Chapter 10 – Dissension

Unsere Welt ist eine, die auch Jahrhunderte nach der Abwesenheit der Menschen noch immer von deren hinterlassenen Spuren geprägt ist. Ihre erhaltenen Werke sind überall auf der Oberfläche von Wunder und damit auch seine Mysteriöse Orte verstreut. Unter ihnen ist der Großurwald einzigartig unter seinen Gegenstücke im Land der Wahrheit.

Während die meisten mysteriösen Orte, die menschliche Ruinen absorbiert haben, Teile vergangener Gebäude und Strukturen zwischen ihren Böden produzieren können, sollen die Wildes, die in und unter den wärmenden Effekten dieses Ortes wohnen, zuerst durch menschliches Eingreifen in diese Ruinen gebracht worden sein. Einige sagen, dass die Ruinen dort, die von der Verzerrung verschlungen wurden, ein Ort waren, an dem die Vorfahren derer, die heute dort leben, aus den Gräbern zurückgebracht wurden.

Was auch immer die Wahrheit hinter solchen Geschichten ist, ein Entdecker in den Großurwald muss große Vorsicht walten lassen. Es ist ein Ort mit Geschichten aus sagenumwobenen Zeitaltern, die behaupten, dass die Vorfahren der Pokémon, die derzeit dort leben, Armeen verkrüppelt haben, die versuchten, ihn zu durchqueren. Nachdem man die Wildes gesehen hat, die diesen Dschungel ihr Zuhause nennt, könnte man sich verzeihen, wenn man solche Geschichten für bare Münze nimmt. Die Pokémon dieses Ortes sind uralte Kreaturen, die stark und mit wilden Veranlagungen zu gewaltigen Höhen wachsen, besonders wenn ihre inneren Rhythmen aus dem Gleichgewicht geraten.

Wenn die Menschen, die diesen Ort geschaffen haben, solche Kreaturen wirklich zum Leben erweckt haben, kann man sich nur vorstellen, dass sie, was auch immer ihre Beweggründe in der Vergangenheit waren, verstummen würden, nachdem sie das Labyrinth aus Gefahren und Schrecken gesehen haben, zu dem es geworden ist.

– Vorwort zu »Das Erkunderhandbuch zu Merkwürdigen Orten«

---

Step by step, Team Forager carefully crept their way through the fog-shrouded cave passage from the jungle-shrouded bluff they entered. Lyle stayed at the group’s head, attempting to give off what little light he could by venting fire from his body as he latched firmly onto Kate’s guiding string in his paws. As he and his teammates made their way forward, Lyle noticed that the mist began to turn a visible white, a sign of light filtering in from up ahead. The stoat made his way forward, giving a tug at the team’s guiding string as he stepped forward, the mist melting away to reveal an overgrown forest much like the one near the top of the falls that they’d fled from.

The Quilava stopped, waiting for his teammates to catch up with him as he noticed that the air was hot and somehow even more uncomfortably damp than it had been back on the plateau. When the rest of Team Forager came in, they looked up and noticed a spindly lattice of impossibly large branches overhead, interlinking with each other much like a strands of a Spinarak’s web. Lyle couldn’t say he’d ever seen a lattice of branches like that on the surface world before, and from the way the others were blinking and staring up blankly, he supposed none of his teammates had either.

“Where are we?” Irune murmured.

“Well, a Mystery Dungeon, obviously,” Kate scoffed. “I can’t remember the last normal place that had tree branches all tangled up in a web like that.”

Lyle looked over to Dalton, who seemed visibly tense and on-edge for a moment. Had he been here before? From the way he was reacting, it almost seemed as if he recognized the place.

“Did you come here once with the Riparian Raiders?” the Quilava asked.

“No,” the Heliolisk replied, as he started reaching for his satchel. “It’s just… I think we should take a moment to get our bearings and figure out what Mystery Dungeon we’re in. We didn’t get a sighting of the Lesser Mist before Hermes crashed, so it’d likely help us narrow things down a bit.”

The ‘Lesser Mist’? The arc of Mystery Dungeons further west of Newangle City that served as its shield from the western coast? Lyle wouldn’t have thought they’d have seen it from such a distance, but if he could see Raptor Rock from Hermes’ back…

“Scales, it can wait until after we’ve put a few floors between us and this entrance,” Kate huffed. “For all we know, those Grünhäuter found our ledge and are already starting to make their way in!”

Dalton paused, with his hands halfway through pulling out that handbook about Mystery Dungeons they’d lifted off those Team Pathfinder Hunters. From the way he reflexively peeked back at the entrance, the Sneasel’s remark must’ve unnerved him.

But at the same time Lyle couldn’t really argue with her point. He shook his head, before turning deeper into the jungle maze. The ledge they entered from hadn’t been that well-disguised.

“She’s right. Try to figure out where we are during some slower moments, but it’s not safe to just be waiting here like this.”

Dalton studied his surroundings carefully, before pushing the team’s handbook back into his satchel and shaking his head with a sigh.

“Alright, just… stay on your guard as you go ahead,” he insisted. “I can’t place it, but something about this Mystery Dungeon makes me feel like I’ve heard about it before.”

Everyone nodded back afterwards, before pressing on ahead into the gouges in the undergrowth. All the while, Lyle kept his fire burning strong and his ears pricked at attention. Maybe it was just the humidity getting to him, but something about this place made him feel like he was being watched.

---

This should’ve been a satisfying moment for Lacan. His sense that his soldiers would struggle to find the Dyad in time before she fled Moonturn Square had been on the mark, as had his instincts about the route her Carrier would take. The interception had gone smoothly enough, and from the chatter through his badge, he’d learned that said Carrier had been successfully taken into custody mere minutes after his shootdown…

Except, nobody had been able to find any of his passengers. Including the Dyad.

It’d been a tense hour since then, with naught but the unseasonal tropical heat surrounding the Mystery Dungeon, his own wingbeats, and the occasional broadcast from his badge from his Fähnlein‘s Psychic dispatchers to keep him company. He heard the brief hum of a badge on his line flicker to life, and then Sophia’s cawing voice speaking over the line.

“All units, this is ‘Rakete₁’. One of the search parties found the Dyad’s footprints near the falls. We followed them to a ledge overlooking the Mystery Dungeon.“

Lacan cast his glance towards the falls, and sure enough, noticed a number of figures gathered at a bluff in front of the treeline a little ways off from the river’s edge. The Salamence wheeled, flying along the plateau’s edge until his eyes came upon Sophia standing at the fore of a small party of soldiers in green plates gathered by a ledge overlooking a thick layer of fog. Lacan swooped down, landing in a patch of open grass near the edge as he trotted to a stop and trained a stern gaze at his Corvisquire subordinate as she saluted at attention with a wing over her heart—as was custom for those in His Majesty’s army physically capable of making the gesture.

