Chapter 7: 4.1 – Harbinger

In the ancient ruins recently discovered deep inside the 51^st floor of Kryoria’s largest dungeon, an early expedition party of 300 strong were seen making their way through its ruined structures.

To their fortune, the floor was a pleasantly lit, and they had no difficulty in sight. An artificial sun on their zenith made by the dungeon’s core lit the whole prairie that was the 51^st floor like mid-day; the ancient ruins being badly damaged and missing a ceiling on many parts.

Thankfully, they were just above the rest zone (50^th floor), and thus, the monsters there were relatively docile and were used to human presence to an extent.

A group of five that was leading the expedition halted. In front was an open doorway that lead deeper into the ancient ruin. Being poorly lit, one couldn’t make out much.

“The rest of you will wait here.” One of their employers ordered and gave no further information. With just that, the five went ahead, leaving the remaining 295 people up in the chamber above.

Most of the groups here were made up of mercenaries and adventurers, with various other specialists like explorers and appraisers; all hired in a hurry just two days earlier before they departed off from the city to the dungeon.

One day out of the blue, open contracts were posted all around the city looking for people that would be willing to explore a recently discovered dungeon, the deadline being just a day but with very wholesome pay. People were rightfully suspicious of it, but it seems they were clearly proven wrong. The promise of great wealth was not a lie, and they had won big it seemed.

[No wonder the contract did not mention it was a ruin from the Eternal War, a sanctuary no less. And being this deep inside the dungeon, no wonder it wasn’t discovered till now…] Robert thought. [If Kryoria would’ve found out about it, they would’ve definitely laid royal ownership over it.]

Their employers were merchants of great wealth, all were coming together, and it all made much sense. But even so, Robert could not help but be at unease. He suspected it was the ruin’s aura, or a hex from one of the long since dead races from the long war, but his vial, that hung around his neck hadn’t broken or change color in the slightest yet, meaning his worries were entirely on himself.

Leaning on to one side of the large pillar of the corridor their employers had just used to go down, he crossed his arm and turned around towards the large chamber.

Robert was an aged veteran mercenary, with a rough beard to back up his experienced look. He watched with squinted eyes, the five prominent groups he could make out from the lot.

Two A-rank adventurer’s party were present, his name escaping Robert’s mind currently. They were quite popular in Kryoria’s region and their reputations were quite stellar. Their members were in high-spirit and despite most of them being still so young, some not even in their early 20s, were incredibly skilled. Their leaders was both charismatic and humble, someone you could not hold a grudge against for too long, given how courteous they would be towards your vile words.

Then there were also three mercenary groups that stood out, his troupe among them.

The first one was the Ironwoods Company, the largest mercenary group that operated throughout the whole continent. The ten-man member group currently here were probably the best ones they had at hand. They all had the look of veterans, which they also were.

The second was the Band of Seven Knives. A new but quickly rising mercenary group that had been racking up contracts left and right. They were a shady group, and no one knew much about them, even their members in actions. It was obvious to anyone that heard of their exploits to quickly figures out that they dealt unethical and illegal works, and not seeing its members in front of his own eyes, Robert was willing to accept the rumors more. They were only four, and their leader stood out like a sore thumb.

Their leader a youth, had a slight grin plastered on his face, as if waiting for something. [Clearly one up to no good.] He thought.

He decided to not stare at the man for too long, in case of retaliation for breaking his fragile ego.

The third was his own group, the Old Guards as they were referred to as. They were one of the longest operating mercenary group in all of Kryoria and thus, probably the most experienced ones here.

Another notable one was an individual in the far-off corner leaning on a wall like him. From what he could make out, he seemed to be a foreign mercenary from Astann Empire. The seven-foot-tall man with a large and sturdy body and an eye patch covering his scar across his right eye had an aura of a powerful mercenary. Strong and intimidating, he also appeared aloof and with his arm’s folded; was simply biding time in wait.

“Robert.” One of his subordinates called out to him. He looked over and was tossed a ring back which he caught with one hand. The design was ornate but cryptic, and had two serpent-like creatures wrapping around itself, until its two heads bit a single violet gem.

“I don’t know what it does. Leave it to the appraisers to figure out, don’t wear it.” He answered and threw it back. The other swiftly caught it and stored it in his front pocket.

“How long do we have to stay here? Have they told us anything else?”

