Seeker stood atop the massive tree, his arms folded behind his back. A deep frown fell over his face as he stared into the goblin village from a distance. This was… less than ideal. He’d known Bosco was an idiot; why else would the Boss send him to ensure the fool stayed in line?
Bosco had only been allowed to take the newest members and those with the lowest potential on his little expedition. The fools had seen it as a chance to prove themselves. A way to claw their way out of the lowest rungs of the gang.
They never even considered they were just the sacrificial lambs. Scouts sent out to test unknown waters and gather information for their betters.
No, neither he nor Icefinger had really expected much from the man, or his band of misfits.
Who would have ever believed it could turn out like this, however?
A new passage to the Deep Tunnels. A totally untouched biodome. Treasures around every corner, all guarded by nothing more than a small tribe of cave goblins.
It was the kind of the find adventurers dreamed of. The discovery that should have catapulted even the greenest adventurer into the analogs of history. It was the kind of thing you expected to hear in stories and myths, not actually see happen in real life.
Yet, somehow, Bosco had messed it up.
Seeker humphed and shook his head.
Oh well. He’d gathered more than enough information to bring back to Icefinger. As he watched the goblins dig through the wreckage of the longhouse, Seeker lept backward off the tree, and disappeared into the darkness.
Almost a day later, the man stepped out of the opening the adventurers had uncovered and into the light of early sunrise. Seeker stretched and yawned, enjoying the warm glow of the morning sun on his skin. He always enjoyed coming back up from the Deep Tunnels. It was so dark and gloomy down there. Lumoss was fine for lighting your way, but nothing beat real sunlight.
Seeker turned toward Halirosa and calculated how long it would take to return on his own. He absentmindedly wondered if he would have enough time to stop by that quaint little teahouse they’d passed by.
A sudden noise of falling gravel from behind caught his attention, and he quietly turned around. A young man slowly dragged himself over the ledge, wheezing. The young man flopped on his back as soon as he was over the edge and raised a fist to the air. “Take—cough—that, you giant, huff, bastard!”
“Oh? So you actually made it back up? Only took you a few days, too. Not terrible. Thomas, was it, right?” Seeker laughed.
The young man, Thomas, nearly jumped out of his skin as he sat upright and stared at Seeker, his eyes wide.
“Yes! I mean—Sir! Seeker Sir? You’re back already?! Where are the others?!” Thomas’ heart fell as he failed to see anyone else with Seeker. “Did I miss it?! That fat bastard! I’m going to kill him, I swear!”
Thomas ground his teeth and stood, his legs shaking under the effort. It had taken nearly a day and a half to recover enough from the fall to move well. Then, three more to make the climb back up. Sure, he could have rested at the bottom of the mountain, but the Crimson Mountains were a dangerous place. It was better to be on a cliffside where few things could reach him than to end up as an easy meal for something wandering the valley before he recovered.
The young man limped toward the cave entrance, but was stopped by a smiling Seeker, his hand outstretched.
“I like you, boy. You’ve got a fire in you. Don’t worry about Bosco and the other riff-raft. They’re having their own… fun. There’s no need to go sticking your head in there. Never know what might try to bite it off.” He then turned and started walking toward Halirosa. “Come, follow me. We need to report our findings to Icefinger.”
Thomas clenched his teeth so hard he could have sworn he tasted blood. Or maybe that was just his wounds opening back up. “Bullcrap! Do you have any idea how many people I had to bribe or how many favors I had to call in to get on this expedition?! I’ll be damned if I let that lowlife make a fortune while I run back home with my tail between my legs!”
Seeker paused. Then, slowly, he looked over his shoulder and stared at Thomas. “I said come.”
Though the man’s voice was calm and leveled, Thomas froze, his body instinctually trying to make itself look as small as possible. He couldn’t even shiver. His brain told him if he so much as twitched, that would be the end; like a mouse being stared at by a falcon.
The man in front of him wasn’t the same man who’d silently followed behind Bosco and offered advice. That meek-looking, weaselly man who looked more at home in a merchant’s caravan than a gang of rough adventurers.