“Oberstleutnant Sophia, what exactly is going on here?” the Salamence asked. “Why would you fire off your signal right after finding the Dyad’s trail?”

“Because we also found where her trail ended.”

Lacan blinked as Sophia raised a wing and motioned off for the ledge, a quick glance down revealing footsteps heading over it. The Salamence reflexively froze and felt his blood chill. He knew the Dyad had been growing increasingly desperate over the past year and surely was starting to become more cognizant of her nature, but surely she wouldn’t have done anything as rash as trying to harm herself, would she?

… No, it wasn’t like her. And there was no reason to believe that she’d learned anything specific about her nature or what His Majesty’s army intended to use it for that would plant such an idea in her head. The way that the footsteps turned back near the ledge all but confirmed it. They were a clear indication that she and her fellow Outlaws had stopped to climb down something. Lacan paced over and craned his head down to see a sea of fog beneath him, along with a set of mangled vines that flowed over the edge and abruptly stopped.

The Salamence peered down and stopped to fish a golden, faintly glowing orb from a satchel slung about the back of his neck. The Dragon-type gave it a small kick over the ledge, the glassy sphere vanishing into the mist before bouncing off a small outcropping in the cliff that launched it out about about his neck’s length before it vanished entirely. Lacan watched intently after the Luminous Orb, waiting for it to burst and flash its light, only for no sight or sound to come from it.

“So nah und doch so fern…“ᴰ¹

Lacan looked up and turned back to his underlings with a grumbling shake of his head. The Dyad and her companions had fallen into the Mystery Dungeon’s Distortion, so it was unlikely they’d die outright from their landing inside of it. With the way that space wrapped in on itself in such places, by the time it spat them up onto a floor, they’d likely fare much as if they’d fallen through a Pitfall Trap from one floor to the next. To top it off, from what he knew about this particular Mystery Dungeon, there would be dense thickets of foliage much like the surrounding forests to break their fall.

At the same time, sending a party to search this place of all Mystery Dungeons…

Lacan noticed his Corvisquire lieutenant staring at him worriedly, and he stopped to suck in a sharp breath before turning to a waiting Houndoom at the front of the group.

“It would seem the Dyad and those ruffians opted to try and shelter in Primordial Woods and got in over their heads in the process,” he remarked. “I’ll notify the others. Put up some markers around the perimeter for them to find and then report back.”

The Houndoom grunted and obliged, heading off towards a waiting Medicham before the pair disappeared into the brush. A few moments later, the Salamence sighed and pinched a wing at the left side of his scarf, briefly leaving behind an impression of a badge that had been pinned against its inner surface.

“All units, this is ‘Sucher₂’. Stay on the line for new search assignments and converge on our signal, our targets fled into Primordial Woods and appear to have bitten off more than they could chew.”

The drake let his wing linger as affirmations came through the badge, before letting the hidden metal lump go and furrowing his brow with a low sigh.

Prior to this mission, it had been years since he’d used that callsign on Varhyder soil, and he couldn’t say he ever imagined this was how he’d use it again. Chasing after a little whelp who’d spent the past year slipping through his claws from one improbable escape after another.

A whelp who was at once Varhyde’s aegis and her bane. Who had feints waged on Edialeigher soil for her sake lest their spies learn that the key for one of either Varhyde or Edialeigh forcing the other to its knees was already on their hated enemy’s soil.

“So what are we waiting for? Let’s find an entrance and start canvassing the place!”

Lacan snapped back to attention at the sharp pipe of a nearby Talonflame in green plates. The nearby soldiers visibly lacked the hawk’s enthusiasm, and audibly hemmed and hawed in reply. A Yanmega among their number was particularly taken aback, the Bug-type casting a glance at the swirling fog before she shrank back nervously.

“Wait, you mean to actually go in there? Herr Gemeinwebel, have you been drinking Drive again?” she protested. “That Mystery Dungeon down there’s Primordial Woods, for crying out loud!”

… Drive ‘again’? Sophia clearly needed to have a conversation with Frantz about his habits sometime later. Even if Lacan didn’t think much of the Bug-type and her fellow soldiers’ visible display of nerves, it was hard to fault them.

“Yeah? So?” the Talonflame scoffed. “It’s just another Mystery Dungeon, isn’t it?”

“You’d be wise not to jump to conclusions so swiftly.”

Lacan loomed over the Talonflame with a sharp glare that promptly shut him up after he noticed it. The Dragon-type glanced off to his left, where almost at once, he found just the sign he needed to disabuse the Talonflame of his undue confidence:

There in the brush was a group of trees that had been obviously disturbed by some sort of large creature with dark stains on it and clawed, three-toed footprints leading up to it in the dirt. The Talonflame blinked at the sight, as Lacan narrowed his eyes at him with a sharp huff.

“Go and inspect that damaged foliage there, Gemeinwebel Frantz,” the Salamence instructed. “I will accompany you so you can make your argument about how this is ‘just another Mystery Dungeon’ to my face.”

The Talonflame inched forward to inspect the site as Lacan shadowed him, only for the bird to freeze halfway there. He must’ve noticed the same thing that Lacan could already pick up on his nostrils from the ledge: the scent of blood in the brush. The Fire-type made his way over to the damaged foliage, and at once recoiled with a startled squawk. Clearly whatever Frantz found didn’t sit well with him. Lacan thought to press the Talonflame for a report, but opted to defer as Sophia flitted over and shook her head.

“I suppose that you’ve gathered by now, Gemeinwebel, but Primordial Woods is well-known to be a challenging Mystery Dungeon to pass through even in the best of times. Its Wilders have become more and more agitated in recent years,” the Corvisquire explained. “I’m sure that the Graf and I could traverse it if we had to, but even with our armor, I wouldn’t be confident that we wouldn’t incur casualties were we to search it thoroughly.”

“So unless you’d care to volunteer to take the lead, I’d strongly encourage you to be less glib about venturing into it,” Lacan added. “After all, I won’t be the one struggling to make it through there.”

The Talonflame gulped and nodded back overhastily when Lacan turned his head at the sound of crunching brush. The Salamence peered off towards the treeline, where he caught the sight of a haggard-looking Dragonite with a visible cut on his belly being marched along with his claws bound behind his back with a small party led by a Lucario. As they neared, the Lucario kicked the Dragonite’s shins to trip him forward and sent him flopping onto his belly in the dirt. A Scolipede from the party came up alongside the captive, throwing some of the Carrier’s tattered bags onto the ground before saluting his superior.

“Oberst Lacan, this is the Carrier that was transporting the Dyad and the others,” the Lucario said. “What shall we do with him?”

