Drexel was a man of average height and build. Draped in black leather and a hooded cloak that wrapped him in shadow, Hump couldn’t make out a single defining feature of the man. He stood silent and unmoving as the five additions to the room got settled around the table, his very presence fading away so that Hump wasn’t sure he’d notice him if he didn’t know he was already there.
Of everyone in the room, the only ones Hump recognised were Marcela’s party member, Len, and Wizard Aldric. It was a very private meeting, especially when Hump considered the importance of opening the gates to the Infernal Halls. Something more had to be going on for his party to be involved. They were still relatively new adventurers, and only he and Celaine were qualified silver rankers. The only reason he could think of was that they’d been selected because either Marcela, Count Daston, or Wizard Aldric had pushed for their involvement.
But why? Hump thought. He didn’t like how unprepared he was for this. There was no doubt in his mind that Drexel, Anara, and Merrick were all powerful, dangerous individuals. And Anara had seen right through his and Celaine’s connection to Owalyn. It made him nervous, but he tried not to let it show, trying to stand straight and relaxed even if he felt far from confident. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bud standing comfortable and attentive. Of course he was. These were allies. Marcela wouldn’t lead them into too much trouble.
“Before we begin, I must ask that an Oath of Secrecy be taken by all those in the room,” Drexel said. “Hettel, if you don’t mind.”
One of the newcomers gave a nod. He was a younger man, perhaps in his early twenties if his aging hadn’t been slowed too drastically by his powers. He reached out into the air over the table, thumb and forefinger poised as if to pinch something. Essence stirred, then out of nowhere he plucked a ball of knotted red thread from nothingness. Placing the ball on the table, Hettel fuelled it with essence. Power rushed through the room, the ball of thread gleaming with light. All at once, the thread expanded to the fifteen people in the room, connecting to their chests. Hump sensed no ill-intent coming from whatever this spell or artifact was, but he sensed its touch upon the core of his being, like a spider dangling from his finger.
“No word of what we speak here must leave this room, but for what is necessary to complete this task,” Hettel said. “To break this oath will sever your thread, and all here shall know of your treachery. I, Hettel Vonburg, swear to uphold the secrecy of this mission and divulge nothing but what is necessary to complete the task at hand.”
Around the room, the others repeated the words without question. With each of them, Hump felt a little more pressure. When it came to Bud, he watched as the knight announced his pledge without concern, Dylan and Emilia following suit.
Hump hesitated. He swallowed as all eyes fell on him. Celaine watched him too, waiting. It seemed she’d decided not to do his without him affirmation first.
“What troubles you, Wizard Humphrey?” Drexel asked.
“I assure you, there is no danger to this,” Hettel said. “This is no death pact. The binding itself is harmless.”
“Forgive my bluntness, but I do not know you,” Hump said. “Harmless or not, I can sense this binding connects directly to my soul. I find it difficult to trust such an oath.”
“You are under no obligation to swear this oath,” Drexel said. “But if you are not ready to commit to this, I must ask you to leave.”
Hump frowned. He glanced at Bud who watched him without judgement.
“Wizard Humphrey,” Aldric said. “You can trust everyone here. I advise you to hear Drexel out.”
Hump let out a sigh. His choice went out the window when the rusty bloody knight went ahead and agreed to this oath in the first place. If High Command gave him a mission, he’d see it through, which meant that Hump either went with him or left him behind. And he hadn’t returned to Alveron and come all this way to Fort Nordric to leave his party now.
Better to have the information and be unable to repeat it than to be left in the dark.
“I, Humphrey Woodrow, swear to uphold the secrecy of this mission and to divulge nothing but what is necessary to complete the task at hand.”
As he uttered the final word, he sensed essence flow through the thread to join the knot. At his side, Celaine repeated the oath.
With all sworn to it, power pulsed through the threads. For a moment, Hump sensed a tug toward the table in the centre of the room, a fragment of each person’s intent added to the knot. The only time Hump had seen something similar was the warlock detection device used in Sheercliff City to identify a person’s essence signature. Somehow, this thread made it a simple matter to distinguish each person, even knowing nothing about them. After a few seconds, the threads faded. Hettel scooped up the ball of knots and it vanished in his hand.
