Chapter 3 Adventurers

Nidhogg led Lilith to the tail of the line, her mood cool as moonlight; the Black Dragon rippled her scales into light armor, a helm weathered like a storm-beaten cliff.

Lilith wore a plain black gown with an elegant cut, a blue-white cloak like sky after snow; stiletto heels clicked like sleet, scrolls hugged to her chest.

She tucked herself against Nidhogg like a nesting sparrow; the pose said pampered scholar, the shadow behind her said bodyguard carved from night.

They melted into the rear of the queue like ink in water; no one really looked, a lantern-lit river of backs flowed past.

Most parties were adventurers guarding scholars, so they didn’t stand out; only two women together was a rarer leaf on this tree of steel.

But at one meter ninety, Nidhogg towered like a black pike in reeds; no one dared test her, her scarred armor spoke like claw-marks on slate.

People in front parted like grass before wind; a path opened, and the two walked toward the checkpoint, their steps steady as drumbeats.

“Guild permits out, now!” the human at the table barked, voice like a cudgel; “No permit, no pass. You die inside the Grand Mausoleum, we get docked.”

Anxiety pricked first; Little White Dragon edged close to Nidhogg, brows knotted like knuckled rope. “We don’t have permits. Will they send us back?”

“Don’t worry,” Nidhogg’s calm was bedrock under tide. “They only lose wages if you die. We won’t. The Undead can’t kill a dragon.”

“But how do you prove that?” Lilith whispered, breath thin as mist. “You won’t fight them here, right?”

“Why not?” Nidhogg’s smile flashed like a drawn blade. “Sometimes violence is the best tool.”

“Y-You’re joking… right?” Cold sweat crawled like ants down Lilith’s spine; her eyes widened, voice trembling like a reed in rain.

Nidhogg only smiled, silence a sheathed sword; Lilith pinched her sleeve, trying to wring out dread like water from cloth.

“Next, next!” The orc shooed away two fledglings like sparrows from a granary; underage kids, stolen gear and forged papers, caught and tossed.

The human guard shook his head, lifted his helm; golden hair spilled like sunlight in night, a Kingdom color that glowed even under torches.

Lilith saw the Kingdom in the set of his jaw, and doubt drifted like smoke; why was he working out here at the world’s edge?

Maybe he’d lived long with the Taint, learned to handle Moonswallow Mist; the Guild pulled him here like a net draws in a seasoned fish.

They stepped to the table. The man didn’t lift his eyes, voice flat as a dead ember. “Permit.”

“We don’t have Grand Mausoleum papers. Maybe this works.” Nidhogg set a small black badge down, dark as a crow’s feather.

Lilith couldn’t untangle its etched labyrinth, but the orc blinked, pupils tightening like a snare. “A Special Transit Emblem? That was discontinued.”

“Got it decades ago,” Nidhogg said, tone level as a plumb line.

“I understand you’re strong, but that emblem’s invalid,” the blond human recited, a rulebook in human skin. The orc muttered in his ear like a low drum.

“And look—you’re guarding a scholar,” he added, palms up like scales. “Even strong people fail to shield in chaos. If she’s harmed, we lose our posts.”

“Unless the scholar’s strong herself, which is—”

“White Holy Maiden?” His voice cracked like thin ice; he stared at Lilith, stunned.

“?” Surprise hit first; Lilith blinked, a bird startled from branch. Horns and blue eyes weren’t the girl she’d been; she hadn’t thought anyone would know.

“It’s really you!” He jolted up, joy bright as flares; he reached for a handshake, and Nidhogg pulled Lilith behind like a tide swallowing a candle.

Killing intent bled from the Black Dragon like frost over glass; the man flinched, realized his folly, and sat, cheeks burning like embers.

“Sorry, sorry. I got carried away,” he said, guilt heavy as wet wool. He produced a little notebook like a passport. “I’m Ed. Born in the Kingdom capital.”

“I became an adventurer to survive,” he went on, heartbeat thudding like drums. “Meeting you, my lady, I forgot myself. Punish me if you must.”

“I don’t mind.” Lilith’s confusion sighed first, then words followed like rain. “How did you recognize me? I’ve changed so much.”

She touched her horns, gestured at her now-blue eyes; the mirror didn’t match the memory, and that ache sat like a pebble in her shoe.

“Ah, you haven’t returned since slaying the Demon King,” Ed said, face lighting like dawn. “So you don’t know. The king told the whole capital.”

“He held a grand funeral for heroes lost, steles rose like a forest; he said you altered your body to hold back the Taint like a dike checks flood.”

“He raised monuments, compiled legends until they flowed like a river,” Ed said, pride ringing like bronze. “We all know you became of dragon blood.”

“But even so, you’re still the idol of mankind.”

“Enough. Please—enough.” Dread puddled first; Lilith cut him off, head buzzing like hornets. She could already see streets of statues and stories like weeds.

Her future looked like a tunnel without a lamp; the thought made her scalp crawl like winter wind through reeds.

“Wait. If he just described me, how did sculptors carve me?” Lilith frowned, doubt like grit under tongue. “A king’s words can’t match my face.”

“You’re right. The first statue barely looked like you,” Ed admitted, wincing like at sour wine. “Then photos came from the Dragon Territory.”

“Except a month’s gap, we get weekly photos compiled into booklets,” he said, hands sketching a stack like a brick of paper. “Bestsellers in the capital.”

