“I’m starving!” the blonde-haired woman groaned as she collapsed into the seat across the table.

  Viktor peeled the cloth from the ceramic pot, and steam billowed as he lifted the lid. He had made hot stew with the potatoes and carrots his “sister” had bought, along with fresh spinach from their garden. He had also tossed in some pieces of chopped bacon, since the stew would have been very plain without any meat. He didn’t really want to, but there was no other option available in the house.

  “Is it just me, or have you gotten better at cooking?” Claire said as she sniffed at the pot.

  Viktor shrugged. “No, you’re just being hungry, so everything seems better to you.” He set out two bowls and two spoons as he spoke, and then grabbed a ladle to pour the stew into each.

  “No, you definitely have improved,” the woman insisted. “There was always something you forgot. Be it adding salt, or bringing utensils... But now? Everything is perfectly prepared.” She grinned. “Kids grow fast, huh?”

  Viktor recalled the whole week it had taken him to reacquaint himself with domestic tasks he had long forgotten. Years of reigning as an emperor meant he never had to touch those things. Nevertheless, before he became a hegemon and a conqueror, he had been a simple adventurer, and cooking for himself with whatever scraps he found had been one of the essential skills he had learned along the way.

  The last items he brought out were several slices of plain bread. Now their lunch was ready.

  They started eating, and as usual, Claire jabbered on. She inquired about his morning, and soon launched into prattling about her own. Viktor didn’t really care, so he just nodded absently while chewing.

  His gaze swept across the packed mess hall. Adventurers and employees of the Guild had already occupied most of the seats, their chatter a backdrop beneath the clatter of dishes and mugs, while more bodies were pushing in, weaving through the crowd to search for empty spots. He assessed them all, disheveled men and women in worn clothes and crude armor, weapons still slung at their hips, potential food for his dungeon. But the question was: who would be the first?

  “Can I sit here?” a voice said behind him.

  Claire’s face brightened. “Jeanne! Sit, sit.”

  The newcomer slid onto the bench beside Viktor. She pulled out her lunch, which was just two sandwiches wrapped in a cloth, and placed them on the table. His gaze lingered on her hands. Faint burn scars. Pyromancer.

  The woman was in her mid-twenties, with red hair cut short around a heart-shaped face. Her complexion was fair, almost porcelain, dotted with freckles across her nose and cheeks. According to Quinn’s memory, this mage was one of Claire’s acquaintances. Notably, she never missed a chance to complain about her party whenever they met.

  “You look happy,” Claire said. “Something good happened?”

  Jeanne nodded. “I quit,” she declared with a big grin. “I’ve left that damn party.”

  “Took you long enough!” Claire laughed, then lowered her voice to a whisper as she leaned in. “I know an employee of the Guild shouldn’t say something like this about an adventurer behind his back, but Jake is an asshole.”

  “I know, I know,” the other woman agreed. “He’s a bully who extorts money from newcomers. But I have a principle: never leave a party too early. Thus, I gave it a month, hoping things would get better. But they didn’t, so I quit.”

  Normally, Viktor couldn’t care less about their conversation, but there was an interesting implication in what Jeanne had just said. He turned to the pyromancer and asked, “So your party, I mean, your former party, doesn’t have a mage right now?”

  Jeanne shrugged, brushing aside the loose strand of hair that had fallen across her face. “Well, there’s still Petra. But she is an Emerald Mage, so she can’t really do anything in combat.”

  “Petra? The shy girl, right?” Claire asked. “I don’t think she likes being in that party either. Why didn’t she quit with you?”

  The red-haired woman let out a sigh. “I think she owes Jake money. So she’s stuck there until she pays him back.”

  “That’s messed up. She deserves better.”

  “I thought even an Emerald Mage could support their party in a fight with their magic,” Viktor said, steering the conversation toward the parts that actually mattered.

  “You know your stuff, Quinn,” Jeanne said, smiling. “Yes, you’re right. They can cast spells to enhance the physical capabilities of their companions. But Petra hasn’t gotten there yet. All she can do now is to patch up wounds and cure poison.”

  “Who are the other members of the party?”

  “Jake is the leader, and our frontline fighter. I hate to admit this, but he’s actually quite good in his role.”

