Monte waited patiently, staying just outside Nick’s line of sight as the bodies were dragged, the cores were cut, and wounds were bandaged.
It took some time to clear the battlefield and reset the traps, and once that was done, Nick checked whether Malik and Yvonne were recovering from their ordeal.
Once he was done, he looked up and nodded. “Now?” Nick asked.
Monte gave a shallow nod. “If you can spare a few minutes.”
Nick could. He had already done what he could for the immediate aftermath, and if the camp was attacked again in the next few minutes, then the dungeon had truly decided to be petty.
“Come,” he said, leading Monte away from the central fire pit, past the piles of gutted goblins ready to be incinerated, and toward the northern edge, where the smell of blood wasn’t quite as strong.
He paused when they were no longer within the direct line of sight of the others and nudged the wind with his mind, gathering a pocket of silence around them. Beyond it, the camp’s noises became a muffled murmur, like conversations heard through a closed door.
Monte’s eyebrows rose a fraction.
“Speak freely,” Nick said. “If you plan to confess to being a secret Hone agent, do it now. I’ll appreciate the efficiency.”
Monte blinked, then snorted. “If I were, I suspect you wouldn’t have waited this long to kill me.”
“Good answer,” Nick said, amused. “So go on.”
Monte took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, a faintly worried crease forming on his face. “I’ve been noticing a pattern,” he said. “There isn’t a single detail that stands out, but many small things together paint a picture I don’t like.”
Nick kept his face neutral, letting the other speak his mind.
“During the fight with the Guardian,” Monte continued, “and afterward, during the retreat, I started thinking that the timing of the attacks was a bit too perfect. A dungeon is a wild place, and even if it’s said to have a mind of its own, it shouldn’t have had so many assets in place, not with how many other parties are exploring it.”
Nick hummed, starting to see where he was going.
“We were hit at the worst possible moments,” Monte said. “When Malik was injured. When Willow was straining. When you were busy with Malik and Yvonne’s madness. Once is normal, but so many times..."
He’s not wrong. I was mainly attributing it to the Feral God’s influence, but it can’t be all there is to it.
Monte’s voice dropped even more. “This isn’t just the usual stuff you’d expect. Dungeons are known to be dangerous, and there are stories of entire parties getting wiped out in the middle of the night.”
Nick tilted his head. “But?”
“But this was too coordinated,” Monte said. “Either the dungeon can see and read our movements like a seasoned general, or someone is watching us, and ensuring it has the tools it needs when it needs them.”
Nick did not like that one bit. The Central Guardian at the Well was a potential suspect, but it seemed Monte had something specific in mind.
“The beetles were too well-placed, and we didn’t see any signs of a nest, which is weird since insect monsters never stray far. I’ve hunted in noble preserves where beasts are driven toward the hunters, and it looked similar. The howls from behind were timed to make us run, too.”
“You think we are under constant surveillance,” Nick said.
Monte nodded. “Yes. I cannot prove it, but I’m almost certain of it.”
“Good,” Nick said. “Suspicion will keep you alive. Even if it’s not true, it’s good to be wary.”
Monte stared at him for a moment, then continued, clearly more confident now that he knew he wouldn’t be dismissed.
“Calder’s people, particularly the most aggressive ones that we had to kill, were far too prepared, even if you said he didn’t give a signal in advance,” he continued. “Even before the betrayal was obvious, they acted oddly, and when the fight broke out, they were not surprised.”
Nick remembered the scout’s eyes when he tried to knife him, and had no trouble nodding.
“And after Calder fell,” Monte said, “those we captured were fine, but a few could have laid down their arms and preferred to go down fighting. That’s not normal behavior.”
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Nick had wondered about that, too. Adventurers were basically mercenaries and were not known for surrendering or giving up easily, but there was a difference between fulfilling their duty and throwing their lives away.
Calder’s soul was too broken to find any answers about that, but I agree that there are too many coincidences.
“I think there are watchers,” Monte repeated. “From a distance, for sure, but there might be an informant inside the camp as well.”
Nick let the silence stretch between them. Beyond the wind bubble, someone laughed at something, though it was barely audible.
“How do you suggest we confirm this?” he asked, trying to think about who he could be referring to. Several people were potential candidates, but he’d eliminated the two most likely ones by delving into their souls and finding no duplicity.
Monte hesitated, clearly unsure about how to get someone like that to open up. Eventually, he sighed. “I don’t think we can be certain without very invasive methods, but we should assume every time we talk, the enemy will know about it.”
With a grunt, Nick nodded. “I see. I will keep an eye on things and will let you know what I find.”
“That’s all I wanted,” Monte sighed in thanks, giving him a weak smile.
Nick released the wind pocket with a flick of his fingers, and the camp’s noises rushed back in.
What a lovely thing, to have to watch your companions for signs of betrayal at every moment.
They returned as Malik and Yvonne stirred. Willow was there right away, offering them a hand, while Raphael kept a cautious eye for a repeat of their previous madness.
“Easy,” she told him. “Do not open your wounds, please.”
