For Terra, this had been a brief bit of excitement; and then rigorous, steady focus. The spell she liked to call 'Choking Fumes' was one that required active focus, and to just keep pouring power into it to keep going; as if she were casting a lesser spell, over and over. She didn't have much left in her; if there were any real threats down there, she could toss a few sparks at them that wouldn't be much worse than smacking them in the face with a torch; but she still had that.

And not only had she only scored a single actual take-down, and that man had survived, even, to be taken prisoner; but she refused to look weak in front of her grandfather. So, of course, she went down first; holding up a tiny orb of fire, ready to throw it in case she needed to, or needed light... but the magma sprite was already there, and the bandits had lit the place with torches... and, well.

The last of the bandits was already dead; lying there, clearly having been burned to death in the explosion of that first magma sprite. It was a half-orc, oddly enough; she hadn't seen anyone with a tinge of green on their skin in the kingdom; or even anyone but humans and those with a bit of elf blood; in her entire life. Well. So much for that.

She heard a cough, and something shifting in the tunnel behind her. "That was a damned impressive spell! I would have thought it was third circle, at least! Where did you learn it?"

She glanced back. Ahh. The schoolboy. "I made it myself. That one was a mix of a spell she made to make a nice thick fog, clouding out vision, and one that made an irritating illusion to distract. They work well together."

As they went deeper through the warrens, only the main chambers had enough room to stand; they had to crouch; and even crawl; in a few parts of the tunnels. Good lord, why would humans, or anyone bigger than a halfling, willingly stay here? There were offshoot tunnels; filled with random crates and boxes; one with beds; both simple bedrools and a nice, ornate one, likely from some noble house...

Derek laughed. "Amazing! You learned how to make your own spells! Who taught you? Only the most elite at the academy make their own spells!"

"My mother taught me some basics as I was growing up, and wanted me to take over protecting the village someday. I... wanted more."

A sudden interruption. The eastwatch girl. "Shouldn't I be going first? I'm the one wearing armor, after all. What if there's some trap, or threat still left?"

"The bandits should all be gone... but you're welcome to lead the way. Have at it."

Well. Perhaps some of the things in those crates would be valuable. They'd see after finishing the search.

Which... wouldn't take much longer. There was a single, enormous cave at the bottom; no more of these 3-4 foot tunnels and chambers they could almost bump their heads in; a massive, open space, one that felt oddly humid, with water dripping from the ceiling... and a set of old, rusty cages against one wall, holding two women and a child, all wearing dirty rags... while a bed nearby held... well. What was once a woman. As Terra averted her gaze, and headed towards the cages, she could hear Kylie gasp, and run off to the bed with the woman's corpse chained to it.. and as she assessed the lock, the two women in the cage looked up.

They both looked to be in absolutely terrible shape; bruises, possibly broken bones; wearing the torn remnants of dresses which hadn't been washed in months. There was no hope in their eyes; just a broken miserable expectation that whoever this was was just going to be another tormentor.

"...We've got a healer here, who can help you. And then get you home. Where is home, for you?"

One woman shook her head, and opened her mouth; showing a long-since healed over tongue. The other looked at the floor, and then made a gesture as if writing, before giving her a look. Terra frowned. "I... don't keep anything with me to write..."

Derek abruptly stepped forward... pulling out a black cylinder, and a sheet of parchment; "Miss, I've got these. If you can't speak, but could write the name, or even better, directions to your home village..." ; the woman seemed hesitant, backing away; before reaching out to snatch the two objects, and start furiously writing on the paper... as Derek gave a nod... and turned to examine the lock.

Terra blinked. "Do you have a lockpicking spell? I think one of grandfather's friends had such, but.."

He pulled what looked to be a tiny knife, and... a sewing needle.? Free from his sleeve, and started gently working at the lock. "...Second-years aren't supposed to have access to the sort of thing my research needed at the academy. Some things had both physical, and magical locks. It took time, but, well. If I wanted a dragon-scale, I needed to... ahh." The lock snapped open with an audible click; and from the crunching sound, something had broken inside. The woman was still working on whatever she was writing; but the other in the cell abruptly pushed it open, and started stumble-running for the door; clearly something was wrong with her leg.

Terra could hear Kylie speaking behind her, as she watched Derek simply move on to the other occupied cage, with the boy inside it, and start on the lock.

"Excuse me, ma'am. You can go if you'd like... but while its too late for your friend, I would gladly heal your leg. That looks like it must hurt."

Terra ignored the healer for the moment, and extended a hand to the other trapped woman; who, after a few more marks on the page, turned it to face her.

~My name is Natalia. I am a maid in the service of mayor Kelson of Brendale. If you return me and his son to him, the mayor will undoubtedly reward you. The other woman is a stranger, but has been hurt badly, please treat her well.~

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

Below these lines were a fairly simple map of the area; it looked familiar, compared to the one grandfather had. "... Don't worry. We'll get you home. We're a group of... well. New adventurers, looking for people to help, things to do. This is exactly the sort of job we're out here for."

***

The long-dead goblin warren was surrounded by debris; and a trail of smoke rising into the sky from a 'funeral' pyre lighting up the night, as a strange summoned creature Derek had called forth; something looking like a turtle, almost, except bipedal and about four feet tall; was dragging crates, corpses, and anything other than rocks and dirt it could find out of the warren into the cool evening air.

