In the makeshift infirmary, three injured warriors lay sprawled across the beds—two hobgoblins and one lightning wolf, all of them barely clinging to life.
Their bodies were covered in holes and deep cuts, blood-soaked leaves wrapped around their torsos and limbs. It was nothing short of miraculous that they hadn't bled out entirely on the journey back to camp.
Lyssandra knelt beside them, her keen eyes examining every injury. The wounds were all caused by the same type of weapon—long, deep punctures and slashes consistent with spears or lances. Exactly like her own preferred weapon.
Without hesitation, she summoned three great healing potions, each one glowing with vibrant green energy. She forced them to drink one each, watching as the potent magic flowed through their bodies.
Her eyes tracked the visible knitting of flesh, the sealing of wounds, the restoration of damaged organs. Within moments, the gaping holes and brutal cuts began closing, blood loss stopping, and color returning to their pale skin.
After allowing them time to recover their strength, Lyssandra stood with arms crossed, her expression cold and demanding.
"Tell me what you saw."
The previously injured hobgoblin now healed and sitting up, swallowed hard before reporting.
"Great One… it was humans. They came into the dungeon. We tried to fight back but the one with armor… but they was too fast, too strong. Just one of them outmatched all of us…"
'Only one?' Lyssandra thought, her eyes narrowing skeptically.
"And the number of the enemy?" she asked sharply.
The hobgoblin's face twisted in shame. He glanced sideways at his companion, who refused to meet his eyes, before turning back to Lyssandra.
"There were… two," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. His cheeks flushed dark with embarrassment.
Lyssandra's eyes widened. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she struggled to contain a laugh.
What?! Only two humans and all of you were beaten to within an inch of death?! This is ridiculous!
She couldn't help herself, a short, barking laugh escaped before she regained her composure.
'…or they were really strong and have very high levels to sweep the floor with all of them,' she thought grimly. The idea that mere humans even strong ones could do this much damage to her forces…
This was unacceptable.
This could be a new danger entirely, not from monsters, but from humans, another race dominating this world.
Lyssandra's expression shifted to one of cold calculation. Her fingers drummed against her arm as she considered the implications.
She had to handle this carefully. This would be the first time she'd ever met another human since… well, since she'd transformed into this world.
'I need to investigate this personally,' Lyssandra decided.
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"Young lady, we should leave. This is getting dangerous," the woman in armor warned, her voice steady as she reached up to open her helmet's faceplate.
Behind it, revealed were striking hazel eyes, sharp, vigilant, scanning every shadow for threats even as she spoke. Her expression was stern, etched with the seriousness of battle-hardened experience.
The young woman she was escorting merely scoffed, waving off the concern with a dismissive gesture.
Her voice dripped with arrogance, the kind only someone who had never truly faced death could possess.
"Pfft, it's fine. With you here, monsters are merely toys to your prowess, right, Ysabel?"
Her face was… gorgeous, framed by a striking pair of drill twin-tails made from fiery red hair that spiraled outward dramatically.
Her complexion was pale and flawless, almost ethereal in the dim dungeon light. But it was her eyes that truly caught attention, vivid green pools that seemed to glow with both innocence and defiance.
She was beautiful beyond doubt, with delicate features that suggested nobility and high breeding. Her nose was small and perfectly formed, her lips full and naturally rosy. High cheekbones gave her face an elegant sharpness that softened into something more youthful around the edges.
Yet for all her undeniable beauty… there was something still childish about her expression. The way her eyes flashed with stubbornness, the slight pout of her lips when she was being defiant—these were traits that hinted she was perhaps younger than she wanted people to think.
She stood with her hands on her slender hips, her barely-there breasts straining against the delicate fabric of her luxury dress.
The gown was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, a bold contrast of crimson and white that screamed wealth and status.
The bodice hugged her petite frame with tight, structured boning that pushed her small chest up just enough to be noticeable.
The crimson top half was trimmed with white gold-threaded lace, the intricate patterns forming delicate vines and flowers.
