The sun had barely begun to crest over the jagged, uneven horizon on this final, exhausting day of our incredibly long trek, but the atmosphere inside the heavily reinforced magical carriage was already thick with a very specific, suffocating kind of localized tension. We all knew, with an absolute, undeniable certainty, that we were mere hours away from our final destination. However, we also knew, with that same terrifying certainty, that Lucian was an unpredictable, highly volatile ticking time bomb of impulsive, self-destructive stupidity. After an entire week of watching him be magically inflated like a massive human balloon, teleported flawlessly into terrifying, blindingly bright dimensions, and turned into a pathetic, squawking bird-machine, the rest of the adventure class had reached a collective, silent, and absolute agreement. If we wanted to arrive at our next stop in one single piece—and without Sir Vael deciding to casually erase the entire carriage and everyone inside it out of sheer, god-like annoyance—we had to take drastic, immediate, and highly physical measures.
This day we all spent most of the time covering Lucian's mouth and stopping him from causing more trouble to Sir Vael.
It literally became a full-time, highly demanding job for the entire group, requiring constant vigilance and a rotating shift schedule. Every single time Lucian's wide, manic eyes started to wander nervously upward toward the wooden ceiling where Sir Vael's boots rested on the roof, or every single time he even slightly opened his mouth to utter a single, highly dangerous syllable of a complaint, a hand was already there to ruthlessly stifle him. Usually, it was Aria or Zane, whose combat reflexes were honed by years of intense physical training, slamming their palms over his mouth before the sound could even form in his throat. But even the twins, Elfrich and Elfhine, and the usually quiet Vela took their turns on "Lucian Containment Duty." We functioned as a perfectly well-oiled machine of absolute suppression. Lucian struggled endlessly, his muffled, highly distressed protests bubbling uselessly behind the tight palms of our hands, his eyes darting around in sheer panic, but we held firm with iron grips. We simply couldn't take any more chances with our lives. Sir Vael was lounging peacefully on the flat roof, and even the slightest, faintest vibration of Lucian's annoying voice seemed to make the teacher's fingers twitch in a way that suggested another horrifying, reality-bending "lesson" was imminent.
To ensure the absolute safety of the final leg of our journey, we decided to go a massive step further into extreme territory. While traveling we tied Lucian's hand to the seat. We dug through the heavy wooden supply crates in the back and found some incredibly sturdy, thick, mana-infused travel rope—the kind usually reserved for binding highly dangerous, mid-tier dungeon monsters. Aria took the lead, looping the rough fibers carefully but incredibly firmly around his wrists, pulling the knots completely tight, and securing him directly to the heavy, bolted wooden frame of the plush velvet couch. He looked exactly like a highly dangerous captive bandit being transported to a high-security prison rather than a fellow magic student, but the absolute peace, quiet, and profound relief that followed was entirely worth the sheer awkwardness of the situation. He sat there for hours, huffing and puffing loudly through his nose, his cheeks burning a bright, vibrant red with intense indignation and wounded pride, but for the first very time in seven agonizing days, the carriage interior felt like a place of actual, genuine rest instead of a terrifying, high-stakes psychological war zone.
The real, monumental physical challenge, however, came during our scheduled midday stop. Ma'am Cherha pulled the four massive horses over to a small, rocky outcrop surrounded by dry grass to have a quick, simple meal. We all knew that as soon as any form of edible food was involved, whatever tiny, microscopic shred of self-control Lucian possessed would completely vanish into thin air. We couldn't risk him lunging for Sir Vael's premium lunch again.
When eating we literally held his hands and his body to make sure he doesn't do anything. It was an absolutely ridiculous, highly chaotic sight to behold—six highly trained, magically gifted students completely surrounding one single boy on a checkered picnic blanket, desperately pinning his broad shoulders down and gripping his thick forearms with all our combined physical strength while Ma'am Cherha literally had to spoon-feed him a bowl of thick, lukewarm vegetable broth like he was a completely helpless, giant toddler.
"Don't you even dare look at his plate, Lucian," Aria hissed aggressively directly into his right ear, her grip on his left bicep tightening until her knuckles turned completely white.
"Just swallow the broth, chew the bread, and keep your eyes completely locked on the dirt," Zane muttered deeply from the right side, shifting his entire body weight and leaning heavily into Lucian's shoulder to keep him securely anchored to the solid ground.
