Shit.

  Dain Kattis had made a lot of bad decisions in his thirty-two years of life, but getting caught by a team of mages had to be near the top of the list. What had he been thinking? All that talk about easy pickings in the dungeon, all those rumors about rich academy kids carrying premium gear they barely knew how to use—it had clouded his judgment.

  This year's exam was completely fucked.

  The academy had let too many mage candidates. Normal delvers like his crew never stood a chance against spell-slingers, not in a fair fight anyway. That's why they'd been following this group for the past day, watching from the shadows, waiting for them to exhaust themselves on monsters before making their move.

  The plan had been perfect: approach their camp wounded and desperate, share a meal, slip the poison into their food while telling sad stories, then slit their throats once they were paralyzed. Standard procedure that had worked five times already in other dungeons.

  But then that red-haired bitch had to ruin everything. Sonja. He should have made sure she was dead when they'd ambushed her group. Rookie mistake letting survivors escape, especially ones who could identify you later.

  "You think I came alone?" Dain snarled, frantically scanning the treeline. Where were Kev and the others? They should have moved in the moment he gave the signal.

  The tall armored bastard holding him didn't even flinch. Just kept that iron grip on his shoulder hard enough that he'd have bruises tomorrow. If he lived to see tomorrow. The dagger in his hand suddenly felt pathetically inadequate against what he was facing.

  And then there was this fucking scary blue-eyed kid stared at him with unsettling calm. What kind of kid looked that composed with a potential killer in their camp?

  "Your friends aren't coming," the boy said softly. Not tauntingly, just matter-of-fact. "At least not yet."

  "The hell do you know?" Dain spat, though fear was beginning to replace anger. Something was wrong here.

  The ginger kid with green eyes stood nearby, hands still glowing with prepared magic. He looked nervous, like a dog that's scared but will still bite if pushed. The auburn-haired girl simply watched, calculating, probably already figuring out how much his gear was worth.

  And then there was the big one. The bearded healer. All protective over that red haired woman, standing between her and Dain like some kind of shield. Dain had seen enough healers in his time to know this one was different. The way he carried himself, the scars on his arms that didn't come from mixing potions.

  Military. Had to be. Those were soldier's eyes.

  "We know you've been following us for a while," the blue-eyed kid continued. "We know there are at least four others in your party. We know they're positioning themselves for an ambush right now."

  Dain felt his mouth go dry. How the hell did they know all that? His crew had been careful, keeping their distance, using cover...

  The kid tilted his head slightly. "Did you really think we wouldn't notice? John here detected your heat signatures hours ago."

  The armored guard – John – tightened his grip, and Dain felt something crack in his shoulder. He bit back a scream, suddenly very aware of how precarious his position was.

  "Adom," the ginger kid said. "We should move. If they're out there—"

  "They are," Adom replied, those blue eyes never leaving Dain's face. "But they won't attack while we have their leader."

  Leader? Dain almost laughed. He wasn't the leader. His brother Kev was. But these kids thought they'd caught the boss, which meant they'd be watching him instead of looking for the real threat. Maybe this could still work out.

  "You're making a mistake," Dain tried again, forcing desperation into his voice. "I told you, I was looking for help—"

  "Stop," Adom cut him off. "You're embarrassing yourself."

  The casual dismissal from a child sent a wave of rage through Dain, but he swallowed it down. Rage wouldn't help him now. Especially if the child was a mage. Survival first, revenge later.

  "You plan to poison us," the auburn-haired girl said suddenly. "Your left pocket. The vial."

  Dain froze. How could she possibly know that?

  "Cassandra has an eye for details," Adom explained, as if reading his thoughts. "She noticed you touching that pocket repeatedly while talking."

  The armored guard's free hand moved to Dain's pocket, extracting the small crystal vial with practiced efficiency. The movement was almost mechanical, unnervingly precise.

  "Paralytic?" the healer asked, studying the liquid through the crystal.

  "Mixed with dreamshade," Cassandra confirmed. "Slows the heart until it stops. Untraceable in food. I heard gankers used that a lot."

  Dain felt sweat breaking out on his forehead despite the cool night air. This was going very, very badly.

  "Sam," Adom said to the ginger kid, "send a message for support. Let them know we have gankers here."

  The kid – Sam – nodded, hands shifting through a complex pattern as he prepared what had to be a communication spell. Great. Just great. The baby mage could do long-distance messaging.

  "This isn't personal," Dain tried, switching tactics. "It's just business. The exam's brutal this year. Not enough resources to go around."

