Justin was beyond exhausted, but the dark tunnel leading down to Drakendir had yet to deviate, which meant there was no chance of losing the Baron yet. The mood dark and oppressive. The only light came from the two torches carried by Eldrin and Bohemond, their flickering flames revealing little more than the stone walls of the tunnel and the path ahead, which led deeper into the heart of the mountains.

“They say this wasn’t the main entrance,” Bohemond said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “During the height of the kingdom, the dwarves had moving floors that carried people and goods directly from the city itself to Thalgar’s Tunnel.”

“Moving floors?” Justin asked, curiosity piqued.

He almost let the word “elevators” slip, but he caught himself in time. That was a term from Earth, and Bohemond didn’t know the full extent of Justin’s origins. Neither did Kargan, for that matter. He had to be careful not to reveal too much.

“Of course, they were repurposed centuries ago,” Bohemond continued. “Now they’re just the way stations we passed back in the Tunnel. The magic that powered them died out long ago.” He paused for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “Probably for the best. Nyrritic Magic has no place on Eyrth.”

“Nyrritic Magic?” Justin asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

“Also called Chaos Magic,” Eldrin answered. “It’s immensely powerful, but also incredibly dangerous. Like Death Magic, it’s forbidden by the Church of Light. Has just as much chance to harm the caster as it does to help.”

Justin resisted the urge to look at Kargan. He wondered if there was any connection between it and Blood Magic, because the Orc’s spells fit the description to a tee.

Bohemond turned to Justin, a look of surprise on his face. “You’ve never heard of Nyrritic Magic? It’s the magic of the Dread Goddess, Nyriss. Every faithful adherent of the Church learns about its dangers. Surely, a man of your talents and experience should know, too.”

Justin felt a cold sweat on the back of his neck as Bohemond’s gaze bore into him. “I’ve heard of it,” he said, forcing a small smile. “But it’s not something I’ve ever had to deal with directly. I prefer to avoid such dark powers when I can. Better to leave that knowledge to experts like you, Lord Ashcroft.”

Bohemond studied him for a moment longer, then nodded, satisfied with the answer. “Wise choice, Mr. Talemaker. It’s best to avoid such corrupting influences. Only those truly blessed by Arion’s Light should dare face the forces of Chaos. Vile creatures like Goblins dabble with Chaos Magic, and they can be found in dark places like this.”

Justin exhaled quietly, grateful that Bohemond had let the matter drop. The last thing he needed was the knight digging too deeply into his past—or worse, realizing that Justin was hiding something far more dangerous than a lack of knowledge about forbidden magic.

The tunnel’s monotony abruptly ended as they stepped into a massive underground cavern, and Justin’s breath caught in his throat. Before them stretched an enormous subterranean expanse, illuminated by clusters of glowing blue crystals embedded in the ceiling and walls. It was no mere cavern, but a vast underground space that seemed to extend for miles, the distance lost in blue haze. It was like stepping into another world.

And at the heart of the cavern, sprawling across the cavern floor, lay the ruins of an ancient city. Its towering structures, built from dark stone, loomed in silence. The city of Drakendir, once a bustling metropolis of dwarven civilization, now stood as a testament to a forgotten age. It was hard to tell at a glance just how large it was, but it was far bigger than even Windfall, and was clearly once home to hundreds of thousands of dwarves.

The broken path they were on wound its way around the outer edge of the cavern, alternating between exposed ledges that offered a breathtaking—if dizzying—view of the city below, and narrow tunnels that plunged them back into darkness. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the faint echo of their footsteps on stone.

“Keep moving,” Eldrin urged, his voice low but firm. “We can’t afford to rest yet.”

“We’re not going down there, are we?” Justin asked.

“Arion willing, no,” Eldrin said. “We’ll stay on the periphery and hope for a tunnel that leads to the surface.”

Bohemond frowned. “Where is this Vault, if not down there?”

“Not far,” Eldrin promised. “My information is good.”

Bohemond grit his teeth but said nothing. Eventually, the man would grow suspicious, if he wasn’t already.

Justin nodded, though his legs were screaming for rest. Every muscle in his body ached from the relentless pace, but he knew Eldrin was right. They couldn’t afford to let their guard down until they were certain they had lost him. In this depopulated place, Justin was once again fair game.

They pressed on, following the winding path along the cavern’s edge. The air was cool and damp, carrying with it the faint, musty scent of decay and stagnant water. As they passed through ancient tunnels that led deeper into the Drakendir Cavern, the eerie quiet seemed to press in on them from all sides, amplifying every creak and shuffle of their gear.

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“Lucky those crystals are there,” Lila whispered. “It’d be pitch black otherwise.”

Kargan leaned toward them, his voice coming out in a low rumble. “Ether crystals. Not idly did the Dwarves choose this site to build their city. The crystals were not only their chief export, they carried Ether itself, the essence that powers all Eyrth’s magic.”

“There are so many,” Justin said, passing by a patch of them on the trail.

“No one has harvested them in years,” Kargan said. “One of those bigger could probably be sold for two crowns or more.”

“Why doesn’t Highcliff take advantage?” Justin asked.

“That only speaks to the danger of this place,” Kargan said. “Where a few harvesters might sneak by undetected, an entire mining operation has no such luxury.”

