Grabbing Cyrus's forearm, his second-in-command dragged him up the hill towards the dungeon's entrance. The roman offered up sparse protests, eventually falling silent as Shaylah refused to budge on the matter. Even in his foggy, juice-sapped state, the decanus partially agreed with her sentiment. There was no issue with the idea but the execution was a complete disaster. Not only was she exposing her back to potential enemies hiding in the forest, leaving it guarded by a practically drunken man who couldn't even stand straight without teetering back and forth. Alas, it was his unyielding nature, a mind oversaturated with confidence that compelled the drive within him to take on this momentous task without breaks. It was his fault for forcing Shaylah to take such a risky course of action.

His vision blurred, flickering in and out of focus with every unsteady step. The world around him spun. Gritting his teeth and shoving his complaints down his throat, the roman pressed on. He was a sheep, shepherded to safety by the guiding hand of his officer.

Time slipped away. By the time he felt the Sun remove its gaze from his skin, feeling the cold air soothing his muscles, Cyrus had drifted into slumber.

Shaylah, feeling the slack in his arm, turned around. Seeing the roman propped up against the wall snores exiting his mouth, the woman sighed. Her gaze lingered upon the silver sword hanging at his hip. She rubbed her fingers against each other, lips pursed.

The officer approached her leader, placing her hands on either side of his hip.

Cyrus's feet lifted inches above the ground. Shaylah's muscles trembled, sweat glistening upon her skin. Gasping, the dungeon helper gently lowered the roman back onto the ground.

Shaking her arms, the woman disappeared down the tunnel, glancing over her shoulder at the dungeon core's stationary form before turning the corner, her view now blocked by stone.

After a few minutes, the officer returned, a bundle of linked linen shirts hanging in her arms. Approaching the sleeping man, she placed the tarp a few centimetres away from his feet, rolling it out with a nudge. Shaylah grabbed Cyrus's shoulders and pulled them downwards. The body slumped into her chest.

Muscles trembling, the officer lowered him onto the makeshift blanket. Rotating the man so that his hands and feet were no longer lying on a stone, she stood up and surveyed the dungeon core. Nodding several times, Shaylah tiptoed out of the room, vanishing once again behind the corner.

A few hours passed by.

Cyrus awoke to a cold, rough stone surface caressing his face, nostrils clogged with dust. Dragging his hands near his head, he raised his elbows. The roman drove his arm muscles into the ground, rising into a pushup position. In that motion, he slipped his knees underneath the gap.

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The man hopped up. Dusting his hands off, he inspected the surroundings. No matter how Cyrus attempted to recall the process in which he came here, the mental barrier remained in place.

"Have I been drinking again?" he muttered.

"No, but you were being a massive idiot, nearly breaking your mind like that."

Cyrus turned around, looking in Shaylah's direction. He arched an eyebrow, "Are you sure about that," crossing his arms to emphasise his irritated tone.

Mimicking him, his officer replied, "Yes, you were. Not only did you run out of mana, but you also didn't even register the notifications that came with it!"

"No, I-" Cyrus snapped his mouth shut with a click. He opened the notifications section.

[Mana reserves depleted!]

[Vitality --> Mana] is now in effect!]

The roman's anger was redirected, no longer at Shaylah but at himself. "So my general was right after all..." Sighing, he looked up at the officer. "I-I-" Cyrus cleared his throat, his eyes fixated on an impossibly fascinating pebble in the corner. His fingers drummed the side of the hilt of his Gladius, keeping in time to the rapid thumping of his heart. The roman took in a deep breath, "I apologise for being so rude. A-and thank you for the blanket."

Shaylah's lips formed a small crescent, hands untangling from their crossed position. A small laugh bubbled out of her mouth, "You suck at apologies but...I appreciate the attempt."

He extended a hand. She took it. They shook.

With a final wave, Cyrus strolled out of the dungeon, returning to the ditch he had dug yesterday. Reaching the thin line of concrete, the roman conjured up a steady stream and poured it on top of the preexisting foundation. A stream of grey, rock-infested liquid appeared over the directed area, flowing onto the surface from thin air.

The rocky mixture rolled down the sides of the concrete mound like a melting wax candle. After a few minutes of continuous downpour, Cyrus felt a tug at his soul.

[Mana Reserves Depleted!]

Receiving the message, roman switched off the invisible pipe, stemming the flow. Glancing over the massive pile of hardening concrete, Cyrus pursed his lips, "In theory, I should be able to mould this into a wall since I can take it away. So this would just be in reverse" He knew there was a possibility of failure, unable to remember the specific details of the unchangeable, dungeon rules. Unbuckling the metal helmet sitting on his head, Cyrus scratched at his bare chin. "I could ask Shaylah but..." He shook his head. "If I ask her for any more help together, I am gonna lose any and all respect and loyalty she may have had for me. Better take the trial and error method."

Cyrus looked at his mana bar.

Mana:

Regen: [ERROR] [Current 5/min] [Troops outside of [Territory] or [Dungeon] cannot generate mana!]

Total: 20/500 Mana

He harboured ill will towards the blue box's contents, glaring at the minuscule single digit in the "Regen" section. "Five...really? Isn't there any way of making this go quicker?!"

Cyrus screamed in frustration, slamming a fist into the hardening concrete. The icky, grey goo flowed into the crevices and cracks on his skin. Itchy, burning sensations re-ignited within his mind. "Looks like I really am gonna have to ask my 2nd in command for help AGAIN."

Throwing another one-two combo into the sludge mound to sate his fury, the roman jogged towards the dungeon entrance.