I groaned as I pulled myself out of bed, rubbing the lingering drowsiness from my eyes. The air was still cool, the dim light from the lantern barely illuminating the small room. I sighed, shaking off the fatigue, and started tidying up. If I didn’t get moving, we’d end up late, and that was the last thing we needed for a mission like this.

I quickly dressed, fastening my belt and strapping my twin swords to my hips before reaching for my dark red scarf. Wrapping it snugly around my neck, I took a moment to exhale deeply. Alright, time to get the others up.

Turning toward the other beds, I walked up to where Kael and Kaldor were still sprawled out. "Wake up," I called out, shaking Kael's shoulder slightly before moving to Kaldor. "We’re leaving soon, and if you two don’t hurry, we’re going to be late."

"Kaldor, Kael. Get up. It’s time for the mission."

Kaldor groaned like a dying man and sat up halfway, his furred ears twitching in resistance. His eyes were barely open, and he swayed a little before giving up and flopping back onto the bed. Then, as if realizing he needed to wake up, he clenched his fists, took a deep breath, and punched himself on both cheeks with a loud smack!

I raised a brow. "What are you doing?"

Kaldor wobbled for a moment, then immediately collapsed face-first onto the floor. For a second, I thought he had knocked himself out, but after a sluggish groan, he pushed himself up, rubbing his eyes. "Mhm… I’ll prepare the items… good luck with him."

I sighed. That left Kael.

Kael, buried under his blankets, let out a muffled grunt. "No."

"Kael."

"I refuse." His voice was full of frustration, like a child being asked to wake up for school.

I grabbed his blanket and gave it a solid tug. "Come on, we’re gonna be late—"

But Kael clung to it like his life depended on it. "Over my dead body."

I pulled harder. Kael pulled back. We entered an intense battle of willpower, where I tried to yank him out of bed while he stubbornly held onto the sheets like a barnacle on a rock.

Only when a knock came at the door did I pause.

"Sylas? Mira?"

"We’ve been waiting forever," Sylas’ voice came through, sounding more amused than annoyed. "What’s taking so long in there?"

"Are you guys even awake?" Mira added.

I sighed, dropping Kael onto the floor with a thud. "We might be delayed a bit. Kael is protesting."

The door burst open.

I gulped as I watched Sylas and Mira step inside, both standing over Kael like vengeful spirits.

Kael, now free from my grasp, happily crawled back into bed, wrapping himself in his blanket like a satisfied cat. "Oh, good. You guys are here. You can tell Duke to let me sleep—"

I backed away slowly. I sensed imminent danger.

Sylas and Mira exchanged glances. Then, without a word, Sylas conjured an ice shard—roughly the size of my forearm—and let it hover ominously over Kael’s bed. Her other hand flicked through the air as she muttered an incantation. A steady stream of water began dripping from the shard, running down onto Kael’s blanket and onto his body.

For a second, nothing happened.

Then—

"AAAHHHHHH!!!"

Kael shot out of bed like he had been struck by lightning, his scream echoing through the room.

Before he could fully regain his senses, Mira followed up with a gust of wind, knocking him back onto the floor in a dazed, shivering mess.

He sat up, hugging his arms. "W-WHAT THE HELL!?"

Sylas and Mira smiled innocently.

"Look at that," Mira said. "He’s awake."

Sylas smirked, twirling the remaining water around her finger. "Told you it’d work."

Kaldor, fully awake now, adjusted his shoulder armor and let out a sigh of relief. "At least I wasn’t the last one up." He picked up Kael’s jacket and threw it over the frozen rogue. "Put this on. We’re heading out."

Kael, still visibly shaking, glared at Sylas and Mira. "Warm me up with fire magic, now. Or I swear I’ll catch a cold and blame you."

Sylas and Mira looked at each other, then grinned.

Kael immediately regretted his words.

Before he could protest, they both raised their hands and cast a heating spell. Not a comfortable, gentle warmth—but an intense, sweltering wave of heat. Within seconds, Kael's face turned bright red, and his hair stood up from the sudden temperature shift.

He threw his jacket on, brushing off his pants, and muttered under his breath, "The devils walk among us…"

I chuckled as I looked out the window. The sky was pitch black—midnight. I had warned everyone earlier that the mission required us to head out at night, but I figured my friends would struggle to wake up. Unlike them, I had years of experience staying up late watching movies and playing games.

A voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Duke!" Sylas called from outside. "If you don’t get down here now, I’ll make you suffer worse than Kael!"

