Anna, without much ceremony, expressed her intention to depart; not that he blamed her. She stood at the gate entrance, one hand resting on the ancient stone frame, and met Ulrich's eyes with her characteristic stoic expression that he’d come to know.

  "You have what you needed?" she asked.

  "I do. Thank you for your help."

  "It was on my way, and I did get some interesting items." Anna glanced toward Rosaline, who stood several paces away while examining something in her hands. The sun worshiper's voice dropped lower, enough for Ulrich to hear. "Be careful who you trust, Ulrich. The Ministry has its own interests."

  What's that supposed to mean?

  Before he could respond, she stepped forward and burst into flame.

  Right. Silas.

  Never in a hundred years would it come to this, but Ulrich prayed for that old priest. Because a very hot sun was coming his way.

  Rosaline approached moments later, tucking away whatever trinket she had been studying. "Your Pyromancer friend is direct, I'll give her that. Barely spoke three words to me the entire expedition." She smiled, but something in her tone suggested relief at Anna's departure.

  "She's focused on finding someone," Ulrich said simply.

  "Aren't we all." Rosaline adjusted her Keeper's robes, preparing for departure. "I should return to the surface. The Sanctuary doesn't run itself, and I've been away longer than intended. Captain Ottis is going to give me an earful, no doubt about it."

  "Wait." Ulrich stepped forward. "I need to ask something first."

  Rosaline paused, one eyebrow raised. "About?"

  "Materials for Rank 2 Rune of Shadow." He pulled one of the journals from his pack, showing her the detailed ingredient lists. "Most of these are rare and expensive. I don't have the resources to acquire them through normal channels. To be honest, I don’t even know what half of these names are."

  The Keeper's expression shifted, becoming carefully neutral. She glanced at the journal, then back to Ulrich's face. For a moment, something flickered in her eyes, hesitation perhaps, or calculation. His enhanced senses caught the micro-expression, the slight tension in her jaw, but it vanished before he could interpret its meaning.

  "You could get them through the Ministry," she said finally.

  "Through merits?"

  "Yes." Rosaline folded her arms, her face thoughtful as she explained. "Though I'd recommend something different. Rather than gathering materials to refine the rune yourself, you could exchange merits directly for a completed Rank 2 Rune of Shadow. It's more efficient, less risk of failure during the refinement process. Trust me, you do not want to deal with that hassle when failing a refinement."

  Ulrich frowned. "That's possible? I thought completed Runes of the Higher Rank were reserved for more senior Watchmen. And I just joined recently."

  "Normally, yes." Again, that flicker of hesitation he’d noticed, yet quickly suppressed. "But you have certain privileges available to you. Special circumstances that grant access to resources others might not receive."

  "What circumstances?"

  Rosaline's smile returned, but it didn't reach her eyes. "That's Ministry business, Ulrich. Trust that the privilege exists, and use it while you can."

  He wanted to press further, his Seer instincts telling him there was more beneath the surface. But Rosaline's tone made it clear the topic was closed, and it reminded him of a certain figure in his dream; Ma’am Felanor. Truly, the ladies of the Ministry like going around the house instead of knocking on the door.

  Instead, he shifted the topic elsewhere. "How many merits would I need?"

  "For a complete Rank 2 Rune of Shadow? Three hundred umbra shards worth of contribution, only for you. You can hunt monsters, clear threats, and recover artifacts, especially artifacts. We always need those. Anything that benefits the Ministry can be converted to merits."

  "Oh, and all cursed items are considered artifacts. That name is more common around this part."

  "Three hundred." Ulrich did the mental calculation. His current funds sat at maybe forty shards after purchasing supplies, though that Soul Core in his possession was probably worth at least a hundred. "And the fastest way to earn that much?"

  "Dungeons and ruin explorations. You’re in luck since there’s a dungeon beneath Helgan's Keep." Rosaline gestured vaguely downward. "It's dangerous, but rich in monsters and materials. Avoid the deeper sections; the core has something unpleasant there, even I don’t want to know what’s beneath, but the outer levels should be manageable for someone of your current strength."

