Azrie

And backlog is gone! But I have to say, if there are any plot-holes weird inconsistencies do let me know, since the planning on this is flimsy at best. So there is bound to be some minor details that need some changing. Sorry in advance!

The fire flickered with life, its crackling adding to the sparse sounds of the room; the rustling of fabric and occasional footsteps accompanied it. The quietness that was close to sunrise, the brief period of silence in between, an almost eternal fragment of time that seemed to extend forever, just like the sounds of the fabric inside the room.

Yemr inadvertently let out a heavy sigh as he donned his equipment. His rune-filled sword found itself perched at his hips for easy access; his gauntlets with the words of protection wrapped themselves over his rugged hands; his standard issue cuirass covered his scar-filled torso. 

Yemr couldn’t remember how long this life of his had been going on, but only on few occasions did he feel such a heavy burden of responsibility. 

Just another false report, he told himself. Monsters in the mountains, and the possibility of a new dungeon. He couldn’t recall how many reports about newly formed dungeons had come over the years. But every time it happened, it sparked the same feelings within him. 

Uneasiness and warriness. He hadn’t come to Arlesh for such a life, or rather, he didn’t come to this town to fight the predators of the era. He⁠ — like many others⁠ — only wanted shelter, and thus found a job that was tailored to him by the town. 

Unfortunately, the report required him to investigate, since it was within his capabilities. The job was very relaxed, all things considered. As one of the one-hundred paladins of the town, all he had to do was patrol and make sure things didn’t go too far. He was essentially one of the one-hundred protectors of Arlesh. 

Yemr didn’t love the job he was bestowed, he didn’t even like it for that matter. He was unable to meddle with the affairs of the town after all. Arlesh, in the words of The Beyond, meant, “the city of heaven” but so far, it was a far-cry from heaven. It wasn't even a city, or at the very least it was but a small one. Arlesh was closer to a large town than a small city, still — the mayor had always called it so. 

He couldn’t help but scoff at his role. A servant to the town. An assigned job that wasn’t a civil one, his inability to interfere within the town even if he saw something he did not like, left a bad taste in his mouth. He only had the ability to act on reports.

And this was one of those reports. 

He groaned, his mood taking an instant nose-dive simply recalling it. He shook his head to no avail in an attempt to stop his mind from going to dark places. It’s just another false report, he told himself in an attempt to soothe his trembling heart. 

Dungeon. The word might have not meant a lot to many people, but to him. It was the world. A law of the strong. Having personally witnessed the horrors of one, just simply thinking about having to face one in direct combat made his legs weak. 

In case it’s a real report I will⁠— 

The door to the room slammed. 

“Hey, 39, are you ready?” 

A man chirped as he entered the room. He was dressed no differently than Yemr. A sword in its scabbard, gauntlets and a cuirass to protect him. The uneven fiery light reflecting from his bald head. Receiving no reply from his coworker, the man frowned. 

“Are you worried again? It’s another false report, I guarantee it.” He puffed his chest. “Besides, with your skillset and mine we can run away if needed.” 

“Right…” Yemr said as he exhaled. “Number 40, you really shouldn’t barge in like that.” 

“Eh, there we go with formalities again. 39, just call me 40!” He said. Yemr couldn’t help but shake his head as he began to feel it throb. 

The stupid protocols. A silly rule from the town. Work and life are separate. He tried to calm himself down. As a paladin and protector of Arlesh, he wasn’t Yemr, but Paladin Number 39. He wasn’t fond of being reduced to a mere number while working, especially since across all jobs his abbreviation was truly degrading⁠ — Number 39, nothing more, nothing less.

Alas, he didn’t have a say in it. As the 39th member of the elite forces he was assigned a partner. One that complimented the weaknesses in his skillset. Essentially, they were the perfect team. 

In theory… 

Yemr closed his eyes. He wasn’t very fond of Number 40, he was always cheery and happy, but Yemr simply knew better. The man was like a snake in every sense of the word. Slender and sleek; coiled back in the shadows ready to strike at any moment. He was certain that Number 40 wouldn’t hesitate to turn tail and run if need be. 

