"Should I… touch it?"
Stella extended her hand cautiously toward the glowing mark. The instant her fingers brushed the symbol, a golden phantom shimmered into being. She startled, jumping back with a sharp inhale.
When she pulled her hand away, the phantom winked out of existence as though it had never been there.
"So you can even see what the helper looks like…" she murmured.
She pressed her hand to the sign again, more composed this time, and studied the flickering figure.
The build appeared male—though "appeared" was the best word, since the phantom wore a full set of plain, utilitarian armor that concealed any features or hints of gender. In his right hand, he carried a long knight's lance; in his left, a shield that radiated solid dependability.
Floating above his head was a name: Maldron.
"Never heard of this person before," Stella muttered, tilting her head. "Not an adventurer?"
Still, curiosity won out. She chose to summon him.
A moment later, dazzling gold light erupted, coalescing into the figure of Maldron—now standing before her in solid, radiant form.
"Hey!" he greeted with a cheerful wave, radiating the kind of warm energy that made him instantly approachable. He looked like the sort of man incapable of scheming, someone who'd never betray a comrade.
Of course, this "Maldron" was none other than Wade, carefully disguised.
His chosen appearance was borrowed from a Dark Souls II NPC—"the people's good friend, Maldron." Revealing his true undead form was obviously out of the question.
"Hello. I'm Stella," she introduced herself, circling him curiously. She couldn't hide her fascination. The summoned ally really did manifest as a golden spirit—both striking and strangely dignified.
"Are you an adventurer too? And why would you leave a summoning mark here of all places?"
She hadn't encountered anything this novel in ages, so she refused to let the opportunity pass without answers.
Wade's spirit soared. It had been so long since he'd spoken to anyone face-to-face.
"No, no," he said with an easy laugh. "I'm not an adventurer. Just a wanderer—traveling, training myself.
As for the mark, well… you need an item called a Duelist's Furled Finger. Scratch a sign into the ground with it, and anyone who uses a Furlcalling Finger Remedy can see and summon you."
Stella's eyes lit up. She leaned closer, excitement sparking in her voice.
"Where can I get one of those Fingers?"
A beat later, she realized how demanding she sounded. Flustered, she quickly added, "I—I'll pay for the information, of course."
But Wade shook his head with disarming kindness.
"No need for that. We're all fighting to survive in this dungeon. Helping someone in need is just… common sense."
Stella froze. Those words felt like a relic of a forgotten age. Among adventurers these days, generosity had all but vanished—everyone feared being robbed or exploited. Just finding someone who wouldn't trick you was considered good fortune. A person willing to freely give information? Practically a saint.
Her impression of Maldron soared.
Then Wade pointed toward the distant fortress.
"Go out through the back gate, head into the village(Blighttown) beyond, and carve your way through the enemies there. At the cliff's edge in that village, you'll find a Duelist's Furled Finger. And not far past it lies the entrance to the next area—a vast hollow inside a massive tree."
Stella's jaw dropped. "Wait—you're saying you already cleared that cursed village?"
He simply nodded, calm and unruffled. To her eyes, it was the effortless composure of a true master.
In that instant, Maldron's image in her mind climbed even higher.
Her eyes gleamed, as though she'd stumbled upon treasure.
"Can I ask you to guide me through the village?" she pleaded, voice urgent with hope. "I'll pay—anything you want, name your price!"
But instead of pouncing on her offer, Wade only shook his head.
"I don't need payment. If you really want to repay me… just talk to me. It's been a long time since I've had a proper conversation. I'm a little out of touch with… well, the world outside."
"That's no problem at all! I read the news every single day."
And so, the golden phantom Maldron and Stella set off side by side into the swamp—though in truth, Stella was the one following his lead.
What she saw left her awestruck.
Maldron seemed to know every inch of the swamp. He guided her along narrow ridges of dry land that neatly bypassed lurking monsters, and through hidden shortcuts that led straight to bonfires—paths Stella and her party had never even suspected existed.
Even more astonishing, he moved as though he had memorized the exact perception ranges of every creature. He skimmed the very edge of their awareness, strolling past without triggering a single attack.
"You must have spent forever exploring this place," she breathed.
"Just some thorough scouting," he replied lightly.
To her ears, that casual humility was the true mark of a master.
Stella's admiration burned brighter. What she respected most wasn't brute strength, but the ability to truly explore a dungeon. And Maldron's skill eclipsed her own by leagues. She doubted she could ever have uncovered such paths.
Meanwhile, Wade was quietly feasting on the one thing he lacked most: knowledge.
Before, his world was limited to vague snippets about the nearby city of Bedford, a hub where adventurers gathered. Now, thanks to Stella, he learned about its prominent families and their quirks: Charon, the musclebound fool; Vilde, the effeminate young master; and Sali, the strikingly beautiful cross-dresser.
Her opinions carried obvious bias, but Wade treasured every morsel.
He also pieced together the structure of power in this world: Low, Middle, High, King, Saint, Legend. A simple hierarchy. And apparently, there was no limit to how many professions one could master—provided one had the talent and time.
Weapons, tools, spells—everything adhered to this same ranking. Almost too straightforward a system.
Stella did blink once or twice at his "obvious" questions, but Maldron's quiet confidence erased any suspicion. She couldn't imagine some dungeon monster faking such fluency in human speech.
Beyond essentials, Wade soaked up gossip too—like the Adventurers' Guild leader's scandals.
He learned that humanity's strongest was a royal court mage named Cowan, long recognized as a Legendary class, though unseen for decades—many whispered he was already dead.
The elves remained secluded in their forest, ruled by a queen of Legendary strength, but otherwise uninvolved in worldly affairs. Dwarves held their mountain kingdoms, unified under their king, formidable through smithing and brewing alike.
By the time Wade finished, he was stuffed full of information, almost satisfied enough to sigh in bliss.
Before long, the pair arrived at the looming fortress gates.
"Already?" Stella's voice brimmed with awe. "You got us here so fast! I've never seen anyone speedrun the poisonous swamp before."
Her eyes gleamed with admiration.
Wade merely gestured ahead, steady and commanding.
"Get your weapon ready—it's time to fight."