Inside the dungeon
A group of people could be seen resting around a small campfire. The warm glow lit up their tired faces. There were four women and ten men in the group. Among the men, five were wearing golden armor, their presence giving off the aura of generals or high-ranking knights.
The other five men wore different outfits. One of them stood out in a dark green outfit that looked like a rare-grade item, clearly valuable and unique. Two others wore blue scale armor and carried large greatswords on their backs. The last two were dressed in mage robes, their staffs resting beside them, faint magical glows still lingering around their gear.
The two women were wearing matching outfits—long, white robes that looked clean and elegant. Each of them held a magic book close to their chest. Just from their appearance alone, anyone could tell they were healers.
Another woman wore a black cloak, her face mostly hidden under the hood. Sitting quietly beside her was a beast that looked like a tiger, its fur dark and eyes glowing faintly. It watched the group carefully, like a silent guardian.
The last woman stood out the most. She wore fitted red scale armor that wrapped around her body perfectly, showing off her curves and the two mountains on her chest. Her long hair flowed down like silk, and her beauty was like that of a goddess from Altheria's myths. Floating around her head was something like a crown—but it was thin and elegant, shaped like twisting vines and blooming petals, glowing softly in a crimson hue. At her waist rested a sheathed sword—Lunefleur, a legendary weapon said to have bloomed from the blood of a fallen moon goddess. The hilt shimmered with silver and red threads, and just being near it gave off a faint pressure, as if the sword itself had a will. She was Seris Valtair, the Blooming Tempest.
Seris Valtair sat quietly on a flat stone, her eyes half-closed like she was lost in thought. The beast beside the cloaked woman let out a soft growl, but it was calm. Suddenly, a sharp caw echoed through the cavern.
A crow, its wings dark as night, flew toward them and circled once before landing gracefully in front of Seris. Tied to its leg was a letter sealed with the Valtair family crest. The group grew silent.
Seris reached for the letter without a word, untied it, and opened it. As her eyes scanned the paper, her fingers began to tremble slightly.
The message was short.
"To Lady Seris Valtair,
The Valtair estate at the western frontier has been attacked. The ones responsible are men from the Veridane family. One of the maids managed to escape and send this message. Before she fled, she saw several knights stabbing your younger brother. The boy was described as thin, with long black hair. It matched the young master's appearance. We don't know if he survived. Forgive me for delivering such news."
The paper slowly lowered from her hand. Her eyes, usually calm like a lake, began to shake. Her heart pounded like thunder. "Lucien..." she whispered, her voice cracking.
The healers looked at each other in confusion. The woman in the black cloak frowned. Even the beast at her side sat upright, sensing something was wrong. Then, without warning.
*BOOM.
An enormous aura exploded from Seris's body. The ground cracked beneath her feet. Dust and pebbles flew into the air. The campfire flickered wildly before dying down. Everyone froze.
The woman who always carried herself like a blooming flower now stood like a storm about to destroy everything. Her eyes were glowing red like her crown of vines, petals flaring around her like they were alive.
"She loved him more than she ever let show," one of the knights whispered to himself.
Seris didn't say anything. She just stood there, staring into the distance—where the west was—where her little brother was. And in that silence, they all understood. There would be no mercy for the ones who dared touch her family.
As Seris turned around and began walking toward the dark tunnel, the red aura still surging from her body, one of the golden-armored generals stepped forward and called out. "Seris, wait!"
She stopped, not turning yet.
Another spoke, the man in the dark green outfit. "If you go now, it'll take 15 days to return. We're on the 16th floor. You know how far that is."
She clenched her fists.
The woman in the black cloak stepped forward too, her beast growling low beside her. "But if we finish this dungeon—reach the 20th floor—there's a gate. You can use it to return in 4 days."
Then the one with the blue scale armor added, "We'll help you clear it fast. No one will be left behind."
The woman in red scale armor slowly turned to face them. Her voice was steady, but there was a storm in her tone. "And after?"
The mage with white hair answered, "After we leave... we head to the Veridane main estate. Together. We'll speak to them."
"No," Seris said, her voice sharp.
Everyone stiffened.
"We won't speak." She looked up. Her red crown pulsed. "We'll make them kneel."
Inside lucien tent, the only light came from a small lamp beside him. The pages of the ancient book glowed faintly with a silver hue, humming like a song only Lucien could hear. He sat cross-legged, his eyes calmly scanning every line of the spell inscriptions written in an elegant, flowing script.
"Astral Aria… Canticle of the Silent Realms," he whispered.
As he read, something clicked in his mind, a silent resonance that matched his aura's frequency. He could feel it: the wind, the void, the silence between realms. The first technique whispered to him.
"Voidwind Passage," Lucien muttered, closing his eyes.
He slowly stood up, holding his breath as his aura shifted. The air around him grew still. Then—he vanished.
In an instant, Lucien appeared outside the main kingdom gate of the western frontier. The night was quiet, the capital lights glowing in the distance. His feet touched the ground with no sound at all. It felt like his body had ridden on silence itself.
"…Incredible," he said, calmly looking around. "A teleportation-type movement with no sound trail. Useful for travel—and assassination."
After a few seconds, his aura pulsed again, and just like that, he vanished once more.
He reappeared right outside his tent. No one had seen it. Not even the guards stationed nearby noticed a thing. Lucien stepped back inside like nothing happened, eyes unreadable.
He sat back down, placed his hand over the book again, and exhaled softly. "One technique down. Three more to learn."