Morning arrived with a crisp breeze, carrying the scent of fresh bread from nearby bakeries and the distant clang of blacksmiths hammering away at their forges. Dawnstead was already alive with movement—merchants setting up their stalls, adventurers preparing for quests, and townsfolk going about their daily routines.
Belle and Kai moved through the bustling streets, weaving past carts and groups of adventurers clad in mismatched armor.
Kai stretched, rolling his shoulders. "Y'know, this is the first time I'm actually registering a party. Feels kinda weird."
Belle glanced at him. "You've been an adventurer for how long now?"
"Couple of years." Kai smirked. "Never saw the need to join a party before. Too much hassle."
Belle raised an eyebrow. "And now?"
Kai shot her a sideways glance before shoving his hands into his pockets. "Guess I'll make an exception."
Belle didn't press further, but a small, knowing smile tugged at her lips.
They reached the Adventurers' Guild, its large wooden doors swinging open to reveal the familiar sight of adventurers gathered in clusters—some checking the quest board, others recounting their latest missions over tankards of ale, even this early in the day. The scent of parchment, ink, and steel filled the air, mingling with the occasional waft of food from the guild's tavern.
As Belle and Kai stepped inside, a few adventurers glanced their way, no doubt remembering the previous day's confrontation with Trinity Blade. Whispers stirred, but neither of them paid attention.
At the reception desk, Alina stood sorting through a stack of paperwork, her usual composed expression never faltering.
As soon as she noticed them approaching, she adjusted her glasses with a knowing look. "Oh? You're here early."
Kai smirked. "Figured we'd get this over with before breakfast."
Alina chuckled. "How responsible of you." She then pulled out a pre-prepared form, tapping a finger on the blank space in the middle. "Let me guess—you're here to register your party?"
Belle nodded. "Yes."
Alina pushed the form toward them. "Everything's in order. All you need now is a party name."
Belle didn't even hesitate. "Obsidian Dawn."
Alina started writing. "Obsidian Dawn. Alright, then." She stamped the parchment with the guild's official seal before looking up at them. "From this moment forward, Obsidian Dawn is officially recognized as a registered party." She smiled. "Congratulations."
Kai crossed his arms. "That was… surprisingly easy."
Alina chuckled, sliding the stamped document into a folder. "Don't get too comfortable. You're just getting started."
Belle exhaled, feeling the weight of the moment settle in. This wasn't just about filling out paperwork. This was the first step toward something bigger—toward carving out their place in the world as adventurers.
Kai nudged her lightly with his elbow. "Well, partner, looks like we're officially in this together."
Belle glanced at him and nodded. "Looks like it."
Their journey as Obsidian Dawn had begun. In fact, the actual strongest party in Dawnstead had just been formed.
Meanwhile, not far away from Dawnstead.
The entrance to the newly discovered dungeon loomed before the Trinity Blade, a massive stone archway carved into the base of a jagged cliffside. Strange runes etched into the surface pulsed with a faint, eerie blue glow, as if reacting to the presence of those who dared to approach. The very air around the entrance felt wrong, thick with something unseen—an unnatural stillness that did not belong in the living world.
A chilling breeze rolled out from the entrance, unnatural and heavy with something unseen.
For most adventurers, this moment would be met with caution. Uncharted dungeons were unpredictable, filled with unknown dangers that could turn even the most experienced parties into nothing more than a tragic story.
But Trinity Blade stood tall, their confidence unshaken.
Garron planted his tower shield firmly into the ground, his broad, muscular frame a wall of absolute defense. His massive broadsword rested easily in his grip, gleaming under the daylight. His presence alone radiated an unspoken promise—he would be the shield that would never break.
Darin adjusted his grip on his staff, rolling his shoulders as he eyed the dungeon entrance with an eager smirk. His black sleeveless combat jacket with flame-like patterns at the edges, fluttered slightly as he shifted his stance. "This place feels different," he mused, his sharp eyes scanning the faint, shifting energy just beyond the threshold. "Not your usual dungeon."
Lena stood slightly behind them, a soft golden aura surrounding her sleek, form-fitting white and navy-blue battle robes.
A few lower-ranked adventurers lingered nearby, whispering among themselves.
"They're going in already?"
"No scouting?"
"They don't need to. It's Trinity Blade. They always clear dungeons fast."
Garron smirked. Good. Let them watch. Let them see what a real party looks like.
He turned to his team, his voice like iron. "This is it. Time to show the guild why we're the strongest."
