Wichter
Wichter dragged his band across the cursed terrain, against all their wishes. At least they had received enough rest throughout the journey, considering they had to stoop every so often to hide from the horde of dark creatures. It made the way longer than it should have been, but he had no other choice.
After a couple of hours of trudging along, they finally reached the vicinity from where Lashin had disappeared. Wichter alerted his group to be more cautious as they approached, though the silence reigning over the terrain led him to believe the creatures had vanished since the time he had seen through Lashin’s eyes.
It was a rational thought, considering the cursed creatures merely wanted to feed on something. If they couldn't find it here, they would hurry to where they could.
His expression darkened when he realised that wasn’t the case. He found the horde encompassing every inch of the terrain. Dark creatures, lizards, giant insectoids, and chilopods littered the floor of the dungeon. Yet, strangely, all of them were silent, as though bound by some spell. None uttered a single squeal, remaining frozen in their spots, which caused him to grow even more wary.
The portal was gone, nor were there any signs of the spiderlings or the white snake, for that matter. Using hand signals, Wichter gestured to his underlings to keep quiet and move cautiously. They stayed far from the horde, remaining hidden in the darkness to observe.
To be thorough, he even utilised his skill, [Cloak of Darkness], to envelop them all, hiding their presence. The skill could mask their aura, sound—practically everything—making it the perfect ability for stealth. If only he wasn't stupid enough to divide the group after entering this cursed place, thinking it was merely a low-level dungeon.
“What do we do now?” Dock asked through hand gestures, his expression grim.
Wichter spared him a glance. “We wait.”
“Are you sure it’s a good idea to wait here?” Dock asked again. “I don’t know, boss. The silence is unnerving. It’s getting on my nerves.”
The scarred leader didn’t reply, as he couldn’t deny the claim. The silence gnawed at him. His eyes searched through the horde of monsters, looking for something—anything—that might explain the silence. Perhaps something was channelling these monsters, something powerful enough to control them and force them into stillness.
Near where the portal gate had been, he spotted a large humanoid figure standing. They were draped in a tattered cloak, their head hidden beneath a hood, while they worked on something—readjusting the runes on the gate, trying to reopen the portal once again?
If the figure felt nervous, encircled by hundreds of cursed creatures, they didn’t show it. They worked nonchalantly, sparks of red light flashing around them.
“Who is that?” Jebson asked, his eyes following Wichter’s gaze to the eerie figure.
Wichter kept his silence. The hooded man might be the one controlling the horde. Then again, he had no reason to believe the figure was human. Many things wore human skin, yet they couldn’t be further apart from being human. This could be one of them.
He considered leaving. This didn’t look good. It seemed far above his pay grade. The essence gems he had received for sabotaging the imperials’ mission weren’t enough to risk his and his band’s lives in this madness. But then, his heart clenched as he remembered his bonded companion.
It had been fifteen years since they had been together since the bird was nothing but an egg. Wichter had cared for Lashin, raised him, and helped him grow into what he was now. And in return, the golden-tailed eagle provided invaluable help during their mission. But their relationship went far beyond simple exchange of favours.
With him gone, Wichter felt a peace of his being was missing.
“Boss,” Dock said hesitantly, nudging his shoulder, “something’s happening.”
Wichter didn’t have to wait long. He saw the cloaked figure smash its arm against the indestructible metal of the gate. The first two blows barely left a mark. Then its arm turned jagged, like a massive hammer pulsating with dark, terrible power. It smashed into the ancient gate, causing sparks to ignite.
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One blow wasn’t enough—perhaps not even a hundred—but the figure persisted. Eventually, after a dozen or so blows, the infrastructure of the waygate crumbled into boulder-sized pieces, the runes engraved upon it shattering.
Then the silence broke. The cloaked figure let out a shriek, echoed by hundreds of its followers. The monsters leapt to their feet and surged across the dungeon plain once again.
They poured in the direction they had come from, like a flood breaking through a dam, with the lone figure walking behind them like a shepherd guiding their sheep.
Wichter’s heart leapt out of his chest when the figure paused and turned its head towards them. It shouldn’t have been able to see them in the darkness, not after the camouflage he had spread over them.
Yet, when he looked into its smouldering red eyes, a primal fear clawed at his chest, pounding his heart.
