Chapter 28: The Right Path

  The crackling flames of the campfire cast long shadows over the gathered warriors, illuminating their hardened expressions. The night air was thick with tension, but not from fear—this was the weight of decision, the fork in the road that would shape their future.

  Marcus, Vira, Boruk, and Ragn sat around the fire, the map of their known territories stretched out before them, its inked lines tracing the boundaries of opportunity and danger alike.

  This wasn’t just about where they would hunt next.

  This was about how they would grow.

  Marcus exhaled, stretching his arms across his knees. “We need to level up as fast and efficiently as possible,” he said, his voice carrying the same steel as his resolve.

  Boruk grunted, arms crossed over his broad chest. “Then we best not waste time with small hunts. The beasts near the stronghold won’t cut it anymore.”

  Vira, ever the tactician, frowned. “They may be weak, but we know them. We know their patterns, their territory, and their weaknesses. Staying in familiar ground would minimize risk.”

  “But at what cost?” Ragn countered, tapping a finger on the map. “We’d stagnate. You don’t become strong by repeating the same fight over and over.”

  Marcus nodded. “I see both sides.” He ran his fingers along the edge of the map, considering the various locations marked for known threats. “So, we have a few options. We keep hunting in Orc-controlled lands, we find a new dungeon, or we go further and risk an adventurer-controlled territory.”

  Vira leaned forward, pointing to a cluster of marks near their stronghold. “If we stay within Orc lands, we control the pace of our growth. We can retreat if necessary.”

  Boruk scoffed. “Retreat?” His tusks glinted in the firelight as he shook his head. “We’re adventurers, Vira. Not farmers.”

  Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Controlled progression isn’t the worst idea. I need to grow, but I need to survive while doing it.”

  Ragn smirked. “Then you’re already thinking about the dungeon option, aren’t you?”

  A silence stretched over the group.

  Dungeons.

  The risk was obvious—once inside, there was no retreat until the boss was defeated. But the rewards? Limitless monsters, better loot, and faster growth.

  “You’re right,” Marcus admitted. “A dungeon could give us what we need… but if we get caught in a shift—”

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  “We’d be overwhelmed,” Vira finished, arms crossed. “It’s a gamble.”

  “Dungeon shifts aren’t common,” Ragn argued, waving his hand dismissively. “Most of the time, they don’t happen at all. We control the risk by picking the right dungeon.”

  Boruk ran a hand through his beard, deep in thought. “If we’re doing a dungeon, we better not go back to the one we found Marcus in.”

  Marcus frowned. “Why not? It’s familiar.”

  Boruk’s expression darkened. “Familiar, yeah. But too weak. The monsters there are a joke now, and the respawn rate is slow. Not to mention, shifts happen more often there.”

  Vira’s gaze flicked to Marcus. “You remember the Gorehound?”

  Marcus clenched his fists, recalling the fight. The beast had nearly torn them apart, and that was just one of them.

  Boruk grunted. “Gorehounds don’t hunt alone, Marcus. That one was a scout. If there had been more, we wouldn’t have made it out. We got lucky.”

  Marcus exhaled through his nose, absorbing the warning. Boruk was right.

  No gambling on luck.

  “Alright,” Marcus said. “If not the Orc dungeon, then where?”

  Ragn slapped the map, his finger landing near the Acronian Sea. “Here. There’s an adventurer-controlled dungeon that’s slightly above your level, Marcus. But with Boruk and me, it’s doable.”

  Vira leaned in, eyes narrowing. “That’s a long trek.”

  “It is,” Ragn admitted. “But it’s worth it.”

  Marcus studied the marked location. “What makes it better?”

  Vira answered before Ragn could. “Elemental cores.” Her voice carried weight.

  Marcus blinked. “Elemental cores?”

  “They’re pure, refined Mana,” Vira explained. “Even a low-tier core can power a settlement’s water supply for a year.”

  Ragn grinned. “If we’re lucky, we could pull a rare one. Not just for us, but for the Orc Stronghold.”

  That changed everything.

  It wasn’t just about leveling now. It was about gaining something that mattered.

  Marcus leaned back, rubbing his jaw. He thought about Miran, the orc warriors, the growing stronghold that had taken him in.

  This wasn’t just an opportunity.

  This was a responsibility.

  “Alright,” Marcus said after a long pause. “We’ll take the dungeon. But we make sure it benefits the Orcs too.”

  Boruk smirked. “Now you’re talking.”

  Morning came too soon.

  Their packs were loaded, weapons sharpened, and spirits set. They stood at the edge of the stronghold, their path stretching ahead into unknown danger.

  Boruk rolled his shoulders, adjusting his axe. “Last chance to back out, Marcus.”

  Marcus smirked. “Not a chance.”

  Vira sighed. “Just don’t die.”

  Ragn grinned. “If he does, I’m taking his gear.”

  Marcus chuckled. “I’ll haunt you.”

  Marcus felt the weight of the decision settling in. They were stepping away from the safety of familiar territory, choosing a more dangerous path for the sake of progress. The risks were undeniable—but the rewards were too great to ignore.

  Boruk let out a low chuckle, crossing his arms. “Heh. So we’re actually doing this.”

  Vira sighed but nodded. “If we’re going to push forward, it might as well be somewhere worthwhile.”

  Ragn grinned, tapping the map. “Then it’s decided. We’ll head to the adventurer-controlled dungeon near the Acronian Sea.”

  Marcus studied the map carefully. It was far—days of travel through rough terrain. The closest way there would require securing passage with a merchant caravan, since venturing into unknown lands on foot would be foolish.

  “We’ll need supplies, transport, and a cover story,” Vira added. “Traveling alone through neutral territories isn’t wise.”

  Ragn smirked. “Luckily, I know a goblin trader heading in that direction. If we leave at dawn, we can secure a spot in his caravan.”

  Marcus rolled his shoulders, already feeling the anticipation building. “Then we leave at first light.”

  The group dispersed, each preparing in their own way for the coming journey. As the campfire flickered, Marcus exhaled, staring into the night sky.

  The path ahead wasn’t easy. But then again—when had it ever been?