2

It happened about eight hours deep into the dungeon. Things had been going well so far, aside from some tiredness from all the walking. Mandeln could see why Ätherisch was considered almost a tourist attraction; with all the restrictions, warning signs, and sealed paths everywhere, there was little reason to feel threatened. Apart from a few encounters with Specters and other low-rank undead foes, it has been mostly a safe trip. Since everything had been explored and there were no places to loot at all, no bandits roamed these parts either. Yet, she could barely contain her excitement, secretly hoping that something more fearsome might appear. Despite everything she had said before, she had to constantly remind herself that this was a dungeon, not a museum.

But those efforts often ended in failure.

“Look, Fichte!” Mandeln said, pointing at a corner. “That’s a symbol of the house of Rhode! One of the few surviving pieces of information of the past era.”

“Oh, I see” Fichte commented.

“And there!” Mandeln yipped as she leaned onto a worn-out rope. “That room was used to embalm bodies—wow!”

“W-wow indeed…” Fichte said.

“Hey, Mandeln!” Jujur barked at the overly excited girl. “That rope’s there for a reason! No trespassing!”

As she seemed to forget her own warnings pretty quickly.

Every alley, every corner, carving, ancient writing, and statue was familiar to her, all ingrained in her mind from spending most of her youth buried in books filled with stories about places like this. She knew it all in her mind and heart, but seeing the real thing was an experience that words on a sheet of paper could never match. She was so excited she couldn’t hold it in, her hands trembling nonstop.

Not that Fichte—walking in front of her—could see the charm. To her, everything just looked like a creepy, oversized cemetery. It was especially tough for her since Mandeln kept glancing at her every time she explained something as if expecting a comment in return. So, she just tried her best to show interest.

As that was happening, a strange but now familiar sound echoed through the cold stone walls, just enough to get everyone in motion once more. Without a word, the group got into position and braced for whatever was coming.

From beyond the light, deep in the main corridor, shapes began to form as limbs and other body parts emerged from the wall, falling with a loud thump and slowly assembling themselves—undead.

Counting this time, it was the fourth encounter with Ätherisch's residents, so everyone was accustomed to dealing with them after previous successful attempts. This time, however, the ghostly shapes took a more concrete form as they gathered in an unusual way. Then, the air started to charge, the humming getting increasingly louder and higher in pitch until it reverberated through the entire place. A powerful blast of energy shook skin and bone terrifyingly, making everyone’s blood run cold—especially Fichte’s.

A tall, horrible being stood before them, surrounded by Specters.

“Mandeln! Everyone!” Jujur yelled cautiously. “Stay back, that’s—”

“A BANSHEE!” Mandeln yipped, almost as loud as the monster. “Fichte! Stay near me if you don’t want to die!”

“No need to say it that cheerfully!” Fichte shrieked while grabbing Mandeln’s cloak. “How many Specters are around that thing!?”

The group faced three ghouls, ten Specters, and their new foe, a Banshee. Disruptor of energy, its body wriggled with chaos, as its broken limbs pointed towards the group, commanding the lesser foes—all searching for the order they had lost who knows how long ago.

Jujur delved into his pocket and pulled out two scrolls, while Mandeln quickly grabbed a bunch of leaves from her robes and shoved them inside a hanging thurible, which she lit at amazing speed.

With a healthy blow of air, the leaves burned intensely without making any flames. An incredible amount of smoke poured out from the artifact, covering the entire room almost immediately.

“Nice one!” Jujur said with surprise in his voice. “Using incense for something like this is a bit overkill, though!”

“I-I can’t see…” Fichte said from below. “What is this?”

“The thing we bought at the market, remember?” Mandeln said, still focusing on her vision. “A Banshee’s ‘scream’ can drive you mad really easily. A Bursera incense prevents any ill effects while also getting rid of Specters and nullifying the Banshee’s ability to use magic. Pretty neat, right!?”

