[Chapter 80. Map]
Searanox sat perched on a foldable nylon chair, its modern silhouette looking profoundly out of place against the ancient, jagged backdrop of the dungeon entrance. He watched the portal swirl with a thick, iridescent light—a viscous cocktail of violet and sea-foam green that seed to pulse in ti with a heartbeat only the earth could hear. A half-eaten pack of crackers lay forgotten on his lap, the crumbs forming a miniature topographical map on his dark trousers. His attention, however, was miles away, tethered to the high-frequency data streams of his reconnaissance drones. They were fanning out in a wide, sweeping grid, scanning sixty kiloters of punishing terrain to the east, looking for the telltale energy signatures of more Nodes.
He let out a long, weary yawn, leaning back until the chair’s fra creaked in sharp protest. His eyes slid shut, the rhythmic sound of the nearby river beginning to lull him into a shallow, tactical doze.
"Searanox?"
Iris's voice, lodic yet tinged with the rasp of exhaustion, cut through his drowsiness like a blade. He sat up with a start, the crackers sliding to the dirt as he rubbed the lingering sleep from his eyes. His gaze imdiately sharpened, his brow furrowing in a deep, contemplative line before twisting into a faint, dissatisfied grimace.
"Mhhh~ ohh, you're back," he muttered, though his mind was clearly still processing the drone teletry. "Nothing?" he whispered under his breath, the word barely audible over the wind.
"I don't understand. I was in the Burrow Warrens for hours," Iris said, mistaking his comnt for a critique of her performance. "I found a few things I thought might be of use to you." She stepped closer, her armor scuffed and coated in a fine layer of subterranean dust. A small, gleaming pile of items materialized in her palm: twelve silver coins and a dense, pulsing lodestone.
"It's not about your loot, Iris," he said, his gaze drifting past her, fixating on the horizon where the sun was beginning its slow descent. "The drones... there are no dungeons further east. I’ve pushed the sensor range sixty kiloters out. It’s a dead zone. No nodes, no signatures, just... empty forest."
He stood up and folded the chair with a practiced snap, watching it vanish into his storage ring with a flicker of blue light. "Unexpected. The density of this region suggests a hub, yet the east is a vacuum."
"But back to you," he continued, stepping into her personal space. He took the silver and the lodestone, his fingers brushing hers. "You can keep the chest piece you found... you'll need the extra defense." His eyes narrowed, scanning her disheveled appearance. "Iris, tell ... did you happen to fall into a hole?"
The question was soft, almost gentle, but it carried an edge of dry amusent. Iris’s face flushed instantly, a deep, telltale pink blooming across her pale cheeks. She looked as though she had been dragged through a rock crusher and then dusted with flour.
"N-no… I- I, I…" Her silver eyes darted frantically around the clearing, refusing to et his steady gaze. "I saw them... the traps. I a-avoided them all. It was a very clean run." The words tumbled out in a hurried, clumsy lie that wouldn't have fooled a child, let alone a man who spent his life analyzing data.
Searanox’s gaze remained steady—cold, calculating, and fundantally entertained. "Of course you did, my dear. A flawless performance." A soft, dark chuckle escaped his lips as he turned away.
He dismissed all his reconnaissance drones with a flick of his wrist, save for one unit, and summoned two travel drones in their place. Instead of mounting the first one properly, he reached out and gripped its reinforced edge, letting the machine’s vertical thrust pull him directly into the air as it lifted off. `Love this move,` he thought as the ground receded. `The ultimate ‘I’m out’ statent.`
Iris mounted the second drone, her face still a vibrant beet-red. The return journey to the spire passed in a heavy, contemplative silence, the only sound the high-pitched whir of the drones. When they touched down on the tower’s roof, Searanox moved with a sudden, singular purpose. He ignored Iris entirely, heading straight for the war room where the pristine canvases awaited.
He took the first painting and, with thodical precision, broke its heavy wooden fra, peeling the canvas away from the backing. He repeated the process with the second before retrieving the burned stick from his storage ring. As it appeared in his hand, a thin, ghostly trail of smoke curled upward from its tip, which still glowed with a faint ember. He stared at it for a mont, fascinated by the anomaly, before pulling out the two pieces of charcoal he’d gathered from the bonfire. They too, were still uncomfortably warm to the touch.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
"Too long to still be burning," he mused. "The thermodynamics of this world are delightfully broken."
