The majestic castle of Gildref towered over the island like a silent sentinel, its stone walls preserving the memory of his incredible conquests.


    Inside, at the heart of the throne hall, bathed in the glow of magical torches, sat King Gildref himself.


    His gaze was fixed on the pulsating light of the pylon that stood before him.


    Priests, clad in ritual robes, stood on either side of the device, their hands moving in intricate patterns, guiding the flow of magic coursing through the ancient mechanism.


    The atmosphere in the hall was tense; it seemed as if the very air trembled in anticipation.


    Finally, one of the priests stepped forward, his voice shattering the silence:


    — The pylons do not lie, — he said, his eyes burning with sacred reverence. — The seventh and final vault of the holy artifact… has recently been uncovered.


    The king, whose suspicions had at last been confirmed, exhaled slowly.


    The corners of his lips twitched, and a rare smile, full of triumph, blossomed on his face.


    — The time has come, — his voice was calm, yet carried a power akin to the rumble of thunder. — We begin.


    And at that very moment, the pylon flared up, illuminating the hall with a grim glow.


    The pylon trembled, cracks ran across its surface.


    Then it shattered. And no one cared about it anymore.


    ---


    Gloomer was confused but not broken. In this cruel world, far worse things had happened to him.


    Such a trifle could not greatly affect his state. The only thing that concerned him now was the fate of his friends.


    The fire that had engulfed the entire village helped him understand where they were and where he needed to go.


    Originally, his path had been different, but that did not matter. The important thing was that they had arrived where they needed to be. They simply had no idea what had happened to the neighboring village.


    That same skeleton that had grabbed Vale… This meant they were already everywhere! That was precisely why Gloomer had anticipated such a turn of events.


    He did not hesitate—he leapt off the hill and dashed to the left. There lay the Great Mine, rich in resources.


    That was where the fifth member of their family worked.


    And that was exactly where one could find strong guards, some even possessing magical abilities.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Gloomer recalled an incident from several years ago.


    A large, grown man holding a massive sword looked at him with a smirk.


    — Kid, are you really that afraid of being in this cave? — He laughed loudly, and the other guards joined in with laughter.


    — Let me give you some advice, kid. Here, inside the cave, you are completely safe. Fear not the depths, but what is outside. That is where the real horror lies.


    Gloomer was certain—the guards would not abandon the mine, for some reason it was too important to them.


    Suddenly, his foot caught on a root, and he crashed to the ground.


    — Damn… Even at a time like this, my luck fails me…


    A scream rang out:


    — No, stop! I can’t take this anymore!


    Ars.


    Vale immediately covered his mouth with his hand and tried to calm him down.


    They had been moving too fast—because of this, Gloomer had suffered several painful injuries. He struggled to get up but wasn’t sure he could keep moving at the same pace.


    Lark was cautiously scanning the surroundings, hoping there were no skeletons nearby.


    His fear was betrayed by his movements, his tense posture, even his breathing.


    After a few seconds, Ars finally regained his composure, and they continued their journey, but now at a slower pace.


    Their speed dropped threefold.


    But at least they had calmed down and were now moving carefully, silently.


    The forest did not end.


    Gloomer navigated by the moon and the road, trying to determine how far they were from the cave.


    The island wasn’t that large. It was possible to cross it from one side to the other in an hour.


    And Gloomer, who had walked it back and forth for years, knew these places like the back of his hand.


    Suddenly, they stopped.


    Between the trees, a light flickered, voices could be heard.


    People.


    With torches.


    They quickly realized that these people were in the same situation.


    The group consisted of eight people: five men and three women. All adults compared to them.


    They seemed uncertain of where to go.


    Lark was about to step out, but Vale grabbed him by the shoulder.


    — What are you doing? We need to team up! At least they have rain torches!


    — That’s exactly the problem, — Vale narrowed his eyes. — A torch. It’s the darkness that allows us to avoid these monsters.


    — Do you want to become an easy target?


    Lark frowned. Vale was partly right.


    They carefully passed by without revealing themselves.


    They were not heroes. And they didn’t intend to be.


    They weren’t even sure they could save themselves.


    But then Gloomer froze again.


    — Another group… — he muttered, signaling them to stop.


    These people were different from the previous ones. One guard and ordinary beggars. Their clothes made it clear they were from another village.


    But Gloomer didn’t care about them.


    He was interested in something else.


    Monsters.


    Skeletons.


    But not human ones.


    These were quadrupedal creatures, incredibly fast and agile.


    They were clearly winning.


    Eight corpses lay on the ground.


    Only five people were still alive, and they were all wounded.


    Even the lone guard was exhausted—he could collapse at any moment.


    But the monsters weren’t in the best shape either.


    Suddenly, the guard shouted, and his sword burst into a blinding light.


    The monsters froze.


    In the next moment, two of them were shredded to pieces.


    When the light faded, their corpses already lay on the ground.


    The guard’s wounds began to heal.


    Gloomer recognized him.


    By the cloak, by the stance.


    It was the chief guard of the cave.


    The very one who had always treated everyone with goodwill.


    The one who had once told Gloomer that the cave was the safest place.


    And of course, here was someone capable of effortlessly killing such monsters.


    Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.


    Gloomer didn’t hide.


    He stepped out of the shadows.


    Vale didn’t understand why he was acting so recklessly, but he trusted him and followed.


    The guard noticed him immediately.


    The sword’s glow illuminated Gloomer’s face.


    The guard laughed.


    — Gloomer? You’re joking! Are you seriously heading into the cave yourself? Am I dreaming? You usually always ran away from there! Ha-ha, oh, gods…


    — Shut up, old man, — Gloomer snapped irritably. — Desperate times call for desperate measures. And stop shining your sword in my face!


    The guard lowered his blade and removed his helmet.


    Fatigue was evident in his face.


    He was older than Gloomer had expected.


    Forty, maybe fifty years old.


    Meeting someone of that age here was already rare.


    But even more surprising was the fact that Gloomer was now speaking to someone who stood a head above all those beggars.


    Lark, Ars, and Vale were in shock.


    Vale even caught himself thinking:


    Gloomer… You sure know how to surprise.


    The old man smiled again.


    — Now you’re even quoting me? A strange day indeed.


    Gloomer didn’t smile. He was tense.


    — What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be guarding the cave? Don’t tell me that…


    — Set aside your worries, kid. The cave is fine.


    The guard paused briefly.


    — I was just taking a walk… And ran into these people, they were fighting off the monsters, and I barely made it in time.


    He fell silent for a moment, then added:


    — They were the ones who explained to me what had happened.