[DanMachi/Percy Jackson] Prytaneum

Chapter 12: Daybreak part 2​

I struck the Killer Ant with a fist, its hard shell crumpling under the force of the blow until I felt something wet splatter over my hand and forearm. I didn't give it a glance, because I'd already resigned myself to throwing away this set of clothes once I was done it—it was so badly stained by this point that I couldn't even see any traces of its original color. With my other hand, I swung Riptide in a devastating arc, sheering clean through the armor of the Ants and scattering limbs. I didn't hesitate to step forward into the tide of body, pressing my assault as I cut down more monsters with every swing.

This close to a source of water, I was free to go all out. I didn't have to worry about avoiding injury like I had before, didn't have to stop my attacks to evade wounds that my build up over time and wear me down. Instead, I paid attention only to the most dangerous attacks, continuing on even when claws scraped at my skin or horns pierced my flesh and repaying them with more deadly blows. My wounds healed and closed even as I fought, even the scars they left behind quickly fading.

And I wasn't alone. Big as they were, the Killer Ants were nothing to Mrs. O'Leary, whose very steps could crush the creatures. She ran through the creature's ranks, her sheer size doing as much damage as my blade, stopping occasionally to crush one beneath her teeth or rip one open with her claws. She stuck close enough to me that I could swat off anything that tried to climb on her or anything too small for her to easily target and I'd long since struck each and every single Moth out of the air. What was left of the Dungeon's forces were caught between a storm of steel and a Hellhound and we tore them apart. Every time a monster fell, another seemed to take its place, but that wasn't enough to stop us, even as time wore on.

A part of me wondered how much time had passed. My time in the Pantry had passed by in a blur, too little time between one enemy and the next for me to ever real stop and consider how long I'd been fighting—but if it had been past midnight when I reached the seventh floor, it must be nearly morning now. Before I knew it, I'd spent the whole day here. Or the whole night, I guess.

Hestia must be worried, I thought, and that sent a pang through my chest—but no, I'd worry about that latter. For now, there was nothing but me and the battle and the storm and in a way that was easier.

Seeing an opportunity, I renewed my hurricane to throw the monsters around me into disarray. Even near a body of water, it was too hard to maintain constantly, so I let it rage for short periods and then die while I regained my strength. When I saw the opportunity, I sent the Pantry waters flooding over the monsters and then pulled them closer, steadily tearing them apart. Blasts took out anything that tried to fly above us, whether they were Purple Moths or Blue Papillion—blue butterfly monsters that were just as annoying as their purple friends, because while they didn't spread poison, their powder seemed to heal the other monsters. With them gone, I was free to focus on the battle, steadily swinging my sword and carving through monsters until I cleaved an Ant clean in two, kicked a Needle Rabbit hard enough to break it's horn and neck alike, turned—

And found nothing. There was nothing left in the Pantry except me, Mrs. O'Leary, and enough corpses to cover the floor of the massive room.

I panted hard, standing amongst the bodies even as I looked around in...confusion? Expectation? I wasn't sure.

Had we actually killed everything? Was it actually over? Or was this another trap? Was the Dungeon mustering another wave just out of sight, waiting for me to let down my guard or—

"Mrs. O'Leary," I spoke, voice ragged between breathes as I looked towards my friend. "Is that...is that all of them?"

Mrs. O'Leary cocked her head to the side, massive ears twitching slightly as she listened for signs of trouble. As she did, I looked her over in turn, noting the blood dripping from her muzzle. My wooly mammoth of a dog didn't seem harmed, but it was hard to tell with fur as dark as hers. Slowly, I moved over to her and put a hand on her, brushing it through her fur in search of wounds or wetness. Before I could get very far, though, she released a huffing breath, turned her head, and nuzzled it into crest hard enough that I nearly fell back.

"Okay, okay," I laughed quietly, wrapping my arms around her head as best I could to help myself stay balanced. "I get it—you're okay. Shame on me for doubting you."

She opened her mouth in a doggy grin that showed more teeth than most toothpaste commercials and then licked me. Not my face—me. As in, my entire body. Since her tongue was probably longer than I was tall, it was a generally icky experience, especially with her breath, but...well, at this point, I was gross enough that it could only have been an improvement, so I didn't complain.

"Does that mean we're clear?" I asked her as I wiped dog spit from my face. When she nodded, I closed my eyes and nearly collapsed then and there. A part of me couldn't believe it and was waiting for the next enemy to come out—but no, every wall in sight was broken, shattered by the monsters the Dungeon had birthed to try and kill me. Hell, at this point it wouldn't have survived me if the entire seventh floor looked like that, and good riddance if so. It was over.

Except not quite.

"Okay," I said, opening my eyes despite protest from my everything. "No point in letting these all go to waste, then. Mind keeping a look out, girl?"

Mrs. O'Leary looked around and then spent a few seconds pawing the ground, shifting bodies until she had a nice place to sit. For my part, I just sat down on top of an Ant, stabbed Riptide into the ground, drew Annabeth's dagger, and started to cut out Magic Stones.

I wasn't going to cut them all out, because gods, there were so many. But I had a Familia to provide for and I might as well fill my metaphorical pockets. Thanks to the backpack Eina had bought me, I had significantly more room to carry magic stones and I'd even bought a few extra bags to fill with magic stones. Between that and the fact that I'd done all my hunting on the sixth and seventh floors, I should be able to make quite a bit of money today. Which was good, because I was going to spend the rest of today sleeping, dreams or no.

