The wind dies the moment I cross the threshold.
The silence that replaces it is almost as jarring.
For a moment, I just stand there, letting my ears settle, my eyes adjusting to the dim, steady glow of mana-lamps set into the walls. They still burn with soft, golden light trapped behind faceted crystal housings, untouched by time.
“...Okay,” I murmur. “That’s already weird.”
Behind me, Cari hustles in and practically sags in relief.
“Oh thank the gods,” she breathes, already tugging her scarf loose. “I never want to see snow again.”
Bella crawls through after us, but says nothing.
She steps past us instead, slow and deliberate, her gaze sweeping the chamber.
A massive hall stretches out before us, its ceiling rising high overhead, easily three or four times taller than it needs to be. Supporting it are thick, square-cut pillars that run the length of the space.
Each one is carved with bold, geometric patterns that seem to shift if I look at them too long, as if the stone is still being shaped.
Opposite where we entered are three branching pathways, each leading somewhere new.
But nothing else stands out, other than the fact that the magic of this place is clearly still active. Given that it’s of dwarven make, that doesn’t come as much surprise.
I lead the way once more, taking my sweet time just in case there really are traps left behind.
To our left, the hall opens into a series of side passages, wide enough to walk three abreast without brushing the walls. Dozens upon dozens of doorways, each leading into smaller chambers.
Sleeping quarters, maybe, or offices.
Probably both.
To our right, the space expands further into something that looks somehow even more lived in.
Tables hewn from the stone itself. Benches worn smooth by use. A long counter at the far end, with shelves behind it that still hold dusty bottles and thick-bottomed mugs.
Cari blinks.
“...Is that a bar?”
I snort. “Dwarves and their booze.”
We move deeper.
The signs of life are everywhere once I start looking for them. Not cluttered or messy, but present. Tools set neatly along the walls. Still full storage alcoves carved directly into the stone.
Many of the doors hang open, offering brief glimpses into the lives that were lived here, each buried beneath a layer of dust.
“...Dwarves that leave behind their tools? They must’ve left in a hurry,” Cari says.
Bella pauses beside one of the alcoves, running her fingers lightly along the edge of a carved shelf.
“Or they intended to return,” she replies.
“But why leave in the first place?” I ask.
Nobody has an answer, so we continue on, until we finally run into what is clearly the heart of this outpost.
A mine.
The space opens up again, wider this time, the ceiling arching high overhead as mine-cart rails cut through the stone floor in clean, parallel lines. They stretch forward into an unreasonably gigantic tunnel that disappears into darkness.
Cari steps up beside me, peering down the tracks.
“Whoa.”
I nod in agreement, slack-jawed by the size of the tunnel.
“This is no small operation,” Bella mutters.
She crouches near one of the carts that sit abandoned along the rails.
There are dozens of them, with easily half of them still fully loaded with raw material.
I step closer, brushing a layer of dust from the nearest pile.
Metal glints back at me. Unpolished as it is, I still recognize the yellow flecks that wink back at me in the dark.
Cari leans in, squinting.
“...Wait, is that—?”
“Gold,” Bella says flatly.
We both look at her.
She straightens slowly, her expression unreadable.
“Low purity,” she adds. “But there’s a significant amount of it.”
Cari’s eyes light up immediately.
“So we’re rich!”
“No, we are not,” she says flatly.
“But why no—oh,” she starts, then deflates. “...Right. Dwarves.”
“Dwarves,” Bella repeats.
I glance at Bella, then at the cart, then back at Bella.
Then I whimper.
“They wouldn’t notice a few chunks missing, right?” I ask, already reaching toward it.
Bella’s gaze narrows on me.
“If they learn of this place—and believe me, they will—they will stop at nothing to reclaim it,” she says. “They’ve gone to war over coffee beans. What do you think they’ll do for a literal gold mine?”
I pause.
...Then very slowly pull my hand back.
“...I’d like to file a complaint,” I complain, mimicking Cari.
She doesn’t even dignify that with a response, simply nods and turns back to analyzing the space around us.
I give the nearest chunk of ore a mournful pat instead, dragging my fingers across its rough surface.
“Not a single drop of loot this entire delve,” I grouse. “What kind of dungeon even is this?”
Bella snorts. “The kind that didn’t try to kill us directly, which I’m personally counting as a victory.”
“It literally threw you off the mountain,” I grumble. “And kept redirecting us at every opportunity. That’s not a victory, that’s a scam.”
She chuckles. “We are not here to enrich ourselves, Emilia.”