“I say we break those wings of his and then see how well he flies off that ledge here afterwards,” the Scolipede huffed. “That bastard and his buddies messed up Zig!”

Lacan growled for silence, before turning his head and frowning at his captive. The Salamence paced over and glared down at the Dragonite, who visibly froze and quivered as he neared. Even if the Carrier had lived to tell the tale, hiss landing hadn’t been kind to him, as his orange hide was visibly covered in scrapes and cuts and his right wing was held out stiff and wounded.

It was hard to believe that the pathetic wretch in front of him was of a species spoken of highly for its prowess and strength. Let alone the same one as his departed father. He leaned his head in and after noticing a strange smell, gave a wary sniff, and narrowed his eyes after he recognized it carried a distinctive sweet and spicy odor.

“You certainly have a way of courting trouble, Dragonite. I can smell that Lansat Syrup on your breath,” Lacan snarled. “State your full name and purpose.”

On the ground, the Dragonite quivered and shrank back, trying to scoot away from the Salamence with a low, frightened whine.

“H-Hermes Dragonirs the Swift,” the Dragonite gulped. “Wh-Whatever’s going on here, I don’t know anything about it! I-I was just trying to run some parcels out to the Capital!”

Lacan narrowed his eyes and turned his head aside with an unimpressed scoff at the Dragonite’s explanation.

“Hrmph, I hope your service as a Carrier’s better than your ability to tell a convincing lie,” the Graf snapped. “If you truly were just trying to deliver your goods, you would have yielded to us after our first warning shot.”

Something about the comment seemed to hit a nerve with Hermes. In spite of his bindings, the Dragonite suddenly fought against them, gritting his teeth and glaring with a palpable sense of indignation.

“Warning shot, my ass!” he fumed. “You ambushed me and were trying to shoot me out of the sky from the start-!”

Lacan lowered his head into Hermes’ face and let out a low snarl, flashing his fangs with hot, irritated breath. The color abruptly drained from the Dragonite’s face along with his defiance as he pinned his antennae back against his head with an audible squeak.

“I- I suppose there’s always room for it to have just been a misunderstanding,” he gulped.

Pathetic. And from the reactions of the nearby soldiers, Lacan gathered that his subordinates weren’t any more impressed than he was. A few of them gave unimpressed scoffs at the quailing Dragonite, while others cut in with churlish voices and threw taunting sneers at the captured Carrier.

“Aren’t you a brave one, Fettwanst₃.“

“What’s the matter, Outlaw? Not so tough when you don’t have numbers on your side?”

“Ten Carolins says he craps himself during interrogation.”

Lacan silenced the chatter with a low snarl and turned his attention to the Dragonite. He probably wouldn’t have taken that bet against Hermes’ cowardice himself, but that was fine by him.

After all, in both Varhyde and Edialeigh, his type were always the quickest to run their mouths off about all sorts of topics. Especially when given appropriate motivation.

“Is that also your excuse for aiding and abetting Pokémon committing seditious acts against His Majesty’s realm?” the Salamence spat.

Hermes’ eyes widened briefly as Lacan threw a foreleg forward and kicked his captive over. The Graf bared his fangs, watching as the Carrier screwed his eyes shut out of fright, and threw his mouth forward at the Dragonite’s neck. Lacan felt the fabric of Hermes’ scarf brush against his teeth, and for a brief moment, the Dragonite’s neck scales.

But there was no need to go that far—not yet, anyways. He still needed this waste of flesh well enough to tell him what he needed. And he hadn’t decided yet what he’d do with him afterwards.

Lacan bit down on the hem of Hermes’ scarf as the Dragonite let out a sharp squeal. The Salamence briefly heard the wounded drake audibly whimper and felt his scales tremble, before giving a sharp tug at the hem. The sound of tearing fabric rang out as Lacan wrenched the teal and white cloth from the Dragonite’s neck and pulled it off in a mangled strip. It took a moment for the Carrier to register he could no longer feel the Salamence’s breath against his scales as he let panicked breaths in and out on the ground. Lacan watched Hermes tremble and squirm, when sure enough the Dragonite cracked his eyes open warily to see what Lacan could feel in his mouth.

The teal-and-white colors that had been on his neck just moments prior.

“A-Ack! Wh-What are you doing?!” Hermes yelped. “That’s my scarf!”

“Hrmph, aren’t you an observant one?” Lacan scoffed. “I noticed that your colors didn’t seem quite right.”

The Salamence spat the torn cloth into the dirt with a dirty glare. “Perhaps you should ask your Outlaw companions for a matching replacement after you rejoin them.”

Lacan’s remark drew a moment’s hesitation from his Corvisquire companion, before the Graf turned his attention to the Scolipede and Grimmsnarl standing guard over the Dragonite.

“I have no more use for this wretch,” he harrumphed. “Push him in with the rest of those Outlaw scum!”

The pair nodded before they hoisted the bulky Dragon-type up by his bindings and began to shove him forward. It was a gamble, but if the Dragonite knew anything about the Dyad or her companions, putting the fear of the gods into him was the fastest way of getting it. And if he clammed up or genuinely didn’t know anything… well it’d save him the trouble of having to use an Apricorn to dispose of him.

Lacan watched as the color visibly drained from Hermes’ face after seeing the approaching ledge. He fought against his restraints and wrenched his head back, crying out in an audibly panicked tone.

“Y-You can’t push me in there like this!” Hermes yelped. “That’s Primordial Woods! Those Pokémon inside will tear me up if they think I’m a Wilder!”

Lacan scowled wordlessly after the Dragonite when he heard rustling feathers. He cast a glance from the side of his eye and noticed Sophia seemed to be wavering after hearing the Dragonite’s protest. The crow briefly saw him staring at her, before hardening her gaze back at Hermes and shaking her head with an unimpressed scoff.

“You’re a Dragonite,” she said. “Show a little self-respect.”

“I-I used to be on an Exploration Team when I was younger and evolved early from Distortion exposure in the past!” Hermes insisted. “Pl-Please, I’m not really as tough as I look!”

Sophia looked away with a low mutter. “Then you’ll have the skills to take care of yourself. I’m sure you’ll last until you can be rescued by an Exploration Team.”

Lacan briefly cocked a brow, as something about Sophia’s voice felt like she was trying to convince herself of her own words. The Scolipede and Grimmsnarl shoved Hermes forward towards the ledge, and he was now but a few paces from pitching over it. The Dragonite tried to dig his feet in, only for his attempts to fight against his guards to come to naught as he drew closer and closer to the plateau’s edge and the foggy abyss below. About five paces out, Hermes visibly bowled over and pulled his tail in towards his body and his head into his chest, much like he might’ve if his stomach had grown upset. And still, he kept begging, his voice beginning to come out audibly hitching and whining.

