They quickly gathered up the dice and coins, stuffing them into pockets, and arranged themselves in proper guard positions on either side of the dungeon entrance. Backs straight, weapons visible but not drawn, expressions neutral and alert.The flame horse carriage grew larger as it approached, the magnificent beasts that pulled it clearly visible now,their manes of actual fire streaming behind them, their obsidian bodies gleaming in the late afternoon light. The carriage itself was well-maintained, official-looking, bearing markings that suggested it came from the main facility."Reinforcements are here." The scarred guard muttered to his companion, trying to sound certain even though he had no idea if that was actually true.The horses began to descend, spiraling down in a controlled pattern that spoke of expert handling. Their hooves touched the ground about fifty yards from the dungeon entrance, and the carriage settled gently onto the earth with barely a bounce.For a moment,

"Uh-huh." Asta said, trying very hard not to laugh. "Very restrained. That's exactly the word I'd use.""It is!" Mira insisted, though she was grinning again. "Flora had to stop me from breaking the shorter one's nose. So see? Restraint."Flora let out a long-suffering sigh, then seemed to shake off the entire incident. She reached into the pack she'd been carrying and pulled out several rolled-up scrolls, each one bound with ribbon in different colors."Alright, before we actually go into the dungeon and probably die, old man Kael wanted me to give you these." She held out the scrolls, sorting through them. "Flame technique scrolls for Jabber and Mira, and a sword technique scroll for Asta."She distributed them accordingly,handing a red-ribboned scroll to Mira, a blue one to Jabber, and a silver one to Asta. Each scroll was made of aged parchment that felt delicate under their fingers, and the ribbon bindings showed signs of having been tied and untied many times over the year

Asta's mind raced as Flora's question hung in the air. He could feel both girls' eyes on him, waiting for an explanation, waiting for reassurance that their fourth team member wasn't about to have a breakdown in the middle of a dangerous dungeon.His thoughts churned rapidly. ‘I can't tell them. Not with Mira here. Flora knows about the dragons,she was there when old man Kael explained some of it. But Mira doesn't know. And if I start talking about dragons sealed inside us and ancient powers calling out to each other, she's going to think we've all lost our minds.’‘Plus, even if I wanted to tell them, what would I say? 'Oh yeah, Jabber and I both felt some massive, terrifying presence deep in this dungeon, and the sealed dragons inside us are having completely different reactions to it'? That'll really inspire confidence in our team's mental stability.’The silence was stretching too long. He needed to say something, give them some explanation that would satisfy their concern withou

Jabber walked behind the others, the gap between them widening with each step he didn't take to catch up. His hand was still wrapped around the talisman, feeling its weight, feeling the strange warmth radiating from the metal and stone.‘Put on the talisman. Put on the talisman. Put on the talisman.’The voice wouldn't stop. It had become background noise now, a constant drone that filled every corner of his mind, leaving no room for his own thoughts, his own decisions. It was like being trapped in a room with someone who kept repeating the same phrase over and over, never stopping, never varying, just driving the words deeper and deeper into his consciousness.Jabber's resistance was crumbling. He was so tired,tired of fighting the voice, tired of carrying this secret, tired of trying to figure out what he was supposed to do with an artifact he'd stolen and didn't understand.His hand lifted the talisman higher, bringing it up to chest level. The circular metal object dangled from it

Asta's body became a blur of motion.He moved in a zigzag pattern, his feet carrying him forward in sharp, angular cuts that made him impossible to track. Left-right-left-forward-right, each change of direction happening so fast that the beast's eyes,already trying to follow Mira's movements above,couldn't lock onto him.The technique guided his blade, his arms moving with a precision he'd never achieved through normal training. His sword became an extension of his will, striking with surgical accuracy at the exact points where the beast's legs connected to its torso.First strike,the front left leg. His blade sliced through the tendons behind the joint with a sound like tearing fabric, and the beast stumbled.Second strike,the back left leg, same principle. The blade found the weak point between scales and cut deep.Third strike,the front right leg. The beast was roaring now, trying to turn, trying to defend itself, but Asta was too fast, the technique carrying him through the moveme