Chapter 1 - Guts, Steel, & Mana I

  In the world of Felle, far west in the Central Continent, a certain forest smelled of decay. A sickly, metallic tang hung in the air, carried on the gusts that whipped through the endless pine forests. In the distance, smoke curled into the darkening sky, punctuated by the flash of fire and the echo of clashing steel. Somewhere, screams tore through the night.

  Closer to the source of the chaos, a carriage lay overturned in the mud, its wheels half-buried and horses thrashing to escape their entrapment. Beside the wreck, a girl stirred.

  Her uniform, a white coat & black trousers was smeared with mud. Reddish-pink hair clung to her face, damp and filthy. Amber eyes with faint concentric red rings flickered open, dazed, staring at the rain-darkened sky as if it held the answers she sought. She barely registered the chill of the first drops before a figure lunged into view, a Blight, as its rotting jaws snap open.

  “Gah!!”

  The girl screamed, forcing herself upright. Hands shaking, she drew her dagger and drove it into the creature’s face. Blood slicked her chest as she heaved the corpse off her. Pain lanced through her head, perhaps she suffered a concussion but her memory held, thankfully. She knew her name. She knew her guild. She just couldn’t remember why they were here.

  "D-damn it… W-whuh… what…?"

  She muttered, her gaze flitting to the mangled carriage and the struggling horses. Then realization hit. Her hands clenched.

  "Oh right… I was driving…"

  Panic spiked. Memories of the passenger & its contents came back fiercely urgently.

  "OH FUCK! ASHE!!!"

  The girl didn’t hesitate. She sprinted through the mud, leaping into the ditch beside the carriage. There, huddled in the corner of the overturned cabin, was Ashe. Snow-white hair plastered to his face, a trickle of blood from a shallow cut, his blue cerulean eyes leveled on her with mild reproach.

  “Mina… Learn how to DRIVE!!!”

  he barked, his voice edged with frustration even as he clutched a heavy capsule to his chest.

  Mina helped him up, supporting his weight as he extracted the capsule, placing it on the muddy ground with a metallic thud that vibrated through her boots. It was heavy, dense with concentrated mana mixed with other fluids & solids, it was non-manipulable but these are usually used to power or sustain seals or magically powered machines, it essential to their current mission.

  “For Staynes sake… never drive the carriage again, gosh Mina. What even happened!?”

  Ashe’s tone was scolding, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed his concern.

  “I-I don’t know! It wasn’t my fault! Something…”

  Mina shuts her eyes shut to clear her thoughts and focus on remembering what even occurred,

  “Something came out of nowhere! One of the horses tripped… then… I think I went flying…” Mina’s words tumbled out, guilt tightening her chest. Ashe exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple.

  “Fine. I believe you.”

  He turned his attention to the two horses, still struggling in the ditch.

  “Hey… let’s leash Betty and Beck first. They’re exhausted.”

  “Yeah… sure,” Mina agreed, kneeling beside the animals as the rain intensified. Mud clung to her boots and sleeves, but she didn’t care. Her focus was on releasing the horses from the fallen carriage.

  The storm’s first true gust rattled the pines, carrying the distant echo of chaos. Somewhere out there, the blight waited. But for now, here, amid the mud, the rain, and the wreckage, two young guild operators began to regroup.

  The two managed to free the horses from the wreckage. Betty and Beck, sturdy, young reliable steeds raised personally by Trevus as they shook off mud and shivered in the light rain. Mina spared a glance at them. If anything happened to these animals, Trevus would never forgive them. Not that she could blame him; the beasts had been through enough already.

  Ashe and Mina fastened the reins to a thin pine, making sure the horses wouldn’t wander. The rain was easing into a steady drizzle, the muddy road slick beneath their boots. Ashe stepped back, surveying the makeshift tether.

  “We’ll come back for them. This operation’s still going until midnight,” he said matter-of-factly.

  Mina wiped mud from her palms.

  “Yeah… wouldn’t want them running off into another mess.”

  “Hey… should we leave a lantern hanging here?”

  Ashe asked, glancing at the gloom settling over the forest.

  “Sure… why not,”

  Mina replied, crouching as Ashe lifted a lantern onto a low branch. He struck a flint and a soft flame flickered to life, casting shadows across the wet foliage. It wouldn’t fend off monsters, but it would serve as a signal for any returning party members.

  They lifted the heavy capsule of mana together, balancing it carefully between them. Each step sank slightly into the mud, the metal’s weight pressing into their arms and shoulders. Side by side, they trudged down the dirt road, the forest pressing in from both sides like dark walls.

  “So… what exactly are we doing again? You were the one talking with Taph before we left camp…”

  Mina asked, the words spilling out in a nervous rush. Ashe exhaled, his cerulean eyes scanning the treeline.

  “Oh that, so uh we’re delivering this capsule to the strike force that went to clear the Blight out of Fort Haden. It’ll be the one to sustain and power the seal on the dungeon maw. Apparently the old one broke and caused an overflow event overnight.”

  He gestured vaguely toward the forest, as if the ominous shadows themselves could explain the situation.

  “Figure most squads are already out there, clearing the Blight spilling into the surrounding lands.”

