The light above grew dimmer and dimmer as they ventured deeper into the dungeon. What had started as a bright and deceptively warm glow near the entrance, enough to make the pce feel almost welcoming, had gradually faded into a flickering shimmer, barely illuminating the cold stone walls and moss-covered floors.

  That was no accident, but by design.

  The dungeon didn’t want to scare off its prey, so the entrance needed to be inviting, warm enough to soothe the nerves, and bright enough to encourage further exploration. But the deeper they went, the darker it got. Shadows thickened. Comfort faded. While monsters lurked, ready to pounce.

  He knew. Because he had once been among those who waited in the dark.

  Ahead of him were the three young ones. Cedric led, sword drawn, shield tight to his side. Fiora trailed just behind him, crossbow locked and loaded, watchful eyes darting through the shadows, cautious ears straining for the faintest whisper of movement. Lucian was st, murmuring something under his breath. Preparing a spell, probably. Ready to be unleashed at the moment of need.

  For years Noi’ri had trained them, and when at st they stepped beyond the safety of the city walls and truly became adventurers, he didn’t just send them off. He went with them, joining them as a fellow party member. His old friend had asked him to watch over his boy, yes, but that was not the only reason. Truth be told, he wanted to walk by their side, to protect the young pups who had become like family.

  They had asked him to become the party leader, but he declined. He would watch their backs, but the path ahead was theirs to walk. They had to learn everything themselves: how to fight, how to survive, and how to lead. In the end, Cedric took up the mantle. It was rough at first, but now things had come together. Under the young warrior’s leadership, the group moved forward, ready to face whatever the dungeon was going to throw at them. And he stayed behind, ready to catch them if they fell, but never to carry them.

  They came to this town, Daelin, a small settlement in the middle of the Central Pins’ endless forest. Yes, the Central Pins it was called, but one needed to squint really hard to see any pin around here. This was a forsaken pce, where there was nothing but trees and the ruins of a long-dead empire.

  And that was precisely why they were here. Cedric’s mother, in all her maternal wisdom, wanted her precious boy far away from danger. So she picked Daelin, a sleepy, insignificant town where no new dungeons had emerged in the past three hundred years, to send the pups. Noi’ri didn’t really agree with her overprotective instincts, but to be fair, dropping a fresh-faced party into a dungeon would be a good way to get them killed. So this town might be a good pce for the fledglings, where they learned to spread their wings in calm skies before braving the storms. And once they had proven their worth, he would vouch for them himself so that they could have a proper dungeon delve.

  The absence of new dungeons in Daelin for such a long time was not a coincidence. Many suspected that whenever a new dungeon began to stir in this pce, the Dungeon Reavers would come, steal the Core, and vanish without a trace before anyone even realized what was happening. Technically, it was a crime. The gravest one, even. But Daelin was just a small town, politically weak, economically poor, and geographically isoted. The great powers didn’t care what happened in these woods. People looked away; some even benefited from the thefts. And so, the town remained stagnant, and everyone believed that was its fate—forever a backwater, forever forgotten.

  But fate really had a twisted sense of humor.

  Somehow, they stumbled upon a new dungeon on their very first day in Daelin. Yes, a dungeon. The first after three long centuries. By sheer luck, three pups and an old gnoll managed to beat the Reavers to it.

  But was it really the case?

  A suspicion grew at the edges of his mind, telling him that this was no mere chance. That everything happened because someone wanted it to happen. That they were here because someone wanted them to be here. They were not really forging their own path, but merely following a script written by another.

  Also, this dungeon was strange.

  It grew too fast, and it changed too fast. Walls shifted, and corridors reformed. But worst of all, the monsters here fought with tactics, not mindless instinct, and they seemed to learn from every skirmish. It was as if there were a living, breathing thing behind pulling the strings.

  People said Dungeon Cores were born from human souls, forged by the gods. Interesting stories, but they were just that—stories. The Cores might possess some form of intelligence, but they were cold, mechanical, and extremely slow. He knew because he had served one himself. It summoned him to this world and assigned him to his post. But after that, he was on his own: defend the pce, kill the intruders, or die and get repced.

