The three mages approached without any sense of urgency. They didn't even bother to quicken their pace once they stepped into the open ground before the portal, as if the crowd of gathered adventurers was nothing but scenery,not part of an operation they were about to risk their lives in. Their pale, obviously enchanted robes stood in sharp contrast to sweat-darkened armor, leather straps, and improvised heat-guards. Adventurers straightened instinctively as the mages passed, like their bodies had learned the hierarchy long before their minds did.
Dorian Halven walked in front,tall, composed, with the kind of gaze that never looked for anyone's approval.
Lysand Halven kept half a step behind him, scanning the crowd with open interest, like he was judging them not by whether they'd survive, but by whether they'd be useful.
Caelan Halven came last. Younger, but visibly enjoying the attention he drew. His slight smile held not a shred of humility.
They stopped a few paces from Rethan. Caelan looked him up and down without bothering to hide either his curiosity or his sense of superiority.
"So you're the one in command here?" he asked, his tone less a question than a statement.
Rethan nodded.
"On behalf of the Guild," he answered flatly. "Yes."
Caelan's smile widened, as if he'd just received confirmation of something he'd already decided was true.
"Then let's change the plan," he said lightly, turning a little to glance at the gathered squads. "Pick the six strongest fighters you've got, and we'll go in."
For a moment, Rethan simply stared at him, trying to process what he'd heard. The suggestion was so detached from reality it almost sounded like a joke,except there wasn't a hint of irony in Caelan's voice.
"Six?" Rethan repeated slowly. "Right now?"
Caelan nodded without hesitation.
"Yes. The three of us are enough for the vanguard," he said. "But it wouldn't hurt to bring some cannon fodder. Take six competent people with you."
That was when it truly landed, and something heavy tightened in Rethan's gut. This wasn't just "changing the plan." This was an entirely different attitude toward dungeon raiding,one that ignored everything the Guild had learned the hard way.
"You want to go in as one unit," Rethan said carefully, "and clear the whole dungeon in a single run?"
Caelan nodded again, as if the question was a formality.
"Exactly."
Dorian Halven, who had been silent until now, also nodded,with a faint, indulgent smile.
"That sounds reasonable," he said calmly. "No point wasting time on rotations."
Lysand snorted, echoing the agreement with a casual gesture.
"The faster we finish, the better," he tossed out. "This dungeon doesn't look like it deserves that much fuss."
Silence spread across the gathering,thick and uncomfortable. The adventurers had heard every word, and they all understood what it meant. Rethan stood there, feeling the situation slide toward exactly the kind of disaster Otto had warned him about. What he said in the next few minutes would decide whether this turned into a catastrophe… or stayed barely under control.
Rethan tried, for a little longer.
From Caelan's very first sentence, he'd known the conversation was heading off a cliff,but experience had taught him that even the most arrogant people could sometimes be reasoned with, if you were clear enough and concrete enough.
"This isn't the kind of dungeon you clear in one entry," he said, calm but hard, meeting Caelan's eyes directly. "The atmosphere will kill you faster than the beasts. Team rotation isn't a Guild 'idea.' It exists because people want to come back alive."
Dorian raised an eyebrow, like he was being forced to listen to something painfully boring.
"You're talking about people who can't even control their own bodies," he replied coolly. "We don't have that problem."
"And we're not here to listen to lectures from a commoner," Lysand added with a crooked smile. "Do your job."
Something in Rethan twitched,but he held it down.
"My job is to finish this operation with as few casualties as possible," he said. "And that means I'm not letting you go in there without proper procedure."
Caelan gave a short sound,not a laugh, more like a contemptuous breath. He stepped closer, deliberately invading Rethan's space, like he wanted to see if Rethan would flinch.
"Listen carefully," Caelan said quietly. "You're here because the Guild is… useful."
He let the word hang for a fraction of a second, as if he'd considered another and decided it was too generous.
"Nothing more."
His gaze drifted over the adventurers behind Rethan,patchwork armor, battered blades, faces tired from the road. He didn't linger on any of them for more than a heartbeat.
"If a few of your people die," he shrugged, "the world won't even notice. Commoners die every day."
Caelan lifted one hand in a lazy gesture, like he was brushing away dust.
"But if someone from my family dies…"
He smiled thinly.
"Go ahead. Picture what happens after that."
Silence.
"Of course," he added a moment later, almost politely, "I understand that for trash like you, it's hard to grasp. Risk. Responsibility. Those are concepts for people,not tools."
Several adventurers went rigid. Somewhere in the back, someone shifted; metal chimed softly. A hand closed around a sword hilt hard enough that knuckles turned white.
They weren't strangers to noble contempt.
But hearing it like this,right here, at the dungeon entrance, spoken calmly like an obvious truth,was different.
Rethan knew this was as far as it went.
He also knew part of him wanted to let the three of them go in alone. Let the portal swallow them and let the dungeon teach them what it thought of bloodlines.