  Viktor nodded, looking at her attentively.

  “And there’s Hans,” Jeanne continued. “He’s good with knives. And he can move silently and disable traps.”

  So, a warrior, a rogue, and a healer, huh? Viktor chucked. They’re begging for an ambush. By twenty goblins. In the middle of a maze.

  “Do you think Jake could find a replacement for you soon?” he asked.

  Jeanne snorted. “He claimed he would get a new mage by sundown. Good luck with that. Decent mages in this town are rare enough. Decent mages who are willing to work with him? Not a chance.”

  “Why do you seem to care about adventurers a lot today?” Claire interjected, raising an inquisitive eyebrow in Viktor’s direction.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  “Of course he does.” Jeanne laughed. “He’s old enough. Wanting to become an adventurer is perfectly normal at his age.”

  Claire frowned. “No, he’s still too young for that.”

  Viktor knew that the woman did not want her brother to become an adventurer, given what had happened to their parents.

  You don’t have to worry, “sister.” What interests me is something completely different.

  Nevertheless, there were no more questions from him, since he had learned enough. Afterward, the two women continued their chat, while he just focused on finishing his meal.

  Once lunch was over, Jeanne stood up, said her goodbyes, and made her way out of the mess hall. Claire told Viktor to leave the utensils there. “I’ll wash them and bring them back home myself after work,” she said.

  Usually, the afternoon was Quinn’s free time. The boy either returned home to sleep or explored the town. Viktor, on the other hand, had something else on his mind.

  Where’s Jeanne’s former party? Stepping out of the Guild, he looked around, trying to recall their faces. He, meaning Quinn, had seen them a couple of times when they were with the pyromancer, so he figured he would recognize them if they crossed paths.

  The sun had passed its zenith, its light spilling over the crumbling rooftops and pooling into the crooked alleys. Most of the buildings around him were a patchwork of warped timber and crumbling stone, their shutters hanging loose on rusted hinges. Many looked like they had been abandoned, while others leaned forward as if they were on the verge of collapsing on their own.

  The road, on the other hand, was a different story. Daelin’s main thoroughfare, paved with stones that had been laid down a long time ago, and still surprisingly serviceable despite centuries of neglect. It was not built by the townsfolk, obviously. No, this was a relic of the past. A segment of the Imperial Roads, a piece of the Empire’s grandeur, once connecting the capital to the farthest corners of the land. Viktor couldn’t help but smirk as he looked down at it. Something he built three hundred years ago still held up better than this miserable excuse for a settlement.

  The people here looked barely better than the buildings they inhabited. A pair of ragged brats with bare feet and soot-smeared faces playing with sticks, a man arguing with his donkey, an old woman hawking dried fish from a cart that stank of brine and rot. Viktor wrinkled his nose, but he kept walking down the street, scanning the faces of everyone he passed.

  Before long, he spotted the trio gathering near a shop that sold potions and other supplies.

  The tall, muscular man with dark, unkempt hair was Jake, the party leader. He carried a sheathed longsword in his hand and had a shield strapped to his back. Next to him stood Hans, clad entirely in black. A belt loaded with knives wrapped around his waist, each blade glinting in the light. The last member of the group, Petra, was a timid-looking girl with long brown hair, dressed in the unmistakable green robe of her Order. She shifted nervously, her eyes darting between the two men, who appeared to be arguing about something.

  It’s time, Viktor thought, pulling the golden coin from his pocket and holding it in his palm. Then, he strode toward them.

  “...we supposed to do now without Jeanne?”

  He overheard Hans grunting as he casually walked by. Now, all that remained was one single act.

  He tripped.

  Viktor timed his stumble to perfection. The coin clanged against the ground as he fell forward. He quickly sat up, acting like he was frantically searching for something.

  “What the hell is this?”

  He looked up to see Jake holding his coin, the man’s face a mix of shock and confusion. “Where did you find this?”

  “I... I...” Viktor stammered with fabricated fear.

  Jake was dumbfounded for a moment, then grabbed him by the arm. “Kid, how about we get somewhere quiet to talk?”

  The man’s grip was firm, ensuring Viktor couldn’t escape as he dragged him into a dark alley, with Hans and Petra trailing closely behind.