Small, sparkling ruby beads had been sewn into the fabric in strategic locations, catching the torchlight and throwing off pinpricks of red fire.
Below the waist, the dress exploded into layers upon layers of white silk and tulle, the skirts so voluminous they required a small hoop beneath to maintain their impressive spread.
Each layer was subtly different in texture, some smooth and flowing, others ruffled or gathered for added drama. The entire ensemble swished and swayed with every movement, the sound like whispered silk.
Her petite figure looked almost doll-like in such an elaborate dress, yet there was something undeniably rich about how she wore it.
"No, young lady," Ysabel said firmly, her voice laced with concern as she kept her gaze fixed on the dungeon corridor ahead. "I've been to this dungeon before, but I never encountered any kind of evolved monsters like those hobgoblins before. Something is very wrong here."
She turned to face the young girl directly, her hazel eyes meeting those vivid green ones with seriousness.
"I advise we should abandon this dungeon. The thing you want to retrieve can be found somewhere else"
"Absolutely not," the young lady interrupted sharply, her twin-tails swishing with indignation. "This is the closest dungeon I can find, and it's so rundown that even new adventurers don't want to dive in anymore."
Her eyes blazed with stubborn defiance as she crossed her arms over her flat chest.
Ysabel tried again, her expression growing more urgent. "But young lady, if even basic monsters have evolved into"
"Shut up!" Rosalinda snapped, her voice cracking slightly as irritation colored her delicate features. She jabbed a finger toward her guardian. "You are my guard, not my mom! Just do your job and protect me!"
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Lyssandra's lips curved into a wicked smile as she crouched behind a crisscross path behind a stone walls.
"Interesting… what do we have here?" she muttered to herself, her blue eyes gleaming with predatory interest as she activated her scanning skill.
Ysabel… Personal guard. Level 28. Age: 20.
"Her level is so high, no wonder my underlings were demolished by them," Lyssandra mused. The guard was clearly formidable, experienced, dangerous.
And the other…
Her eyes widened with delight.
"OH!! This is getting better and better."
She leaned forward slightly, studying the young woman through the maze's shadows with hungry fascination.
"Rosalinda, Third Princess of the Kingdom of Indyrge… Level: 4, Age: 16."
Lyssandra licked her lips slowly, already planning.
"Let's send appetizer out first… to probe their strength."
The duo's conversation was cut short by the soft padding of footsteps echoing from the dark stone corridor ahead.
Ysabel's movements were instinctive and practiced. "Stand behind me, young lady!" she snapped, her voice muffled as she snapped her helmet's faceplate closed with a sharp CLACK!
Her steel spear gleamed in the flickering light of nearby torches as she took a defensive stance, the shaft spinning through her hands until she gripped it firmly with both gauntleted fists.
She positioned herself between Rosalinda and the approaching threat.
Without allowing them a moment to prepare, two lightning wolves burst from the shadows with explosive speed, one on each side, jaws snapping for Ysabel's throat.
SNICK! SNICK!
The guard's spear moved faster than lightning itself, the steel shaft interposing itself perfectly. The first wolf's fangs scraped against the hardened metal with a shower of sparks.
The second wolf fared no better, its jaws closed on empty air as Ysabel twisted her body mid-strike, using her spear like a barrier.
The lightning wolves quickly reassessed the situation. They couldn't break through Ysabel's defense, so they leapt backward instead.
While mid-retreat, their bodies twisted with supernatural agility. Yellow lightning coalesced around their claws, the air itself seemed to crackle with electricity as two bolts of pure energy shot straight toward their target.
Ysabel anticipated this. Her spear began spinning in her hands at an impossible speed, becoming a blur of steel and motion. Each projectile struck the rotating blade with cracking sounds, lightning sparking wildly before dissipating harmlessly into the air.
"Haaah!" she breathed out, her stance unwavering.
The lightning wolves glanced at each other, then retreated without another look backward, disappearing back into the shadows.
Ysabel stood firm, her back still to the princess, spear at the ready.