  "It felt personal when you called Sonja a bitch," the healer growled.

  "And when you and your friends slaughtered her party," Adom added, his voice still eerily calm. "Was that just business too?"

  Before Dain could answer, a blue light shot from Sam's hands, arcing into the forest like a living thing.

  "Message sent," Sam said, looking pleased with himself. "Should make them come soon enough."

  "What did you tell them?" Adom asked.

  Sam grinned, and Dain suddenly felt much, much colder. "That we have the leader of a ganker party, that we know exactly where they are, and that we're all very, very angry mages with full mana pools and a distinct lack of mercy."

  "You're bluffing," Dain said, though he wasn't so sure anymore. "You're just kids."

  "Kids with magic," Sam replied cheerfully. "You ever seen what happens when a force bolt hits someone in the face? It's not pretty. Kind of... splattery."

  Dain had seen it, actually. Once. Some poor bastard in the Verdant Zone last year. There hadn't been enough left of his head to identify him.

  "You'd be executed for killing other exam-takers," Dain said, grasping at straws now.

  "Self-defense," Cassandra replied flatly. "We have a witness who can identify you as the gankers who attacked her party. We have your poison vial. We have every right to defend ourselves."

  Dain looked from face to face, seeking any sign of uncertainty or hesitation. The healer was openly hostile, the auburn-haired girl coldly practical. Sam seemed almost excited at the prospect of violence, which was concerning in its own way.

  But it was Adom who truly terrified him. The boy stood perfectly still, those blue eyes calculating. Seriously, what the hell was wrong with that kid?

  "Three mages," Dain said finally, his voice hoarse. "Who the hell tracks a party with three mages?"

  "Someone very stupid," Sonja spat from behind Yann.

  "Or very desperate," Adom corrected softly. "Which is it? Stupid or desperate?"

  Dain's mind raced. This was not how it was supposed to go. This was-

  A distinctive bird call sounded from the forest – Kev's signal that they were in position.

  Adom smiled slightly. "Ah. Your friends are ready."

  He turned to the others. "Formation two, but with the prisoner. Sam, shield Cassandra. Yann, please keep Sonja down."

  The camp erupted into motion, everyone moving with practiced coordination. The armored guard dragged Dain backward, positioning himself between Dain and the forest. The others formed a tight defensive circle, with Adom now in the center, hands already weaving a complex pattern.

  Blue light began to gather between his palms, growing brighter by the second. The air around him seemed to warp, like heat shimmer on a summer day.

  "Tell your friends," Adom said without looking at Dain, "that if they attack, you die first."

  Dain believed him. The power building in the boy's hands wasn't for show – he could feel it raising the hairs on his arms from several feet away.

  "Kev!" he shouted into the darkness. "Stand down! They know we're here!"

  Silence answered him. Then rustling from multiple directions – his crew repositioning, probably.

  "Don't be stupid!" Dain called again, real fear in his voice now. "They're all mages! They'll fry us!"

  More silence. Then a voice called back from the darkness:

  "Let him go and we'll leave you alone!"

  Adom's face remained impassive. "You don't understand your situation. We know who you are now. We know your patterns. If you run, we'll track you down one by one. We won't sleep until every one of you is dead." His voice was terrifyingly calm. "Your only chance is to surrender now. At least that way, you'd still have a chance in trials once we're out."

  The blue glow between his hands intensified.

  "Ten."

  Wait...what was he doing?

  "Nine." More heat from his hands.

  Oh no...

  "Kev, for fuck's sake!" Dain shouted. "They're serious!"

  "Eight. Seven."

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  "Y-you're outnumbered," a different voice hissed from the forest.

  "Six. Five."

  "Mages can take down twice their number," someone else replied.

  "Four."

  There was more light. Even more heat. He was really going to do it. That kid was about to fucking blow his head off.

  "Three."

  "Kev! Please!"

  "Two—"

  "Alright!" Kev's voice rang out. "Alright. We're coming out. No weapons drawn. Don't... don't do anything hasty."

  Adom didn't respond, the spell still pulsing between his hands, ready to be released.

  Shadows moved at the edge of the camp, and Dain finally let himself breathe. Maybe they'd all survive this night after all.

  But as his crew slowly stepped into the firelight, hands raised, he caught Kev's eye and saw something that made his stomach drop.

  A tiny nod. A signal.

  They weren't surrendering.

  They were just buying time.

  In an instant, his crew tensed, hands moving toward concealed weapons. The false surrender was about to become a slaughter.

  "Now," Adom said quietly.

