Zane knelt beside the dissipating corpse of the alpha Shadow Drake, his hand hovering over the glowing core that pulsed like an abnormally fast pulsar, whose entire mission was to keep on sending radiation signals from its poles, no matter what.

The quintet gathered around, their breaths kept still, rough from the fight, wounds throbbing despite the fading adrenaline.

"Wait," Zane said, his voice low and urgent, stopping Nova's reach. He wiped blood from his chest cut, wincing but focused. "This core, it's not just loot. Cores from creatures like this, especially an evolved boss monster, regardless of their rank, are incredibly rare. Invaluable, really. They contain concentrated essence: dark energy, regenerative properties, and even evolutionary potential. Alchemists pay fortunes for them; guilds hoard them for upgrades. One like this could boost our abilities, heal deeper wounds, or trade for top-tier gear. We have to protect it from the other guild; there is no telling what is lurking here."

Nova nodded, his leg wound burning as he shifted weight. "Agreed. Let's extract it carefully."

Elesch leaned on her rapier, her side bruised from the squeeze. "I've heard stories that cores like this can even trigger evolutions if refined right. We can't lose it."

Adam flexed his fractured arm, grimacing. "Yeah, dibs on the regen part. Feels like my bones are on fire."

Michael, thigh still seeping blood despite his ice patch, scanned the shadows. "Hurry. This place doesn't stay quiet."

Zane reached forward, his fingers inches from the core's warm glow. But before he could grasp it, a blur of motion erupted from a side tunnel. Figures in sleek, dark uniforms embedded with the French tricolor flag, blue, white, red, swooped in like phantoms.

The French Guild was known for their agile, opportunistic tactics. Their leader, a wiry woman with wind-affinity boots that let her glide silently, snatched the core in a gust-assisted dive. Her team formed a protective wedge around her.

"Merci for the gift!" she called in accented English, smirking as she pocketed the core.

Her comrades unleashed covering fire: gusts of wind to obscure vision, illusory decoys, and earthen barriers rising to block pursuit.

Nova's eyes widened. "No, stop them!"

The quintet surged forward, fury overriding pain. Nova hurled a dagger, aiming for the thief's leg, but a French illusionist warped the air, making it miss by inches. Elesch opened a void rift to pull them back, but the wind user countered with a cyclone that disrupted the spatial tear.

Adam leaped, claws extended, swiping at the nearest French fighter, a melee specialist who parried with a vibrating sword, the clash sending shockwaves that aggravated Adam's fractures.

Zane blurred with Echo Step, trying to flank, but a French teleporter blinked him away mid-stride, slamming him into the ground. Michael summoned ice tendrils to ensnare their feet, but the group's fire mage melted them instantly, the steam providing more cover.

As they pushed, their wounds reopened, Nova's leg gash splitting wider, blood soaking his boot; Elesch's ribs protesting with each breath; Adam's arm hanging limp after a bad block; Zane's chest bleeding fresh; Michael's thigh wound tearing deeper from the strain.

The French were fresh, coordinated, and retreating smartly, using the labyrinth's twists to their advantage. A wall shifted, sealing a path just as Nova lunged through, forcing him back.

"Damn it!" Nova growled, slamming a fist into the stone. "They're gone."

The quintet halted, panting, the chase futile. Their bodies screamed for respite, deep gashes weeping blood, bones grinding, energy depleted.

"We can't keep going like this," Elesch admitted, sliding down a wall to sit. "These wounds are bad. We can't keep letting ourselves get injured like this over and over again."

Adam slumped beside her, clutching his arm. "Yeah. Feels like I got run over twice."

Zane nodded, pressing a hand to his chest. "Rest here. The core's lost, but pushing now gets us killed. The labyrinth's safe for a bit, so gather up enough energy and vitality as you can."

Michael agreed, icing his thigh anew. "Ten minutes. Bind what we can."

They huddled in the cavern's dim glow, tearing strips from cloaks for bandages, applying pressure to staunch flows. Nova shared his one last yellow crystal shard, splitting it five ways for a minor boost, warm energy seeping in, dulling edges, and knitting superficial tears.

Elesch leaned on him, her head on his shoulder; Adam cracked weak jokes to lighten the mood; Zane and Michael scouted lightly, ensuring no ambushes.

Minutes ticked by, five, ten, fifteen. The crystals' remnants worked subtly, wounds clotting, pain receding to a manageable ache. Bruises faded from purple to yellow; gashes scabbed over; bones stabilized, if not fully mended. Nova flexed his leg, stiff, but bearable.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

Elesch stood, testing her ribs. "Enough to move. Not fully recovered, though."

Adam grinned through a wince. "Ready to claw some faces."

The group rose, shaking off stiffness, when footsteps echoed from a nearby tunnel, multiple, deliberate, approaching fast. Nova's daggers flashed out; Elesch's rapier steadied in her shaky hands; Adam's claws extended; Zane blurred slightly; Michael summoned frost in his palms.

"Alert," Nova whispered. "Could be hostiles. Offensive, now!"

They tensed, abilities priming for an attack: Nova coiled to strike first, Elesch prepping a rift, Adam growling low. The footsteps grew louder, shadows lengthening.

Then, three figures emerged: Emma, Col, and Galileo. They looked so relaxed and then tensed when they saw the quintet's uneasy, aggressive stances.

"Whoa, easy!" Emma called. "It's us! The American Guild members! Do you remember us?"

Nova exhaled, daggers lowering. "Emma? Col, Galileo, what the hell?"

Relief washed over them as the trio joined, the group now eight strong. "We heard the fight," Col explained, eyeing their wounds. "Tracked you here. James and Trevor are somewhere. The labyrinth split us before we could get an answer."

Galileo scanned the cavern. "You took down an alpha? Impressive. But what about the core? Where is it? Is it gone?"

"Stolen," Michael grunted. "The French took it when we had just finished our fight."

Emma frowned. "Bastards. We'll get it back later. For now, strength in numbers, and you guys need to heal up."

After a couple more minutes of resting and healing with the trio that had just joined, bringing in supplies to heal some of the wounds for the quintet, they decided to move along with their journey.

"Let's go," Nova said, leading. "The safe zone awaits, and so does payback."

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