The teleporter gleams as our party materializes in the courtyard of Krab Fortress. Surrounding them are high stone walls, weathered by years of desert storms. At the center of the courtyard stands the teleporter—a white marble platform with the same geometric design as the one in the capital. Soldiers patrol the area, their armor gleaming under the unrelenting sun.

The captain of the guard approaches, offering a respectful salute to Prince Vincent.

"Your Highness, we've been expecting you," he says, his tone formal but warm. "The noble in charge has been informed of your arrival. In the meantime, here are your identifications."

He hands small, rune-etched tokens to each member of our party. When he realizes that he is missing three, he turns to the prince, confused:

"Your Highness, we were told there would be seven of you."

"Those three don't need authorization, they're skeletons."

The captain stands still for a few moments, as if processing the information. For a moment, I tense up. I hope they won't be a problem.

"Can they lower their hoods?"

"Ronan," Vincent prompts.

"Uncover yourselves," Ronan orders.

Immediately, the three undead reveal their cadaverous faces.

"Everything is in order, Your Highness. As for the identifications, you'll need them to trade any goods obtained from the dungeon. Without them, merchants won't deal with you, and you'd risk being reported as smugglers."

As I look puzzled upon hearing this, Mary approaches me and whispers:

"Apparently, the dungeon is located in the heart of the desert, so there are no actual walls surrounding it, and anyone can enter. This is a way to ensure, in addition to the patrols, that unauthorized mercenaries don't come to loot it."

I nod and thank her.

Nearby, some horses and a sturdy cart are waiting for us. The captain gestures toward them.

"These will be at your disposal for the journey."

The prince approaches to inspect them and, moments later, a nobleman strides into the courtyard, bowing deeply to Vincent.

It's curious, the prince has much more status and I've never seen him dressed in such ostentatious clothing as this noble. I guess in every world, there are those who want to appear more than they really are.

"Your Highness," he begins, "welcome to Krab Fortress. It is an honor to host you. I've prepared a meal in your honor—"

"Thank you," Vincent interrupts, his tone polite but firm. "However, we must decline. Time is of the essence. We need to return to the academy by dinner."

The noble's expression briefly falters before he composes himself.

"As you wish," he says, calling two guides. "They will escort you to the dungeon and watch over your mounts while you're inside."

After a quick summary of the creatures we might encounter and some brief goodbyes, Vincent, Alistair, and Theodore mount their horses, while the rest of us climb onto the cart and we set off. The landscape quickly shifts to barren flats, dotted with sparse, scraggly trees. The sun beats down mercilessly, and I am grateful for the hooded cloaks we all wear.

The journey to the dungeon takes over an hour, eventually leading us into a landscape of sand dunes. The path ends at a camp—a modest collection of tents, a small inn, and a handful of soldiers stationed as lookouts. The guides pause briefly to speak with the soldiers stationed there, exchanging brief updates. When one of the guides returns, he addresses our group.

"The last cleanup of the area was three days ago, so there won't be much hunting. However, this will be good experience for when you return next time."

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Our party continues our journey without dismounting, guiding the horses and cart across the shifting sands of the desert. The cart, with its robust and thick wheels, holds up well, but the uneven terrain forces them to maintain a slower pace.

It isn't long before one of the guides raises a hand, signaling for silence.

"Lizard sighted. Two of them," he whispers.

My attention snaps forward. Two massive lizards—each over three meters long—are barreling toward us. Their low bodies move with surprising speed, their scales glinting like polished obsidian.

Darius grins. "Finally, some action."

Mary chuckles softly and Theodore looks at him with disapproval.

The guide adds a warning. "Be cautious. Their bites are venomous, and their tails can strike like a whip."

"Noted," Darius says, leaping from the cart and unsheathing his sword. Vincent dismounts as well, drawing his weapon. "A good warm-up," he remarks. Alistair and Theodore join him, positioning themselves defensively near the prince.

Darius raises a hand to the others. "The four of us can handle this. No need for backup."

I didn't think of the redhead as someone so selfish. This is going to make it more difficult for me to beat him, I think to myself. Anyway, I take it back: I don't believe he's doing it with bad intentions; rather, he just wants a fair fight against the creatures.

