Chapter 28: The Silver Princess
Meanwhile...
—Adventurer's Guild—
The heavy wooden doors of the guild burst open with a loud thud, drawing everyone's attention. Conversations halted mid-sentence, mugs paused in midair, and dice froze in place on nearby tables. Heads turned as Kael stumbled inside, sweat clinging to his brow, his chest rising and falling like a man who'd just outrun death.
Boots scraping the wooden floor, Kael rushed to the long wooden counter, clutching its edge as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. His lips parted as he tried to speak, but his breath caught in his throat. He gasped, bent forward, and finally exhaled—a shaky, desperate breath.
The room fell into an uneasy silence.
"Kael?" Celeste stood up behind the counter, her voice laced with worry. "What happened? Are you hurt? Did something happen in the dungeon?"
The adventurers nearby leaned in. Some stood, others exchanged glances. Murmurs rippled across the hall.
"I saw them leave this morning. Weren't they heading for floor eleven?"
"Something's wrong. Look at his face."
Kael looked up, his face pale, eyes wide. "Yes... On the eleventh floor… after barely defeating the Abyssal Warden… we were ambushed. A whole horde of orcs. They swarmed us. Too many to count."
Gasps erupted around the room. A metal mug slipped from someone's hand, clattering to the floor.
"What about others?" Celeste asked.
"They stayed behind… fought them off. Sacrificed themselves to send me here. They are still down there—fighting," Kael said, his voice trembling.
A guild member rushed over and handed him a glass of water, which Kael accepted with shaking hands.
"This... this is worse than we thought," Celeste muttered, her face pale. "The dungeon's been behaving strangely lately, but this—this is absurd."
"We have to send backup now," she said, turning to the guildmaster's office.
Kael raised his hand weakly. "No… don't worry. No one needs to go."
Celeste froze. "What do you mean?"
"I ran into someone... on the surface. I asked for help." He paused, breathing deeply. "Captain Seraphina. She went after them."
A hush fell over the guild.
"Cap—Captain Seraphina?" Celeste blinked. "Are you talking about the Knight Order Captain? The Sword Princess?"
Kael nodded. "Yes, her. She was there. Said she'd handle it. She didn't hesitate."
A low wave of murmuring rippled through the crowd. The name alone sent shivers of awe and uncertainty through the gathered adventurers.
"She's real?" one younger adventurer asked in disbelief.
"More than real," an older warrior murmured. "She's a monster with a blade. A walking legend. I've heard... no one's ever even seen her draw her sword."
"What?" the youth blinked. "Then how does she fight?"
"No one knows. But they say she is the sword. That just being near her… it's like standing next to a storm."
"Strongest?" a dwarf scoffed. "I think she's the strongest person."
"They say she once cut down a wyvern mid-flight with a single step," another voice chimed in.
"Without using magic?" the youth asked astonished.
"Yes. No chant, no magic. Just steel and silence."
Celeste pressed a hand to her chest, breathing slowly. "If she's down there… maybe—just maybe—they have a chance."
Kael nodded faintly. "She won't let them die. I know it."
Celeste exhaled deeply, placing a hand on her chest. "You can relax now… Kael. Captain will handle the rest."
Kael smiled faintly. "Yes… I know."
Someone near the back whispered, "If she's involved, maybe we shouldn't interfere. We'd only slow her down."
But before the tension could settle, a voice boomed from the stairs above.
"Even so… It's not Captain Seraphina's duty to save adventurers," the Guildmaster said firmly. "She serves the kingdom, not the guild. Her presence doesn't excuse us from our responsibilities."
Everyone fell silent.
The Guildmaster looked around. "That being said—those willing to go as backup will be paid double."
The room remained still. No hands raised. No one moved. Several looked away, others stared at the floor. A few muttered under their breath. Fear lingered in the air.
"She's already handling it," someone said.
"It's too dangerous. If the Sword Princess went alone, what good would we do?"
Kael's throat tightened. He looked around at the crowd—some of them stronger than anyone on his team—yet none willing to step forward.
The Guildmaster sighed. "If no one is willing, then… there is nothing I can do."
A moment passed. Then—
"We'll go."
Everyone turned toward the voice.
A tall man with a massive greataxe strapped to his back stepped forward—Doran, leader of the Crimson Talons. His party stood behind him, grim and determined.
"We won't let them fight alone. Not even if the Knight Order Captain is there. That dungeon's been acting weird for days. Something else is down there for sure."
The Guildmaster nodded slowly. "Thank you. The guild will remember this. May the God watch over you."