I gulped, quickly closing the window. "Coming!"

With that, I hurried downstairs, where everyone was waiting.

Late at night like this, we had to be quiet as we slipped out of the inn. The streets were eerily silent, bathed in the soft glow of starlight. The night sky stretched endlessly above us, stars twinkling like tiny lanterns.

I pulled out the map. "We’re heading south. The fortress is in that direction."

As we walked, Kael sneezed.

Sylas and Mira looked smug.

Kael glared at them. "You did this to me."

"You asked us to warm you up," Mira reminded him.

Sylas mimicked his earlier plea, holding her hands together dramatically. "P-Please warm me up or I’ll catch a cold!"

Kael scowled. "I don’t sound like that!"

"You kinda do," I said.

Kael shot me a betrayed look. "you too, Duke?"

As Kael continued arguing with Sylas and Mira, Kaldor walked silently behind me, seemingly uninterested in their antics.

I turned to him. "How come you’re not as miserable waking up this late?"

He chuckled. "Habit, I guess."

I raised an eyebrow. "From what?"

"Back in Elna Dorei with my family."

I listened as he explained. Beastkin were divided into three clans: Gakija, who resembled lions; Lupija, who took after wolves; and Katrija—his own clan—who bore traits of bears. Each clan had its own patriarch, and twice a year, they gathered for a grand event called the Star Catching Festival. During that time, the stars shone brightest in the sky, illuminating the entire forest.

"It was a tradition for us to make wishes upon the stars," Kaldor said, his voice carrying a nostalgic tone. "One year, I overslept and missed the whole thing. The next morning, I cried my eyes out." He chuckled at the memory. "Ever since then, I made it a habit to wake up in the middle of the night, sneaking out of my hut just to stare at the stars and pray for my people."

I smiled slightly. "Sounds like a nice tradition."

He glanced at me. "What about you? How are you so used to staying up late?"

I hesitated for a second before coming up with a reasonable answer. "Well… I used to read books at night a lot. My mom would confiscate them when she caught me, putting them on a high shelf I could never reach—even now, I’d need a chair or a good jump to get them."

Kaldor chuckled, shaking his head.

Behind us, the argument was still going on.

I sighed, turning back to them before smacking all three on the head—not too hard, just enough to make my point.

"Enough," I said. "People are sleeping, and you’re being loud."

Kael rubbed his head, scowling. "My sleep got ruined too, you know."

Sylas barely reacted, tilting her head at me with an amused smile. "That’s fair. But he deserved it." She pointed at Kael.

Mira, on the other hand, laughed as she ruffled my hair in retaliation. "Did you really have to hit me too? I was just helping!"

"Helping me lose my hearing," Kael muttered.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Kael groaned dramatically. "I was waking up normally. Then someone decided to turn my bed into an ice bath!"

Mira grinned. "And you’re still complaining? You should be thanking us!"

Kael gave her a deadpan stare. "Oh, yes. Thank you, Mira. I love waking up feeling like I was thrown into a frozen river and then immediately set on fire. Best morning of my life."

Kaldor chuckled. "Could’ve been worse."

Kael shot him a suspicious look. "How?"

Kaldor gave a small, thoughtful nod. "Could’ve been an actual frozen river."

Kael groaned, muttering under his breath about betrayal from all sides.

I smirked. "Well, after this mission, we’re getting a week off. This job pays more than all our previous missions combined."

That seemed to lift everyone's spirits. Sylas immediately perked up. "A week off, huh? Maybe I’ll finally get a chance to sleep in for once."

Kael scoffed. "Watch me sleep for an entire week out of spite."

Mira rolled her eyes. "Or, I don’t know, we could do something fun instead of watching you turn into a hibernating bear."

Kaldor blinked. "Hey."

Mira smirked. "Not you, Kaldor. You’re the good kind of bear."

After nearly an hour of walking, we finally arrived.

This… was the fortress?

We all stood there, frozen in disbelief, staring at what could barely be called ruins. It wasn’t an abandoned luxurious palace, nor a looming haunted fortress—it was a few sad-looking chunks of rock barely peeking out from the sand.

Sylas slowly pulled out the mission drawing and compared it to the reality before us. The sketch depicted towering stone walls, an imposing gate, and an air of mystery. The reality? A couple of worn-down rocks sticking out like a bad joke.

"...You're kidding, right?" Kael broke the silence.

Mira rubbed her temples. "We traveled all this way… for this?"

"I told you we should’ve asked for more details," Sylas sighed, shaking her head.

