Chapter 57: The Mysterious Adventurer
The dungeon exit took four hours.
Nathan walked slowly, leaning on Liaraen during the steepest sections of the ascending stairs. She didn’t comment on the weight. He didn’t comment on the help. They both understood the mechanics of the situation without needing to discuss it. Every so often, they stopped for a few minutes so Nathan could catch his breath. Then they continued.
The cart was still in the outer clearing, exactly where they’d left it.
The chestnut horse raised its head when it saw them appear. It let out a small snort that Nathan interpreted, with his usual cynical calm, as a professional complaint about unregulated working hours.
"Easy," Nathan said to the horse. "I’m annoyed too."
Liaraen looked at him.
"You’re talking to the horse?"
"Talking to you didn’t help much over the last few hours. I need another conversation partner."
"Acceptable."
They loaded the cart. Liaraen took the reins this time. Nathan sat on the seat with the specific slowness of someone whose body protested any sudden movement. The cart started moving.
The afternoon sun fell over the forest with the orange tone Nathan had already seen several times during the journey. The light on the trees. The horse’s elongated shadow on the path. The specific silence of a forest that hasn’t yet darkened but is preparing to.
Nathan kept his eyes closed for most of the ride.
Liaraen didn’t wake him.
She just drove.
---
The small camp of Marren appeared at dusk.
The settlement was lit with oil lamps distributed among the houses. The main communal house had its door open. Halden stood at the entrance, with the specific posture of someone who’d been waiting for hours.
Beside him, Ilena. Hands crossed over her apron.
Behind them, other settlement residents—about six or seven people, arranged in a semicircle around the entrance, with the specific expression of a small community that had collectively decided that a cart’s arrival after what had happened that afternoon deserved direct observation.
Nathan opened his eyes when Liaraen stopped the horse.
He looked at the semicircle.
Turned to Liaraen.
"Sprout."
"Yes?"
"They’re going to ask questions."
"Yes."
"I’ll handle it myself."
"Alright."
"You confirm. Without adding details."
"Alright."
Nathan climbed down from the cart with the specific clumsiness of someone whose legs still weren’t at one hundred percent. He braced briefly on the edge. Straightened up. Adjusted his jacket. And walked toward Halden with the most natural posture he could muster.
Liaraen climbed down behind him.
Halden took two steps forward.
Stopped a meter from Nathan.
Looked at him.
And with his specifically careful voice as always:
"Hunter Voss."
"Halden."
"You’re alive."
"Apparently."
"Unlikely, according to my assessment this afternoon."
"Statistics are statistics, Halden. Apparently they didn’t apply today."
Halden looked at him for a full moment.
Then, very slightly, he smiled. The smile was small, contained, specifically intelligent—the smile of someone who’d spent hours assuming one outcome and was now processing that it hadn’t materialized, and that the reason it hadn’t materialized wouldn’t be easily explained.
"Come in," Halden said, gesturing toward the communal house. "Both of you. You’re going to eat. You’re going to rest. And we’ll talk at the appropriate time."
"Acceptable," Nathan said.
They entered the communal house.
---
Ilena served dinner at the central table.
Thick soup with vegetables and cured meat. Fresh dark bread. A pitcher of the settlement’s mild beer. Nothing different from the food they’d received before.
Only Halden sat with them. Ilena remained standing against the wall, observing.
The other residents from the semicircle didn’t enter. They dispersed without ceremony to their houses. Nathan noticed and internally appreciated it. Halden had probably asked them to leave the conversation private.
They ate for a few minutes in silence.
Nathan ate slowly. The soup’s flavor made him relax slightly—the first hot meal in approximately twelve hours. His body appreciated it.
When he finished the first bowl, Halden spoke.
"Hunter Voss."
"Yes?"
"I’m going to ask a direct question. You can answer however you like. Your answer will stay in this room."
"Go ahead."
"How did you survive?"
Nathan drank water for a second, specifically to have time to organize the answer he’d already rehearsed during the ride back.
He set the glass on the table.
Leaned slightly against the bench’s back.
And spoke naturally.
"Honestly, Halden, I’m not entirely sure myself. I was lying on the ground. The creatures on top of me. The poison advancing. I was thinking, specifically, that there was nothing left to do. And then another adventurer appeared."
"Another adventurer?"
"Yes. He came from one of the side passages. I don’t know exactly which one—I didn’t see him clearly. A figure, hooded, in a dark cloak. Tall. He moved a weapon I didn’t recognize. And in approximately thirty seconds, he’d eliminated all the remaining creatures."
"All of them?"
"All of them."
"And then?"
"Then he approached me. He didn’t say anything. He looked at me for a moment. He took a small bottle from his cloak. He dripped a few drops into my mouth. I felt the poison stop almost immediately. Then he turned and left through the same passage he’d come from. Without a word."
Halden looked at him.
"An adventurer who appeared, killed all the creatures, healed you, and left without identifying himself?"
"Apparently yes."
"You didn’t follow him?"
"I couldn’t move, Halden. I was still poisoned on some level. I stayed on the ground. After a while, Liaraen arrived. She dragged me to a side niche. She applied what was left of the divine fruit. And here we are."
Halden looked at Liaraen.
Liaraen held his gaze.
"Does Lady Sael’thoryn confirm this version of events?"
Liaraen nodded with her usual aristocratic formality.
"I confirm. I arrived after the adventurer had already left. I didn’t see him personally. But I found Nathan alive when he should have been dead. And I found the crater that he says was caused by the adventurer’s weapon exploding when he eliminated the creatures’ leader."
Halden looked at her for a full moment.
"A crater," Halden repeated.
"Approximately twenty meters in diameter."
"A mysterious adventurer with a weapon capable of creating a twenty-meter-diameter crater. Who conveniently appeared just when Hunter Voss was about to die. Who conveniently knew where they were. Who conveniently had a suitable antidote. And who conveniently left without identifying himself."
"Apparently," Nathan said.
Halden looked at him.
"Hunter Voss."
"Yes?"
"That story has so many holes you could drive the cart through it."
"It’s the story I have."
"Yes."
"It’s the story I’m going to operate with."
"Yes."
Halden was quiet for a moment.
Then he drank from his glass.
Looked at Ilena.
Ilena, against the wall, shrugged very slightly with the specific expression of someone who’d lived in Veil settlements for twenty-two years and knew perfectly well that some stories didn’t require full verification to be accepted as official versions.
Halden looked back at Nathan.
"Alright, Hunter Voss."
"Alright?"
"Alright. Marren’s official version is that you were rescued by an anonymous adventurer who left no identification. That’s the version I’ll record. That’s the version I’ll share if anyone asks. That’s the version we’ll operate with."
"I appreciate the cooperation."
"It’s not cooperation. It’s economy of effort. Investigating the real version would require resources Marren doesn’t have. Accepting the version you’re offering is more efficient for everyone."
"Acceptable."
"But."
"But?"
"Someday, Hunter Voss, someone is going to ask about this with more resources than Marren has. And that person is going to arrive at more accurate versions of events. And that person won’t be as willing as I am to accept economy of effort."
"Understood."
"Prepare for that day."
"Noted."
Halden nodded once.
And with that, apparently, the part of the conversation related to the investigation was closed.
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