Morning. The first rays of the sun shone on the roofs of the houses at the Minnid village. A young man Insistently knocked on a door. A young Adventurer, to be more precise. He was armed and armored, wearing some strange goggles on his forehead.

Groaning, Huron climbed down the stairs. "What racket is this! Gods damn you! Why wake me up so early in the morning?"

He opened the door and the young man banging insistently for the last ten minutes was none other than Nero.

"Good morning, master Huron. Can I have a minute of your time?" He tried to be sympathetic.

The merchant was obviously still drunk. The stench of spirits in his breath was unbearable but if there was one thing an Adventurer adapted to fast, it was stench. The Dungeon reeked of death and blood. Huron was not in his best mood and he definitely didn't have the best night of his life.

"What do you want, boy?" He slurred. "Do you want to gloat how you stole my baby girl? How good it was to deflo--"

Nero interrupted him by raising his finger to his mouth. The boy's gaze was fierce. Huron looked deep in them and saw a man, not the snot-nosed kid that liked to play with swords too much.

"Say nothing you will regret later, Huron. Especially about Altia. I am here for nothing of that. In fact, if you fancy knowing, your daughter's virtue is still intact."

Huron's mouth twisted in a scowl. He was about to slap the kid but restrained himself.

"You have one minute. Speak your mind or shut your trap forever."

"What do I need to do to prove myself worthy of Altia's hand? I will not have her cut ties with her father."

Another perk of Huron's high Perception and Charisma was that he could read people like a book. He saw this much honesty before only on babies crying for their mother's teats. But he was still angry, grieving the loss of his daughter. Huron spoke before his wits could tell him it was a bad choice.

"Bring me the corpse of the Goblin. Do you have a [Monster Bag]? I'll give you one if you don't. Bring me the corpse of the Goblin before midnight and I'll accept that you are worthy of my daughter's hand."

As he mouthed the last word, he recognized what he'd done. He'd basically told the boy to die. Worse yet, he delved with his daughter. If she delved with him. But Huron could not back off in his offer. He was too proud for that. In his panic, he added.

"And you have to delve alone. Kill the goblin, bring me its corpse. Alone. Today."

Nero was frozen. The young man's mind raced. He knew all about the goblin. [Rogue]. Level 7. Four Skills. Ambush hunter. Altia. Huron's approval. His mind returned to last night's events.

Nero was sitting on his bed, his head on his hands, thinking of what he could do. He felt lost. He wanted to do everything right, to be a man worthy of standing side-by-side with Altia. What the elf told him resonated with what Huron said. She could be a noble lady. She could have the world at her feet. If Nero was to ever be a man worthy of Altia, he needed to be as powerful as a noble. Stronger than his father, even. But his cap was zero. They had hundreds of thousands of Essence and he couldn't touch a single bit.

In his brooding, he didn't notice the door opening. His lantern was on so no light came from the corridor.

"Nero?" Altia's voice called for him.

He rose his eyes. First, he saw her bare feet on the floorboards, then her long legs. Nero did a double-take when he saw Altia, in all her glory, dressed in a spaghetti nightgown made of translucent lace that was hazy enough to leave just a little to the imagination. He focused and saw she was wearing silken panties but the straps were thin bands of flower lace. He pinched himself, for he could only be dreaming. It hurt.

"Altia?"

"Yes?"

"Are you really here?"

"Always, my love. Did you like my nightie?"

He nodded, his mind conflicted between averting his gaze or just taking in the sights. Since he didn't move, the latter was winning.

"Can I come in?"

"Always, my love."

He noticed she was very shy, her arms twitching in an instinct to cover herself. She didn't. Altia came and stopped close enough he could scoop her with his arm.

"How did you get here?"

"I ran. I paid my father for my Arbitrium and left. I'm yours if you will have me."

He was staring at her navel. Nero closed his eyes and moved his head up, only opening when he was sure to be looking at the ceiling. Then he lowered until he met her eyes. He knew that if he looked at her chest he'd lose reason. Fighting his impulse to embrace her was already too much.

"Altia, I don't want you to cut ties with your father. I know you love him."

She shied away. Altia bit her lip and looked away, her arm finally winning in the struggle to cover her chest.

"Too late for that. I thought you'd be happy," She sniffled. Her eyes were moistening up.

"I am. Very happy. I'm struggling here to resist... to not take you and make you mine."

"Please do. Nothing would make me happier."

Nero moved so he was sitting sideways and cross-legged. "Sit here. Let's talk."

She sat, next to him. He hugged her, burying his face on her nape. She smelled of lavender and her skin was moist, her hair silky and well-combed. She'd just left the bath and probably a grooming session.

"I love you, Altia. That's why I'll do something to make you happier than just making you my woman here, tonight."

"What?"

She was quivering like a bamboo shoot in a storm. Nero held her, kissed her bare shoulder, rubbed her back.

"I'll make your father accept me. I'll prove him I am a man worthy of you."

"He won't. My father is too stubborn."

"Like his daughter. Altia, stay here with me tonight. Just sleep, next to me, like we were in the Dungeon. Tomorrow morning, I'll talk to your father."

"Nero..."

"Trust me, love. I'll make it right."

