"It's almost time," Sasha said, her voice steady. The Dark Guild executive peered through the window of the carriage, her black hair cascading over her curves.

"That was fast."

I leaned back against the armrest, staring out from the dim cabin at the dense, encroaching forest.

"That's because we aren't using horses," she replied.

The vehicle the Dark Guild had provided was a Dragon Carriage, handled by a [Tamer] and pulled by a massive Earth Dragon. Its strength and stamina far exceeded any stallion's. We had sped across mountain paths as if they were level plains, reaching the "Cradle of the Dead"—the dungeon where our target was supposedly hiding—in half the expected time.

"We expect the Royal Guard to be patrolling the perimeter," Sasha added. She flipped open her notebook, dropping the bombshell with complete indifference.

"Wait, what? The Royal Guard?"

My voice rose. There hadn't been a single word about that in the request form.

"This is the first I'm hearing of this."

"Oh? Is it?" she teased. "But your mission is simply to 'deliver the letter and retrieve the package.' It's not like I'm asking you to fight them. The Royal Guard is only there to make sure the target doesn't slip away."

"Fine... Just tell me who the target is already."

A mischievous glint entered Sasha's eyes as she tapped a finger against her lips, pretending to think it over.

"A man named Bradley."

"Never heard of him. Who is he?"

"Like I said: Bradley. A bearded, handsome middle-aged fellow. Here, this is what he looks like."

She pulled a slip of paper from her notebook and offered it to me with her long, slender fingers. I took it and unfolded it. Sure enough, it was a sketch of a distinguished-looking man in his prime.

"So, what did this Bradley do to have the Royal Guard breathing down his neck?"

"Enough," she said simply.

I let out a heavy sigh. I wasn't about to chicken out now, but I was annoyed that the job was turning out to be more complicated than advertised.

"Old man Lizard told me this was going to be an easy gig..."

"If you're careful, you won't have to deal with the guards at all. There are several ways into the dungeon. I’m sure you'll find a way."

"And what about you?"

"We'll be lying low nearby, waiting for your return, Walt."

I clicked my tongue and glanced out the window as the carriage pulled to a halt. We had stopped near a jagged fissure in a rock face deep within the woods. Even from here, the air felt heavy—damp and smelling of the mildew characteristic of the Undead.

"Well then, off you go. Good luck."

"Right... I'm going."

With Sasha's encouragement ringing in my ears, I slipped out of the cabin.

I activated my [Stealth Arts] and crept toward the "Cradle of the Dead."

Grim-faced men in polished armor stood watch at various intervals—the Royal Guard.

I focused intently on my [Stealth Arts], silencing the sound of my own footsteps until they were non-existent.

Moving like a shadow past the sentries, I squeezed into one of the fissures in the rock wall. The stench of mold and rotting meat grew pungent, stinging my nose.

This was it—the first time I'd ever set foot inside a dungeon.

The interior of the "Cradle of the Dead" lived up to its name, the air thick with a cloying miasma. I activated [Night Vision], and the darkness gave way to a clear, sharp view of the jagged stone corridors.

There were no guards in sight, but I could tell I wasn't alone. I felt a faint vibration in the air coming from deeper in the passage and drew my dagger. I waited, holding my breath.

Clack, clack...

The sound of metal on stone echoed as three Skeletons emerged from the shadows. To my surprise, the things were wearing armor and carrying rusted swords and shields.

"So much for 'just a delivery job,'" I muttered.

One of the Skeletons spotted me, the pale light in its empty sockets flaring. Unfortunately, [Stealth Arts] didn't work nearly as well on the Undead as it did on the living. It was a lesson I’d learned back in my days as a [Hunter]—those rotting bastards had a sixth sense for anything with a heartbeat.

The trio raised their rusted blades and shuffled toward me with a cacophony of bone and metal. As the leader swung its sword down at my skull, I parried the blow with the flat of my dagger. In the same motion, I slammed my left hand against its skull and triggered an [Alchemist] skill.

"[Decomposition]."

For a split second, the skull blurred. Then it simply disintegrated, crumbling into fine white dust. Deprived of its anchor, the rest of the body collapsed into a heap of bones.

[Decomposition] was a skill meant to return matter to its basic elements. It didn't work on living beings, but it was devastating against the Undead, who lacked true "life force." Once the head was decomposed, the monster went down like a puppet with its strings cut.

I made quick work of the other two, decomposing their skulls with a touch, and then headed deeper into the "Cradle of the Dead." It was time to find our distinguished gentleman, Count Bradley.

"I am Fiona, of the Shield of the Sky."

"And I am Clyde, also of the Shield of the Sky."

The man and woman stepped down from their carriage, addressing the approaching Royal Guard with effortless authority.

"I never expected the Shield of the Sky to send Fiona and Clyde. The King is certainly taking this seriously," a veteran-looking guard said, greeting them with a respectful nod.

"What's the status?" Fiona asked.

"Count Bradley is still holed up inside with the accomplices who aided his escape. They seem to have some kind of item that keeps the Undead from attacking them. They managed to lose us and disappear into the lower levels."

Fiona and Clyde exchanged a look.

"I've never heard of an item like that," she said.

"We're talking about the infamous Count Bradley," Clyde countered, running a hand through his shimmering gold hair. "It wouldn't be surprising if he had his hands on something that foul."

"I suppose you're right."

Both were striking individuals—blonde hair and blue eyes—and their presence alone made the grim dungeon entrance feel like the setting for a high-society gala.

"When do you plan to head in?" the veteran guard asked.

Fiona's expression sharpened.

"We don't have time to waste. We go in now."

"I’ll need two of your best men to provide support," Clyde added.

"Understood."

The veteran guard turned to his men and raised his voice.

"Listen up! Which of you wants to join Holy Knight Fiona and Sage Clyde on a Count-hunt? Step forward!"

A wave of eager young guards surged forward. In the end, two of the most capable were selected, and the party prepared to enter the "Cradle of the Dead."