My name is Erika-teze.
I was still a novice adventurer, but I had grown accustomed enough to the life that coffee enjoyed during a subterranean camp tasted wonderful.
...
Actually, this coffee was delicious regardless of whether we were camping or not.
Perhaps the beans were different? When I lived with my family, I always thought of it as a bitter drink used solely as a vehicle for the sweetness of sugar. Back home, we hadn't called it coffee; we called it Kaffa. Perhaps they were different drinks entirely that merely looked alike.
I would have to investigate once we returned to our base. For now, however, I had a more pressing concern: escaping this labyrinth.
At the moment, Urza and I were separated from Isree and the others, hopelessly lost within the maze. It wasn't that we’d been careless. In adventuring, a single lapse in judgment can be fatal, so we were always on high alert.
It was simply a matter of bad luck.
We were a few days' journey from the nation-building site. Having heard rumors of monster sightings, we had set out to subjugate them. We failed to find the monsters, but we did discover the entrance to a massive cave—one wide enough for three adults to walk abreast with room to spare. Suspecting it might be a monster den, we decided to investigate.
Of course, we had no intention of diving straight into the depths. Our current equipment wasn't suited for a full expedition; we only meant to check for tracks near the entrance.
We found no traces of monsters. Just as we decided to call it quits and turn back, a complex magic circle flared to life beneath Urza's feet.
Some kind of spell had triggered. I instinctively grabbed Urza’s clothes to pull her clear, but I wasn't fast enough and was caught in the radius alongside her.
The circle was a teleportation trap. The scenery shifted instantly—the dirt-walled tunnel vanished, replaced by a massive, sturdy hall of stone walls and paved floors. Several candlesticks lined the walls, casting a dim glow over the room. The center of the hall was brightly lit; looking up, I realized there was a chandelier hanging from the vaulted ceiling. It was so high up that I hadn't noticed it at first.
Since there were several doors, I didn't think we were trapped. Urza was right behind me, looking exactly as she had before the teleportation. I felt a wave of relief, but it was short-lived—Isree and the others were nowhere to be found. We had been split up.
Then, I noticed something else.
One of the doors creaked open, and about twenty figures completely covered in black hoods filed inside. They didn't surround us; instead, they began setting up boxes at various points around the hall. They seemed to be ignoring us—or so I thought.
One of them approached and gestured for Urza and me to stand in a specific spot. They even went so far as to mark the floor for us.
"Was this a trap?" I wondered. I looked at Urza, thinking there was no need to be so compliant, but she seemed unconcerned. She didn't sense any bloodlust, so she chose to play along. I followed her lead.
Once we were in position, one of the hooded figures held up three fingers and began a countdown. When the last finger went down, the boxes the others had placed began emitting beams of light toward the main door.
A man’s booming laughter echoed through the hall. The doors swung open slowly, and the source of the laughter stepped through. Between the lights from the boxes and the glow from behind the door, he was little more than a silhouette at first.
He stopped laughing abruptly. "That’s a bit too bright," he complained. "Lower the lights. I’ve been in the dark far too long; my eyes hurt."
As the light dimmed, I was finally able to observe the man. He looked like an ordinary middle-aged man, yet his skin had a youthful tautness—a strange, clashing impression. He wasn't wearing noble's finery, but rather an old-fashioned butler’s uniform. I could tell from his poise that he was accustomed to the attire.
Was he someone who had lived for a very long time? A member of the Demon Race? He carried no visible weapons and his physique didn't look trained for combat. He seemed more like a magic-user.
The man cleared his throat and addressed us. "Welcome to my master’s mansion! I would like to welcome guests after so long, but my master mentioned nothing about any scheduled visitors. Which means... you are uninvited guests!"
That much was true. We had no intention of being "guests," either.
"If you tell us the way out, we'll leave without a fuss," Urza said. As she spoke, I saw her hand moving behind her back, preparing something out of the man's sight. She expected a fight. That settled it for me; I steeled my resolve.
The hooded figures raised their hands and retreated toward the walls, signaling they wouldn't interfere. I wasn't sure if I could trust them, but since Urza wasn't focused on them, I put them out of my mind. Our only enemy was the man in front of us.
"Unfortunately, now that you've seen this place, I cannot simply let you leave," the man replied. He seemed just as committed to the confrontation as we were.
There were about thirty paces between us. To my surprise, the man began walking toward us slowly. If he were a mage, he should have kept his distance.
Then, I realized my mistake. No weapons, no muscle—I had assumed he would use magic. I was wrong. The man had a different way of fighting.
An Evil Eye.
His right eye began to glow. He was likely confident he could suppress both of us with its power. Suddenly, he closed the gap with startling speed. This was bad. Depending on the eye's effect, we could be killed before we even had a chance to react.
I moved to intercept him, but Urza was faster. Just as the man widened his eye to unleash its power, a handful of sand flew from Urza’s hand and hit him directly in the face.
"Gyaaaaaaaah!" the man shrieked, rolling across the floor in agony.
"I know how to deal with an Evil Eye," Urza remarked coolly. She showed no hesitation, stepping forward to dump even more sand over the man's face.
"Stop! Wait—!"
The man tried to shove her away, but Urza’s sword flashed, severing his arm in a single stroke.
Oddly, no blood sprayed from the wound. Instead, the man’s body began to crumble into dust, only to manifest again perfectly intact in front of the door where he had first appeared.
At that moment, the truth clicked. He was a vampire.
"Y-you! To use such a cowardly, foul trick as throwing sand! I won't forgive you! I will never forgive you!"
I gripped my mace and renewed my focus. I wouldn't let my guard down again. I would crush anyone who came near us. Urza readied her sword as well.
"C-come and get us!" I braced for his next move.
"I-I'm going to tell my master on you!" the man cried, and then he turned tail and fled.
Wait... what?
The hooded figures bowed politely, muttered their excuses, and followed him out of the room.
"Um, Urza? Should we go after them?"
"After we beat this thing," she replied.
I was about to ask what she meant when a massive Fire Giant manifested in the center of the hall. It looked far more formidable than the vampire butler.
Honestly, this was more my speed.