Kael, taking full advantage of the situation, turned on his heel with a contented smile. "Well, looks like the fortress got wiped out by a sandstorm. Mission’s a bust. Oh no. Guess we have to go back now." He stretched, already fantasizing about getting back to sleep. "Man, such a shame. A real tragedy—"

As he tried to sneak away, Kaldor casually reached out and grabbed him by the hood, yanking him back like an owner catching a runaway cat.

"Urgh—let me go!" Kael groaned, squirming in Kaldor’s grasp.

"Nope," Kaldor said simply.

I walked ahead, inspecting the scattered remains. This had to be the right place. The spread of the ruins alone told me that, at some point, this fortress was massive—at least 200 meters wide before it got buried. But if there was still something left underground, we needed a way inside.

We spread out, examining every pile of rubble and sand for any sign of an entrance. After several minutes of mostly kicking rocks and sighing, Kael suddenly called out.

"Hey! I think I found something!"

We rushed over, gathering around him as he stood in front of a small mound of sand.

Sylas raised a brow. "You found… a pile of sand?"

Kael crossed his arms. "I think something’s buried under it," he clarified, knocking on the sand pile. Instead of the soft, muffled sound we expected, there was a distinct thunk.

We all froze.

"That’s… solid," Mira said.

I immediately knelt down and started sweeping away the sand, but Sylas placed a hand on my shoulder. "Let me handle it," she said. "Everyone, close your eyes and cover your mouths."

We quickly stepped back as Sylas positioned herself in front of the mound, holding her wand out while shielding her face with her other hand. She began chanting, the air around us shifting with the force of gathering magic.

The moment she finished, a powerful gust of wind blasted forward, kicking up a storm of sand. Even with my eyes closed, I could feel the grains pelting against my skin. A loud whoosh filled the air, followed by silence.

We coughed, stepping forward, and the first thing we saw was a massive double-door entrance, now fully uncovered.

Mira whistled. "Well… that’s definitely a door."

Kael groaned. "And here I was hoping I was wrong."

Kaldor picked up two broken planks, handing one to Sylas. "Can you burn one end?"

Sylas nodded, lighting the tip with a small flame. Kaldor took the torch and held it high. "I'll go first." Then, he turned to Kael and smirked. "You’re going last."

Kael’s eye twitched. "Why do I have to go last?"

"Because you tried to leave," I said simply.

Kael grumbled under his breath, but accepted his fate as we pushed open the wooden doors, revealing a staircase descending into pitch darkness.

We took a deep breath and stepped inside.

Sylas said that she will ocassionally freeze a small part of the wall to mark it in case they are lost inside.

The walls weren’t grand or decorated, just worn stone with the occasional ripped portrait hanging awkwardly. The paintings were unsettling—formal family portraits where every member stared directly forward, their expressions eerily blank.

"...Okay, why do these look like they're about to come to life and curse us?" Kael muttered, side-eyeing the nearest painting.

Mira shivered. "Please don’t say that."

Sylas and Mira were walking ahead of me, huddled a little closer than usual. I wasn’t about to comment on it, but they were definitely unnerved.

Kaldor kept his torch high, illuminating scattered debris—broken glass, torn clothes, old books, rusted planks… even a sword.

The silence stretched, and the more we walked, the heavier the air felt.

Finally, Sylas broke the tension. "...What exactly are we supposed to do down here?"

That question made all of us stop.

I frowned. "The mission board said to ‘clear’ the fortress. But now that I think about it… the receptionist never mentioned any proof required."

Kael, from behind, exhaled sharply. "No proof? No one’s ever turned this mission in?"

A cold feeling crept up my spine.

Mira frowned. "That’s… weird."

Kael scoffed. "That’s suspicious. Who posts a mission where no one needs to bring anything back?"

I didn’t have an answer. Instead, I tried to reassure myself. "There haven’t been any real dangers so far. Everything we’ve seen—these scattered items—they’re just from the old owners."

Then, I heard it.

A low, drawn-out groan.

I stiffened, straining my ears.

"Did you guys hear—"

Before I could finish, we entered a wide hall. Tired of the darkness, Sylas stepped forward. "I’ll illuminate the path ahead."

"Wait—" I tried to stop her, but it was too late.

She released a fireball, sending it soaring down the hallway. The warm glow lit up the walls for a few seconds before vanishing into the darkness.

Then, hundreds of red eyes blinked to life.

Sylas and Mira collapsed onto the ground in pure terror.

