Chương 118: Chapter 17: The King's Seal - Part II

Kaelen POV By the time I reach the Adventurer's Guild, Fallowspire has already settled into the familiar rhythm of another morning. Carts rumble over the stone streets, merchants call to passing customers from their stalls and the steady movement of people through the city makes it difficult to believe that anything could be different from yesterday. Perhaps that is why I have always liked this part of the day.

The world feels uncomplicated when everyone is busy with things that have nothing to do with me, and I can walk through the streets without feeling as though every pair of eyes is measuring what I have become since arriving in Fallowspire. Gale pads along beside me, his paws making almost no sound against the stone as he moves through the crowd.

He has grown considerably since the day I first found him, and although he is still young enough that some people glance twice when they see him, there is little left of the tiny creature that once fit comfortably beneath one arm. His mane has thickened around his neck; his legs have lengthened and there is already a quiet confidence in the way he moves that makes it difficult to remember that the appraisal stone had called him a juvenile.

The Guild is as busy as I expect it to be when I step through the doors, with adventurers gathered around tables, clerks moving between the counters and the familiar mixture of conversation and laughter filling the hall. I have spent enough time here now that the noise no longer feels foreign, and I barely have time to look around before Darran notices me from behind the main counter. He raises one hand, signaling for me to come over, and I make my way through the crowd with Gale following close behind.

"You took your time." I stop in front of him.

"I wasn't aware you were waiting for me."

"I wasn't," he says, though the slight smile on his face suggests otherwise. He reaches beneath the counter and pulls out a folded document before placing it between us.

"Your promotion has been approved." I look down at the paper, "For Iron?" He nods, "For Iron." For a moment, I simply stare at the document. I had expected the approval eventually, especially after Darran told me he would make the recommendation himself, but seeing the Guild's seal pressed into the parchment still makes the moment feel more significant than I expected.

I pick it up and unfold it carefully, finding my name written above the new rank and the accompanying details that officially place me among the Iron adventurers of Fallowspire.

"So that's it?" Darran raises an eyebrow.

"Were you expecting trumpets?"

"I wasn't sure."

"You'll have to settle for ink and a stamp." I fold the document again, unable to keep the faint smile from my face.

"I suppose I can live with that."

"You'd be surprised how many people would have celebrated far more enthusiastically."

"I've never cared much for celebrations."

"I know." He takes the document back only long enough to mark something in the Guild's records before returning it to me. I slip it inside my coat and look back toward him.

"So, what changes?"

"Your access, mostly," Darran says as he leans against the counter.

"You can now accept Iron-ranked contracts, which means better rewards and considerably more dangerous work, although I suspect the second part isn't going to discourage you. You'll also have access to information and opportunities that aren't normally available to Copper adventurers, including Iron-ranked dungeons." That catches my attention.

"Dungeons?" Darran notices the change in my expression and gives me an amused look.

"That is the first thing I've said that actually interested you."

"I've never been inside one."

"Really? Now that is surprising." The answer makes me wonder how many times he has heard that sentence from newly promoted adventurers. I rest one hand against the counter and consider the possibility for a moment before asking, "Is there a dungeon near Fallowspire?"

"There is." His answer comes quickly enough that I look at him, "How close?"

"Close enough that the Guild keeps a standing record of its entrances, known creatures and mapped sections." I wait for him to continue, but when he doesn't, I ask, "And it's an Iron dungeon?"

"Parts of it are." He pulls another parchment from beneath the counter and spreads it across the surface between us. The map is rough, marked with several routes and symbols that I don't recognize, and I lean closer as he traces one of the paths with his finger.

"The dungeon is called Stormhollow. No one knows its original name, assuming it ever had one. The upper sections are relatively well explored, but the deeper passages become increasingly dangerous, and the Guild hasn't managed to map everything beyond the Iron sections."

"What lives there?"

"Several species, but one of them is the reason most adventurers remember the place." His finger stops over one of the marked areas, "Stormfangs." I look at the name for a moment before looking back at him.

"Magical beasts?"

"Yes, and they're not simply stronger versions of ordinary animals." His expression becomes more serious as he continues.

"Stormfangs can generate lightning through their bodies, and the older ones have developed ways of using it deliberately rather than relying on instinct alone. Some can discharge it through their attacks, while others use it to strengthen their bodies or strike from a distance."

"That sounds suspiciously close to skills."

"Something like that." Darran taps the map lightly.

