The adventuring party didn't falter after losing a member. In fact, they moved even faster now.
It wasn't that they were carefree—just that before setting out, the paladin had murmured a prayer, and in response, a golden portal shimmered into existence. From it emerged a celestial heavy warhorse.
Zad watched the majestic creature, clad in gleaming barding, with bitter envy burning in his chest.
We both fight in melee, so why does the paladin get special treatment?
A warrior's life was truly unfair. His standing in the party had just dropped another rank.
After summoning his mount, Tegal affectionately stroked the celestial warhorse—a creature bound to him not just by magic, but by something deeper. Then, he offered Lolo a ride.
"Huh?" Lolo was tempted but instinctively glanced at Anthony before politely refusing. "This is your summoned mount. It wouldn't be right for me to take it."
The paladin's gaze was earnest, his words diplomatic. "The journey is long. You're a spellcaster, not as robust as Master Anthony. This will ease your burden and lighten the load for the entire party."
Zad scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, so now you can summon a steed. Why not use this trick earlier? Too busy grandstanding yesterday?"
Tegal ignored the jab, instead turning to Anthony with reverence. His tone was solemn. "Last night, I spoke with the Master about my path as a paladin. It made me realize how arrogant and ignorant I had been.
"This morning, I prayed to the great Tyr, confessing my faults. Yet instead of stripping me of my power, He granted me the ability to summon a celestial mount. Praise the God of Justice. And thank you, Master Anthony."
"Huh?" The paladin's words left everyone stunned—even Anthony was baffled.
Zad's envy had reached its peak. His face twisted as he muttered, "So… you're a 7th-level paladin now?"
"Indeed." Tegal smiled warmly.
Now, the others stared at Anthony with newfound fervor.
Clearly, this Master was not only unfathomably powerful but also rich in life experience.
Anthony remained unshaken under their admiring gazes, as if everything had gone exactly as he'd planned. Hands clasped behind his back, he strode forward—while inwardly cursing.
I just chewed the kid out for being stubborn. How did that make him stronger?!
Since when do these divinely-backed guys power up so unfairly? This is pure nonsense! Absolutely unscientific!
This time, Anthony didn't linger in the middle of the group. Now certain he was the party's strongest asset, he took the lead, relying on his keen senses to guide them in the right direction.
Time was running short. They needed to reach their destination faster.
Once out of the tunnel, the Underdark grew less monotonous. Though still cold, it was no longer pitch-black. Strange bioluminescent plants dotted the landscape, fascinating the party. The little witch even reached to collect samples for experimentation—until Anthony stopped her.
"Nothing here is worth much. Once we reach the drow city, you can buy whatever you want—if you have the coin. But it's too quiet here. If hidden enemies ambush you, we might not reach you in time."
Knowing this wasn't the place for whims, the little witch obediently fell back in line, following her companions in silence.
Her heart swelled with anticipation for the legendary Menzoberranzan.
A city dominated by elves—even if they were drow—had to be vastly different from a witches' city.
The thought made her homesick.
Back on the surface, she'd taken the sun for granted. Now, underground, she realized how precious sunlight truly was. Here, everything was washed in cold hues, black and gray dominating the landscape.
Worse was the oppressive silence. The vast underground expanse swallowed sound, leaving only the noises of their own party.
No one knew what lurked in the shadows—whether monsters watched from behind stalactites, tracking these surface-world intruders.
Invisible pressure weighed on them, growing heavier with each step and each passing hour. Thankfully, they'd gained some experience, and with minimal baggage, they moved efficiently.
The little witch's mount also compensated for the party's weaknesses. No longer fumbling in the dark, their overall speed increased by nearly twenty percent.
They marched for two hours, then rested. By midday, during their second break, Anthony spotted traces of a monster.
A massive slash mark gouged the wall, and the air carried a faint, musty odor.
The others noticed it under the torchlight. Yoda approached cautiously, then shuddered upon identifying its source.
It was a terror etched deep into his bloodline.
Tegal, oblivious to the gravity of the situation, felt invigorated by his newfound strength. "Look at the depth of this slash mark—does this mean we've reached the drow's borders?"