“Stop talking and focus forward!” Fichte said in a panicked voice as the smoke seemed to have upset the Banshee tremendously.

“But you asked!” Mandeln said in protest.

Just as Fichte pointed out, the Banshee screamed in anger after losing its followers, and as if commanded by it, the surviving ghouls charged directly toward Mandeln in a mad rush.

“Oh no, you won't!” declared a strong, confident voice—Önemsiz, who was standing tall and mighty in his role as defender.

Mandeln raised her staff to protect herself and the frightened Fichte, just in case. But it only took one swing of Önemsiz's magical axe to deal with the weak undead, who crumbled into disgusting bits of rotten flesh.

He wasn’t bragging about that magic axe—not that I doubted him anyway. Mandeln thought as she burned the ghouls into ash.

The Banshee, now alone, became corporeal once more as the smoke dissipated and its effects faded. Its scream lowered in pitch, and its body began to glow as if preparing for a powerful blow.

“Get away! It’s about to cast something!” Jujur commanded as he unrolled his scroll.

“Wait, is that an Äther Leere scroll!?” Mandeln asked as she was being pulled away by Fichte.

Jujur then murmured something, and the scroll shone brightly. The air around the Banshee turned red, while a fiery sensation scorched everyone’s skin as the Banshee clutched itself in a painful embrace. Slowly, the leader of the Specters turned blurry, until it completely vanished, its scream still echoing everywhere.

The room was dark once more.

“…Of course it is,” Jujur finally replied to Mandel with a grimace. “Those damn things wouldn't go out otherwise.”

“A-are we safe now?” A young man, Schützen, asked. Lowering his greatsword with caution.

“HA! What’s with the weak whimper? Put some strength on your voice, lad!” Önemsiz said with a strong laugh. “I understand it from lil’ missy long ears over there. But you, my boy, better get used to it if ya want to earn a penny in the city.”

“...So that’s a Banshee.” A traveler said, finally coming out from hiding at the center, where everyone not capable of combat had agreed to gather every time they were attacked. “Such a terrifying being.”

“Hey, can’t we rest now?” A noble-looking woman said. “I’m getting tired of all this jumble. I know you all like adventure, hitting each other with sticks and stuff, but me, I need my time to decompress, dear. Verlies won’t go anywhere.”

“Yah! For real!” A plump boy replied. “What’s the deal with all this nonstop walking? I propose a democratic vote, so raise your hand if you want to rest!”

“Enough with that,” Jujur said to the couple raising both of their arms. “We already agreed to rest only once inside this dungeon. You don’t want to spend more than one night here, I assure you.”

As the group kept discussing, Mandeln looked at her surroundings.

I guess this happens when dungeons get fully explored. Her previous comments crossed her mind, a hint of disappointment in her eyes. She had been confused at first, but now she was becoming more and more upset with her traveling companions. The excitement she initially felt faded quickly as she listened to these people complain about every little thing.

Ätherisch was once a feared dungeon, a gateway to great treasures, tempting enough for people to gamble their lives at its labyrinthine passages. But now, it was just an inconvenience for most people, a barrier to getting rich quickly in the wilds beyond its exit.

A place once full of brave warriors and Raiders had now become a tourist attraction. Mandeln, admittedly someone who gets carried away when it comes to dungeons and history, would never dare disrespect a dungeon or the way it should be conquered—small slips aside.

As Mandeln observed the group, she noticed a man trying to sell Banshee merchandise and fake protection talismans to their fellow travelers. Feeling she had had enough, she decided to do something about it, but a hand gently yet firmly landed on her shoulder.

“Don’t let it bother you, dog-missy,” Önemsiz said with an understanding expression. “If you see it a certain way, this is part of dungeon raiding too.”

“...How so?” Mandeln asked, a bit startled as Önemsiz's deep voice briefly shook her.

“Well,” Fichte said next to her as she stretched her tired muscles. “Isn’t the point of dungeon raiding to explore dungeons? I’d say a fully explored dungeon is a job well done.”