“No, but if they take more than ten hours, we’ll have to look for them.”

“Heh.” The latter sneers, “I’d rather not.” Robert smiles back in return, both agreed of that.

---

Half and hour had passed by now. The uneasy feeling was now almost unbearable. It was screaming at him to quickly leave and not look back. He never had such a feeling before.

But he could not just get up and leave without reason, and he suppressed his doubts further.

[Am I perhaps sick?]

Suddenly, as if the whole dungeon shifted, the ground shook violently, and Robert almost fell face first, saving himself just in time by grapping onto something. The hard floor of the chamber began to open up gaps too, albeit too small for someone to fall into. Worst of all, walls had taken the places of hallways, and they were trapped inside their chamber. Everyone was in one. Here.

And as quickly as it came, the shaking stopped. Then, pandemonium broke out to some extent. People quickly began to examine the hallways and look for alternative ways out.

Given the situation, most were calm, for now. Though he could hear many rowdy discussions and dissent all throughout.

“Goddesss Myra, protect us with your wings, and lead us out with your light—” He recited a quick prayer for safety. But stopped when a voice caught his attention.

“Finally, about time.” The words stood out to him. He looked over, and saw it was the youth from Seven Knives. He had his longsword unsheathed and was walking straight towards the opposite direction from him, towards the young prodigies.

He heard those words said clear as day despite the pandemonium. The words were something out of the ordinary to be said in such a situation, and for some reason it shook him to the core.

His heart began to palpitate and he looked at the person who said it. It was the young leader of the Band of the Seven Knives. He had taken out his long sword out of his sheath and was walking in the opposite direction of him.

Adventurers were usually young and talented individuals, many from well-off though not rich families, and were better equipped than mercenaries generally were, who had the stereotype of being poorer, among other things.

---

Being not only generally better equipped, the adventurer’s guild also trained their adventurers extensively if they were B-rank of above; something which was mandatory in many branches. This included all the way from combat, climbing, socializing with strangers and foreigners, and all the way to training to form and lead groups ad hoc. Something which none of the mercenaries here at least, had the luxury of, and only had their experience in the field to rely on. Most, weren’t cut out to be leaders and made obvious mistakes.

The adventurers were showing their training here quite well, being able to quickly calm down some of the scared groups of mercenaries and forming a proper hierarchy of roles among them.

The one at the lead of all this was a young woman, probably in her mid-20s with red hair and glasses. Besides her was a young swordsman, clearly of noble descent, both party members of one of the A-rank group.

Sensing something behind him, the women stopped talking for a second and turned around. She could see a young man with short black hair walking towards her with a sword in his hand. But before she could ask what he was trying to do,

Stab. With great force, the sword went all the way in, protruding out of her back which went straight through her abdomen.

Everyone stopped. They was just too bewildered with what just had happened, that no one moved for a few seconds and just stared.

“Lia!!” The young man finally shouted, breaking the silence and drew his sword. He quickly put a foot forward and thrusted with his sword at the aggressor’s neck.

This attack was easily dodged by backing off. But with it, The black haired youth swung his sword to the side instead of pulling it out. The sword left with a clean slice out of the women’s body, leaving a horizontal slice that went through half of her abdomen. Things were very grave for her, only the highest-grade potion could save her now, which none had.

By now, everyone had drawn out their weapons. There was an aggressor, and he was a threat to everyone.

“Mother Mira! He just killed someone!”

“Get him!”

“Take him alive!”

Shouts began to ring out and everyone began to encircle him. Everyone was now so concerned with him, that they completely forgot about his band, whether they were friend or foe.

Screams rang out at the other side and people look over. The other four members of the Band of the Seven Knives had just killed four people.

Pandemonium breaks out again as they try and reposition, bumping into each other. People try to take some distance, but are instantly rushed, not being given any breathing room. Their aggressive tactic stopped much of cohesion from forming, and many haphazardly try to get out of the way of their sword.

The Band of the Seven Knives were now all attacking everyone else. Their eyes began to glow red and slitted, and dark horns started to protrude out of their head. All except their supposed leader.

“They’re demons! Spread out!”

Even weaker demons were dangerous and powerful. But these ones were no small fries. Demons primarily relied on their magic but currently they were using swords. Meaning they were toying with them. Their killings were getting more and more extreme and unnecessarily brutal by the second.

