The ancient wooden door of the Adventurers' Guild burst open with a sudden, violent release, as if it could no longer contain the explosive energy behind it. Leon was the first to emerge, his arm held high, waving their newly-issued guild permit wrapped in a brilliant crimson ribbon. He leaped into the air with a light hop, shouting with all his might into the small, crowded courtyard buzzing with carts and vendors' cries:
"Goodbye to dusty libraries, hello to gold and glory! We're officially adventurers, everyone!"
Elara followed with more measured steps, though a faint smile touched her usually taut lips. She kept one hand on an elegant leather satchel, guarding the feminine treasures within. In a light, aristocratic accent, she watched Leon dancing around a lamppost and said:
"And field experience, Leon... remember, we're still D-rank. That means slime and goblins, not demons."
Milo slipped out from behind Elara, his eyes shining like a child's on their birthday. He clutched a sticky piece of candy, having apparently sneaked off to the sweetshop while they waited. He bounced eagerly, throwing an arm around Leon, his small fist tapping Leon's back playfully.
"D-rank today, S-rank tomorrow! I'll make our team's name echo in every tavern from here to the Ashen Plains! I can see our emblem now: four knights standing atop a mountain of goblin skulls!"
Leon laughed, casting a quick glance toward Kayan, who was the last to exit the guild. As always, Kayan didn't share their exuberance. He walked slowly, his ash-gray eyes scanning the sky above. His lips were pressed together lightly, as if he were tasting the very air.
"What is it, Kayan?" Leon asked. "Didn't you finally pass the 'Identifying Magic Fungi' exam?"
Kayan paused and raised his hand, pointing toward an indistinct northern direction from which the wind was blowing.
"The wind tastes strange today, Leon... as if it carries the scent of something very old. Something rusted."
Leon, Elara, and Milo exchanged glances. Milo chuckled. "That's our Kayan! Always finding something odd, even in breakfast soup."
But Leon, the team leader, clapped a hand on Kayan's shoulder with feigned solemnity. "Don't worry, Kayan. Whatever the wind smells of, by tomorrow, we'll make it carry the scent of our victories!"
**Scene Two**
With these words, the four of them set off down the bustling lane, their youthful enthusiasm a cloak around them, the golden afternoon sun trailing behind like a witness to their bright beginning.
The Drunken Beast tavern was a cacophony of noise, the air thick with the scent of roasted barley. The four friends sat around a hefty wooden table, with Leon at the center, already narrating a fictional—yet-to-happen—tale of how he'd take the head of the first orc he met.
It wasn't long before a group of women approached, clad in thin silken gowns ill-suited to the evening's chill, which revealed much of their form. Their leader, a woman with pale green eyes and an enigmatic smile, laid a soft hand on Leon's shoulder.
"We heard a new champion was in town, who earned the rank of 'adventurer' on his very first day," she whispered in his ear, her voice a serpentine hiss.
Leon burst out laughing, his chest swelling with pride. "Oh, you must be talking about me! Yes, yes… my team and I!"
Elara watched sharply, setting her tankard down with a force that produced a resonant clang. "Leon, be careful. These aren't admirers; they're 'tavern brides'… It's rumored half of them practice minor enchantment magic. They'll leave you penniless by morning, perhaps even without your boots."
Leon twisted his lips dismissively, the effects of drink and vanity taking hold. "Oh, Elara, you always see dark magic everywhere. They just want to celebrate a real hero. Milo, tell her!"
But Milo was busy fussing over his forest fox, while Kayan watched the women through narrowed eyes. Kayan leaned toward Leon and hissed, "There's something unnatural about their perfume scent… it's too heavy. It's masking the smell of magic."
Leon didn't hear. He stood, taking the green-eyed woman's hand. "I'm going to rest in the rooms upstairs… Don't worry, I'll be at my peak by dawn for our dungeon run."
Elara shot him a despairing look as he disappeared behind the wooden staircase with the women. "Idiot… He's going to lose all the gold we saved for equipment."
At dawn, the three waited at the village gate. Leon finally appeared, but he was not the gleaming knight of yesterday. His face was pale, his hair disheveled, and most importantly… his coin purse was completely empty. Even his sword scabbard was missing the silver filigree that had adorned it.
"Not a word!" Leon croaked, walking past Elara, who stood with her arms crossed in silent triumph.
"To the dungeon?" Milo asked, trying to break the awkward silence.
"Yes," Leon exhaled sharply, pulling out his sword with a jerk to hide his shame. "To the dungeon. I need to kill something… and fast."
At the village's stone gate, the party stopped before a guard wearing polished armor emblazoned with Baron Simon's crest. Leon presented their mission papers with a hand that trembled slightly from the previous night's exertions. The guard examined them carefully, then handed them back with a tepid smile.
"D-rank? Good luck, youngsters. Try to be back before dusk. The forest shows no mercy to beginners."
As they moved farther from the village gate, the road was paved with uniform gray stones—a feature exclusive to the domains managed by Baron Simon. On either side, wheat fields swayed like a sea of gold, and peasants greeted them with faces etched with tranquility.
