When the city walls ca into view, Gauss felt a flicker of emotion he hadn’t felt in a while.
It wasn’t that life in the villages was bad—just that, objectively, a village couldn’t match a town’s convenience.
This town wasn’t large—smaller even than Grayrock. A plain little place.
They passed through the gate; the clamor washed over them.
“I’m beat—let’s find food first,” Alia stretched.
It had been a month since they’d eaten in a real town. Everyone missed a hot al cooked by a proper chef.
After asking the gate guards, they found a lively tavern.
“Do you have a private room?”
“Yes—this way, please.”
At the sight of the four, the server’s face brightened instinctively; even her voice lifted. Walking ahead, she swayed her hips as if she could feel the gaze behind her.
In fact… Gauss was looking out the window.
It was Alia’s eyes that lingered on the waitress for a beat; a few black lines appeared on her forehead.
Inside the box room, the server smoothed on a gentle smile and murmured, “Here’s the nu—would you like to introduce our specialties?”
She leaned in.
“Thanks, that won’t be necessary—we’ll choose ourselves,” Gauss said politely, taking the nu and, in passing it along to his teammates, angling himself a bit away.
The server sighed inwardly in quiet regret. Seeing Gauss’s slightly cool manner, she looked a little down, but stepped back to the wall to wait while he ordered. Her heart had stirred for once, and she’d lost cleanly.
After they picked their dishes, Gauss handed the nu back. The server quickly left.
“She looked a little heartbroken,” Alia said, teasing, eyes on the doorway.
“Ahem. You’re reading into it.”
“…”
“Who?” Shadow surfaced from her own thoughts, head tilting as she looked between them—she hadn’t followed their little riddle.
“It’s nothing—not important,” Alia waved.
“Alright,” Shadow nodded.
The food ca quickly. They ate heartily. In no ti, only empty plates remained.
Hic.
They all looked satisfied. Country cooking had its charms, but tavern chefs knew their craft; good food was one of life’s easiest pleasures.
“Let’s rest a bit.”
Full and a little drowsy, they wandered the town—“Gold & Silver Town,” as it was called. Now that they looked properly, it felt a touch desolate. Fewer adventurers than usual, too. Given its awkward location—neither here nor there—that wasn’t surprising. Big cities siphoned talent; anyone with drive headed for bustling Sena.
…
After a night’s rest, their spirits were back. Alia took Ulfen, Echo, and the other companions for a walk.
“Brought you breakfast.”
“It’s basically lunch, but thanks,” Gauss said, taking the buns and biting in.
“Anything special about this town?” he asked as he finished the last bite, brushing crumbs from his hands.
Alia poured water for them both and thought aloud: “Quiet little place. I asked the fruit vendor—said it used to be lively here a long ti ago. People flocked in from everywhere: looters, miners working for the pit bosses. Then the vein ran dry and most left. The early miners settled down. There are sealed shafts still—but the rich ore’s gone. Only poor rock remains.”
Gauss listened, piecing together a picture: a resource-poor, declining town.
“Since we’re here, let’s swing by the Guild and see what’s on the board,” he said. Even with a standing internal commission, staying a few days to resupply didn’t break any rules—and they could collect four weeks’ pay.
They tidied up and soon reached the town’s only Adventurers’ Guild. It was livelier here. Unlike any Guild Gauss had seen, this one sat above a tavern—in fact, the tavern was the Guild building, in part.
“Cheers!”
“Another pint!”
They pushed open the heavy door. Ale-sll rolled out. It was noon, but the first floor was packed—so adventurers, so locals. The servers seed to be Guild hires.
“Very down-to-earth,” Gauss murmured—his first ti seeing it run like this. A revenue stream for the local Guild?
They slipped through the noise and climbed to the second floor—the true admin area—where it was quieter. A few adventurers sat in corners, cleaning weapons and talking low; glances slid to Gauss’s tidy, sharp-looking party, then away. In a worn-out town like this, they stood out.
Yellowed contract sheets hung on the wall. Gauss scanned them—nothing suitable—and went to the counter.