He lifted his broadsword and slung it over his shoulder. "We clear this in a week. No more, no less."
Darin twirled his staff once, the arcane symbols on its length flaring briefly. "Tch, that's too long. Let's make this quick."
Lena hesitated for just a fraction of a second—then exhaled and nodded.
Without another word, they stepped forward.
The moment Trinity Blade stepped beyond the threshold, a subtle shift rippled through the air.
The temperature dropped.
Not a gradual descent into cold—but an abrupt, unnatural chill that seeped into their bones.
Inside, the dungeon was vast, its stone walls stretching high above them, disappearing into an endless darkness. The glow from the entrance behind them barely reached past a few steps before being devoured by the abyss ahead. Faint blue crystals jutted out from the walls at irregular intervals, casting an eerie luminescence that barely fought off the suffocating shadows.
Despite the open entrance, the space felt isolated, as if the dungeon itself were swallowing every sound. Even the echoes of their boots against the cold stone faded faster than they should have.
Darin clicked his tongue, holding his staff out. A small orb of fire flickered into existence, hovering just above his palm. The warmth was immediate, pushing back the icy air around them.
"This is strange," he muttered, glancing at the flickering flames. "Dungeons usually have a natural ecosystem—mana density shifts, air circulation or something. But this place feels…" He trailed off, eyes narrowing.
Lena tightened her grip on her staff. "Dead."
Garron let out a snort, rolling his shoulders. "It's a dungeon. Doesn't matter how it feels—only that we clear it." He stepped forward, his tower shield raised, his broadsword held at the ready. "Stay alert. Formation."
They moved as a unit, Garron taking the lead, Lena positioned safely behind them, and Darin keeping pace at the center, ready to cast at a moment's notice.
The passage stretched forward, seemingly endless, until the dim glow of crystals revealed a split in the path—two corridors, each leading into separate darkness.
Darin smirked. "Well, what's it gonna be? Left or right?"
Garron didn't hesitate. "Right."
Lena shifted slightly. "Shouldn't we scout first?"
Garron shot her a glance. "No need. If something's waiting for us, we'll deal with it."
Darin chuckled. "Straight into the unknown, huh? I like it."
Without further argument, they advanced into the right passageway.
A gust of cold, stale air greeted them as they stepped further into the dungeon's depths. The stone walls, damp and rough, were lined with glowing blue crystals embedded within the rock. Their faint luminescence cast shifting shadows along the cavern's jagged edges, creating eerie silhouettes that flickered with every movement.
Garron tightened his grip on his tower shield, his keen eyes scanning the darkness ahead. The echo of their footsteps reverberated through the passageway, a stark contrast to the suffocating silence of the dungeon. It was too quiet. Too still.
Then, the silence shattered.
A goblin lunged from the shadows, its grotesque, green-skinned body moving with startling speed. Its jagged dagger, rusted and crusted with dried blood, gleamed under the dim light as it struck toward Garron's exposed side.
CLANG!
The impact rang through the chamber as Garron swung his shield forward with brutal efficiency. The goblin was sent flying backward, its body slamming into the rough stone wall with a sickening crunch. Before it could even let out a scream, Garron's broadsword cleaved through its chest, splitting it open in a single, decisive strike.
The victory was short-lived.
From deeper within the cavern, more guttural cries erupted.
Dozens of goblins poured forth, their beady red eyes gleaming with bloodlust. They scrambled over jagged rocks and leapt from the upper ledges, their crude weapons brandished high. Unlike aimless monsters, they moved with disturbing coordination, surrounding the party in an attempt to overwhelm them.
Darin let out a sharp breath, already preparing his magic. He extended his staff, a swirling orb of fire igniting at its tip.
"Fireball!"
The spell shot forward like a comet, slamming into the center of the goblin horde. A violent explosion erupted, flames roaring as they consumed everything in their path. Screeches of agony filled the cavern as goblins writhed in the inferno, their flesh bubbling before they collapsed into blackened husks. The heat of the flames washed over the party, briefly illuminating the chamber in a blinding orange glow before fading into dying embers.
Yet, not all of them had perished.
A group of goblins charged through the smoke, their bodies partially charred but their ferocity undiminished.
Garron stepped forward, his shield raised. A goblin's club smashed against the metal surface, the force barely causing him to budge. With a swift counter, he shoved forward, throwing the attacker off balance before burying his blade into its chest.
Another came at his flank—too fast.