Then Kael's hand instinctively went to the pouch at his side. He pulled it open and took out a glowing, pulsing magic stone—the Aetherium Core—and handed it to Celeste.
Her eyes widened. "Wait, you have it? The magic stone?"
Kael nodded. "Yes, Leon… and the others. They gave it to me. Said to save the girl's life, no matter what."
The Guildmaster stepped closer. "Then you must give it to her family. Yourself."
"What? Me?" Kael's voice cracked.
"They gave it to you," the Guildmaster said gently. "They trusted you with it. That means something."
Celeste nodded, then scribbled something on a parchment. "Here's the address."
Kael took it hesitantly, looking at the paper like it weighed a thousand pounds.
"Don't worry about your friends," the Guildmaster said. "She'll bring them back."
Kael nodded. "Yeah… I know."
Outside, the sun hung high in the sky, casting a bright light as the day stretched on. Kael took one last look at the guild—adventurers whispering, some looking at him with newfound respect, others with guilt.
He stepped out of the guild, holding the core close to his chest—hoping, praying—that Seraphina would return with his friends. After a moment, he started walking toward the address.
---
—Floor 7—
Footsteps echoed through the stone corridors, quiet but purposeful.
The dungeon dim light flickered, casting elongated shadows along the moss-streaked walls. Seraphina moved through them like a whisper of silver. Her hair, moonlight itself, flowed behind her with every graceful step. Her cloak barely rustled, and yet her speed was unreal — like the wind sprinting through still trees.
She paused, boots softly pressing into the damp floor. The air was thick, heavy with silence.
"Seven floors," she muttered to herself, her voice calm and measured. "Not a single monster. So this is what the Guild Master meant by 'disturbance.'"
Her hand hovered over the hilt of her blade.
Suddenly, a low growl echoed through the corridor — a wolf burst from the shadows, its crimson eyes burning with hunger.
Seraphina didn't flinch. Her expression remained cold, unreadable. She didn't draw her sword.
Not yet.
Then — steel sang.
A flash of silver.
The wolf's body crumpled to the ground, lifeless, headless. Its blood sprayed mid-air, suspended like scattered petals in time.
Seraphina stood still. Her blade was already sheathed. She hadn't moved from her place. Only her bangs shifted slightly with the breeze of her own strike.
Footsteps resumed, quiet and steady.
But then she halted again.
In front of her — a horde.
Dozens of wolves emerged from the dark like shadows given flesh. Snarling. Saliva dripping. Fast.
But Seraphina was faster.
"I see," she whispered, gently exhaling. "They must be nesting here."
One lunged. Then two. Then the rest.
Her body blurred in silver line.
Like a phantom, she moved through them — a silver arc in the storm of fur and fangs. Her sword shimmered with every stroke. She was a tempest of precision, a dance of death in motion. A whisper. A flash. A cut.
And then—
Silence.
Seraphina stood several paces ahead. Her hand rested lightly on the hilt of her blade, fingers curled but unmoving. Her other arm was calmly folded behind her back. She was upright, poised — her stance regal and composed like a knight carved from marble. Head slightly turned, she exhaled.
Behind her, time caught up.
Slash!
The wolves — mid-leap — fell apart.
Some halved, others quartered. Each cut clean. No wasted movement. No second strike.
"I expected more," she said softly. "Perhaps I've outgrown this floor."
She brushed imaginary dust from her cloak and turned away. Not a single drop of blood had touched her.
"I should've taken Kael with me. If he were here, I could just go to the eleventh floor quickly with the teleportation circle," she thought, rolling her eyes slightly.
The Teleportation Circle — an ancient dungeon construct — allowed adventurers to travel between any floors, but only under strict conditions:
1. The circle activates only when touched by someone who has already conquered the next floor.
2. If a party wants to move deeper, at least one person must have completed the floor before.
That's why Kael mattered — since he had reached the eleventh floor before. With him, she could skip the higher floors entirely.
She glanced at the corridor ahead, her gaze narrowing.
"Stay focused, Seraphina. "Complaining won't take you anywhere." she told herself, voice calm but firm — the tone of a captain.
"You have to hurry and save his friends."
With one final glance over her shoulder at the pile of mangled wolves, Seraphina vanished once more into the darkness — her figure absorbed by the deep shadow, her presence gone like a passing breeze.
The seventh floor had no answer for her power.
---
(Chapter Ended)
A/N: Check the comment box! I've added illustrations of Zandagar and the Dagger. While they're AI-generated and not perfect, I believe they'll still help you visualize things better. Hope they sparks your imagination! Thanks for reading the chapter.😇