Snow Mountain's Hideout (2)
Having made their decision, the group decided to take a short break.
They had been pushing hard ever since leaving the city, and the direwolves were exhausted.
"Hek! Heok! Hek!"
The beasts panted heavily, tongues lolling out.
The dark elves hurried to give water to the wolves, who were puffing out white clouds of breath.
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In the meantime, Owen, who had been scouting the surroundings, spotted something and crouched down.
"Ah, there it is."
What Owen had found was a type of herb that grew in winter.
Sprouting through the snow was grass blending shades of green and blue.
It was just what he needed.
Owen busied himself gathering the herbs for a while, until Arwen approached with a frown.
"What are you doing playing around like a kid? Uprooting weeds."
"Sigh... How could an ignorant dark elf comprehend the intentions of this dragon knight?"
"What? Ignorant? You're the first one to call me that, Owen Leire."
"If it's your first time hearing it, looks like you've only been surrounded by sycophants."
In truth, this herb was quite useful to Owen.
Common in the dark elf homeland, it only grew wild in the northern reaches of the Empire.
Since he'd found it, he planned to gather as much as he could, diligently working his hands until the break ended.
"Satisfied."
Owen finally stood, stretching his numb legs after filling his arms with the herbs.
Arwen shot him an incredulous look before setting the sled in motion.
But the pace was slower than before.
She was clearly scanning the surroundings for traces nonstop.
Truth be told, such caution was only natural.
The enemy outnumbered them, so vigilance was key.
After two days of travel, Snow Mountain loomed closer.
"Cursed, they say... Not wrong."
Owen didn't like the barren landscape at all.
The tall conifers they'd seen everywhere were nowhere in sight.
Only hills, massive boulders, and biting winds filled the desolate expanse.
"Only foul-tempered, nasty spirits live here."
Arwen pointed to the sky over Snow Mountain, thick with storm clouds.
The weather in this region was perpetually foul due to the spirits' whims, she explained.
Hearing that, Owen could almost swear he heard malicious laughter echoing from the heavens.
"We're pretty close now. Can't you use magic to scout the enemy position? Float those ugly eyeballs around for a long-range look—it's your specialty, isn't it?"
The memory from his past life surfaced.
He'd been shocked more than once seeing those eyeballs floating in the air during battles with dark elves.
They were disgustingly grotesque.
"They're not ugly eyeballs—they're Eyes of Wisdom!"
"Clearly a misnomer. Anyway, use them."
"No way. We'd get caught. They'd sense the mana flow."
Her expression soured as she explained.
Their destination was almost certainly the same.
What business could the enemy have at the witch's hideout?
"By the way, this hideout of Kalania's—was it common knowledge?"
"No, it's a secret... I'm the heir of a family that serves Her Majesty, so I've been there before. She betrayed us, but that witch was the Queen's guard."
"Then who the hell are they?"
There was a slim chance they had other business on Snow Mountain, but the situation was growing tense.
As they neared, Arwen halted the group and sent her best scout ahead.
Hours later, the scout returned with startling news.
"We found traces of a camp at the hidden entrance. Roughly estimating, over 40 people. And look at this."
The scout held out a small pouch emblazoned with a family crest.
It contained a flint and a few tools—likely dropped by accident.
Arwen grimaced at the crest.
"Black Briar Family."
Her mind flashed to that unwelcome heir.
"No way, I suspected, but not like this. Looks like that damned Black Briar bitch found the hideout too."
Arwen couldn't fathom how the Black Briar heir had learned of Kalania's hideout.
But there was no time for that now.
"Heroicus, I want to go no matter what. What do you think?"
Arwen burned with fighting spirit, but Owen considered the practicalities and reached a conclusion.
"Hmm... Could work."
"Yeah?"
"It's a dungeon, right? Full of obstacles."
"Right. Kalania's hideout is on underground level 4. I know a direct path from the entrance, but intruders have to go down layer by layer."
"Perfect, then. We follow them down to level 4. They'll clear the obstacles for us."
"Ah...! Good idea. Ambush them later?"
"Exactly. Better than I thought."
As Owen grinned slyly, Arwen mirrored him.
"Krhuhuhu."
"Uhuhu."
Both their minds were filled with visions of thrashing the weary vanguard.
"Might not be as bad as it seems, Arwen."
"If we can capture that damned bitch at the end, it'd be perfect. Easier if a bunch die on the way down."
Arwen realized how crucial a shift in perspective could be.
What she'd seen as a crisis was actually an opportunity.
If we play it right, we might deliver an unforgettable humiliation to that damned bitch.
Her motivation surged.
She tried not to show her agitation, but to her, Bete was an enemy she hated enough to kill.
Then Owen asked,
"By the way, how many floors is the dungeon?"
"Known part ends at level 4 with the hideout. No one knows below. Kalania sealed the path to undiscovered areas."
"A legendary witch sealed it... Probably some real headaches down there."
"Maybe."
Leaving two to guard the sleds and direwolves, the group headed for the hideout.
After hours of cautious advance, they arrived to find clear signs of a camp.
Arwen clicked her tongue.
"Idiots. If it were me, I'd post sentries here."
Seemed they'd grown careless in an uninhabited dungeon.