As Malik’s eyes opened, they appeared bloodshot and unfocused. For a moment, Nick worried he’d have to step in again, but then Malik blinked, and what came next was not rage but shame.
He looked at his own hands as if he did not recognize them. “I…” Malik rasped.
Yvonne woke up a moment later. Her head tilted to one side, and she spat a thick clot of dark blood into the dust with a grimace. When her eyes met Nick’s, she flinched like someone who had been slapped.
“Do not look at me like that,” she said hoarsely.
Nick blinked. “Like what?”
“Like you pity me,” she snapped, then her voice broke on the last word, and she stared at the ground.
“You two,” Raphael said. “Get up.”
They obeyed, though they moved slowly, their bodies too exhausted from their bout of madness, even with Ogden’s potions helping.
Raphael waited until they were both standing before speaking. “We will not split up to go look for your friends. The dungeon has shown us what a moment of carelessness can turn into.”
Malik swallowed and looked down, but he finally nodded.
Yvonne looked resigned as she exhaled and nodded. “Understood.”
Nick focused [Empyrean Intuition] just enough to probe them. He could feel the aftertaste of the wolf’s madness in them now that he knew what to look for, but it was almost completely faded and too weak to affect them now.
It’s curious how I couldn't notice it at all before, yet now it’s as clear as day.
He suspected he knew the answer, but he went to check, just to be sure. Turning his awareness inward, he examined the Tree of Life that had grown in his soul, only to find it larger.
Not by much, but enough that it appeared less like a fragile green sprout and more like a month-old plant, with enough life to withstand some stress. Its leaves were brighter, and its presence more noticeable.
It anchored him to the physical world effortlessly through Malkuth, and with Yesod completed, he could now understand the truth of souls much more clearly.
In the end, he had cleared the trial easily enough, even though he took an unconventional approach by facing the founding moments of their paths and giving them enough strength to overcome the corruption, rather than trying to purify it directly.
Nick’s lips curled into a faint smile. He suspected his grandfather would have approved.
The rest of the evening passed in a wary calm.
Willow reinforced the wards while the other apprentices scouted the area, and Nick pretended to rest for a while longer, tracking their movements instead, but couldn’t find any suspicious behavior.
He conjured some water, washed himself with it after heating it up, and started making dinner before settling into his bedroll.
When sleep finally came, it was shallow and restless, but after everything that had just happened, he felt he could be forgiven for being a little paranoid.
Still, the night did not bring another attack, with only the echo of howls sounding from a distance, and at dawn, Nick rose before anyone else, sensing something in the distance.
He stretched and breathed with the [Stalking Gait] until his channels felt clear and ready to cast, then opened his senses outward to check what had woken him.
Two presences were approaching, but for once, it wasn’t monsters.
People. People I’m familiar with, at that.
Nick’s eyes narrowed as he watched them move through the canyon. They were limping and battered but still alive.
How convenient for them to show up now.
He turned back to the camp. “Up,” he called out, projecting his voice outward.
Raphael was immediately by his side, having been on lookout duty. Willow jerked upright, while Malik and Yvonne quickly scrambled out of their blankets.
Nick raised a hand toward the canyon mouth. “We have two people incoming, and I recognize their signatures.”
Malik froze, and Yvonne’s face went blank, not letting herself hope.
Then, as the two figures crested the final bend and stumbled into view, something broke in both of them at once.
Malik exhaled a ragged gasp, and Yvonne made a sound that could have been a laugh or a sob. She lunged forward but caught herself, seeming afraid to be disappointed by hope again.
The two missing adventurers looked worse than a goblin, which is saying a lot. One carried a sling made from torn cloth, while the other’s face had bruises, a split lip, and sunken eyes.
They raised their hands when they saw the fortifications, and then higher when they saw the drawn weapons.
“Do what you need to make sure it’s us,” Ord rasped. “Please. We are done running.”
Nick moved closer, stopping after a few steps. He used [Empyrean Intuition] to scan for signs but found no collar residue, psychic threads, or foreign constructs. Their minds were frayed and exhausted, yet still their own.
And yet, there was something not quite right.
It wasn’t magic, of that much he was sure, but something in their emotional cadence didn’t match the relief on their faces. It was subtle enough that he might have missed it if he had been less paranoid, yet with the new awareness granted to him by Yesod, he could sense it clearly enough to know it wasn’t his imagination.
They might just be resentful that they weren't pursued after too much time had passed, and this might be them trying to hide it.
Nick smiled faintly, and the expression was polite enough to pass muster.
“Come on in,” he said as he welcomed them, making a mental note never to lose track of them.
The camp greeted them with a wave of exhausted relief. Malik gripped Ord’s shoulder tightly enough to make the man wince. Yvonne’s hands shook as she reached for Tessa, and her eyes shone with something she would deny later if anyone mentioned it.
Nick stepped back and let the reunion happen, unable to enjoy the moment. Maybe it was that Monte’s talk had made him paranoid, or maybe it was some old-fashioned resentment among the team of adventurers that he was just now noticing. But he suspected that the dungeon, House Hone, and the shadow war happening around them wouldn’t keep him waiting long to find out what it was about.
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