A storm of creatures flew past us, the noise growing into a chaotic flurry of wings and shrieks. I instinctively raised my swords, but Kaldor glanced at me with a brief grin.

"Just bats," he said.

Kael laughed, leaning back with a smug grin as he stretched his arms behind his head. “Seriously, you two just dropped like rag dolls! I almost felt bad—almost.”

Sylas and Mira scrambled to their feet, their faces red with embarrassment.

“I-It was just surprise!” Mira shot back, crossing her arms.

“Yeah! Caught off guard!” Sylas added quickly, avoiding eye contact.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Kael smirked. “Suuuure. Maybe next time, you—”

I stepped in, sighing. “Alright, enough. Let’s stay focused—”

Kael turned to me with a sly grin. “Oh? What’s wrong, Duke? Don’t tell me you’re mad I’m not teasing you too.” His voice carried that familiar taunting edge. “Maybe you just need a little more force to make me laugh.” He tilted his head. “Those scratches aren’t doing much.”

I frowned. “…Scratches?”

“Yeah, you know—the ones on my back.” Kael closed his eyes with a chuckle. “You are the only one behind me, right?”

Something cold settled in my stomach. My muscles tensed.

“…Kael,” I said, my voice quieter.

“Hm?”

I swallowed. “I’m not touching your back.”

Kael’s smile froze.

For a second, neither of us moved. The fire crackled in the silence. There is a voice coming from behind Kael, a disturbing and hair-raising deep voice.

“Stop…Scratching…. My…. Back.”

Then Kael’s eyes snapped open.

A long, bony limb curled over his shoulder.

His breath hitched. Every muscle in his body tensed in raw instinct.

He dropped the makeshift torch as he reached for his dagger. Before the flame even hit the ground, Kael spun, his dagger flashing. The blade slammed into something solid.

A piercing screech split the air as the firelight flickered, revealing a grotesque, emaciated creature with elongated limbs and hollow sockets where its eyes should’ve been. Its gnarled fingers had been reaching for Kael’s neck, inches from his skin.

Kael didn’t hesitate. He wrenched his dagger free and, with one sharp thrust, drove it straight through the monster’s skull. A putrid blue liquid oozed from the wound as the creature let out a gurgling wheeze and collapsed.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Mira let out a shaky breath. “What the hell was that?!”

Kael flicked the slime from his blade, and picked up the torch, his face pale but steady. “It’s an Undead,” he muttered. “They like hiding in the dark. Be careful.”

Sylas swallowed hard. “You mean… there could be more?”

Kael glanced into the shadows, his expression dark. “Wouldn’t be surprised.”

We took a moment to inspect the remains. The body was humanoid but twisted—its limbs unnaturally long, its skin stretched tight over jagged bones. Faint traces of old cloth clung to its body, but it was too decayed to tell if it had once been a person.

Mira frowned, deep in thought. "If this place was abandoned, why are undead still lurking here? Who or what is keeping them active?"

Kael exhaled. "Does it matter? They're here. That’s bad enough."

I crossed my arms, my unease growing. "The groan I heard earlier… it must've been from this thing."

Kaldor knelt beside the body, examining its condition. "Then we were lucky." He looked up, his expression dark. "But something still feels wrong."

I agreed. The air was too heavy. Too unnatural. Something was watching us.

To confirm my suspicions, I turned to Sylas. "Can you fire another fireball? But this time, make it flash. We need to see everything."

Sylas hesitated. "You think there's more?"

I didn’t want to answer. Instead, I just nodded.

Taking a deep breath, she positioned herself in front of the entrance to the large hall. The temperature around us rose as she chanted. We stepped back, bracing ourselves.

She launched the fireball.

It shot into the air, illuminating the chamber. And then—

Boom.

A burst of light flooded the entire hall.

The flash lasted barely two seconds, but it was enough.

My breath hitched. My body locked up.

Hanging from the ceiling, hidden in the pitch-black shadows, were grotesque creatures. Their twisted forms clung to the stone like insects, their hollow eyes gleaming with malice. Rotted flesh clung to their skeletal frames, and dried blood dripped from their open jaws.

One of them licked its lips.

I swallowed hard.

"...Retreat," I ordered, voice barely above a whisper.

Mira, Sylas, and Kael turned to me, confusion in their eyes.

Kael raised a brow. "What do you—"

I grabbed his wrist. "NOW."

Then, the growls started.

