The morning sky was painted in hues of gold and lavender as the sun began to rise from behind the horizon. The first rays of light crept over the crest of the large hill, almost a small mountain, that Isaac, Artist, and spunk, who sat atop to Isaac shoulder, began to summit.

  Their breaths came in small puffs of mist in the cool morning air, and as they reached the top, they paused to take in the view.

  From their vantage point on the hill, the city revealed its unique structure.

  Split into two distinct sections, each with its own personality and rhythm.

  On one side lay the open coastal portion of the city, sprawling along the shoreline. The low-rise buildings and vibrant markets stretched out like veins, bustling with life even in the early morning.

  Boats dotted the sparkling blue waters near the coast, their sails catching the light as merchants and fishermen moved in and out of the harbor. The salty breeze carried the sounds of distant shouts, the clatter of market stalls, and the cry of seagulls.

  The coastal section had a warm, welcoming air, lively yet grounded, with narrow streets lined with shops and inns, where locals and visitors alike mingled in the sun.

  Beyond the coastal part of Aureus, further out on the sea, was the larger portion of the city, the City atop the Sea, carved into three grand sections that floated like majestic islands in the distance.

  These three sections were interconnected by elegant bridges and waterways, each one distinct in size and purpose. To reach them, one had to board one of the several ferries that moved gracefully across the water, ferrying people from the mainland to the sea-bound parts of the city.

  As the trio stood atop the hill, none of them spoke, each lost in their own thoughts about the city and what it promised—or threatened—to bring.

  Taking a deep breath, Isaac broke the silence, his gaze fixed on the sprawling city below. “No time like the present,” he said, his voice steady as he marched toward the city, his boots crunching against the gravel path.

  Artist smirked, adjusting the bright pink windbreaker.

  “Ever been in a dungeon before?” he said, following after Isaac with a lazy confidence.

  On Isaac’s shoulder, Spunk squealed in excitement, bouncing slightly in place, “No! And where finally in the city! Let’s go!” they cheered, their quills bristling with enthusiasm as their tiny claws gripped Isaac’s shoulder for balance.

  The trio descended the hill together, the rising sun casting long shadows at their backs, as Aureus loomed ever larger on the horizon.

  “I was talking to Isaac.” Artist said through a grin.

  Spunk immediately pouted, crossing their tiny arms. “Well, I didn’t want to talk to you anyway!”

  Isaac let out a chuckle, shrugging as he glanced at Artist. “To answer your question,” he said, his tone thoughtful, “I’ve only ever been on cleanup crews, but from what I’ve seen of the aftermath... we’ve got an ‘exciting’ journey ahead of us.”

  Artist smirked, shaking his head. “Exciting’s one word for it. Let’s just hope we’re the ones doing the cleaning up and not the ones being cleaned up.”

  Spunk let out a series of sad whimpers at Artist’s words, their quills flattening slightly against their small frame. “Why do you have to say stuff like that?” they mumbled, their voice tinged with worry. “I thought this was supposed to be fun.”

  Artist glanced at Spunk, his smirk softening as he raised a hand in mock surrender.

  “Alright, alright. Don’t get your quills in a twist,” he said with a chuckle. “We’ll be fine, Spunk. I’m just saying we should stay on our toes.”

  Isaac reached up to pat Spunk lightly on the head, while shooting a sharp and threatening glare at Artist who threw his hands up in defence.

  “Don’t worry. Between the three of us, we’ve got this,” he said, his voice steady. “Let’s just focus on taking things one step at a time.”

  Spunk sniffled but nodded, their tiny claws gripping Isaac’s shoulder a bit tighter. “Okay… but you guys better keep your promises. No scary stuff!”

  The trio continued their way toward the central entrance of the city, the bustling streets just coming into view beyond the towering gates. The air grew tense, however, as a group of five figures strode purposefully toward them, cutting off their path.

  Each of the figures bore the unmistakable mark of the Kraken Guild—a dark crest emblazoned squarely on their chests, depicting fifteen twisting tentacles sprouting out of the head of a kraken. Their expressions were hard and unreadable, but their eyes gleamed with suspicion as they sized up Isaac and Artist.

  One of the guards, a burly man with a grizzled beard and a scar tracing down his right cheek, stepped forward without hesitation. Making him, at least in Isaac’s mind, the leader of the squad. He tapped the pommel of the sword strapped to his side as he spoke, his voice firm but calm.

