The dungeon's exit turned out to be anticlimactic—a simple rising tunnel that opened into a forest clearing, lit by the glow of two moons hanging in the night sky.
"Two moons. Definitely not in Kansas."
Mark drew a deep breath, filling his lungs with fresh air for the first time since waking up.
The contrast with the dungeon's stale stink was almost intoxicating.
"Master, are you all right?"
Elyndra stood at his side, close enough that he could feel the unnatural cold radiating from her body.
It wasn't unpleasant—just… different. Like standing beside a marble statue that had come alive.
"I'm fine," Mark said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "Just… appreciating the scenery."
"The scenery is beautiful," she agreed, though her eyes never left him. "But not as beautiful as you, Master."
Okay, that was intense.
Mark cleared his throat, uncomfortable.
"Ely… can I call you Ely?"
"You may call me anything you wish, Master. Any name from your lips will be music to my ears."
Yeah, I definitely overdid the personality modification.
"Ely," he continued, forcing himself forward, "I need you to explain some things about this world. I… I've been isolated a long time. My knowledge might be outdated."
It was an obvious lie, but Elyndra accepted it without question.
Of course she did. She was programmed to accept anything he said.
That should make me feel guilty. Why don't I feel guiltier?
"Of course, Master. What would you like to know?"
Over the next hour, as they walked through the forest searching for signs of civilization, Elyndra explained the basics.
It was, as he'd suspected, a generic fantasy world.
Adventurers had ranks from F up to SSS.
Dungeons appeared naturally and spawned monsters.
Magic existed, though it was relatively rare. And there was an Adventurers' Guild that regulated everything.
"Necromancers," Ely explained, her tone carrying restrained disapproval, "are… looked down upon. Manipulating the dead is considered an affront to the gods. Most are hunted and executed."
"Great. I'm a social outcast in an unfamiliar world. Some things never change."
"And you?" Mark asked. "What do you think of necromancers?"
Elyndra looked at him with those impossible blue eyes, her expression softening.
"I think my master is the most wonderful person in the world. If he is a necromancer, then necromancy must be the noblest art to exist."
"That doesn't answer the question, but I guess it's the best I'm going to get."
Eventually, they found a road. And the road led them to a city.
It wasn't large—more like a medieval European town. Stone walls. Wooden-and-thatch houses. A central plaza with a fountain. The usual.
"Master," Ely said, stopping before the gates, "my presence may cause… complications."
Mark frowned.
"Why?"
"I am… was… known. Elyndra Ashford, the Knight of Dawn. My disappearance three weeks ago caused quite a stir. If they see me…"
"Shit. I didn't think of that."
"Can you… hide somehow?"
Elyndra tilted her head, considering.
"I have a skill. Shadow Merge. It allows me to hide within any nearby shadow. But it only works if a shadow is available."
"Perfect. Then stay in my shadow. Only come out if I call you, or if I'm in danger."
"As you command, Master."
And with that, Elyndra dissolved. Literally. Her body turned translucent, then transparent, then vanished completely—melting into the shadow Mark cast beneath the moonlight.
"That was… disturbing. And also incredibly useful."
Mark approached the city gates, trying to look as normal as possible—which was difficult, considering his appearance screamed "edgy videogame character" from a mile away.
The gate guard eyed him suspiciously.
"Name and purpose?"
"Mark," he said, choosing his real name because nothing else came to mind. "I'm an adventurer. I'm looking to register with the guild."
The guard looked him up and down, clearly judging his equipment—or rather, his lack of it.
"Rank?"
"F."
A mocking smile crossed the guard's face.
"Another newbie. The guild's in the central plaza. Don't cause trouble."
Mark nodded and entered the city, feeling the guard's stare burning into his back.
Rank F, he thought bitterly. Bottom of the barrel. Everyone's joke.
But in his shadow, invisible to everyone but him, traveled a rank SSS warrior who adored him unconditionally.
Maybe being rank F isn't so bad after all.