A deep, guttural chorus of hunger echoed from above. The creatures are moving

The monstrous figures surged forward, their grotesque forms growing larger in the flickering torchlight. Their hollow eyes gleamed hungrily as they clawed through the darkness.

"Keep moving!" I barked, my voice sharp over the echoes of our pounding footsteps.

Luckily, Sylas had been smart enough to leave behind marks with her ice magic. The glowing frost illuminated the way, making it easier to navigate the crumbling fortress corridors.

Kael sprinted ahead, his torchlight dancing wildly as he gripped his dagger in the other hand, prepared to strike. I felt a bit less worried—the undead weren’t as fast as I’d thought. They were aggressive, but their movements were sluggish and stiff, like marionettes barely held together.

Still, something felt… off.

A presence flared to my right. Instinct kicked in.

I unsheathed my saber with a sharp noise and slashed in a single motion. The undead's neck parted like paper, its head rolling away as its body collapsed.

My brows furrowed, but I kept running. Then someone screamed.

"Mira!"

I turned just in time to see her trip over a broken chair, hitting the ground hard. Kaldor and Sylas didn’t notice she felt as they continued forward. A gnarled, gray face emerged from the shadows, its rotting lips peeling back in a sickly grin.

Without thinking, I lunged. Two quick slashes—one across the torso, another through the neck. The creature crumpled instantly.

“Mira, you okay?” I asked, quickly hoisting her arm over my shoulder.

She nodded shakily, but something was wrong. My grip on the undead’s remains tightened. The flesh beneath my fingers was… soft. Not the usual rigid, dried-up texture I expected. It felt fragile like old cloth barely holding together.

No time to think about it. I hurried forward, catching up with the others.

Up ahead, Sylas ran a little ahead of me—until something lunged at her from the side.

A grotesque undead snapped its maw wide open, aiming straight for her neck.

She froze.

I reached for my blade—but I wouldn’t make it in time.

Then—

Kaldor.

The massive beastkin roared as he leaped into the path of the attack.

The undead’s teeth sank into his forearm. I felt my heart stop. Sylas gasped. Kael swore. Mira let out a horrified scream.

But Kaldor barely flinched. Instead, his other hand slammed into the creature’s skull, sending it flying across the corridor. It hit the wall with a sickening crack and slumped over, unmoving.

The moment hung in the air.

“Kaldor… y-you…” Mira’s voice was weak.

Kael took a step forward. “You—You just got bitten—”

I felt true fear grip me. In every zombie story I knew, that was it. One bite. One infection. And then—

Mira staggered forward, desperate to heal him, but Kaldor just sighed.

“…Relax,” he muttered, dusting off his pants as if nothing had happened.

We all stared.

"What… do you mean, relax?!" Sylas demanded.

Kaldor rolled his shoulders. “I mean,” he said, lifting his forearm, “this is pretty underwhelming.”

We all looked.

There was a bite mark, sure—but it hadn’t even pierced his skin. The undead’s teeth had only sunk into his fur. Not a drop of blood.

“…Are you serious?” Kael muttered in disbelief.

“These things are weak,” Kaldor said, crossing his arms. “They might look scary, but they’ve got no strength behind them.”

Something clicked in my mind. That explained why the undead I’d killed earlier had felt so soft. I hadn’t even needed battle aura to cut through it.

I opened my mouth to say something—but before I could, another undead lunged for Kaldor.

This time, he didn’t even bother dodging.

He just caught it by the head mid-air.

The thing flailed, screeching as it tried to claw at him. Kaldor simply raised an eyebrow. Then, with a smirk, he started swinging it around—spinning it wildly like a ragdoll.

We all gawked.

He chuckled, then tossed the undead to the ground like trash. “So, what do you guys think? Still scared?”

Kael, Sylas and I stared at him, completely dumbfounded.

“…I lost sleep over this?” Kael muttered, rubbing his temples.

Sylas clenched her fists. “I wasted my fireball on these things?!”

Mira just groaned.

I let out a breath and shook my head with a chuckle. “This is a really bad way to stretch, Kaldor.”

Kael smirked. “Guess we should really wake up, then.”

Sylas cracked her knuckles. “Let’s end this.”

We raised our weapons as the undeads swarmed in. Let’s get this done and get some sleep.

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

The fight had dragged on way longer than any of us expected. What we initially thought would be a quick sweep turned into a full-on extermination. Four damn hours of fighting, hacking through those freakish, soft-bodied undead, and clearing every room in that forsaken fortress.

