The town in the distance was empty. If there were still guards stationed near, it won’t be long until they would not be an issue anymore. She didn’t know what the town was called, but it was definitely a marked one academy, or at least an imitation of it.

The academies were institutions financially supported by the Church to train fledgling marked ones. On the surface, they were run by an independent council of people experienced in the field of combat, tactics, and adventuring, acting as administrators and instructors. On the surface, this was to provide rookies with sufficient training so that they were capable of surviving the fight against monsters, but the truth was that academies were also a means for the Church to monitor marked ones for politicking purposes. It was the same with who received the mark in the first place. Having talent did not guarantee the mark; it was loyalty to the Church creed. Fortunately, Rana had both when she was young.

With dominion over the logistics of the marked ones, the Church maintained its power. The capable ones and ones with potential were quickly enlisted into their two main fighting forces, while others were used as favors. If a city were to not comply with Church demands or did not curry enough favor, then they might not see a capable marked one assigned until everything became too late. However, was that incorrect? The human heart was selfish and indecisive and that was why the Church existed. That was why inquisitors existed.

Rana had some passing interest in the academies when she was still alive. She remembered somewhere in her gullible mind that she decided to enter one of its council after her inquisitor career. She was a fool. It was all politics, something the Church was forced to entertain to ensure the survival of humanity, but not her. Hunting the corrupt as an inquisitor was much simpler. There was only passing a verdict and executing its judgment, all in pursuit of the truth.

Still, the academy in front of her was nothing short of a mockery of what the Church provided. Whether they agreed with their creed or not, the Church at least had standards when it came to their providence. Houses were stacked alongside stockrooms and training grounds, clearly constructed only when the need arose. The walls were torn apart then rebuilt, seemingly haphazardly with its placements having no consideration for strategy or geography. It was a mess. She wondered if she even needed a plot to get through this place with a full garrison.

Rana closed her eyes and willed the nonexistent headache away. She shouldn’t be too hard on them. Aodh had to move swiftly to capitalize on the newly discovered Dungeon. With the Church losing its power, every territory had to fend for themselves. Her sister saw to that.

She heaved a sigh out of habit. Whatever that was at the end of the Dungeon, she feared that it would result in her making a choice she would regret. Her undead life had already toppled the truth she thought as her world, and she did not want to lose what little she had left.

Brushes rustled behind her and she turned around, meeting the eyes of the moon-kin.

“Is it done?” Rana asked.

“I still do not think we should keep them alive,” Alpheia replied after a small nod. She was asked to track guard patrols still stationed near the Dungeon and incapacitate them. She was explicitly instructed to leave them alive. “I do not believe everything will go as you predicted.”

“You worry too much. If the situation goes awry, we simply alter our plan.” Rana said as she stood up. The moon-kin only grunted as a response. “Did you find it?”

“I cannot read human,” the fiend replied. She then took off a large pouch and emptied it in front of Rana, scattering a bunch of ledgers and books. “Why not tell me if I have?”

Rana smirked a bit. The fiend was correct. It was a dumb question. She gave the moon-kin some directions, but she might need to visit the academy herself. Luckily, she didn’t need to. She picked up a ledger in dull yellow and read the title. It was an expedition log, and she was glad that Aodh at least had people who were somewhat competent running the bootleg academy.

An expedition log was a record detailing Dungeon runs. It was a compilation of past reports and also journals from the lead expedition team. The Tree of Ashen Falls was a new Dungeon, and one she had not studied before, so it was wise to be fully prepared on intel gathering. There were no successful full runs as of this moment so there was bound to be unknown variables, but the log could give them a good idea on what to expect. Still, Rana chuckled. To think that she would risk venturing into the unknown. She was never the adventurous type, not like her sister, but she knew that only by moving forward would she be able to find the truth.

“We have it,” Rana said as she tucked the book in her jacket after looking through the first few pages. “Let us depart.”

Rana climbed onto Alpheia’s back and the two flew towards the Dungeon. On the way, she would explain their first task. The Tree of Ashen Falls had a specific method of access, and that was through a gust of ash. To generate the ash gale, they needed to slay a certain amount of monsters, monsters that turned to dust once killed, and their remains would be picked up by the wind and eventually form a wall of twisting ash. They could then follow a tunnel dug by the people of Aodh and use it get past the hazard. The tunnel normally lead to nowhere, but once the gale formed so then would an exit. It was one of the mysteries of the land. Dungeons were localized realities, complete with their own unique natural laws and spatial distortions. That was also why Dungeon containment was an important part of a marked one’s task.

When the two reached the wasteland filled with monsters, Alpheia began bombarding them. With air-superiority, they made short work of their enemies. Rana had little to do and could barely make out the monsters, not like she could do anything with her pitiful Spells. They were very potent in terms of one-on-one combat, but they were inferior to the fiend’s when it came to destructive potential. They were done, and that was when small cuts of chill passed her face. The gust was beginning to form.

“Quick, get to the tunnel,” Rana said, wondering why she even needed to tell the moon-kin.

“I cannot,” Alpheia replied, a hint of panic in her voice. “The distance is not closing.”

Rana wondered how it was possible, but an explosion of dust and ash began to swirl around them. The two were tumbling in the air as the moon-kin struggled to steady herself. They were caught in the ash gale. How was it possible? The log never mentioned something like this. Previous expeditions made it in and out, that was why the log existed! However, a realization dawned and Rana felt her eyes widened.

Humans did not fly. They would have no knowledge of the airspace at the entrance.

“I cannot hold much longer,” she heard Alpheia shout. However, she ignored the moon-kin and began to think. Their lives depended on her to come up with a solution, and being told there was not much time left, would not help in speeding up her mind. “Is this not the moment for your schemes?”

She got it. It was risky, but it was worth a shot.

“You have to let go, let the wind consume you!”

“Are you mad?” Alpheia shouted.

“Do you trust me?” Rana asked. She already knew the answer.

“No!”

“Too bad,” Rana muttered as the tornado began to consume them both.