  Mina muttered under her breath, hands tightening around the capsule.

  “An overflow event, huh… Whoever is in charge of maintaining that dungeon must be idiots. Letting something like this happen…”

  “Yeah,” Ashe said dryly, shoulders tensing as he adjusted his grip.

  “I imagine someone's head will get fired after all this.”

  The forest ahead was quiet for a moment, only the rain’s patter and the occasional rustle of branches accompanying their steps. Then the eyes appeared, glowing red, unnaturally still, just beyond the tree line. Corpses. Reanimated. Watching. Waiting.

  Mina froze for a heartbeat, then whispered,

  “Hey… Ashe… S-speed up, would you?”

  Ashe’s hands tightened on the capsule. His composure cracked for the first time since the crash, a flicker of panic crossing his pale features. He didn’t answer, only quickened his pace.

  The corpses emerged from the shadows, limbs jerking in unnatural movements, dragging feet across the slick earth. Their empty gazes locked onto the two figures trudging down the road.

  Mina’s heart pounded, adrenaline spiking. C’mon! Out run them. Just… don’t let them touch me! She stepped harder, mud splashing with every stride. Ashe mirrored her movements, their pace matching instinct with urgency.

  The dead shuffled onto the road, groaning, reaching. Each step the pair took brought them closer to safety or at least further from the horror trailing behind.

  The forest seemed to close in, the drizzle turning sharper, a cold wind biting through their soaked uniforms. The capsule felt heavier with every heartbeat.

  Mina’s breath came in ragged bursts.

  “We… can’t let them catch us,” she gasped.

  Ashe’s lips pressed into a thin line. We won’t. We can’t. Not with this in our hands.

  Behind them, the groans of the undead grew louder, relentless, as if the forest itself had come alive to watch them struggle. Every step forward was a small victory—but every second was a countdown to disaster.

  More shapes tore themselves free from the treeline.

  Hands clawed through wet soil. Bodies slumped forward, then stood. One after another, red pinprick eyes flared to life beneath the forest canopy. What had begun as a handful became dozens—then more—an uncoordinated tide of rotting flesh spilling toward the road.

  Mina and Ashe quickened their pace.

  Fast walking became a jog.

  The jog became a desperate sprint.

  The heavy capsule dragged at their arms like an anchor, its weight unforgiving, every step slamming into their shoulders and spine. It was the single most important object within miles—the core meant to stabilize the dungeon’s seal and it felt like the world itself was trying to tear it from them.

  “Wah!! I thought they had already cleared this place!”

  Mina screamed, panic bleeding into her voice as she twisted her head back.

  “Why are there still so many!?!?”

  That was a mistake she shouldn’t have made. The undead heard her. Several corpses rose from the forest grounds veered toward the road, drawn by sound rather than sight.

  Mina cursed under her breath and unsheathed her dagger with her free hand, the blade flashing silver as drops of rain streaked past it. She tightened her grip on the capsule’s handle, muscles burning.

  Ashe was barely keeping up. His breaths came sharp and shallow, his chest screaming in protest. He reinforced his legs with mana in thin, controlled layers coursing through his muscles to dull fatigue and force movement but even that had limits.

  “D-don’t ask me!” he snapped between gasps. “Stop screaming! You’ll attract more of them!!”

  “But you’re screaming too!” Mina shouted back, boots slamming into the mud.

  “It’s too late now! Just run—RUN!!”

  They tore down the road, light rain blurring their vision. Their reinforced boots bit into the slick ground just enough to keep them upright, splashing filth up their legs as the forest howled around them.

  Behind them, groans multiplied.

  After what felt like an eternity, their lungs finally rebelled. They slowed not by choice, but necessity, as dragging air in ragged gulps. Most of the Blight were slow, their movements jerky and uncoordinated, but their sheer numbers made them lethal.

  “Front! Front!” Ashe shouted. Something burst from the shadows ahead.

  Unlike the others, this corpse ran. Its face was mangled beyond recognition, flesh torn away to expose yellowed bone. One leg bent the wrong way, yet it moved with horrifying speed, sprinting straight at them.

  Mina’s heart lurched as it lunged right at her. So her instincts took over, without thinking—she released the capsule, twisting aside as rotten claws sliced through empty air where her head had been a heartbeat earlier. Mud sprayed as she pivoted, dagger flashing.

  The corpse turned unnaturally fast before lunging and swiping another claw again. Mina ducked low, rolled, and drove her dagger up into its abdomen with all her strength. But it was nothing effective to even stagger the abnormal beast.

  The blade sank in—but the corpse didn’t even flinch. Slowly, impossibly, it looked down at her.

  Its jaw cracked open, intending to bite a chunk of her scalp. Mina’s eyes widened—Shit!—The creature reared back to bite, but just before a sudden crash of bone & flesh occurred.

  The heavy capsule slammed into its skull. The Blights’s head caved inward and tore clean off its neck, spinning uselessly into the mud as the body collapsed in a lifeless heap.

  Ashe staggered forward, arms trembling from the impact, teeth clenched as he fought the recoil.

  “Hurry!” he barked, breath hitching.

  “We don’t have much time left!”

