The War Room was dark, illuminated only by the magical map hovering above the obsidian table. Red lights—representing the Demon Army—were bleeding across the northern border like an infection.
"They are too slow," Sir Valdorn stated, his voice flat.
He stood at the head of the table. King Alaric sat opposite him, looking older than he had a week ago. Prince Valerius and Master Elara stood on the flanks.
"It has been three weeks, Caelric," the King argued softly. "They are adapting remarkable well. The Hero has unlocked three skills. The Saintess can heal bone fractures."
"Three weeks is a lifetime in war," Valdorn countered, slamming a gauntleted fist onto the table. "The Demon Lord's Vanguard has already taken the Northern Outpost. They are moving toward the Valgard Fortress. If Valgard falls, the capital is open."
Valdorn pointed at the map. "The students are hitting wooden dummies and captive beasts. They have safety nets. They have healers on standby. They do not fear death, Your Majesty. And a soldier who does not fear death is already dead."
"What do you propose?" Prince Valerius asked, leaning forward. His blue eyes glinted in the map's light.
"We accelerate the curriculum," Valdorn said. "No more simulations. We send them into a live Dungeon. A Zone 3 hazard."
"Zone 3?" Master Elara gasped. "That is Adventurer territory! The mortality rate is 15%!"
"Then the 85% who survive will be ready for the Front," Valdorn snapped. "Our army is stretched thin holding the border. We cannot spare a regiment to babysit them. I have contacted the Adventurer's Guild."
The King frowned. "Mercenaries? You would trust the Hero to mercenaries?"
"The Iron Hounds are the best Crawlers in the city," Valdorn said. "They will guide the students. They will provide the supplies. But they will not hold their hands. If the students panic... they suffer the consequences."
The King looked at the map. He looked at the encroaching red lights. He closed his eyes.
"Do it," the King whispered.
[Three Days Later - The Howling Caverns]
The air tasted like sulfur and wet copper.
The "Hero's Party" stood at the base of a jagged mountain range, an hour's ride from the capital. In front of them gaped a massive cave mouth, shaped like the screaming maw of a skull. The wind rushed into the cave, creating a constant, low-frequency whistle that set their teeth on edge.
"This place gives me the creeps," Rika whispered, rubbing her arms. She was wearing light leather armor now, twin daggers strapped to her waist. She looked the part of a Rogue, but her eyes were darting nervously at the shadows.
"It's just a cave," Daigo said, slapping his new chest plate. "We got this."
Waiting for them near the entrance was a group of five people who looked nothing like the polished Royal Knights. Their armor was mismatched, scratched, and dented. They wore furs, trophies of monster bones, and expressions of pure boredom.
The Iron Hounds.
The leader, a massive man with a scar running through his beard and a greataxe on his back, spat on the ground as the students approached.
"So," the man grunted, eyeing Ren. "These are the 'Saviors' form another world? Look like fresh meat to me."
Valdorn stepped forward. "Guild Master Grog. These are your charges."
Grog walked up to Ren. He was a head taller than the Hero. He smelled of tobacco and old blood. He leaned down, inspecting Ren like he was buying a horse.
"Soft hands," Grog sneered. "Pretty face. You ever gutted a goblin, boy? Or did you just poke it with a stick until it stopped moving?"
Ren held his gaze, though his heart was hammering. "I'm ready to learn."
"Learn?" Grog laughed, a harsh, barking sound. "Down there, you don't learn. You survive. Or you rot."
Grog turned to the group. He kicked a large wooden crate open. "Listen up, brats! The Deal is simple. The Guild needs Azure Crystals. They grow on the Fourth Floor of this hellhole. Your job is to go down there, mine them, and bring them back."
He pointed to the crate. "Inside are torches, rations, and mapping scrolls. Grab 'em. If you run out of light down there, the Shadow-Stalkers will eat you before you can scream."
Valdorn stepped in to take command. "We are splitting into three squads. This is not a field trip. You will operate as independent tactical units."
Valdorn pulled out a scroll. "Squad One: Assault Team. Ren. Daigo. Rika. Itsuki. You are the spearhead. Grog will accompany you to the lower levels."
Ren nodded, moving to stand by Grog. Rika followed quickly, staying close to Ren's shadow.
"Squad Two: Support & Defense," Valdorn continued. "Reiji. Mei. Toru. Hinata. You will clear the upper levels and secure the escape route. One of Grog's lieutenants will oversee you."
"Squad Three: Specialists," Valdorn finished. "Ayaka. Hanae. Yui. Sayaka. Noa. Toby. You will establish a forward base camp on the First Floor and manage injuries and mana recovery."
"Wait," Yui Kanzaki raised her hand. The [Monk] looked annoyed. "We're just sitting on the First Floor? I want to punch things."
"If the Assault Team fails and retreats, they will bring a horde of monsters with them," Valdorn said coldly. "Your job is to make sure they have a place to retreat to. Do not underestimate the rearguard."
Noa stood at the back of Group Three. Gouache, her Paint-Dog, was trotting around her ankles, sniffing the rocks. The adventurers stared at the ink-creature with confused expressions, but Noa ignored them.
"Alright, enough chatter!" Grog roared. "Grab your gear! Torches lit! We move in five!"
As Ren grabbed a bundle of torches, Itsuki walked up to him. The [Sage] looked serious.
"Ren," Itsuki whispered. "Be careful with Grog."
"Why?" Ren asked. "He seems like a jerk, but..."
"I analyzed his equipment," Itsuki adjusted his glasses. "That axe isn't standard issue. It's enchanted with Soul-Bind. And the rest of his crew... they aren't looking at us like allies. They're looking at us like paychecks."
Ren frowned. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying," Riku interjected, walking past them with a bag of mining tools. "That if things go south, don't expect the Iron Hounds to save us. They'll save the loot."
"Move out!" Grog bellowed.
Ren swallowed hard. He looked at the gaping mouth of the cave. It was darker than night inside.
"Let's go," Ren said to his team.
They stepped into the darkness.
The transition was instant. The moment they crossed the threshold, the temperature dropped twenty degrees. The sound of the wind was replaced by the echo of dripping water and skittering claws.
They were in the belly of the beast. And for the first time, there were no teachers to stop the simulation.
Deep in the darkness, something hungry woke up.