I pulled out my own oracle and immediately went through the forums myself.

Yup. She was right. There was even an official post from the Advernturer’s Guild stating that no individual below silver rank would be allowed entrance.

I groaned.

“Gods damn it.”

Niff chirped in agreement.

I went through the forums and read everything I could find about the situation. The beast-kin sat down and munched on something beside me.

The dungeon seemed to have developed a strange and unknown magic. It would block out almost every form of communication and while copper and bronze rank adventurers went missing, silvers and above seemed to be unaffected.

Whatever monster or criminal that lived within the dungeon seemed to be avoiding the more powerful adventurers.

But something else nagged me about this. There were no escapees. Every single bronze or copper rank adventurer who made it out of the dungeon wasn’t attacked by some strange or unknown force.

That meant that every single attempt this threat had made on a copper or bronze-rank adventurer had succeeded. Every single one.

Even the best monsters or the most capable criminals would have slip-ups. No one had a one hundred percent kill rate. And adventurers varied in ability. Some were fast and stealthy while others were bulky and capable of protecting themselves.

Yet this thing seemed to be able to catch every one of them.

How?

Well, there were three things it could be.

One was that it was far more powerful than a bronze rank, it was possibly a silver rank if not gold rank threat. And it might only be choosing to attack bronze ranks for the certainty of the kill or to avoid attention from higher rank adventurers.

Two was that it had some sort of assessment ability. The threat was somehow able to assess every single adventurer to the exact limits of their ability. No. That was impossible. Even with divination, it would have to be a tier fifteen, maybe even twenty for it to be as certain as it was.

Thirty-two copper and bronze adventurers had gone missing. To cast a divination spell on that level thirty-two times, and for the silver and gold rank adventurers in the dungeon to not notice it? No. It couldn’t be divination. Maybe it used a divination artifact but it couldn’t be a spell. If it was capable of divination spells to that degree, it would be powerful enough to attack gold ranks and higher.

Now the third possibility.

“Hmmm, I wonder if I could test that,” I mumbled to myself.

“Test what?” The mouse-kin asked me.

I didn’t reply and just kept strolling through my forums.

“Interesting.”

“What?” The mouse-kin chirped again.

“Well, they seem to be letting groups of bronze-rank adventurers through as long as their combat abilities are equal to that of two silver ranks.”

“Really?” She asked me.

“Yeah, but who knows how they determine that.”

I waited for her to ask the question. She was there at the train station, she knew what I was. And I didn’t want to ask her and put her in a tough spot.

Just because she was being nice to me, didn’t mean she liked me.

“Do you wanna team up and try to enter the dungeon together? Maybe we can find some other people and meet the qualifications to enter?”

“Sure, I would-”

“Hey! Rat! I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Didn’t you hear what that half-angel called him earlier? He’s a demon, or a half-demon, no difference either way. You shouldn’t team up with someone like that!”

The voice was smooth and mature, and both me and Niff turned to the dryad that had said it. She seemed to be the leader of the group and started at Niff condescendingly.

“Half-demons are evil, just like their parentage. Don’t you know that or are you simply that uneducated?”

Niff’s fur rose and her tails seemed even bushier than before.

“I’m not a rat,” she stated calmly.

The dryad eyed her and sighed.

“I’m sorry. I’m not familiar with your species, but what I said holds true. You shouldn’t trust a half-demon, no matter how well-behaved they look.”

“I’m a mouse-kin or a squirrel-kin, or a rodent-folk, or critter-folk. Not. A. Rat.”

“Look I don’t care what you are, all I’m saying is that-”

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“If you don’t care what I am, then don’t talk to me.”

The dryad glared at Niff, then turned to me and cast. It was a detection spell, something like detect demonic magic or something. I could feel at least five other people in the cabin cast it as well, two more from the dryads and three from the group on the other side of them.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to work with-”

“No! I asked and you accepted! I may be small but I’m capable of looking after myself. I don’t need someone to look out for me.”

The dryad ran her hand through her green leafy dreads and sighed.

“Listen, Miss Mouse-kin. We’re just trying to look out for you. Half-demons have a tendency to-”

Niff folded her ears back and closed her eyes. I could feel another wave of detection spells running through us. It was rude and probably illegal, but I let them continue with it. Any move to rebel or tell them off would probably instigate one of them to attack me. And then when I fought back, they would all see that as aggression and attack me in unison.

This was nothing new. It happened in most villages, towns, and cities I had visited. Even back in the Woven Forest, people always hated half-demons.

“You there!” The dryad said turning and pointing at me. “I don’t know what you’ve done to this person, but I will not tolerate your-”

“He did nothing, ya green wench! Now sit back down and grow an apple!” A voice spoke.

It was a dwarf’s voice. I knew it was a dwarf’s voice because they all had that strange little accent. I turned and saw a small dwarf sitting behind us, chugging on a jar of poison.

Well, it was alcohol of some sort. But if a dwarf was drinking it, it might as well be poison.

The dwarf was wearing light armor and had an axe that was at least as tall as his body by his side.

“What?” The dryad asked with an affronted scowl. “Who are you?”

The dwarf just scowled and shook his head.

“Listen, all I’m saying is half-demons can’t be trusted. I don’t know how this one was allowed in the city but clearly he’s-”

“Shut up. For the love of mirth and metal, leave them alone. The mouse has made her choice and the demon clearly has a right to be here. You saw the troll looking through his licenses at the station.”