  Three things happened so quickly that Dain's brain struggled to process them:

  First, a blinding web of blue light erupted from Sam's outstretched hands, expanding outward like lightning frozen in time. It caught two of Dain's crew—Meera and Jost—before they could even reach their weapons.

  Second, Yann's hands slammed together, and golden tendrils shot from the ground beneath the remaining gankers' feet, wrapping around their legs and climbing upward.

  Third, Adom's spell—the one Dain had thought was meant for his head—transformed into dozens of shimmering chains that whipped through the air with impossible precision.

  "What the—" was all Kev managed before he was completely encased in glowing bindings.

  The entire ambush had been neutralized in less than three seconds.

  "Are you crazy?" Dain hissed, staring at his brother's struggling form. "Why the hell did you do that?!"

  None of his crew could move. Some were suspended entirely off the ground, cocooned in magical restraints that seemed to tighten with every attempt to break free.

  Their healer was already moving from captive to captive, pressing his palm against each of their foreheads. A brief flash of light, and they went limp, eyes rolling back.

  "Just unconscious," the healer explained when he caught Adom looking. "They'll wake up with the worst headache of their lives, but no permanent damage."

  Dain couldn't believe what he was seeing. His brother and four hardened criminals—veterans of a dozen dungeons—taken down without even landing a single blow.

  "This is impossible," he muttered. "You're just kids."

  "Again. Kids with magic," Sam reminded him, wiggling his fingers. The blue bindings around Meera and Jost pulsed in response.

  Adom walked among the captured gankers, counting. "One, two... six total, including our friend here. Is that all of them?" he asked, turning to Dain.

  Something had changed in the boy's demeanor. He seemed... taller somehow. More imposing. Or maybe that was just Dain's fear playing tricks on his eyes.

  "Y-yes," Dain stammered, not even considering a lie. What would be the point? "That's everyone."

  Adom sighed deeply, and all at once, he looked like a kid again. The spell chains around his hands dissipated, and his shoulders slumped slightly.

  "Thank God," Sam said, relief washing over his face. "I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep up that binding."

  The tension in the air evaporated so suddenly that Dain felt dizzy from the change.

  "Dude. You gotta give a heads up before pulling something like that! I didn't understand what you were doing at first," Sam continued, turning to Adom. "When you started that countdown, I thought you were actually going to blast him."

  "Blasting would have been messy," Adom replied matter-of-factly. "And unnecessary if we could get them all in one place."

  Cassandra approached, studying the unconscious gankers. "This is much better than fighting them in the dark with monsters around."

  Dain's jaw dropped as the realization hit him. "You were bluffing? All that shit about knowing we were following you?"

  "Not entirely," Adom said. "A wounded guy shows up right after we finish a difficult fight? Classic ambush setup. Plus, Sonja already told us about your scar and tactics. The rest was just educated guessing."

  "But the heat signatures—"

  "John's just observant," Sam snorted. "He's our tank, not some magical scanner."

  John gave a small wave at the mention of his name. The tank hadn't spoken a single word during the entire confrontation.

  "Wait, that message you sent?" Dain asked, turning to Sam. "The one calling for backup?"

  Sam grinned. "There's no magic used to communicate like that. That was just a light show to freak you out." He wiggled his fingers. "Pretty convincing, right? You totally got got."

  "An-and that story about the poison?" Dain asked, turning to Cassandra.

  She shrugged. "I know about gankers' poison because I read. A lot. Your constant fidgeting with your pocket was suspicious, but I didn't know for certain what was in it."

  "You played us," Dain said, the humiliation burning worse than any physical pain. "You fucking played us!"

  "We adapted," Adom corrected. "We worked with what we had."

  "And it worked!" Sam added with a grin that made Dain want to punch him. "God, your face when Adom started counting down! You looked like you were about to piss yourself!"

  "Fuck you," Dain spat. Then, to no one in particular: "FUCK!"

  His outburst echoed through the camp, emphasized by the stunned silence that followed.

  Sonja stepped forward, her injured leg still causing a slight limp. She examined each of the unconscious gankers, lingering longest on Kev's face.

  "These are them," she confirmed quietly. "The ones who killed my friends."

  Something in her tone made Dain's skin crawl. There was no satisfaction there, just a hollow acknowledgment. Like identifying bodies at a morgue.

  "What happens now?" Yann asked, moving to stand beside her.

  "We'll need to restrain them properly," Cassandra said, practical as always. "We can hand them over to the examiners at the checkpoint."

  "Good thinking," Adom said. "Sam, do we still have those binding cords?"