No. This was a predator in human skin, and Thomas’ instincts screamed at him that if he ignored Seeker, he wouldn’t have to worry about something in the tunnels getting at him.
With unblinking eyes, Thomas slowly nodded, barely managing to squeak out, “Y—yes sir…” before turning away from the tunnel entrance and taking his place behind Seeker.
Seeker smiled, and just like that, the predator was gone, replaced with the weaselly merchant man once more. “Good! Good! Hurry along now. If we make good time, I’ll bring you somewhere nice. And don’t worry about what trifling things the others are getting into down there. I’m sure the Boss will reward us both handsomely. You have my word.”
He then turned away and began walking down the mountain pass, whistling a merry tune.
Thomas took one last look at the tunnel entrance and followed behind.
——————————————
The goblins took roughly 20 minutes to clear away the rubble of what had once been their longhouse.
When they finally pulled Bosco out, everyone, including Alpha, was shocked to find the man still lived.
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For a mortal, having the entirety of your chest caved in would have been more than enough to end them. Yet it seemed the peak [Shackle Breaking] cultivator was made of tougher stuff. Antchaser even suspected the man had taken steps to form a pseudo-core in preparation for his transcendence.
A foolish thing, from what little Antchaser knew of the higher realms. There was a reason that cultivators waited until the [Earthly Transcendent] realm before forming their core. Sure, a pseudo-core might offer some measure of strength beyond the typical, but those that did never reached any proper height of power.
It ate away at your potential and ruined your foundation on a fundamental level. Or at least that’s what all the stories and legends said.
Of course, as soon as they pulled him free of the rubble, Boarslayer pushed her way past the other goblins and stared down at the man. A fire burned in her eyes, like she took some offense at seeing that the man had survived.
Well, ‘survived’ might have been too strong of a word at this point. With the way the man’s spirit energy was flickering like a candle in the wind, he would succumb to his injuries soon, regardless of whether the goblins intervened.
If the way Boarslayer’s grip tightened around the shaft of her massive hammer said anything, Antchaser questioned if the man would live long enough to do so.
The giant goblin took a heavy step forward, lifting [Megaton] in one hand, when a voice cut through the silence, echoing in their helms.
“No.”
Alpha spoke through their equipment’s built-in comms. “We had a deal. Any of them that survive get sent to me. That includes this one.”
“Bullcrap! This one is mine! I’ll not let this bastard get the chance to escape! Not after everything he’s done!” Boarslayer snarled.
She raised [Megaton] over her head and swung with all her strength. If one hit wasn’t enough to kill the adventurer, she’d just have to hit him again. And again. And again, until the job was done. It was a strategy that had yet to fail her.
Yet, as the massive hammer swung down with enough force to crumple armor, Boarslayer froze.
Or rather, her armor did.
Boarslayer roared, struggling against the armor that had suddenly become an unmoving prison. The other goblins hastily backed away from the raging woman. Only Antchaser approached, gently laying a hand on the woman’s wrist.
“Boarslayer. It will be fine. Alpha won’t let him, or any of them, escape. I promise,” Antchaser said, speaking softly.
Still, the woman raged for several more minutes before finally exhausting herself. Alpha released the controls on the armor, and Boarslayer fell to one knee. She stayed there for a moment, panting.
Alpha calmly spoke through the comms, channeling his inner Si’dia. “No need to fear, Ms. Boarslayer. They don’t get the same opportunities as you had. No, I have my own… plans for them.”
An icy chill swept down Antchaser’s spine at those words, but Boarslayer said nothing.
Instead, she stood, stared down at the still form of Bosco, then screamed and flung [Megaton] into one of the nearby empty buildings. The weapon crashed through the hut like a wrecking ball, and Boarslayer stalked off.
Antchaser sighed and shook his head. “It would be best to give her some time alone. Boarslayer has never been one to take being told what to do well,” the man spoke to Alpha through their armor’s comms.
Alpha mentally shrugged, then turned his attention elsewhere.
Antchaser bent down and touched Bosco’s neck. The surface of his armor bubbled, and a thin line of material flowed off, wrapping around the adventurer’s neck before sinking into their skin like a tattoo.