“My thanks,” Drexel said. “I’ll begin by explaining what we know of the Infernal Halls. The most important thing to understand is that this dungeon does not quite belong to our world but is instead a pocket world tethered to our own by its dungeon core. Remove the core and we destroy the tether. Problem solved. There will be no chance for the demons after that.”
The man almost made it sound simple, but looking at the map, Hump could tell this was going to require manpower beyond anything he had witnessed in a dungeon. Thousands of men would be required to lay siege to such a dungeon. Perhaps tens of thousands.
“Now direct your attention here. To the south, we have the main gate.” Drexel planted a finger on the map on the table that depicted the inside of the Infernal Halls, his hand garbed in a black leather glove. He pointed at the southern-most area, right in the middle, where the main gateway was. “This is a large fortification designed with a killbox on the inside. We’ll go into more detail on this later, but the main thing to know is that not even General Korteg and Count Daston working together could brute force their way through. To assault it from the front will result in the deaths of thousands.”
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Drexel drew a half circle with his hand across the outer regions of the map, the area divided up into blocks of different colours. “For now, concern yourself with this area. The twelve blocks represent regions controlled by chieftains under the direct command of the demon lord in command of the entire dungeon. Each of them manages a dungeon node and is tasked with taking resources from our world, as well as harvesting what the dungeon offers. Slaves are used to harvest much of what grows in these regions, brought to life by the residual essence of the dungeon. Other than the chieftains, we do not expect to encounter much resistance in these areas. These resources are required as tribute to the demon lord, who then feeds the dungeon core to expand the dimension.”
The man paused, looking at Bud. “You appear surprised, Sir Robert.”
Bud scratched at his chin. “I didn’t expect the demons to be so organised. To me, they have always seemed like savages.”
“They are savages,” Drexel said. “But they are savages that respect the strong. Those that fail to make tribute might end up as food for the dungeon in its place. It is a dynamic that is poorly studied, but it exists in even the Hell Pit. In this case, these regions pose little threat to us as long as we secure the dungeon road.”
He pointed at a long, winding road that carved a path through most of the map, leading to what appeared to be a large fortress. Drexel tapped it with a finger. “Here, the demon lord’s army resides, while the demon lord himself dwells in the keep at its centre. This is where we believe the dungeon core to be.”
“At the very centre of the dungeon, where it is best defended,” Merrick said pleasantly. “This shall be a dungeon that songs are sung about, I tell you.”
The Marshall appeared excited at the prospect, which Hump could only put down to insanity. There was nothing exciting about this. Defeating dungeons in their own world was one thing, but this… it was reminding him of his time in the Remnant Realm with the gorger.
“It is too early to speak of songs, Marshall,” Drexel said. “The core is our objective, but this will be a siege in many stages. First, we must take the gate. Then we must establish a supply line on the Lord’s Road by building a fortification. There, we will begin to construct the siege equipment required to assault the fortress, and finally break the keep.”
“Which leads me onto the role we ask of you,” Drexel said.
The man unrolled a second map, this one containing Fort Nordric and the Fallen Lands to its north. The Infernal Halls were to the northwest, near the mountains, but Drexel’s finger landed on a section of coast to the east.
“A dungeon node was defeated here on Fistal Beach,” Drexel explained. “Upon investigation, a portal connecting this node to this region in the infernal halls was discovered.” He pointed back to the other map, indicating a blue region to the west of the gate. “It is the ideal infiltration point for a small elite force to enter the dungeon.”
“Why can’t the entire army enter through the nodes instead if they are not so well guarded?” Marcela asked.
“The nodes are not powerful enough,” Marshall Anara explained. “A single gold ranked adventurer may make it through, or a battallion of soldiers. Neither are well-suited for the task at hand.”
“So you want us to be the ones to go instead?” Hump said, frowning. He couldn’t help but feel like his party was being asked to jump straight into a fire, and he knew all too well what certain members would say to such a prospect.
