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(AS) B3 - Lesson 3: "First Impressions Are Important."
🕑 Added 2025-02-06 17:51:32 +0000 UTCDeep within the ancient forest, hidden beneath the gnarled roots of a massive redwood, lay a small cave, just wide enough to fit half a dozen people if they crammed together. Dim mosslight seeped through the tangled lattice of roots forming the ceiling, casting a low glow that barely nourished the shrubby plants and lichen clinging to the uneven floor. Against the back wall, a boulder loomed, its surface thick with moss, as though time itself had forgotten its presence.
The boulder shuddered. Once — just a slight tremor — then again, more violently. A third time, and dust and bits of moss crumbled free as it rumbled to the side, revealing a dark, gaping hole. Silence followed, the void beyond swallowing the ambient sounds of the cavern. Then, at last, a figure emerged.
A stocky man in near-black armor stepped into the faint light, his movements steady and unhurried. His thick, dark hair was woven into precise braids; each strand threaded with silver in the tradition of the northern dwarves. His beard, neatly trimmed, obscured his firm jaw, and his rugged features bore no remarkable marks to distinguish him — except for his eyes. Cold, hard grey, like the sky before a winter storm. They held no warmth, no softness, only a calculating sharpness honed by years of survival in a world that did not forgive weakness.
Magnus Ironheart could vanish into any tavern or mining enclave on the continent, indistinguishable from a hundred other dwarves. Not that he cared; he had no use for fame or admiration. A pretty face rarely had a use in his line of work.
His sharp gaze swept across the cave, taking in its details in a heartbeat. He rapped his knuckles against the boulder twice, the sound dull against the moss-covered stone. A moment later, another figure hesitantly stepped into the light.
A lanky, nervous young man in dust-streaked leather armor, his movements stiff with tension, stood. Thick goggles sat awkwardly on his face, half-obscuring his wide, darting eyes. He adjusted them hastily, scanning the cave’s dim recesses as though expecting something to lunge from the shadows.
“I, ah…” The scout swallowed hard. “S-see, boss? Just like I told you. Perfectly clear! I, ah, even blocked the entrance… in case one of the g-goblins made it out this far.”
Magnus didn’t reply. He simply grunted and reached into his storage ring, pulling free a rolled map. As he did, a square of stone rose from the cavern floor with a muted grind, forming a makeshift table. He spread the map across its surface, smoothing the parchment with a calloused hand.
“Where are we?” His voice was level, uninterested, his eyes never leaving the map.
The scout hesitated, throat bobbing. “I… ah, I mean…” He faltered, words failing him.
Magnus’s gaze didn’t waver, but his tone dropped to something colder. “Hurry up, boy.”
The scout flinched, then forced himself forward, a trembling finger hovering over the map. He pointed near the northern wall of the cavern.
A low growl rumbled from Magnus’s chest, deep enough to make the pebbles on the stone table tremble.
The scout paled. He stumbled back, hands raised in frantic appeasement. “I know it’s t-the opposite of where we planned… b-but the other scouts kept running into trouble, and I thought — why not just… ya know… go around?” His voice dwindled, breath shallow, legs trembling under Magnus’s heavy silence.
The dwarf turned toward him with measured slowness. His face remained unreadable as his hand drifted toward his belt.
The scout’s eyes clenched shut, his entire body stiffening for the blow. He braced for the bite of steel, the crushing weight of a gauntleted fist —
Something small and solid thumped against his chest.
He cracked an eye open. A single gold coin glinted at his feet, nestled in the moss.
“For not wasting my time like the rest,” Magnus said gruffly, before turning back to the map.
A cavern this large should have had dozens, if not hundreds, of entrances, both natural and beast-made. Yet, each entrance near the village the scouts had found had either been collapsed ahead of time… or barred with thick metal doors, the likes of which they would have expected to see blocking some larger Deep Clan’s home caverns.
No words needed said about what happened to those scouts who had led them down such dead ends.
The scout exhaled shakily, sweat cold on his skin. He bent down, scooped up the coin, and tucked it swiftly into his belt pouch. He hesitated, watching Magnus, who remained focused on the map, his expression unreadable.
Then, “Boy.”
The scout snapped to attention. “Yes, sir!”
Magnus didn’t look up. “Gather the others.”