But he couldn't. If any of them died, the consequences would fall on everyone. And he would be one of the first people someone tried to blame.
He clenched his teeth.
For a brief moment, he looked over the gathered adventurers, as if weighing their lives in his head. Then he bit the inside of his lip and made the call.
"Fine," he said quietly, but clearly. "Six."
He spoke the names one by one, without rush,choosing people with experience in fire-type dungeons, people who could follow orders, people who knew when to retreat.
As each name was called, the chosen faces shifted. Jaws tightened. Eyes sharpened. They all understood this wasn't an honor. It was danger.
And yet they stepped forward without a single complaint.
The mages glanced at them the way you might appraise merchandise. Then Caelan nodded, visibly pleased.
"See?" he said. "We can cooperate."
Dorian was already turning toward the portal.
"Then let's not waste any more time," he said. "The sooner we're done, the sooner we're back."
They went first,confident, unhesitating. The fiery ring reacted immediately as they neared its edge, spinning faster, brightening. Their silhouettes began to blur. Edges softened. Contours vanished one after another, as if the portal was eating them in pieces,until they were gone.
Rethan stood for a heartbeat, alone with his thoughts.
He looked up at a sky that was unnaturally bright for the hour and let out a heavy breath. Instinct told him this was going to be a nightmare,no matter how strong those mages were.
He checked his gear with practiced precision, the way he always did before a run.
He touched the amulet on his chest,cooling his body and easing the burn of hot air in his lungs. He checked the flexible armored insert beneath his leather,matte, made to disperse heat, not stop a blade. He made sure the small vial of oil was still at his belt, meant to reduce his boots' grip on molten rock. He confirmed the simple wrist band that soothed minor burns and skin splits before they turned into something worse.
Then he looked at the six adventurers chosen to follow him and nodded once.
"We stick together," he said. "And we listen. No matter what the mages do."
He turned and stepped into the fire, feeling the world on the other side closing behind him.
***
When the three mages emerged on the far side, what hit them first wasn't the sight,it was the breath.
The air inside the dungeon was thick, hot, packed with ash and steam that clung to skin like sticky dust. Every inhale felt like you had to wrestle it out of the atmosphere.
Everything around them was fire and lava, but not in a simple, flat way. The walls looked like frozen waves of melted stone,cracked, threaded with veins of ember that ran deep through the rock like pulsing blood vessels. The ground was black and split in many places; in others it was softer, slightly yielding underfoot, as if it had only just cooled after a fresh spill of magma.
Above them hung a faint, wavering glow that didn't come from any single source. It was the result of light reflecting off molten fissures and the occasional magical discharge that crawled across the ceiling like distant, silent lightning.
All three used magic almost automatically.
Not flashy spells, not attacks,just quick, precise activations born from years of training and habit. A thin, unnatural sheen rose over their bodies, subtly different for each of them. Around Caelan it looked like heat shimmering over a forge. Around Dorian it was steadier, darker, almost amber. Around Lysand it flickered unevenly, as if even his mana had to struggle to adapt to the dungeon's pressure.
"Disgusting place," Lysand muttered, grimacing as he looked around. "And people act like these holes are some kind of tragedy."
Dorian gave a short snort, brushing a sleeve where no ash dared to stick.
"For them, it's a wall," he said. "For us, it's just a matter of time."
Caelan's grin widened. He looked like someone who'd finally arrived somewhere worthy of his talent.
"Did you see his face?" he said suddenly, amused. "That commander. Like someone told him the world was about to end."
Lysand laughed.
"I thought he was going to cry," he said. "And when you brought up death,perfect."
Dorian nodded, a faint satisfaction crossing his expression.
"Good. You put him in his place immediately," he said. "People like that need to know where they belong, or they start thinking their opinions matter."
Caelan lifted his chin, as if it was an unquestionable truth,and he was just about to add more when the air behind them rippled again and silhouettes began to step out of the portal.
First came the six chosen adventurers, already winded from the transition. Then Rethan, who immediately scanned the space,temperature, terrain stability, airflow,the way someone did when they'd seen too many dungeons to take any of them lightly.
Caelan glanced at them once, then turned toward the corridor leading deeper into the dungeon. From within came a dull, distant thudding,along with faint, inhuman sounds.
"Good," Caelan said, like he was announcing a decision even though it had been obvious to him from the start. "Let's move."
He didn't wait for confirmation.
He took off first, almost at a run, without checking the ground, without looking back. Dorian and Lysand followed instantly, their outlines blurring slightly in the heated air.
For a brief second, Rethan watched their backs, an unpleasant weight settling in his stomach. He knew that from this moment on, everything would be faster, sharper, and more chaotic than it should've been.
Then he nodded to his people.
"After them," he said.
And so,three mages and seven adventurers pushing into a world of fire and magma,the conquest of a Beast-rank dungeon officially began.