I walked across tall, barren halls of stone next to the hero of humanity. Only two quick centuries earlier, these magnificent caverns had been full of the noise of life and merriment, but now lay dark, empty, and unnervingly still from corner to corner. The lonely echo of our footsteps was the sole thing to disturb the slumber of Baloria, the kingdom under the mountains.

Overhead in the long passage still hung the ghosts of old banners, frayed on the edges and sapped of color. Torchlight briefly restored a flicker of life unto them, and unto the shapes and contours of the vast reliefs on the walls, then to be left in the shadows again.

Next to me, Raymond soaked in every detail in silent awe. There was no fear in his eyes, only open, child-like curiosity. It was a bit strange to me to see a grown man exhibit such undisguised wonder. Then again, he was only seventeen. Barely on the cusp of manhood.

“Who built this place?” he finally asked aloud.

“The dwarves of the Blue Ridge,” I answered.

“Dwarves?”

“Yes. They came from the north to found a mining colony here in the Ursus range. Over time, their modest audits grew into an outpost, the outpost grew into a town, and the town grew into a kingdom. That is Baloria.”

“Wow, what do you know,” Raymond murmured as he stepped on. “So there are dwarves…”

More so than by the ruins, he seemed mystified by the builders. I’d heard he grew up far in the country, effectively in isolation without much outside contact, but I didn’t think he’d even be a stranger to dwarves. If you were to ask me, the man was more an enigma than Baloria.

Old stories claimed that whenever a great peril threatened the world, a hero would arise to thwart it. A warrior possessed of talents beyond the ordinary; a champion, who would unite all the good against evil. This had supposedly happened many times in the past. The peril in this age was believed to be the Dark Lord of distant Thuria. At least, Thurians had posed the menace twice before, and twice had heroes trounced them. You would think they’d have learned their lesson by now.

And, as if in answer to the people’s unspoken prayers, this man appeared out of nowhere.

Raymond Reed. Or, Ray for short.

He didn’t look particularly special on the outside. A standard human male of his age. Rigorous martial training had given him muscle over the summer months, and he wasn’t unpleasant to look at, but it was still difficult to tell him apart from most other representatives of his generation. If not for his almost black hair and eyes, which were something of a rarity in the central continent.

A wandering wizard had brought Raymond to the imperial court a year ago, saying this youth was the chosen one, and that we should take good care of him, so that he’d be ready when the time came. The precise date or hour of the “time” was not specified.

Most of the court regarded this story with extreme suspicion, as you might expect, but the Emperor recognized the upsides in it. If Ray indeed was what he pretended to be, it could be nice to be able to say the savior of life hailed from Ferdina. And even in the event that he turned out less than legendary, what was one more mouth to feed? He didn’t take up much of anyone’s time, and wasn’t a particularly bad person, all in all.

If there was anything unusual about Ray, it was perhaps his personality. From the beginning, I thought it was odd how nonchalant he was about his strange circumstances. Many had questioned if he truly understood what he had gotten himself mixed into, that his mission was likely only a one-way ticket to an early grave. He was only seventeen, too. Wouldn’t it have been wiser to accept employment in the court and stay?

But with a smile, Ray had told everyone not to worry. This was what he was born to do.

Ray went on to study swordsmanship, magic, as well as more conventional subjects under the most capable tutors at the court. And he had stuck to his unbelievable story all the way through, and embraced his laborious role without a word of complaint. Everyone had attentively followed Ray’s antics through the year—especially the women, often at a regrettable detriment to their duties. Getting any real work done had become a challenge since his appearance.

Then, quite precisely a year since Ray’s arrival, Alhereid, the wizard who had brought the youth, sent word that duty calls the chosen one. We were to bring Ray to the town of Faulsen in Argento, north of the Ursus mountains, where he might begin his journey to heroism in earnest.

The whole court had been rather dumbstruck to learn this. It seemed the amusing freeloader had been something of a champion, after all. But—was he truly going to be all right?

Ray had trained well, but he had yet to see real battle even once. What it meant to fight for your life. I could only wonder what the wizard was thinking, dispatching a greenhorn like him into an unconquered dungeon straight off the bat. A trial by fire?

Of course, it wasn’t only the two of us there.

Bringing an army had been out of the question, but we did have a squad of handpicked soldiers from the Imperial Guard with us, dressed inconspicuously as cloaked wanderers:

Ser Vergil, Guard Captain and the son of the Earl of Strums; Sergeant Klein, a stalwart sentinel whose skill with the spear was known nation-wide; Corporal Samuel Strutt, a man somewhat round at the equator, but strong as an ox; and last but not least, Corporal Thiselt Lysse, the most talented archer in the entire force.

I was there only to talk—and open doors.

The dungeon entrance was under the supervision of the Adventurer’s Guild. Dungeons, like adventurers themselves, were ranked, and you needed at least one companion of the same rank as the dungeon, or higher, to get in. None of the soldiers were registered with the Guild. There weren’t many in the court who were, making my participation something of a necessary evil.

I had every intention to give that wandering conjurer a piece of my mind on arrival, for involving innocent bystanders in his grand schemes. I had real work to do too. Did the Princess remember to pack her lunch with her to school today? The fear of her going hungry made my stomach hurt.

“So,” Ray spoke again. “What happened to make the place like this?”

If it was a story he wanted, I decided to humor him, if only to distract myself.

“The Kingdom of Baloria flourished and grew for three hundred years. They became in short order the largest supplier of raw materials, jewelry, and weapons in the region, and the linchpin of commerce. Alas, it was not meant to last. In their endless ambition and greed, the dwarves dug too far and deep, and one day pierced through the crust to the inner earth.”

“The inner earth?” Ray repeated, a brow high-raised.