  Mina sucked in a sharp breath, blood splattered across her cheek. She wiped it away with the back of her sleeve, jaw tight—not in fear, but frustration.

  “Yeah. I know. Thank you! By the way!”

  She grabbed the capsule’s handle again, their fingers locking into place, and they pushed forward into a strained jog.

  Around them, the forest stirred. More red eyes ignited in the dark.

  They had been noticed because of their ruckus and the Blight was still coming.

  Mina and Ashe continued forward, boots pounding against the mud-soaked road as they carried the heavy capsule between them. The weight dragged at their arms, but neither dared slow. By Mina’s estimate, they were still at least two miles from the dungeon’s location. Even so, Ashe could already see it—thin columns of smoke spiraling into the darkening sky, rising from the small mountain fort nestled at the dungeon’s base.

  The sight sent a chill down Mina’s spine.

  “H-hey… you still holding up?”

  she asked, stealing a glance at Ashe. His face had gone pale, lips pressed thin, breath shallow and uneven. Mana reinforcement could only do so much when the body itself was reaching its limits.

  “Yeah…” Ashe answered bitterly.

  That was all he could spare.

  Every ounce of his focus was locked on maintaining their pace. His legs burned, his lungs screamed, and the steady drain of mana gnawed at the edges of his consciousness. Their boots struck hard against the road, splashing mud with every step. As they climbed higher, the ground grew slicker, the incline steeper—and worse, the forest refused to stay silent.

  More undead emerged from the treeline. Even another abnormality appeared amongst the Blight.

  Mina swore under her breath. One corpse staggered directly into their path. She released one hand from the capsule and kicked it aside, sending its brittle body tumbling into the mud. Another lunged from the left—its claws slashing wildly.

  “Duck!” she shouted.

  Ashe barely reacted in time, dropping low as decayed fingers sliced through the air where his throat had been. He snapped his hand upward, conjuring a translucent illusionary wall in front of the corpse. The undead hesitated to slam into it and froze, confused, its ruined mind unable to process the obstruction.

  Mina moved instantly.

  She burst from the illusion’s edge, her dagger flashing as she drove the blade straight into the creature’s forehead. The corpse collapsed without a sound. She didn’t stop there—two more emerged, and she dispatched them with swift, efficient strikes before sprinting back toward Ashe.

  “H-hey! Don’t stop just to stab two more!”

  Ashe barked, panic and frustration bleeding into his voice as he grabbed the capsule again.

  “I-I know! But they were tryin’ to grab me!”

  Mina shot back, breath ragged as they resumed their run.

  Fatigue weighed on them both like iron chains.

  Then they saw it.

  A lone figure stood ahead on the road, walking toward them with slow, deliberate steps.

  “H-hey…” Ashe muttered, his pace faltering. “What the hell is that?”

  The shape became clearer with each step. It was humanoid, tall, armored, and unmistakably armed. A sword hung loosely in its grasp, the blade scraping against the stones with a dull, metallic rasp.

  It was a Blighted Knight, most probably one of the original residents of Fort Haden turned into a Blight, too late to be exorcised, or just a dungeon-borne.

  Mina’s stomach tightened. Even for low-ranking operators, that thing was dangerous. Armored corpses retained fragments of skill. Reflex. Memory. They were nothing like the mindless dead they had been outrunning.

  She set the capsule down. Ashe’s head snapped toward her.

  “Wait—Mina, don’t—”

  “What are you doing!?” he shouted, panic creeping into his voice.

  Mina straightened and rolled her shoulders, reaching into her belt. A brass knuckle slid into place over her right hand. Her dagger remained firm in her left.

  “I’m gonna kill it, of course. There's no other choice”

  she said casually—then grinned.

  “Support me like usual, kay?”

  Ashe stared at her. Those amber eyes—ringed faintly with red—burned with a sharp, reckless resolve. Before he could argue further, she turned back toward the approaching knight.

  Bad situations like this don’t come often, Mina thought. I’m always the one carrying supplies. Utilities. Equipment.

  It’s high time I take action!

  The undead knight’s pace quickened.

  So did hers.

  They ran straight at each other, boots tearing through mud, the distance between them collapsing in seconds. The knight raised its sword, rusted joints shrieking as it prepared to swing.

  Mina pulled back her right arm, she was just a meter away from her target, even for someone else a punch from that distance won’t even reach the monster. But that’s just what Mina intended.

  She struck fist into the air in front of the Blight

  The brass knuckle flared as its enchantment activated—mana not channeled through her body, but through the artifact itself. Her intent surged into the metal, releasing a violent burst of compressed kinetic force.

  The impact thundered.

  The shockwave punched clean through the knight’s armor, blasting a crater through its abdomen. Metal warped, bone shattered, and its spine exploded outward in a spray of fragments. The corpse froze mid-step before collapsing in two—its upper body sliding off and crashing into the mud.

  Silence followed. For a heartbeat, even the forest seemed stunned.

  Mina exhaled slowly, lowering her fist.

  “See? Ha!” she said lightly with small victory in her voice before glancing back.

  “No problem.”

  But around them, the dead were still moving.

  And the night was far from over.

  “Uhh… hey, Ashe…”

  Mina said quietly, dread creeping into her voice as she slowed.

