The rain had long since ceased, leaving the valley soaked and glistening under the faint shimmer of the moon. Water trickled down the jagged cliffs, forming silver veins across the dark stone. Luciel moved silently between the rocks, his figure melting into the shadows as if born from them.
He had been following the winding path that led through the mounds for some time when he came upon a towering slab of stone jutting from the ground like a giant's spine. Without hesitation, he drew a thin thread of spider silk from his palm, fastened it to the rock, and vaulted forward, landing soundlessly on the other side.
From the higher ground, the entire valley unfolded before him—a crescent-shaped basin surrounded by hills. The moonlight caught on damp stone, revealing faint trails and flickering torchlight from below. Luciel crouched low, observing, the faint shimmer of his Mimicry Stealth cloaking him in the environment's texture.
He whispered to himself, "So that's how it's arranged."
From this vantage point, the thieves' base was more elaborate than he'd imagined. Three hills stood at the heart of the valley—the two outer ones connected to the central peak by narrow suspension bridges that swayed lightly in the mountain wind. The central hill was where the bandit leader, Bloodbeard, made his home. Every route toward it was guarded like a fortress.
To reach that hill, Luciel would have to pass through one of the flanking hills, climb to their summits, and then cross the hanging bridges. Each entrance, however, was crawling with guards.
He counted in silence—two, four, eight… twenty men at a single gate. Patrols moved in teams, torches flickering like fireflies as they circled the perimeter. Even at this distance, he could see how disciplined they were.
Luciel exhaled slowly. "Well, I'll give them that—the guard's tighter than I expected."
He could infiltrate with his stealth ability, perhaps slip through the cracks unnoticed, but there was a problem. To reach the interior chambers, he'd need someone on the inside to open a passage or create a distraction. Without that, getting through the reinforced entrances would take precious time—and time was something he didn't have.
Bloodbeard could return at any moment.
Luciel's eyes narrowed as he studied the slopes again. "Forget it," he murmured, the corners of his mouth curling into a grin. "Better to climb straight up from the outside."
It was risky—reckless, even—but it would save him hours. Instead of slipping through the main entrances, he'd scale the central hill directly, bypassing the guards entirely.
He descended the ridge and ghosted toward the foot of the central hill, his steps almost soundless. The air here was heavy with damp earth and the faint tang of iron. When he reached the base, he crouched again and waited, watching. His sharp eyes caught the faintest flicker of movement—a glint of steel in the torchlight.
"Hidden sentries," he thought grimly.
Luciel signaled with his hand, and from his sleeve crept the Red Ghost Spider, its legs delicate as wire. "Take care of them."
The spider darted forward into the darkness. Minutes passed, and soft clicks echoed in the night—then silence. One by one, the secret sentries fell without a cry.
Luciel gave a low whistle. "Cautious bastard," he muttered. "You've hidden watchers even in the shadows."
He straightened and beckoned quietly. "Skink—come out."
From behind a rock, a creature slithered forward—a three-colored lizard, sleek and muscular, its scales glimmering faintly in the low light. It rubbed its snout against Luciel's palm, emitting a low hiss.
Luciel smiled faintly and patted its head. "You'll have your reward later, little one. I'll give you something to help you evolve. But for now, we work."
"Hisss…" The tricolored lizard tilted its head as though confused.
Luciel chuckled softly. "You'll understand soon enough. Come—let's move."
With a flick of his wrist, he shot another strand of spider silk toward the cliff face. It stuck fast with a sharp shhk. Luciel gripped it, testing the tension, then began to climb. The Red Ghost Spider scuttled ahead, the lizard following below him, its claws scraping lightly against stone.
The climb was steep—at least one hundred and fifty meters, the equivalent of a thirty-story building. The rock face was uneven, slick in places where rainwater still trickled down. Luciel moved with deliberate care, his body shifting fluidly, his breathing steady. Every few meters, he drove another thread of silk into the stone for safety.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been climbing when he finally noticed the air thinning and the wind growing colder. The top was close now. He slowed, pressing himself flat against the rock, careful not to let a pebble fall.
Silence reigned. No shouts, no alarms. Just the whisper of the wind and the faint, distant call of a night bird.
When Luciel finally pulled himself over the edge, he froze. The summit wasn't bare stone as he'd expected—but a structure.
A wooden dome stood there, massive and curved, like half an enormous sphere resting atop the mountain. Light flickered through the cracks in its planks, glowing orange from within.