Sir Vael sat several yards away, completely unbothered, sitting on a pristine, conjured white chair. He was elegantly and slowly slicing into a perfectly seared, highly expensive cut of rare wyvern steak, completely and utterly ignoring the massive, desperate struggle happening just a few feet away. However, the small, incredibly knowing, highly dangerous smirk playing on his lips suggested he was thoroughly enjoying the chaotic spectacle of Lucian's forced, humiliating physical restraint. We didn't let go of Lucian for a single, terrifying second until every last crumb and drop of food was entirely cleared away and Sir Vael had vanished back onto the roof of the carriage. Only then did we drag Lucian's heavy body back to the vehicle, thoroughly re-tie him to the velvet seat with double knots, and continue making our way down the long dirt road.
And after a few hours of traveling we arrived at the location.
The ambient air began to shift drastically as we finally descended from the high, winding mountain passes and entered a massive, sprawling valley. The wild, untamed, earthy scent of the deep pine forest was rapidly replaced by something far more structured and heavy—the distinct, sharp smell of cut stone, blazing hearth fires, hot forged iron, and a peculiar, metallic, highly magical tang that lingered thickly in the afternoon breeze. As we rounded a final, steep bend in the uneven road, an absolutely massive, sprawling, highly intimidating town emerged from the low-hanging mist. It was an architectural marvel, built directly and precariously into the side of a massive, towering grey cliff face, with thousands of winding stone staircases, complex wooden bridges, and heavy iron chains connecting the various, dizzying levels of the settlement.
The carriage finally slowed down to a safe, steady crawl as we passed through the massive, heavy iron-reinforced wooden gates that guarded the entrance. Ma'am Cherha looked back at us through the small sliding window connecting the driver's seat to the cabin, her expression a distinct mix of absolute professional pride and deep, lingering exhaustion.
Ma'am Cherha said that this is a famous town with a dungeon this town is called Gheji town.
The mere mention of the name "Gheji" sent an immediate, massive ripple of electric excitement through the entire adventure class. Even Lucian completely stopped struggling against his thick magical ropes for a moment, his eyes going wide as he pressed his face against the glass window to stare out at the massive settlement. Gheji Town was absolutely legendary among adventurers and warriors across fhajin. The dungeon located here wasn't just a simple, dark hole in the ground; it was a sprawling, infinitely deep, highly dangerous 10k+floor magical labyrinth that naturally attracted the strongest, most ambitious warriors, mages, and mercenaries from all over the world. The entire town was built solely and entirely around the incredibly lucrative economy of the dungeon—dozens of specialized shops sold incredibly high-grade, glowing mana potions, heavily muscled blacksmiths hammered relentlessly away at enchanted, glowing steel weapons, and the very air itself physically hummed and vibrated with the dense, ambient magical energy constantly leaking upward from the terrifying depths below the earth.
We navigated slowly through the incredibly bustling, highly crowded streets, the heavy carriage wheels clicking and clacking loudly over the perfectly maintained, polished stone tiles. The town was incredibly alive with chaotic activity, even as the sun began to set behind the massive cliff face, casting the lower levels into deep, heavy shadows. We saw hardened, scarred adventurers covered in gleaming, heavy plate armor, highly secretive mages draped in dark, flowing, rune-covered robes, and aggressive, loud merchants shouting and hawking incredibly rare, highly dangerous monster parts displayed on wooden carts. Finally, after navigating the maze-like streets, Ma'am Cherha pulled the carriage up to a massive, three-story building constructed of dark oak and heavy stone, featuring a large, swinging wooden sign that bore the unmistakable, crossed-swords mark of the Adventurer's Guild.
We got an Inn and ate food and went to bed.
The atmosphere inside the Gheji inn was loud, rowdy, and filled with the boisterous laughter of successful dungeon divers, but our specific dinner at the long wooden table was an incredibly quiet, highly exhausted affair. We were all completely and utterly drained, our stamina completely depleted by the intense week of constant travel and the endless, nerve-wracking stress of physically managing Lucian's suicidal behavior all day. Even Lucian himself seemed to have finally, completely run out of energy, slumping heavily over his bowl of thick, hearty dungeon-crawler stew and barely saying a single word, his wrists slightly bruised from the ropes. After we silently finished our heavy meal, Ma'am Cherha gave us a very brief, highly strict rundown of the schedule for the next day—which involved serious, high-stakes preparations for our official entrance into the terrifying Gheji dungeon—and promptly dismissed us for the night, ordering us to get as much rest as humanly possible.