  “I think you might have to carry that thing on your own now…”

  Ashe followed her gaze. They were surrounded.

  From every direction, red eyes flickered between trees and broken rocks. The Blight staggered out of the forest in uneven waves, boots, bones, and armor scraping against the road. The dead closed in slowly but relentlessly cutting off every path forward and back.

  Ashe sucked in a sharp breath and gritted his teeth. Without a word, he looped a reinforced leather belt around the capsule, securing it tightly. With a strained grunt, he hoisted the heavy mana capsule onto his back, the weight nearly driving him to one knee before he caught himself.

  “D-damn it… this is too heavy!”

  he hissed, shoulders trembling.

  Mina stepped forward, positioning herself between Ashe and the encroaching dead. Her expression sharpened, it was not fearful, not reckless but focused.

  “You still got this, right?”

  She asked, voice steady. Ashe nodded once. This was it, he thought, this would definitely be one of the most physically demanding moments of his life before being eaten alive by a Blight.

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  He leaned forward, clutching the strap across his chest as he forced his legs to move. Every step sent pain flaring through his body, mana reinforcement barely keeping his muscles from collapsing under the strain.

  Mina didn’t look back, she didn’t need to. She had her own role to fulfill.

  She switched weapons mid-stride, slipping her first dagger away and drawing another slicker dagger etched with dense runic lines that pulsed faintly beneath the rain. This blade was different.

  In her hand, it felt weightless. To everything else, it was a catastrophe, its enchanted qualities allowed it to have the weight of several tons yet light as a feather to its wielder.

  When the first corpse reached her, Mina stepped in and slashed once.

  The dagger didn’t cut through flesh, it crushed & pulverized it in one go.

  Gravity surged outward from the blade as it connected, the force snapping bone and pulverizing flesh in a single, effortless motion. The corpse slammed into the ground as if struck by a falling mountain.

  Another lunged, as Mina pivoted, her brass knuckle flashing from her other hand. The artifact passively drank in ambient mana from the air, its internal arrays flaring as it discharged a concentrated burst of kinetic force. The impact detonated through the Blight’s chest, ripping apart mana-reinforced tissue and scattering fragments across the mud.

  She moved without hesitation. Each step was deliberate. Each strike was precise.

  The Blight fell in heaps as she carved a path forward. Her gravity-infused dagger cleaving through armored torsos with impossible ease, her brass knuckle shattering skulls and ribcages alike. To Mina, the effort felt minimal.

  To the dead, it was annihilation. Behind her, Ashe ran, he had a role himself. To safely carry the most pivotal part of this operation while Mina protected his front and cleared his way.

  His breaths were ragged, vision narrowing as he forced himself onward. The capsule weighed like an anvil, dragging at his spine, but he didn’t slow. He couldn’t.

  Just keep moving, he told himself. Don’t drop it. Don’t fall. Don’t make her turn back.

  Mina heard the strain in his footsteps and pushed harder. A Blight closed in from the sides, clawing, grasping, screaming without lungs. Mina answered them with steel and force, tearing open a corridor through the dead as rain washed blood into the road.

  They were moving. Slowly. Brutally. But still forward.

  And somewhere ahead, beyond the smoke and screams, the dungeon waited.

  Ashe and Mina pushed forward, refusing to slow.

  Mina swung her fist into open air, and the brass knuckles answered. Invisible barrages of compressed kinetic force erupted outward, tearing through undead flesh as if the air itself had turned hostile. Bodies ruptured mid-step, torsos blown apart without her ever touching them. Where force alone was not enough, her dagger followed, each swing crushing through rows of abdomens, gravity folding bone and armor inward like wet clay..

  For a moment, just a moment—it felt like they might actually break through until then, Mina’s foot slipped.

  Mud gave way beneath her heel, and her balance vanished in an instant. Her reflexes kicked in. She slammed her knuckles toward the ground, triggering the enchantment to release a kinetic burst meant to launch her back upright, however several Blighted hands caught her instead. Mina gritted her teeth as she felt something, but that wasn’t important at this moment. She twisted away from the mess, dragging her down. Mina snarled and swung her gravity-infused dagger in a wide arc. The blade hit, and another row of the Blight imploded, bodies collapsing inward under crushing force.

  Still, they came, there were too many to deal with.

  She charged the brass knuckle again and unleashed a violent blast. The shockwave tore through the horde, flinging corpses backward as the recoil sent Mina skidding through the mud as she slammed hard into Ashe.

  The world lurched as both of them hit the ground.

  The capsule thudded heavily against Ashe’s back as he curled instinctively around it. Rain pattered harder now, cold and relentless, mixing with blood and mud beneath them. Red eyes closed in from every direction. Groans layered atop one another until the sound became suffocating.

  Mina tried to rise. Her body didn’t respond fast enough, there were just too many of them, alongside what they had to carry.

  Is this it?

  The thought barely finished forming, when the sky split.

  Something tore downward from above.

  A figure crashed into the horde like a falling star, the impact detonating through the road with a violent boom! The ground shook. Undead were crushed flat beneath heavy boots, bodies bursting apart from the sheer force of the landing.

  A massive swing followed.