Before it could land a hit, a brilliant light flared from behind him.
Lena's voice, calm and resolute, rang through the battlefield.
"Blessing of Fortitude."
A golden aura surged around them, washing away fatigue and reinforcing their stamina. Garron felt the magic settle into his limbs—his movements became sharper, faster.
Darin took advantage of the opening. He swung his staff downward, flame ignited at its tip.
"Flamethrower!"
A fiery flame shot through the remaining goblins, their bodies burned before collapsing into smoldering heaps. The cavern fell silent once more.
Darin scoffed, rolling his shoulders. "Hah. Barely even a warm-up."
Garron took a deep breath, lowering his shield as he surveyed the battlefield. "Expected. The first floor is never difficult."
Lena, however, didn't relax. Her fingers were still lightly gripping her staff, her gaze scanning the fallen enemies. A shadow of unease flickered across her face.
"They attacked differently," she murmured, her brows knitting together. "Goblin packs usually have some hesitation, but these… They were relentless. Like something was pushing them."
Darin shrugged. "They're just goblins. Mindless pests."
Garron, on the other hand, didn't dismiss her words so easily. He knew dungeons were unpredictable, and overconfidence led to death.
He gave a small nod. "Stay alert."
With the path cleared, they pressed forward, descending deeper into the dungeon's unknown depths.
The air in the dungeon took on a stifling weight. The smooth stone walls of the first floor gave way to jagged rock formations, making the passage feel more like a natural cave than a structured ruin. Crystals jutted out from the walls, their faint blue glow flickering intermittently, as if struggling to stay lit.
Garron led the way, his heavy boots sending muffled echoes through the cavern. He moved cautiously, his shield raised, eyes scanning every crevice. The first floor had been easy—almost too easy. And now, the silence was unnerving.
No goblins. No sounds of scurrying feet. Nothing.
Lena's grip on her staff tightened. A shiver ran down her spine.
"Something's here," she whispered, eyes flicking to the shadows above.
Then—a rustle.
A whistling sound cut through the air.
Garron's instincts kicked in. He raised his shield.
CLANG!
A volley of crude arrows slammed into the metal surface, deflecting off harmlessly. More rained down from above, embedding into the rocky floor around them.
Darin barely ducked behind Garron in time. "Damn it—an ambush!" he hissed.
From the ledges above, figures emerged.
Kobolds.
Perched along the uneven rock formations, the reptilian creatures peered down with gleaming yellow eyes, their scaly fingers gripping crude bows and spears. Unlike goblins, kobolds were not mindless brutes—they were pack hunters. Cunning. Coordinated.
Darin scowled, gripping his staff. "Kobolds don't rush in. They make you come to them."
Garron's knuckles tightened around his broadsword. "Then we bring them down."
With a single powerful leap, he surged forward. His heavy boots slammed into a rock formation, the sheer force splintering the stone beneath him.
The kobolds above screeched as their foothold collapsed, sending them tumbling down in a flurry of panicked yelps and snapping claws.
Darin wasted no time. Flames ignited in his palm.
"Fireball!"
A swirling mass of fire launched forward, exploding in midair as it collided with two falling kobolds. Their bodies were engulfed in searing flames before they even hit the ground.
The moment the rest landed, Garron was already upon them.
One kobold scrambled to its feet, raising a rusted spear—too slow.
Garron's broadsword cleaved through its scaly chest, cutting deep before the creature even had time to react.
Another lunged from the side. Garron twisted, slamming his shield into its face with a brutal force that sent it skidding across the dungeon floor. Before it could rise, he brought his blade down, ending it instantly.
A third, seeing its packmates fall so quickly, tried to scramble away into the shadows.
Darin smirked.
He thrust his staff forward. "Scorching Lance!"
A concentrated beam of fire pierced through the kobold's back, its flesh sizzling as it let out a choked gasp before collapsing.
The cavern fell silent once more.
Darin exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "Now that was more interesting."
Garron wiped his blade clean, surveying the battlefield. "They were organized," he muttered. "More than usual."
Lena slowly lowered her staff, her brows furrowed. "They weren't just trying to kill us…" she murmured. "They were trying to stall us."
Darin scoffed. "And they failed."
But Garron wasn't convinced. There was something about this dungeon—something unnatural.
Still, he kept his thoughts to himself.
"Let's keep moving," he ordered. "Stay sharp."
With the path cleared again, they pressed onward.
End of Chapter 33