The order was met with a rapid nod. “Y-yes, sir!” The scout turned and bolted into the darkness.
For several long minutes, Magnus studied the map in silence, his mind working through their next move. Reaching the cavern Bosco had found should have been the hard part. According to Seeker’s reports, the only locals were a single goblin village — likely a castoff from a larger clan. They had taken down Bosco, yes, but only because of the dungeon’s artifacts, not their own strength.
The Adventurer’s Guild expedition, however, was another matter.
They weren’t the best the guild had to offer, but they were hardened veterans. No telling what they had pulled from the dungeon while Magnus had been forced to slip around them. That was why he had risked so many men for this assault. If he couldn’t gauge the expedition party’s strength, he would drown them in overwhelming force.
And once they were dealt with — once the goblins were subjugated — the dungeon’s secrets would be his to claim.
A dark grin ghosted across his face at the thought.
Magnus folded the map with a crisp motion and stretched, rolling his shoulders. He strode to the cave’s far wall, running a rough hand over the thick roots. Humming softly to himself, he flexed his Spirit energy.
The roots shattered. Wood splintered, peeling away to reveal a narrow passage just wide enough for a grown man to squeeze through.
Magnus stepped out into the cavern forest, inhaling deeply.
The air was rich with the scent of Deep Pine, thick moss, and an intoxicating blend of spirit herbs. Unlike the nearby jungle cavern, the temperature here was crisp — cool, but not biting, a faint chill threading through the atmosphere.
Towering redwoods dominated the landscape, their trunks thicker than three carts set side by side. Their upper branches disappeared into a soft mist that hung high above, diffusing the mosslight into a faint, ethereal glow. The ground was a sea of green moss, broken only by clusters of flowering bushes and fruit-laden trees, all thriving in patches of dappled light. Even at a glance, Magnus recognized several spirit herbs among them. Nothing rare, but in the surface world, or even the well-traveled Deep Caverns, they would have been harvested long ago. Here, they grew wild, so abundant he could almost see the herbal essence drifting in the air.
“Smells like home…” he muttered. Not Halirosa, no. This place reminded him of the untouched wilderness stretching beyond the mountain ranges near the Starfall Sea.
A land of untold dangers.
And even greater rewards.
Magnus’s grin stretched wider as he took in his surroundings. He turned to the towering redwood whose sprawling roots wove through the cavern’s floor like grasping fingers. The forest had pressed right up against the cavern wall, as if nature itself had sought to claim this space.
Perfect.
He placed a hand against the redwood’s trunk, gauging its solidity, then stepped forward. The world tilted on its axis, but Magnus moved with practiced ease, strolling up the tree’s bark as if it were level ground.
Many Cultivators could accomplish something similar, though few bothered. The technique required intense control, and by the time most gained the ability, they could already fly — or at least afford an artifact that let them. But Magnus? His Gravity affinity turned what was difficult for others into second nature.
It always amused him how most assumed gravity was a brute’s tool, useful only for crushing foes or lifting boulders. Such a waste.
With a little creativity, it could do so much more.
Magnus reached the first thick branches and paused, glancing back at the cavern wall a dozen meters away. He flexed his affinity again. The world shifted, and he fell toward the rock face, twisting midair before landing feet-first against the stone. The impact barely registered. He rolled his shoulders, then resumed his steady climb — except now, the cavern wall was his path.
——————————————————
Ten minutes later, Magnus stood high above the forest canopy, surveying the cavern’s vast expanse. He gave a low whistle.
“Seeker wasn’t kidding. This place is massive.”
It wasn’t the largest Deep cavern he had encountered, but it wasn’t far off either. If the native village had been allowed to flourish here, it was likely there would be a new seat on the Deep Council in a few hundred years.
Their loss. Our gain.
His smirk deepened as he imagined the rewards Icefinger would bestow upon him for securing this place. Maybe it would even be enough to finally break through after so many years of stagnating.
Narrowing his eyes, Magnus scanned the cavern. As a high [Elemental Dominance] Cultivator, his natural vision was sharp, but in a place this saturated with Spirit energy, the air shimmered, distorting distant details. No matter. He had prepared for that.
With a flick of his wrist, a telescope appeared in his hand. He lifted it, adjusting the arrayed lenses, and let his gaze roam across the cavern.
