[Chapter 102. Morning Orders]
Iris woke from a restless, fragnted sleep, her hand instinctively reaching across the wide mattress only to encounter empty sheets—cool, smooth, and unwelcoming. A soft, involuntary whimper escaped her throat, the small sound swallowed instantly by the oppressive vastness of the room. Her fingers curled into a tight fist, the fine fabric of the bedding bunching beneath her knuckles as the reality of the morning set in. She lingered in the fading warmth of the bed for a mont longer, her mind still fuzzy and sluggish with the remnants of dreams, before forcing herself to rise.
The sun was already well above the distant horizon, painting the sky in a brilliant, cloudless blue that felt almost mocking in its cheerfulness. "Perfect weather to train," she muttered to herself, the words carrying a sharp, bitter edge as she dressed. She pulled on her leather gear, the familiar weight of her Zweihänder settling across her shoulder like a comforting, heavy burden. With a determined, heavy stride that echoed against the stone, she moved over to the center teleporter stone.
Monts later, the world blurred, and she materialized on the ground level of the Tower, inside its vast, high-ceilinged atrium. Her eyes swept across the space with a practiced, assessing gaze, looking for any sign of change. Sothing imdiately caught her attention; in a previously empty corner near on of the main archways, there now sat a small, grim collection of beast parts.
There was a stack of dark, razor-sharp plates that looked like reinforced chitin, still stained with dried, purplish ichor. Beside them lay two curved, obsidian-black, scythe-like blades that seed to hum with a faint, latent energy even in their dormant state. A literal pile of fangs and jagged claws sat nearby—each one a lethal, jagged reminder of so great battle fought and won in the dark. At the sight of the trophies, she rembered Searanox waking her in the dead of night. His voice had been strained and rasping, speaking of sothing urgent—sothing about the portal of the Burrowing Depths turning a malevolent, sickening shade of purple.
She turned her head toward the direction of the forest portal. She knew, with a certainty that transcended logic, that he was still alive. If he weren't, the Guild—his Guild—would have ceased to exist the mont his heart stopped. The thought was a cold, clinical comfort, serving as a fragile shield against the rising tide of panic that threatened to overwhelm her.
Still, the need to see it for herself was an itch she couldn't ignore. She ran into the forest, her boots pounding against the mossy earth. When a low-level beast dared to cross her path, she decapitated it without slowing her pace. A single, fluid stroke of her massive blade was all it took to end the creature; the turquoise glow along the weapon's edge flared for a brief, brilliant mont before fading back into the steel. She didn't even bother to look at the falling corpse as she sprinted past, her focus unwavering.
As she finally reached the clearing of the portal, she saw that the swirling vortex was a deep, stable blue, with only a faint, lingering purple hue pulsing at its center.
`It looks normal…`
With that thought, the Dungeon Notification appeared in her peripheral vision, displaying the current cooldown tir. It confird that the dungeon had been successfully cleared and was currently in its regeneration phase. She released a long breath she hadn't realized she was holding, and it felt as though a crushing weight had finally dropped off her shoulders. The world seed to regain its color; the ambient sounds of the forest were no longer muted by the frantic thrumming of blood in her ears.
She turned her back toward the hollow tree and gazed up at the black spire that towered over the ancient trees—a stark, jagged silhouette against the morning sky.
`I have to get stronger myself—and so must they.`
The thought solidified into a hard resolve, sharpening her features and setting her jaw. She didn't run back toward the tower this ti; instead, she walked at a brisk, rhythmic pace, killing each beast that crossed her path with a precise blade step and a devastating downward swing of her heavy weapon. The kills themselves provided no experience—a System notification she had long since learned to ignore—but with each repetition, she sought to perfect the movent. The motion beca more fluid, more instinctual, until the blade felt like a natural extension of her arm—a part of her she was only just beginning to truly understand.