By the time Kaldor kicked open the final set of double doors, sending them flying a few meters ahead, all of us let out a collective sigh of exhaustion as we finally stepped out onto the surface. The sky had begun to lighten, hues of deep orange and soft pink signaling the arrival of dawn.

Sylas groaned first.

"This is ridiculous," she huffed, pinching her robe between two fingers. "We just washed these yesterday!"

Mira, who was flicking dried bits of undead blood off her sleeve, scoffed. "At least yours isn't gray like mine. Purple stains never come out properly."

"Why are we even arguing about this?" I muttered.

Because yeah, we were all covered in that disgusting blue monster blood. I had no idea why these things bled blue, but it was sticky, reeked like spoiled fish, and clung to everything. Even my scarf was ruined.

And then there was Kaldor, walking ahead, unusually silent. Unlike us, he didn’t wear a proper shirt—just some shoulder and chest armor—so his thick fur had taken the worst of the mess. His entire upper body was drenched in blue, making him look like some kind of swamp beast.

Kael took one glance at him, then smirked. "Guess you're gonna have to bathe again, big guy."

Kaldor groaned in frustration. "Do not remind me."

I sighed, rubbing my temples. I was too damn tired for this.

We walked in silence for a bit, with only the occasional complaint about the fortress mission being the worst decision we ever made. Then Sylas suddenly ran up to me, peering at my face before jerking back.

"Uhh… Duke?" She blinked. "What’s with that terrifying look on your face?"

I blinked, snapping out of my thoughts.

I hadn't realized I’d been frowning so hard. My jaw was clenched, my expression dark, and I must’ve looked like I was about to annihilate something. I exhaled sharply, forcing myself to relax.

"It’s nothing," I said. "Just tired." Then, I tugged at my scarf. "This thing’s ruined. You mind washing it for me too?"

Sylas examined it, wrinkling her nose. "It’s filthy—" She paused, then smirked. "—but sure. If you give me enough money to buy that magic book in the library."

I narrowed my eyes. "What kind of book?"

She shrugged. "Does it matter?"

It actually did not matter, maybe tiredness had worn off my sanity. "Fine," I relented. "But the price depends on how well you clean it."

Sylas grinned mischievously. "Or," she said sweetly, "I could just accidentally burn your clothes while I’m at it."

I stiffened. "...You drive a hard bargain."

"Glad you understand," she said, smirking as the others chuckled.

Finally, we reached the guild. The early morning meant it wasn’t too crowded—just a few elves and humans sitting at a table, deep in discussion about their next quest. We walked straight up to the counter, where a different receptionist was stationed today. She was a young woman, brown-haired with a gentle face, and she immediately looked worried when she saw us.

"By the gods, what happened to you?"

"We finished the mission," I said simply, dropping the mission tag onto the counter.

She frowned. "We’ll have to send a team to confirm—"

The second she said that, Kael went completely limp and fainted on the spot.

Mira barely caught him in time, groaning under his weight. "You coward," she grumbled.

Kaldor let out a long, pained sigh and bonked himself on the head with his hammer. Sylas gripped my shoulder, her hands trembling as if she were about to cry.

I sighed, understanding their pain. I mean, after spending four hours down there, the last thing we wanted was to hear that we'd have to wait.

Then, a firm voice came from behind us.

"There’s no need for that. Just take their word for it."

I turned my head and immediately recognized the man speaking. Short, white-yellow hair, gleaming armor, and a pair of light swords on his hips—it was Soren.

Beside him stood Laire, a woman I also remembered—tight shirt, metal gloves reinforced with brass, and an overall thuggish aura. Oh yeah. She was also a man-killer.

Case in point: the group of adventurers at the nearby table, mostly men, instantly turned to stare at her. One of them actually got up and walked toward her.

"Laire, right?" He grinned. "I’ve heard a lot about you. Maybe we can—"

Laire immediately decked the guy in the face, knocking him to the ground.

I blinked. Holy shit.

The rest of his group paled and immediately backed away.

Soren, completely unfazed, walked up to us with an easy smirk. The receptionist bowed slightly. "Ah, Examiners! Good morning."

"Mr. Soren, you know these people?" she asked Soren.

"Yeah," he said, nodding toward me. "They’re skilled enough that I don’t need to double-check. Just hand them the reward."

She hesitated, then sighed and pulled out a pouch of coins. I checked inside—and gasped.

That’s a lot of money.

Soren then pointed at Kael. "Uh… is he okay?"

Mira chuckled, still holding him up. "He just needs some sleep."