"Magical beasts don't all fight the same way, Kaelen. Some rely almost entirely on their physical abilities, while others develop techniques that make their affinity part of how they hunt. Stormfangs are particularly dangerous because their lightning can become unpredictable once they begin using it deliberately." I study the map again, and the description immediately makes me more interested rather than less.

I have spent enough time fighting creatures in forests and open ground to understand how much an environment can influence a battle, but a dungeon offers something I have never experienced before. The creatures know the tunnels, the darkness and the terrain better than I do, and if these Stormfangs can actually wield lightning rather than simply possessing an affinity toward it, they will force me to fight differently.

"How deep would I need to go to find them?" Darran looks at me for a moment before answering.

"That depends on how lucky you are."

"Lucky?"

"You could find one in the upper sections, although the stronger specimens tend to stay deeper. The Guild's records aren't complete enough for me to promise you anything." I nod slowly, "Then I suppose I'll have to see for myself." Darran sighs, "I was afraid you were going to say that." I fold the map and take it from him, but before I can put it away, his eyes move toward Gale, "You're taking him with you." It isn't a question, "Yes."

"You know magical beasts behave differently inside dungeons."

"I've heard."

"They can be drawn toward the mana concentrations, and some dungeon creatures are territorial enough to attack anything they don't recognize. If he gets separated from you, you may have more trouble finding him than you would expect." I glance down at him. Gale is sitting beside my leg, watching the room with an attentiveness that suggests he has been listening to the entire conversation despite understanding none of the words.

"His name is Gale and he won't wander." Darran looks at the cub for another moment before returning his attention to me.

"You seem very certain about that."

"He has followed me this far."

"That's not the same thing."

"No," I admit, "but I don't think he'll leave me." Darran studies me for a moment, then gives a small shrug.

"Just don't assume being his companion makes either of you safer. A dungeon is not the forest outside the city."

"I know." His expression tells me that he isn't entirely convinced. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

"You've survived things that would have killed most Copper adventurers," he says, lowering his voice slightly so that the words don't carry beyond the counter.

"The Rask colony, the bandits and the Veyrakh are proof enough of that, but a dungeon is different. The creatures are confined, the terrain is unfamiliar and you don't always have the option of simply walking away when something goes wrong." I rest my hand against the map, "Then I'll be careful."

"You'd better be." There is no accusation in his voice this time, only concern, and I find myself appreciating it more than I expected. Darran has never treated me like someone who needs protecting, but he has also never pretended that surviving something once means I cannot die the next time. Perhaps that is why I trust his advice.

"Can I enter today?" His eyebrows rise, "Today?"

"If the dungeon is accessible."

"It is."

"Then I'll go." He shakes his head, though there is a faint smile at the corner of his mouth.

"You really don't waste much time, do you?"

"I've spent enough time recovering." The words leave my mouth before I can think about them, and for a moment neither of us says anything. My eyes drop toward my hands as I remember the way they had once moved through a forest without hesitation, how naturally mana had once answered when I reached for it and how much effort it had taken simply to feel like myself again after Elarion. Darran doesn't press the subject. Instead, he taps the map once more, "Stay within the sections marked for Iron adventurers.

If you encounter something beyond that, don't assume your rank gives you permission to fight it."

"I won't."

"And if you find yourself running low on mana?"

"I leave."

"If you're injured?"

"I leave."

"If Gale is injured?" I look down at the cub, "Then I leave immediately." Darran nods, "Good." I tuck the map inside my coat and turn toward the Guild entrance. Gale rises at the same time and falls into step beside me without needing to be called, and I find myself glancing down at him as we cross the hall. Stormfangs, lightning-wielding magical beasts. For the first time since the appraisal, I find myself wondering whether the dungeon might offer Gale something as well.

His primary affinity is wind, his secondary is lightning, and his special affinity has yet to emerge. Perhaps encountering creatures with lightning within their bodies will teach us something about what he might eventually become. I push the thought aside as we step back into the morning streets. Whatever happens inside Stormhollow, I will not go there expecting answers. I will go there to hunt.

The entrance to Stormhollow lies beneath a low ridge beyond the eastern road, where the ground rises sharply enough to conceal the opening from anyone who isn't specifically looking for it. By the time Gale and I reach the mouth of the dungeon, the sun has climbed well above the horizon, though very little of its warmth reaches the narrow stone passage leading underground.

