We appeared at the entrance of Spring Falls, weapons ready for an ambush. I looked around, expecting to see a sand wyrm diving towards us, followed by a small horde of skeletons. There was a screech that echoed over the ruins. There was a flash of purple, and a small purple-winged wyrm flew down and hovered in front of Clair. She held out her arms, and the wyrm landed in them. I was partially relieved to see that it was still alive, but that also made me worry a little. The necromancer had a wind wyrm under his control. I hoped that it hadn’t survived.

  The sun was high in the sky, which meant we had been in the Dungeon for at least 12 hours; however, high-tier Dungeons could alter the passage of time. It was still warm despite the chilly breeze, so it hadn't been longer than a few days. I looked back at the ruins of Spring Falls. The town didn't look as if it had changed much, aside from a few more buildings collapsing. I wondered if the orb that sucked us into the Dungeon was the cause of the collapse.

  "Shit," Clair said, "Milendi says that the necromancer fled almost half a day ago; he took all the skeletons, including a sand wyrm. She says that the sand wyrm left a trail we can follow."

  "Are the horses still around?" Harold asked.

  "I'm not sure, I'll call them."

  Clair lifted her hand and called out something that I didn't understand. It took me a few seconds to realise that it was her Call of the Wilds ability. We stayed in a defensive stance, as it was possible that Clair's ability could attract monsters as well as the horses. Our luck held, though and within a minute our horses galloped down the road leading to Spring Falls. I groaned internally as I glared at the demon that was my mount. It had survived, and as it stopped with the others, it glared back at me as if disappointed that I hadn’t died horribly.

  “Mount up, we need to move quickly before the necromancer gets too far away.” Harold said, he turned to Taylor, “Is the tracking beacon still working?”

  Taylor pulled out the bag that held the attuned mana crystal that Taylor had altered to trace its creator, the necromancer. It pointed towards the east, and as we looked in that direction, we could see that part of the cliff that surrounded Spring Falls looked as if it had been crushed. A pile of rocks had fallen to the base of the cliff, and sections had unnatural smooth sections. It looked like something big had scaled up the side of the cliff, something big like a Sand Wyrm.

  “Milendi will scout for us,” Clair said as she mounted her horse.

  I moved over to my horse, and we eyed each other for a few seconds before I put my hand on the saddle horn. Its feet started to move towards mine, and I quickly thrust a foot into a stirrup as a hoof slammed down where my foot had been a second before. I jumped and tried to throw my leg over the horse, but it bucked, and my leg bounced off its thigh. It whinnied with its laughter, and I punched it in the side.

  “Luca!” Elle said in shock.

  “No, fuck this beast.” I said in anger, “If it wants to play stupid games, I’ll give it a stupid prize.” I looked the horse in the eyes. “Do that again, and I will either cut off the leg or I will push you into the Dungeon. I don’t mind walking, I’d much prefer it.”

  “That’s a bit drastic, Luca.” Clair frowned.

  “No, it's not, I’m tired of all of this and want to get it over with; this horse is prolonging it,” I said without looking away from the horse. “Don’t test me, horse.”

  It glared back at me in defiance, and I let the blade of my scythe appear; the horse chuffed and turned its head away. I let the blade fade away and climbed onto the horse; it didn’t move to stop me.

  “Now that the lovers’ quarrel is over, shall we go?” Raven said, not even trying to hide her smirk.

  We took off up the road away from Spring Falls and its newly upgraded Dungeon. We couldn’t follow the necromancer straight away due to the cliff, but we made our way around a few rock pillars and a ravine that disappeared into darkness despite the time of day. The wind picked up as we left the relative shelter of Spring Falls, and we started getting blasted by rock sand once again. I activated Right Clothes for the Job and let my robes protect me from the wind, and used a strip of an old shirt to cover my mouth so I didn’t breathe in any of the detritus.

  It was slow going as we had to leave the road, but after an hour, we were on the tracks that the sand wyrm had left. We weren’t going to have any troubles following the sand wyrm; it had left a 10-foot deep gorge from its passage. Taylor checked the beacon to make sure that the sand wyrm’s tracks were a false lead, but the beacon’s bag pulled towards the direction of the wyrm tracks. We spurred our horses on and began our journey once again, this time we were right on the heels of the necromancer. I looked at the wreckage that the sand wyrm left as we travelled. Anything that had been in its way had either been knocked aside or had been crushed into small bits of gravel. There were plenty of places where we had to slow down; the horses had a hard time moving through the crushed rock, and, as much as I hated horses, we didn’t want any of them to fall and break a leg.