He tore a single page from his notebook and touched the corner to the glowing stick. He watched the fla catch and grow into a steady, orange light before storing the stick away. "Now… where was I?"
He pressed the charcoal to the fresh canvas, his movents sure and deliberate. He drew a sharp diamond at the center of the sheet—the Spire. Just to the northeast of it, he added a small, solid triangle. Using a length of string as a makeshift compass, he traced a large, faint circle around the central diamond, demarcating his current sphere of influence.
From there, he moved inward, marking three distinct spots: one to the north-northeast, one to the northeast-east, and the last to the southeast. He drew a triangle on each mark. He added another triangle in the southwest, roughly two-thirds of the way to the circle's edge, and a final one in the northwest-west.
With the flat, gritty side of the charcoal, he drew a thick, aggressive line starting from the north, cutting through the northwest triangle, then slicing directly down to the southeast marker and extending beyond the circle's boundary.
`It looks rough, but at least it's a map,` he thought, stepping back to survey his work.
He began adding texture, using light cross-hatching to denote the dense forest areas. Further outside the circle to the southeast, he sketched the curving edge of a large lake. To the north of that lake, he left the canvas relatively clear to represent open plains.
He rolled the canvas carefully, the charcoal smudging slightly against the rough, woven texture, and stored it. His gaze drifted upward toward the high windows, lost in thought. A soft, humorless chuckle escaped him. "A wolf," he whispered, rembering the report from his silent observer.
He walked out onto the fourth floor and leaned over the railing. "Iris?"
There was no answer. He continued down to the Grand Atrium, his footsteps echoing sharply in the vast, hollow space. A quick scan revealed the room was empty. He stepped outside into the evening air, which was now turning crisp and cool. He found her there, pacing like a caged predator along the forest's edge. Her movents were agitated, her dark fur almost blending into the deepening shadows of the trees.
"Looking for sothing?" he called out.
Her head snapped around, a flicker of genuine panic in her silver eyes before she clamped down on it, masking her expression with a stoic facade. "I… I was just taking a walk. Clearing my head," she stamred.
He closed the distance between them, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. "You lie so poorly, Iris," he said, his tone light, yet the words cut through her defense. "What are you actually looking for?"
Iris flinched as if struck, her gaze dropping to the dirt at her feet. "They… they are gone," she whispered, her voice tight with a suppressed emotion.
"Ohh~ you an the four. Yeah, they're currently walking ho. It’s a scenic route."
"Alone?" Iris’s head shot up, her voice sharp with disbelief and a sudden, jagged hint of anger. "Searanox, they will die. The forest is changing. The mana-beasts are—"
"What? No, that would be crazy. I’ve got a constant eye on them," he interrupted, his expression unchanged. He materialized the canvas map and unrolled it with a snap. "But this is why I ca looking for you. I’ve formalized our intelligence. The circle represents a sixty-kiloter radius. I don’t think I have to explain the symbols to a strategist like you."
Iris took the canvas, her claws tracing the charcoal lines with a light, surprisingly careful touch. Her ears twitched as she studied the markings. "This triangle on the northwestern side? Why is it marked so heavily?"
"Ah, that one. That dungeon... its resonance was far too high. It was too strong for ."
Her ears perked up, her silver eyes going wide. "Too strong? For you?" The pure disbelief in her voice was the most honest thing she’d said all day.
"See? That is how you lie, my dear. All innocent and wide-eyed." He tapped the charcoal lines next to the other triangles. "These tally marks show the estimated difficulty levels. Each line represents five levels. There wasn't enough room for nas with this crude charcoal."
"So what are we going to do about the other four?" she asked, her silver eyes still scanning the map, though her tail was twitching with residual anxiety.
Searanox let out a short, dry chuckle. "They'll be fine. It's a fifty-kiloter march. It’s a long walk, certainly, but manageable for anyone with the stats they just gained. The real lesson isn't about physical endurance; it's about being observant. It’s about learning to see the wolf before it sees you." He took the map back, rolling it tightly. "One of my recon drones is keeping a silent watch on them. It's cloaked, completely silent, and it sees every stumble, every tear, and every kill."
A flicker of visible relief crossed Iris’s face, though she quickly suppressed it. "And if they can't handle it? If they fail this... lesson?"
"Then they weren't worth the silver and food I’ve already spent on them," he said, the words coming out cold and devoid of any human sentint. He handed the rolled-up canvas back to her as a sign of trust. "Weakness is a liability we cannot afford. We are building a guild, Iris. Not a charity for the displaced."
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