Elara paused to adjust her silk gloves, gazing toward the manor looming on the horizon. "They say the Baron hasn't slept in three years. He spends his nights in the castle's cellars, studying ancient alchemy and scrolls of immortality. People call him 'the Obsessed' behind his back."
"Oh, yes," said Milo. "There are rumors he's lost his mind."
"Shh, don't say that out loud, you fool," hissed Kayan.
"Still, we must admit," Elara said, adjusting her pack, "Baron Simon may be obsessed with books on immortality, spending his nights on strange experiments in his manor, but he's a genius administrator. This village is a miracle compared to our neighbors."
"Exactly. And he actually commands one of the most sophisticated and disciplined orders of magicians on the entire continent," added Leon.
Leon stopped suddenly, shading his eyes from the sun with his hand, pointing toward the distant White City, which shimmered as if a piece of cloud had fallen to earth.
"Look at it… There's no mud there, no smell of sweat, no poverty. My dream is to be one of the elite knights guarding those white walls. Imagine 'Leon the Great' in silver armor astride a purebred steed, serving Baron Simon himself!"
Milo burst into hysterical laughter, having to lean on Kayan's shoulder for support. "Leon! The elite knights undergo rigorous 'Purity of Magic' trials and psychological evaluations. And just last night, you nearly sold your sword for a few sweet words from a tavern wench! You're as far from the White City as I am from being a giant!"
Leon grumbled and strode ahead to hide his embarrassment, while Elara smiled slyly and added, "At least the White City is safe from your recklessness for now."
When they crossed into the Forest, the temperature dropped abruptly. The trees here were colossal, their trunks covered in bioluminescent moss that exuded a scent like ancient rain.
The Ambush: Suddenly, the underbrush shuddered. Three Arc Wolves leaped out; their blue fur emitted faint electric sparks. Leon shouted, "Defensive formation!"
Leon surged forward, his blade igniting with orange flame that cleaved the air, while Elara traced a geometric symbol in the air, forming a translucent shield that repelled the first wolf's attack. Milo summoned his forest fox, which darted around the wolves, distracting them with brilliant flashes. The skirmish ended quickly, and Leon and Milo began skinning the creatures with practiced skill.
Shortly after, they stumbled upon a group of Fur-balls, small mana-creatures resembling rabbits but with wide, light-reflecting eyes. They hopped peacefully, emitting faint musical chirps.
Without hesitation, Leon swung his blade, snatching the lives of two.
"Leon! Stop!" Elara cried, her voice trembling slightly. "They're harmless; they don't even possess a defensive instinct!"
Leon wiped the creature's blood from his blade and said with the cold pragmatism of a novice adventurer, "Their hearts contain raw mana crystals, Elara. In this world, weakness doesn't buy bread. If you want to reach the White City, you must get used to seeing a little blood."
A heavy silence fell over the party. Even Kayan, who had been tracking the wind, stopped abruptly. The air ahead began to grow dense, and the birdsong vanished completely, replaced by a low, grating hum.
"We're here," Kayan whispered, pointing to the cave mouth that resembled a giant's maw trying to swallow the forest. "The entrance to Dungeon D-12. But there's something… the wind isn't flowing out of this cave; it's being pulled in… as if the dungeon is breathing."
Leon, ignoring Kayan's veiled warning, adjusted his sword belt and said, "Inside, then. Let's make the Guild Master proud of his new adventurers."
No sooner had they entered the first antechamber than globs of viscous green liquid began dripping from the ceiling but it wasn't water. It was Acid Slime. The droplets rapidly coalesced into barrel-sized masses, moving with a terrifying, gelatinous elasticity toward their legs.
"Milo, light!" Leon shouted, drawing his blade.
Milo released his Luminous Fox, which darted around the chamber, transforming the oppressive darkness into stark daylight, revealing dozens of the gelatious blobs lying in wait.
Elara was at her peak focus. She raised her wooden staff, set with a ruby, and began murmuring incantations of frost. "Fall back, Leon! I'll solidify their ground!"
A wave of cold exploded from beneath her feet, turning the damp floor into ice, robbing the slimes of their ability to slide and adhere. Seizing the opportunity, Leon leaped high, his hands gripping the hilt of his sword, which ignited with fire drawn from his own mana. He landed with a decisive slash, cleaving the largest slime mass in two before its core evaporated from the heat.
"Clean work!" said Milo, gathering the glowing core remnants from the ground. "These cores will fetch a fair price at the alchemy market."
As they ventured deeper, they reached a broad area strewn with jagged rock formations. Suddenly, a sharp, grating **horn** blared.
"Ambush!" Kayan yelled, touching the ground to feel the vibrations.
From the rocky crevices, a pack of Cave Goblins surged forth, but they weren't alone. They rode Stone Hounds—hairless, malformed beasts with thick, stone-like hides and jaws capable of crushing bone.
Poison-tipped arrows began to rain down on them. One grazed Leon's arm, and he cried out in pain and burning agony. "Elara, shield!"
But Elara was pinned; two goblins had leaped down from above, trying to grab her hair and wrest her staff.
"Milo, help her!" Leon roared, fighting off a hound trying to clamp onto his leg.