“Pl-Please! I’m a loyal subject of King Siegmund!” the Dragonite pleaded. “Th-The only reason why I’m not serving in the army like you is because I failed my vision test!”

“Well, that’s not my problem, now is it?” Lacan scoffed. “Though I would be more inclined to listen to your groveling if I knew you weren’t from among those Outlaws’ numbers.”

“Th-Those three paid me for a ride out to Toya Square! The Axew with them mentioned she wanted to go to the Divine Roost! I s-swear! Th-That’s all I know! Th-That’s all I-“

Lacan looked on wordlessly as the Dragonite began to choke back frightened sobs. He watched with a hardened scowl as the Carrier went up to the ledge, when he felt feathers prodding at his leg, and saw Sophia sidling up against him with an uneasy look.

“Graf Wellenhafen, I think he’s being earnest,” the crow insisted.

The Salamence barked out to the Scolipede and Grimmsnarl to halt. The pair stopped with puzzled frowns, as Lacan turned his head over to his Corvisquire subordinate.

“Sophia, what are you getting at?”

“He did cooperate with us, Graf. And last I heard, Soldat₄ Zig’s injuries ultimately weren’t life-threatening,” Sophia explained. “Aside from this Carrier’s possession of contraband, the offenses he committed were a result of being duped.”

Lacan said nothing and frowned down at the Corvisquire for a moment. She hesitated briefly, before ruffling her feathers and speaking up.

“I’m aware that our mission is a sensitive matter, but considering this Carrier’s substance habit, it would likely raise fewer questions to just let him go,” she insisted. “After all, how many Pokémon are going to believe a syrup-drinker if he says he was set upon by soldiers from His Majesty’s army?”

Lacan looked back at the still-trembling and sniffling Dragonite, and made his way over. The Grimmsnarl and Scolipede soldier traded glances, when Lacan stamped the ground impatiently. He hadn’t decided what to do with his captive just yet, but either way, the march to the ledge had given him what he wanted. Now it was time to settle this wretch’s fate with his own claws.

“Turn him around.”

Lacan watched as the Scolipede and Grimmsnarl did as ordered and turned the Dragonite to face him. Hermes’ eyes were screwed tightly shut and visibly damp, and the Dragon-type was quietly gagging. Lacan had heard that serpentine Pokemon often grew nauseous when frightened, somehow he didn’t realize that the whimpering wreck in front of him would be much the same.

The Graf sized up his quivering captive and the foggy abyss below. He turned and noted Sophia looking and hesitated a moment, before he made his mind up.

“Unbind this commoner and send him on his way with what’s left of his scarf and his cargo,” he growled. “I’ve gotten what I need from him.”

The Scolipede and Grimmsnarl blinked briefly, as Sophia flitted in with a sharp glare, with a set of Hermes’ bags in her claws.

“That wasn’t a suggestion,” she snapped. “You heard Graf Wellenhafen, now heed his orders!”

The soldiers hastily stammered back affirmations as the Grimmsnarl hurriedly undid the knots of the Dragonite’s bindings. Hermes slumped forward, trembling on the ground as Sophia threw his bags in front of him.

“The nearest route is about five minutes walking north of here through the forest. You’ll surely find it from the paths our more ground-bound members had to tread in order to get to you,” Sophia chimed in. “Begone and do make a point of keeping better company in the future, Dragonite.”

Lacan watched as Hermes whimpered and nodded back before hastily scooping up his belongings and limping away through the brush. A few of the nearby soldiers floated snide remarks about how unbecoming the Dragonite’s display was for a Pokemon of his kind, along with a passing exchange to “pay up those ten Carolins”. Somebody had evidently won his bet on the Dragonite keeping some scrap of his dignity. Barely.

Lacan shook his head and nosed at Sophia and motioned for her to follow the plateau’s ledge towards the falls in the distance. The pair drifted off from the other soldiers, before Lacan narrowed his eyes with a low harrumph.

He knew that Sophia had had a sense of chivalry drilled into her from her knightly order, but moments like these always worried him…

“Du bist zu nett zu deinem eigenen Besten, Sophia. Dieses Zögern von dir wird eines Tages dein Ende als Ritterin bedeuten.“ᴰ²

Hermes wasn’t the first Pokémon he’d relented from for the sake of his Corvisquire companion, and Lacan doubted the Dragonite be the last. Sophia had been the first Pokémon there for him since that awful day when he’d had to flee his home, and a stalwart companion in the years since then who’d been at his side during most of his lowest moments. The one he’d passed the Eviolite that King Siegmund had originally gifted him precisely because of a time when he wasn’t able to do the same for her.

Perhaps he ought to have been less surprised that he still didn’t have the heart to challenge her over it.

Lacan didn’t know how much of that Sophia was aware of, but she didn’t seem to be thinking about it right then. The Corvisquire turned her head back up to him and hesitated a moment. After a brief pause, she ruffled her feathers uncomfortably and cast a glance past her superior’s wings with a shake of her head.

“Lacan, we’re still in earshot,” she whispered back in protest. “If there was something you wanted to talk about-“

Lacan cut her off with a beat of his wings, which prompted her to bite her tongue. He cast a glance back off at the other soldiers as they settled in and broke off into small groups, before opening his mouth to chide her.

“Aus diesem Grund wurden die restlichen Soldaten dieses Fähnleins aus Alltagsleuten mit schlechten Kenntnissen der Hochsprache gezogen, Sophia. Genau deshalb können wir Gespräche über eine so heikle Mission ohne Angst vor Abhörungen führen.“ᴰ³

The roar of the falls’ water had grown louder, with a quick glance up ahead revealing they were approaching the edge of the river where the water ran over the falls and into the Mystery Dungeon’s fog below. From how loud their roar was, Lacan figured this was probably as good an opportunity as they were going to get to converse openly, and he opted to take it.

“It sounded as if you had something of your own you wished to say, Sophia,” he said. “What is it? Though do be mindful if it’s something you want the others to also hear.”

The Corvisquire raised a wing and opened her beak to answer, only to catch herself. After a brief pause, she shook her head and cast a glance back at the other soldiers behind them in the distance, before speaking up again in a guarded tone.

“Ich … weiß nicht, wie wir diese Situation retten können, Lacan. Diese Ganoven sind jetzt wahrscheinlich tief im Mysteriösen Ort und die Dyade wird in den Klauen dieser Wilden im Inneren sicherlich in Gefahr sein.“ᴰ⁴

The Salamence batted his tail and gave a low snort in reply to the Corvisquire, all but rolling his eyes in response. While it was a fair worry, after how much the Dyad had kept exceeding their expectations, he was surprised that Sophia kept thinking of her as some helpless child. The Dyad had already rebuffed them when they attempted to deal with her as such, and the Generalstab₅ wouldn’t have pulled out years-old war plans for Operation Spark if that was all she were.