  A mace, in the form of a pernach swept through the air just above Ashe and Mina’s heads, obliterating an entire wave of undead in a single arc. Blood, bone, and blackened flesh sprayed outward, painting the rain-soaked road in gore.

  Silence followed… It was brief, stunned, and absolute.

  Mina looked up as a short figure stood before them, narrow-shouldered but immovable, her form drenched head to toe in blood. Blond strands clung to her face, slick and darkened. Green eyes stared down at them, sharp and unshaken, as if the carnage around her were nothing more than a mild inconvenience.

  Her gaze flicked briefly to the heavy capsule strapped to Ashe’s back.

  “So you two were the ones carrying the Heavy Mana.”

  she said flatly, voice steady and emotionless, Mina’s breath caught.

  “Wait—Lotha!? That’s you under all that gore!?”

  The blood-soaked woman did not deny it.

  She shifted her grip and rested the mace across her shoulders—a four-bladed pernach, its edges caked with gore and blackened ichor. She took one step forward, placing herself squarely between the horde and the fallen rookies.

  “Stay down.”

  That was all she said before she lunged forward.

  Lotha swung her mace in a wide, brutal sweep. The force behind it tore through the air itself, a violent gust following the strike as another wave of undead was erased in an instant. Bodies disintegrated. Armor crumpled. The road was painted anew with blood and shattered remains.

  This was not a fight. This was total extermination.

  Mina stared, wide-eyed, rain running down her face as she saw the carnage.

  Ahead of them, Lotha Mireyer advanced into the horde alone with the silent and unstoppable force of her mace as it rose and fell upon the Blight like judgment incarnate.

  And for the first time since the crash, Mina knew that they were going to live…

  The four-bladed pernach swept through the air in what looked like a lazy, almost casual arc. The result was anything but. A violent shockwave tore forward, pulverizing an entire horde in a single swing. Rotten flesh disintegrated on contact. Bones shattered mid-flight. Mangled body parts were flung skyward, raining down alongside blood and blackened ichor that blended seamlessly with the drizzle falling from the darkened sky.

  Lotha stood at the epicenter of the devastation.

  Her frame was small—petite, even. At a glance, she looked almost ordinary. Human. Unassuming. But beneath that compact silhouette lay dwarven blood, dense musculature, and explosive strength compressed into a body that wasted nothing.

  As the last of the undead collapsed into ruin, Lotha casually swiped blood from her face with the back of her gauntlet. Her breathing remained steady. Her posture unchanged. To her, the carnage had required no more effort than a warm-up swing.

  Only then she exhaled, seeing that there were none left within the area, she turned.

  Mina and Ashe were still frozen near the Heavy Mana capsule, soaked, trembling, staring at the aftermath with wide eyes. Compared to the battlefield Lotha had just erased, they looked painfully small.

  Lotha walked toward them with slow, deliberate steps, her mace resting easily at her side. There was no urgency in her movements, no sign of fatigue. If anything, she looked mildly inconvenienced.

  “Were you two afflicted by the Blight?” she asked.

  Her voice was flat. Clinical. Ashe swallowed and glanced instinctively at Mina before looking back up at her. Lotha’s sharp green eyes followed the motion before stopping.

  She stepped closer as her gaze dropped onto Mina’s left forearm.

  A deep scratch marred the fabric of her uniform, torn through by something with claws that shouldn’t have been that sharp. Fresh red blood seeped from the wound but beneath it, a faint gray discoloration was already spreading, creeping along the veins like rot beneath the skin.

  This affliction is known commonly as the Blight.

  Lotha hummed softly. “Hmm.”

  She crouched slightly, examining it without touching.

  “You’ll be fine,” she said after a moment.

  “Normally, patching it up and letting your body fight it works. If it’s just a scratch.”

  She straightened herself before adding calmly

  “A bite, though? A standard exorcism would be preferable.”

  Mina stared at her. Her mouth fell open. Her eyes went wide.

  “HUH!?” Mina shouted, panic exploding all at once.

  “ARE YOU SERIOUS!? Do you remember two months ago!? I turned into a Blight! A Blight! I DO NOT WANNA BE A BLIGHT AGAIN!!”

  Her voice cracked as the memory resurfaced. Memories of cold skin. Losing control. Hours of darkness before holy light burned the corruption out of her body just in time—before the Blight could fully consume her.

  Ashe flinched beside her, fists clenched. Lotha however, didn’t.

  She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t even look surprised.

  “I said… trust me.”

  Lotha replied evenly, meeting Mina’s terrified gaze without a shred of emotion,

  “It wouldn’t get worse, even for someone like you, your body should be able to fight the affliction better than most people.”

  The rain continued to fall. Blood washed into the road. And somewhere beyond the smoke and chaos, Dungeon 21E, the dungeon that resided in Fort Haden pulsed.

  “Tch…fine!” Lotha clicked her tongue, irritation leaking through for the first time. She let out a slow, frustrated exhale before lowering herself into a crouch beside Mina. Her mace was set down carelessly in the mud with a dull, heavy thud.

  Her knees sank nearly an inch into the soaked road, but she paid it no mind.

  Lotha took Mina’s left forearm in her grip. With her other hand hovering just above the wound, a faint shimmer of golden light flickered into existence. The air itself seemed to tighten.