“Haha! Well said!” Önemsiz laughed. “Brave warriors conquered this dungeon who knows how long ago and made it safer to travel. And by crossing it regularly, we ensure it doesn’t get taken again.”

“I don’t get it.” Mandeln shook her head.

“It’s easy!” The big warrior continued. “The final step of dungeon raiding is making sure dumb people feel safe where so many others died before—all that while getting filthy rich in the process! Ha! Ha! Ha!”

It was such a ridiculous statement, yet Mandeln felt her lips relaxing. So, maybe this is just a part I didn’t know about dungeon raiding.

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It was right then that the group was attacked.

When Mandeln looked back to the travelers, she noticed the plump noble boy was missing, and just as she started wondering where he had gone, his mangled corpse fell from above. Two big holes in his stomach oozed a sickly green liquid, his eyes gone from whatever got him.

“If Jujur hadn’t picked us as soon as it happened, we’d be dead now,” Mandeln said, staring at the magic flame giving them some light and warmth.

“And he’d be still with us if he wasn’t carrying my backpack.” Fichte lamented as the vision of Jujur getting grabbed by her baggage crossed her mind.

“He… he died doing his job, an amazing Raider through and through,” A deep, but faint voice said.

“Önemsiz…” Mandeln said with a pained expression, gazing at the strong warrior, who now looked so frail.

He survived, yes, but that wouldn’t be true for long. Holy Magic is a sister discipline to healing spells, but intermediate healing doesn’t do much more than stop the bleeding of a blow so strong it almost cut the fierce warrior in half. Only the shock was keeping him alive.

“I-I’m so sorry,” Mandeln said, holding back her tears.

“Shit happens,” Önemsiz said as if he weren’t the victim here. “What matters now is you guys need to keep moving. If what Jujur said at the beginning was true, the resting point shouldn’t be too far from here.”

“...And what about you?” Fichte asked, crossing her arms. “Are you expecting us to leave you behind to become a ghoul’s dinner?”

“Ye damn right, long ears,” Önemsiz said with determination in his eyes.

Taken aback, Fichte was the first to break into a sob.

“...He’s right,” Schützen, the third survivor, said for the first time since the attack. “It’ll be dangerous here soon.”

“I like the sound of that, boy,” Önemsiz said. “You’re a vanguard; it’ll be your job to keep these girls safe.”

A slight silence crossed the room. It felt like there was some understanding between both men that Mandeln couldn’t comprehend at the time.

“Now, if you excuse me,” He continued with a choke, getting comfortable as much as his ripped body allowed. “I’m going to have a little death, and I don’t want peeping eyes interrupting me. So scram!”

In silence, the three survivors gathered whatever equipment they had left. Before leaving, Mandeln asked the others to give them a moment alone. Despite their protests, they finally agreed, if only for a brief time.

Alone, she kneeled one last time in front of Önemsiz. As she regarded him up close, she could see it—his energy growing increasingly chaotic.

She grabbed a bunch of Bursera leaves, swiftly arranged them into a curious crown shape, and left it between his hands.

“What’s this, a parting gift?” He said with a chuckle.

“Well, I am a holy mage, after all,” Mandeln said with a sad smile. “So at least let me do something to ease your passing.”

Önemsiz chuckled, but he allowed the woman to decorate his body with leaves. When she finished, he gripped the arrangement firmly.

“Say, Önemsiz.” She continued in a soft voice, almost like a whisper. “Do you have any regrets?”

“...No, I don’t think I have,” The man said sincerely. “I lived by my law.”

“I guessed so.” Mandeln said even softer, looking at the man’s hands getting white from gripping so hard. “...And what about fear? Are you afraid of death?”

“I’d be a fucking madman if I wasn’t afraid,” Önemsiz spat. “Just like dungeons, one would be a maniac if you fearlessly go into an unknown hole, not knowing what lies beyond.”