“But-”

“But nothing. Either shut up or grow some sense.”

“But he’s a demon! What if he’s charmed the girl or he-”

“He hasn’t!”

“And how do you know that?”

“I’m a paladin. I’d know if there was demonic magic in my presence, lass.”

Niff stood up in her chair and glared alongside the dwarf. This was strange. I wasn’t used to people sticking up for me, much less a paladin.

The dryad seemed to struggle for a moment, searching for a way to get around it.

“But… but… he’s a-”

“I’ve been investigated by the Celestial Order Patrol and determined to not be a threat. I’ve been questioned underneath tier fifteen truth spells and have lived within the city for ten years without causing a single problem. Even if you don’t believe me, you should believe them, no?”

The dryad stared hard at me for a moment, then sat down with her head turned away from our direction.

I sighed and leaned back into my seat.

Now I remembered. This was why I didn’t socialize.

“Oi lad, what’s your name?” the dwarf asked me.

He was a burly man, as most dwarf men were. They’d rather you see them naked than shaved most of the time. But this one had a very well-groomed beard. It was thick and lustrous and seemed to shine, even in the dim train cabin.

“Elurn,” I replied.

“Ah the one from deep-side? The one who lived in the cave and all that?”

“...Yes.”

“My cousin Grundler mentioned ya, lad. Said he lost his most loyal customer the other day. Guilted me into three barrels of bears and half a keg of wine, the damn bastard. I thought ya had died or something.”

“No,” I said with a shake of my head. “I just left deep-side.”

“That rat!” The dwarf said with a stomp. “Were ya at least friends, lad?”

“Acquaintances,” I replied.

“OOOOOHHH. That bearded earthworm of a cousin! He’s always doing this ya know, running us for as much drink as he can! I thought ya had died or gotten eaten or something! I didn’t ask for details out of respect but gods shave me raw for not thinking about it when he came crying to me!”

The dwarf started to stroke his beard angrily, which wasn’t something I thought could be done until now.

“I’m gonna take him to high-side the next time I see that overgrown earth mole!” the dwarf said with a grumble.

“You know him?” Niff asked me.

“Nope,” I replied.

Her head turned curiously towards the dwarf.

“Do all dwarfs just know each other or-”

“No, we don’t,” the dwarf cut in. “Pure luck I suppose. Grundle is my cousin on my great-grandmother’s side.”

“I didn’t think he had any family,” I replied.

“Neither does he at times,” the dwarf chuckled. “He barely leaves the ground, and if he does, this is the highest he’ll go most of the time. I work around this level a lot so I try to swing by when I can, otherwise, the family would forget his name after a few centuries.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything more out of him,” I replied

“Damn right!” the paladin snorted.

I chuckled at his reaction.

“How’d he manage to get that drill, anyways? Thing looks like it's beyond his budget.”

“It is!” The dwarf yelled. “He got it from our great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather. He was touched by the Lady of Earth as well and the two mad bastards changed his will weeks before he passed! It was the most expensive thing he owned ya know! An artifact from ancient war times worth millions!” The dwarf spoke with a shake of his head.

“But, it was for the best I suppose. Better him digging with the drill than with his hands like a mad moleman,” he finished.

“I could see Grundle doing that.” I nodded. “Actually, I think I had seen him doing that once when his drill was out of fuel. Does he bathe by the way?”

“Once a month,” the dwarf replied. “Otherwise I’ll drag him up to the surface, that’s the deal we made.”

I again chuckled at the statement.

“I’m Darvind, Darvind Hymth. Paladin of The Lady of Mirth,” he spoke with an extended hand.

I reached over and shook it. The man’s hand was firm but soft, which was strange for a dwarf. Dwarves normally had tough calloused hands.

“Elurn Rathor, a warlock of The Lady of Lies,” I replied in kind.

“Warlock? Isn’t the Lady of Lies a true divinity?”

“Yeah,” I replied with a shrug. “But I prefer calling myself a warlock instead of a holy mage. Calling myself that tends to insult some people.”

“Aah, being a half-demon and all?”

“That too, but a lot of the churches see the Spider in a dark light, even comparing her to the Dark Lord a bit.”

“Mhm, must be rough then? That and your bloodline.”

“It makes it easier. As much as the churches don’t like the Lady of Lies, they at least respect her divinity. And all gods, aside from the Dark Lord, hate demons, so her acceptance of me tends to help more than harm.”

The dwarf nodded as he stood next to me. He had come to my row and sat on the other side of the aisle for better conversation.

“Grundle said you're a bit of an artificer then?” The dwarf prodded.

“Well, I can do basic maintenance on most magical artifacts, but almost anyone can do that with a little bit of training. I just dabble in it is all, enough to live on.”

“Ya must be decent if you made enough to live off of,” Niff commented.

“Barely,” I said with a shrug. “I made a few thousand a year. But I had all the spells I needed to live off of for the most part.

“You can eat spells?” Niff asked curiously.

“No,” I chuckled. “I mean that I had spells to supplement myself with. I have a moisture-gathering bottle along with a bait rune. Lots of things lived in the ground around me.”

“Like cave-rats?”

I nodded.

The dwarf looked at me with a grimace.

“Really? Cave-rats?” The dwarf asked.

“I’ve had worse.”

“Cave-rats are okay, but it depends on what variety you get,” Niff commented.