Argent reached into the pouch strapped to his thigh, fingers brushing against the smooth leather and faintly glowing runes.
"I spent a bit of my merits," he said, pulling out another pouch. "Got you all one of these."
One by one, he tossed them toward the others, Rime, Ember, Veyra, and Veyrn. Each caught theirs with a soft thump, the firelight catching the faint shimmer of enchantment running through the seams.
"They're rune-sealed," Argent continued, settling back onto a worn boulder. "Can hold up to five hundred pounds of gear. Not the biggest out there, but enough for us for now."
Rime whistled low. "Five hundred? That's quite a lot really."
"Can fit enough stew for a month," Mugwort muttered from his pot, barely glancing up. "If you're into cold stew by day seven."
Ward hit his hand on the pouch that was on his thigh. "Good craftsmanship," he said. "And speaking of good craftsmanship, the four of us made a deal with the battlesmith. Since we're getting him ore from the dungeon, he lent us temporary weapons. Runes of return already etched in. Not masterpieces, but sturdy enough."
Ember blinked several times. "Hold up. Too much at once." She gestured with both hands, eyes wide.
"Magic bags, like the fantasy kind that are bigger on the inside, and now weapons, and dungeons?"
Rime smirked. "Didn't you say you couldn't be surprised anymore?"
Her face flushed. "I'm not surprised! I'm just, just...clarifying the absurdity of the situation."
Ryn, who had been quietly turning her pouch over in her hands, finally spoke. "The smith was a dwarf," she said softly, almost as if testing the word aloud. "That's… surprising, right?"
Ember looked at everyone in the group, expecting surprise, but everyone else stayed silent, deliberately unbothered.
Ryn smiled a little more confidently, playing along. "Right. Of course Ember. Magical bags, dungeons, dwarves. Completely normal."
Mugwort snorted. "You people act like you ain't seen a dwarf before. Stout folk, loud hammers, smell like smoke and soup. Salt of the earth. Or maybe salt in the soup. Either way, solid folks."
The twins, looked at each other, eyes bright. "A dungeon, huh?" Veyra said, tapping her mug against her brother's. "Sounds fun."
Veyrn grinned. "Fun and probably dangerous."
Argent nodded. "Supposedly, there's ore inside, crystalline stuff. Smiths pay well for it."
Ferric leaned back, stretching his arms. "You don't get merits from the monsters, though. They're not part of the war. But the materials you find sell for a good price, the smith said almost everything you get in there can be sold."
Ward scratched his beard. "We're heading there tomorrow. Anyone else wants to come, you're welcome."
Rime shook his head, leaning back on his elbows. "Think I'm gonna take a break. See the city, maybe actually relax for once."
Ember jabbed him with her elbow. "You? Relax? You'll be halfway to trouble before noon. I am going to have to come and make sure you don't find it."
"Only halfway?" he teased. "If you come there is absolutely going to be trouble."
The twins chuckled, trading knowing looks.
Veyra sipped from her mug. "So how was the city? Can't imagine an actual city after the outskirts here."
Argent's eyes unfocused slightly as he remembered the shining streets.
"It was… unbelievable. Huge, clean, alive. People shouting, trading, eating. It felt...normal. Like a world untouched by everything out here."
Ryn nodded. "The weaver and woodworker we met, they had children. Two of them. Running around the shop while their parents worked."
That quieted everyone for a moment.
"Children?" Veyra asked finally. "Here? But… no one ages."
Argent shrugged. "We asked that too, apparently they do, until they reach twenty. Then they just stop, like everyone else."
Veyrn ran a hand through his hair. "So there are people who've never known another world. Born here. Raised here. They think this endless cycle of fighting and death is life."
Ferric's jaw tightened. "Yeah. We thought about that too. Hard not to."
The silence that followed was heavy, until Ward broke it with a grin. "And get this, they have corn dogs."
Rime and Ember froze mid-sip, turning in unison. "No way."
"Real food?" Ember demanded.
Mugwort spun around, waving a ladle like a weapon. "The only real food is stew! You don't need sticks and fried bread when you've got perfectly good stew!"
Rime held up his hands. "We're grateful, Mugwort! Promise!"
Ferric laughed. "Still, those corn dogs were incredible. Veyra and Veryn you both gotta try them sometime."
Veyra tilted her head. "What's a corn dog?"
Veyrn followed, serious as ever. "Does it actually contain a dog?"
"No," Ferric said, grinning. "But it does contain happiness."
