Ren glanced around at the faces surrounding him...Yuna, Nautilus, Chest, Lind, and then Shivat and Diavel.
No one spoke. No one objected. And that silence didn't weigh down the atmosphere the way it usually did.
Instead, it carried a sense of acceptance… quiet and unwavering.
Each expression was different, yet one thing stood out clearly: no one looked particularly surprised.
Yuna stood close to Nautilus, her eyes stern, hand loosely resting on the sword at her side.
She said nothing, but it was obvious she had already prepared herself. Nautilus looked toward Diavel and gave a small nod, as if what had just been said merely confirmed what he'd already guessed.
Lind crossed his arms, eyes cold as they flicked over the loot from earlier, then returned forward, apathetic, but not unfocused.
Shivat stayed silent, as though lost in his own thoughts.
Even Chest, who usually supported the group from the back, observing and covering for any gaps, neither frowned nor hesitated.
He simply opened his inventory, checked a few potions, and carefully counted the number of healing items. His movements... calm to the point of being distant.
Ren stood there, hands tightening slightly at his sides. Slowly, he came to a realization, sharp and clear as a blade slicing through the dust- and sweat-filled air...
...they all already knew.
They knew beforehand. Prepared beforehand. Someone must have told them, or maybe... they told each other.
In some meeting. A rushed strategy discussion after a battle. Or maybe just through glances, nods, a quick message in a private group chat he was never added to.
He couldn't remember the last time someone had voluntarily told him something important.
'Why doesn't anyone… say anything to me? Why are they always keeping secrets?'
It didn't feel like betrayal. No, it wasn't that severe. But it was... being left out.
Like in a painting that was becoming more and more complete, he was just a faded blur on the edge of the canvas.
Not hated. Not driven away. Just no longer counted.
He thought about raising his hand, asking something, "Where's the boss?", "What's our strategy?", "Has anyone scouted ahead?"...
...but he knew, deep down, that someone else already had the answers. And worse, they might not think he needed to know.
No one looked at Ren. Not a single glance, not a single nod of encouragement.
Only the sound of footsteps beginning to move, weapons sliding back into sheaths, the formation taking shape from muscle memory.
Ren remained where he was, one step behind everyone else.
The emptiness in his chest spread slowly, coldly. It wasn't fear of the boss.
It wasn't doubt in his own abilities.
It was the question, quiet but piercing, that echoed inside: If I wasn't here… would anyone notice?
Would staying in this group still help him grow?
Ren asked himself that in silence, as if waiting for some voice inside to speak back.
But there was only the faint whisper of wind through the cracks in the stone, and the flickering glow of phosphorescent ore casting light on the faces of those walking ahead.
He tried to reassure himself with words that had long lost meaning: "At least… I'm still learning something, right?"
But deep down, even he didn't believe it. Every time he saw the way Diavel commanded, the way everyone followed without question, the way Yuna no longer looked back to meet his gaze like before, it all felt like a silent confirmation: he was no longer essential.
Ren slowed his pace, just a little. No one noticed. No one needed to notice. It was as if his presence… didn't make any difference.
He knew the distance between them would only grow. Not because anyone was pushing him away, but because everyone was moving forward, without turning back.
The group's rhythm, the tactical decisions, the new bonds forming, it all moved like a finely-tuned machine with no space for a misfitting part.
A useless part.
He bit his lip. Wondering, if one day he fell, would any of them stop?
Or would they just keep walking, cold and indifferent, like a line of code already written, unwavering, unhesitating?
No one answered. And no one needed to.
Only the flickering light, casting shadows on the damp stone wall, reflecting in Ren's eyes an expression even he wasn't sure anymore… was it blurred by darkness, or had everyone already turned away long ago?
And deep beneath the earth, he suddenly understood: not every step taken together means walking the same path.
Under the pale blue glow of the phosphorescent stones embedded in the cave walls, the group moved forward like a silent current flowing through the underground.