“...Do you want to know?” Mandeln asked solemnly, as she intended to start the ritual she had the misfortune to execute so many times in her past. Ironic that she now had a tool in her belt to make his passing even easier.

“Ha! And spoil the biggest dungeon of all? I’m good, dog-missy,” Önemsiz said with a loud chuckle, a brief glimpse of the strength he still had, even at death’s door. “I’m not crazy to be fearless, but I’m mad enough to want to find it out by myself.”

“… Alright,” She sighed, finally getting up. That’s right, he doesn’t seem the kind to delve into rituals.

“You’ll be fine. There’s no way you become a Specter, even in this place.” Mandeln said tenderly.

“Thanks, Mandeln,” Önemsiz said sincerely, finally dropping his charade.

Taken aback, Mandeln could only utter a brief goodbye before running away, leaving the man behind. It was only when she made sure he couldn’t hear her that she bawled her eyes against Fichte’s shoulder.

It never gets easier, no matter how many times it happens.

As far as they knew, they were the only survivors of the attack. Still, there was a slight chance someone had managed to escape. The ambush was so chaotic they couldn’t be sure, yet it’s difficult to be optimistic when only dead bodies greeted them upon their return after losing whatever was chasing them.

“But what was that,” Schützen asked, walking at the front and keeping an eye out for any threats that may appear.

“It felt as if light itself vanished, I couldn’t see a thing,” Fichte said in frustration from behind him.

“It came from the ceiling and dealt physical damage. As far as I know, there’s no way a ghost-type foe could do that.” Mandeln said, deep in thought at the rear.

“An undead, perhaps? ...Eek!” Fichte asked with a squeak as something hit her on the forehead. “Freaking spider…”

“Undead aren’t known for being stealthy, though…” Mandeln replied with a troubled expression. “In the meantime, keep your voice low; that thing is still roaming around. We must hurry.”

“M-Mandeln, something is showing up!” Schützen yelled in a panic.

“What did I just say!?” Mandeln asked in exasperation, positioning herself in the front and raising her staff to her mouth. “Ah, it’s just a Specter… And as the sun rose, the world was whole again. Befehl!”

A pillar of light enveloped the Specter and quickly vanished.

Ironic coming from me, but I’m glad we haven’t had any other Banshees so far. Mandeln thought, lowering her staff. Äther Leere takes a long time to chant.

A noise coming from Fichte grabbed Mandeln’s attention. Following her gaze, she landed in the corner of an adjacent room. There, the corpse of a woman lay alone, her expression frozen in terror. Terrible, but at least this confirms we weren’t the only ones who escaped. She thought as she recognized the woman from the group.

“She was killed by the Specter. Give me a second,” Mandeln said, kneeling beside the body and preparing to chant something. “If we leave her unattended, she might become a Specter too.”

“We must hurry,” Fichte said, feeling shivers all down her spine as she looked at the expression on the woman. “If she was here, chances are there might be more people further down this path.”

And sure enough, about twenty minutes later, screams began echoing off the walls. The trio broke into a run, in hopes they could arrive on time.

“My arm! It got my arm!” A male voice screamed.

“Dad! No!” A high-pitched voice cried.

“Hang in there! We need a tourniquet!” A woman said urgently. “…Who are you!?”

“Let me get closer!” Mandeln said, this time pulling out a tenner rosary.

“I managed to drive it away somehow. What the hell was that thing?” Schützen panted. “Aah! It’s back!”

As soon as they arrived, Mandeln quickly meditated a healing spell to stop the bleeding of the wounded man, while Schützen positioned himself in front of the crew, fending off some sort of leg emerging from a big crack.

“Th-Thank you…” The man said in tears.

“One, two… are you three the only ones here?” Fichte asked.

“No… There’s a similar group that hopefully managed to reach the camp further down this path…” The woman said while trying to calm down the crying child in her arms.

“So, we’re close to the camp!?” Schützen asked with a relieved smile. “Oh, thank goddess!”