  Once again, there was no way for anyone to talk during the ride due to the wind and rocky sand. I began thinking about the Dungeon and the reward it had given me. I was confused about what it had said. I knew that some rewards from Dungeons didn't last once you'd left. The prize upgrade coin was one such item, as well as some potions; they required lots of ambient mana to persist, and most places didn't have that level of concentrated mana. I wondered what items the Dungeon had stabilised, but now was not the time to search for them.

  I’ve said it before, and I will say it again. Long horse rides really suck; there are so many other better things. Anyone who says differently is either insane or lying.

  The day moved slowly onwards, and the chilly wind turned into an icy cold wind as the sun began to set. Milendi came back to Clair a few times, and they had a silent conversation, each time Clair said that the trail was kept ploughing through Wyrm Territory in a straight line. We had made a lot of progress, and I could only guess how close we were getting to the necromancer, but as we came to the river that ran through the Wyrm Territory, the wyrm tracks went underground. We were obviously wary of following the Wyrm underground, especially since Milendi wouldn’t be able to scout and give us a heads up on any ambushes. Not that there had been any, but this seemed like the point where one would be set.

  “What bag point?” Harold gestured, our conversations having reverted to hand gestures due to the wind.

  “Bag says in” Taylor gestured bag.

  “Fuck.” Raven quipped.

  “I no like.” Clair added.

  “We need go.” I chimed in. “Might be days if go over.”

  I could see that most of my friends were slightly hesitant to go into the wyrm tunnel, but they agreed that it needed to be done. We decided to stay on the horses because we still needed to hurry.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  We left the outside world behind us as we descended into darkness, the tunnel walls felt very confining and almost oppressive the further we travelled. We lit torches to banish the darkness that could cover any ambushes or hide the undead till it was too late. The sound of the horses' hooves on the ground echoed into the tunnel, blocking out all other sounds. We were able to take off our wind protection, and it was nice to be able to breathe without sucking on my old shirt. The silence that we had maintained for the day persisted as we trooped through the underground tunnel. I wanted to practise my Mana Manipulation skill more; however, I wanted to keep my mana at full just in case we did run into any trouble.

  It had to have been hours later when something finally changed. The tunnel stopped going down and instead levelled out; it wasn’t a gradual shift but instead was almost a precise angle. It was so odd that we almost stopped to investigate. Harold wouldn’t hear it; he insisted that we push through the tunnel. For a guy whose ancestors lived underground for a millennium, he really disliked being underground. We have delved through underground caves, clearing out monster lairs, but there had always been something going on to keep him occupied; now there was nothing but an endless tunnel. Eventually, in the distance, we saw a speck of light. Harold had everyone prepare for a fight in case it had been the ambush we’d been waiting for. Slowly, the speck grew into a dot that grew in size the closer we moved to it. I turned out to be the exit of the tunnel back out into the Kingdom.

  The sun had started to set when we exited the tunnel; the area around the exit was a churned earth and burned fields, and the stone walls marking the fields were all scorched black from the heat. The wyrm tracks continued on the ground and headed into the distance. Without wasting a second, we continued following them; however, we took the time to get out of the tracks so the horses could move faster and then, we truly started making up the distance.

  We raced through the burned-out fields and the destroyed copse of trees that popped up now and then. I had thought that this area of the Kingdom had been defended against the goblins, and I’d expected to come across old battlefields; however, as we travelled, there was nothing but ruined farms and countryside. It was disheartening to see what remains of the growing fields; this area had once been called 'the breadbasket' of the kingdom since it had produced over 50% of all the crops. With it all burned and nothing remaining, the Kingdom was going to have a very hard time feeding everyone. I ruminated on the fate of the kingdom while we rode. I realised how dark the outlook was, even though the kingdom had survived the goblin invasion, there was still a good chance that a lot of people would starve to death before things started to get better.

  My mood only grew darker as I brooded on all the unfortunate souls that I'd have to collect and put to rest. I was not looking forward to that. War was one thing, but this would be horrible. I was brought out of my thoughts when I heard my friends start to curse.

  "Forgotten gods." I heard Taylor curse.

  The sun had started to make its final descent below the horizon, and visibility had started to wane as the shadows began to elongate and grow darker. A short distance ahead, I could see that the sand wyrm tracks had come to an end. The tracks had gone from churned earth to muddy bog as water from the large river that Taif was built next to had started to fill them in.

  A stone bridge spanned the river, leading to Taif, which stood beyond the river like a beacon of hope. The city had stone walls that were repaired with wood in sections; however, the repairs looked rushed and didn’t fill the holes completely. Taif was also missing its famed mage college towers that had attracted all of the kingdom’s aspiring mages. I guessed they must have been knocked over during the invasion. I couldn't remember what the river was called, but I knew that it formed part of the city's defences. Taif was an important defensive city that was built to protect the eastern side of the kingdom from the Wilds in the west and the Wyrm Territory in the north. From the report Harold had been given, it hadn't fared well during the goblin invasion, just like Mountain Guard, the city had been breached, and most of the residents had been slaughtered. Those who had fled had sought shelter in the Mountain Guard or were refugees in Sunak.

