It took me roughly twenty hours to name everyone, and it would be an understatement to say that I was sick and tired of naming people. Rivena helped me get through it, which I was genuinely grateful for. Without her, my pain would have lasted so much longer, and I wouldn't have been able to go nearly as far as I had.

I'll have to find something for her or her Sentinels to use. Maybe a skill or something they can use as a symbol. Meh, I'll figure it out later. For now, I need my scouts training for the future.

I ended up working with them to increase their stealth, as they would need to move without being seen or heard in the coming nights. While trying to help them move more quietly, I also spoke with the equipment procurement team, who had some concerns about being able to carry everything.

While keeping my eye on the scouts, I grabbed the old bedsheets, folding them over and tying the ends together, before draping them over my skeletal brethren, creating makeshift packs that just might be able to hold small amounts of gear. It wouldn't be perfect for the moment, but we'd left all the dungeoneer's backpacks and bags on the second floor, not expecting to have been stuck here so soon.

With that concern out of the way, I made sure each of the scouts had at the very least learned [Stealth], before moving on to the combat team. Most of them were sparring, while two others were trying to decide how to maximize the effectiveness of their gear, and numbers.

While I listened in on their discussion, I wasn't going to participate in it. I would help where I could, but if we couldn't show a capacity to think, learn, and discover, we would never be able to break out of the dungeon, which had been conqured by those exact qualities the dungeoneers showed.

While listening to their conversation, I watched as the others sparred, swinging the few decent weapons we had since we knew they wouldn't break nearly as easily as the other ones we had. It was strangely calming, seeing blades and clubs and spears moving to strike each other. Every now and then someone would get a little bit creative, throwing a punch, or feinting. It was already a major improvement to before, where skeletons would just wave around whatever they had, as if they were more trying to get your attention than trying to kill you.

I wonder if my presence had some sort of boosting effect? I didn't see any buffs or anything in my status. Might just be how they behave normally when they have gear.

I didn't really want to go down the rabbit hole of potential undead intelligence, as I had no idea if it was a shallow or deep hole. It didn't really matter so long as they could kill whatever they fought. If they gained a skill through sparring, all the better for me.

Personally, I didn't want to be the one fighting, as those on the frontlines were often the first to die. However, fighting on the frontlines would be the only way I could level up, as it seemed I only got experience when I personally delivered the fatal blow. I had thought about capturing dungeoneers during the time I had been recovering between naming skeletons, but I'd dismissed the idea as it was far too inefficient, and would only breed disloyalty.

For now I'd have to join the combat team on their excursions in order to gain any meaningful experience, although I still wouldn't put all my faith in them and their capabilities. However, my fighting style still had way too many holes.

Thus, once I'd had my fill of debate on how and where and when to fight with any number of skeletons, I just grabbed two who were sparring, and told them to both attack me as much as they could, and I would try to block, evade, or deflect them to the best of my ability.

It wasn't a great idea, and I was bound to probably break something again, but at this point, a few broken bones would be well worth it if I ever had to face off against two people at once. I kept both my short sword and my shield, since if it came down to a real fight, I didn't want to be without either one.

At first, they didn't attack me all that heavily, or that quickly. However, when I used the shield to block an overhead slash, and swinging my sword up to knock a spear off course, then it got a bit harder. They both began using more than just their weapons, as kicks were sent at me from both of them, a broken longsword would swing at my left while a spear would be jabbed at my head.

After maybe a minute, I had to forfeit as I simply couldn't keep up. Fighting two people on my own was much harder than I'd originally imagined. I was still glad to have made the attempt, and I was sure I was going to continue doing that in the future.

With Rivena healing the wounded already, I ended up just resting against the back wall, watching as my Hp slowly ticked up. I hadn't gained any injuries, but the scratches and scrapes I'd suffered from the two were more than enough to bring me down to about half my maximum.

Two of the Sentinels watched me like hawks, and I almost shrugged.

