The outskirts of Eldralid's northern district ended where the city stopped bothering to keep things in order. Unpaved streets, half-built structures nobody had touched in years, and beyond all of that a stretch of open terrain too uneven to build on and too useless for anything else.
It was exactly the kind of place where a Stronghold could appear without anyone finding it too quickly.
Gareth knew it. He'd calculated it before leaving.
What he hadn't calculated was what Corvus spotted first.
"Look." The raven tilted his head from his left shoulder. "Looks like someone beat you to it."
"What...?"
Then he saw it.
About forty meters out, grouped in front of a portal pulsing with cold blue light between two rock formations, was a group of hunters. Five people with visible gear, talking among themselves with the attitude of people who already have a plan and are finishing the fine details.
Gareth took two steps back and hid behind a rock, grabbing Corvus and pulling him against his chest in the same motion.
"Why is there people here? This isn't how it's supposed to work."
"We could head to another Stronghold." Corvus looked up at him without moving. "I don't think this one is particularly special. I'm sure plenty of others have what you're looking for."
"You're wrong." Gareth watched the portal from his position. The blue light pulsing between the rocks had that specific tone that didn't match any other Stronghold he'd seen. "Only the Frost Sepulcher is home to the Frost Fangs." An internal beat. "Unique daggers. Five permanent buffs on equip: Perpetual Bleeding, Eternal Edge, Armor Penetration, Glacial Breath, and Arctic Gale." His eyes didn't move from the portal. "There's nothing else like them in this world."
Corvus processed that.
"I see... I thought your current daggers were the best you could possibly add to your arsenal."
"Obviously not. There are much better ones out there." Gareth glanced at the Claws of Marveth in his system inventory for a moment. "But the Claws are special. I have a fondness for them above anything else."
"Well, it looks like you'll be sticking with them a while longer, from what I can see."
Gareth opened the system interface.
[Alternate Form Available: Mourgare — Maximum Duration: 74 minutes]
[Activate?]
[ YES ] --- [ NO ]
'The time increased... I'm assuming it scales with level. And the amount is just enough to complete the Stronghold safely.'
"I think I know what I'll do." He said it with the calm of someone who has already made the decision and is simply communicating it. "Though it might be fairly risky."
Corvus looked at him.
"What are you thinking...?"
Gareth pressed [YES].
The change was immediate. Dorian Thornfield's appearance was replaced by Mourgare's, and the Claws of Marveth materialized in his hands before returning to the inventory.
Corvus went on alert instantly.
"I suppose I'll have to make a direct approach."
"No!" Corvus opened his wings half a centimeter, which on a raven was the equivalent of jumping to his feet. "What are you doing?! This is a terrible idea! A genuinely awful one! Whatever happened to not drawing attention to yourself?!"
"Nothing's going to happen." Mourgare watched the group from his position. "After all, there's nothing that could connect me to the Mourgare everyone's been talking about."
"That still doesn't make this something I agree with! You'd be exposing yourself way too much!"
"I'll be fine." He opened the inventory and pulled out the orb, letting it float at his side with that soft pulse it had when idle. "Besides, I have the orb. So I'll practically look like one of them."
"That does not make this decision any less dangerous!"
"Just focus on finding a way in without being seen." He straightened up completely and brushed off his clothes. "We meet on the other side."
And he started walking.
"That's your answer?!" Corvus's voice came from behind the rock carrying that specific tone of something that has crossed a line it didn't intend to cross. "You know what?! Do whatever you want! I'm not wasting any more concern on you!"
Mourgare didn't turn around.
He kept walking.
The group noticed him before he reached ten meters.
Five pairs of eyes turning at the same time with that trained attention of people who know that in Stronghold zones, surprises are rarely good news. Mourgare raised a hand in greeting as the orb drifted calmly to his right.
Nobody responded.
The silence lasted exactly long enough to be uncomfortable.
One of them spoke first. The one standing furthest forward — sharp features, eyes carrying no particular warmth, the posture of someone accustomed to being the one who asks the questions.
"What are you doing here?"
"I was just passing by and saw you." Mourgare said it naturally. "So I figured I'd come over and say hello."
"And why were you passing through here?"
'What is this? Some kind of interrogation?'
"I was out looking for a Stronghold to take on and ended up here. That's all."
The boy looked at him with the expression of someone who had classified the answer as unsatisfactory before it finished.
"What an idiot. Where's your mana reader? Everyone knows it's a complete waste of time going around looking for Strongholds that way."
"I guess I just prefer exploring..."
"Nonsense! Now talk — what do you actually want? We're busy and we don't have time for this."