But, he would do the same if given the situation. 

Yemr tried to get Number 40’s backstory from the man himself, but he couldn’t gather much other than he was previously an assassin, but got tired of the lifestyle. And now he was here ⁠— a runaway ⁠— just like him. Looking for his information in other places yielded no results either.

“Hey, 39.” Number 40 waved him to get his attention. “I know you’re still worried, but even if it’s a newly formed dungeon it will be at most level 35, there just aren't enough monsters near the town to spawn something more… grand.” he finished his statement with slight uncertainty. 

Yemr nodded. “Right. The average level of the monsters outside isn’t anything amazing.” 

Even though he had replied, neither he nor his partner tried to continue making light conversation. One couldn’t be too careful with essentially the most efficient killers of all-time. Dungeons ⁠— unlike humans ⁠— were very systematic, and impartial. The underestimation of one would spell doom for either of them. 

After an awkward silence, Number 40 opened his mouth. “And if something more grand had appeared the mayor would’ve notified us like always.” 

Yemr found himself automatically nodding  to his partner’s statement. Even if he felt that the mayor sometimes was less than desirable, the fact that Arlesh was still standing was simply put: a statement to his grandeur ⁠— a town that by all means shouldn’t exist, whether it was because of the lack of safe trade-routes to nearby cities or the amount of monsters in the vicinity. Yet the town was thriving in numerous ways. 

It was thriving more than it had any right to. Those were Yemr’s thoughts every time he thought about the status quo as a whole, more often than not the residents of the town weren’t very desirable for other nations. Whether it was because of their past history or ideologies; it hardly mattered. 

Hence, even in spite of how much he hated his job, he never blamed the mayor for the issues ongoing with the town. No town was perfect, but perhaps one day, it would grow to match the meaning of its name. 

“Let us go check out the report and ⁠kill the dungeon core if necessary. It’s a recent formation so it probably had no time to claim territory as its own.” Yemr said decisively. 

He owed a lot to Arlesh, so he needed to do at least this much. 

“Right.” Number 40 agreed with a heavy nod as he began to re-check his equipment with a careful eye. The cheery atmosphere that he carried with him faded away in a blink.

◇ ◇ ◇

The forest crawled with monsters, ferocious forest wolves attacked the intruders as they pathed through it. The duo had been advancing for a few hours to reach the place. The monsters were surprisingly active considering the report of the raging mana in the region; normally monsters would grow scared, yet the wolves had expanded their territory instead. The usual peaceful stone-bears would attack them on sight. Overall the usually calm forest had erupted into chaos. 

Yemr side-stepped to the side and dully cleaved a wolf through the neck, decapitating it, his strike as lazy as it could get. Yet even after killing it he showed no joy. What number was it? 235th? He couldn’t remember how many wolves he had killed already, yet they rewarded nothing to him. It truly was a waste of time. 

“What’s wrong 39, already tired of killing shit?” His partner ⁠— Number 40, taunted yet his smile seemed forced at best. Getting no reaction from Yemr, his smile crumpled, and his tone changing to one of anger. “Well, I don’t blame you, this shit is getting pretty fucking annoying. Thankfully they are all dead for now.”

Yemr nodded. “Everything in this place is wrong. There is no real danger but nothing is going as it should be.” He paused for a moment. “Maybe something happened in the cave? Something that is outside of a dungeon formation?” 

Number 40 pondered silently for a second before dropping his shoulders. “We don’t get paid enough for this.” 

“We do not.” They both sighed. Wolves had been attacking them non-stop until now.

“Well, it hardly matters. If it’s a ritual to seemingly summon something then it probably is out of our reach.” Yemr closed his eyes for a second. “Back in my homeland, it was somewhat common for monsters to behave like this ⁠— when a stronger monster was vulnerable they would seemingly rage on in an attempt to kill it.” 

“Ah, your homeland? The shattered region you mean?” 

Yemr froze for a second before his entire body engaged like a spring; turning to look at Number 40, his instincts immediately went into overdrive as he prepared to drive mana through his sword. The left-over monsters nearby began to run away sensing the hostile atmosphere between the two.