The first landmark he noted was the waterfall to the east. It roared as it spilled from a gap in the cavern wall, likely fed by some surface river, before plunging into a vast lake below. From there, a wide river carved through the cavern, dividing it into two distinct sections — on one side, an immense redwood forest, its canopy a rolling sea of green; on the other, a smaller barren land stretching toward the cavern’s eastern wall.
Following the river’s path, his gaze landed on the dungeon. Or at least, what had to be its outer wall. A towering stone barrier enclosed part of the river on both sides. Even through the telescope, details were scarce. Something — either the thick forest canopy or a deliberate protective array — warped the air around the structure, obscuring his view. Likely measures placed by the dungeon creator to prevent spying just like this.
Clever.
Finally, he spotted the goblin village at the farthest point his telescope allowed. Nestled between the dungeon and the opposite cavern wall, its clustered huts were barely distinguishable from this distance. Nearby, a clearing held a scattering of tents — the expedition party’s camp.
Magnus’s smirk turned cold.
They didn’t even bother with concealment arrays. No serious fortifications either.
He expected the Adventurers of Halirosa to be on high alert after that fool Aria’s slip-up. Yet, from what he saw, their preparations were... lacking.
“This may be easier than I thought.”
He observed the movement of distant figures for a few moments longer, tracking their comings and goings. Then—,
A flicker.
His instincts screamed.
— just as a thin beam of blue light carved through the cavern sky.
At the last instant, the air shimmered, and the beam bent. It veered away, burrowing into the stone at his feet. The wall hissed and glowed red-hot where the shot had landed, a thin hole dripping molten rock.
Magnus’s eyes narrowed. He couldn’t pinpoint the shooter’s exact location, but he knelt, dipping a finger into the still-glowing hole. Scooping up a bead of molten stone, he rolled it between his fingertips, watching the heat pulse against his skin.
Then he grinned.
“Well, now…” he chuckled, turning the molten marble over in his palm. “Guess that means they know we’re here.”
The world tilted once more, and Magnus fell.
——————————————————
“Tsk…”
Antchaser clicked his tongue, lowering his smoking rifle. The barrel still glowed red-hot as he carefully set it aside.
“Well, that was a waste,” he muttered.
The small [Wasp] drone perched on the wall beside him turned its mechanical head. “He bent the beam,” Alpha stated. “Likely using gravity manipulation, if what Dr. Maria said of his affinity is true.”
Antchaser raised a brow. “Gravity affinity can do that?”
He turned to Dr. Maria, who merely shrugged.
“Apparently,” Alpha responded. “Gravity defenses aren’t unheard of. They’re actually a pretty efficient way to protect… vehicles from impacts. Low energy and reliable. But for personal shielding?” The AI paused. “Now that is uncommon. Energy barriers are way more effective against small arms. Still… bending a plasma beam mid-flight? That was unexpected.”
Alpha sighed. “Oh well. It was worth a shot.”
Antchaser gave him a flat look.
“Hehe… get it? Shot?” Alpha let out a chuckle.
Antchaser stared at the drone in silence.
Alpha huffed. “Bah! Whatever. More importantly, how’d you like your new toy?”
The goblin frowned, tapping a finger against the rifle’s casing. “Too slow. The charge-up time and size make it worthless at close range.”
Alpha hummed. “Fair enough. They’re still prototypes.” He didn’t mind. This was a field test, after all. Besides, the hybrid array tech they’d integrated — gleaned from Garrelt’s research — wasn’t quite stable enough for mass deployment yet.
Turning to Dr. Maria, Alpha tilted his drone’s head. “I assume that was this ‘Magnus’ fellow?”
The grandmotherly doctor nodded. “That’s right.” She crossed her arms. “Though I’m surprised they’re coming from the north. Given their strength, I expected a direct assault from one of the closer entrances.”
Alpha waved a spindly metal leg. “Oh, I accounted for most of the surrounding caverns days ago. Sure, there was a slim chance they’d find one I missed, but…”
Dr. Maria stared at him, then sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Right. Of course you did.”
She exhaled. “So what now?”
Alpha chuckled, his drone’s optics flickering.
“Now?” He turned toward the distant cavern wall. “Now we go ‘greet’ our guests.”