Bohemond shot them a look of warning. Despite their whispers, sounds had a way of carrying in utter silence.

They continued to follow Eldrin along the path. Occasionally, they passed through small periphery towns—clusters of buildings built from the same hewn stone as the metropolis below. These outlying settlements showed signs of recent habitation. Abandoned cookfires, charred and cold, sat in the center of town squares. Gnawed bones, still fresh, were scattered around the edges of the fire pits, though thankfully, they were definitely not human. The stone houses, once home to dwarven families, now stood hollow and vacant, their doors hanging loosely on rusted hinges.

As they moved deeper into the settlement, Justin’s gaze was drawn to a building that stood apart from the rest. It was larger, more imposing, with weathered columns flanking its entrance. The building had the distinct air of a temple, though its purpose had long since faded into obscurity. Above the entrance, carved into the stone, was the graven image of a goddess, naked from the waist up.

She was beautiful, but in a way that made Justin uneasy—a figure with flowing hair and eyes that seemed to follow him as he passed. Yet, there was something undeniably sinister about her. Her features, though exquisite, held a sharpness that hinted at malice, and the faint, cruel curve of her lips suggested a nature far more dangerous than benevolent. Her hands clutched a scepter entwined with serpents, their heads poised to strike.

Justin assumed the goddess was Nyriss, the Dread Goddess of Chaos that Bohemond said goblins revered. The image was a stark reminder Morvath wasn’t the only deity to watch out for, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

Eldrin kneeled near one of the fire pits, his eyes narrowing as he examined the grisly scene of bones. “Trolls. They’ve been here sometime recently. See how the bones are cracked open? They do that to get at the marrow.”

Justin shuddered, glancing around as if expecting a monster to emerge from the shadows at any moment. “How recently?”

“Hard to say. A few days, maybe a week. But trolls are territorial, so they’re probably not far.” Eldrin stood, his expression tense. “We need to move quickly.”

The tension among the group was palpable as they continued, their eyes scanning every dark corner and shadowy alcove for signs of movement. The vastness of the space around made him feel small and vulnerable. He hoped maybe even the Baron wouldn’t follow them into such a dangerous place. It would be against his careful nature. It was the only possible glimmer of hope Justin could find.

After what felt like hours of navigating the twisting paths and deserted settlements, Eldrin finally led them into what appeared to be an abandoned home at the edge of one town. The structure was small and unremarkable, built from the same dark stone as the rest of the city, with a low ceiling and a single narrow entrance. Unlike most others, this one still had the door intact.

After they entered and secured the home, Eldrin barred the door behind them, locking it with a heavy iron latch that groaned as he slid it into place.

“This will have to do,” Eldrin said, his voice barely above a whisper. “We’ve walked through most of the night already. It’s not much, but it’s better than staying out in the open.”

Justin collapsed onto a stone slab near the back of the room, his body aching with fatigue. The others followed suit, finding whatever spots they could to rest. The interior of the home was sparse—bare stone walls and floors, a few pieces of broken furniture, and a cold hearth that hadn’t seen a fire in centuries. The air was damp and musty, carrying the scent of old, forgotten things. Bohemond and Eldrin each placed their torches on opposite sides of the home, providing a minimum of light.

Once done, Bohemond took a seat near the door, his sword resting across his lap. His eyes scanned the room, sharp and alert despite the weariness etched into his features. “We should take turns keeping watch,” he said. “I’ll take the first shift. Arion will keep my eyes ever vigilant.”

Eldrin nodded, settling down near the entrance as well. The strangest thing about the house was that it had no windows. That was a good thing, but it made everything feel claustrophobic. “I’ll keep watch with you, at least for an hour.”

Justin went to Kargan, who had taken a seat near the hearth, his broad shoulders slumped in exhaustion. “Do you think we’ve lost him?” He asked it quietly, so Bohemond wouldn’t overhear.

Kargan shook his head. “Hard to say. It doesn’t sound like the Baron is one to give up easily. But we’ve done all we can for now. We’ll just have to hope it’s enough. We can hardly walk another step.”

Justin nodded, though the unease gnawing at his gut refused to go away.

He laid down and closed his eyes, trying to calm his racing thoughts. Sleep wouldn’t come easily, not in this place, not knowing that the Baron could be just around the corner, hunting them through the labyrinth of tunnels and forgotten towns.

Lila took the slab next to him. Her presence was a slight comfort, at least.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the soft crackle of Bohemond’s armor as he shifted his weight, his eyes never leaving the door.

Justin turned to Lila, his voice barely audible. “Do you think there’s a way out of here?”

Her eyes found his in the dim light. “I hope so. Drakendir’s a maze, but it stands to reason there’s more than one way out. The key is avoiding detection.”

Justin nodded, though he knew it would be tough. The Baron was relentless, a predator that wouldn’t stop until he had what he wanted. More than that, it was personal now.

And here, in the depths of Drakendir, they were little more than prey, not just to the Baron, but anything that could end them.

Sleep, when it finally came, was restless and filled with dark dreams of shadowy figures and endless tunnels. But in the back of his mind, Justin knew that when morning came—if morning even existed in this place—they would have to keep moving, deeper into the heart of the darkness that lay ahead.

At least he had another level up to look forward to upon waking.