After a flurry of work, the team settled fast, like sand combed by desert wind. The weak were culled. Yet almost no one here counted as weak. In the end, only two or three got sent away.

"Phew. Let’s move." The man had sweated through the morning, like rain on his brow, and wiped his forehead.

Eli stood beside him, holding Edlyn’s hand like a steady anchor in a current. He watched the man stow gear with busy hands and smiled. "Alright, Mr. Eli. Let’s talk. Uh… I never introduced myself, did I?"

He pulled out a scrap of paper to blot sweat, like dabbing dew from a leaf, and straightened his kit. The ingratiating smile vanished. He saluted with his right and offered his left for a shake. "Head of Logistics, Royal City Military Guard. Varna Relov. Thank you for joining us."

Eli blinked at how fast his mask flipped, like a stage actor swapping roles. He sighed and took the hand. "It’s fine. No need to lay it on thick. I don’t care about titles."

"Uh… sure." Varna gave an awkward chuckle, the sound thin as paper.

"May I ask your aim this trip, Mr. Eli? Are you planning to go with this…" Varna’s gaze slid to Edlyn, like scales weighing risk.

"Sister," Eli supplied, his voice calm as a still pond.

Edlyn glanced up at Eli, her eyes cool as moonlight, and kept silent.

"Oh. Got it." The man nodded, like a reed in wind. Travel with a sister? Into a dangerous cavern?

He couldn’t quite parse it. But given the man’s reputation, he held his tongue, like a soldier before a drum.

Maybe he had ways to shield his sister, like a cloak against hail.

Eli saw Varna’s odd look and frowned, like a storm cloud thickening. "Is that a problem?"

"Ah, no. It’s just your sister’s safety," Varna said, his voice hesitant as mist.

"Naturally, I’ll handle it myself." Eli’s brow stayed knit, like bark scored by knives.

"Uh. I spoke out of turn." Varna cursed himself in silence, wanting to slap his own mouth like a noisy drum.

A forty-five-strong column, with Edlyn beside Eli, streamed into the desert like a river of footprints.

"Everyone, the teleportation spell is just ahead," Varna called, pointing at the ring of standing stones like teeth in sand. "We have an archmage-level expert with us. Don’t worry about mishaps."

The crowd stepped into the array. A white blaze swept them, like lightning shorn of thunder, and they stood at the entrance to the ruins.

Eli scanned the door’s carvings, like reading weather in clouds, and frowned. This didn’t feel like a Hero’s relic. Maybe. He hesitated, eyeing the strange images etched on the stone gate.

But adventurers surged forward, a tide of voices pointing at patterns and calling them myths of the Hero defeating the Demon King.

Eli watched their growing fervor and pressed his worry down, like a lid upon boiling water.

Edlyn watched Varna herd the line and lecture about the murals like a tour guide. A sudden giggle fluttered from her lips, light as a sparrow.

Eli bent toward her, warmth in his eyes like sun through leaves. "What’s wrong?"

She pointed at Varna and laughed. "He’s acting like one of those gate-openers."

"He is leading the way anyway, so you’re not wrong." Eli smiled, the curve gentle as a crescent.

Edlyn covered her mouth, but the word meant those who opened city gates when the Demon Race swept the continent. Collaborators who led armies like wolves through the fold.

When danger loomed, they surrendered in a heartbeat, like leaves yielding to frost. Back then, it happened everywhere.

The Demon Race was too strong, a storm beyond walls. Without the Heroes unified and trained, every guard force fought alone, like scattered fires on a plain.

Most alliances were just words in the wind. Few sent real troops to aid, like promises that evaporate at dawn.

In those days, the Demon Race’s iron cavalry crushed great cities within two weeks, like millstones grinding grain. Gate-openers were everywhere.

Some sought safety under occupation, and led Demon forces to flaws in stubborn cities, like rats showing cracks in a granary wall.

When resistance turned tough, they relied on such men to spare their soldiers and topple a perfect city in an instant, like pulling a keystone from an arch.

A tide of old battles surged through Edlyn’s mind, swelling her chest like a storm-tossed sea. The images played and played.

Before her, legions of the Demon Race rose like mountains and rolled like seas, blotting out the sky. Beside her stood the ruling Unification clan and the Demon King’s personal guard, loyal and bright as banners.

She lowered her head. In that vision, she still wore a tall, perfect body, like a statue born of storm. Her fingers found a proud pair of Fiend horns.

She raised a hand, and thousands charged like thunder, smashing a grand human city beneath iron hooves.

She lifted her head and pointed her sword at the sky, a line of light piercing clouds.

Her power was vast enough to make all races tremble, strong enough to challenge the Celestial Gods. Her dread made dragons and giants lower their noble heads and kneel.