One way or another...it looked like the seventh floor was going to be my stopping point for today.

As that thought passed through my mind, I paused and frown, considering it.

No...it was more than that. If this was what I had to expect from the seventh floor from now on, then it would take time to clear it in any real capacity. I hadn't really had a chance to map any of it out today, what with running for my life and fighting all day, but I'd learned a lot. Mainly that the Pantries were the only places I could really stand up to a coordinated attack from the Dungeon on this floor and that they had their own problems. If I didn't reach a Pantry, I couldn't truly fight—but if I fought, I couldn't leave, what with the massive horde of monsters the Dungeon sent after me.

Should I just skip the seventh and move on to the eighth floor? So far, I hadn't found any signs of my friends on the upper floors and this didn't look anything like the place where I'd been reborn. It was entirely possible that I'd just be wasting my time here, trying to clear the seventh floor in its entirety.

But could I really expect for things to get easier from now on? I already knew that things would just get harder from here on out, with stronger enemies in greater numbers—did I want to start cutting corners on the seventh floor, with who knows how many more awaiting me?

No, I didn't. I wouldn't. I'd clear this floor in its entirety and move onto the next, however long it took. I just need to prepare better. The Moths had been the biggest problem, messing with me from afar while I was trying to fight, but if I figured out some way of dealing with them, I could keep going. I wonder if that Apothecary Hestia mentioned sold anything like that? Maybe I was thinking about this took much like a game, but if they sold potions, did they sell antidotes?

Alternatively, I guess I could just have Mrs. O'Leary shadow travel me straight into the Pantry next time, spend half the day killing things, and then try to walk around. Whatever they reason, it looked like the Dungeon had been forced to stop eventually; if I pushed it this far, I might be able to map out at least a chunk of the seventh floor.

Either way, I wasn't moving on until I figured out something.

I sighed and finished removing the magic stone from the Killer Ant, watching absently as it collapsed into dust. At the same time, I opened the bag at my side and moved to drop the stone inside when a slight gust blew my hair. Turning my head, I looked at Mrs. O'Leary, who was suddenly focused very intently on me, nose sniffing at me as if I was holding a T-Rex bone.

Blinking at her, I tilted my head and glanced between her and the stone in my hand.

"You like magic stones, girl?" I asked, honestly baffled. "Are these even safe to eat?"

She panted excited and did that thing dogs do where they just seem to vibrate in place and take steps without going anywhere. Her wagging tail smacked a Killer Ant thirty feet away.

Shrugging helplessly, I tossed the small crystal at her and she snapped it out of the air with jaws that could have torn a car in half.

"Help yourself," I told her, nodding at the entire room. "I won't be able to carry them all and any that are left will just go to waste. You might as well eat them, just...don't make yourself sick, okay?"

Mrs. O'Leary stood and pranced over to a nearby killed Ant, putting a paw on it to hold it in place before going to work on her newest treat.

"If this is gonna be the norm from now on, maybe we should get you some saddlebags or something," I told her, kind of glad to have some conversation as I worked, one-sided though it may be. "You could help me carry some of this stuff and I could pay you in Scooby Snacks."

Mrs. O'Leary didn't look at me, busy as she was with her new meal, but her tail was wagging. But how was I going to explain this to a...saddlebag maker or whatever they're called. 'It's for my horse. My really, really big horse.'

A problem for another day, I suppose.

Together, the two of us continued to work and eat respectively, while I stuck up largely meaningless conversation with man's super-sized best friend. It was probably just me, but having someone to talk to and distract myself with made the time pass a lot more quickly, and I filled up my bags fairly quickly.

"Well, that's pretty good for a hard day's work, if I do say so myself," I said. "We should probably get going soon, though, because Hestia must be worried sick. You about done yet, girl?"

Mrs. O'Leary chewed contemplatively on a person-sized Ant, having done a pretty good job cleaning things up in her own right. After a moment, she trotted over the Pantry waters and bowed her head to drink.

"You know, I was wondering," I said after a moment, tilting my head slightly. "Is that stuff any good?"

She continued to smack the water with her tongue with what I assumed to be enthusiasm and I took that as a yes.

Well. Now I had to know.

I gestured with a finger and a large bubble of the stuff rose, shedding the dust on its surface as it did. I caught the bubble between my fingers and drew it too my mouth, slurping it up—at first with hesitance and then with gusto. It was surprisingly sweet, like someone had added milk and honey to a cup of hot chocolate. Not in a bad way, though. If anything, it reminded me of something my mom would make.

Wiping my mouth, I looked at the Pantry in a new light.

"Huh," I said, honestly surprised. I hadn't realized I was hungry in all the fighting, but I felt better after drinking from the Pantry. If I thought things through, I might be able to lessen the amount of food I needed to bring, because I could just eat when I got to the Pantries. It was something to keep in mind.

But speaking of things I needed to do...

I looked down at myself. Where my shirt wasn't just ripped to shreds, it clung to my chest because of the sweat, and it was all stained some variety of red, purple, and green. My breastplate was flatout gone, lost to the claws of countless monsters; it had been shredded and shattered even before the last of the straps had torn. I guess I couldn't expect too much from the stuff they made for rookies, but...

"Hah," I sighed, looking down at myself and my ruined armor and clothing. "Not even a whole day and I need to buy new armor."