Milo employed misdirection. He commanded his Luminous Fox to erupt in an intensely bright flash, blinding the goblins and hounds for several seconds. In that moment of chaos, Elara regained her footing and slammed her staff against the ground:
"Echo Burst!"
A powerful sonic wave erupted, shattering nearby rocks and hurling the goblins away. Simultaneously, Kayan moved like a shadow through the dust; with his wind magic, he conjured invisible blades that severed the bowstrings of goblins hidden on higher ledges.
Leon, wounded but furious, charged forward, his sword trailing lines of fire. He dispatched the hound attacking him, then stood atop a high rock, panting heavily as he watched the remaining goblins flee in terror into the depths of the tunnels.
Leon wiped blood from his brow and looked at his team. Their clothes were slightly torn, and Elara was trying to gather her disheveled hair, but their eyes shone with the gleam of victors.
"Did you see that?" Milo laughed, trying to catch his breath. "That coordination was incredible! Elara, that sonic wave was brilliant!"
Elara smiled with modest pride. "I learned it in my final week at the academy. I didn't know it would be that effective."
Leon sheathed his sword with a flourish, ignoring the pain of his wound. "That's the difference between us and common mercenaries. We are scholars. We know how to integrate magic with tactics. We don't just succeed; we excel. This is the kind of mind Baron Simon seeks."
Leon pulled out the map, spreading it over a flat rock. "Alright, team, we've cleared this sector. The map indicates we've passed the danger zone. Now, we turn right toward the 'Chalice Hall' to complete the mission and head back for a celebration... a real one this time. And no 'tavern brides,' Elara, I promise!"
Everyone laughed, even Kayan, who was quietly observing the right-hand passage. It appeared safe, illuminated by ancient torches set into the walls—exactly as the map described.
The party moved with the giddiness of victory, exchanging laughs, their steps ringing confidently in the stone corridors. Suddenly, Leon stopped completely, as if he'd walked into an invisible wall. Elara, who was right behind him, didn't notice in time. She collided with the hard plate of his backplate and fell to the ground with a pained groan.
"What's wrong with you, you idiot? Why did you stop like that?" Elara shouted, clutching her reddened forehead.
Leon didn't answer immediately. He was frantically turning the map over in his hands, flipping it left and right under the torchlight, confusion etching his features. He muttered, voice uncertain, "I'm sorry… but something's wrong. Why did we turn left? The map doesn't show a left turn here."
Kayan stepped forward, his expression tense. He took the map from Leon's trembling hands and scrutinized it with intense focus before whispering, "The map says this corridor is a straight ten-meter stretch… ending in a simple wooden door."
"Oh, wonderful, oh leader! You've gotten us lost!" Elara exploded, rising and dusting off her torn clothes in anger. "Look at what you've done, you've ruined my outfit completely! Not even those filthy goblins managed this… by the Creator, how do you get lost while reading a map? This is the most basic thing we learned at the academy!"
Leon hung his head, the pressure of shame stifling him. "I'm sorry… I don't know what came over me. It felt like the path was guiding me here… I don't know."
"No need to fight now," Milo interjected, his voice growing sharp. "Let's just turn back. We've gathered enough spoils. I'd say this was a very successful first outing."
Elara sighed in frustration, shooting Leon a piercing glare before reluctantly agreeing. The party turned to retrace their steps, but a suffocating feeling soon began creeping into their chests.
The cave was no longer the same. The walls gradually narrowed, and jagged rocks hung from the ceiling like fangs of a beast preparing to snap shut. The silence became *oppressive*, unbearably so; their laughter no longer echoed, leaving only the ragged sound of their own breathing.
A strange green mold spread over the rocks, viscous and gleaming like creeping ancient ink, and the scent of dampness grew heavy, reminiscent of open graves. In this maddening quiet, the only sound was the rhythmic, monotonous drip of hidden water hitting the ground, amplifying the tension in their nerves.
After five minutes of hurried walking that felt like hours, they suddenly found themselves in a vast, open space. And facing them stood a massive wooden door, impossibly ancient, carved with symbols that bore no resemblance to the academy's style of magic.
"What is this?" Elara asked, her voice trembling this time.
"I think… I think it's the dungeon boss's door," Leon said, placing his hand on his sword hilt, trying to reclaim his courage.
Kayan responded swiftly, "I doubt it… The boss would be in the deeper strata, and we've barely descended three levels. This door shouldn't be here."
Leon scoffed to mask his fear, "Then what is it, oh 'sage of our time'? Is it Baron Simon's kitchen door?"
Elara didn't laugh. Her mana was growing restless from the tension. "Guys, a dungeon boss represents the peak of its tier… it could be C-rank strength. We are *not* ready for something like that."
"No need for cowardice, Elara," Leon replied, taking a step toward the door. "The rule says the boss doesn't leave its chamber. We'll open the door, take a quick look, and if we sense any danger… we run. Fast. Nothing will happen."
Leon placed his hand on the door's cold handle. In that moment, the dripping water ceased. An absolute silence fell, as if the entire world was holding its breath behind that ancient wood.