction speeds will drop by thirty percent.’

"Drink this," a voice said from behind him.

Gideon walked up beside him, handing Dante a small flask made from a hollowed-out monster horn. "It’s crushed volcanic root fluid. It doesn’t fix the gravity or the heat, but it coats your throat so the sulfur doesn’t eat through your lungs within ten minutes."

Dante looked at the old pioneer for a split second before taking the flask. He took a short swallow. The liquid tasted bitter and metallic, but the burning sensation in his chest immediately dulled into a manageable ache. "Thanks."

"Don’t get used to it," Gideon grunted as they kept moving down the sloping track. "We still have a long way to go before we hit the bridge."

Esabella glided past Gideon and come to Dante’s side, she actively pushed him away from the old man.

"I told you to stay in the back, old fossil," Esabella hissed, her voice dropping to a murderous register. "My King doesn’t need your dirty drinks. If he requires anything to ease his fatigue, I can provide my own royal demon energy to buffer his core."

She immediately turned her face toward Dante, her red eyes dilating completely as she grabbed his right arm, pressing her large chest firmly against his hand. "Right, Dante? You don’t need this old human. I can carry you through the tunnel myself if you feel tired. My body is naturally immune to this volcanic heat."

Dante didn’t turn his head. He casually pulled his arm out of her tight grip and shoved his hand back into his pocket. "Stop talking. The noise is wasting my stamina. And stay three steps away from me."

"Don’t worry my King. I will guard your right side perfectly from exactly three steps away." Esabella don’t feel upset even after his rejection the more talk like that the more she wants him.