I did put them in charge of keeping Rivena safe, after all. Can't really blame them for being as zealous as they are.

I ended up waiting for roughly an hour and a half while Rivena finished healing the others, and recovering her spent Mp, before she began focusing on treating my much more minor injuries. She said nothing as she used her magic, which was perfectly fine with me. For the most part, I didn't necessarily want friends among the dead, as our lives were still very short, considering how weak we were. It was safer to not get attached to anyone or anything, since in the current situation, anything and everything could be taken or destroyed at a moments notice.

Soon I was sparring again, although this time I had toned it down so that I was only blocking the attacks of one skeleton this time, instead of two. It was a bit easier, but I still found myself reacting a bit slowly at times, not entirely dodging or not entirely negating the force of a blow.

That was when four of the five scouts ran over to all of us, and hurriedly stopped us from continuing our sparring. The whole room went silent as they explained that they'd heard something coming from outside the stone door. It was heavily muffled, but it sounded like the voices of dungeoneers.

If I had blood, it would have gone cold. I activated [Stealth] and slowly, carefully made my way over to the door, and put my head up against the stone to listen.

It was faint, and almost indiscernable, but there were defenitely people on the other side of the doors. I looked back at the combat team. Three of them had bows, and I pointed to each of them, and then to the door. It seemed they understood my meaning, as the three of them nocked an arrow, even though we only had a small number to use.

I looked to my scouts, and found that each of them was holding some sort of weapon, ranging from knives, to rusted swords, to a single axe. They seemed ready to jump out at whoever was on the other side of the door. I got ready to open it up, hoping to give our new friends quite the surprise.

-----------------------

"I told you, guarding some stupid set of stairs while the best dungeoneering teams hoard all the best jobs, keeping all the gold and experience to themselves, wouldn't get us anywhere closer to our goal! We can't afford to keep staying in the Guild sanctioned inns! The beds there are worse than if we stayed in a stable! That's why I've got this map here." Harold spoke, his gruff voice a bit frustrated, since the rest of his party, all two of them, had been trying to argue against him so that they could go back to the stairs leading to the second floor. However, he knew that there was a secret room around here somewhere, and that inside was a treasure of some sort. All they had to do was find it, and they'd be able to find a better place to stay than any Guild sanctioned inn, with their beds as hard as rocks, food nastier than the worst gruel, and their complete lack of washrooms.

"Harold, we were getting decent money by just guarding the stairs. All we need to do is go back, and we can make enough to stay at a decent inn tonight. We can get a different job tomorrow, and save a little bit. The only reason we have to stay in the Guild inns is because you keep drinking it all away!" Johnny retorted, resting his hand on the pommel of his short sword. His sister Emily, nodded at those words.

"If you could get a hold of your drinking problem, we might be able to save enough to get ourselves out of this slump that we've been in for months. We might even be able to afford new gear, if we didn't have to spend everything on you being drunk, and unhappy."

Harold grumbled. These damn kids had no idea how hard he had tried to get this map. If his source was to be trusted, and Harold felt he had a good eye for liars and cheats, then this chest would be enough to set him up for weeks. Granted, with how the brats were treating him, he didn't really feel like sharing. He mulled it over, deciding to kill them just before they got back to the stairs, and feeding their bodies to the goblins. Damn things would either eat or haul off any dungeoneers that got killed here on the third floor.

Standing in front of the door, which didn't look at all like a door since it seemed to be nothing more than solid wall to the naked eye, Harold thought he could hear the faint sounds of combat on the other side. When he mentioned it, the two brats immediately shut their mouths. They were obedient when there was danger, but they'd become too much of a pain for him to keep hauling around. He had Johnny and Emily stand in front of the door, saying that they were perfectly safe, trusting that they couldn't actually tell the door was in front of them, while he felt around for the switch.

Before he could find it however, the door began opening by itself, with surprising speed. On the other side, were more than a dozen armed skeletons.