Two old pillars stand on either side of the entrance, their surfaces worn smooth by years of weather and countless adventurers passing between them, while faded Guild markings warn those entering that the deeper sections remain unexplored. I pause beneath the stone arch and look back toward Fallowspire. From this distance, the city rises beyond the surrounding hills in a familiar collection of walls, towers and rooftops, with only the tallest structures visible above the ridge.

It is strange to think that something like Stormhollow lies so close to the city, hidden beneath the earth while people above continue with their ordinary lives, most of them unaware that magical creatures occupy the darkness below their feet. Gale seems considerably less interested in the view, however, and after sniffing the air for several moments, he steps into the entrance with his ears raised and his attention fixed on whatever lies beyond. I follow him inside.

The change from sunlight to darkness is immediate, and for several moments I have to let my eyes adjust before the faint glow of the mana crystals embedded along the walls becomes enough to guide me. The passage slopes gradually downward, with damp stone beneath my boots and roots pushing through cracks in the walls where the earth above has slowly reclaimed parts of the old structure.

The further we go, the more distant the sounds of Fallowspire become until there is nothing left but the quiet scrape of our footsteps and the occasional drop of water falling somewhere beyond the reach of the crystals' pale light. I have barely begun to settle into the silence when Gale stops. I stop with him. His head turns toward one of the passages branching from the chamber ahead, and I feel the change in the air a moment later.

There is a faint metallic scent beneath the dampness, along with something else that I recognize only after the first spark of blue-white light flickers briefly in the darkness. Lightning. I draw my sword as a large shape steps into the chamber. The creature resembles a wolf at first glance, although it is considerably larger than any ordinary wolf I have encountered, with a lean body covered in silver-grey fur and eyes that reflect the faint mana light surrounding us.

Thin threads of electricity move beneath its skin, travelling from its shoulders down toward its forelegs before disappearing beneath the fur, and every few moments a spark jumps between its teeth when it bares them at us.

"So, you're a Stormfang." The creature lowers its head. The moment its muscles tense, I shift my weight and it lunges. I move to the side rather than meeting the charge directly, and the Stormfang passes close enough that I feel the pressure of its movement against my coat. My sword follows the motion, cutting across its flank as it passes, but the moment the blade touches its body, electricity surges through the metal and into my hand.

The shock isn't strong enough to force me to release the weapon, but my fingers immediately go numb, and I pull away before the creature can turn on me. The Stormfang pivots with surprising speed. Lightning gathers between its jaws. I throw up my hand and draw upon the earth beneath us, forcing a wall of stone from the floor just as the creature releases the charge.

The bolt strikes the barrier with enough force to crack it from top to bottom, sending fragments across the chamber, but the stone absorbs enough of the impact for me to remain standing behind it. Gale is already moving. He darts around the edge of the collapsing barrier and closes on the Stormfang before it can recover, wind gathering around his claws as he strikes its hind leg. The creature stumbles, and I use the opening to step through the broken barrier and drive my sword beneath its jaw.

The Stormfang collapses. For several seconds, the chamber is silent except for my breathing and the faint crackle of electricity fading from the corpse. I look down at my hand. My fingers are still tingling.

"So that's what Darran meant." Gale approaches the body and lowers his head to sniff it, but I reach down and gently catch him by the mane before he can do anything more.

"Don't." He looks up at me, "We don't know what its mana might do to you. Also, since when can you do it?" He watches the corpse for another moment before finally stepping away, unaware of my question and I can't help wondering whether I would have been quite as cautious if Lorcan hadn't spent so much time explaining the dangers of beaststone assimilation to me.

The creature itself is already proof that magical beasts can do more than simply possess greater strength than ordinary animals, and the lightning it used was not some passive trait of its body. It had gathered the mana deliberately, shaped it and turned it into an attack. That makes the dungeon considerably more interesting than I expected. We continue deeper. The first few chambers are relatively quiet, although the further we descend, the more frequently we encounter creatures.

Some are little more than larger versions of beasts I recognize from the wild, with greater strength and mana reinforcing their bodies, while others possess abilities that make them considerably more difficult to predict.

One Stormfang attempts to circle behind me before releasing a bolt through the stone beneath my feet, forcing me to leap aside rather than simply block the attack, while another uses bursts of lightning through its legs to accelerate its movements so suddenly that I barely have time to react when it closes the distance. Gale becomes more useful with every encounter.

His wind affinity gives him a natural advantage in the narrow passages, allowing him to change direction quickly and strike from angles that would be difficult for a larger creature to anticipate. I find myself relying on him more than I initially intended, not because I need him to protect me, but because the way he moves gives me opportunities I wouldn't have on my own.