Nor would they have tasked him and Sophia with combing the kingdom for her for the past year or changed their campaign strategies in Edialeigh in preparation for her deployment onto the frontlines over that same time when Varhyde needed every claw it could to press down on her ancient nemesis’ throat.

“Oh come now, you don’t need to try and disguise a matter like that from prying ears, Sophia,” Lacan chided. “It’s not exactly a crown secret that exits out of Primordial Woods are fairly well-mapped, so it’s just a matter of posting forces where the Dyad and those Outlaws would pass nearby to intercept them.”

The Salamence looked out over the expanse below the fog, and motioned with a foreleg off at rolling plains near a large lake in the distance.

“We’d do well to review what other Mystery Dungeons link to this one and try and dispatch units there as well. Or at least send notice to any local garrisons to be on the lookout for the Dyad and her companions,” he mused. “I know offhand that Raptor Rock is one of them, and it has exits that open up not far from Newangle City.”

Lacan’s expression hardened as he remained firmly fixed out at the dungeon fog at the base of the falls, letting out a low growl from the back of his throat. The Corvisquire’s worry didn’t shift much, and it was honestly hard to fault her. They had already run their forces and themselves hard just to make it to this ambush and were waiting on a good three quarters of their Fähnlein to catch up from Moonturn Square. If they pushed on immediately without rest and making contact with the rest of their forces, they ran the risk of whatever forces they could marshal out towards search areas further afield would arrive exhausted and overstretched.

“We’ll be cutting it close,” he murmured. “If they have a run of good luck, they could be in an entirely different Provinz₆ by the morning.”

Except, that wasn’t the matter that worried him the most about their current circumstances. No, that had to do with the Dyad’s present state. Something that he supposed had to be addressed sooner or later…

“Was Angelegenheiten betrifft, die zwischen uns sollten, zeigte die Dyade kurz vor ihrer Flucht Anzeichen eines Wiedererwachens. Bei so viel Kummer, den sie uns bereitet, sollten wir davon ausgehen, dass sie stark genug geworden ist, um durch den Großurwald in Sicherheit zu gelangen.“ᴰ⁵

Sophia gave a concerned tilt of her head back, and after a brief moment of cawing hesitation, spoke up warily in reply.

“Kann man überhaupt davon ausgehen, dass sie immer noch eine Dyade sein wird, wenn sie am anderen Ende auftaucht? Wenn sie wieder erwachte, bevor sie an die Frontlinie gebracht werden kann…“ᴰ⁶

Lacan stiffened up and turned back from the view off in the distance. Time had been ticking against them since when they first came across the Dyad in that riverside hamlet they initially found her in. Likely for much longer than that. And if that time ran out before she could be moved in place as part of Operation Spark…

No. There was no point in worrying about such dark possibilities. Things weren’t that dire. Not yet, anyways. From the state the Dyad was in at the time they caught her, they could at least take that for granted right now.

“Zu der Zeit, als wir sie verloren haben, war nicht bekannt, dass sie ihre ganze Macht offenbarte. Ich möchte nicht annehmen, dass wir einen großen Spielraum für Fehler haben, aber die Situation ist noch nicht so kritisch, dass dies Anlass zur Sorge geben würde.“ᴰ⁷

The Dragon-type said nothing for a moment, as a cruel, knowing smile spread over his mouth.

“Besides, I assume she’ll have more immediate worries on her mind once she makes it back to the outside world. She’ll likely be looking for someplace to patch up what’s left of her new friends. It’ll help us narrow down our search area considerably.”

---

Creeeaaak!

Dalton flinched after hearing the earthen stairs seal behind him. They climbed upwards between floors in this Mystery Dungeon, into rock ledges and mats of vegetation that formed ceilings, not that the misty sky ringed by stone outcroppings in the impossible distance above would’ve made one think that at first.

It’d been three floors since they first entered this place, two of them fortunately having gone by quickly from finding the stairs in short order, the first of which they’d found had quite fortuitously taken them into a chamber with another set of stairs at the other end. Their current floor had been less fortunate, and they’d been combing along paths in thickets and undergrowth long enough that Lyle was beginning to grow increasingly paranoid over anything that sounded like it might be Dungeon Winds.

“Wait a minute, are those ruins? Just what sort of dungeon did we jump into that’d have those?“

Dalton blinked and watched as Lyle stepped forward warily, crouched low and sniffing at the ground next to a few colorful shards: the remains of broken Emeras, it looked like. A little ways forward, Dalton noticed Lyle come across something like hard stone underfoot, and stepped onto it with his teammates and found that it felt much the same. A quick glance at the pits and cracks at the slab they were on gave away its composition—concrete.

After scanning their surroundings, they realized they were in the remains of some sort of chamber. One of them had a faded, red sigil that looked like two comets swirling in on each other nestled among the jungle’s overgrowth, making the Heliolisk stop with a startled blink.

“What in the-? What’s that doing here?” he asked.

Irune looked back at Dalton, before giving a puzzled tilt of her head.

“Huh? Is there something wrong, Dalton?”

The sigil was one that some human relics and ruins in Varhyde sported, including on some of the tallest ruins still standing in Newangle City. It was the sigil of a mysterious human institution predating the Great Flash called ‘Vector Ah-ghee’. Dalton remembered from his studies back in better times of his life that all the Kingdom’s historians couldn’t agree what on earth it even was, and all manner of competing theories as to what purpose it served for humans had cropped up: a royal house, a merchant guild, an institute of learning. Only a few things were definitively known about it, among them that the founding King of Varhyde apparently had some sort of tie with it.

But a Mystery Dungeon with human ruins inside near Toya Square? He’d only heard about it in stories from some of his fellows from the Riparian Raiders, but… surely they didn’t have the misfortune to wander into there…

Dalton looked down and noticed that near the edge of the concrete, there was a footprint with three prominent claws stamped down into it. He froze and grimaced. That left no confusion as to where they were.

“I… know where we are right now,” Dalton said. “We’re in Primordial Woods.”

“Primordial Woods?” Irune asked, tilting her head puzzledly.

“It’s a Mystery Dungeon that formed around a set of human ruins that have since become overgrown. According to legend, it used to be a place where humans brought dead Pokemon back to life,” the Heliolisk explained. “Nobody knows how true those stories are, but the place is full of Pokémon that are rarely encountered as Wilders elsewhere in Varhyde.”

A low scoff followed almost immediately after Dalton’s explanation. A quick glance to his right revealed the culprit was Kate, who was in the middle of rolling her eyes and blowing a puff of frigid breath up at her ear feather.