  A circular sigil formed, thin lines of gold rotating slowly, quietly humming with her sanctified mana. She performs a light exorcism.

  Mina hissed as a warm burn spread across her skin. It wasn’t pleasant but it was nothing compared to the agony she remembered. Nothing like the searing ray of holy light that had once burned the Blight out of her entire body.

  This was controlled and precise.

  The gray discoloration receded, retreating like smoke pulled backward by an unseen wind, until only raw, bleeding skin remained.

  “There,” Lotha said flatly as the light faded.

  “Happy now?”

  Mina blinked. “T-thanks, Lotha…”

  The corruption was gone. The scratch remained but it was just a treatable wound now.

  Lotha released her arm and stood, wiping her hand against her uniform before turning her attention elsewhere. She reached down, grabbed the Heavy Mana capsule with one arm, and slung it over her back as if it weighed little more than a light pack.

  She looked down at the two of them.

  “I’ll carry this,” she said. “Just follow behind.”

  Her gaze flicked briefly to Mina’s arm before turning away from them. Without waiting for a response, Lotha broke into a jog, boots splashing through the mud as she moved back onto the road.

  Mina stared after her for half a second before letting out a shaky breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.

  “…She’s scary,” Mina muttered.

  Ashe nodded silently, already tearing cloth from a spare wrap to bind her arm as they followed after the blood-soaked figure ahead—toward Fort Haden above…

  Minutes passed in a relentless jog.

  Mina and Ashe could barely keep pace with Lotha as the road began to slope upward. Their boots sank into the mud with every step, rain clinging to their clothes and weighing them down. The stench of decay grew thicker the higher they climbed. But at least they were close now.

  On both sides of the road, flashes of combat lit up the forest. Members of the other squads of Division Westerne were already engaged, holding back waves of Blighted undead spilling from the tree lines & from the Fort itself.

  On one side An abnormal corpse burst forward, its claws long and jagged—far sharper than any common Blight. It lunged toward a guild member, who barely ducked beneath its erratic swipes. Twisting on his heel, the man leveled a bladed wand.

  Streaks of pressurized water ripped through the air, striking the creature squarely in the chest. The beams of pressurized water cut the incoming Blight violently as its rotting body collapsed into the mud.

  Elsewhere, steel flashed. A nimble Miarin moved through the shadows of the trees, her entire skin was black except for those remarkable white feline ears of hers & eyebrows. Her skin glistening with rain, twin sabers dancing in a deadly rhythm. Her tail flowed behind her like a banner as she carved clean arcs through clustered undead with dual straight sabers. Limbs fell. Heads rolled. When the last corpse dropped, she straightened with a sharp breath and briefly caught sight of Lotha approaching.

  Was that Squad Five? she noted. And the two grunts trailing behind her.

  Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, the Miarin returned her sharp amber gaze to the incoming horde. The three finally emerged from the forest edge and reached the outer gates of Haden.

  What remained of it, at least.

  Haden was a small Tropico outpost, it was a little more than reinforced stone walls and a few watch towers, with a garrison of about 75 people, it was built for one purpose alone: to contain and regularly venture into Dungeon 21E, a Hardship IV level dungeon with floors reaching deep into sea-level.

  Just three nights ago, the seal meant to contain the Dungeon Maw had failed. No warning. No alarm.

  The Blight had poured out of the Dungeon Maw in the dead of night, catching the garrison asleep. By morning, the outpost had been reduced to a corpse-choked ruin. Only a handful of guards and a single Tropico Guild Officer had survived—barely escaping to report back to the Westerne Division Outpost, near the city of Alpime.

  A few squad members now held positions at the gates.

  Mina recognized them instantly.

  “Lauff… Colt…” she muttered.

  The red-haired dwarf noticed them at the same time, his eyes widening as he spotted the massive capsule strapped to Lotha’s back.

  “Wait! Is that the Heavy Mana Capsule!?” Lauff shouted over the noise of battle within the surrounding treeline.

  “Yes,” Lotha answered without slowing. “Are we too late?”

  Colt—the tall blond with the ever-present kettle hat shook his head.

  “No. Not yet. Seth is still fighting that thing guarding the Dungeon Maw.”

  Lotha’s brows knit together.

  “That one?” she muttered. “Seriously…?”

  There was genuine surprise in her voice, it was subtle but unmistakable. Seth had been around long enough that most enemies shouldn’t have slowed him down anymore.

  Age, perhaps, was finally catching up.

  “U-uhm… The big one?” Mina asked, glancing back at Ashe, who raised an equally confused eyebrow.

  Lauff grimaced. “Yeah. A new type we discovered. It’s about eight feet tall. Heavily armored. And wields a stupidly long heavy sabre.”

  Mina swallowed. As if on cue, the distant clang of steel echoed from deeper within the outpost followed by a shockwave that rattled loose stones from the walls. The Dungeon Maw was close and whatever guarded it was still standing, fighting Seth Valcos, one of the Big 3 of Westerne Division.

  “And where is Harlen?” Lotha asked, her gaze shifting back to the two squad members at the gate. “He’s the one assigned to seal the Dungeon Maw.”

