The atmosphere inside Floor 40's main building felt heavier than any battlefield I had walked through recently.
Maybe because battlefields were simple.
Kill or be killed.
Move forward or die.
But this?
This was humans.
Humans sitting around a long conference table trying to understand monsters that used to be people exactly like them.
The large room remained quiet except for the occasional rustling of paper and the distant sounds of construction outside the SafeZone. Despite everything happening, Zethara still moved forward relentlessly. Blacksmiths continued forging equipment. Priests crafted recovery potions. Production classes sorted monster materials.
Life refused to stop.
Even grief couldn't pause survival inside the tower.
I sat beside Zeref near the center of the conference table while his hand remained tightly intertwined with mine the entire time.
Not once did he let go.
Even when Fiona started speaking.
Even when Callian questioned something.