  He could understand why it acted that way. Unlike humans, Dungeon Cores lived forever. Their greatest weapon was not their walls, their traps, their monsters, but their patience. It didn’t matter if they reached their goals in ten years, a hundred, or a thousand. They could bide their time, watching generations come and go, waiting for the perfect moment.

  But this one was different.

  He could smell its impatience in the air. This Core had a goal, and it wanted it done fast. What that goal was, though, he had no idea.

  When Isadora showed up in Daelin as the new Guildmaster, Noi’ri had pulled her aside and voiced his concerns. It had not been easy. She was a mother, after all, and the kind who would burn down a town if it meant keeping her son safe. So he hesitated. He feared that telling her could make her do something rash, like immediately sending the pups back to Beryn, which would undoubtedly crush their hearts. But in the end, he told her anyway, because he had decided that their safety was more important. Maybe he was the overprotective one now.

  Thankfully, Isadora hadn’t overreacted. Perhaps she had understood that they were no longer children. If she pushed them too hard, they might push back harder. They could rebel. They could try to flee to somewhere out of her reach, and in the process, run straight into a danger she couldn’t shield them from.

  But she also had some unsettling news of her own to share.

  When she tried to apply for the Guildmaster position, she had faced overwhelming pressure to step aside. Clearly, someone very powerful and influential wanted this town, or more precisely, this dungeon. And they wanted it badly enough to murder the previous Guildmaster just for standing in their way.

  Of course, Isadora, being Isadora, didn’t back down just because someone told her so. She had exhausted her savings, her gravitas, everything she had accumuted over a lifetime, all just to be here, to stand beside her son, even if it meant she might have made a very powerful enemy.

  Still, she doubted that the ones who were behind all this would give up easily after one setback. So that was the pn now. She would dig into who was pulling the strings, while he kept watching the pups, both inside and outside of the dungeon. And if the day came when real danger revealed itself to Cedric and the others, they would drag them out of Daelin immediately, by force if necessary.

  “Are we close to the stairs to the second floor?” Cedric asked, his tone edged with impatience.

  “Getting there,” Fiora replied. “Why?”

  “I want to fight another Cyclops.”

  “Cocky now, are you? You do realize how close the st fight was? The next time, we might not be lucky.”

  “Besides,” Lucian said. “I heard the Cyclopes have disappeared from the second floor.”

  “Then we’ll go to the third floor,” Cedric said without any hesitation, “and challenge the Crocodilian.”

  Fiora and Lucian turned on him instantly. “Are you crazy?” they shouted in unison.

  Noi’ri had heard about it. Lately, Cedric had been chatting with a Gold-ranked adventurer, and for some reason, he had the brilliant idea of inviting the man to join his merry little band of three Iron-ranked nobodies. Of course, the Gold ughed him off. Now the boy was doing the next best thing: trying to impress him. Doing something brave, doing something stupid.

  Typical young warrior behavior, eager and reckless. Noi’ri recognized it instantly, because he had been that idiot once himself. Heck, he had done the exact same thing, pulling some stupid stunts just to impress someone, which was how he ended up in this world in the first pce. So he knew that he couldn’t teach pups like Cedric by lecturing them, but by letting reality do the talking. So he kept his mouth shut and let the boy dig his own hole. When it got too deep, he would step in, but until then, the young one could swing his sword at monsters too big for him, and learn the hard way.

  A sharp, unmistakable scent hit him, and he came to an abrupt halt. Lucian gnced back, raising an eyebrow. “What’s wrong, Noi’ri?”

  He didn’t answer. His body tightened, muscles coiling like a spring as he braced himself. Physically, and mentally. He knew it was only a matter of time. He knew this moment would inevitably come.

  Well, it would be another lesson for the pups.

  “Something’s coming,” Fiora whispered. The girl’s ears were good, as always. But his nose was better.

  From the shadows of the corridor ahead, four figures emerged. Backs hunched, heads shaped like hyenas, their silhouettes were instantly recognizable.

  “They’re…” the young ones gasped, breath catching in their throats.

  “My kind,” Noi’ri said, moving to the front, his fingers closing around the hilt of his bde.