She won the Sea Siren clans to sincere submission, and gave the Fallen Angels hope for a new master worth guarding.

Countless beasts ran under her command, tearing proud soldiers apart, and the battle line fell like rotted timber.

A warm hand found her head. Eli’s voice came soft as rain. "You okay?"

Edlyn jolted awake. Cold sweat trickled down her back like meltwater. Her knees went soft, and Eli caught her before she dropped. "You alright?"

"W-what was that?" Edlyn swallowed hard, the taste metallic as blood. That world-dominating feeling still rang in her skull.

But Eli’s warm, steady embrace drew her back like a rope hauling a swimmer from a river.

Eli picked her up like a child, one hand under her hips and one at her back, holding her firm as a tree holds a nest.

Edlyn sat on his arm and looped her arms around his head. "What was that just now?"

"An illusion. Many got hit," Eli said, shaking his head and pointing to the eye-shaped spell circle on the door, wide as a moon.

Bodies lay strewn across the floor, scattered like fallen leaves. The soldiers moved through them, rousing each one with patient voices.

"Good thing you’re here." The youth from the other night came up to Eli and sighed, his breath thin as smoke.

"Mm. It’s fine. Since I agreed to join you, I’ll keep you safe, within what I can do," Eli said, his tone flat as steel.

"Within what you can do, huh?" The youth’s eyes flickered like blades. It was a very interesting answer.

He smiled and offered a hand. "Not friends until we’ve fought. I’m Zack."

"Eli." Eli took the hand and gave it a brief shake.

"Didn’t you send scouts ahead?" Eli pointed at the ward he had shattered, the lines still smudged like ash.

"The crown marked this site for us," Zack said, shaking his head. "We started gathering adventurers. We didn’t study it in detail."

"I’ll offer a word of caution. This might not be a Hero’s relic," Eli said after a beat, the warning cold as shade.

Zack fell silent for a breath, then smiled like a crack in stone. "Thanks. But… we’re soldiers."

"Right. Orders have teeth," Eli said, understanding like dust settling.

"Do you want to send your sister back? If it’s as you say, this could be dangerous," Zack said, concern ringing like a bell.

Eli lowered his head. He didn’t want Edlyn in this storm. Edlyn bit her lip and pouted. "I’m going."

When Eli lifted her, a faint curl of fiendish aura seeped from the sealed stone door, like smoke from a buried ember. It might lead to her old allies. She had to go.

"Uh…" Zack hesitated and looked to Eli, eyes flicking like moths.

Eli sighed. "Relax. She stays glued to me. I won’t let her wander or trigger traps," he said, steady as a wall.

"Mm. That’s good," Zack said, nodding once before turning away, his steps crisp as pebbles.

"Naughty," Eli murmured, pinching Edlyn’s small nose with a helpless smile, like sun touching frost.

Edlyn stuck out her tongue, then realized it looked far too cheeky. She crossed her arms, turned her gaze to the distance, and gave a soft "hmph," like a cat flicking its tail.

The start went poorly. Some adventurers wanted to bail, their courage collapsing like sandcastles. Varna had barely nudged the stone door and the spell knocked everyone flat.

Who knew what worse traps waited ahead, coiled like serpents in the dark.

But others said, riches nest in risk, like pearls in stormy seas.

With guardians this strong, the vault inside had to be priceless, glittering like star-iron.

Varna looked at the fracturing crowd and felt helpless, like a shepherd watching sheep scatter before thunder.

The timid refused to go in no matter what, their fear rooted deep as old trees.

Even if they entered, they might endanger the team, like panicked horses. He had no choice but to let them walk.

By the end, including Eli and Edlyn, the team shrank to thirty, numbers trimmed like reeds.

"Truly… sorry to make you laugh," Varna said as he walked beside Eli, a wry smile thin as paper.

"It’s fine. This happens," Eli said, nodding once, his tone plain as stone.

But the cave pressed a bad feeling on him, like a chill seeping from a well.

A lone stone stood in the desert like a tooth. Clean one face, and a gate appears. The relic seemed buried underground, like a city under roots.

On land gnawed by old magic, building a vast relic felt strange, like weaving silk in a sandstorm.

He thought, I wouldn’t have been that bored in a past life, right? The joke passed like a shadow.

In any case, every clue whispered that this place likely hid something wrong, like a smile with too many teeth.

They passed through the gate. Without someone bracing it, the door slammed fast, like a jaw biting shut.

It felt like a horror flick. A soldier spun and pushed the door, his hand shaking like grass.

Luckily, it opened. A gentle pull showed a slice of the outside world, blue as a distant sea.

That eased everyone a little, like a warm wind grazing winter fields.

"Then, onward," Varna said, pulling out a ruby night-lantern that bloomed like a red star and lighting the path ahead.