“We have guests, it appears,” a voice rang in his mind, freezing him in place. “Tell me, outsiders, what is your intention in coming here?”
Wichter remained frozen, wordless.
“I do not like to repeat myself,” the voice resounded again, cold and authoritative as the first time.
“I… Wichter of the Shadowclaw Clan…” he stammered. Unable to find the right words, he uttered the name of the clan from which he had been banished, hoping to impose some semblance of strength. “We entered this dungeon without knowing. We are on a mission, given to us by the Bloodsworn... We’d have left long ago if we had known."
"Leave? There is no place to leave."
Wicher didn't know how, but some courage wound its way into him, as he began again, "You see, my bonded companion—something happened to him. Perhaps he entered through a portal. Please, can you tell me anything about it?”
The mysterious figure tilted its head. “Perhaps,” it said, its voice as cool as the wind. “Perhaps not. Bloodsworn, you said. Now that is a name I am surprised to hear, after all these years. Perhaps you would like to follow me and tell me all about your mission—and your bird.”
It said bird, Wichter thought. So it does know what happened to Lashin?
A slit of a smile appeared on the shadowy face of the cloaked figure before it disappeared into the shadows, leaving an invitation in the air. “Maybe we can help each other.”
Even after the figure was nowhere to be seen, he remained frozen, the words ringing in his ears.
“Boss. Boss!” Dock nudged his shoulder, snapping him from his stupor. “What was that?”
“I don’t know,” Wichter replied, wiping the sweat from his face. “I don’t know.”
Yet the voice still lingered in his mind. The Fear. Strength. And promise.
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A couple of hours of rest was enough to pull us back into fighting form. So we wasted no more time after that and charged down, intent on clearing out the filth that had entered the gate with us.
I felt a bit guilty about leaving the duty of transportation to Marvel. In the last couple of hours, her limbs had not just magically grown back, but that hardly impeded her unpaid internship as my mount.
“What are you gloating about?” she asked. She shouldn’t have been able to read my emotions through the mask, so I wondered what had given me away.
“Just energised for a fight,” I said. “Since I cannot advance just yet, I might as well try to complete my quest.”
There were still so many creatures to kill. The quest wasn’t even halfway complete.
"Perhaps we can travel to the other side where the rest will be after dealing with the creatures. Serenity should be going there as well if she hadn't reached there already. Don't worry about your reward."
She seemed to hold a lot of faith in the elder spider, but then again, the spider mama was powerful.
Marvel descended swiftly, though she faltered to check on the torn spider webs. They littered the path all the way to the end of the pit, as though a huge wrecking ball had torn through them. To our bewilderment, we found none of those filthy creatures feasting in the pit.
Yes, there were signs of them—filthy blood, torn bitten flesh, or appendages—but that was all. None of the creatures remained in the pit. Their trail indicated they had chosen the path to the left and hurried through there.
“Isn’t it odd that all of them chose one direction?” I asked.
Marvel expressed a wave of agreement.
“What is it in that direction?”
The spiderling didn’t answer. “Let’s go find out."
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Wichter
It took Wichter a moment to realise that the others in his group had also heard the voice, though only he had answered it.
“You can’t be thinking of going after it,” said Paxon, one of the more cowardly members of the bunch. “This is pure madness.”
Wichter couldn’t help but agree, but he steeled himself, pulling down the skill that had been hiding them.
“We have a decision to make,” he said. “You heard the figure. I don’t know its plan—hell, I don’t even know what it is. But I know one thing: if it wanted to kill us, none of us would stand a chance.”
Besides, following the cloaked figure might not be the worst decision of his life. He had followed far worse individuals, simply because he didn't have the power to deny them.
“What are you insinuating?” Jebson asked, biting his lower lip. “Boss, you can’t force us—”
“I’m not forcing you,” Wichter cut in. “I won’t force anyone to follow, but with Lashin missing, I... at least have to try.” He sucked in a frigid breath. “If you don’t want to join me, that’s fine. We can disband the band here.”
“You can’t be serious,” Dock interjected. “It’s been six years we’ve been together, and this is how you want to end it?”
“It is not my intention to end it here. I’m merely giving you all a choice.” Because I’m completely blind in this dungeon, he admitted inwardly. “So, what will you choose? End things here, or follow me on this?”
He eyed the remaining members of the band and waited for their answer.