Many lost their bearing. Fearing for their lives, they ran to get away to anywhere they could no matter how inevitable. Some tried to climb to the ceiling but to no avail as there was nothing firm to grab at. A scout or assassin would’ve easily been able to traverse out, but there were none here with such blessings, specifically not picked for the expedition, probably for this reason.

Three brave adventurers tried to buy some time. They worked together and swung from different directions, but all were parried by the black-haired youth.

[[He’s at least a Sword Master]] they all thought.

The youth quickly sheathed his longsword and took a wide stance. He was about to use wide range sword-art.

They could not run away from this, so they all chose to guard. The swing was bound to be a horizontal cut. All held their breaths and waited for the swing, an aura covered their sword, and then it finally came. This happened in just a few seconds.

The slash that came wasn’t a sword-art. There was no aura behind it. But the sheer brute force behind it was enough to slice through their sword that were covered in an aura, and also the three people behind it were sliced clean. The sword broke and so did they.

The slaughter went on for a few more minutes. Every second felt like an eternity for these poor souls. And by the end of all this, only 5 were alive along with the Band. They were dragged and gathered in the middle of the room, and were made to sit on their knees. Groans of pain were heard all throughout the room of people bleeding out to their deaths.

All five were too terrified to even utter a word by accident, fearing immediate execution if they did so. The surviving five consisted of the young adventurer who first attacked the black-haired youth; a mercenary in his late 30s from the Ironwood Company; an ordinary adventurer, scared; the 7-foot-tall man from before, visibly shaking in fear and unable to stop his sobbing; and him, the only one remaining of the Old Guards.

This is where I die… He thought like he was sure of it. He did not doubt it, but even he was stricken with fear and anxiety for his future.

“It seems we have some surplus left… Though a little extra never hurts, I’m willing to let some of you go.” The young man who was supposedly the leader said with a serene smile, as he played with a dagger in hand, something he picked up from a dead adventurer. The ornate handle clearly indicated it was someone’s heirloom. Was...

The young man paced around the room, circling around them a few times. Every time he passed behind them, they’d get a shudder, and it felt like they would be killed at any moment.

Three demons did not bother to stay and watch what happened to them and instead went downstairs to their colleagues, leaving the young man and another demon alone, who seemed much eager to watch the torture unfold. The door to the inner sanctum was open but other three that led outside were still locked.

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“Ahh… Let’s do this!” The black-haired youth exclaimed with a grin. “Name’s Gabra. Gabra Statzi. Remember that.” No one made eye contact in reply.

“So, this is what we’re going to do. I’m going to toss a coin, and if it doesn’t land on what you chose, you’re going to die. Understood?...”

No reply.

“Understood?” He said again, this time louder. All five nodded.

“You, blondy. Heads or tails?” He walked up to the young adventurer who first attacked him. He was clearly seething in anger but also too terrified to do anything stupid. He had seen how much difference they had first hand. He felt helpless, but he managed to utter out a word.

“He-heads…”

“Heads it is,” He flicked the riyal in his hand. The coin bounced a few times on the ground, and landed on heads. “Congrats, you live.” He patted and roughed up his hair in a manner to agitate and rile him.

“Your turn old man.”

“Heads.” This time the reply came back instantly. The voice was deep and stoic. One could still hear the fire in him to retaliate.

Gabra nodded his head, showing admiration and surprise for his courage. “Heads,” He repeated, and threw the coin. It flipped, bounced a few times, and landed on heads.

“As expected of the veterans of the Ironwoods, tenacious as ever.” He said in genuine admiration.

“Now, you… Look at me.” The young adventurer did not respond. “Look. At. Me.” This time, the voice was threatening.

Shaking, the young adventurer raised his head and finally looked at him, and they stare for a while.

“Have you forgotten your lines?” Gabra said.

“Pl-please no…”

“No!” Gabra exclaims with joy. “The man has chosen.. No!”

He flicks the coin up in the air, and it lands on heads once again.

“It’s a head! Not a no!” He exclaims. The demon who was watching all of this till now started to laugh.

Gabra grabbed the man’s hair and forced him to the ground.

“No! Please I-I won’t tell anyone! Le-Let me…” He pleads but to no avail, his fate was sealed. Gabra with a swift cut, slices open his neck and stood back up. The adventurer left a few feet away from the rest of the survivors was now bleeding to his death like a cattle. His blood curdling noise was painful to hear, as he could be heard gripping his neck in extreme pain.

