The ElmForg Adventurer Guild was already busy when morning came with armor clanking at every movement, boots thumping across the wooden floor, and voices mixing together in dozens of conversations. The smell of roasted meat from the kitchen mixed with sweat, leather oil, and faint traces of smoke from the fireplace while the air buzzed loud and chaotic.
Eron slipped in through a side door and adjusted the strap of his hiking bag. He'd only come to look, to see how things worked, but the atmosphere pulled at him and before long he found himself moving toward the main hall where announcements were made.
Near the western wall, a group stood apart from the rest with cloaks marked by the silver-threaded crest of a snarling wolf. Even without the emblem, the way they moved and spoke made their rank obvious. These were Silver Rank adventurers, professionals, the kind everyone else naturally gave space to.
Eron hung around at the edge of the crowd, planning to only watch, but without realizing it he'd stepped into the loose line of recruits forming in front of the GrayWolf party.
Marcus, the scarred swordsman leading them, looked over the hopefuls with cool, practiced eyes while his hand rested casually on the longsword strapped across his back. "Stone Maw Dungeon. We need three porters. Carry supplies, carry loot, follow orders. Nothing more. Payment when we return."
Beside him stood Aldric, a tall mage in blue robes with a staff topped by a glowing crystal. His eyes swept across the line and his lip curled into a faint smirk as he pointed with the tip of his staff. "You," he said, choosing a burly bald man. "And you." His staff pointed toward a skinny youth with sharp eyes, then after a pause it pointed straight at Eron. "And you. The one who looks like he'll break first."
Snickers rose around them and heat crawled up Eron's neck. *Porter work. Just carrying things, right? I can do that.* He thought about the five copper from yesterday's slime quest, barely enough for a single meal, and his stomach had been growling all morning while the cheapest inn had still turned him away. *I need the money. Maybe I can learn something too.*
Doubt crept in. These people clearly saw him as disposable. But what choice did he have? Couldn't keep sleeping in the forest forever.
Eron stepped forward. "I'll do it."
The bald man grunted while sizing him up. "Try not to slow me down, country boy."
The skinny youth smirked. "He looks softer than bread. He'll be crying before we reach the stairs."
Eron pressed his lips together and said nothing.
They loaded gear outside the guild. Spare weapons, food supplies, coils of rope, camping tools. And the packs were heavy with straps straining under the load. Eron got the heaviest bundle and the leather straps bit into his shoulders the moment he lifted it.
"Good," Aldric muttered. "At least the pack mule has strong legs."
Kael, the archer leaning against the gate with his bow across his shoulders, chuckled. "Maybe he can light our torches too. Candle flames are good for something."
Eron breathed out slowly and adjusted the pack, jaw tight.
The march to Stone Maw was steady with the group moving like soldiers who'd done this countless times while the porters trudged behind, bent under their burdens. The adventurers spoke among themselves in low voices. "First floors are clear this week," Vex reported, a lean scout with eyes constantly scanning the path. "No major movements on record."
"Good," Marcus said. "We'll aim for Floor 10. No deeper this time."
Lyra, the quiet healer in pale robes, frowned slightly. "The air feels strange around the ridge, like the currents are pulling harder than usual."
Aldric scoffed. "Every dungeon feels strange if you think too much about it."
Kael smirked. "Save the worrying for when the pay runs out."
The bald porter shifted his pack with a grunt. "Feels heavier than the kid's."
The skinny one laughed. "That's because spark-boy's carrying nothing but pride."
Eron kept his eyes on the jagged opening ahead and ignored them.
They entered Stone Maw Dungeon and everything went quiet. The air turned damp and carried the stench of moss and rust while torches lit their way, flames flickering against heavy darkness. Each step echoed through the empty corridors.
Eron adjusted to the march rhythm. Vex at front checking the way, Marcus close behind, Aldric and Kael in the middle, Lyra trailing, porters at the rear. While orders came short and sharp. "Keep formation." "Vex, scout ahead." "Porters, stay in line."