“Ah, I was just testing you.” Number 40 dismissed with a wave of his hand, but Yemr didn’t stop looking at him and instead regripped his sword. “Ah, please don’t do anything rash. Neither of us will come out unscathed out of this.” 

His words gave Yemr pause as he simply spat.

“Touch my family and⁠—

“I die, I get it.” Number 40 waved his hand again. “Tsk, you remind me of that freaky scholar that is leaving the town soon. Both of you are just as trigger-happy.” 

Hearing about the scholar Yemr scoffed. He didn’t want to be compared to that woman. At least he had reasons. 

“We are almost there. Number 40, do not probe into my past again, just like I did not probe yours.” Yemr warned. 

“Hm? You totally did probe me, you just couldn’t find jack.” Number 40 spat.

“Whatever,” Yemr grunted, the gesture for some reason causing his companion to smile. 

“Well we are almost there my dear 39.”  Number 40 pointed as he looked over at the distance, the foot of the mountain barely visible amidst the sea of trees. “Well, it should be pretty quick, nothing to really scout and to be honest 39. I can sense only one presence inside the mountain, but it’s… weak.” 

“Weak?” 

Yemr sort of understood his assassin partner. His skillset was tailored at lethality and reconnaissance, so it wouldn’t be surprising if Number 40 could feel the levels or rather the strength of the presences in the vicinity. 

“Yes weak, any of the forest wolves we fought could kill it. But it’s strange. I mean, why would there be someone so weak here? A dungeon this weak? Also not possible.” 

Yemr found himself agreeing to Number 40. 

“Well, we still need to check it out, it’s our job after all.” 

“Of course,” Number 40 said with an amicable smile. Yemr simply rolled his eyes in response, knowing the meaning of the smile. 

◇ ◇ ◇ 

Yemr and Number 40 found themselves staring at the ground with doubt. 

“Well explain smarty-pants. What’s the protocol here?” Number 40 said, his words coated in venomous annoyance. 

The situation had scaled out of hand, or rather it simply didn’t make sense. It’s not that it was something hard to deal with in the literal sense, but more so that they just didn’t know how to deal with it. 

Yemr couldn’t help but scratch the side of his head. 

“I mean, we take her to town? There is clearly a… raw dungeon core there.” Yemr pointed at an orange object laying close to the fainted girl that was covered in dried up blood.

“Yes ⁠— and we both fucking know that unless you kill a dungeon you simply cannot take their core. Moreover, the fucking core doesn’t even have blood on it so it’s not as if she ripped it right out or anything. She on the other hand? She’s all bloody and shit! Hell, she even has black blood on her mouth! Did she fucking eat the core alive, huh?! At level 20?” 

Yemr paid no attention to his partner’s anger as he, instead glanced at the core with half doubt. Was it really a core? He inspected it. 

Ding! 

[Inspection: Ḋ̸̢̢͍̩̈̄u̷͙͉̽̄n̵̥̈́̈́g̷͖͉͊̏́e̶̤̥̯̓̅͛̊o̷̤̞̦͖̳͈̒̈͛͌͆ń̵͍͍͓̪͎̱̓́̀ ̵̬̳͍̣͉̽C̶̖̘͉̎͌̐͠ọ̸̢͙̠̹͌̿r̵̨̡͉̤̤̞̄̅̎̚ë̵̦́̈́́̋̀ piece (damaged)] He sighed. 

What kind of fucking dungeon core would be corrupted? Corruption is forbidden… things... A forbidden dungeon core? And a girl? It was undoubtedly above his pay-grade. No, it was above any of the Paladin’s pay grade. 

“We should just let her die. Yemr think about it,” Number 40 said in a never heard before pleading voice. Yemr gave his partner a strange gaze, he couldn’t even get mad this time around. 

“Do not use my name. And second of all, I want to take her back to Arlesh for interrogation.” 

Number 40 sighed in defeat. “Right, whatever you say Paladin Number 39 Defensor of Arlesh." His tone carried a mix of ridicule.

Yemr felt his shoulders slump. It’s going to be a long day. A really, really long one…