Chapter 20: Decoys and Harvests

While the scholars crowded around the monolithic stone sarcophagus with trembling hands, meticulously prying open a concealed sliding panel to extract a heavy, brass-clasped leather tome, Zevryn remained back in the shadows. His pale eyes traced the intricate masonry along the rear wall behind the tomb. A subtle, half-chiseled glyph caught his attention, specifically a diversion rune embedded into the foundation blocks.

A decoy.

This entire chamber was nothing more than an elaborate vault designed to trick surface grave-robbers, while the true, far more dangerous burial sanctum remained sealed deeper within the mountain's bedrock. One of the male scholars let out a triumphant gasp as he hoisted the recovered tome into the pale light, entirely oblivious to the deeper secret of the ruin.

Zev considered warning them, then dismissed the thought entirely. The true tomb would hold horrors far worse than a nest of Chitin-Stalkers, featuring terrors that would likely tear this academic crew to pieces before they could even translate the first warning plate. Let them have their minor victory and their single book. He would return alone, on his own terms, when he was properly prepared.

While the academics continued to whisper excitedly over their prize, Zev turned his attention to the scattered carcasses of the slain beasts littering the stone floor.

The four veteran guards were attempting to hack open the nearest Chitin-Stalker with their short swords, hoping to salvage something of value, but their blades repeatedly glanced off the hardened obsidian plates in frustration. They cursed under their breath, walking away empty-handed.

Zev moved with practiced ease. Drawing a sharp skinning knife, he walked straight past them to the largest, most heavily armored beast in the center of the chamber. With a single, precise flick of his blade, he pierced the exact membrane beneath the creature’s thoracic plate, sliding his fingers inside to retrieve a glowing, pearlescent mana core untouched by acid or steel. Right beside it, he carefully excised a heavy, pulsating venom sac, slipping both items smoothly into his bronze storage ring.

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"Anything?" Evander asked, watching the drow's effortless harvest.

"Just standard refuse," Zev lied smoothly, keeping his expression neutral. The guards nodded, none the wiser.

A short while later, Master Lysandril snapped his leather tome shut, wiping dust from his brass spectacles. "We have what we came for. The structural integrity here is failing, so we should make our descent before nightfall."

The journey back down the mountain trails was brisk and uneventful. That night, as the expedition set up a secure campfire camp amidst the high-altitude pines, Zev waited until the guards' breathing deepened into sleep. Slipping silently away from the firelight, he vanished into the crags. Less than an hour later, he returned with his heavy canvas pouch of buried bandit loot securely retrieved and stowed away within his spatial ring.

By the following afternoon, the expedition safely passed back through the western gates of the southern maritime republic.

At the Adventurer's Guild, Zev deposited the pristine mana cores at the appraisal counter, keeping the potent venom sac safely secured within his bronze ring for future tactical use, and walked away with a heavy pouch of silver coins. True to the unwritten code of professional mercenaries who shared blood on the line, he tracked down Evander and the four guards at the tavern corner, tossing a generous share of the payout onto their table.

"Fair split for holding the line," Zev said simply, refusing their protests with a wave of his hand.

By evening, he unlocked the heavy iron gate of his safehouse. The courtyard was quiet, shadowed under the rising moon. Inside, the hearth fire crackled softly, a hot, steaming tub had already been drawn in the washroom, and a modest, savory meal sat waiting on the dining table. Reniah moved quietly in the background, ensuring everything was in order before slipping away to her quarters.

Zev sank into the warmth of the water, letting the bone-deep chill of the Iron Spine mountains wash away.

It was good to be home, he muttered into the quiet dark.