  The river was just over 160 feet wide, and I could see that the water was moving at a fast pace, meaning that swimming across it would be extremely hard. What caught everyone's attention, and the reason why everyone was cursing, were the huge circular bones of a sand wyrm that poked out of the river. They were unnaturally white and stood about 30 feet out of the water like parts of a broken dam; the water gushed through the gaps between the bones, turning the river into a set of rapids.

  "There is a camp, they'll be able to tell us what happened," Harold said, pointing towards the riverbank.

  I was just about to curse, I remembered the military camps on either side of Mountain Guard, their uniform and endless sea of white tents still hadn't grown on me. I didn't get to curse; however, as I looked over and saw that the camp was awash with a large variety of tents, summoned buildings and magical constructs. I smiled. This was a proper adventurer camp. As we approached the camp, 5 rogues came out of stealth and stopped us. They were all dressed in the typical rogue outfits, variously black bits of leather armour covered by black cloth and covered in knives from head to toe.

  "Halt." One of them called. "Taif is currently under siege. Turn around and go back."

  "Jeremiah, is that you?" Raven called.

  "Raven?" Jeremiah asked.

  "What's the Lonely Hearts doing here?" Raven asked.

  "We were on our way to Storm Rise but found that Taif had a goblin infestation. What about you?"

  "The necromancer fled this way," Raven pointed at the skeletal sand wyrm, "we were chasing him through Wyrm Territory."

  "You'd best come talk to Phil then, he's got all the intel."

  Jeremiah turned and left the other 4 rogues on Guard duty. We followed him into the camp as he twisted and turned randomly. The camp seemed to be haphazardly made, with areas set out around communal fire pits. We passed cloud buildings that looked like cottages, tents that looked like they were probably spatially expanded like our own, and there was even a stone building that looked like a blacksmith's. Unlike the military camp, there was no tension in the air; bards and other adventurers with musical skills joined together to play music, and I caught sight of a few people dancing to the music. People laughed and joked, giving the camp a holiday feel to it; no one walked around unarmed or unarmoured. There were more than a few groups patrolling, clearly on guard, but aside from the necromancer, I wasn't sure what they were guarding against.

  We stopped outside of a cloud construct that looked like an elongated wagon. There was a small fencing section next to it that Jeremiah advised us to tie our horses to. As we dismounted and I avoided my horse's attempt to bite me, I had the sudden premonition that this was going to be another multi-hour planning session.

  We entered the building made of white fluffy clouds, and I remembered why I was wary of them. Everything had a bounce to it, even the floor; everything felt unstable, like it could give way and you'd fall out of the building. Clair and Raven, however, seemed like they were having the time of their lives; they were skipping and bouncing along, seeing who could go higher. Harold shook his head and muttered something about children. Jeremiah led us into a large room that defied the size of the cloud construct; it was easily 3 times as large as the wagon size on the outside. In the middle of the huge room was a wooden study table and chairs made out of the cloud substance. Sitting at the table were the 4 other members of the Lonely Hearts.

  Sir Jason Krio, the leader of the Lonely Hearts, sat at the head of the table. He had long, flowing, golden hair that covered his shoulders and his bulging biceps. He wore a simple blue and green robe that made his orange eyes stand out. To his left was Lady Melissa Mire, who had medium-length wavy hair that seemed to shift colour every few seconds along with her eyes. She wore a green top that was a little too big for her, giving her a cutesy appearance. To the left of Sir Jason was Hirosha. As he turned to look at us, I could see his black hair cascading down his face, covering half of it, in the style a lot of teenage boys wearing eyeliner would recognise. His black robes almost made him look like another rogue. The last person at the table was Lord Emanuel Jones. He was a nobleman with short green hair and blue eyes. He wore a simple brown shirt and looked more like a regular person than a nobleman. Their last member, and our guide, was Jeremiah Darkblade. He had black hair that had obviously been dyed black, as his roots were starting to turn blonde. His black leather jacket was obscured with a black cloak that seemed to cling to him unnaturally and hid all of the weapons that I knew he was carrying.

  I remember everyone here from the battle with the Goblin King. We had fought alongside each other as we'd pushed through the horde to the hillock where the goblin king had been. I'd seen them all in their shining armour, looking resplendent as Sir Jason denounced the invading horde. I shook my head, banishing the memory. I didn't want to think about that battle since there were more immediate issues to deal with.

  "Harold Shieldsworn and The Wanderers," Sir Jason said, "to what do we owe this pleasure?"