"I just wanted to know if I could join the raid on this Stronghold with you."
"Ha!" The boy didn't bother softening it. "Obviously not. We don't even know you. Now get lost."
"But you could get to know me." Mourgare didn't change his tone. "I'll introduce myself, actually. My name's Kael."
"I'm not interested. Besides, that name doesn't ring a bell. I've never heard it."
"I'm a new hunter. I only joined recently, that's why."
"Oh yeah? Then show me your hunter's ID."
'Damn... I didn't think about that.'
"I... don't have it on me. I'm sorry, I left it at home."
"Ha!" This time the laugh had something personal to it. "You expect me to believe that excuse? I bet you have it right there and you don't want to show it because you didn't give us your real name." A short loaded beat. "And I bet the only reason you're here is to steal our loot. That's exactly what you are. A thief."
"Huh?"
Before Mourgare could respond with something that wouldn't make the situation worse, another voice came from further back.
"Alright, that's enough." A taller boy with a relaxed look walked over with his hands in his pockets. "Let him stay in the group. Cass clearly isn't showing up, so we're one person short anyway."
The sharp-featured one turned toward him.
"Are you out of your mind?! We don't even know him! What if he steals all the loot we find in there?!"
"Well, we've already seen his face. So we'd find him either way."
"You're not thinking clearly! Seeing his face isn't enough! You know how easy it is to disappear in Eldralid! The only thing that actually matters is knowing who someone is, and this idiot didn't bring his ID."
"I think you're way overthinking this. Besides, none of us even use our IDs. Nobody does."
Mourgare glanced between the two of them.
"Why are you so worried about someone stealing the loot? Does that happen often?"
The sharp-featured one went still for a moment.
"Lately, yeah. More than usual." He said it with less aggression than before. "That's where the distrust comes from. Trust me, it's nothing personal."
"Then I'll try to earn your trust once we're inside." Mourgare looked at both of them with that calm that wasn't exactly warmth but wasn't a threat either. "I promise I won't try anything."
The relaxed boy let out a short laugh.
"Don't worry about it. The rules we have as a group inside a Stronghold are pretty simple." He said it like someone who has repeated this enough times it comes out on its own. "Whoever kills it, keeps it."
"Works for me."
"By the way." He looked at Mourgare with genuine curiosity. "What rank are you?"
'Damn... What rank should I say? I need something close to theirs.'
"I'm rank D."
The sharp-featured boy started laughing before the last word had finished hitting the air.
"No way. You're going to let someone with a rank that pathetic join the group?!"
"Drek, relax." The relaxed boy crossed his arms. "We're rank B and C — not exactly a world-ending gap."
"That's exactly my point! We're rank B and C! What is a rank D even going to contribute in there?!"
The relaxed boy ignored the comment with the efficiency of someone who has been practicing exactly that for a long time. Instead he looked at the orb floating to Mourgare's right with real attention.
"Looking at your orb, I can tell you use lightning magic, right?"
"That's correct."
"So you have stun spells?"
"Of course..."
"Perfect." He nodded with the decisiveness of someone who found what they were looking for. "You could be useful. You're in."
"You have to be kidding me!" The sharp-featured boy pointed at him. "You'd better not come crying to me when this blows up in your face — I'm warning you right now!"
The relaxed boy had already turned away.
"Time to introduce you to everyone." He said it as though the previous argument had wrapped up ten minutes ago. He pointed through the group one by one. "That's Mira, wind magic specialist. That's Aldous, close combat." Aldous lifted his chin in acknowledgment without saying anything. "Over there is Finn, support." Finn waved from where he stood. "And him..." He reached the sharp-featured boy. A completely neutral smile. "Well. You've already had a taste of his personality. His name's Drek."
Drek looked the other way.
"And I'm Soren." The boy extended his hand. "Welcome, Kael."
Mourgare shook it.
***
The portal took all six of them in sequence.
On the other side, the Frost Sepulcher stretched in every direction with the specific logic of places that weren't built but formed. Stone walls covered in layers of translucent ice that caught the light at angles that had no name. Columns of frost reaching from floor to ceiling. A silence that wasn't empty but dense, as if the place had been holding something for a very long time.
Mira was the first to notice it.
"The temperature..." She looked up at the ceiling. "It's not freezing."
"Ice Strongholds rarely are." Aldous said it without looking at her, already scanning the perimeter. "Ice is the element, not the environment."
Mourgare said nothing. He'd known before they entered.
[Environment: Frost Sepulcher]
[Ambient Temperature: stable]
[Enemies detected: multiple]
Soren fell into step beside him as they moved down the main corridor.