“I think we could’ve done without the folklore lesson there, Scales. And I haven’t heard a whole lot about why we’re supposed to treat this place any different than another Mystery Dungeon,” she harrumphed. “Go through, give the occasional Wilder a scare, and duck out the exit once we find it. Crappy weather and weird ‘mons aside, how’s this any different from going through a place like Waterhead Cave?”

“Stick around and find out, Invader scum!”

Dalton and his teammates froze as they heard a sharp snarl. Kate turned her head and her eyes instantly shrank to pins at the sight of something off in the distance. Dalton followed her gaze and immediately felt his blood run cold as the ground trembled underfoot. There, a hulking red beast with white feathers about its neck sprang out from the brush with a mob of other Pokémon all around the chamber. Strange Pokémon that he’d only run into as Civils in towns or on roads between them: a Tyrantrum, a trio of Tyrunt, an Aurorus, an Archen, a Cranidos…

If the stories he’d heard about this place were anything to go by, Dalton was sure he was going to wish things had stayed that way. The Tyrantrum from their number stepped forward, giving a low snarl as she rounded onto the four Outlaws.

“We don’t take kindly to your type around here,” the Rock-type growled. “So it’s about time we got it through those thick heads of yours!”

They’d blundered into a Wilders’ ambush. What did Hunters call these things again? Monster-Räume₇? Monster Houses? Whatever the term, it was all the same: a swarm of angry Wilders itching for a fight. Just like the ones in front of them, because of course they would run into one in a place like this.

“As I was going to say,” Dalton piped. “Primorial Woods is also infamous for being a treacherous place to travel through! One where Civils that pass through it are commonly attacked!”

“So you’ve heard of this place,” one of the Tyrunt snarled. “Then let us teach you to listen to your warnings!”

The Tyrunt lunged at Irune, only for Kate to cut in with a sideways chop of her claws. The Sneasel’s Brick Break struck the Tyrunt in the side of her head and launched her back, sending the Wilder flopping onto the ground with a low, pained whimper as she weakly twitched her limbs.

“Get them!“

Any hopes that the Tyrunt’s defeat would cow the other Wilders swiftly died as the Tyrantrum charged in with jaws bared. Dalton hurriedly threw a bolt of electricity at the Rock-type and scampered back, seeing his teammates doing much the same as the other Wilders charged them snarling and throwing attacks forward. A yelp from his right turned his attention to Lyle hurriedly rolling out of the way just as a Cranidos charged in with his head lowered. The Quilava hastily spat up a Will-O-Wisp and turned and bolted after his teammates as startled fire poured out his vents.

“Gah! K-Keep your guard up!” Lyle cried. “We’re gonna need to dig in at a better place than this!”

Dalton hurriedly scanned his surroundings: undergrowth, concrete walls, tree trunks, when his eyes noticed a path sprouting off towards the left between a gap of ruined concrete segments. It wasn’t as foolproof as hunkering down between cavern walls like in Waterhead Cave, but…

“Over there on the left!” the Heliolisk cried. “We can use the mouth of that path as a choke point!”

“Dalton! Look out!”

Dalton blinked after hearing Irune cry out and yelped as he suddenly felt something lift him by his bag. He felt hot breath against his scales, then looked up and screamed. There right above him, was the Tyrantrum sinking her teeth into his bag, her teeth just barely missing his scales.

Dalton reflexively threw his frill wide in a hail of sparks and a deafening crackle. The attack worked well enough, as the Tyrantrum let him go with a startled shout along with other cries filling the clearing and left him to tumble to the ground in a panting daze alongside a mix of items and coins that had spilled from his bag.

The Heliolisk blindly scrabbled to his feet. As he regained his bearings, he saw his Discharge had left an Archen and a Kabuto slumped over limply, and that the Tyrantrum herself was reeling with a pained whine about “he’s not supposed to hit that hard”.

Before the Electric-type could say anything, he watched as Kate blew an Icy Wind at some of the other Wilders in the group. Irune was also there, darting in and swiftly scooping a blue object off the ground that she flung at the Tyrantrum.

The object struck the dinosaur’s snout with an audible pop and then she vanished in a flash of light. A Warp Seed? Perhaps those Hunters they ripped off weren’t as poorly equipped as he originally thought.

“Dalton! Help us out here!”

Dalton stumbled up after a sharp tug from Irune, before she took off after Kate for the path’s entrance. Just behind him, a bellowing roar turned Dalton’s attention over to Lyle pinwheeling through the air after being hit by a spray of rocks from an Aurorus. The Quilava hit the ground and yelped in pain, Dalton narrowing his eyes as he ran at harrying Wilder.

“Oh no you don’t!”

Dalton stomped the ground and sent a shockwave along its surface that churned the earth around the towering Rock-type, who recoiled with a pained bellow. From the ground, Lyle hurriedly righted himself and threw himself forward with a fiery somersault square into the sauropod’s chest. The Aurorus jolted up with a pained scream, before wavering and flopping over onto his side with a dazed groan.

Dalton supposed the stories about evolved Wilders in Mystery Dungeons sometimes evolving unnaturally early really were true. He’d certainly have expected an Aurorus to put up more of a fight than that.

“You! I’ll chew your tusks when I’m done with you!”

A sharp snarl turned the pair’s attention over towards a blue Tyrunt pouncing on Irune and snapping at her, with a Shieldon and an Amaura running in seemingly to aid their fellow Wilder. Irune dug her feet into the dirt, trashing her head wildly as Lyle’s eyes shot wide.

“Get off of her, you little runt!”

Lyle spat up a spray of cinders at the blue Tyrunt’s back, which stunned him briefly. Long enough for Irune to force him off with a pair of chopping slashes with her tusks. Dalton began to build up electricity to dispatch the lot of Irune’s attackers when the Tyrunt of the group got up with a low growl.

“Hrmph, have fun fighting these Invaders on your own, sharptooth!”

“Yeah! Go take it up with your leader that just got warped away!

Except this time, the Shieldon and Amaura didn’t come back to his aid, and blew raspberries before darting away. The Tyrunt glanced over his shoulder and flopped his jaw open as the pair fled, his earlier confidence abruptly vanishing.

“H-Huh?! Hey what the-?!” the Tyrunt yelped. “You two are supposed to be helping me-!”

Dalton didn’t wait for the Tyrunt to finish his words and threw a Thunderbolt at him that made the Rock-type thrash and squeal in pain. The dinosaur keeled over with a low whimper, struggling to get up when a blue gout of dragonfire sailed in and struck him in the face. The Tyrunt crumpled up limply, as Irune panted and narrowed her eyes back at her Heliolisk and Quilava teammates.