The survivors try not to make any sound but it was hard not to do so with what they had just witnessed.

Gabra snickered as he got up to the tall man who had been sobbing all throughout the ordeal. “Big guy, your turn.” He said, as he used the man’s shirt to clean the blood from his dagger.

“Ha-He-Hel-p”

“Hah?! He? What?”

Realizing he could end up with the same fate as the the adventurer, he manages to muster enough courage and finally gambled it.

“H-Heads.” Though his sobbing continued.

“You people really love heads don’t you.” Gabra commented with a snicker and proceeded to flip the coin. It lands on heads.

He moves on without commenting.

Gabra now finally walked up to the last one. Him. Since the beginning he had not made any noise and was the calmest of the group.

“Heads.” He replies before Gabra could speak. Speaking out of turn could’ve very well turned out to be a mistake, but being the last to have his fate decided, the anxiety had a toll on him and he just wanted to end all this.

Gabra did not reply and just as quickly flipped the coin, but it fell into one of the gaps on the ground.

“Ah shit.”

“Idiot.” The demon comments.

“No worries, it’s my fault I’ll go get it back, you wait here, and don’t do anything to them.”

“Hmph,” The demon snorts derisively. Just get one from the dead, the demon thought. And Gabra headed down through the hallway into the darkness downstairs.

The survivors didn’t move an inch. Feeling the gaze of the demon standing in the distance, they were very much perturbed.

Crack.

Few minutes later, the sound of rocks breaking was heard.

Boom!!

The wall covering the entrance explodes into tiny pieces. After the dust settled down, they saw a blonde-haired young man in armor walk out from it. Behind him were dozens of knights in formation, following him. Being part of the Old Guard, he had worked with many people in his decades long career, and he could immediately tell from their formation, that they were one of Kryoria’s Knightly Order. The spearhead formation they used in confined spaces was well-known to be effective.

[Kryoria’s Knightly Order! We’re saved!] He thought.

The demon’s demeanor changed quickly from calm to seriousness recognizing the capabilities of his enemies. Wings began to manifest behind him and began to ready himself to quickly cast some spells.

But before he could, the young knight charged at him at great speed. He recognized the skill as Gale Steps.

Caught completely off guard, he could only block. But it was too late, the knight had made it past the barrier. And with a vertical cut from below, the young knight’s sword sliced the demon straight in half. The demon had misjudged the speed at which he could reach him and paid dearly for it. If he was more careful, it would’ve been a struggle at the very least.

The demon disintegrated into ash and vanished into thin air.

The other knights followed suit and ones at the back ran up and helped the survivors up,

“This one’s bleeding bad, grab him.”

“He needs a potion urgently!”

The knights helped the remaining four up and were being quickly retreated towards the exit.

The knights following their doctrine and the young knight, strongest of them here, was up ahead, intently guarding the hallway that led deeper into the ruin, guarding off the most dangerous direction an enemy attack could come from, while the rest of the knights cleared the surrounding area.

Suddenly, a dagger flies out of the cave. Being covered in a powerful aura, it made it hard to not notice. But the sheer speed and power with which it came startled him. The young knight quickly focused and parried it successfully but barely in time.

The dagger deflected up to the ceiling and he redirected the force of impact by spinning, sliding back to completely reduce the impact. A feat of acrobatics.

Five knights quickly escorted the survivor outside while the rest stayed back, ready for combat.

“New guests? And you are?”

“The vice-captain of Kryoria’s Royal Knightly Order, that is all you need to know, demon.”

“It’s uncommon to find someone so young and so skilled these days.”

“…” He did not reply and simply raised his longsword.

“So, how did you find out about all this? Who croaked?”

“It should not be a concern to a dead man.”

“Tell me about it, and I won’t chase your little cronies and kill them first. You know you can’t defend them all. I know exactly how strong you are after all. I can tell, and so do you I presume.”

The young knight gripped his sword tighter, taking an aggressive stance this time, “You underestimate Kryoria’s knights, pest.”

“Heh true, backwater kingdoms are hardly worth my concern.” A sneer came as a reply. Gabra pulls out his longsword and with a firm step forward, disappears from his position.

The young knight braces for contact.

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