The steady sound of footsteps echoed off the hollow rock ceiling, merging with the faint clinking of armor to form a somber rhythm, like the breath of the mine itself.
No one spoke. No one needed to. Perhaps because everyone knew: their steps now were carrying them closer to something too serious for jokes.
Diavel led at the front, never looking back, never slowing down, as if he wasn't just leading the path, but was the path.
As the silence began to thicken with weight, Diavel finally spoke.
His voice rang out clearly...not loud, not forceful, yet naturally pressed into the minds of everyone present.
"The monster below... is a golem. Its name is Rockjaw. An ancient being, crystallized from mineral veins that have absorbed geothermal energy for centuries…"
Diavel paused for a moment, as if weighing something in his mind.
"It's not an ordinary boss."
Ren furrowed his brows slightly. That sentence didn't sound like someone merely reciting information from a quest.
He wasn't too surprised that Diavel knew about the monster, quests often came with basic descriptions about the enemies.
From appearance, name, or common locations, that wasn't anything unusual.
But something about it… something unexplained had taken root in his chest.
He kept walking steadily, but his eyes stayed fixed on Diavel's back.
Every word, every pause Diavel made seemed calculated, as if from a script written long ago.
"Rockjaw has the ability to generate intermittent tremors, not strong enough to collapse the mine, but enough to split up the team and throw off our attack rhythm.
The deepest layer where it hides has always been geologically unstable, but recently, the tremors have become more frequent. I believe that's a sign of its awakening."
Shivata, near the end of the line, broke the tension with a dry laugh: "You believe, huh? Sounds like you're reading from an admin script."
A few soft chuckles followed, but Diavel didn't react. He stopped at a fork in the tunnel, raising his hand to the rocky wall, as if sensing something invisible beneath the cold stone.
"Not a belief," he answered after a beat. "I've seen a portion of that energy when the monsters began rising to the upper levels. The swirling air, it's like a shift in pressure whenever Rockjaw moves beneath the earth."
Ren felt his heartbeat quicken. "You saw it?" he asked, softly, almost a whisper.
Diavel tilted his head, voice quiet but razor-sharp: "Some things can be sensed without needing to be seen."
This time, no one else spoke. The words sounded philosophical, but to Ren, they felt more like a subtle deflection.
Not everyone noticed it, but he did. Diavel knew more than he was saying. Far more.
Ren looked at the others. Yuna kept a blank expression, eyes locked forward as if trying to avoid something.
Nautilus kept his head low, both hands gripping his sword tightly, lips pressed together like he was fighting to keep something unsaid.
No one asked further. No one demanded to know more. As if they were all used to Diavel deciding everything, the intel, the direction, the strategy… even the truth.
Only Ren was still trying to piece together the loose fragments.
He remembered the quest he had skimmed, the vague details posted on the board, the unclear descriptions that never once mentioned the boss's name, let alone its tremor-inducing abilities or the instability of the deeper layers.
He hadn't seen any information about an ancient golem slumbering beneath the earth.
Though he hadn't been here long, maybe Ren simply hadn't met all the NPCs yet, maybe he hadn't unlocked the hidden quests.
He tried to calm himself with these thoughts. Diavel, he's better than me. More responsible, always ready to help weaker players.
"You've been down there before, haven't you?" In the end, curiosity won out. Ren asked, not loudly, but just enough for the one leading to hear.
Diavel paused for half a second. Just half a second. Then he turned back, locking eyes with Ren, eyes sharp as a blade sheathed in silence.
"Sometimes, to lead others… you have to take the first step." He spoke like a sage, then turned away again, not waiting for the next question.
Ren said nothing more.
But within him, a quiet suspicion began to stir, tangled with the sense of isolation he never wanted to admit, that he was walking in a group where all the roles had already been assigned.
And his role… might just be a lost spectator in a play already reaching its climax.
And if that was true, then the biggest question was no longer "What is Rockjaw?" but:
What is Diavel hiding?