Systembound: Rise of the Dronemancer Chapter 105. Preparations

[Chapter 105. Preparations]

The sun climbed higher into the sky, reaching its zenith and casting harsh, vertical shadows that stretched beneath the ancient forest canopy. The light filtered through the dense layers of leaves in jagged shafts, painting the forest floor in stark, high-contrast patterns of brilliant gold and oppressive dark. Iris, who had watched their previous, sowhat pathetic display from the rear with a critical eye, finally spoke. Her voice was a low, resonant rasp that cut through the rhythmic rustling of the leaves and the distant calls of forest birds.

"The dungeon portal opens soon. We move now."

Vanessa and Carn exchanged a quick, nervous glance. A silent, desperate plea passed between them in the heavy, oppressive silence that followed Iris's command. They were still reeling from the morning's brutality, their bodies healed but their nerves frayed.

"We need light," Vanessa said, her voice barely audible above the ambient forest noise. A subtle tremor of fear betrayed her attempt at a calm, professional façade. "It will be pitch black in the dungeon. We cannot see to fight if we are blind."

Iris stopped walking abruptly, her head cocked to the side. Her posture radiated a sharp, prickly impatience as she stood perfectly still, waiting for them to solve their own logistical problem rather than providing the solution for them.

"Torches," Carn said, her voice gaining a bit of strength as her analytical, problem-solving mind finally kicked into gear. "It is simple enough in theory. We can render fat from the at in our supplies, soak a length of cloth in the grease, and wrap it securely around a sturdy stick."

As Carn began to detail the chemical process of combustion and fuel saturation with a sudden, growing passion, Lana's brow furrowed in confusion. "Grease? Like the stuff we use for cooking? Why go through the trouble of rendering more? Just take so of the lard from the kitchen supplies in the tower."

Iris turned slowly, her silver eyes narrowing to thin slits as she watched the three won imdiately devolve into a frantic, high-speed debate. Their hands flew in the air as they argued over the rits of dicinal bandages versus torn rags for torch wicks. A sudden gust of wind ruffled Iris's dark fur, and her tail twitched with visible irritation against her leg.

"Talk and walk at the sa ti," she said flatly, her eyes unreadable. "We are wasting daylight and potential experience points."

On the long trek back toward the black spire of the tower, their boots crunching rhythmically on the dry, fallen leaves, the argunt continued unabated. Their voices rose and fell like a flock of nervous birds. Sarah, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, finally broke through the noise with a simple, grounded question that silenced the entire group.

"Why not just use the candles? Or the chemical lights?"

Everyone stopped. They stared at her. Even Iris glanced back over her shoulder, a brief flicker of genuine irritation crossing her features at the obvious, logical suggestion they had all overlooked in their panic.

"A candle is significantly dimr," Carn noted, her tone returning to cut through the embarrassnt of the group, "but it is still a consistent light source."

"I would prefer we have at least one solid, long-burning torch," Lana said, her shoulders squaring as she instinctively took charge of the practical logistics. "And we should bring a few candles and so of those glowsticks as backups." She began moving toward the tower again with purpose. "A torch for a wide area of illumination, and the backups for when the primary fla inevitably goes out."

They reached the grand atrium of the tower not long after, heading straight for the massive supply piles that Searanox had accumulated. Their earlier academic argunts were quickly forgotten in the frantic rush of physical preparation. They dug through the heaps of loot and equipnt, the sound of clattering tal and shifting fabric filling the space. Everyone was searching—everyone except Carn, who moved toward the kitchen section in search of the cooking grease they had discussed.

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Ten minutes of searching yielded a significant stash of tallow candles in various sizes, but they only managed to find a few packs of the modern chemical lights.

"This should be enough for a single run, if we are efficient," Lana said. Her finger traced the fine print on a plastic package, her brow furrowed in deep concentration. "The glow is rated to last for eight hours once activated."

