I Have a Military Shop Tab in Fantasy World
Chapter 67: To the Dungeon!

Chapter 67: To the Dungeon!

The girl with crimson-red eyes and that ever-composed expression gave a small wave, standing just a few steps from their table. Her cloak was different now—stitched with protective runes and lined with a faint shimmer of enchanted thread. A spellbook was fastened securely to her hip, and a long staff of silverwood rested across her back.

"It’s good to see you again," Serina said, walking toward them.

Lyra looked between the two. "Friend of yours?"

"We share a class at the Royal Academy," Inigo said. "Didn’t know you were an adventurer too."

"I registered recently," Serina said with a nod. "I wasn’t sure I’d pursue it seriously, but... then I saw your names on the board."

Inigo folded his arms, eyes narrowing slightly. "You do know what you’re signing up for, right? Hollowwood. Minotaurs. It’s not a beginner dungeon."

"I know," Serina said calmly. "That’s why I want to help."

Lyra raised an eyebrow. "What’s your specialization?"

Serina smiled faintly. "I can heal."

Inigo blinked again. "Wait, seriously?"

"I’m trained in both restoration and elemental casting. Technically, I’m listed under ’Sorcerer,’ but my mana affinity allows me to cast high-level fire spells and intermediate-class healing magic."

Lyra leaned forward, suddenly interested. "So... you can burn things and patch us up after?"

"Exactly."

"Why didn’t you say anything about this at school?" Inigo asked.

Serina shrugged slightly. "No one asked. And besides... I don’t exactly advertise that I can toss a firestorm or reverse a bleeding wound."

Elira, who had remained respectfully silent until now, finally stepped forward. "You would complete our team, Serina of the Royal Academy. We are about to confront beasts born of rage and darkness. Your gifts would be welcome."

Serina gave her a modest bow. "Then I’ll do my best."

Inigo exchanged a glance with Lyra. She gave him the smallest of nods.

"Alright," he said. "You’re in."

Serina smiled, a rare but genuine expression. "Thank you."

"Don’t thank us yet," Inigo said, grabbing his satchel. "We still have to survive this."

The four of them headed straight back to Guildmaster Thorne’s desk to finalize their party registration. The old warrior looked up from his paperwork as the group approached.

"Thought you two were still short," he grunted.

"We were," Lyra said, motioning to Elira and Serina. "But we’re full now."

Thorne gave the crusader and the sorceress each a long, appraising look. "Crusader with frontline defense enchantments and a sorcerer-healer hybrid. That’ll do."

He reached into a drawer and pulled out a set of crystal seals. Each one bore the crest of the guild and glowed faintly with embedded mana threads.

"These are your clearance permits. Authorized for the Hollowwood sector. If city guards or forest patrols question you, just show these."

He handed each of them a seal.

"You’ve got six hours until sundown," Thorne added. "I suggest you get moving. Weather’s been rough lately, and terrain out there can change fast."

"Appreciate it," Inigo said, tucking the permit into his coat. "We’ll be back with fewer minotaurs in the world."

Thorne snorted. "Just come back in one piece."

The team gathered outside the guild hall, already drawing glances from other adventurers. It wasn’t every day that four gold-ranked members walked together—especially with one of them being an academy sorcerer.

Elira adjusted the strap of her kite shield and checked the edge of her longsword. "I have a supply satchel with minor wards and health elixirs, if needed."

"I have high-efficiency mana potions," Serina added. "And a scroll of spatial anchoring, in case the cave distorts."

Lyra slung her bow over her shoulder. "I brought food."

Inigo smirked, loading fresh rounds into his Desert Eagle. "And I brought firepower."

The group moved quickly through the western quarter of Eldrath. The city’s edge gave way to cobbled trade roads, then dirt paths, and finally to forest trails carved out by wagons and merchant caravans. The trees grew denser as they walked, the air turning damp and cool with the scent of moss and pine.

After nearly two hours of steady hiking, they reached the first sign of trouble.

A wagon lay overturned at the side of the trail, its contents—barrels, crates, and ripped cloth—scattered across the ground. Tracks in the dirt told a story of panic. Clawed hooves. Deep furrows. Blood stains.

Serina knelt and touched the trail. "This is fresh. Maybe a few hours old."

"Elira?" Inigo asked.

The crusader raised her shield and scanned the nearby woods. "I sense nothing within a hundred meters, but we should remain alert. This wasn’t a random ambush. They’re pushing closer to the road."

"We’re getting close to the lair," Lyra said. "The old quarry trail should be just ahead."

And it was.

Ten minutes later, they emerged into a clearing surrounded by jagged stone ridges. A steep descent opened into what was once a mining site—long abandoned. Now, nature had reclaimed it, with moss-covered stone walls and vines coiled around rusted mining gear.

At the center stood the entrance to the cave.

It yawned like the mouth of some dead god—dark, wide, and silent.

A few bones littered the ground nearby. Broken swords. Splintered shields. A cracked helmet.

"Looks inviting," Inigo muttered.

"No ambient magic," Serina said, frowning. "Which is... concerning. There should be some residual traces from all the monsters living inside."

"They’re suppressing their presence," Elira said. "Or something stronger is cloaking them."

"Great," Lyra muttered. "We’re up against intelligent cows now."

Inigo holstered his sidearm and reached for his goggles, pulling them over his eyes. The enchantment activated with a tap, feeding him thermal readings.

"Let’s go in slow. Formation: Elira up front, I’ll take left flank, Lyra on the right. Serina, middle—support role."

They all nodded.

Elira drew her sword and stepped into the cave, shield raised high.

One by one, they followed, the light of the forest fading behind them.

The darkness ahead felt ancient.

Alive.

As they walked, the cave grew colder.

Walls of damp limestone closed in on either side, and the ground became uneven—slick with condensation and the remnants of old mining rails. Strange markings etched into the stone glowed faintly in the dark—primitive carvings not of human origin.

Inigo tapped Lyra’s shoulder. "Scan the ceilings too. They like ambushes."

"I know," she said, bow already raised.

Behind them, Serina hummed under her breath—a soft, melodic chant that bathed them in gentle white light. Her healing aura, passive and ever-present, gave a calm focus to their steps.

"You’ve done this before?" Elira asked over her shoulder.

"A few times," Serina said. "Mostly solo missions. But nothing like this."

"You’re doing well," Elira said. "Stay close."

They turned a corner—and then stopped.

The air changed.

It smelled of iron and ash.

At the far end of the tunnel, the stone opened into a wider chamber lit by bioluminescent fungi and glowing crystal growths. A pile of bones rested in the center. Some fresh. Some shattered.

The sound came next.

A heavy snort.

A clatter of hooves on stone.

They all readied their weapons.

"This is it."