After sending the letter, Zairen lingered, a pause he hadn't allowed himself since arriving. He finally stopped to appreciate his setting.
Kulap Town wasn't just a straight line of buildings; it was a layered landscape. Structures clustered together, driven more by need than planning. The lower levels used stone, while upper floors transitioned to wood, with balconies jutting over the cramped streets. The streets pulsed with life. Merchants hawked goods, their voices mixing, adventurers debated contracts and burly porters strained under heavy crates.
Guild banners hung from posts at intersections. Even though their fabric looked worn, they were well cared for. Each displayed the same emblem Zairen carried, marking Kulap as a hub built on danger, survival, and endless work.
The air here had a weight to it, thicker than elsewhere. It wasn't suffocating, just intensely charged. The town's abundant talent ensured a constant buzz. Zairen could pick out adventurers instantly; by their stances, how their hands instinctively hovered near weapons, and how they scanned crowds without realizing it.
Some looked strong, maybe stronger than him. This realization alone told him Kulap demanded vigilance.
He turned back toward the guild building.
---
The Kulap Adventurer Guild dwarfed the Grayhaven branch. It filled an entire block, its stone exterior crisscrossed with metal bands and old repair marks. The wide doors stood open, spilling noise onto the street.
Inside, the hall was a whirlwind of controlled disorder. Counters lined the front wall, each handling different tasks like registration, disputes, and mission verification. Notice boards covered the walls, filled with postings sorted by rank and region. Runners weaved between desks, carrying papers and tokens.
Zairen made his way to the central reception desk.
The woman behind the counter gave him a quick, assessing look. She had short, neat black hair and wore a plain guild vest.
"Yes?" she asked.
"I want to transfer my guild branch to Kulap," Zairen said.
"Name?"
"Zairen Crow."
She nodded, holding out her hand. "Token."
Zairen focused, and the guild emblem rose from his palm, solidifying into a familiar plate. He put it on the counter.
She picked it up, tapped it against a small crystal in the desk, and watched as its surface glowed.
"Grayhaven registration," she said. "Upper E-rank. Recent."
She looked at him again, a beat longer this time.
"Physical profile leaning," she added, reading. "Low mana."
"Yes."
"No problems," she said. "Transfer approved."
She returned his token.
"You're registered under Kulap as of today. Missions here follow regional priority. If you work outside Kulap's zone, report it correctly."
"I understand."
She paused. "Lodging fills up fast. The Outer Ring is cheaper, though noisy."
"That's okay."
Her lips twitched slightly. "It usually is."
He stepped away from the counter.
---
Finding a place to stay proved easier than he expected.
The Outer Ring lived up to its reputation. Inns were crammed together, and the air smelled of cooking oil and sweat. Adventurers constantly came and went, some weighed down with gear, others with injuries.
Zairen chose a small, narrow inn wedged between two larger ones. The room was basic—a bed, a table, a window overlooking an alley—but it was clean.
He paid for several days upfront. Routine was important.
Once settled, he returned to the guild and stood before the mission boards.
The difference from Grayhaven was instantly clear.
There were many more postings here, with a higher concentration of difficult tasks. D-rank missions filled entire sections. Some had been marked out and re-posted multiple times.
Zairen scanned the boards carefully.
He ignored anything involving caravans, towns, or prolonged contact with people.
Then he saw it.
A gathering mission.
Target: Lowland Moonleaf
Location: Shallow dungeon outside Kulap
Notes: Grows near entrance. No deep exploration needed.
Threat Level: Low. Estimated monster count 5–10.
Perfect.
He took the notice and returned to the receptionist.
She processed it silently, imprinting the mission on his token.
"Complete and report within three days," she said. "Standard payment."
Zairen nodded and turned to leave.
---
The dungeon entrance was a short distance from the city, carved into a rocky rise, half-hidden by bushes. There were no guards or barriers, just a dark opening inviting entry.
The dungeon opened up quickly.
After a short descent, the narrow passage widened into a broad chamber, shaped more by time than design. The ceiling felt low but not oppressive. Jagged stone ribs lined the walls, uneven and scarred, as if something had clawed its way through long ago never to return.
The ground sloped gently downward.
Wide and shallow, the kind of place low-level monsters liked: easy to move, easy to escape, easy to die.
Zairen stepped forward without hesitation.
The darkness didn't bother him. His eyes adjusted, tracing the chamber's edges and the branching tunnels that led nowhere. This dungeon was never meant to expand, it was small, with just enough space to exist and to feed.
A faint rustling echoed ahead.
He ignored it.
Zairen reached the chamber's edge and turned toward the entrance.
The opening looked smaller from inside.
Light spilled through it in a thin wedge, stretching across the stone floor before fading into shadow. Dust motes danced in the beam, disturbed by his breath.
He stood there for a moment, then began to move.
The rock was bigger than it appeared.
Half-buried, with rough edges, its weight settled deep into the earth. It seemed older than the dungeon itself. Zairen planted his feet, wrapped his hands around its surface, and pulled.
The stone resisted.
His muscles tightened, his back strained. The rock barely shifted, scraping against the ground.
Zairen exhaled sharply and adjusted his grip.
Again.
This time, the stone moved slowly, inch by inch. His boots slid across the dirt as he dragged it forward, the effort warming his limbs. His breathing grew heavier, controlled but deep.
Not difficult, just inconvenient.
Finally, with one last push, the rock slid into place.
The entrance vanished.
Darkness swallowed the chamber completely.
Silence followed.
Zairen stood still, his chest rising and falling, then let out a long breath.
The tension left his shoulders.
For the first time since leaving the dungeon deep below the world, there was no sky above him.
No sunlight, no people, no rules.
He reached for the clasp at his collar, loosened it, and shrugged off his coat. It fell to the ground, carelessly folded against the wall.
The air felt cool against his skin.
Familiar and comforting.
Zairen rolled his neck, working out the stiffness that had built up from days of restraint. His fingers flexed, his nails digging into his palms as his posture subtly shifted.
A slow smile spread across his face.
It was broad and unrestrained, not human.
Somewhere deeper in the dungeon, something moved.
Zairen stepped forward, his bare feet made no sound against the stone.
At last, he could breathe freely.
---