Darian didn't wait for the bodyguards to close the distance. His hand closed over his sword's hilt, but it wasn't a simple physical movement. In the depths of his mind, he sought the connection with the spiritual grimoire.
Flow Perception.
The world seemed to stretch. Darian's mana dropped sharply, leaving him a stabbing cold in his stomach, but in exchange, time slowed. He could see the lines of force of the enemy attacks before they happened. He dodged the first thug's axe slash with an almost lazy lateral step and, with a fluid turn, struck the pommel of his sword against the base of the man's skull, sending him face-first to the ground.
"Watch your left, idiot!" Aria shouted.
Fwip! Fwip!
Two arrows whistled past Darian's ear, embedding themselves in the second guard's forearms just as he raised a dagger. The man screamed, dropping the weapon. Aria didn't stop; she advanced with a third arrow drawn, covering Darian's flank with the authority her years as Silver-rank had granted her.
"Don't throw yourself in like that without warning, Darian. We're a team, not your personal spectacle," Aria scolded him, though her eyes never lost sight of the perimeter.
The illegal slaver, cornered against the bars of a cage, dropped the whip and raised his hands, trembling. Darian picked up a heavy sword one of the guards had dropped and walked toward the beastman. With a solemn gesture, he offered him the weapon.
The beastman took the sword. His yellow eyes blazed with a wild intensity as he rose to his feet, towering over everyone. He walked toward the slaver with heavy steps that made the gravel crunch. The trafficker tried to retreat, but found only the cage's metal.
"Mercy... please..." the slaver sobbed.
The wolfman said nothing. He raised the sword and, with a contained roar, brought it down with brutal force. The steel didn't touch flesh, but buried itself deep in the ground, right between the man's legs, tearing the fabric of his trousers. The cold of the metal brushing his skin was the final blow. The slaver felt the cold steel, saw the wolf's shadow covering him, and in that instant, the stream of urine was inevitable. He collapsed, fainting from the shock of terror.
The beastman grabbed him by one foot as if he were a sack of garbage and threw him inside the cage, slamming the bolt with a metallic crash.
"Killing you would give you an honor you don't possess," he growled. He turned toward Darian and Aria, and planted the tip of the broken sword in the ground before kneeling slightly.
Meanwhile, Darian and Aria opened the rest of the cages. They freed a pair of human peasants and a young elf who was covered in bruises and marks of beatings. Aria approached them with a serious but compassionate face, handing them a few copper coins from her own purse.
"Go straight to the west gates of the city," Aria instructed them. "Find the Guild authorities and report this place. Say that Aria Valen and Darian of Ravel freed you. Move!"
When the prisoners had left, the beastman addressed them:
"You have returned my pride. My strength and my breath are yours."
Darian looked at Aria.
"It's your mission, Aria. You're the highest rank here and the leader of this incursion. Do we accept an extra shield?"
Aria evaluated the warrior.
"A warrior with that honor and that strength is better to have on our side than wandering alone along the coast. I accept you into the team, but under my orders. If you can keep the pace, move."
Before departing, Aria distributed rations of dried meat and hard bread. The beastman ate with urgency, recovering his strength.
"My name is Varkas," he finally said. "I come from the Northern lands of the beastman continent. I was captured after an ambush with poison and ended up here. I will not forget what you have done."
Varkas approached the unconscious guards and took what he needed: heavy steel bracers, a broadsword, and a round shield reinforced with iron.
The entrance to the Hollow Reef Grotto was an enormous natural cavity beneath the cliffs. Upon entering, the ancient coral structure allowed air to flow, creating habitable passages below sea level without need for magical breathing. The illumination came from bioluminescent algae and mushrooms that bathed everything in a spectral blue.
"Maintain formation," Aria ordered.
As they descended, the horror became evident. It wasn't two or three; it was hundreds of monsters that lay scattered through the tunnels. Fish-men, giant crustaceans, and lesser serpents formed a carpet of torn flesh and scales. The carnage was absolute and brutal; some were split in half, others crushed against the black coral as if a hydraulic press had struck them. The smell of iron and monster fluids was nauseating.
"This is a massacre..." Aria whispered, jumping over the corpse of a land shark. "Whoever did this is a monster in their own right."
They followed the trail of destruction, a straight line that crossed the dungeon ignoring any distraction. Finally, they emerged into the Core Chamber.
There, the Dungeon Guardian—a colossal sea serpent—lay with its skull sunken upon its own altar.
In the center of the chamber, with his back to them and surrounded by the sepulchral silence of the massacre, stood a man. He wore black clothes, a dark cape, and a hood that hid his identity. He said nothing. He didn't move. He simply remained there, with his back turned, before the empty pedestal, emanating a presence that froze the blood of the three heroes.