"No." Yoda's voice trembled, but he forced the answer out.
"This is the mark of a hook horror. This area is dangerous. Everyone, stay alert."
"Huh? Hook horrors?!" Zad's teeth chattered with unease. "How did we wander into their territory? Adventure novels say these monsters have natural armor tougher than steel and claws sharper than blades. Maybe we should detour."
"If you don't want the hook horrors to find us, shut your mouth." Before Anthony could respond, Yoda snapped. "This is the fastest route to Menzoberranzan. Down here, one wrong turn can lead to a completely different world. Take a detour, and we'll run out of time and die here."
Zad fell silent, his beady eyes darting sideways.
If they had to take the dangerous path, he could only hope the Master wouldn't stand by indifferently like yesterday.
Monsters weren't like dumb animals. In adventure tales, they were ruthless predators, slaughtering any creature in their path without mercy. Even drow parties would avoid confronting a pack of hook horrors head-on.
One misstep, and people would really die.
Anthony paid little mind to the squabble. "Yoda, scout ahead. The rest of you, keep moving."
After a simple response, all the Adventuring Party members were alert and cautious. Anthony came to the Little Witch and whispered, "Be ready to cast a spell to support them at any time. Remember, support and control of enemies is the priority, killing them is not the most important thing."
Lolo nodded. Then, Anthony's cold voice rang out clearly for all to hear:
"You're facing low-intelligence monsters that fight purely on instinct. If you cower before these, how will you stand against the drow—natural-born horror killers? You'd be slaughtered without a fight!"
"Never forget the danger of what we're doing. Only the strongest are worthy of the title 'Chosen.' This world belongs to the strong. The weak being culled is only natural."
His merciless words shattered any lingering illusions. Clearly, the Master had no intention of coddling them.
They were on their own.
Lolo fidgeted nervously before whispering to Anthony, "Master, aside from my usual spells, I swapped out fireball for another same-tier magic this morning."
"What spell?"
"Since most beings down here don't rely on sight, their hearing and smell must be acute. So, I prepared stinking cloud to exploit that. Makes sense, right?" She sounded righteous, but her tone carried a hint of guilt.
Anthony nodded. "Very logical. Two birds with one stone. You're a genius."
The little witch's feelings at that moment were… complicated.
This archmage has definitely never had a girlfriend.
"Ignore you if you're strong, kick you aside if you're weak…" Her cheeks puffed in frustration as she muttered under her breath.
Unlike the leisurely spellcasters, Yoda bore the crushing weight of scouting duty. Just walking ahead normally had sweat pouring from his brow like rain.
As a goblin who'd once lived underground, he'd actually seen hook horrors before—unlike the others. He knew exactly how terrifying they were.
Hook horrors were monstrously strong. Adults averaged nine feet tall, weighing close to 400 pounds, with natural bone armor. Their massive frames granted them overwhelming power, allowing them to crush smaller beings effortlessly. For creatures like goblins, a single strike could cleave them in half.
Unlike beasts with mere claws, hook horrors wielded scythe-like appendages—no fingers, just lethal blades. This made killing them hardly worthwhile, since harvesting spoils from their corpses was nearly impossible.
And then there was their other weapon: a razor-sharp, avian beak, keener than daggers. It could pierce a goblin's skull with ease, their tongues lapping up brains as their victims died in seconds.
Against hook horrors, goblins had only one option: run. Their feeble strength and crude weapons posed no threat.
Even the bravest stand would end in despair—their attacks failing to scratch the monsters' bone armor.
Only their bugbear cousins stood a chance, and even then, they lost more often than not. Hook horrors' low intelligence made them fearless, fighting to the death unless their pack was decimated.
High offense. Thick defenses. Pack mentality. Minimal loot. These traits made hook horrors the Underdark's most reviled monsters—the ones everyone avoided.
Yoda's caution slowed the party to a crawl. Anthony grew impatient. He'd already caught the scent of a hook horror lurking in the shadows.
Bending down, he picked up a loose stone, heated it with a flick of his fingers, and hurled it with full force toward the hidden horror's position. The burning projectile streaked through the darkness like a comet.
Let the storm rage even fiercer.