When he tears into a creature's hind leg and throws it off balance, I am already moving into the opening before I consciously think about it, and when I force one toward him, he seems to understand what I want without needing to be told. The deeper we go, the more I begin to feel the strain. Mana recovery has improved considerably since I first arrived in Fallowspire, but that doesn't mean my reserves are limitless, and the repeated use of earth magic is beginning to weigh on me.

My muscles ache beneath my clothes, my breathing has become heavier and the familiar pressure in my channels tells me that I should start thinking about returning before exhaustion turns into something more dangerous. I stop in another chamber and lean against the wall while Gale settles beside me, "We've been here long enough." He looks toward the passage ahead. I follow his gaze. There is no reason to continue. There is also no reason to turn back yet. That second thought wins.

I push myself away from the wall and continue but the creatures become stronger after that. The next Stormfang is larger than the first, with darker fur and considerably more mana running through its body. It doesn't attack immediately when we enter its chamber, instead watching us from across the darkness while electricity crawls slowly across its shoulders.

I can feel the pressure of its mana even from where I stand, and for the first time since entering Stormhollow, I understand why Darran had warned me not to assume that an Iron rank meant I could handle everything the dungeon had to offer. The Stormfang moves before I do. I bring my sword up as it closes the distance, but its first strike carries enough force to drive me backward several steps. I redirect the second rather than meeting it head-on, then use the opening to send a wave of earth across the floor.

The stone catches its forelegs and disrupts its balance, giving Gale enough time to rush in from the side. Wind erupts around his claws. The Stormfang twists away from him, but not quickly enough. Gale tears across its shoulder, and I step forward at the same time, driving my sword into its chest. Lightning explodes through the blade. Pain races up my arm. I grit my teeth and hold on, forcing mana through my body until the current finally dissipates. When I pull the sword free, the creature collapses at my feet.

I remain standing for a moment longer than necessary before lowering myself against the nearest wall. Gale walks over and presses his head against my leg. I run a hand through his mane.

"You've become rather troublesome." His tail moves slowly across the floor. I smile, "That's not a compliment." He doesn't seem particularly concerned. I close my eyes for a few moments, allowing my breathing to settle before finally opening them again. The chamber is quiet now, but I can feel the weight of the dungeon around us more clearly than before. The mana is denser here, almost tangible against my skin, and the air carries the faint electrical charge that has become familiar since we began descending.

I should leave. This time, I listen to that thought. I push myself upright and look toward the corpse. Something beneath it catches the light. A faint blue glow. I crouch and move the body aside, revealing a dark, translucent stone lying between its ribs. A thin thread of lightning moves slowly through its center, disappearing beneath the surface before emerging again a moment later. A beaststone. I stare at it for several seconds. Then I look at Gale. His eyes are already fixed on the stone.

The memory of the Veyrakh returns immediately, along with Lorcan's warning about what happens when magical beasts consume beaststones and absorb the mana contained within them. Gale's appraisal had already revealed a high wind affinity and a lower lightning affinity, and the stone in front of me carries exactly the kind of mana that could strengthen one of those traits. But I still don't know what that would mean. It could accelerate his growth. It could strengthen his lightning affinity.

It could alter the way his existing affinities interact or it could produce consequences neither Lorcan nor I have considered. I reach down and pick up the stone. Mana pulses through my fingers. Gale takes a step toward me. I close my hand around the beaststone before he can reach it.

"Not yet." He looks at me, "I need to think." For once, he doesn't try to argue. I slip the stone into a small pouch at my belt and rise slowly, feeling the exhaustion settle over me again, now that the fight has ended. We have been underground long enough, and whatever lies deeper into Stormhollow can wait for another day. I turn toward the passage we came through, and Gale falls into step beside me without hesitation. We make it only a few dozen steps before I hear something.

At first, I mistake it for the distant rumble of stone shifting somewhere deeper in the dungeon, but the sound comes again, lower this time, carrying through the tunnels with enough force that I feel the vibration beneath my feet. Gale stops and I stop with him. Neither of us moves. The sound comes a third time. It isn't the howl of a Stormfang.

Whatever made it is deeper inside Stormhollow, and judging by the way the stone itself seems to tremble beneath my boots, it is considerably larger than anything we have encountered so far. I look toward the darkness behind us. Then toward the tunnel leading back to the surface. The sensible choice is obvious. I turn toward the entrance.

"We're going home." Gale follows, but neither of us looks back again.