“This wound has the same thing oozing from it… Cold!?” Mandeln chirped, pulling her hand away from the liquid. “H-hey, did you manage to see what attacked you?”

“Y-yes!” The man replied. “It was hard, and full of hair. It stung so painfully and cold that… Aaah!!!”

The man’s face contorted with terror as he suddenly looked past everyone.

Turning as fast as she could, Mandeln could finally see it. It was around one meter tall, and its hairy, many legs covered the entire corridor, its electric blue fangs oozing the same familiar liquid that poured from their victims.

And what was worse, she could see the same, over and over, endlessly down the corridor.

“...i-iisheal qawiun! ...hayil!!” She screamed, and the world ignited.

From Mandeln’s staff—or rather—hands, an incredible amount of fire erupted, covering the entire area and burning even Mandeln herself.

“RUN!” She commanded as they broke into a sprint.

And thus, a mad escape began.

“M-Mandeln, your cloak! You’re on fire!” Schützen said, frantically patting her with his free hand.

“Who cares! The fire won’t stop them for long. Just run! Run! Run!” Mandeln yelled while removing her burning clothes and tossing them aside.

Behind them, a terrifying, thunderous sound of dozens, if not hundreds, of steps grew louder, approaching quickly.

They may have run for just a minute or two, but it felt like the longest run they’d ever had. No matter where they turned, no matter how many spells Mandeln threw at them, the sound never ceased.

As she ran, Mandeln felt something brushing against her body now and then, and she responded each time with any fire spell she could muster. Her hands lost all feeling as she emptied all of her magic reserves, desperately trying to keep the beasts far enough.

She ran, she tripped, and every time it happened, a bigger explosion bought her enough time to keep going.

And at last, as they rounded a corner, they saw it—a big, strong-looking iron door. One could only pray it was strong enough to hold.

Mandeln heard someone scream, demanding the door be opened—it might have been her own voice, all things considered—but she was more focused on the terror she felt as she caught glimpses from the corner of her eye of the creatures crawling on the walls, their touch brushing against her body.

By some miracle, the door actually opened, and the group was greeted by a big gathering inside.

Schützen—along with some armed men from the camp—fought off the monsters that managed to crawl in, while Mandeln used the last bit of her magic to raise stone from the floor, sealing the door completely.

Exhausted from mana corruption, she collapsed, emptying the contents of her stomach onto the floor.

“Mandeln!” Fichte cried, kneeling beside her. As she checked on the unresponsive girl, her face turned the palest it had ever been when she felt her legs grow warm and noticed the blood pool beneath them. “…Oh, by the goddess. Mandeln, how in the world!? H-help! Anyone! I need bandages or anyone capable of doing healing magic! Quickly!”

“W-Whoa!” Schützen yelled in terror. “Mandeln, what happened!”

As the threat was dealt with, everyone now realized the terrible state Mandeln was in. Running at the rear, she had taken most of the damage from the pursuing monsters. The sensation she had felt against her body was limbs piercing her skin and muscles, and her hands had lost sensation not from the nerves, but because there was no skin left, as it fell from its burns from casting magic uncontrollably in her efforts to keep the beasts at bay.

“I-I might have shortened my lifespan just a bit,” Mandeln murmured, soaked in cold sweat. “I cast too much magic.”

“Let’s focus on not shortening it to right now—you’re still here,” Fichte said, helping Mandeln sit up and drink from her water pouch as everyone scrambled to help the girl. “Oh, Mandeln, it’ll be over soon. Be strong!”

“It's not over,” Mandeln said in a hoarse voice, grabbing Fichte's shirt with her increasingly trembling hand.

“...What do you mean?” asked a soldier-looking man from the camp as he knelt and began administering first aid to Mandeln.

“T-Those were… Kaltehölle spiderlings,” Mandeln whispered weakly, feeling her consciousness fade.

“The dungeon… Ätherisch has been swarmed.”