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Back at the tower, the atrium remained silent and imposing. There was still no one else outside, the morning air still and expectant. Iris made her way to the third floor, her footsteps heavy and purposeful as she walked over to the wing where the other won resided. She reached the first door and, without a word of warning, basically kicked it in. The wood splintered under the sudden, violent force of her blow, the bang echoing down the hallway.
"Get up. The sun is already up," she barked.
Without waiting for a reaction or an acknowledgnt, she moved to the next room, repeating the action. With every subsequent room, the tone of her voice grew harsher and more demanding.
"Get the fuck up! Training starts now!"
The door to the final room didn't yield to a single kick. She snarled and kicked again, harder this ti. The wood splintered around the locking chanism, the door swinging wide to reveal a room that was surprisingly tidy. It was empty save for a hastily made bed and a small, organized pile of personal belongings on the bedside table. The occupant was already standing by the window, her back to Iris, wearing the simple armor that hugged her fra perfectly.
Lana turned slowly, her expression a complex mix of defiance and lingering fear.
"I was awake," Lana said, her voice remarkably steady despite the slight, visible tremor in her hands. "I was waiting for you."
Iris's gaze narrowed, taking in Lana's posture—the slight, calculated bend in her knees and the way her weight was evenly distributed across the balls of her feet. It was not the stance of soone paralyzed by terror, but of soone coiled and ready for a fight.
`Interesting.`
"Good," Iris said, her voice dropping into a lower, more nacing register that vibrated in the small room. "Then you can lead the others down to the atrium. You have five minutes. Anyone who is late eats dirt for breakfast."
She didn't wait for a reply, turning on her heel and striding back toward the central chamber. Behind her, the sounds of shuffling feet, frantic dressing, and hushed, panicked whispers filtered out from the open doorways as the other won scrambled to obey the command.
Vanessa was the first to erge into the hallway, her face a mask of composed, silent concentration. She was already fastening the final leather straps of her armor as she walked. Carn followed closely behind, her dark eyes assessing Iris with a detached, almost analytical curiosity, as if she were a specin to be studied. Sarah brought up the rear, her usual flirtatious bravado and sharp tongue gone, replaced by a sullen, simring resentnt that did nothing to hide the naked fear in her eyes.
Lana joined them at the front, falling into step beside the others with a quiet confidence. They stood there in the atrium—a mismatched quartet of captured souls—awaiting their next command under the shadow of the Zweihänder.
Iris looked them over slowly, her silver eyes sweeping from their freshly polished armor to the various weapons they held with varying degrees of comfort and competence. They looked better than they had a few days ago. Harder. But they weren't hard enough. Not yet.
"Today," Iris began, her voice flat, cold, and echoing against the stone walls, "we learn what it ans to be an asset to this Guild. Not a liability." Her silver eyes lingered on each of them in turn, daring them to look away. "Form up. We have a long day ahead, and I don't plan on carrying any dead weight through the woods."
She turned without another word, her expectation of their obedience clear as she strode toward the grand archway leading out of the atrium and into the light.
They fell into a rough, uneven line behind her—a clear sign of the primal fear she instilled. Iris led them out into the bright morning light, the dense forest pressing close around the tower's artificial clearing. She stopped abruptly, turning to face them, the vast black spire of their sanctuary—and their prison—at her back.
"We begin with dry combat drills and skill training here," she said, gesturing to the wide clearing with a sharp flick of her Zweihänder. "Once I am satisfied, you will fight the beasts inside the forest again. This ti, I will not be standing over your shoulders."
Iris paused, her gaze hardening into steel as it passed over each of them, lingering on Lana.
"Afterward, we will enter the Burrowing Depths." With a fluid, powerful motion, she pierced the tip of her massive sword into the soft earth, leaning on the hilt before she added: "I won't assist you inside. Unless I see it as absolutely necessary to prevent a total loss."
The silence that followed was heavy with the realization of what was being asked of them. The "safe" training was over.
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