“I-I was handling myself fine, you know!” she insisted.

“Well excuse me for assuming his buddies weren’t going to run off!” Lyle snapped back.

A pained howl rang out from the opposite end of the path’s entrance, the three looking over to see a third Tyrunt staggering and flopping over wreathed in frost. There, Kate was braced for battle, turning her attention to a nearby Tirtouga and Archen, but as soon as the pair saw the Tyrunt hit the ground, they looked back at their comrades deeper in the chamber.

It was then that Dalton saw it. The rest of the Wilders were turning and fleeing. There was a brief moment of hesitation, when the Tirtouga and Archen’s will to fight seemingly evaporated in front of Team Forager’s eyes as the pair backed off and shot dirty glares at the fainted Tyrunt.

“H-Have fun dealing with those Invaders, jerks!” the Archen spat. “We’re out of here!”

“Yeah, serves you sharptooths right!” the Tirtouga huffed.

The Archen and Tirtouga hastily darted off, joined by the Shieldon and Amaura, and then the rest of the still-standing Wilders. Team Forager looked on blankly at the emptied chamber and the seven fainted Pokemon littering it.

The Wilders that organized Monster Houses were supposed to generally be more aggressive types. They’d fought their way through less than half of their ranks, without properly defeating their ringleader and here the rest of them had just abruptly given up and turned tail!

“What on earth?” Lyle murmured.

“Tch, so they scare easily once the tough guys among them get taken out,” Kate said, shaking her head with a dismissive snort. “Figures.”

Dalton looked about the fainted Pokemon, and noted that of them, three were Tyrunt and the Tyrantrum they assumed was their ringleader was currently gods-knew-where on the floor from the Warp Seed.

Why, the way that the fleeing Wilders had behaved at the corridor entrance felt… familiar. Uncomfortably so. It almost reminded Dalton of stories he’d heard of mutinous conscripts turning tail after seeing their superiors fall in combat.

“I don’t think that’s it, Kate,” he insisted. “It’s almost as if they… abandoned them.”

Dalton and his teammates shuffled uncomfortably for a moment, before they turned to move along. Whatever was going on was a problem for those Wilders to figure out amongst themselves, and not for them to get tangled up in. Not while that Tyrantrum was still out there prowling the floor. The Heliolisk turned at the head of the group and began to make his way for the left corridor with his fellows, when pattering footsteps and a wary voice reached their ears.

“Uh… H-Hi?”

Dalton and the rest of Team Forager whirled around, just in time to see the Cranidos from the Monster House darting at them. Dalton braced himself alongside his teammates, the Heliolisk stepping forward as electricity crackled on his hide.

“Gah! Looks like our battle isn’t over!”

And then much to Dalton’s surprise, the Cranidos’ eyes shot wide as the Rock-type jumped back with a startled yelp. Dalton blinked a moment as he watched the dinosaur shrink back, doing his best to make himself look small as he stammered out a hasty explanation.

“A-Ack! It’s not like that at all!” the Cranidos yelped. “It’s just that… you’re scarf-wearers and you’re supposed to take Pokémon that want to come with you, right?”

Dalton eased up as the sparks on his hide dissipated and looked over at his teammates to see them trading wary glances with one another. None of them were quite sure what to make of the Cranidos’ words, when Dalton spotted a brief flash of realization coming over Lyle’s face. The stoat took a brief moment to shake his head, before narrowing his eyes and pinning his ears back with a sharp scoff.

“Are you asking us to recruit you?” the Quilava pressed. “You sure have a funny way of showing interest from the way you tried to jump us with your buddies a couple moments ago!”

“W-Well you can’t expect me to just join someone who isn’t strong enough to look out for me!” Cranidos shot back, lowering his head with a defensive huff. “The world’s big and dangerous, so of course I want to go along with someone tough who will have my back!”

Dalton frowned, but he supposed it was a hard point to argue from a Wilder’s perspective. After all, losing a battle as a Wilder often had consequences as dire as falling on a battlefield, if not moreso. Perhaps it’d also explain why the Cranidos was so on-edge. The dinosaur glanced about his surroundings nervously, before turning back to Team Forager’s members with an uneasy fidget of his claws.

“Look, the point is, I… I want to get away from here, and you don’t really seem to know how to get around, so we’d be able to help each other,” the Cranidos explained. “So then… if I help show you the way out, can I be a part of your team?”

Dalton traded glances with Lyle and Kate at the Cranidos’ offer as they weighed the Rock-type’s proposal. He… wasn’t sure how he felt about the idea, really. The Cranidos looked young, enough so that were he a Civil, Dalton wasn’t sure the army would even accept him into a Tross as a camp follower. Was it really a good idea to get someone like him sucked up into their problems?

… At the same time, the Cranidos clearly had problems of his own, and they were in a unique position to help each other. Not to mention, they couldn’t make it to the Divine Roost if they didn’t make it out of Primordial Woods in one piece in the first place.

Dalton hemmed and hawed to himself briefly and was about to open his mouth to speak just as a small smile crossed Kate’s muzzle and she folded her arms in reply.

“Heh, I don’t see anything wrong with it,” she chuckled. “We’ve already got one ankle-biter on our team. What’s the harm in having another that hits like a charging Rhyhorn?”

Dalton wasn’t sure how he felt that he was agreeing with the loose cannon of his team and he probably ought to have been more worried about it. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the idea of having to introduce a Wilder to civilization, but the four of them weren’t exactly super welcome to it themselves anyways…

“Having a guide would help us here considering this is Primordial Woods,” he mused to himself. “What do you think, Lyle?”

Dalton watched as Lyle sized up the Cranidos and hesitated for a moment. Lyle seemed to visibly waver briefly, before he pawed at the back of his head with a small smile.

“Well… I guess it would help if we had another set of paws on the team-” the Fire-type started, only to be cut off by a sharp growl.

“Where is the closest exit from here?”

Dalton turned his eyes downward alongside Lyle and Kate just in time to see Irune stomping forward. She stormed ahead, encroaching on the Cranidos with a sharp scowl that made the Rock-type visibly squirm and shrink back uneasily.

“H-Huh?”

“The fastest way out of here,” the Axew demanded. “Where is it?“

… What on earth was she doing? The Cranidos was all but ready to join them and now Irune was deciding she didn’t trust him? A flash of alarm came over the dinosaur’s face as he seemed to suspect that his chance for coming along was slipping away, as he began to uneasily stammer in reply.

“I-I mean, th-there’s a passage ten floors up that links to another place like this beyond the mist,” he explained. “But there’s better places to- Agh!”

And then the clearing came alive with a flash of blue light as Irune spat up a gout of dragonfire at the Cranidos, striking him in his right arm. Dalton and his teammates’ jaws dropped at the sight, the Cranidos doing much the same as he recoiled with a loud yelp and shrank back wide-eyed as the Axew rounded on him with a sharp snarl.