Meanwhile, Laire’s eyes flicked toward Kaldor, who had finally stopped bonking his own head. She frowned. "Never seen a bear beastkin before," she muttered, tilting her head. "You’re bigger than I expected."

Kaldor looked at her and shrugged. "You’re smaller than I expected."

Laire narrowed her eyes. "You tryna start something?"

"...No?"

She huffed, crossing her arms.

I chuckled, eventhough Kaldor is just 1 year older than me but his race always made me feel looking at a grown person.

After a bit more casual talk, Soren sighed. "Anyway, Laire and I should get going. Duke, still interested in teaming up with us?"

I decided to thank him first. "Thank you for helping us with out mission but I think we’ll rest for now. And also, we still have our personal tasks to finish."

He nodded in understanding. "Yea, true."

Then, I gestured for him to lean closer. When he did, I whispered something into his ear.

Soren stiffened, then looked at me with wide eyes. "...Seriously?"

"Yup," I said.

Slowly, a grin spread across his face. "You’re the best." Then, he turned and jogged after Laire.

Soren jogged up beside Laire, cleared his throat, and, in the cringiest way possible, said:

"Y'know, your hair reminds me of the deep abyss of a bottomless chasm—dark, endless, and probably filled with unknown horrors… but, like, in a beautiful way."

I froze.

Kael, who had been half-conscious in Mira’s arms, suddenly twitched.

Laire stopped walking. Slowly, she turned to Soren with an unreadable expression.

Sylas looked personally offended. "What the hell did I just hear?"

Mira pinched the bridge of her nose. "That was terrible."

Sylas frowned, looking between me and the door Soren had just run through. "Alright, what did you tell him?"

I kept my lips sealed, shaking my head. No words. I had none.

Because, somehow, against all logic, it worked.

What I whispered to Soren was one of the best tricks my father, Michael Caddel himself, had ever taught me—the ultimate weapon to get all the girls. It was foolproof. It was legendary. And yet, this idiotic, handsome bastard had completely butchered the delivery in the worst way possible.

And somehow, Laire still blushed, called him an idiot, and walked ahead faster, ears burning red.

I felt like reality had just shattered.

Sylas narrowed her eyes at me. "Duke?"

Nope. Not answering.

Kael stirred, still groggy. "What… what happened?"

Kaldor chuckled, dusting off his fur. "I think he’s just in shock."

"You don’t get it," I muttered. "That man failed, and yet he succeeded."

Mira sighed, adjusting Kael’s weight as she started toward the stairs. "Whatever it was, let’s just be glad it’s over. We’re disgusting, exhausted, and we deserve a full day of sleep."

I let out a deep breath, nodding. Finally. After all that, we could rest.

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

The next day, the streets of Sarahart were alive with the usual morning bustle. Merchants called out their wares, trying to out-shout their competitors. The smell of freshly baked bread mixed with the scent of spices, and kids darted between the legs of busy shoppers, laughing and playing. It was a lively scene—one I welcomed after the absolute nightmare we went through last night.

Kael, on the other hand, had absolutely refused to wake up before noon, claiming it was "compensation for last night’s suffering."

Sylas and Mira, meanwhile, had excitedly cracked open the new magic textbook—the one purchased from my allowance, of course. They had holed themselves up in their room, Mira muttering about elemental theories while Sylas gushed over some advanced spell diagrams. I had no doubt they’d stay glued to those pages for hours.

As for Kaldor, he had decided to head to the adventurer’s guild for some training. I figured I might as well do a solo mission while I was there, so I planned to tag along.

Standing at the doorway of the inn, I waved Kaldor off as he strode ahead. "Try not to crush anyone’s spirit too badly while training."

Kaldor smirked over his shoulder. "Try not to destroy the city while I’m gone."

I huffed out a small laugh as I shut the door behind me. Before heading back inside to grab my things, I figured I’d make a small detour. There was a weapon shop nearby I’d been meaning to check out—who knew? Maybe I’d find something interesting.

With that in mind, I turned down the busy street, blending into the morning crowd.

After a few minutes, I have arrived at the shop, with its name etched on a big wooden board on top the door. I opened the wooden door as an old man greets me.

As I browsed the racks, admiring a beautifully crafted short sword, I overheard two men talking nearby.

“…once we get them in, we’ll split the profits. Easy money,” one of them muttered, his voice low and rough.

“And if any of them try to resist?” the second man replied, his tone equally cold.

The first one laughed—a nasty, dark sound that made my stomach twist. “We deal with them, like usual. Slavery’s a game of the strong.”