"We go in now."
The dungeon plunged straight underground past the entrance.
Underground level 1 consisted of rooms and corridors in classic ancient architecture.
"They swept through clean..."
Shattered combat stone golems littered the floor.
Not easy foes, yet their cores had been methodically smashed with blunt weapons.
Definitely skilled opponents.
"This room's cleared too."
The advance scout reported after checking ahead.
Mana explosion marks were everywhere.
A few arrows—strong bows, judging by how they were embedded in the dungeon walls.
The entire level was like that.
A mess, scarred by various battles.
No need to fight the golems themselves was a plus, but the enemy's prowess evident in the traces darkened everyone's faces.
"Search complete."
Level 1 was larger than expected.
Even carefully checking took nearly half a day.
They found the entrance to level 2 and descended, soon hearing combat noises from afar.
Boom! Clang!
Explosions and clashing metal.
The vanguard was fighting inside.
"Everyone hold."
The distant sounds dragged on for over a day, but Owen and the group hid and waited.
Tension faded to familiarity.
Best part: the enemy slaved away while they did nothing—it was amusing.
"Oh, one down."
"Lord, another to hell."
The dark elves tallied deaths from faint dying screams.
But soon drowsiness set in.
Even Owen felt the distant shouts grow hazy.
"Hm? How long was I out...?"
Waking, no more noise.
Advancing carefully, they found level 2 a wreck like level 1.
Dark elf corpses here and there.
"Definitely Black Briar."
"Five dead."
Arwen nodded at the reports.
"Good. Cautiously to the next."
Now entering level 3.
But silence here.
"Hold position."
They waited hours with patience.
Still quiet.
Finally sent a scout, who returned: level 3 empty.
"Really?"
"Yes, checked areas are clear. No battle traces."
"Hmm... Passed through quick since empty?"
Arwen grew anxious inside.
Enemy might already be looting the hideout.
"We go down."
As Arwen ordered, Owen raised a hand.
"Hold."
"Hm? Something, Heroicus?"
Before her subordinates, Arwen was politely formal.
Owen handed her something: the herbs he'd gathered during the break.
Arwen tilted her head.
"Why this weed...?"
"Crush it for juice. Smear it on your bodies."
Everyone looked baffled at the order.
But it was Heroicus's command.
The dark elves complied.
Arwen narrowed her eyes, face asking what the hell.
"Just apply it."
She had no choice but to obey.
They'd grown casually teasing lately, but he was Heroicus.
Arwen complied meekly.
Strong pride, but against him, no offense taken.
Just puzzled.
"Heroicus, the stench is nasty."
"Quit whining, Arwen. Preparation breeds confidence."
With no explanation, they pressed on.
After several rooms, the passage ended, opening to a vast underground cavern.
Seemed like a natural cave.
"A place like this under the mountain."
"Could believe an ancient dragon lived here."
The dark elves marveled at the surroundings.
Suddenly, a voice sharp as thorns rang out.
"Well, well! Look at these rats. Never thought we'd meet here."
Arwen recognized it instantly and scowled.
Dark elves emerged from behind a massive stone pillar—37 in total.
Overwhelming numbers.
The approaching woman's steps brimmed with leisure.
"The traitor is you, bitch. Arwen."
"Bete!"
The Black Briar heir was called Bete.
Not her real name—a nickname in ancient dark elf tongue meaning briar.
Young like Arwen, infamous for arrogance and noble airs.
Unlike prickly-but-caring Arwen, she saw lowborn as mere tools.
"Never guessed you'd skulk after us like rats, Arwen."
"How'd you know?"
"Stupid bitch. Think I came down without precautions?"
Bete drew arrows from her belt.
"Miss the arrows in the walls on the way? Poor Arwen."
"Ah... You warded them."
"Yes. Disguised as battle traces. Perfect for thick skulls like yours. Kyahaha!"
Her high-pitched laugh echoed through the cave.
"Yeah... thick skull."
Owen nodded unconsciously before Arwen caught him and he whipped his head away.
Bete was thrilled.
Scouting the hideout, now poised to catch her nemesis.
"Arwen, whatever brought you crawling here, surrender."
"Refuse."
"Still playing proud? Kneel first, fool. Know your place. Crawl to me, and I'll spare your minions."
"You call that talk?!"
"You cherish your underlings, right? Surely not sacrificing them for pride. Heh heh heh."
Arwen trembled with rage at the barbed words.
She wanted to retort, but odds were grim.
Fleeing meant hunted like prey, picked off one by one.
"Caught means done...?"
Arwen resolved to evacuate Heroicus at all costs, even sacrificing herself.
Her subordinates nodded, sharing the thought.
Arwen whispered while preparing a spell.
"Heroicus. When the fight starts, run."
But inexplicably, Owen patted her shoulder and strode forward alone.
"Ah, no!"
"Dangerous!"
The shocked group tried to stop him, but Owen waved it off casually.
"What? That lunatic? A human?"
Bete eyed the approaching Owen curiously.
"Why's a human here?"
The human pulled out a scroll, unfurled it, and asked fluently in dark elven tongue.
"Now, a question. What's inside this?"
The scroll was for a medium dragon.
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