  They discussed specifics for several more minutes, Rosaline explaining the merit system and how to convert materials into shards at the trading post effectively. Finally, she moved toward the ritual circle that would return her to the surface world, the one she’d already created. It was much simpler and cleaner, unlike his version.

  "One more thing," she said, pausing at the circle's edge. "Don't take unnecessary risks, Ulrich. A dead Watchman earns no merits. And I quite like you."

  Shadow wrapped around her form, and she vanished in a swirl of darkness. There was no violent wind or terrifying aura, not at all. Was this the difference between an expert and an amateur such as himself?

  Heh. I’ll get there.

  Ulrich stood alone in Helgan's Keep, Lord William's journals heavy in his pack, his goal becoming increasingly clear in his mind. Three hundred umbra shards. The dungeon offered the fastest path to that sum, despite the dangers his intuition had warned him about previously, and of course, Rosaline's warning to compound that.

  But he was stronger now. Rank 1 crystallization, skills enhanced beyond their previous limits. What had seemed impossible weeks ago might be merely difficult today.

  Confident, he headed for the dungeon entrance.

  The descent began at Helgan's Keep's eastern quarter, where ancient stone steps wrapped in old vines spiraled downward into darkness. A grizzled guard sat at a makeshift booth, collecting the entrance fee.

  "One shard," the man grunted, not looking up from his meal.

  Ulrich paid with a smile and continued down.

  The temperature dropped with each step, the air growing thick with the scent of decay and old bones. Torches lined the walls at irregular intervals, their flames burning with unnatural steadiness. The flight of stairs ended at a wide corridor carved from bedrock, branching into multiple passages.

  Anyone would’ve been lost at this juncture, but not Ulrich.

  His danger sense pulsed faintly, a low warning that increased toward certain directions while remaining manageable in others. Ulrich poured spirituality into Blessing of the Shadow, feeling his senses expand to map the dungeon's layout. He could hear movement in distant chambers, the skitter of chitin on stone, the wet shuffle of something large.

  A scream echoed from the leftmost passage.

  Ulrich moved without thinking, Shadow Step carrying him through the darkness in rapid bursts. He emerged into a wide chamber where three familiar figures struggled against a massive spider-like creature. The Great Aranid's eight legs carried its bulk with terrifying speed, mandibles clicking as it pressed its attack.

  “Damn you ugly spider!”

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  Borik held his shield high, absorbing blows that would have crushed a normal human. Snezana darted in and out, her daggers finding their marks between chitin plates. While Mason stood back, throwing weighted nets that tangled temporarily before the creature tore free.

  The Aranid reared back, preparing to bring its full weight down on Borik's shield.

  Ulrich manifested a spear of solid shadow and hurled it with enhanced strength. The weapon punched through the creature's thorax, erupting from the other side in a spray of ichor. The Aranid shrieked, legs spasming, then collapsed in a twitching heap of carcass.

  So weak?

  Three sets of eyes turned toward him.

  "Sir Johan?" Snezana lowered her daggers, disbelief plain on her face. "Is that really you?"

  He stepped forward into the torchlight. "Good to see you alive, all three of you."

  Borik leaned heavily on his shield, breathing hard. "Goddess, what happened to you? You're different."

  "Change of clothes, and I fought quite a few skeletons in the northern Graveyard." Ulrich examined the dead Aranid, noting the quality of its chitin and venom sacs. Worth maybe fifteen shards at the trading post, more than what those useless boneheads could fetch him individually.

  "What are you doing down here? Last I saw you guys, we parted ways in the Keep."

  Borik wiped sweat from his forehead. "Same reason as everyone else nowadays. Money. The dungeon's dangerous, but the materials fetch good prices. We've been working the outer chambers for three days now."

  "How deep have you gone?"