Elphyete and I grabbed our heavy leather bags and made our way slowly up the creaky, uneven wooden stairs to our assigned room on the second floor. The interior of the room was surprisingly cozy and highly insulated against the noisy tavern below, featuring a large bed with thick, heavy wool blankets and a small, stone fireplace that had been thoughtfully pre-lit by the innkeeper, casting a warm, dancing orange glow across the wooden floorboards. The intense, comforting warmth of the fire was instantly inviting, and I could physically feel the massive, crushing weight of the week-long journey finally pressing down heavily on my eyelids, begging me to just collapse.
I dropped my bag on the floor and started to move slowly and sluggishly toward my side of the large bed, intending to just crawl under the heavy covers, close my eyes, and crash into a deep, uninterrupted sleep for at least twelve hours. However, Elphyete clearly had entirely other plans for how the evening was going to end. As soon as the heavy wooden door was pushed shut and the iron latch clicked into place, sealing us in the quiet warmth of the room, she turned toward me. The exhaustion seemed to instantly vanish from her features, replaced by a sudden, intense, and highly playful spark in her beautiful eyes.
Elphyete kissed me and pushed me to bed.
The movement was so incredibly quick, so surprisingly fluid and confident, that I didn't even have a single fraction of a second to brace my footing. Her hands hit my chest, and I ended up falling backward, tumbling onto the incredibly soft, yielding mattress with a loud, surprised huff of breath. My heart instantly started to race, hammering wildly against my ribs like a trapped bird as she smoothly leaned over me. The vibrant, crackling orange light from the dying embers of the fireplace illuminated her perfectly, the long, silken silver strands of her hair falling forward like a beautiful, shimmering curtain around us, trapping me in her gaze. I opened my mouth, a massive, chaotic flurry of confused, highly embarrassed, and heavily flustered questions completely ready to spill out of my lips to ask what she was doing.
But before I could say anything she hugged me and said goodnight.
The sudden, jarring transition from a bold, aggressive, dominant push onto the mattress to a purely gentle, incredibly sweet, and highly protective hug caught me completely and utterly off guard. She didn't press the kiss any further. Instead, she just collapsed her weight onto me, wrapping her slender arms incredibly tightly around my torso, completely burying her face and tucking her head safely into the warm crook of my neck. Her voice was just a soft, incredibly peaceful whisper against my skin when she said the word, and I could already feel her breathing starting to slow down to a steady, rhythmic pace. It was a firm, grounding, and undeniably loving embrace that instantly made all the intense chaos, the terrifying magic, and the heavy exhaustion of the past week feel like a distant, completely irrelevant memory. I felt all the nervous, panicked tension instantly leave my muscles as I fully realized she wasn't looking for another wild, intoxicating, "drunk morning" repeat; she simply, genuinely just wanted to be close to me, holding me securely as the day finally ended.
And she surprisingly slept fast.
It was almost magical how quickly it happened. Within mere seconds of wrapping her arms around me, her body became completely heavy and relaxed against mine, her firm grip softening gracefully into the quiet, rhythmic, and absolute stillness of a deep, peaceful sleep. I stayed there, frozen in place for a long, quiet moment, staring straight up at the wooden beams of the ceiling and listening intently to the soft, muffled sounds of Gheji town continuing its lively existence outside our window—the distant, rhythmic ring of a late-night blacksmith's hammer striking hot iron, and the low, howling murmur of the night wind rushing aggressively against the towering stone walls of the cliff face. The sheer, quiet comfort of her warm presence resting on top of me was completely overwhelming, anchoring my racing mind.
I took a deep, slow breath, matching the steady, rising and falling rhythm of her chest against mine. My wildly hammering heart finally began to slow down its frantic pace, lulled into absolute tranquility by the warmth of the fire and the comforting weight of the girl in my arms. I closed my heavy eyes, letting the absolute exhaustion of the journey finally wash over me, completely surrendering to the quiet peace of the inn room.
After a minute I slept.
The heavy, welcoming darkness took me incredibly quickly, pulling me effortlessly down into a deep, dreamless, and profoundly heavy slumber, finally giving my completely exhausted body the true rest it desperately needed, readying both my mind and my magic for whatever terrifying, unknown challenges the legendary depths of the Gheji dungeon had waiting in store for us the very next morning.