The smell was awful; and Terra couldn't really bring herself to eat, even as her grandfather was calmly devouring a piece of meat that she sincerely hoped wasn't human, and the other two appeared equally squeamish; sitting beside each other on a log, almost but not quite touching as they looked at the pyre from their own tiny campfire nearby

The former prisoners were laying together on the grass, looking at the stars, with the boy whispering something to the women; he had refused to speak to anyone else; and just seemed to be enjoying the fresh air, undisturbed by the smell of burning corpses.

When the creature made its last trip; and grandfather had finished sorting through the piles; he approached the smaller blaze, and stood towering above the party, looking them over. "So. This is what you have to look forward to. If you want to advance, as an adventurer... you need to kill. Every time you kill something, or destroy some magic item or construct, a bit of the magic in it leaks out... and everyone around gets a bit of it. For someone so much stronger, like myself, it doesn't make any difference. But for people like you? Some of those bandits were similar to you in strength. If we did this regularly, you'd grow stronger, dramatically, quickly. We do one of these a week, and you'll be as strong as a graduate of your Imperial Academy in a month or two."

He grimaced down at the hole. "Back when Terra's grandmother was still around, and demon-blooded goblins infested this region like rats, we did this sort of thing to goblin warrens just like this one; dump poison in them, and murder the lot as they came running out. Not sporting. Doesn't teach you as well as a real fight does. But its a good way for the weak to get strong, and quickly. Helped your grandmother stay live through the hard fighting to follow."

Terra blinked. "Demon-blooded? They weren't just normal goblins?"

He gave a low chuckle. "The whole reason I came here, and met your grandmother, was because of the demon invasion, and the contract. A whole cohort of devils all out helping humans kill demons of all sorts on behalf of the king down here, and of course helped the Empire as well simply by virtue of killing more demons there too. In exchange for the soul of the king and six hundred and sixty six of his subjects, an equal number of devils would come and butcher demons until they were all gone. Should've been a relatively short thing."

She tilted her head. "But... most of the devils left. The king's dead, and there's still demons here."

He shrugged. "The king broke the contract once most of the demons were dead. Didn't want us to take his soul, so he conspired to hide some demons... smuggled them up north. A whole batch of demon-spider eggs delivered to the country that used to exist north of the Empire. Once we found out... the contract was null. We devils could do what we wanted. Some went back to hell. The boss killed the king. Me... I wanted to keep killing demons. And, well. I'd already met her by then. Still. We've been sidetracked."

He swept his arm at the scene. The pile of corpses; the random, mostly almost worthless, loot. The broken victims they'd rescued. "This... is normal. I've encountered at least a dozen almost identical scenes over the years. If you don't have the stomach for it, its time to turn around and go back home; because I will guarantee if you don't, you'll have ended up waist-deep in corpses by the end of the year."

He focused on Kylie. "So. What'll it be?"

The priestess looked down at the flail. Bits of bone, blood, and hair were still sticking to the cold metal. She looked up, with a strange fire in her eyes that Terra didn't recognize. "...I'm in it as long as you are. The full year. Longer, if you'll stay longer. This.... punishing evil where it lies... it feels like what I was meant to do. My calling. I... do we know where more bandits are?"

***

"Seventeen knives and daggers, five spears, four sets of leather armor, one iron breastplate, eight crates full of various random sets of clothing, a mass of silver cutlery, some fairly nice, high-end furniture, and a few dozen gold worth of various currencies. They had plenty of swords and bows that were quite simple garbage, and a single clockwork Imperial crossbow that appears to have been struck by a club while it was firing and is damaged, but fixable... if any of you know how to do that."

Derek studied the device for a moment, then looked up at Praxius. "Well, sir... I've seen t hem working, but never used one. I may be able to figure it out, eventually. But... doesn't them having this here mean they killed an Imperial Guardsman at some point. Wouldn't we get a reward for handing it over?"

Praxius shrugged. "Perhaps. On the other hand, they are excellent weapons. Not magical, but the ability to rapidly put bolts into a victim is unquestionably useful, even if its shorter ranged than a longbow. We may encounter enemies resistant to magic, or even dead magic areas. I'll get along well enough... but all three of you rely heavily on magic at any significant distance."

"...I'll take a look at it with my tools while we're on the road. What do we do with the prisoner?"

Praxius looked at the bound raider. A relatively ordinary-looking man, if a bit dirty and unkempt. He looked up at Praxius, made a smile that better resembled a grimace of pain. "I'll do anything you want. I can help you hunt other bandits. I'll serve at your feet.. on my knees...chain... daddy?" He gave an odd grin. The devil blinked, and focused on him. The others could see the subtle shifts; his face seeming to become a horrific rictus, a savage beast... and the chained prisoner screamed and shifted around in his restraints as if trying to get further away.

"He might be useful. Still..." Praxius reached down; and the man's limbs were suddenly freed, as the chain returned to its master... only for a smaller length to snap free. He dropped down, wrapping it around the man's throat. "Chain of Binding. I command you to grow tighter every time he speaks a word. Should I or one of my companions pass, tighten until he dies."

He rose to his feet. "I don't care what your name is, or what you've done. Our agreement is simple. In exchange for not killing you, you will provide us with a map of any bandits you know or suspect operate in the area. I know where that chain is at all times, and if you try to remove it, it will kill you. If I go to one such spot on the map, and find nothing of interest, I will have the chain kill you. If you make this agreement, and do not appropriately provide the requested service, I claim the right to take ownership of your soul. Do you understand?"

The man opened his mouth... but stopped, and nodded.

"Good." He glanced to the others. "We'll pack everything worthwhile on the cart, and head out at dawn. Try to get some sleep, if you can. I'll take the first watch."