"What is this?" Luciel murmured. The craftsmanship was crude but sturdy, built with thick beams. He circled slowly, running a gloved hand over the damp wood. The dome wasn't small—easily large enough to house a dozen people.
Then a thought struck him.
Could this be Bloodbeard's private quarters? Or his treasure vault?
Luciel's pulse quickened. "It's possible," he whispered to himself. If so, there was no way to simply barge in. If someone was inside and caught him forcing the door, his mission would end right there.
He prowled around the structure, seeking any gaps or weak points. Only small slits existed between the boards—barely enough to see through. Just as he prepared to climb higher for a better look, voices echoed faintly from within.
"Father's gone out," said one voice, sharp and impatient. "That means I'm in charge."
A second replied, firm and wary. "No one enters without the boss's permission."
"Oh, stop it. I'm just going in to fetch some water."
"Boss Bloodknife, you know your father's temper. Don't make this harder for us."
"Don't use my father to threaten me!"
There was a loud crack—the unmistakable sound of a door being struck.
"Damn you!" someone shouted. Then silence.
Luciel's lips curved upward. Bloodbeard's son, is it?
And apparently, even he's forbidden from entering this place. That could only mean one thing.
"There's something valuable in there," he thought, eyes glinting.
He shot another thread of spider silk, climbing lightly up the curved dome until he reached the top. There—he saw it—a long, narrow gap running almost the entire length of the structure. It was nearly ten meters long and wide enough, at its broadest point, for a man to slip through.
"Now that's interesting," he whispered. "Why would there be a gap this large?"
Caution took over. Luciel didn't enter immediately. Instead, he gestured to the Red Ghost Spider, which scurried through the opening without a sound. A few moments passed. Nothing. No movement. No sound of alarm.
Luciel exhaled and followed, lowering himself silently through the gap with the help of his silk.
The air inside was cooler, and it smelled faintly of soil and wood. When his feet touched the floor, he crouched instinctively, taking in his surroundings.
The interior was far larger than expected. The hilltop had been hollowed out—a hidden chamber carved into the mountain itself. The dome above acted merely as a movable lid, letting in air and light when opened.
Underfoot, Luciel felt a square wooden panel—an access hatch that led downward. That must have been where the quarrel earlier had taken place.
He stepped aside and glanced upward again. His sharp eyes caught the faint outline of metal brackets, thick ropes, and gears embedded in the framework. Then it clicked.
"A retractable roof," he realized, quietly impressed. "So that's why there's a gap. It opens and closes."
He smiled to himself. "Bloodbeard, you're full of surprises."
Then something else caught his attention—a patch of color amid the dim interior. Green.
Luciel blinked, his eyes adjusting. All around him, small garden plots stretched across the floor—neat squares of soil, each holding tender shoots of green. Dozens of them. Living plants.
For a moment, he just stared.
He hadn't seen true greenery since arriving in the Nine Heavens Wasteland—a world of decay and ruin, where even grass struggled to grow. Yet here, hidden under a wooden dome, life flourished.
He knelt beside one of the plots, brushing his fingers over a broad leaf. "Cabbage?" he murmured. The faint, fresh scent confirmed it. "It really is cabbage."
He rose, walking deeper into the chamber. Wooden shelves lined the walls, holding baskets of round, red fruit and others still ripening on the vine. He couldn't help but grin. "Tomatoes. You've even got tomatoes, old man."
His eyes swept to a shadowed corner where a few small shrubs grew. Their leaves were narrow, a soft green with a familiar shape. He crouched again, smiling in quiet wonder. "And tea trees. You've been busy."
It wasn't just food. It was cultivation—an attempt to recreate a fragment of the old world, before the wasteland consumed everything. A strange tenderness settled over him.
But not everything thrived. Some of the plants were wilted, their leaves browned and brittle. Luciel examined them closely. "Why keep these dying ones?" he muttered. "You could easily replace them."
Then the realization came to him.
"They must be rare," he thought. "Too precious to waste. He's trying to save them."
He stood in silence for a moment, surrounded by the faint hum of the enclosed space. The soft rustle of leaves in the still air made it feel like a sanctuary, hidden above the chaos of the bandit world below.
Luciel allowed himself a faint smile. "Bloodbeard, you're not just a thief—you're a collector. And maybe a dreamer."
He turned his gaze toward the wooden hatch on the floor—the one that led downward, toward whatever treasure or secret Bloodbeard guarded even from his own son.
Luciel's pulse quickened again.
Whatever lay beneath that door, he intended to find out.