  "Already on it," the redhead replied, digging through his pack. He pulled out several lengths of sturdy rope with faint runes etched along the fibers.

  Dain watched in silence as they tied up his crew with quick, efficient movements. They worked well together, but nothing extraordinary—just students who'd trained as a team.

  "I never should have followed you people," Dain muttered.

  Adom glanced up from securing a knot. "No," he agreed simply. "You shouldn't have."

  *****

  Haah... haaah...

  "Let's go faster!"

  The dawn of the seventh day found The Dungeon Divers in a desperate sprint.

  "Move!" Adom shouted over his shoulder, barely slowing as he vaulted a fallen log. "We've got maybe thirty minutes!"

  Behind him, Sam panted heavily, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. "This is—" he gasped, scrambling over the same log, "—entirely their fault!"

  He jerked his thumb toward their prisoners. The six gankers stumbled along, hands bound before them with the runed cords, connected to each other in a miserable chain. John brought up the rear, making sure none fell too far behind or tried anything stupid. Again.

  "Less talking," Cassandra called from somewhere in the middle of their ragged procession. "More running."

  "Easy for you to say," Sam muttered. "You're not the one who had to waste half their mana fighting those stupid overgrown scorpions yesterday!"

  It hadn't been Adom's plan to bring the gankers with them all the way to the checkpoint. Originally, they were going to hand them over to the first examiner patrol they encountered. But those patrols had been suspiciously absent, and as the days wore on, they'd been left with no choice but to keep moving with their unwanted companions in tow.

  Five days of absolute hell.

  Five days of constant sabotage.

  Kev, Dain's brother, had been the worst. The first night, he'd managed to work one hand free and nearly strangled Sam in his sleep. Then there was Meera with her hidden lockpicks. Twice she'd almost escaped. And Jost... well, Jost had perfected the art of tripping at exactly the wrong moment, like when they were sneaking past that sleeping stone troll.

  "You're not going to make it!" Dain said. "Not with all of us. The checkpoint closes at dawn."

  "Shut up," Yann growled from where he was helping Sonja negotiate the rough terrain. Her leg had healed enough for walking, but running was still difficult.

  "I'm just saying—"

  "We know what you're saying," Adom cut him off. "And we're not leaving anyone behind. Especially not you gankers."

  "Your funeral."

  Adom ignored him, focusing instead on the path ahead. The forest was thinning, giving way to the rocky terrain that marked the outer boundary of the Talking Mountains. They were close. So close.

  But not close enough.

  Their progress through the dungeon had been frustratingly, infuriatingly slow. Every zone that should have taken half a day had stretched into a full one. The Stone Gardens had been the worst — what should have been a simple six-hour trek had turned into a twenty-hour nightmare thanks to the scorpions that Jost had "accidentally" disturbed.

  Then there was the Whispering Gorge, where they'd lost nearly ten hours searching for Meera after she'd slipped away during a monster attack. They'd found her trying to circle back to their camp to steal their supplies after being wounded by monsters.

  "Next time," Sam had said after they recaptured her, "we tie your shoelaces together too."

  The Forest of Sighs had been almost peaceful by comparison. Just the usual assortment of deadly creatures trying to kill them. The Bone Marshes, though... Adom shuddered at the memory. They'd nearly lost Cassandra to those sink pits.

  "Three hundred and forty-two points," she said now, as if reading his mind. She hadn't stopped calculating their score even while running for their lives. "Not counting the Greater Razorback cores."

  "Add another forty for those," Adom replied, jumping over a narrow stream. "We're well above the minimum."

  "If we make it in time," Sam reminded him unnecessarily.

  They crested a small rise, and there it was — the checkpoint. A stone arch similar to the one they'd entered through, surrounded by a small cluster of guild tents. Even from this distance, Adom could see people moving around, packing up equipment. Preparing to close.

  "There!" he pointed, trying to ignore the way his lungs burned. "Final push!"

  The descent was chaotic. Tired legs and loose stones made for a dangerous combination. Sam slipped twice, saved only by Yann's quick reflexes. Kev actually fell, taking Dain down with him in a tangle of limbs and curses.

  "Get up," Cassandra ordered, not bothering to help them. "Now."

  John hauled them both to their feet with mechanical efficiency. The golem showed no signs of fatigue — unlike literally everyone else.

  "Time check?" Adom called to Sam, who was frantically digging out his pocket watch while trying not to trip.

  "Seventeen minutes!"

  That was cutting it way too close.