“Good. Now turn around and leave!” she shouted. “This team isn’t capable of doing anything for you, and the quicker you get that through your head, the better!”

That was enough from her, really. Dalton hurried over and sharply pulled the Axew back, but it was too late. The Cranidos scrabbled out of the chamber as fast as his legs could carry him, leaving Kate to run after waving after the fleeing Rock-type.

“Wait! Come back!”

Kate stared blankly after the Wilder as he disappeared into the brush. Lyle approached Irune with his vents visibly smoldering in frustration and Kate looked little better when she turned around. For a second, Dalton raised his voice to try and urge the pair to calm down, but Kate was already upon Irune, latching onto the Axew’s scarf and hoisting her off the ground wide-eyed.

“What is your problem, you little brat?!” the Sneasel hissed. “We had a guide get us out of this miserable hole!”

Dalton honestly couldn’t say he wasn’t wondering the same that himself at that moment. The Axew looked down at Kate’s claws near her neck and her mouth briefly flopped open with a start. She fought back a stammer, as her eyes narrowed and her voice came out thick with angry defiance.

“A-And after that, then what?! Were you seriously planning on dragging a young ‘mon like that along all the way across Varhyde?!” Irune demanded.

Kate tightened her grip and bared her fangs in reply, her red eyes glaring daggers into the Dragon-type in her grasp.

“And so what if we were?!” he spat. “We could’ve looked out for each other since we would’ve had another teammate!“

“You mean another Pokémon you can use as a distraction and abandon once the going gets tough like you did with the rest of your friends?!” Irune retorted. “Some teammate that is!”

Kate’s expression faltered for a moment, as Dalton grit his teeth as sparks began to dance on his hide. Artem… and everyone else from the Riparian Raiders a distraction? When he was the one who wanted to hold out for them? How dare she?

The Heliolisk made his way over, only for Lyle to cut in with a swift dash and knock Irune out of Kate’s claws. The Axew fell to the ground with a quiet yelp, as the Quilava stood between her and his teammates with his vents blazing, shooting a sharp glare between his fellow Outlaws.

“Alright, that’s enough! All of you!” Lyle barked. “I’d like to remind everyone that we still need her to make it to the Divine Roost.”

… Lyle was right, even if the shrine seemed no closer now in their present situation. Dalton backed off with a begrudging growl, as the Quilava turned his attention over at the Axew and leveled a piercing glare at her.

“And you’ve already caused enough trouble for one day,” the Fire-type snapped. “Do you have anything else you want to get out? At this rate, we’ll be lucky to make it off this floor with you blowing things up on us like that!”

Irune faltered and stared back up into the Quilava’s eyes. She shook her head briefly, and after digging her feet into the dirt, grit her teeth and spat back in reply.

“Y-Yes, I do! It’s called ‘stop being such repulsive leeches and think about something other than your next payday for once’!” the Axew shouted. “You were ready to put a ‘mon who was blindly looking for a way to leave this place into danger just so that way you could find your way out faster!”

… The story with the Balance Bandits was all some stupid act, wasn’t it? Even if becoming an Outlaw himself had been a jarring experience at first, Dalton would never speak of his comrades-in-arms like that. Dalton snapped to attention from a sharp huff as Irune stomped down the leftward corridor, turning a disgusted glare back at him and his fellows.

“A-At least try to give me a reason to not have to look over my shoulder all the way out to the Divine Roost!” she snapped.

Dalton shot a venomous scowl after the Axew as she continued down the passage. What the hell would she know about what he’d been through? About the years he’d spent trying to get back some of what those damned Grünhäuter had taken from him and his family when there were no other options left?

Dalton’s turned his head at the sound of a sharp, unimpressed hiss. After a quick glance to his side, he saw Kate glaring daggers after the Dragon-type before turning to him with a low mutter.

“Hrmph, was she ever an Outlaw to begin with?” she harrumphed. “Or has she been lying to us this entire time?”

… She couldn’t have lied about everything. She’d done something to get the army to pursue her. But it didn’t make sense to get to the bottom of that right here and now. Especially when it didn’t sound like Irune particularly wanted their help.

“I don’t know why she even bothered asking to work with us with an attitude like that,” Dalton huffed. “Perhaps we’re better off just letting her walk and taking our chances getting to the Divine Roost on our own.”

“No.”

Dalton blinked as he turned with Kate to see Lyle pacing forward and shaking his head insistently. The Quilava stared after the Axew drifting off and let out a grumbling sigh.

“I don’t like it either, but we don’t have any other options right now. She knows what’s out there in the Divine Roost better than any of us,” the Quilava said.

There was a moment of silence, as Lyle closed his eyes and shook his head with a low sigh.

“Whatever’s going on between her and the army, we’ve seen too much for them to just let it go,” the Quilava said. “We go along with her, get our share, and go our separate ways. Until then, just try and ignore her when she runs her mouth off like that.”

Dalton heard a low growl and froze after he felt trembling footsteps. He and his teammates peeked around the cormer and turned their attention back to the far end of the chamber where they glimpsed the Tyrantrum from earlier returning into the clearing.

“Oi! You all just let yourself get wiped by those Invaders?! Get up!“

Dalton grimaced before looking around the rest of the chamber. The other Wilders from the Monster House were groaning and already starting to regain lucidity—as good a sign as any that it was time to leave.

“Not to be a nag, but we should get out of here. Now,” Dalton said. “I don’t exactly feel like fighting them all those Wilders off a second time.”

“Hrmph, music to my ears,” Kate grumbled. “Besides, even if I’m not thrilled about it, it wouldn’t do any good to lose our little treasure guide in the middle of a Mystery Dungeon like this one.”

One by one, Dalton and his fellow Outlaws hurriedly ducked down the corridor after their Axew counterpart. All the while, as the jungle and the ancient ruins flecking it drifted past around him, Dalton couldn’t help but bristle at Irune’s earlier tirade. He had endured all manner of abuse and invective hurled his way as an Outlaw, but something about the Axew’s tone sounded almost like an angered parent.

His parents had never learned about his present… employment, and with how long ago since he’d heard from them at all, he wondered if they were still around to judge him. Even so, he’d spent many a night quietly terrified about what they’d think if they ever found out. That their remaining son they’d invested their hopes in was now some bandit prowling the hinterlands.

The Electric-type drifted in his thoughts for a moment, before shaking his head sharply. It was probably just idle yearnings that the past could’ve been different rearing their head again. After all, what would Irune know of any of that? And he and the others had more immediate things to worry about at hand.

Like not getting torn apart by this strange, primeval world all about them.