【Golden Sunwood Tavern】

In Yafeng Town—the settlement closest to Amethyst Dungeon—there were only two taverns. Unlike its rowdy competitor, always packed with drunkards drinking swill, the Golden Sunwood Tavern served rich, mellow wine in every cup.

Naturally, the higher prices meant its customers were adventurers with at least some strength.

But today, instead of spreading out as usual, the adventurers clustered nervously to the right side, leaving four people alone on the left, practically taking over half the tavern.

For those four were none other than Silverthorn, a diamond-ranked adventurer party with every member above LV50.

It wasn’t that Silverthorn was domineering. It was simply obvious from their mood that no one wanted to poke the hornet’s nest.

So the other adventurers sat far away, drinking quietly, ears straining for gossip they could pass around in coming days.

The most striking of the four was half-dragon Gar. Even seated, his 2.3-meter frame towered over standing men. In reinforced heavy armor, he looked like a walking fortress.

And indeed, in countless battles, Gar had been their wall, shielding allies and buying them space to strike.

His one regret: he hadn’t inherited dragon breath from his mother. Otherwise, when holding the line, he could have scorched enemies with a single blast—enough to slay even a Beastman Warlord.

But the words from his mouth now were anything but brave:

“It’s over. We can’t stay in the United Kingdom any longer.

Boss, I’m telling you—this mission is impossible anyway. Better we slip away to the Western Isles before they notice. Once we head into the Dungeon, there’ll be no chance to run!”

Clang—

A knife clattered off his chestplate onto the table. Shadow-walker Night Owl, twirling two more blades at her fingertips, stared at him as though he were goblin dung.

“Did you forget? Last time we took a riverboat for just two days, you nearly puked your guts out.

And now you want to run to the Isles? You’d be dead halfway there.

Besides, this mission hasn’t even started. Complete it, and we’re rewarded with a city!”

Her eyes gleamed at the word city. Why a true elf would hunger for a human city was anyone’s guess.

“That’s if we can complete it! We’re supposed to return her intact, but it’s already been half a month!

You all know what happens to adventurers trapped in Amethyst Dungeon.

Fifth floor, the Parasite Tree. Ninth floor, the Tentacle Nest. Even if rescued, their brains are usually rotted away. Do you think the Duke will accept that as ‘intact’?

Best case, she was captured by Beastmen as spare meat. By now, she’s probably missing half her limbs.

And even then, we have to pray she hasn’t broken down mentally in despair.

This mission is basically impossible!

When the Duke comes for answers, Night Owl, you’ll slip away into the shadows—but the rest of us will be smashed to paste!”

Gar’s fear wasn’t unfounded. Ten years ago, when these four were still silver and gold rank, Duke Alamar was already a LV70 powerhouse, standing at humanity’s peak.

They might all be mid-fifties now, but even bound together they’d be nothing more than a warm-up to him.

The higher the level, the greater the gulf. And someone like Alamar, capped for years, surely had a mountain of high-level skills. How else had he held back the Empire at the border for so long?

“Enough, Gar. That’s enough.”

Their captain, Nova, finally cut him off.

“There’s still a chance she can be saved. If her mind’s gone, that can’t be helped—but broken limbs? A bottle of Limb Regeneration Potion can fix that.

Yes, the risks are huge. But the rewards are just as great.

We can’t give up before we even try.

Call it a gamble. If all we rescue is an idiot, then I’ll face the Duke myself. The rest of you take that chance to run.”

Truthfully, Nova agreed with Gar. Ten years ago, he too would have fled—to the Isles, or to the elves and dwarves. Even Duke Alamar couldn’t touch him there.

But now?

The United Kingdom and the Hidden Empire were on the brink of war. Neither elves nor dwarves would welcome foreign diamond-ranked fighters.

The Isles were the only option left—but that land was no paradise. To the west, the Mist grew daily, swallowing islands. Desperate slavers there would seize any stranded adventurers and force them to fight the Mist.

That death rate made dungeon expeditions look safe.

So better to gamble. Either rescue the Duke’s daughter intact—or hope even if she returned broken, Alamar wouldn’t execute them all.

Still, Silverthorn was no dictatorship.

“Old rules: vote. I say we go into the Dungeon.”

“I want to be a city lord!” Night Owl agreed instantly.

“I still say we run.” Gar folded his arms.

“Evan?”

All three turned to their last member, who hadn’t spoken a word—Evan Nets, the halfling mage. His small body was almost hidden behind the table, but as their main caster, his vote mattered.

“Got it!”

He slapped a warped, depleted mana crystal onto the table—then triumphantly pulled out a brand new B-rank crystal and clicked it into the slot in his abdomen.

Mana roared around him, flooding into his limbs, nerves, and mind. The surge sent him drifting into a blissful daze.

“Ahhh…”

The entire tavern heard his moan of pleasure. Every eye turned toward them, expressions awkward.

Night Owl’s fingers whitened around her blades. She almost hurled one into her teammate’s throat.

“Damn mana addict…”

Across the table, Nova watched his mage’s eyes roll back, drool dripping from his mouth, and felt utterly exhausted as a leader.

“We can’t delay the mission. Two to one. Gar, carry him. Night Owl and I can handle the first floors ourselves.”

Gar sighed, but didn’t argue further. He just held out his hand.

“?”

“Mana Resistance Potion. Don’t tell me you forgot the last time he blasted a Mana Burst in my face while on my back—we nearly died together!”

“…”