“If you agree to partake in the mission, your party shall join my squad,” Marshall Anara said. “Our role will be to enter the Infernal Halls and disrupt the killbox from within. Once we’re inside, the main challenge will come from an Imp Chieftain in command of the node. The region is laced with illusions and veils.”
“That is why you tested my ability to spot you,” Celaine said.
“Yes,” Drexel said. “At least one of your party must be able to reliably see through the veil. Rest assured, your squad will not be the only one attempting the mission. A second will be led by Marshall Merrick, entering from a different node, while I shall lead a third. We intend to keep their entrypoint private, but only one of you must succeed. Are there any questions?”
“I can’t help but notice just how dangerous this mission is,” Hump said bluntly. “Even if we make it through the Imp Lord’s veils undetected, it will only be a matter of time before we are found. We won’t have a way back if things don’t go to plan.”
“Our return will rest on the success of the mission,” Marshall Anara said.
“I make no lie about this mission being easy,” Drexel said. “But the alternative is the death of many Alveronians, if we succeed at all.”
“You mean to leave us lost in another world?” Len protested. “We’d have nothing!”
“Only if you fail.” Drexel’s voice was cold and detached.
It did anything but inspire confidence, but Len seemed to deflate at Marcela’s side.
“How do you know it’s even possible?” Emilia asked.
“Because I have done it,” Drexel said. “How do you think this information was gathered? I have spent months in the Infernal Halls, studying their ways and preparing for this siege. It is possible. No, it is our best hope of defeating the Infernal Halls. Now, what is your decision?”
There was a pause as all eyes turned to them.
“You should know that my party has already agreed to join,” Marcela said. “I know we have an arrangement, but this goes beyond that. You are free to do as you wish.”
“I will go,” Bud said. He turned to Hump. “Too many lives are on the line for me to sit by and ignore an opportunity like this.”
“I will go too,” Emilia said.
Dylan let out a shaky breath. “And me. I shall be pleased to work with you, Lady Anara.”
She smiled. “And I you, druid.”
Hump glanced at them, then back to Drexel. “Why our party? There must be more experienced and better qualified adventurers out there. Why choose us for this mission?”
“I cannot say,” Drexel said.
“You’re asking us to partake in what is quite possibly a suicide mission,” Hump said. “We’ve sworn an Oath of Secrecy. I’m going to need more than that.”
Drexel did not speak.
“There is a leak in High Command,” Wizard Aldric said.
“Aldric, it is not your place,” Drexel said.
“We need them,” Aldric said. “And this is nothing important. Hump, your party is one of the few that are almost certainly not connected to the warlocks. You have a proven record. There are more powerful and experienced adventurers parties, yes, but few come as well recommended as yours.”
Bud turned his back on the gathering and faced Hump, blocking him off from view. In a quiet voice, he said, “You do not need to do this. It is my duty as a Chosen and soldier of Alveron, but it is not yours. Do not feel obliged to follow me just because we are friends.”
“Apologies, but it is either all of you, or none of your,” Drexel said. “You must be able to act independently.”
“I take it that for such a dangerous mission, there is a suitably enticing prize?” Hump asked. “We are adventurers after all.”
“Is serving your king not enough?” Spittle sprayed from Hettel’s mouth, his face reddening.
“I don’t work for free,” Hump said. “Even for the king.”
“I will need to speak with Prince Greggory,” Drexel said, “but I would suggest a thousand gold coins each, and a choice of an artifact from the Royal Armory.”
Hump turned to Celaine and raised his eyebrows questionably. She gave him a nod.
“You have a deal,” Hump said.
Bud grinned, clapping him on the shoulder with a giant hand.
The meeting continued a while longer, delving into the details of the mission. Hump struggled to pay attention for most of it, his mind lost to a growing fear and anxiety at what he’d just signed up for. Time passed by in a haze of voices and snippets of conversation, until finally Hump was back in the main command room, the meeting over.
Before they parted ways, Wizard Aldric approached. “Hump, would you walk with me?”
Hump stepped away from his party. “What is it?”
“I thought you might like access to a few more spells to help you on your way.”