I froze, glancing over just in time to catch a glimpse of their faces. Slavery? Here? A cold anger began to rise in me. I couldn’t just let this go, not without knowing more. Quietly, I followed them as they left the shop, staying a few paces behind and keeping to the shadows.

They led me through the winding alleys, ducking into hidden corners until they finally stopped near the city’s outskirts. The first man pressed a hand to a section of wall, and to my surprise, a hidden door swung open, revealing a narrow staircase leading underground. Without hesitation, they disappeared into the darkness, the door closing behind them.

Taking a deep breath, I waited a moment, then slipped inside myself, descending carefully. The deeper I went, the thicker the air felt, stale and heavy. Faint torchlight flickered along the stone walls, casting strange shadows that moved and twisted.

I edged closer, barely breathing as I listened to the rough voices echoing from further down the hall. They seemed to be arguing, their voices laced with frustration and dark amusement.

“Those weapons better be ready for the shipment,” one man grunted. “I didn’t crawl through this desert to get nothing but promises, Lark.”

Another voice, likely Lark’s, scoffed. “Quit whining. The weapons will be ready when I say they’re ready, understand?”

Then, another voice—a smooth, insidious one that made my stomach turn—cut through the chatter. It was unmistakably Arthur.

My breath caught, and for a split second, I felt like I was back there, reliving the nightmare of that night. The flames, the smoke, the screams… and Arthur, standing amid the chaos with that same cold, unfeeling tone as he watched my home burn.

Why him? Why here, of all places? My pulse pounded in my ears, and it took everything I had to keep from bolting. I clenched my fists tightly, feeling the anger that had been buried for so long claw its way to the surface. What does he want now? What’s he planning to do to these people?

My mind raced with questions. Did he know I was here? Did he suspect I’d survived and that I was somewhere out there, just waiting for a chance to take him down? Or was this another sick game to him—another village, another plan, another trail of ruined lives?

A dozen horrible possibilities flooded my mind, each one worse than the last. But one thought screamed louder than the rest: I can’t let him get away with this again. Not this time.

“Gentlemen,” he began, his tone a mix of irritation and control, “it’s not the weapons we should be worried about. We’ve already discussed this.”

The men instantly fell silent, their earlier confidence fading under Arthur’s cold authority.

One of them finally broke the silence, his tone unsure. “But, sir… is it true what they’re saying? Do you actually plan to take over the entire continent? I mean… in two weeks?”

Arthur let out a cold, quiet chuckle. “That’s not up for debate. I didn’t bring you here to question my plan; I brought you here to execute it.” His tone hardened, dripping with contempt. “If any of you have doubts, I suggest you leave now and save me the trouble of weeding out the weak.”

The room fell dead silent.

One of the bandits, clearly nervous but too intimidated to keep quiet, finally spoke up. “We’re all in, Arthur. Just… some of us need to know. How exactly are we going to get past the northern defenses?”

Arthur’s tone softened, almost amused. “I have that covered. There are people on the inside ready to… cooperate. All you need to worry about is getting those weapons in place and staying out of sight until I give the word. Understood?”

The men murmured their agreement, but it was clear they were just as afraid as they were loyal.

I shifted slightly, pressing myself even closer to the wall, but a movement to my left caught my eye. One of the boxes nearby teetered dangerously. I held my breath as it wobbled, and my mind raced. Not now…

But fate had other ideas. The box tipped over with a clatter, and suddenly, a dozen rats scrambled out across the floor, squeaking as they scattered. Heart pounding, I ducked lower, hoping the distraction would cover my tracks.

“Damn it!” one of the bandits shouted, kicking the box aside in disgust. “Just rats!”

Another sneered. “Maybe next time we’ll check for rodents before we set up a secret meeting.” The others chuckled uneasily, their nervousness giving way to an attempt at humor. But Arthur, stone-faced as ever, didn’t join them.

“Enough,” he said in a tone that froze the laughter instantly. “You’d better take this seriously. I don’t tolerate carelessness.”

Arthur waited for the men to fall silent before continuing. “This city,” he sneered, “will be our foothold, a base for what’s to come. And after that… the rest of the continent. Two weeks from now, we’ll begin the plan, no excuses, no delays.”

My blood ran cold. Two weeks. He was planning something massive, something twisted, and his voice held the chilling certainty of someone who had all the pieces lined up.

When the men finally dispersed, talking quietly amongst themselves, I took my chance, slipping out of my hiding spot and into the stairwell, my heart racing.