“Yes. The hollow earth. Deep under us, they say, at the center of the planet, there is another sun and another realm. That of monsters. The denizens of the inner earth loathe and envy those of us above, and wish for nothing more but our ruin. Wherever they find a crack to slip through, they climb up, and come to wreak havoc upon our towns and villages.”

“Really?” Judging by his heavily doubtful face, Ray seemed to think I was making fun of his ignorance. I wished I were.

“It’s true,” I said. “All the monsters you come across out there in the forests and fields are either runaway fiends from the world down under, or their halfbreed descendants. It is impossible to be rid of them all. We can only partially contain them. Managing the monster population is one of the core duties of the Adventurers’ Guild. It was what the Guild was originally made for.”

“Huh!”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

A loud crack of a rock falling in the distance startled Ray.

I continued the story,

“The beasts of the inner earth do nothing but battle endlessly for supremacy, they say. This makes the purebreeds quite a bit more dangerous than the usual garden variety. Dealing with only one is trouble enough, and the opening the dwarves made here was apparently fairly large. Imagine dozens, hundreds of ferocious beasts pouring up from under your feet without any warning. Thus fell Baloria. The dwarves didn’t give up their homes willingly, of course. They are quite stubborn by nature, and a great many perished in these halls before they recognized the futility of the struggle. The few survivors fled back to their brethren in the north, and dream of revenge to this day. But have not the strength to claim it.”

“I see,” Ray uttered with a heavy sigh. “That’s a pity.”

It seemed to me it wasn’t so much the tragedy of their kingdom that disheartened him. He’d just wanted to see dwarves and was disappointed to learn there wasn’t going to be any. Soon he looked up and surveyed the dead-quiet maze of stairs and corridors anew.

“We’ve been here since early morning, but it doesn’t seem there are that many monsters in here. Where are they all hiding?”

I’d intended the story as a warning, most of all, yet it sounded like he wanted to bump into monsters.

“Baloria covers a vast area and spans multiple floors. It is a labyrinth like no other. Fortunately for us, where the dwarves broke through is in the very lowest depths, and even the monsters have trouble finding their way this far up. You don’t see so many close to the surface, and what few show up are regularly cleared out by the Guild.”

“Makes sense.” Ray nodded in understanding. “A big dungeon like this makes a great training ground for the Guild, huh? There’s a bit of something for everyone.”

I shook my head, exasperated by his reasoning.

“This isn’t a playground. It is a dungeon. They are all unfair death traps by definition. Baloria is only ranked E because it’s possible to avoid fighting by staying on the safe route. Don’t be fooled by the letter. Leave the path marked by the yellow arrows, and you may never see daylight again.”

“Huh? But didn’t you say the Guild comes here all the time?”

“They do, but not for training—for trade. Baloria provides the shortest route through the Ursus Range to the northern kingdoms. Most traders and travelers cannot afford the long trip around. Either they limit their business to one side, or else take the risk and hike through the dungeon. It’s for their sake the way is regularly patrolled and marked. Adventurers risk their lives to protect this path, because they are paid a lot of money to do so. Not only to test their mettle. Underestimate this place at your own peril.”

“Hmm.” Ray reflected on my words for a moment. “You’re sure are well-informed, Ria. I didn’t know you were an adventurer too. Is the maid thing just a side job?”

“…” I was caught off-guard by the name and nearly missed a step.

Princess Anastasia was the only one who called me Ria, but it seemed he’d picked it up too. Her highness had found it terribly amusing how her own favorite pet name was “Sia”, I was “Ria”, and he was “Ray”. A trio of three-letter people. What a strange and childish thing to get giddy about, but that was also one of her highness’s adorable points. I wasn’t so sure I could approve of Ray calling me that way, but it was a pointless thing to argue about. Sometimes, you lost if you acknowledged there was an issue.

More than that, I was stunned by the underlying logic in his question, suggesting someone might prefer to be an adventurer over being a maid, if given the choice. His priorities were, again, out of this world.

“I registered with the Guild when an opportunity arose,” I answered his question. Was it a question? “All imperial maids must have combat experience. My duties sometimes involve running errands for the Guild too, but those occasions aren’t many.”

“Huh. Okay?”

And being well-informed was a given. Conducting basic background research before diving into a den of monsters was such an elementary step to take, I thought it went without saying. After being saddled with this ludicrous assignment, I’d gone and read every travel journal I could get my hands on, and interviewed seasoned adventurers at the capital bureau. It was the least I could do to make up for the fact that I’d never actually been to Baloria before.

“That said, I do have some experience exterminating monsters.”

“Really? You do?” Ray gave me an appraising sideways glance. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t look particularly strong…”

Instead of mocking me, he seemed only sincerely surprised—and a little worried—so I ignored the remark. I reluctantly opened a button under my collar and drew out the steel chain with the Guild-issued dog tags for proof. I didn’t normally wear them, but they were a must-have in the field. So my corpse could be properly identified, and my family informed, if the worst came to pass. Or, my employer, in this case.

“Fighting monsters isn’t only a matter of muscle,” I told Ray. “There are very few beasts even a grown man can hope to overpower in a contest of brute force. Thankfully, there are other ways to fight.”

“Such as?”

I was about to answer when something moving in the dark ahead of us caught my eye. Sergeant Klein had noticed the same, and gestured for the party to stop.

There was no time to even think about hiding. Not that there were hideouts in the barren, empty hallway either. We could only stand there and stare on as a pair of goblins strolled into view. The goblins shortly saw our lights and likewise froze in place.

It seemed there were only those two.

“Ah, an excellent timing,” I said and turned to Ray. “Rather than hearing a lecture on it, perhaps it is better to learn by doing. Cut them down.”

The young man looked back at me, as if I had declared our country’s overnight conversion to a republic, to which I added,

“Cut them down, alone.”