That job done, he turned and stared off after Boarslayer.
She’d likely sulk for a while, then wander off to see if any unpoisoned ale was left. The woman wasn’t as big of a drinker as some of the other hunters, but she knew how to celebrate a successful hunt as well as any of them.
And this? This was a hunt that would go down in legend.
——————————————
Robert clapped his hands and glanced around the room as the gathered adventurers turned their attention to him.
“Hello, everyone; I’m glad you all arrived safely! I hope you have prepared well over the last month! Now, I know for some of you, this will be your first expedition, while for others, it’ll be just one more notch under your belt! The guild and I strongly encourage the former to seek the latter out and inquire about anything you may have missed. I understand that all of you are experienced adventurers with dozens of missions on your record, but scouting expeditions like this tend to be unpredictable. New tunnels are dangerous, and one should always be prepared for the unexpected!”
The gathered adventurers, roughly a dozen, muttered to each other in the cramped guild room. After last month’s debacle, where information of their scouting mission had leaked, through bribes and other… unpleasant means, the guild had rushed to fill spots. The result was a less experienced team than Robert had hoped for.
That said, many of the key people they’d need for this expedition were still present.
The Runic Expert, Magnolia Greenwood. She might have been young, but ‘Maggy’ was one of the foremost experts regarding ancient runic arts and the ruins they were found in. Not only that, but she was an adept mage of various schools, and while she was new to the adventuring scene, she had a near-spotless record for success.
Geralt Riverwalker, Master Infiltrationist, and the best tracker Robert had ever met. The man was said to hunt down creatures that would have given cultivators an entire realm over his own, pause. All by himself. Whether or not there was any truth to these claims, the fact remained that Geralt was an expert in surviving in the most dangerous parts of the Crimson Mountains.
Finally, there was Robert ‘Bert’ Murphy, the ‘other’ Robert commonly seen in the East Halirosa guildhall. He’d taken to calling himself Bert after one too many people had gotten the two of them confused. Compared to Robert, Bert was a large, quiet man of few words. Many assumed he was a bit of a dullard and a brute, but those who knew him well knew the truth. Bert was a master of combat, and he had taught many of the larger adventurers in the guild how to use their size and strength for things other than just barbarically overpowering their opponent.
Coupled with a few other experts in various fields, Robert felt confident they could handle anything this mission threw at them.
The meeting only took a few hours to hack out some of the finer details, but once that was through, the group marched as one toward the city gate.
As they passed through, someone caught Robert’s eye.
“Mr. Milford! Good to see you! Are you returning from a trip?” Robert called out, furrowing his brow and looking around, not seeing the typical caravan accompanying the man. Mr. Milford, a wiry man whose perpetual smile widened at the sight of Robert, opened his arms and called back. “Robert! My boy! It’s good to see you. Yes, though nothing long, just a personal business trip. It got a little rough near the end, but I’m glad to be home.”
Robert turned and addressed the group. “Everyone! I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Milford! President of the Milford Shipping Company! I’ve done several escort missions for the man, and it’s always a pleasant time. He pays well, too, so that’s a bonus! Hahahahha!”
Mr. Milford laughed along and shook his head, “Now, now, my boy, don’t be going telling everyone that. You’ll drive my costs up!”
Robert peered over the merchant’s shoulder to see a ragged-looking young man hanging nearby. “Though I must admit, your companion is new to me. Hello, young man!” he said. The boy looked like the trip had been far harder on him than it had on Mr. Milford, if the dusty clothes and heavy bags under his eyes said anything.
Mr. Milford glanced over his shoulder, then back to Robert. “Ah, yes. My newest apprentice. The boy still needs work, but I’m sure you understand how those things go, yes?”
Robert nodded sagely, before smiling and s, “Of course. Well, it was nice to see you, Mr. Milford. Give my regards to the rest of your team. I have a mission of my own to get to! Farewell!”
“Farewell to you, too, my boy!” Mr. Milford said, grabbing the adventurer’s hand in both his own and shaking it. The two shared a smile as they parted, and the groups went their separate ways.
As Robert turned back toward the road, he slipped a small piece of paper into the gap of his vambrace.