“Photos…” Color drained from Lilith like water from a cup; a slow dread bloomed, heavy as storm-cloud.

She remembered how Nidhogg loved to take her picture, shutters like cicadas; whenever she asked why, the answer drifted to Tartaros.

“Nidhogg…” grievance steamed off her like heat over snow; she raised her right hand, the pink blade on its back glowing like a fallen star. “Explain.”

“I only sent photos to Lady Tartaros,” Nidhogg said, voice even as slate. “I didn’t sell anything to the Kingdom. Don’t vent at me.”

“Most likely Lady Tartaros mailed them to your former guardian,” she added, logic stacking like stones. “It’s fair to report your well-being.”

“What the Kingdom does with them isn’t mine to decide.”

“Ugh…” A small, broken sound slipped from Lilith, soft as a wounded bird. Powerlessness pooled; she sagged like a damp banner.

“With the Kingdom… it’s just idol worship, right?” she asked Ed, breath thin as a thread.

“It’s already more!” Pride rose in Ed like a banner catching wind. “With the Taint receding, travel opened; our theologians went to Kuri and Eden Garden.”

“They learned your body shares blood with Icarus,” he said, eyes bright as coins. “So many now call you a demigod; a new faith is taking shape.”

“Stop. Please.” Lilith cut him short; shame flared first, then escape. She dove into Nidhogg’s cloak like an ostrich to sand, pulling the hood down.

Right there, she decided never to return to the Kingdom; if she kept her head buried, social death couldn’t find her footprints.

“Why is the Adventurers’ Guild running a checkpoint here?” Nidhogg asked, resigned warmth first, then words smooth as smoke. “What changed in the Grand Mausoleum?”

“Fifteen years ago, the Divine Fragment inside awakened,” Ed said, voice turning grave as stone. “It seized the Moonswallow Mist like reins in a rider’s hands.”

“It drew more mist from the ancient tomb-fort and wrapped it like a net,” he said. “All Undead inside fell under its control, like puppets on wet strings.”

“Before their minds drowned, the Undead royal line flung a distress signal outward,” Ed continued, a dying beacon flickering in his tone.

“Neighboring nations passed it to the crumbling Guild Alliance, then fed them staff and steel like kindling to a cold hearth.”

“The Alliance sent an elite team; they vanished like stones into deep water,” he said, the words landing heavy as earth on a lid.

“Then the Guild understood the weight,” Ed went on, jaw set like iron. “They rallied chapters, launched large assaults; first waves broke like surf on cliffs.”

“They failed. So they made it a long war commission, a thorn kept in the ledger,” he said. “To stop greenhorns bleeding out, they set checkpoints like sieves.”

“Only those proven by the Guild can pass,” he added. “Anyone who weakens the Grand Mausoleum’s disaster gets rewarded, like sparks paid in gold.”

“So, countless glory-hungry adventurers swarm like migrating fish,” he said, words rushing, then he winced. “Like the old tales of dragon slayers—uh, sorry.”

“Anyway, like the legends, they come to carve a line in history,” Ed finished, earnest as a vow. “To free the Undead swallowed by Moonswallow Mist from eternal grief.”

“Ah, I went on too long. It’s just a big dungeon you can raid, like a cavern with its mouth yawning in the dark. For safety, there’s a level gate, like a weir sifting stones. Our job’s to boot the under-leveled out, like bouncers at a night door—yeah, that’s the gist, right?” After explaining forever, Ed switched to a tongue the Little White Dragon knew, like slipping into a warm cloak.

Annoyance first pricked like a thorn. “That’s right… how much did Mother tell you?” Lilith poked her small head out of the Black Dragon’s arms, grumbling like a kettle about to sing. The little dragon sighed, a petal-soft breath in cold air. She patted her cheeks where the blush had melted like frost, then wriggled out of Nidhogg’s embrace. “Then the two of us should be high enough level, right?”

“Plenty, plenty.” Ed bobbed his head like wheat in wind, then respectfully opened a path for the black and the white, parting the crowd like a curtain. “If even the White Holy Maiden who cleansed the Taint isn’t enough, then no one under heaven is.”

“Wait.” He stopped Lilith at the edge of her step, his blond hair like a stray sunbeam. He fumbled in his pocket like a squirrel in its burrow and produced a thick little booklet, then pressed it into her hands. “Lady White Holy Maiden! This is our Guild Alliance bestiary for adventurers, a lantern in the dark. You don’t know the Grand Mausoleum’s layout; with this, exploring’s much easier.”

“Ah, thank you.” Lilith’s thanks chimed like a small bell. She flipped through the booklet, pages fluttering like moth wings, then tucked it into her satchel like a bird into its nest.

Before leaving, Lilith carved a feather of ice, a sliver of moonlight, and hooked it to Ed’s armor with a clear, glassy click.

“This feather won’t melt for three days, but keep it chilled, like tending a winter lamp. I didn’t pour much mana in, so it won’t last long,” she warned, voice as cool as snowmelt. “It’s not a good time to sign anything, so take this as a fan perk.”

She finished and, a bit rusty, offered Ed a winter-sun smile, then squeezed out a wink like a firefly in dusk.

“My life’s complete.” Ed clutched his chest as if struck by an arrow of joy, then toppled onto one of the orc brothers beside him like a felled tree, eyes closed and still.