Chapter 61: Black Flame Dungeon
"This will be the 21st time this particular dungeon has opened in the past few years since it was found."
Sitting at the head of the table, Arian spoke as a large magical projection floated behind her, its image illuminating the conference room.
Black Flame Dungeon.
The image showed a land swallowed by dark mountains and endless black flames, the fire burning across the earth without consuming it, giving the entire place an appearance unlike anywhere else within the kingdom.
Throughout the history of this world, small pockets of land hidden from the rest of existence had always existed.
Some were formed around treasures of heaven and earth that concealed themselves from those who sought them.
Others had been hidden away by powerful gods, ancient beings, or individuals whose strength surpassed imagination.
Whatever their origin, they had existed for as long as history could remember.
Many had disappeared before being rediscovered generations later.
Others remained hidden even now, waiting for someone fortunate enough to stumble across them.
Every hidden land carried opportunity.
Every hidden land carried danger.
To those capable of surviving them, they represented glory, wealth, power, or inheritances that could alter the course of a person’s future.
To those who failed, they became nothing more than another forgotten grave.
The Black Flame Dungeon was one of those hidden lands.
Hidden within the vast territories of the kingdom, the Dracontis family had become its custodian after its discovery, assuming responsibility over every opening since then.
"It’s very much dangerous, but it’s also where the coming of age ritual for my clan is held for summoners. As such I have to protect them," Arian said.
Her expression remained composed.
There was little emotion in her voice as she looked toward those gathered around the table.
The kingdom assigned special missions to White Tower every so often.
Some involved hunting dangerous beasts.
Others involved protecting important locations or escorting valuable individuals.
Quite a number came directly from noble families requesting assistance that only the White Tower could provide.
Typically, Arian paid such requests no serious mind.
As long as someone else could complete the assignment, she preferred leaving noble affairs to others.
This request was different.
It involved the future of the Dracontis family.
Despite everything that had happened between herself and that family, they were still family.
That fact alone was enough for her to personally oversee the mission.
"The rewards are lucrative, just lead them to the dragon alter here and allow them undergo their summoning rituals, that’s all," she explained.
Her hand gestured toward a point within the magical projection.
A glowing location near the center of the dungeon stood out from every other area displayed.
That was the destination.
Their responsibility began the moment the young summoners entered the dungeon and ended only after every participant completed the ritual.
Nothing beyond that mattered.
She would have handled the matter herself if circumstances allowed it.
Unfortunately, the Black Flame Dungeon rejected anyone above Tier 7.
It was a restriction that had existed since the dungeon’s discovery.
Otherwise, the Dracontis family would have long since cleared every inch of the place, leaving nothing behind for future generations.
"It’s fine, we can handle it."
Everyone around the table nodded.
No one voiced any concern as they continued looking through the materials that had been prepared beforehand.
Maps were spread across the table.
Records from previous expeditions lay stacked beside them.
Each person quietly looked over the information relevant to their role while committing the important details to memory.
Meanwhile, outside the conference room...
A young man walked steadily through the hallway.
He was flanked by an entourage of men, their footsteps echoing softly against the polished floor as they moved together.
Floating beside him was the severed head of a Rock Drake.
Its enormous jaws remained partially open, rows of sharp teeth visible even after death.
The thick scales covering its head still possessed a faint metallic sheen, making it obvious that the beast had only recently been killed.
The young man’s attention remained fixed ahead.
His eyes moved from one door to another, reading each plaque in silence before eventually stopping in front of one.
Conference.
His steps came to a halt.
Without lingering, he reached for the door with every intention of kicking it open.
Before he could...
The door swung inward.
A young man with black hair stepped out casually.
The two groups stopped almost immediately.
"Uhhhh."
For a brief moment, Ethan stood frozen.
His eyes instinctively swept across the people gathered before him before stopping on a familiar face.
Recognition came almost instantly.
The mountains.
The Rock Drakes.
The encounter that had nearly exposed him.
The memories resurfaced one after another.
’Shit!! It’s the same fuck head from the mountains.’
Ethan cursed inwardly.
His expression, however, revealed none of it.
"It’s you? What are you doing here in White Tower? You must be intruding!!"
The young man named Lorn immediately panicked, pointing at Ethan furiously.
His voice echoed through the hallway.
The men behind him looked between the two young men in confusion, immediately noticing the hostility in Lorn’s reaction.
Back in the mountain range, Ethan had controlled a host of Rock Drakes.
That was something mainly associated with demi-humans.
Seeing him inside White Tower headquarters was enough to make Lorn’s thoughts race.
Had White Tower been infiltrated?
Was there already an attack underway?
The possibility alone was enough to make him instinctively move backward.
However, Ethan didn’t allow it.
No one understood better than Ethan how dangerous it was to give an opponent room to create distance.
Distance created options.
Options created problems.
The instant Lorn shifted backward, Ethan moved.
His body crossed the gap between them before anyone else had the opportunity to react.
The others in the entourage didn’t even have time to retreat.
A knife appeared against Lorn’s neck.
The movement had been so sudden that several of them froze where they stood, unable to process what had happened until it was already over.
Ethan’s eyes shifted away from Lorn and settled on everyone else.
"Everyone hands where I can see them. No sudden moves."
The calmness in his voice contrasted sharply with the knife pressed against Lorn’s throat.
His movements shocked every one of them.
The speed of his reaction.
The decisiveness behind it.
The complete lack of hesitation.
Everything happened before they could think to respond.
Instead, they reacted exactly the way Ethan wanted.
Hands slowly rose.
Bodies remained still.
No one attempted anything reckless.
The hallway, moments ago quiet, had become completely tense.
Noticing the commotion, someone from inside the conference room quickly stepped outside.
His eyes swept across the scene before him.
A young man stood with a knife against another’s throat while several others remained frozen where they stood.
His brows drew together.
There was a trace of frustration on his face as he took in the situation.
"Madam Arian, we have a problem here," he sighed, watching the scene with some frustration.
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