The laughter that followed rippled easily through the camp.
Argent leaned forward after the laughter faded. "So, how was the field today?"
Veyra spoke first. "Better than yesterday. More control. Tried to channel wind, but it's… slippery. Hard to hold onto."
Veyrn nodded. "Nature's the same. I can feel it under my feet, but it doesn't listen. Yet."
Ember leaned forward, eager. "We managed to bring down three giants between the four of us. Used fire mid fight, it flickered like a candle around the tip of the axe I was using."
"Not much, but it was something."
Rime chuckled. "And we still got merits for it. Power scores went up too. Feels like progress."
Argent smiled at that. "Good. Hope you all enjoy the city. But don't buy weapons tomorrow." He leaned back, hands behind his head.
"Once we get that crystalline ore, Borth's going to make proper gear for everyone."
Ember raised her mug. "So tomorrow is a relaxing city outing, then. No fighting, no dying, just good food and pretty streets. Sounds like heaven."
Ward clanked his cup against hers. "Should be some welcome fun for you four."
The conversation softened, stretching into laughter and idle chatter until one by one, they drifted toward sleep. The fire burned low.
***
Morning
Argent woke. A faint dawn light crept across the camp, spilling gold and gray through the cracks of the ruined walls. For a moment, all was still, the soft bubbling of Mugwort's morning stew, the quiet rhythm of distant birds.
Then he turned his head, and froze.
Lying beside him in the dirt was the giant's axe he had used two days ago.
He sat up sharply, heart pounding. The blade's massive curve gleamed, the dirt, the grime, the mud, and wear all gone. It looks like it had be retooled, brought back to perfect condition.
"How..." he whispered. "How did you get here?"
Mugwort didn't look up from his pot. "Oh, that? Some ghost dropped it off. Happens now and then. Always leaving things where they don't belong."
Argent blinked. "A… ghost?"
"Maybe the tooth fairy," Mugwort continued thoughtfully, stirring his pot. "You carry that giant tooth around, yeah? Maybe you lost the tooth, got an axe in return. Equal trade, I say."
Argent exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "Right. Ghost tooth fairy. Got it."
Still, he reached out, touching the weapon's cold surface, and a faint pulse echoed in his mind.
[Register Rune of Return?]
Without hesitation, he thought yes.
[Registration Complete.]
Turning the axe over. "You didn't have a rune of return before," he murmured.
He slipped the axe into his pouch, and despite its size, it vanished neatly into the rune-woven space inside.
By then, the camp had started to stir. Ferric stretched with a groan. Ward muttered something about coffee that didn't exist. Ryn rubbed her eyes, hair a mess of blonde and dirt from the ground.
"Mornin'," Argent said, trying to sound casual.
"Mornin'," Ward echoed. "Looks like the city crew's already gone."
Sure enough, Rime, Ember, and the twins were nowhere to be seen. The fire pit beside them was still warm.
Ward grinned. "Guess they couldn't wait to have a nice day off."
Argent smirked. "Can't really blame them, we had ours yesterday and I am still a bit jealous."
Mugwort called over, "Cities' still overrated. Not enough Stew."
Argent smirked and grabbed his gear. "Alright," he said. "Let's head out."
The four of them, Argent, Ward, Ferric, and Ryn, set off eastward, following an overgrown trail through the woods. The air was cool and heavy with dew. Patches of sunlight broke through the trees like melted gold, guiding their path.
After an hour of walking, the forest began to thin, and the trail opened into a clearing. Ahead, a mountain loomed, a dark wall of stone rising into mist.
At its base yawned a massive opening, nearly forty feet high. The stone around it was blackened, as if scorched long ago.
Ferric let out a low whistle. "So this is the dungeon."
Ward folded his arms, staring up. "Big enough to fit a giant, and then some."
Ryn adjusted her pouch, eyes scanning the dark interior. "How many spiders do you think are inside?"
"Only one way to find out," Argent said, pulling his weapons from the pouch.
The axe in his right hand, the dagger in his left, both gleaming in the morning light.
Ferric wrapped his chains tight around his forearms. "Ready to smash some spiders."
Ward hefted his twin shields, broad, round, plain iron, built for endurance. "This should be an adventure at the very least."
Ryn lifted her new recurve bow, almost as tall as she was. The polished wood shiny and new, strung with silver-woven thread.
Ferric smirked. "Well. Looks like we're as ready as we'll ever be."
Argent nodded, stepping forward, the others close behind. "Then let's see what waits for us inside."