  "Not far," Snezana admitted. "Maybe four chambers in from the entrance. The creatures get stronger the deeper you go, and there are chambers we can't even approach without feeling sick."

  Ulrich nodded. His danger sense painted a similar picture, safe zones in the outer dungeon transitioning to increasingly hostile territory toward the core. There was no doubt in his mind that this was a human construct, the question was, who?

  "What have you encountered so far? It’ll be helpful to know."

  Borik counted on his thick fingers. "Aranids, mostly. Some skeletal hounds. A swarm of shadow bats that nearly tore our Mason apart before we drove them off. Nothing we couldn't handle until this one showed up."

  He gestured at the massive spider corpse.

  "Great Rank," Ulrich observed. "You're lucky it wasn't Awakened."

  The trio exchanged glances.

  Finally, Snezana spoke. "Sir Johan, we could really use someone like you. The dungeon has resources we can't reach on our own, and you need materials, judging by why you're here. What do you say to another partnership?"

  For one reason or another, Snezana's attitude and manner of speech felt different. There was a quality of control to it that was absent on their first meeting in the Keep’s Banquet Hall.

  I’m not the only one that changed… He thought. Outwardly, Ulrich considered her words.

  Working alone meant keeping all profits but facing every danger solo, not that he minded. A group provided backup, additional eyes, and the ability to tackle more serious threats with some coordinations. And truthfully, after the mental wounds from the Tainted Myriad Undead King, the extra company might help keep his thoughts from degrading.

  Something about humans’ inclination toward insanity from being isolated. Aristotle would be proud, given that he was the one to propose human are social creatures.

  "I take half, you don’t mind?" he asked, confident in his own strength to be worth that much.

  "Say less, Sir Johan," Borik confirmed with a nod.

  The remaining half would be split among them three, but so what? On their own, how many Umbra Shards can they possibly procure? With Ulrich's strength, Borik believed their earnings would still double, if not triple that of what they could make on their own.

  "Then we have an agreement."

  They rested briefly while the trio recovered from their near-death experience. Ulrich used the time to extract the Aranid's most valuable components, chitin plates, venom sacs, and the small crystallized shadow core near its brain. When they were ready, he took the leading role, his enhanced senses guiding them through the dungeon's maze with ease.

  The outer chambers proved manageable.

  They encountered clusters of Ordinary Skeletons that fell quickly to coordinated attacks, even without his intervention. Shadow bats swarmed twice, but Ulrich's Dark Arrow created a barrier of manifested spears that shredded the creatures mid-flight. A pack of skeletal hounds tried to flank them in a narrow corridor, but Shadow Step let Ulrich appear behind their formation and strike before they could react.

  After each encounter, Ulrich paused to perform divination. He pulled a silver coin from his pocket, letting it dangle from a thin chain. His spirituality flowed into the ordinary object as he posed questions to his spiritual body.

  Is the path ahead dangerous?

  The coin swung in a slow circle. Positive, but cautious.

  Are there Awakened threats nearby?

  The coin stilled, then swung perpendicular. No, or at least not close enough to warrant any feedback.

  "What's that?" Mason asked, watching the divination with fascination.

  "Just some divinations. Helps assess risk before we stumble into something we can't handle." Ulrich pocketed the coin and warned the trio. "We can go deeper, but caution is necessary."

  They descended through connecting passages, harvesting materials as they went. The dungeon's architecture twisted the deeper they traveled, worked stone giving way to natural caverns lined with bone and decay. The air grew heavier, thick with the presence of death.

  Before long, a chamber opened before them, its walls covered in ancient carvings depicting scenes of human worship and sacrifice. In the center, three Great Aranids fed on the corpse of something that might have once been human.

  "Together," Ulrich whispered.

  Borik charged with a roar, shield raised to draw attention. The Aranids turned as one, mandibles clicking in challenge. Snezana vanished into the shadows along the chamber's edge, moving to flank. Mason began setting up trip wires and weighted nets in strategic positions. That archer, he’d learned some useful things in that span of time.