  They reached the bottom of the slope and hit flat ground. The checkpoint was maybe half a mile away now. Under normal circumstances, they'd make that easily. But after a week in the dungeon with minimal rest and six prisoners slowing them down...

  "I can't," Sonja gasped, stumbling. Her injured leg finally gave out. "I'm sorry, I can't—"

  Yann didn't hesitate. He scooped her up in a smooth motion, barely breaking stride. "I've got you."

  "But you're already—"

  "I've got you," he repeated, and that was that.

  "Ten minutes," Sam wheezed. "Maybe less."

  "John," Adom called.

  The golem moved up alongside him, shield still in position despite the lack of immediate threats.

  "Take the prisoners," Adom said. "Go ahead. We'll catch up."

  Dain's eyes widened. "Wait, you're sending us with him? Alone?"

  "Would you prefer we leave you here?" Cassandra asked coldly.

  The golem gestured for the prisoners to move faster, giving the rope a firm tug. With John setting the pace, the gankers had no choice but to speed up or be dragged.

  Adom watched them pull ahead, then turned to his team. "Sam, I need a boost."

  Sam knew exactly what he meant. Hands glowing with blue energy, he began the spell. "This is gonna hurt," he warned.

  "Just do it."

  The air around them shimmered as Sam's spell took effect. Adom felt the familiar tingle of speed enhancement magic washing over him, then spreading to the others. It was a costly spell in terms of mana, and it came with a price — muscles pushed beyond their natural limits would protest fiercely later.

  But later was a problem for later.

  "Five minutes," Sam said, his voice strained as he maintained the spell. "Maybe."

  They ran.

  The world blurred around them, the ground seeming to fly beneath their feet. Adom's lungs burned, his legs screamed, but he forced himself to keep going. Behind him, he could hear the others — Sam's labored breathing, Yann's steady footfalls despite carrying Sonja, Cassandra's determined silence.

  Ahead, John was pushing the gankers hard. Dain had fallen again, but the golem simply dragged him back to his feet and kept moving. No time for gentleness now.

  The checkpoint grew larger in their vision. Guild officials were definitely closing down now. The peripheral tents were already collapsed, and someone was walking toward the portal arch with what looked like a deactivation key.

  "HEY!" Sam screamed with whatever air he had left in his lungs. "WE'RE HERE! WE'RE COMING IN!"

  The figure by the arch paused, looking in their direction. Then turned and shouted something to the others.

  "They see us," Adom gasped. "Keep going!"

  John reached the checkpoint first, prisoners in tow. The officials looked surprised at the unusual procession, but quickly moved to help secure the gankers.

  Adom and the others staggered in moments later, Sam's enhancement spell fading as his mana reserves finally gave out. The boy collapsed to his knees, chest heaving.

  "Team... Dungeon Divers," Adom managed between gulps of air. "Checking in."

  A guild official — the same eyepatch-wearing Samson who had sent them off a week ago — approached with a clipboard. "Cutting it rather fine, aren't we?" he said mildly.

  "Technical difficulties," Cassandra replied, somehow still standing. She pulled out their point tally sheet, crumpled but intact. "Three hundred and eighty-two points. All documented."

  Samson's eyebrow rose slightly. "Impressive." He glanced at the gankers, who were being processed by other officials. "And I see you brought friends."

  "Gankers," Yann explained, carefully setting Sonja down on a nearby crate. "Attacked her party earlier in the week. We caught them trying the same with us."

  "Did you indeed?" Samson's expression hardened as he looked at the gankers with new interest. "Well. That's a serious accusation."

  "Check the one with the scar," Adom said, finally catching his breath. "Left pocket. Crystal vial of poison."

  Dain looked murderous, but couldn't deny it when the vial was produced exactly where Adom had said it would be.

  "Dreamshade mix," the official examining it confirmed. "Definitely not standard equipment."

  Samson nodded grimly. "We'll handle them from here." He turned back to Adom. "Now, about your points—"

  "Wait," Sam interrupted, still on his knees but looking up. "Did we make it? Are we officially done?"

  Samson checked his watch. "With exactly two minutes and seventeen seconds to spare." He smiled then, an expression that transformed his stern face. "Congratulations, Dungeon Divers. You've passed the exam."

  The relief was so intense that Adom actually felt lightheaded. They'd done it. Despite everything. They'd made it.

  "We're adventurers now!"

  DEFINITELY be edited some more. I am editing the earlier chapters with your suggestions helping me, and just wanted to say thank you for that, because damn, I have been making a lot of mistakes with the system. I started noting the progression on an excel spreadsheet, so this continuity problem will soon be dealt with.

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