I shoot her a flat look. “Says the rich girl.”
She smirks at me, but doesn’t otherwise acknowledge the jab.
The rails lead us deeper, though not very far. The cave ends abruptly in a tumble of broken rock and packed earth, the entire thing having long since collapsed on itself.
So we backtrack, taking a moment to look through a few smaller side passages.
Through a second, much smaller tunnel is a completely different kind of rail system, similar to the train tracks and platforms we use in Tyrania.
It narrows as we push further into the mountain. The tracks themselves are simple compared to the trains we use now—thicker metal, wider spacing, clearly designed for slower, heavier carts.
“...Huh,” Cari murmurs, crouching briefly to run her fingers along the rail. “This looks like an early version of the railway system.”
Bella leans over her shoulder. “What makes you say that?”
“Well, it’s practically the same as what we use in Tyrania,” she says, slowly building up her confidence. “And Dwarves are some of the biggest contributors to Tyrania’s rail system.
“And the elves,” Bella adds absently. “They handled a lot of the long-distance mana routing, didn’t they?”
Cari nods. “Yeah... but if this really is something of a prototype version of the rails we use today, the dwarves might have had a much bigger impact than we know.”
Unfortunately, this tunnel also ends not long after that.
Like the last, it’s completely collapsed.
The ceiling has given way in a jagged, uneven mass of stone and debris, burying the tracks beneath it.
I stare at it for a long moment.
Then sigh.
“Well,” I say, straightening. “That’s that.”
“No argument here,” Cari mutters.
Bella gives the collapse one last, assessing look before turning away.
“We’ve seen enough. There’s no reason to push further.”
We backtrack.
Carefully at first.
Then... less so.
If there are traps here, they’re either long inactive or buried somewhere deeper than the main paths. The halls remain silent, the rooms untouched save for time and dust.
We check a few more of them as we go.
Sleeping quarters. Storage. Offices. All empty.
Useful things, though.
Toolset of the Forgotten CraftsmasterEpic, Blood Binding
Once a dwarf’s best friend.
Enchantments:Perfect Self RepairThis item cannot be permanently destroyed.
Perfect Precision ToolingThis item guides its user as they craft, eliminating errors in shaping, cutting, and assembly, greatly increasing the odds of a Perfect outcome.
Ascended Improve CreationThis item increases the rarity of any item created with the use of these tools by one, up to a maximum of Ascended.
Very useful things.
Which is why—
“Oh, come on,” I protest as Bella closes my hand around a perfectly good set of tools. “No one’s using them.”
“That is not the point,” she says, prying them from my grip with calm efficiency. “This is dwarven property.”
“They abandoned it.”
“And they will review the scrying of our delve when they learn of this place.”
“But... wait, really?”
She nods.
My ears droop as she places the tools back exactly where I found them.
Cari watches the exchange with open amusement.
“Getting scolded suits you,” she says.
“Don’t make me throw you back outside,” I huff.
Bella chuckles at that, so I take the win with a smug grin.
In the end, we set up camp near the entrance to the outpost.
Close enough to the exit that we can leave quickly if we need to, but far enough inside that the wind doesn’t reach us. The difference is immediate, and very, very appreciated.
Cari all but melts into her bedroll the moment we settle.
“I’m never leaving,” she declares. “This is my home now.”
“It’s cold stone,” I chuckle.
“It’s warmer than outside,” she counters. “That’s all that matters.”
I shake my head and give her a quick hug before stepping out to begin my watch.
Thankfully, the night passes quietly—though I’m not sure why I’d expect a change now after a full week of nothing.
Bella takes the final watch.
I don’t know how long I’m asleep before her hand finds my shoulder.
“Emilia.”
I grunt, half-buried in blankets.
“Emilia, wake up.”
I moan, finding Bella’s scarlet eyes peering down at me with something almost like affectionate exasperation.
I very, very slowly push myself upright, blinking away the last of the sleep.
Cari groans beside me but doesn’t wake.
“What is it?” I ask.
Bella doesn’t answer immediately.
She just tilts her head toward the entrance.
I follow her gaze.
And freeze.
Where the open passage had been—where the pale, shifting light of the mountain should be—is a familiar door.
It swallows the light around it, its edges blurring into nonexistence against the stone that frames it.
The dungeon exit.
“...Oh,” I say.
Behind me, Cari finally stirs.
“Mm... what’s—” she trails off as she sees it, her voice catching. “Oh.”
Bella rises smoothly to her feet.
“It seems our time here is over.”