Ronan remains seated, observing the creatures intently.

"Watch their tails," he advises. His voice is calm, almost detached.

Alistair and Theodore ignore him, focusing instead on the charging lizards. Both Darius and Vincent ready their shields as the creatures lunge.

The first lizard slams into Vincent, its jaws snapping against his shield as he braces himself, falling back slightly under its weight. The second lunges at Darius, who sidesteps and slides to the ground, narrowly avoiding its fangs. As the creature twists to strike with its tail, Darius intercepts it with his shield, then counters with a swift strike, severing the tail entirely. The lizard screeches, writhing in pain before turning to face him again.

Nearby, Alistair brings his heavy mace down on the lizard attacking Vincent, landing a solid blow to its head. The creature collapses to the side, momentarily stunned but still gripping Vincent's shield in its jaws. Theodore rushes to help Vincent to his feet while Alistair strikes again, his mace smashing into the lizard's flank. The beast roars, twisting to retaliate.

Darius, meanwhile, presses his advantage. As his lizard lunges, he lifts his shield with a burst of strength, forcing the creature upward. With a powerful thrust, he drives his blade into its underbelly. The lizard thrashes, but Darius is relentless, slashing along its side until it crumples to the ground. He circles around and delivers a final, precise cut to its neck, ending its life.

The second lizard, though wounded, isn't finished. It strikes Theodore with its tail, sending him sprawling.

Someone explain to me why a mage would want to get into melee. Oh... wait, I usually do the same.

Mary and I rush from the cart to assist him, while Vincent drives his sword into the creature's side. Alistair blocks the lizard's snapping jaws with his mace, giving Vincent an opening to strike again. Darius joins the fray, severing the creature's tail before delivering the finishing blow alongside the prince.

The guides remain mounted, glancing briefly at Theodore, who is being helped to his feet by Mary. Though bruised and clearly in pain, Theodore manages a weak smile as he addresses us, his voice strained but polite. "I apologize for the inconvenience, but I believe my arm may be broken."

"You should let me heal you," Mary offers, already preparing her magic.

Theodore nods gratefully, his voice soft. "I would greatly appreciate that, Mary. Thank you for your kindness."

Ronan watches the exchange with a small smile, and I can't help but wonder about his connection to Mary. Despite their seemingly limited interactions, her genuine warmth and caring nature seem to have made a lasting impact on him, cementing her place as one of the few people he truly cherishes. I make a mental note to ask him later if he trusts Mary, curious about the depth of their relationship.

The guides observe the scene quietly, their expressions neutral. Mary focuses her energy, casting the healing spell with practiced ease. A soft glow envelops Theodore's arm, mending the fracture and easing his pain. "There," she says gently, "how does that feel?"

Theodore flexes his arm tentatively, then smiles broadly. "Much better. You have my sincerest gratitude, Mary."

Darius cleans his blade on a cloth, then claps Theodore on the shoulder. "Glad to see you're alright, my friend. Mary's healing is truly a gift. Try not to underestimate the enemies next time."

The one addressed nods solemnly, and Mary ducks her head modestly.

"I'm just happy I could help. We should keep moving, though. The dungeon awaits."

Vincent thanks Mary and also urges our group to press on. As we resume our journey, the desert seems to stretch endlessly, the sun casting long shadows across the dunes. I spot coyotes and swift, long-legged birds darting through the sands, but none approach. However, we don't see any giant scorpions. The soldiers must have done their job of cleaning the area too well.

Finally, the ruins come into view. Massive stone columns, some still standing, mark the remnants of an ancient civilization. At the center of the ruins looms a colossal pyramid, its weathered surface carved with strange, unreadable symbols. The entrance—a dark, gaping maw—dominates what had once been the city's plaza. The stones are the color of sunbaked clay, eroded yet retaining the majestic angularity of their original design. Some walls are etched with faded murals depicting rituals under a blazing sun, while fragments of statues hint at long-forgotten deities.

The guides halt. "This is as far as we go. From here, it's all on you."

The party remains mounted, their gazes fixed on the pyramid. Vincent dismounts and steps forward, his expression resolute.

"Let's move."