"Tell me — do you use a weapon, or do you specialize in direct spells?"
'Pulling out the Claws right now wouldn't be smart. I need to come up with something.'
Mourgare looked down at his side. His eyes went slightly wide. He brought a hand to his head.
"Oh no... My dagger." He said it with the exact tone of someone who has just landed on something awful. "I can't believe it. I'm so stupid — I left it at home."
Soren looked at him for a moment. Then he smiled.
"Ha, don't worry about it." He opened the crossbody pack he was carrying and reached inside with the ease of someone who keeps extras out of habit. "You use a dagger, right?"
"That's right."
He pulled one out. Straight blade, simple grip, the kind of functional weapon that has no history and no pretensions.
"Here. It's nothing special but it'll do the job."
Mourgare took it. Weighed it for a second.
"Thank you, really."
"Don't mention it. But next time don't forget something that essential." Soren put the pack away. "A hunter's ID isn't important. Forgetting your weapon could cost you your life."
"I'll keep that in mind."
***
The first enemies appeared in the second corridor.
[Frost Sentinel — Level 14]
Three of them. Compact ice figures with humanoid structure and two arms ending in natural lances that had formed directly from the material. They moved with that specific fluidity of things that don't have conventional joints.
Aldous went in first, drawing attention. Finn threw a support shield from the back. Mira channeled a wind burst that slowed the advance of the Sentinel on the right.
Mourgare used the stun spell on the center one — the orb's electricity connected clean and the Sentinel locked in place for two seconds. In that window Soren stepped in and finished it with two strikes to the weak point at the neck.
[EXP gained: +0]
'No experience...' Mourgare looked at the number in silence while Aldous finished off the third. 'I'm assuming it's because I'm not fighting in my characteristic style. With borrowed spells and a dagger that isn't mine, the system doesn't recognize me as the actual executor.'
He filed it away. They kept moving.
What followed was a sequence of encounters the group handled with the efficiency of people who had entered enough Strongholds to have a rhythm. Mourgare contributed just enough — a stun here, a dagger strike there, always at the margin, always letting the others carry the visible weight.
[Ice Archer — Level 15]
[Frost Golem — Level 16]
[Glacial Guardian — Level 15]
Zero experience every time. Each time the number appeared Mourgare dismissed it with the same composure he applied to the cold that didn't exist in the air around them.
Drek watched him from the corner of his eye between each encounter. Saying nothing. Keeping count of something he hadn't yet found reason to say out loud.
***
The central corridor opened into a circular chamber.
And in the center of it stood the Frost Lord.
[Frost Lord — Level 19 — ELITE]
Four meters. Not solid ice but a combination — dark stone core encased in layers of self-regenerating frost, two disproportionately long arms ending in claws that scored the floor just by resting against it, and a crown of stalactites fused to its skull pulsing with that cold blue light of the portal multiplied by ten.
The group deployed without needing to coordinate anything. Aldous up front drawing aggro. Mira on the flank. Finn holding shields active from the back.
Mourgare knew this enemy.
Knew it perfectly. The Frost Lord's attack pattern was one of the most specific in the entire Sepulcher — horizontal sweep with the left arm first, always, without exception, followed by a stomp that fractured the floor in a three-meter radius, and in the exact two-second window between both movements an opening on the right flank where the regenerating frost didn't reach the stone core in time.
But he also knew he couldn't show that.
Aldous caught the first horizontal sweep on his shield and was pushed back two meters. Mira's wind burst cut through the outer frost layer without touching anything underneath. The stomp fractured the floor and all five adjusted position.
"The wind isn't getting through the outer layer!" Mira called out without stopping moving. "We need something that breaks the regeneration first!"
"A stun might stop it temporarily!" Soren turned toward Mourgare. "Kael, can you try?!"
Mourgare already had the orb charged.
'I have to make it look like I don't know where to aim.'
The Frost Lord raised its left arm.
Mourgare fired the spell directly at the torso — the zone with the heaviest frost coverage, where the stun would be deflected by the static charge of the outer layer before it could penetrate. It was exactly what someone who didn't know the pattern would do.
The Frost Lord absorbed the impact and the electricity scattered outward in every direction. One branch of the bolt struck a stalactite formation in the ceiling directly above Mourgare.
"Watch out!" Soren's voice arrived at the same moment as the crack.
Mourgare looked up.
Calculated the trajectory.
Pretended to dodge.
The stalactite struck the floor half a meter from his position and the fracture spread beneath his feet in a web of cracks the ice floor wasn't built to hold.
The ground gave way.
And Mourgare fell.