  "I am Chalos of the Kraken Guild," he announced, his steely gaze flickering between Isaac and Artist. “Who are you? Given your appearances you two seem like Hunters, guileless at that…are you here to register for the upcoming dungeon raid as honorary members?"

  Before Isaac or Artist could even think of a response, two female hunters from the group, who had been murmuring amongst themselves, suddenly pushed forward. The force of their movement caught Chalos off guard, sending him stumbling back with a small, undignified yelp.

  The tense atmosphere shattered like glass.

  The first woman, a tall hunter with fierce eyes, a braid swinging over one shoulder, and a axe hanging off her hip, strode directly toward Artist. Her lips curled into a sly grin as she sized him up.

  "You’ve got troublemaker written all over you," she said bluntly, tapping his chest with a gloved finger. "I like that. Drinks before the raid?"

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  The second woman, shorter but radiating an undeniable confidence, set her sights squarely on Isaac. Her expression was one of frank appraisal, like she was inspecting a rare artifact. "You’re the strong and silent type, huh?" she declared with a satisfied nod. "Exactly my type. How about dinner before we enter the dungeon? You never know, we might not ever see each other again.”

  Chalos sputtered from behind them, thoroughly flustered. "Rika! Leira! We're on duty, not speed dating!"

  Artist blinked, stunned into rare silence. Isaac looked equally dumbfounded, his usual composure momentarily slipping.

  Spunk, perched on Isaac's shoulder, let out a delighted silent squeal that only Isaac could hear. "Oh! This is fun!"

  Isaac’s mind raced as he struggled to regain his composure, trying to look on the bright side of the situation.

  “This is new... but honestly, they could speed this whole getting to the dungeon thing along if we play along. Plus, they aren't half bad.”

  A plan began forming in his head, each step snapping into place with military precision.

  “We charm them, gain their trust, cut through the red tape, and get straight to the raid. Easy.”

  But before he could set anything in motion, Artist—naturally—opened his mouth.

  “Step back, lil’ bitch,” he said, with the audacity of someone who’d never seen a bad consequence in his life.

  The air went still. Rika blinked, clearly caught off guard, while Chalos sputtered in disbelief.

  Isaac’s face went blank as his entire plan burned to ash in an instant, before he shot Artist a look that promised severe consequences later.

  Rika blinked, clearly caught off guard, her brow furrowing as realization dawned and her fist balled, muscles tensing. "What did you just say?"

  Chalos's jaw dropped, his face caught between shock and disbelief.

  Before she could deliver a blow, Chalos let out a panicked yelp and lunged between them, grabbing Rika by the arm and wrestling her back.

  “Rika, no!” Chalos wheezed, barely holding her in place. “We don’t attack allies!”

  “You sure?” Rika asked through gritted teeth, still eyeing Artist with murderous intent.

  Artist, completely unfazed, smirked. “Feisty. Now, that I like.”

  Rika’s eyes blazed with fury. “Feisty? I’ll show you feisty! You’re dea—”

  Before she could finish, Chalos, now fully red-faced, along with the other men who had just regained their senses, grabbed her arms and started dragging her back. Rika let out a fierce yell, thrashing against them. “Let me go! I just want to talk with him—with my fists!”

  Isaac groaned under his breath. "I don't know why I put up with you."

  Spunk giggling, clearly amused.

  “You can let it out later during the celebrations before the raid,” Chalos grunted, holding her back. “Not now, Rika.”

  Rika snarled but was dragged away, her protests fading as she was pulled out of earshot.

  Chalos turned back to the group and motioned sharply for Leira to step forward. "Leira, come here. We need to focus. No distractions."

  Leira shot one last lingering look at Isaac, clearly disappointed, and sighed heavily. “Fine, fine,” she muttered, before slowly leaving Isaac’s side to stand by Chalos. “But you owe me, you know.”

  “And, why’s that?” Chalos questioned.

  Leira smirked, crossing her arms. “Because my man didn’t seem to mind much.” She shot Isaac a teasing glance, her expression full of mischief.

  Isaac blinked, momentarily stunned. "Your man?"

  Leira gave a small shrug, still looking at him with playful eyes. “Yep. Guess you’ll figure it out sooner or later.”

  Chalos let out a long sigh, rubbing his temples in frustration. “I didn’t think today could get any worse…” He straightened up and gave Artist a quick, apologetic glance. “Anyway, I apologize for her. She gets a bit... carried away. But be careful who you shot that mouth off at”

  Artist simply nodded. “I’ve gathered that much.”

  Isaac, done with the games, straightened up and spoke. “So, Chalos, what are the requirements for joining the raid?”

