The heart of the wendigo was a dungeon core. Claudius, Antonia's twin brother, took his axe and began bashing the crystal, tears running down his cheeks.

Bash.

She would never smile again, or call him a slowpoke.

Bash.

She would never get married. He would never get to tease her that white was not her color, as she stood fuming in a wedding dress.

Bash.

The healers that the wendigo had gotten to would never heal again. The rest might be too scared to stay on as adventurers.

Bash.

It was all for a blasted dungeon core. Not even the Father of Monsters, the enemy they wanted to defeat once and for all.

Crack.

Claudius sunk to the ground, looking at the core, which was split in two. The remaining spiders vanished into thin air. The dungeon borders lifted. Puebleque was Alcandino's now. But for fifty adventurers, a tenth of the entire guild, this didn't matter.

Because they were dead. And all because of a wendigo.

Claudius roared and brought his axe to the nearest wall. He repeated the action again and again, with bones flying in every which direction. Then, his axe hit stone, and he blinked as sparks flew.

There was writing on the walls, and his axe had made a cut right in the middle. He chuckled, then ran a hand through his face.

"Antonia died, the healers died, people fucking died. What do we have to show for it? This," he pointed at the dungeon core, covered in blood and split in half. "And this."

His axe then pointed at the sign.

"What are our orders?" Claudius glared at the berserker who spoke. If the berserkers had not needed motivation to jump into the fray, Antonia might still be alive.

"We get out of here. With any luck, the guild master protected the others," Claudius heard the bitterness in his voice. A part of him thought that Leander had been a coward. To foist the leadership of the more dangerous task onto Antonia. Another part tried to tell him, in a small, sorrowful voice, that if Leander and his shadow mantises swarm had not been with the rest, more than half of the guild could have been wiped out — now.

No one cared to check if the temple had any loot in it. What did a couple of trinkets matter? They had gone inside to stop the spider dungeon core. Not for treasure. And now, most of them were being carried out. Some alive, but crippled. Others with unseeing eyes.

When they got out, they saw that the guild mates they had left behind looked haunted. They had their share of cuts and broken bones. But, Claudius could not see any missing faces.

The berserker marched to Leander and threw the dungeon core in his feet.

"My sister died," the albino informed his guild master. "What did she die for?"

Leander stared at the dungeon core, then back at Claudius.

"There is something bigger than all of us now. A new purpose," Leander began loudly, but Claudius's hands wound around Leander's collar, and he gave the healer a rough shake.

"What did my sister die for? What did all the fifty people who perished in there," Claudius pointed at the temple, eyes blazing. "Die for? So help you if you sprout idealistic nonsense."

"They did die to protect something bigger than themselves," Leander hissed, and his voice carried over the crowd. Claudius raised his fist, and let it hang centimeters away from Leander's face. "Why did you go inside, Claudius? For the loot? No, you went in because you wanted to protect your guild mates. Your sister. If your roles were reversed, Antonia would not have let her anger rule her."

"You know nothing about her," Claudius roared, and his fist had to be stopped by Morris, who had his axe drawn.

"Claudius, back off. If you don't..." Morris was stopped by Leander shaking his head.

"What did you all think? That no one was going to die? We are going up an eldritch horror that forced an entire civilization out of their homes. Just one guild," Leander began bitterly, and the realization that they were way in over their heads downed on them all.

"Do you want to know how many of us would make it out of this mess?" Leander continued, voice unshakable. "As many as my life can pay for!"

At Leander's roar, everyone turned to him. They had seen him like this, just once, when he made them go back up the stairs and face Alklair.

"Because, this," Leander pointed at the temple. "Is the last time I will ever let the S ranks carry the rest of us. We will all risk our lives. We will train like crazy, sharing knowledge freely. By the time we face the Father of Monsters, we will all be SSS rank!"

Claudius let go of Leander, and bowed his head. He had expected an excuse. For things to continue the way they had begun. Instead, Leander was going to break the mold and lead the charge.

"All the old formations, all the old ways of doing things, they are things of the past!" Leander's voice was calmer now. Like the voice of a man who had made peace with the fact that his death was coming. "If we are to survive and bring that thing down, then we are going to have to step up. Claudius, rise your darn head and dry your tears. There is no place in this guild for bowed heads and tears. Mourn her, but don't dishonor her memory. Tomorrow will be a day of mourning. Healers, tend to the wounded. I will prepare the dead for burial."

People watched him with wide eyes, as he went to the nearest corpse, and took out some water and a cloth. Nothing could be done for the tears in the uniforms, but he was not going to allow for those who died bravely to go onto the pyre covered in ash, sweat and blood.