  Colt scratched the back of his head.

  “Oh, him? Eh… probably clearing out the garrison blocks with Trev. The surrounding outpost turned into a full Blighted Nest.”

  Lotha let out a quiet hum. Then, without another word, she turned and shoved the Heavy Mana capsule forward.

  Lauff yelped as the sudden weight slammed into his arms, his bladed wand clattering uselessly into the ground. He staggered, barely managing to keep his footing as the capsule nearly dragged him down with it.

  “Hold onto that,” Lotha said flatly.

  “Give it to Harlen once this operation is finished.”

  She didn’t wait for a response back from Lauff, before she spoke again with command.

  “You two. Let’s go.”

  Mina and Ashe exchanged a glance before quickly falling in behind her as she strode through the battered gates of Fort Haden.

  Behind them as the three of them went in—

  “Man… she’s so mean…” Lauff muttered, setting the Heavy Mana capsule down between his legs and rubbing his sore arms.

  Colt chuckled softly.

  “Don’t sweat it dude. Lotha’s hella powerful.”

  Inside the outpost, the damage was far worse.

  Collapsed roofs. Broken doors. Blight stains creeping along stone walls like veins. The air was thick with smoke and decay.

  Lotha ascended a short flight of stone stairs along the foundation wall, her pace steady, her mace resting easily on her shoulder. Mina and Ashe followed close behind as rainwater trickled down the steps.

  “This will be your thirteenth real combat operation,” Lotha said suddenly.

  “Correct?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Mina replied automatically.

  “I know you’re both still classified as Handlers,”

  Lotha continued. “Not Operators. Not yet.”

  She glanced back briefly.

  “Mina,” she said,

  “You handle yourself well. Your instincts are sharp. Your equipment choices are sound.”

  Mina straightened slightly.

  “As for you, Ashe,” Lotha went on,

  “You did the right thing by not engaging directly.”

  Ashe blinked.

  “You were carrying a priority asset,” she continued evenly.

  “You are not frontline material. That is not an insult. It is a statement of fact.”

  She slowed and turned fully this time, watching his expression carefully.

  “I mean no harm,” Lotha added.

  “But understanding your role keeps people alive.”

  Ashe met her gaze.

  “…No offense taken,”

  he said after a moment. “I understand.”

  Mina nodded beside him.

  Lotha exhaled quietly, an almost satisfied one before she turned forward again.

  “Good,” she said. “Then keep that mindset.”

  Ahead of them, the sounds of clashing steel and warped roars echoed deeper within Fort Haden.

  The Dungeon Maw was near. And the real test had yet to begin.

  Lotha, with Mina and Ashe close behind, reached the baseplate of Fort Haden.

  The moment they crossed into the garrison buildings, the atmosphere changed as the stone corridors swallowed sound unevenly.

  Mina felt her shoulders tense instinctively, fingers flexing as she scanned the shadowed corners ahead. The air smelled wrong of old blood, rot, and something sour that clung to the back of her throat. A handful of Blighted undead emerged from between overturned furniture and collapsed shelves, their red-glazed eyes snapping toward Lotha first.

  Lotha slowed but only for a moment.

  Her gaze swept across them, sharp and clinical. Mina noticed the brief pause, the way Lotha’s attention lingered just long enough to tell what kind of Blight they were.

  Were they dungeon-borne? Or One of our own now turned into a Blight…

  After careful observation, she noted that not one of their own had turned. Without another word, Lotha shifted her pernach onto her side and stepped aside.

  “You two,” she said evenly. “Handle this.”

  Mina felt the weight of that sentence settle into her chest, it was of expectation.

  She passed Lotha without looking back, her daggers remaining in their sheaths as her hands slid instead into her brass knuckles. The familiar click of metal locking into place grounded her. The runes etched into the brass stayed dim, inert, waiting not for a chant or a spell, but for her.

  Ashe moved in tandem, already a half-step behind her, his posture tightening as he raised his palm. Golden hexagons shimmered into existence in the air before him—Simple Magic, but refined. Their edges sharpened subtly, points tapering like blades instead of shields.

  “Mina!” Ashe called.

  She didn’t answer with words. She nodded once.

  The eight Blights staggered forward.

  Ashe exhaled slowly and pushed his mana outward—not violently, not forcefully, but precisely. The room was small, enclosed, perfect for what he was about to do. The Blight wasn’t mindless; that was the trick. Its hivemind was weak, fragmented, stitched together by something ancient and hateful. Ashe slipped his magic into the cracks.

  The undead faltered.

  Heads snapped to empty corners. Claws slashed at nothing. Growls turned uncertain, confused, overlapping as illusions bloomed inside their perception, conjuring phantom threats, false movements, enemies that weren’t there within their vision.

  That was Mina’s cue to cause absolute destruction.

  She surged forward, boots splashing through grimy wooden floorboards as her fist drove into the nearest Blight’s chest. The impact wasn’t loud but the result was. A compressed burst of kinetic force detonated outward, tearing straight through rotting flesh and bone. The corpse folded in on itself and collapsed before it hit the ground.