  In a show of realization, Chalos tapped a balled fist it into the palm of his other hand, in a smooth gesture as he recalled what he and his squad were here for.

  He held up his hand and tapped the air, activating his system window. A faint shimmer appeared in the air as he accessed his inventory. With a small flick of his fingers, he pulled out a scroll, the paper unfurling in front of Isaac and Artist.

  “Read it for yourself, a lot has changed becasue of some dude caliming to have the Phoenix soul running around causing trouble.." He said.

  Isaac’s eyes narrowed slightly at the mention, but he kept his expression neutral as he took the scroll from Chalos. The paper unfurled smoothly in his hands, its surface became covered with golden text that revived itself as he read aloud.

  "Requirements for the open raid participation: signed waiver, proof of guild affiliation or honorary membership... and—" He paused, glancing up at Chalos. “I assume you’ll be helping with the registration process?”

  Chalos shook his head, his expression serious. "No, I won’t be handling the registration. That’s being done at the Town House."

  Isaac raised an eyebrow. “Town House?”

  Chalos nodded, pointing past the gated coastal city and toward a large building in the center of the three connected islands. “It’s been seized by the guild and is now being used to host the pre-raid feast. It’s also where others who came alone can form smaller groups, to increase survival chances during the raid in two days.”

  He uncrossed his arms and gestured vaguely. “A word bearer or scribe will be there to officially form the groups. They'll also hand out honorary emblems to those who are eligible. The emblems are what’ll mark you as part of the raid. Without one, you won’t be allowed in.”

  Isaac considered this for a moment, his mind ticking over the details. “So, we just head over there, get our emblems, and we’re good to go?”

  Chalos gave a firm nod. “That’s the idea. But remember, you’ll need to have everything in order in the three days remaining. First, though it dosen’t mention it, I’d recommend you be at least level 25 but there’s no restictions, then the waiver, and all that. Once you’re registered, then it’s just a matter of waiting for the raid to begin.”

  Isaac, now with a clearer understanding of the situation, gave a small nod. “Alright. Sounds simple enough. We’ll head over there soon.”

  Nodding his head, Chalos and Leira turned on his heel, preparing to walk away. He waved them off casually. “Dungeon law is in effect for the entire town,” he called over his shoulder, his voice deep and serious.

  Isaac’s eyes widened, a fiery spark igniting in them as the words sank in. His muscles tightened around his bones, anger rising in him.

  Artist, noticing the lost tension in the air seemed to come back, placed a heavy hand on Isaac’s shoulder, wary of dealing with another one of his tantrums given his last memorable experience during their fight with the twelfth division caption, as Spunk—who had gone unnoticed until now spoke up.

  “What’s Dungeon law?” Spunk asked, their voice a small curious whisper.

  Chalos, who had been halfway down the path, slowed in his tracks while Leria contuied on without him.

  His gaze flicked over his shoulder, and when he saw Spunk, his expression shifted into something darker.

  He let out a low, almost mocking laugh.

  "Oh, you don’t know?" Chalos called back, his voice echoing in the silence that followed.

  His tone was aimed at Isaac, as it was clear he hadn’t realized it was Spunk who had asked the question.

  “The Dungeon law allows for special measures in the event of a raid, esspeically those that require outsiders to the guild. It means all laws are temporarily suspended, giving the guild certain privileges that would otherwise be tabboo. This includes complete and total rule over any present cities or settlements, the authority to act quickly, and even immunity from all law enforcement. Which leads to things getting... messy, to put it lightly.” He smirked darkly, the weight of the statement hanging in the air.

  Isaac’s brows furrowed, his hands tensing at his sides.

  “Immunity? So, they can just do whatever they want?” Isaac asked, more for Spunk’s sake but also for Artist, who, he’d guessed, wouldn't have to much knowledge on the subject either.

  Chalos didn’t seem to notice Isaac’s growing frustration as he turned once again to leave, an audible smirk on his face as he called out one last time before leaving the three of them to themsleves.

  “That’s about the gist of it. Don’t worry, though—you’re here to be apart of the raid, right? So as long as you get your affairs in check, you’ll get to join in on the fun!”

  Isaac’s anger simmered, but he chose not to engage further. The coversation was starting to make him feel more tense than he’d like.

  Spunk, sensing the hostility, quickly spoke up again in an attempt to lighten the mood. “That doesn’t sound very fun…”

  Isaac’s thoughts were still racing, but he patted Spunk lightly on the head, trying to stay focused. “No, Spunk. It’s not.”