  Without much thought, Ulrich activated Shadow Vision, watching the Aranids' dark twins move across the floor. He manifested three spears and threw them simultaneously, each targeting a different shadow's core. And all three creatures shrieked, their movements suddenly sluggish as internal damage manifested.

  Borik crashed into the nearest Aranid, his shield bash caving in chitin. Snezana emerged from darkness to drive both daggers into another's eye cluster. The third tried to flee but became entangled in Mason's nets, giving Ulrich time to finish it with a shadow arrow through its brain.

  More lesser runes flowed into his Vital Rune, though with his Rune completed, they simply dissipated. Lesser runes no longer benefited him, he needed to advance to Rank 2 before growth could resume. What a waste, but all the more to rush toward Rank 2.

  They continued the pattern for hours. Hunt, kill, and harvest. The pile of materials grew, chitin, venom, crystallized cores, intact skeletal fragments. Ulrich kept a mental tally of value, estimating they had accumulated perhaps two hundred shards worth after the first dozen chambers. This was only possible with the help of Borik’s knowledge.

  His danger sense remained steady, warning him away from certain passages that descended toward the dungeon's core. Those corridors radiated dread, a feeling that reminded him uncomfortably of the Tainted Myriad Undead King's presence.

  "We're close," Ulrich said after their latest harvest. "Maybe another few chambers and we'll have enough."

  "Finally," Borik groaned, adjusting his battered shield. "My arms feel like they're going to fall off."

  They pushed into one last chamber, a vast space where the ceiling disappeared into darkness overhead. Bone fragments carpeted the floor in a layer several inches deep, crunching underfoot. The chamber appeared empty.

  Ulrich's danger sense spiked.

  "Back!" he shouted, but it was too late.

  The bone pile erupted.

  What emerged defied his immediate categorization, an Aranid in basic shape but strange in every detail. Its chitin had fused with bone, creating armor that pulsed with dark energy. Eight eyes glowed with intelligence no mere beast should possess. And when it moved, the motion carried precision and purpose that spoke of awakening.

  An Awakened Great Aranid, and it was no ordinary “Great” Aranid either.

  Ulrich grew complacent with his divination, failing to realize one crucial factor. And he should've learned from his encounter with Bishop Lewis Smith. That divination are not omniscient, some traits can in fact obscure his divination!

  The creature's presence pressed against their minds, not as aggressively as the Tainted Myriad Undead King but with enough force to make their thoughts sluggish. It assessed them with those glowing eyes, evaluating threats the way a predator might study its prey.

  Then it attacked.

  The Aranid moved faster than anything its size should, crossing half the chamber in a single leap. Borik barely got his shield up before impact, and even then, the force drove him backward, boots carving furrows in bone fragments.

  Snezana threw her daggers, but the creature's bone-chitin armor deflected both blades, followed by a clinking metallic sound. Mason's nets burned away before making contact; some kind of ability had destroyed them mid-flight.

  Ulrich manifested a spear and struck at the creature's shadow, but when his weapon connected, the Aranid twisted, its shadow moving independently to avoid the core strike. It had learned, adapted, and understood his technique intuitively well enough to counter it. Or rather, it possessed some kind of supernatural sense to discern the danger of Ulrich’s strange method of attacks and dodge it.

  The Awakened Great Aranid's mandibles opened, and a sound emerged that existed somewhere between screech and laughter. It was toying with them. And it had an extremely human voice while doing so.

  Ulrich's mind raced through options as the creature prepared for its next attack, searching desperately for some advantage they could exploit. Behind him, he heard Mason's panicked breathing, Snezana's muttered curse, Borik's grunt of pain.

  Three hundred shards worth of materials sat in their packs. And standing between them and escape was a monster that could kill them all with the slightest mistake.

  The Awakened Aranid's eyes fixed on Ulrich, recognition flickering in their depths. It had identified him as the greatest threat in this entire chamber.

  And it lunged.