She cried on his shoulder. Nero gave her as much time as she wanted. When she finally put enough out, Altia fell asleep. He tucked her in and kept vigil the whole night. His mind racing, there was no way he could sleep.

"I accept your terms, Huron. I will go to the Dungeon and delve alone," Nero declared. "And I will bring you the corpse of the goblin. Then you'll give me your blessing to wed your daughter."

A merchant's honor and pride. Such a terrible thing, pride. Huron knew the boy was as good as dead. And his baby girl would be devastated. But alive and free of that burden. In the darkness that took his heart, Huron could only see Nero as a burden.

"Then it is a deal. Go now, and tell your parents to keep my daughter with them in their house today. Tonight, we will all wait for you at the Dungeon exit."

Nero nodded. "I'll be busy, sir, so I am going straight to the Dungeon. You go to my home to deliver the news and you keep your daughter away from the Dungeon."

"Agreed," the dazed merchant replied without much thought. He was too distracted by Nero's expression.

His face looked to Huron like a statue's. For once, he couldn't read someone's face well. It wasn't the face of someone that died inside, he saw enough of those in the King's Dungeon farms. The young man turned on his heels and made a beeline for the Dungeon.

Only then the weight of his task, of both tasks, fell on Huron. He had to go to the house where the probably two most dangerous Adventurers outside the Knights and his daughter lived, to tell them he sent their son to die in the Dungeon.

All because of his stupid pride. He heard whispers and looked around. The folk around them heard their conversation, early mornings too quiet to muffle the sound. Huron might've doomed himself and his daughter. And still, he didn't run after the boy that vanished behind a row of houses. The merchant shook his head and went on to fulfill his dark task.

He felt as good a dead. His only hope was that his daughter would not do something stupid. Like killing herself or worse, going after the boy. He overheard the conversations all around him. It felt as if he was walking in the wake of the wave of rumors, spreading like fire on summer-scorched hay. Huron stood in front of the door and knocked.

"I'll take it!" Altia's voice came from inside.

"Please do, darling!" Rhynne replied.

The door swung open. Altia was wearing her padded clothing, a female brigandine on the table.

"Father?" She shouted in surprise. "What are you doing here, father?" Altia looked behind him, read his face. She shivered and then burst. "WHERE IS NERO?"

Byron and Rhynne practically appeared on the staircase landing, the big man cracking a few floorboards.

"What is happening, Altia? Huron? What is it about Nero?" Rhynne asked.

"What happened to my son?" Byron was already cracking his knuckles.

"He left early to talk to you, father? What have you done?"

Huron met Altia's eyes and saw no sympathy. Her eyes were swimming, reading his face. Huron lowered his head.

"I'm sorry, daughter. I let my anger take the best of me. I'm sorry!"

"Speak father!"

Huron retold what happened. He fell on his knees, holding Altia's trousers, begging for forgiveness. After he was done, she slapped his hands and ran out.

"I need to catch up with him! I'm his support!"

The girl didn't take two steps outside. Rhynne was holding her.

"You are not going alone. Let's run to the Dungeon!"

They ran there, the four of them. Byron was closing the line, eyes peeled on Huron. The merchant could feel the [Armsmaster]'s gaze on his back.

"You may kill me, but please take care of Altia!" He pleaded.

"Nobody is dying, Huron. Let's keep our heads on our shoulders, and please make use of them," Rhynne replied. Her tone was cold and didn't transmit confidence when she said nobody was dying.

They reached the palisade of the Dungeon. Many made fun of how the wall around the Dungeon entrance was twice as tough and tall as the one around the village but Huron knew very well. For the same reason, he knew he'd doomed the boy once he regained his senses.

"How long since the last clear of the Dungeon, Rhynne?" Byron asked.

"More than two years since the last break, husband. How long since the goblin died? Nobody knows."

"He should be yellow by now, then," Byron concluded.

Rhynne nodded. She was holding Altia's shoulders, and the girl couldn't escape her grasp.

"What will we do now? You can't enter but I can. I'll go inside and find him. Then we'll get the silver and get back," She was crying. "Please, let me go help him!"

"You can't," Rhynne told her. "You won't find him. The Dungeon reads your feelings and does its best to hurt them. Trust me, daughter. If there was a chance of you helping him, I'd send you into it. But Dungeons are fickle and capricious."

"What did you mean with 'the goblin is yellow'? And why I never heard of a break?"

"Because there was no need," Byron answered. "I am the one to clear breaks, once Rhynne's magic detects the characteristic fluctuation of magic. Since the worst that comes out is creepy crawlers, I just smash everything that comes out inside this wall until it stops."

"The kids move to the next dungeon too soon, my darling," Rhynne added, caressing Altia's head. "And the boss grows stronger over time if nobody kills it, upgrading his Attributes until the accumulated energy surpasses a threshold and a breakout occurs."

"It is a piece of information we don't want most people to know," Huron added. "The people are afraid enough of the Dungeon. We don't need to make it worse."

"And now we will wait," Rhynne concluded. "Wait the whole day. Either Nero comes out or he doesn't. He might find the [Egress] card before the boss and come out."

"No, he won't," Altia shook her head. "He'll either kill the boss or not come out at all," She sobbed. Then she looked at her father with a vicious glare. "He better come out, merchant Huron. Or tomorrow, this village will have two burials and one casket.

"Mine."