Scratch. Scratch, scratch.

It tickled their ears, from when the wood struck the cold, stone floor. Inch after inch, with careful precision, leaving a mark with every brush, with every touch. After some time, Deng stepped away and tossed the stick in his hand. It clattered on the floor, drumming to a halt, then a roll, each sound louder than the last, more emphatic than the last. The Multana Captain strolled to the table and returned with a lamp. He guided the light over his sketch on the floor, a partial layout of the dungeon. He then pointed to seven marks, doors to every room, from theirs to the entrance of the underground labyrinth.

With a nod, Daiden replicated the map onto his Mioveroldian Page and turned to address his three scouts. They exchanged information in haste. Leda covered the rules of their plan next, a quiet whisper, a spell of concealment. The magic traced to their bodies, blurring their existence to a haze.

The soldiers lulled into a state of silence, with Deng at the helm. They moved in a line, in tight formation, and exited the room. Some of them smiled, while others felt the breath of fear – constricting their lungs, shaking their morale. But underneath the uncertainty, the soldiers experienced a sense of relief as well. Their eyes trained onto the visitor that made it a possibility, that allowed them the opportunity for hope.

The scouts led the group to one of the doors marked on the map. Daiden knocked on it first, without words. He tried the handle next. He frowned when the door answered, with a soft click, opening into a room now covered with cobwebs and dust. With a sigh, he explored the space inside with a small, accompanying orb of light. A few books, a few displaced weapon and armour shelves, nothing more. He shook his head at the rest of the group, with a grim expression. A little later, they checked another room, then one more, both empty and thick with darkness.

“This is going to fuck with morale quite a bit,” thought Daiden, biting onto his lower lip. “I should’ve kept this part of the exploration a secret. This is shit…getting their hopes up for nothing. Ugh…”

Now ahead of the others, Van stopped his comrades at an intersection. He circled around the architecture and followed a spiral towards the centre, tapping at the floor.

[This is it, Ser Daiden!] informed Van, quickly.

[Very good!] praised Daiden. [What’s the brief on enemy numbers? Oh, and the tunnels as well. Give me everything you know.]

[Four hordes, without leaders,] said Van. [There are five tunnels, excluding the one we just used to arrive here. The identified hordes are between two tunnels, and they’re likely to merge at our location if provoked. As for the other routes, stragglers…mostly.]

With a nod, Daiden returned to Leda’s side and confirmed the next part of their expedition. The priest broke the spell of concealment. He drew a line against the air, materializing a thick, wooden staff, the same as before. With another whisper, Leda drew the inscriptions to create another safe zone. The soldiers gaped with admiration when a dome shimmered into existence, from the outline of a circle to tall, curved walls.

“Attention, everyone!” called Daiden, clearly. He stood with Captain Deng by his side, arms folded and to the back. “Remember your training. Use your head. Use your soldiers with wisdom…”

Daiden remembered his lessons from Valaris and puffed his chest, with confidence. “We have until Leda prepares our meals…it’s time to begin the hunt, for you to take back anything you may have lost!”

The soldiers fell into formation, scouts at the front, and the others in a grid – four columns, four rows.

“Van, Brine,” addressed Daiden. “Lure the hordes to us…”

Daiden wiped the sweat from his forehead. He clenched his fists as well, to hide a nervous tremble. His stomach hollowed, twisting to knots. A brave front. He showed nothing more than the poise of a leader, to Deng, to his scouts and soldiers.

“They’re starting to trust me…” observed Daiden, in thought. “I…I’m responsible for them.”

The emotions radiated into a dull pain, from inexperience. It showed. Daiden spiralled almost, into darker thoughts, until a tap snapped him back into reality. He looked around, confused at first, before noticing Deng smile at him.

“Worried, High Ranker?” asked Deng, in a whisper.

Daiden took a moment to answer. “I talked a big game, but I’ve never led a force outside of training exercises. It’s just a heavy thought. And I’m…maybe just a little worried about my plan working at all.”

“Ah, the courage of the young,” remarked Deng, with a laugh. He slapped the back of Daiden’s armour, jolting the latter with encouragement. “Fear is a good thing, my friend. A leader without fear is nothing short of reckless. Have a little faith in yourself, before expecting it from your soldiers that is.”

Daiden stared back at the Multana Captain, blankly. “Th-thank you…” The words fell from his mouth in a stammer, but with sincerity.

“And besides,” continued Deng, scratching his chin. “We’ve fought wars as well. Your strategy is sound. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll do my best to keep everyone alive…no, I promise…” said Daiden, with confidence at first, then with uncertainty. His voice faltered towards the end. He clenched his fists once more, in frustration this time. “I’m sorry. I’ll do my best to keep everyone alive.”

In a laugh, Deng patted Daiden on his back again. “Good. You realize the price of war. This punitive force is for you use, High Ranker. Bring us home…”

At the sound of footsteps, both men turned their attention towards the noisy tunnels. Their eyes pierced the darkness, spotting silhouettes, and then familiarity in the faces of their scouts. Van and Brine split near the entrance and strode along the walls of the dome. They entered through the back and hurried over to their leaders.

“Did you succeed?” asked Deng, in a low voice.

The two scouts nodded in agreement, hands on their weapons.

“Time for formation!” commanded Daiden, pounding the fear from his heart.