"So, one pack per dungeon?" Vanessa asked, turning the package over in her hands and squinting at the specs. She was already ntally calculating their dwindling pool of resources. "How bright are they?"

Across the vast atrium, Carn worked in silence. She had successfully gathered her materials: a thick, forked branch she had picked up near the entrance and a clean kitchen cloth from the household supplies. Now, she simply needed to heat the grease and saturate the fabric. She wrapped the cloth around the forked end of the branch, tying it tight with a series of practiced, professional knots.

"I will be right back," Carn said calmly, heading toward the center teleporter stone. "I need to lt this lard properly over the stove upstairs." She vanished in a faint, violet flash of magical displacent, leaving only a slight ripple in the air where she had stood.

Iris perched herself on the low outer wall of the atrium, her tail swishing in a asured, predatory rhythm against the stone. She was a silent trono, counting down the seconds until the dungeon reset. Her silver eyes tracked the won's frantic, uncoordinated preparations with a sense of detached interest. The darkness of the depths did not particularly bother her—her supernatural vision adapted well enough to low-light environnts—but she understood that for the humans, a light source was a non-negotiable tactical necessity. Searanox had his advanced dark vision to even see into the deepest, most oppressive shadows. She had only her sword. The turquoise glow that etched the runes along its edge was barely a shimr in the dark, hardly enough to illuminate the ground a ter ahead of her boots.

Lana and Vanessa sat near the equipnt section, their hands working in tandem as they stuffed a rugged backpack with ergency provisions and water bottles. Sarah, anwhile, continued to rummage through the piles of non-food items. She wasn't entirely sure what she was looking for—only that in a pile this size, she might find sothing that could give her an edge.

A few minutes passed before another sharp flash of violet light announced Carn's return from the upper levels. She was carrying sothing that could finally be called a functional torch. She held up her creation with a small, proud smile touching her lips; the cloth-wrapped head of the branch glistened with rendered fat under the dim light of the atrium. The faint, heavy sll of hot grease hung in the air around her.

"I am back," Carn said, examining her handiwork. "The cloth is fully saturated. We can depart now."

Lana and Vanessa sealed the backpack with a decisive, heavy zip and stood up, moving toward her. "We are ready as well. Carn, you will be the one to carry the supply pack," Vanessa said, her voice leaving no room for negotiation as she handed over the heavy bag. "You will not be moving as much as the rest of us in a lee."

Carn hesitated, her eyes darting between the heavy weight of the pack and the long torch. "Sure, I can carry the backpack and the torch, I suppose…" She paused, then shook her head, realizing the practical limitation. "Actually, soone else will need to carry the light. I need both of my hands free to properly channel and cast my healing spells."

Sarah walked over slowly, her hands empty. She hadn't found anything of imdiate use in the piles. "Lana takes the torch. She is always in the front of the formation anyway." Her eyes t Lana's for a brief, fleeting second before she darted her gaze away toward the floor.

Lana's shoulders slumped slightly under the added responsibility. "Right. It seems I am the only one with a hand to spare while holding a shield." She took the torch from Carn, its weight feeling like yet another burden on her tired arms. The heavy shield strapped to her left arm suddenly seed even heavier than it had been that morning. "I will try my best not to drop it or wave it around too much while we’re fighting," she muttered, adjusting her grip on the wood.

All told, it had taken them roughly an hour to finalize their preparations. They stood before Iris once again, assembled, equipped, and organized. Their faces were etched with a complex mixture of grim determination and lingering, primal fear.

"We are officially ready to depart for the portal," Carn said, her voice tight with nerves as she clutched her staff.

"Then move out imdiately. We are already behind schedule." Iris pushed herself off the wall, her massive Zweihänder appearing in her hand as she strode toward the grand archway leading out of the tower. "We have to hurry. We need to reach the entrance before the system reset occurs. That way, I can inform Searanox that we—" she paused for a brief, uncharacteristic mont, then corrected herself with a sharp edge to her tone, "—that you are actually doing it."