We don’t rush the exit, but we don’t stop to check our Notices either.
After six days of being shoved around, I’m perfectly content to take the last stretch at my own pace, and Bella seems to agree.
Cari doesn’t, but she doesn’t push us to hurry… much. Even I can admit I’m eager to get out of here.
Mostly so I can check that gorgeous level-up notification I may or may not have peeked at while we were packing.
The door looms ahead, swallowing the dim light around it.
Cari stretches as we approach, letting out a long, satisfied groan. “I can’t believe that’s it. No monsters, no boss—”
“No loot,” I add bitterly.
“Just weather,” she continues, ignoring my comment. “Well, except for the mountain trying to throw over a ledge every five seconds.”
I nod. “Yeah, that was rude. Do you think that was the guardian?”
She shrugs.
When we finally reach the exit, all of our belongings safely stored away once more, I glance at Bella.
“This has to be the most uneventful delve you’ve had yet, right? It is for me.”
Cari nods in agreement, but Bella doesn’t answer immediately. She studies the door for a moment, then looks back at me with the faintest hint of a smile.
“I wouldn’t be so certain,” she says.
I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Her smile broadens. “You’ll see.”
One moment, there’s cold stone and stale air, and the next there is warmth, light, and noise.
We emerge onto the Dais, and it takes me half a second to realize we’re not alone. The Headmaster stands waiting, flanked by several members of the faculty with their metal tablets already in hand.
This time, there’s another two parties situated about the space, each speaking with their own proctors.
Ah. Right.
I hadn't expected any other parties to still be leaving, but apparently some were unlucky enough to be thrown into longer-lasting delves.
I straighten a little, brushing dust from my coat as their attention settles on us. The Headmaster says nothing at first, just watches, his gaze flicking over each of us in turn.
One of the instructors directs us off the platform toward where they all wait, and once we arrive, he asks a similar set of questions as our first delve.
This time, though, there is no hostility or skepticism, given that this delve went uninterrupted.
“Whoever leads among you, please describe the nature of your delve.”
“We were placed atop a mountainous region with unstable environmental conditions,” she begins. “Severe wind, heavy snowfall, and limited visibility. The terrain itself appeared to shift in response to our movements.”
He nods once. “Continue.”
“We encountered no hostile entities,” she says, “but the environment repeatedly forced us off viable paths. Several routes collapsed shortly after we committed to them, suggesting deliberate interference.”
He doesn’t seem surprised, but still continues tapping away at the tablet.
Bella continues, calm and precise. “On the sixth day, we determined that we had been guided in a loop. Then as we continued, the path gave out beneath me and I fell. Thankfully, I was secured by rope as a backup given my low Dexterity, and we recovered without incident.”
He glances up to give her a nod of approval, but Bella doesn’t pause.
“During that event, we identified stone structure embedded within the mountain. Further investigation revealed it to be an abandoned dwarven outpost.”
The Headmaster’s expression sharpens slightly, and he steps forward.
“Dwarven?”
“Yes,” Bella says. “The structure was largely intact. Living quarters, communal areas, and an entire mining operation.”
She pauses just long enough to glance back at me, then continues.
“With multiple carts of unrefined gold.”
The reaction is immediate.
One of the faculty—a broad, stocky man I hadn’t paid much attention to before—goes completely still. Then he steps forward, eyes locked onto Bella.
“What kind of operation?” he demands. “Depth? Structural integrity? How much was left?”
Bella answers without hesitation, listing details in that same measured tone. By the time she’s finished, the dwarf looks like he’s about to vibrate out of his own skin.
“I need to report this,” he says, turning toward the Headmaster.
The Headmaster opens his mouth to respond, but the dwarf has already disappeared.
The remaining faculty exchange glances, a few of them sighing under their breath. The Headmaster, meanwhile, pinches the bridge of his nose with slow, deliberate precision.
After a moment, he lowers his hand and fixes me with a look that’s not angry so much as deeply, thoroughly tired.
“You couldn’t complete a single delve without creating additional work for me,” he says flatly.
I blink, momentarily confused.
Then realization hits me as Bella’s answer to my question replays in my mind.
“Wait, why is this automatically my fault?”
He says nothing.
“I didn’t pick the dwarven ruin,” I add desperately.
Still nothing.
Cari snorts beside me, and Bella—traitor that she is—remains completely silent.
I cross my arms.
“That dais is biased against me,” I mutter.
The Headmaster exhales slowly, already turning away.
Authors Note:Well, here it is :3 third chapter for the week!