The corridors twisted with damp stone narrowing then widening again while water dripped from the ceiling in irregular beats. Eron's chest tightened with every step. *This isn't a game. If something happens, there's no second chance.*
Their first enemies came fast. Goblins rushed from a side passage with yellow eyes gleaming and rusty blades flashing while they shrieked and charged. "Front!" Marcus barked.
Vex met the first goblin with his blade and metal rang out while Aldric thrust his staff forward. Flame burst from the tip and the goblins shrieked as fire surrounded them while arrows whistled past, striking throats and skulls. The fight ended in seconds.
Eron's pulse hammered as burnt flesh filled his nose and his palms were slick against the pack straps. One goblin darted past the chaos with its dagger raised and sprinted toward the back.
Eron's body moved before his mind caught up and a spark leaped from his palm. Weak and small. Hitting the goblin's chest. The goblin stumbled just long enough for Marcus's sword to finish it.
The goblin fell at his feet with eyes still wide while the dagger clattered across stone and blood pooled fast. The metallic smell choked him and he froze, staring at the corpse. He'd never killed anything before, not like this, and his throat went dry.
Aldric turned sharply with narrowed eyes. "Stay back. Don't waste your candle sparks."
The others laughed and even the porters smirked. Eron bit the inside of his cheek and said nothing.
By Floor 7, sweat gleamed on everyone's foreheads while Vex crouched at the corridor entrance with narrowed eyes. "Strange. No slimes, no goblins. Floor 7 should've been crawling with them."
Lyra shifted uneasily. "The air feels heavier the deeper we go, like the mana's been drained."
Aldric flicked his hand dismissively. "Monsters wander. It happens."
Marcus's voice was firm. "Whatever the case, stay sharp. We adapt."
Eron followed quietly with ears straining, hearing only dripping water, shuffling boots, and his own breathing.
They entered a wide chamber where torchlight barely reached the far side and the ground was rough, clawed in places, littered with bones. The smell hit first. Wet fur, copper, musk. Then came the growls, low and rumbling, vibrating in his chest.
Red eyes flickered in the dark. One pair, then three, then half a dozen. "Wolves," Vex hissed. "Too many."
The first wolf lunged and Vex met it with his blade as steel rang while another darted sideways and an arrow caught its flank. More came, larger than expected with thick fur and gleaming fangs. "These aren't Floor 7 wolves," Lyra breathed. "They're stronger."
The wolves attacked in waves as steel clashed and fire roared while Aldric hurled blazing orbs into their ranks. Marcus fought through the pack with precise swings.
Eron stumbled back and clutched his pack, breathing shallow and fast. *If one gets through, I'm dead.*
One did and it snarled with jaws wide, but Kael's arrow pierced its eye an instant before it reached him. Blood sprayed across the stone, hot and real against his cheek.
The battle raged for minutes as wolves circled, snarling and leaping at weak points while Vex's arm buckled under a strike. Aldric gritted his teeth as his flames flared brighter, scorching fur and flesh, while Marcus kept fighting and brought down wolf after wolf.
When it ended, the chamber reeked of blood and smoke with charred corpses still smoldering. Vex's arm dripped blood while Kael hissed as he pressed cloth against his thigh where fangs had torn through the fabric, but he stayed upright with his bow clutched tight.
Lyra worked fast with glowing hands as she murmured prayers and cuts closed while bruises faded, but exhaustion showed on every face.
"They're Floor 8 wolves," Vex said grimly. "No mistake. What're they doing here?"
Marcus wiped his blade clean, face hard. "Doesn't matter. We move forward."
Lyra frowned and lowered her staff. "If monsters from deeper floors are rising, something's disturbing the balance."
The silence that followed felt heavier than their packs and even Aldric said nothing. At last, Marcus gave the order. "Form up. We dive to Floor 8."
The torches flickered as they moved on with shadows stretching long across the walls. Eron walked at the back in silence and watched blood drip from his pack straps where a wolf's claw had grazed it. His legs were steady but his mind raced. He didn't fully understand what the others feared, but the tension in their voices said enough.
Something was wrong with the dungeon and they were walking straight into it.