  “What... what are you doing?” the woman asked. “You’re hurting him.”

  “Shut up!” Jake barked. He turned to Hans, flinging the coin toward him. “What do you think?”

  The rogue caught the coin mid-air and examined it closely. “It’s gold. And... I’ve never seen a coin like this before.”

  “Exactly.” Jake nodded, his eyes narrowing as he turned back to Viktor. “Kid, tell me. Where the hell did you find this?”

  “I... I...” Viktor made a face like he was about to burst into tears. “I... I can’t tell you.”

  “Brat,” Jake said, gritting through his teeth. “Want me to break your bones?”

  “N-no, you can’t do that!” Petra protested, her voice trembling. “H-he’s just a kid!”

  “Jake,” Hans said. “He’s Claire’s brother. If she finds out about this and reports it to the Guildmaster, it’ll be bad. Very, very bad.”

  A low growl escaped Jake as he locked eyes with Viktor. “Kid, why don’t you just tell me? Then no one will be hurt.”

  “But... but...” Viktor said, his voice shaky. “You have to promise not to tell Claire, or she’ll be mad at me.”

  “Oh, why didn’t you just say that earlier?” Jake broke into a grin, releasing his grip. “Don’t worry. Your sister will never know. Now, tell me.”

  “Y-yesterday, while I was playing in the forest, I found a cave. I... I went inside. Claire told me that I must never do anything dangerous like that, but I didn’t listen. I wanted to be an adventurer! So I explored the cave, and I found this inside.”

  “Good, good,” Jake said, nodding. He shifted his gaze to Hans, looking for his opinion.

  “It must be a newly formed dungeon.”

  “I thought the same,” Jake agreed, then asked Viktor. “You’ll show us the way to that cave, right?”

  “If you promise never to tell Claire.”

  “I promise,” Jake said without any hesitation. He clapped his hands together. “Let’s go then!”

  “S-shouldn’t we report this to the Guild?” Petra asked.

  “Are you stupid?” Jake yelled at her. “Why should we tell anyone? We’ll get there before everyone else and claim all the good stuff for ourselves!”

  “But... there could be danger.”

  “What danger?” Jake thundered. “A kid went in alone and came out without a scratch. Are you chicken?”

  “It’s a new dungeon,” Hans said. “Its defense may not have been set up properly yet, so we could get in for some easy money. But we have to act fast.”

  “But...”

  “Listen, idiot,” Jake said, grabbing Petra’s shoulders. “Jeanne has left, and we won’t be able to find any good jobs until we have someone to replace her. If we miss this opportunity, we might not have anything to eat next week. Do you really want that?”

  The young woman shook her head, reluctantly giving in.

  And so, the three lambs trudged after the wolf, who led them to the house of slaughter. Retracing the same path Viktor had taken this morning, they pushed through the trees and reached the waterfall soon enough. Behind the curtain of water lay a dark mouth, gaping open, waiting to be fed.

  “Is this it?” Jake asked.

  Viktor nodded.

  “I... I have a bad feeling about this,” Petra whispered. “H-how about I wait outside with Quinn?”

  That will not do. Viktor frowned. If she waited outside and they didn’t return, she would surely report to the Guild, but he didn’t want to expose the existence of the dungeon just yet.

  He scanned the surroundings, looking for a rock that could fit in his hand. What a pain! He could hit Petra on the back of the head when she wasn’t looking, but dragging her into the dungeon afterward would be a hassle.

  “Stay here if you want, chicken,” Jake mocked. “But if we find anything, it’ll be divided only between Hans and me. You’ll get nothing.”

  “But... but...” The woman’s shoulders slumped at his words.

  “Petra, listen,” Hans said, placing his hand on her shoulder. “If there’s treasure inside, you’ll be able to pay off all your debt instantly, and even have some left over. Think about it. Tomorrow, you could be free.”

  Petra hesitated for a moment, then slowly nodded.

  Jake grinned. “Wait here, kid!” he told Viktor before the trio ventured into the cave.

  Don’t worry, Petra, Viktor thought as he watched them vanish behind the waterfall. Hans is absolutely right. Tomorrow, you won’t have to worry about any debt anymore.