Stephen would have liked to rest longer. Unfortunately, he knew time was ticking. Not only did he have to be out of the dungeon by the time the Breakout happened, but he was also wary of any unpredictable event happening should he stay too long.
Another reason for ending his rest was his recurring thoughts about the snake lady. Rationally, he knew looking at her would only delay him. It wasn't even a guarantee she would be willing to get helped by a human, what with him being a four-leg humanoid more like a frog than a snake person.
Still, the imprisoned female had woken up some time ago, and her surprise upon seeing all her captors dead and piled up wasn't quiet. While before, Stephen had been content to let her be and delay the moment when he would need to approach her. Now he felt obliged not to ignore her presence.
Stephen was still wary of her, especially now that she was awake. The observation he had made before about how she could easily constrict him with her tail was still fresh in his mind. Thus, he took some time to make a net with what ropes he had, preferring to value his life over whatever amount of trust he could build with the captive.
It took him a while to craft his net, not finding the proper knots to make on the first try. Eventually, Stephen went closer to the sole living prisoner. He was taken aback by how much taller than him she was. With her tail, it was obvious, of course, but her humanoid half showed to be larger than a human in general. Based on her upper half, Stephen estimated she would easily be beyond two meters tall if she were human. At that moment, Stephen was thankful she was hurt and bound and that he had taken precautions before getting closer to her. Stephen also benefited from her wounded state, not getting distracted as much by her nakedness. He could see she was undoubtedly a gorgeous girl. Going by her face, she did seem young, maybe around twenty years old, although it was hard to guess considering the difference in species.
However, the first thing that attracted Stephen's gaze, as opposed to her body shape, was her eyes. It was like finding gems in a cloudy sea. Her slitted pupils, albeit off-putting, were to be expected considering her race. Her irises were much more unique, mesmerising even. It started at the centre with an amethyst-coloured outline of the pupil, giving it a more diamond-like shape, gleaming with a desire to live. The rest of her irises were a grey periwinkle sea with patterns like waves and foam. Despite the apparent tiredness and wariness of the girl, Stephen could see she had yet to give up.
Despite her sunken oval face from lack of food, she looked at her strange saviour's every movement, her will still unbroken. It didn't matter that her blond hair, whose arctic-blue shade almost couldn't be seen, was sticking to her skin. Nor did it matter that her thin arms were tied above her head, the rope cutting into her pale skin. As for her naked state, it was much harder to appreciate the young lady's curvy figure when her skin was marred by scars and covered in blood and sweat. Stephen's eyes only paused over her upper body briefly before lingering on her tail.
The blood that coated it, flowing sparsely from one coil to another, highlighted the unstained scales. At the same time, the humidity gave each scale a stronger shine. The unstained scales were of various shades of greens, ranging from vivid emerald and jade to a more gentle turquoise and celadon. As for those covered in blood, their colour changed from their sea-like hues to more earthy ones, going to brown shades of moss, wood and brick.
Looking back into her eyes, Stephen wasn't surprised when he noticed he couldn't understand what she said. The language uncannily reminded him of snakes' hissing and, more significantly, of how parseltongue was described in the "Harry Potter" world. He didn't even try to understand what she said once he noticed she spoke in an alien language.
He still introduced himself, pointing towards himself while saying his first name. Then continued to mime after he took out the medicals supplies he had left to show what he intended to do: He grabbed a rag which he soaked in water and swiped along his arm, then showed her how he planned to use either bandage or suture threads to tend to her wounds. A few repeats were needed, and alterations, but eventually, the girl seemed to understand. If going by her smile and repeated nods.
What was harder was to make her accept that he wanted to cover her tail with a net, as he wasn't willing to trust her. For that, Stephen took a rope which he looped around his arm and started tightening. He then mimed dying, either by suffocation or just plain death. She quickly understood what he wanted to do but wasn't as sympathetic to his fears. Considering she was bound in a cage, starved and wounded, at the mercy of an alien stranger, Stephen couldn't blame her. He was mainly annoyed by the time lost, worried he would regret his caring attitude later.
The net was still put around her tail despite her vehement protests. Those were only vocal, though, even if Stephen wasn't aware if it was by intent or by tiredness that she didn't move. Each corner of the net was tied to the cage, after which the human delver cleaned her body. All the while striving not to get distracted by her nakedness.
Being this close to her, Stephen could more easily see her wounds and her body's details, especially her scales. Her tail started at her hips, her navel still visible, but her butt was non-existent while scales supposedly hid her private parts. Above, on her front side, some scales were still present along her abdomen, up to under her breasts. On her back, though, they were visible along and around her spine, as well as on her shoulders. A few small ones also revealed themselves on her face, the upper side of her cheeks, and her forehead. The scales and eyes were the only inhuman part of her upper body. Stephen wouldn't have been surprised if she had pointed ears, frills, or claws. But apparently, the colour of her scales wasn't a sign of an affinity to the water.
It was reassuring, proof she was landed-bound despite not giving more details about where she came from. As for knowing if her kind would end up being enemies, Stephen would also like to know but didn't have the means. Communications were a tricky thing with language barriers.