  Mina didn’t slow down just yet. She twisted, swung again, and the brass knuckles answered her intent instantly. Invisible force ripped through another Blight’s torso, punching clean holes through its frame. Ashe flicked his wrist—one hexagon shot forward, spinning, slicing a lunging arm clean off before embedding itself in the wall. Another slammed flat into a skull, stunning it long enough for Mina to finish the job.

  The room filled with the dull thuds of collapsing bodies before silence took over.

  Mina stood in the center of the chamber, breathing hard, shoulders rising and falling. Ashe lowered his hand as the last of his constructs faded, a small, relieved grin tugging at his lips. She felt it then a quiet, electric thrill in her chest.

  They did that. Together… Mina turned, flashing a grin over her shoulder.

  “So? What d’you think?” she called out, pride bleeding openly into her voice.

  “We’ve been planning that combo for a while now!”

  Lotha watched them for a moment longer than necessary.

  “Hmph,” she said at last. “Not a bad strategy.”

  Mina’s grin widened. Until Lotha continued.

  “You function well as a pair,” Lotha said, her gaze steady.

  “But what happens when you’re separated?”

  The question hung in the air. And this time, Mina didn’t answer right away, neither did Ashe.

  “Consider that question back home,”

  Lotha said, already moving past them without slowing.

  Mina watched her go, lips pulling into a pout almost immediately.

  “Guh… she doesn’t even look impressed,”

  she muttered, crossing her arms with exaggerated frustration.

  “I’m the one who came up with that combo, y’know.” Her boots scuffed against the stone as she sulked forward. Ashe let out a soft chuckle beside her and reached out, patting her shoulder lightly.

  “Heh. Then we’ll just do better next time,” he said.

  Mina huffed. “What’s there to be better at? You know my predicament.”

  She waved the comment off before Ashe could respond, though he fell quiet for a moment anyway, eyes lowering as the weight of her words lingered longer for him than they did for her. The two of them followed Lotha into another stretch of rooms—past what had once been an archive, shelves smashed and scrolls reduced to pulp, and then an equipment room where weapons lay abandoned.

  They stepped over bodies. They were either Blighted corpses. And others—those who hadn’t turned quickly enough to be saved.

  Mina’s stomach tightened.

  For just a heartbeat, the same memory surged up uninvited—eighteen hours of infection, the creeping cold under her skin, the way her thoughts had started slipping sideways. When the chaos was finally contained, she’d been among those struck down by holy light, screaming as the Blight burned its way out of her system. She shook her head sharply, pushing the thought away as her boots kept moving.

  “We might need to assist Seth with whatever he’s fighting,” Lotha said ahead of them. She was staring at a wall, though Mina realized she wasn’t really looking at it at all. “Can you sense it, Ashe?”

  Ashe straightened slightly and nodded. “Y-yeah. I can feel it.” His voice lowered, instinctively cautious. “It’s… pretty big.”

  His vision had already shifted, mana threading through his senses until the world became layered with color and pressure. Beyond the stone and steel, he could see it faintly—a compact but intense orange glow moving with deliberate precision. That was Seth. But beside it loomed something else entirely. A massive presence, heavy and distorted, its aura blooming outward in deep violet waves that made Ashe’s skin prickle.

  I didn’t think it would be that large, he thought.

  Even without seeing it, they could hear it now—the distant ring of steel against steel, the grind of force meeting force, and the low, strained grunts that followed each clash.

  Mina glanced back at Ashe, brow raised. “That bad, huh?”

  She didn’t wait for an answer.

  They entered a long corridor that ran along the side of the fort, tall windows on the right revealing the steep mountainside below, half-shrouded in mist. The hallway itself was a mess—blood smeared across stone, Blight residue clinging to the walls, and mangled remains scattered underfoot.

  “Ugh,” Ashe groaned suddenly. “I stepped on an eyeball.”

  He scraped his heel against the floor with a grimace, flicking off the wet smear. Mina glanced down at the mess and grimaced in sympathy.

  Ahead of them, Lotha continued without comment. Cleared, she noted internally, and kept moving.

  The pressure in the air thickened the farther they went. Mina felt it pressing against her chest, not fear exactly—more like anticipation wound too tight. Ashe’s breathing slowed as he focused, every step drawing them closer to the courtyard where the clash of mana and steel grew louder.

  Seth was out there. And whatever the big thing was, it hadn’t fallen yet.

  Lotha reached a heavy door and swung it open. The stench hit immediately—dense, rotten. The unmistakable scent of the Blight.

  Her jaw tightened. This is too concentrated, she thought. An abnormality turned itself into a nest, most likely, in the lower chambers.

  They could hear fighting below now—shouts echoing up the stairwell, metal ringing sharply, something wet and heavy striking stone.

  Lotha didn’t hesitate.

  She vaulted over the railing at the top of the stairs and dropped cleanly to the bottom, landing with a solid thud before moving on without looking back.

  Mina and Ashe descended more carefully, boots clanging against stone as they followed.

  “Why is this place laid out like a maze?” Ashe muttered, irritation slipping through as they turned yet another corner.

  “That’s how forts work,” Mina replied automatically. “Harder to invade.”

  She paused, glancing down the stairwell ahead.

  “…And yeah,” she added quietly, “she left us behind again.”

  The clash below rang out once more, much more louder this time.