Chapter Eleven
Beneath the Crest
Moonlight filtered through the canopy as Kael and Mara crept toward the bandit camp, their silhouettes shadows among the trees. The laughter of drunken guards drifted through the still air, mingled with the faint crackle of firewood and the rustle of nocturnal creatures.
They didn't approach the camp directly. Instead, they moved to the edge of the tree line and seized their chance. A lone bandit, tipsy and separating himself from the others to relieve himself, became their target. With a swift, silent maneuver, Kael tackled him to the ground and clamped a hand over his mouth. Mara helped drag him into the woods, her other hand glowing faintly with dark energy in case he struggled.
Kael pressed his blade lightly against the man's throat. "Scream and you lose more than your voice."
The bandit snarled and thrashed, trying to kick out.
Until Mara leaned close.
Her eyes shimmered, the sealing bracelet flickering for a moment. Her voice dropped into something... otherworldly. "Speak. Now."
The bandit stiffened. His pupils shrank as though he were staring death in the face. "T-The prisoners… they're kept below! Under the boss's room! The cave—under the old tunnel! The one with the lion crest over it!"
Kael exchanged a glance with Mara, then struck the man at the side of the head with the hilt of his sword. The bandit collapsed, unconscious.
They pressed forward, skirting the camp's perimeter. The guards were few and sloppy—drunk, distracted, or fast asleep. The structure at the heart of the camp loomed ahead, part wood, part stone, and built directly into the side of a rocky hill. A single symbol stood carved into the entrance arch: a noble crest etched in silver paint, illuminated eerily by the nearby torches.
A lion devouring a sun.
They slipped through the entrance.
Inside, the air turned cold. The cave was no ordinary hideout—it was vast, winding, and structured like a dormant dungeon. The stone walls bore faint sigils, long faded, and strange grooves ran along the floor. Forking tunnels opened in every direction, as though designed to mislead intruders. The deeper they went, the more Kael felt disoriented. It was like the cave didn't want them there.
Mara suddenly stopped. Her eyes glowed a soft violet. A dark mist shimmered at the edge of her lashes.
Kael blinked. "What are you doi—?"
She raised a hand and pointed. "That way."
"You sure?"
Her expression was unreadable.
They took the second largest tunnel to the right and moved with practiced stealth, feet silent over uneven stone. Just before reaching the far end, Kael felt a presence behind him. He reached for his sword—
A hand landed on Mara's shoulder.
She spun, ready to strike, only to freeze when she saw the familiar cloak and silver-streaked hair.
"I'm here to help," Zerai said casually, a glint in his eyes.
Kael tensed. "How the hell did you—?"
Zerai pulled out the crystal shard. It glowed faintly in his palm. "Relic. I have ways."
"You were spying on us?"
"Would you rather I just watched you walk into disaster?" Zerai shrugged, amused.
Together, the trio crept deeper into the maze until they reached a long corridor lined with carved columns and torchlight.
"We're taking Ilya and leaving. That's all," Zerai said firmly.
Mara turned to him, frowning. "No. We're getting everyone out."
"I'm here to help you two," he replied. "Not them. I told you not to get involved."
Kael stepped forward, eyes narrowing. "You knew about this. Didn't you?"
"We only met days ago," Zerai said, voice low. "You expect me to tell you everything that I know?"
Mara crossed her arms. "You're not denying it."
"It's better you didn't know," Zerai replied. "If this spirals, it's not just you at risk. You want answers? Then follow my lead. We get Ilya, we leave. I'll tell you what I know—after."
Kael's hand hovered over his sword. "We can't just ignore this. These people are suffering."
"And if you blow this up, you might never reach the Labyrinth or learn the truth about whatever it is that you seek," Zerai warned. "We don't have time for a crusade."
A heavy silence settled.
Mara's jaw tightened, but she eventually nodded. "For now. But we come back."
They reached the chamber near the end of the corridor. Behind rusted bars and arcane locks, a group of people sat huddled together—exhausted, dirty, but alive.
"Ilya?" Kael called softly.
A young elven girl stirred. Blonde hair tumbled around her shoulders, and her green eyes widened at the sight of them. She clutched an old woman close, both of them blinking in disbelief.
"We're here to help. Come with us."
As they moved toward the exit, a shadow blocked the tunnel ahead.
A giant of a man stood there—6'5 at least, muscles like stone, his frame thick with scars and tattoos. His broad chest bore a plated harness, and across his back, he held a massive sword etched with runes—clearly a dungeon relic, blackened steel with a violet sheen. A torn scarf hung from his neck, the noble crest shining boldly across it.
"Where do you think you're going with my property?" His voice was deep, amused, deadly.
Dozens of footsteps echoed as more bandits poured in behind him, weapons drawn.
Zerai clicked his tongue. "Of course."
Lightning sparked along his limbs.
The boss raised an eyebrow. "A dungeon beast kin? Heh. Never seen one talked."
Kael and Mara drew their weapons, exchanging a confused glance.
Then the boss vanished in a blur—and the battle began.
Kael barely deflected the first strike, the force of it sending shockwaves through his arms. The boss's movements were almost impossibly fast for his size, his blade slashing with practiced ease and brutal strength. Zerai flashed forward, lightning dancing from his feet to his fists, clashing steel with the bandit leader.
"Kael!" Mara called, on her battle stance holding her sword preparing to protect the hostages as more bandits closed in.
Kael moved alongside Zerai, dodging low and slicing upward—only for the boss to spin, parrying with a single hand and striking with his elbow. Kael flew back but landed on his feet.
"You're quick for a twig," the boss grinned. "But you'll snap eventually."
Kael rushed again, blade glowing faintly as he focused. He traded blow for blow, barely keeping up with the man's unpredictable rhythm. Sparks flew as metal clashed, and arcs of lightning erupted from Zerai's attacks, searing the ground.
Then the boss landed a crushing hit—Zerai slammed into the wall, the stone cracking behind him.
"Zerai!" Kael shouted.
He charged forward, trying to land a decisive strike, but the boss met him blow for blow, laughing with every swing. "Not bad. But still too soft!"
Kael's stamina wavered. He stumbled.
The boss grinned.
He raised his blade for the finishing strike.
BOOM.
A fireball blasted into the boss's side, knocking him backward.
Kael blinked. The old man from the prisoner group stepped forward, a gnarled staff crackling with residual magic. His eyes glowed with ancient power.
"You ruined my chance of finding out about the truth, boy!" the old mage grunted. "Now step aside!"
He raised his staff and fired a dark pulse—shadowy arrows that struck every remaining bandit. They dropped like leaves, fast asleep before they hit the ground.
Kael and Mara stared, stunned.
But the boss rose slowly—unburned, unscathed. His sword gleamed. His eyes burned with fury.
Everyone else was down. Only he remained.
Zerai stirred, rising from the rubble, one hand pressed to his side.
Kael tightened his grip on his sword.
The real battle was only beginning.
Continue to Chapter XII...