However, Stephen's inability to heal all of her wounds was unfortunate. Indeed, some were across the tailed section of her body. As such, Stephen had no idea how to suture the wounds. In most cases, the scales were dented or cut apart, and it seemed necessary to remove them before closing the injury. Which was, of course, not something Stephen had any intention of doing. Who knew how it might hurt his patient even more?
It took him about an hour before he deemed having done enough. It had started becoming a matter of will rather than skill around halfway through his task, their uninterrupted closeness making Stephen painfully aware of how attractive he found that girl to be. His last fight was distant enough in his mind to let him relax a bit. In contrast, it also became easier for his thoughts to wander away from the fighting, the wounds, and the urgency of his situation.
It shouldn't have surprised him to get startled when his patient decided he had lingered enough around her body. She didn't try to hurt him, but her shrill tone as she spoke was enough to let Stephen return to his senses. Despite not knowing what she was saying, he was aware he had been looking at each wound a few times too many. Before, he might have convinced himself that it was to ensure he hadn't missed any injury and that his job was well done. Now that the young lady wasn't content to let him care for her in silence, Stephen couldn't delude himself any longer.
He had to continue his delve.
That interlude had been a good way for Stephen to stop worrying about the risks he was taking. Yet good things never lasted. Putting himself into the mindset he had when he first entered was distressingly tricky. He had already gone through life-and-death fights and was aware of how much he valued his life. It would've been easier to keep marching forward if he had never stopped.
Ultimately, the same reason he had extended his pause allowed him to psych himself up. He had saved that girl from a fate no doubt worth than death. If he gave up now -not that he could without dying, but still- it would mean subjecting her to more suffering. It might have been easy to put the reasons for her wounds at the back of his mind once he couldn't see them so vividly. It didn't remove the fact that she had been tortured and possibly assaulted. What fate awaited her and the two other tailed beings was unknown, yet Stephen didn't want to know.
What mattered was for him to kill all of their captors' kin.
Ready once more, Stephen went toward the unexplored part of the dungeon, his shield on his back, as was his machete. His slingshot was in his left hand, the other carrying a bag containing his other spear-like weapons and a pouch filled with rocks on the top. He would drop the bag at the first sign of a coming fight. His other supplies were left in the hut, as he had seen the enemy's advantage over speed. Stephen believed he would still be close enough to retreat to this cavern if needed.
The gallery immediately split into two paths on the right and left sides. It couldn't be seen from the inside of the cave, the various spires growing along the floor and ceiling obstructing the view. As he kept moving, Stephen could see the path on the right went slightly downward along a gentle slope, leading into another cavern. On the left, though, stairs could be seen. Large, gouged out and slippery stairs. The choice was almost immediate. Stephen did not like his odds if he had to meet enemies while on the left path. Not only would he be disadvantaged in height, but the smoothed-out stairs would make it a hazard to keep his balance if he had to fight in the middle of them.
What worried him, however, was why he had a choice. The worst explanation would be if it were a labyrinth. Something Stephen dearly hoped wasn't the case. It would make the dungeon a death trap rather than the opportunity he had imagined. The fifty hours he was granted from the dungeon's opening to its Breakout seemed a short time to explore a labyrinth filled with deadly monsters. The only way Stephen knew never to get lost in a maze -so long as it was static- was also the longest unless luck was on his side. Following the same wall towards the exit wasn't an efficient solution.
Stephen could observe what lay inside as the cave on the right path became more visible. It was much smaller than where he was a moment before, yet it also seemed less spacious. The entire cave was filled with mushrooms grown inside wooden crates. While they weren't luminous like the moss, many torches made with moss were placed around each box. Tending to this farm were five frog people spaced out from each other.
The usual spires could be seen along the walls, although none were in the middle of the cavern, safe for five pillars linking floor and ceiling. Midway through the cave, a hut had been built on the right side, barely large enough for two frog persons to occupy. It seemed almost too easy compared to the more than twenty clustered individuals he had previously dealt with.
Not seeing a way to find if there was a trap other than by attacking one of them, Stephen put down his bag and took a harpoon with him before moving towards the closest frog. Once in position, he put down his shield and harpoon, then loaded his slingshot. Taking his time to aim proved good, as he struck true across the enemy's back. When the enemy reacted and moved toward him, Stephen had already launched another stone, the ensuing head strike felling his first foe. After that, he took out his shield and a harpoon before rushing forward. To have split up enemies made it much more manageable. All they had as weapons was a knife, letting Stephen charge them unimpeded. He bashed his second foe before skewering him, having the reflex to make his thrust brief so he could pull back his weapon, a problem he had faced too often during his past fight. The third and four enemies were dealt similarly, while the last was slashed with his machete. The harpoon was left in the fourth body, the novice delver not managing to repeat his trick as often as he'd liked.
As the fight ended, Stephen couldn't help but stay on his toes, wary of reinforcements. When none came after a few minutes, he could breathe and gather back his equipment. The corpses were dragged behind the hut, which Stephen put inside the cabin, devoid of their equipment. After that, the lone warrior tended to his wound, enjoying a short rest, before continuing on his path.