“Hello.”
The clerk startled awake, rubbing his eyes. “Welco. Taking a job, turning in, or sothing else?”
“Collecting part of our commission.”
“Part?” He blinked, puzzled—until Gauss produced the internal assignnt docunt. At a glance the format looked odd, then the clerk stiffened, fully awake now: internal Guild work. Not the usual rabble—people who got these had lines to the upper floors.
“Please wait a mont.”
He fished around under the counter—probably pulling the file. “Fifteen gold per person per week… looks like you’ve done four weeks. That’s sixty per person.”
He sucked a breath. Nice money.
“All four weeks?”
“Yes,” Gauss nodded. Money only felt real in a purse.
“Please wait.” With that sum, he needed a superior to confirm.
They waited; the payout went smoothly. Soon they were shown to a private room where the local Guildmaster himself handed over sixty gold each—two hundred and forty total.
The Guildmaster, Jon, was a middle-aged man. Sa rank as Grayrock’s Eberhard on paper—but far more courteous to Gauss, almost as if they were peers. “Brother Gauss, how long will you be in Gold & Silver?”
“We’ll see—maybe two, three days.”
“Have so tea—my treasured red, from the slopes of fad Mount Bepong,” he said, pouring.
Gauss thanked him—and couldn’t help reflecting. From a nobody picked up off the roadside to soone a Guild head ca personally to greet—that was a long road. And more telling—he felt no pressure from the man.
Eberhard in Grayrock had the aura of a level 9 or more; Jon felt like a 6 at best. Sa post, very different power—tied to the size of the town? In theory, at 6 you could test into senior roles; 9–10 were rarer—and often requested transfers to push their path.
They chatted; when Jon heard Gauss wanted to find targets to practice spells on, he suggested an old mine. “Once sealed, the shafts beca a warren—natural nurseries for monsters. If you need practice, have a look—and do Gold & Silver Town a favor by thinning threats.”
Every year, the Guild mustered crews to clear the pits; daily, they posted jobs. But with few adventurers—many retirees—the response was middling. Luckily, the creatures inside weren’t eager to leave; they fought among themselves; and the town had closed mining. The impact was limited. Still, anyone helping would be welco.
After a detailed briefing, the party left the sleepy town that afternoon. The mining past had scarred the land; plants were sparse; soil was blown thin and sandy. Grit stung their faces in the hot wind—felt like a desert.
After an hour of dusty travel, Brennan Mine spread before them—nad for the noble knight who’d once held its charter. The hollowness made the silence ring. Wind howled through dead gantries and collapsed sheds, kicking up sand.
So barren…
“Think we’ll find gold?” Alia asked, eyes shining at the hardpan. She’d been nursing the thought since Jon’s suggestion. “Maybe a nice big nugget.”
“Maybe,” Gauss smiled. They’d just pocketed a fat payout and she was already dreaming of a windfall. He didn’t expect much. If anything big had lain around, the old miners would’ve found it. They were here to kill monsters—to rack counts and variety.
“There should be plenty of kobolds,” Serandur said, scanning the ground—not from cliché, but from fresh tracks and sign.
“Kobolds are fine,” Gauss nodded. Easy kills, usually in numbers—and where there are numbers, there are elites. He hadn’t notched a single kobold elite yet—ti to fix that.
“Shadow—scout, please.”
“Mhm.”
She slipped into the ground and flowed into the pits. The light fell off fast. She moved in silence—at ho in shadow. Inside was more complex than it looked: branching, twisting—like a giant anthill. So tunnels were newly cut. She ghosted past a few small camps, marked them, and slid deeper.
The deeper she went, the more tangled the maze. Suddenly—a drop. She’d just left a side tunnel when the floor vanished. She fell—then flicked herself sideways and rged into the wall, hanging there to look down.
A forest of “mouths” like the one she’d co from ringed a broad space—many branches pouring into a single chamber.
She held her breath, instinctively.
“This isn’t just a monster nursery at all…” she thought, eyes narrowing.
This was a monster undercity.
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