Chapter 47 – Drak's Mission
Drak's POV – Before the Dungeon Run
Drak spent most of her days training alongside her older brothers, constantly pushing herself harder and harder. Born with the fire element like her father, expectations for her were always high—perhaps unfairly so.
On this particular day, after earning yet another scar during morning drills, she was summoned to her father's war room. When she entered, she found him mid-argument with a gnoll chieftain who served under him. The gnoll was new—eager, but still learning his place. He was quickly reminded of it as he was physically thrown from the room.
"And don't come back until you've done what you were told!" her father roared after the retreating gnoll before turning toward her. His anger faded the moment he laid eyes on his daughter.
"Drak," he said, voice leveling, "I'm sending you on a test. A new dungeon has surfaced. My soldiers are spread too thin to deal with it properly, so I'm sending you instead."
She straightened her posture, already sensing this was more than a scouting mission.
"You'll clear the dungeon," her father continued. "And speak to its core. Convince it—by any means—to aid in training our troops. If it refuses…" He paused, his gaze sharpening. "Destroy it. I won't tolerate the rise of a new power within our borders without allegiance."
Drak nodded once. "Is there any information about the dungeon?"
"Not much," he admitted, his expression darkening. "Only that it seems… different. It has a body—some humanoid form it uses to communicate—and it apparently avoids killing. Soft, maybe."
That caught her attention.
He continued, "It also spared someone who entered it… and killed a lesser bronze-tier monster in the process. That means it's dangerous, even if it pretends not to be."
Drak clenched her fists, the itch for combat starting to grow.
"This should be simple for you," her father said, waving a hand dismissively. "You and your brothers have all reached gold-tier. I expect a report when you return. Two weeks. If I don't hear from you, I'll send an army to raze that puny dungeon to the ground."
He turned back to his maps and scrolls, already done with the conversation.
Drak left without another word, her expression unreadable. She stopped briefly by her chambers, then headed to the family armory. She equipped herself—grabbing her axe, polished armor, food rations, and a marked map detailing the border region.
After locating the village near where the dungeon was first spotted, she set out. The journey was short—only a few days on foot, cutting through thick jungle paths and steep hills. The guards at the village gates had tried to stop her, but they quickly realized who she was and let her through without further resistance.
Soon after, she found herself standing before the village elder.
Later That Day…
To Drak's mild surprise, the elder proved more helpful than she'd expected.
He showed her the dungeon's location on an old, weathered map—but not before launching into a long-winded rant about how several goblins had abandoned their posts and disappeared toward the dungeon. According to him, most of them had been non-combatants—civilians. He feared they'd become residents of the dungeon.
"Why else," he muttered bitterly, "would they just vanish like that?"
He warned her not to underestimate the dungeon. It may not try to kill her outright, he said, but it would likely feel threatened by her presence—especially with its last known strength being copper-tier. Still, he cautioned, dungeons were unpredictable.
Drak listened… but only half-heartedly.
She had no fear of copper-tier threats. To her, this dungeon sounded more like a curiosity than a challenge. Her pride burned hotter than any warning the elder could give.
She would go.
She would test it.
And if the dungeon failed to impress?
She would burn it to ash.