The ridge was beginning to settle into its evening hush. Mist still clung to the rocks and hollows, curling low around the ground like restless spirits. Crow sat near the edge of the edge of the campfire, one hand pressed to the soil, eyes half-lidded in concentration. He could feel the pulse beneath his fingers: faint, but real. He was watching the knight across the fire from him.

  The fire popped as sap burned in a fresh log. Ash, curled beside Crow, lifted her head only briefly before settling it back into his lap, eyes half-lidded but alert.

  The Knight jabbed a stick into the fire, eyes on the embers. “So,” he said casually, “you one of those nature priests or something? A druid?” He smirked. “That how you got lost out here?”

  Crow chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m never lost in these woods. Or the mountains.” He looked up, meeting the Knight’s eyes across the fire. “But yeah. I’m on the path. Not full druid yet, but learning.”

  The Knight raised an eyebrow. “Figures. Explains the pet.” He jerked his chin toward Ash. “And the attitude.”

  Crow smiled without warmth. “And you? Let me guess, knight in shining armour?”

  “Once,” the Knight said, scraping the stick across a rock. “Now I’m just a sellsword. Mercenary work. Dungeon runs. Gutting goblins and clearing roads. Pays better than honour ever did.”

  Crow’s expression turned thoughtful. “That’s one way to make a living.”

  “It’s the only way that works,” the Knight replied, matter-of-fact. “People like you keep trying to protect things too weak to protect themselves. You end up buried in moss while the rest of us get rich.”

  Crow said nothing. Ash growled again, soft and low. The Knight ignored him.

  “Tell you what,” he continued, stretching out his legs, “if this ‘druid’ thing doesn’t pan out, I could use someone who knows the terrain. You guide me, I split the loot.”

  Crow scratched behind Ash’s ear. “And when there’s nothing left to loot?”

  The Knight grinned. “Then I’ll build something new. Out of the bones.”

  Crow watched the drunk, older knight moved like a boulder on legs. He was thick with layered plate and confidence. His armour bore the scratches and scorch marks of past campaigns, and a red cloak, mud-soaked at the hem, dragged behind him like a bleeding wound. His lips curled into a smirk.

  Crow didn’t reach for his dagger, but his posture sharpened. The fire crackled between them, casting long shadows. The Knight leaned back on a fallen log, armour plates clinking as he stretched out his legs. He looked across the fire at Crow, unimpressed.

  The Knight takes a drink from his wineskin.“So, you just… sit out here? In the mud? With your mutt and your moss?”

  Crow ran a hand over Ash’s fur. “Better company than the types who roll in with swords and delusions.”

  The Knight grinned, tossing a twig into the flames. “Delusions, huh? You mean ambition. Purpose. A plan that doesn’t end with starving under a tree.”

  Ash growled low in her throat.

  The Knight didn’t flinch. “Easy, pup. I’m just saying; nature’s great and all, but she doesn’t pay for ale or whores. Or meat. Real meat. The kind you don’t have to pray to.”

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  Crow’s eyes narrowed. “This place was untouched for a reason. You turning it into timber and coin? That’s not a plan. That’s vandalism.”

  The Knight chuckled. “And what are you? Forest’s unpaid bodyguard? You waiting for some druid god to knight you in bark and sap?”

  Ash snorted, amused despite himself. Crow said nothing.

  The Knight leaned in, voice dropping slightly. “You know what I think? I think you like playing the hero out here. Makes you feel tall. But deep down, you know—if someone stronger wants it, they’ll take it. Like me.”

  Crow met his gaze. “You’d have to get past him first.” Ash bared his teeth.

  The Knight raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey now. Just a friendly campfire chat.” Then he smiled: sharp, too wide.

  “For now,” Crow said.

  "Well, look what the rot coughed up," the Knight said, as he snorted in retort. "Thought I smelled moss-boy."

  Crow watched the firelight flicker across the Knight’s armour, his expression unreadable. He just ignores the Knight’s drunken jab. The man shrugs it off with another drink. After a moment, Crow asked, “What if there are void beasts nearby?”

  The Knight looked up lazily, unimpressed. “Void beasts?”

  Crow nodded. “The Blind One has agents all over. The deeper the roots of a first, or say a dungeon grow, the more it draws things that shouldn’t be here.”

  The Knight snorted. “You mean bedtime stories. Ghosts in the dark. Come on.” He leaned forward, poking the fire. “Even if there were void-beasts, I’d welcome the fight. Good coin in killing monsters.”

  “Some things don’t die when you kill them,” Crow muttered.

  Ash stirred beside him, ears twitching. Without a sound, he rose and padded off the ridge, slipping silently into the trees below, his body melting into the gloom.

  The Knight tilted his head, watching the wolf go. “Where’s the dog off to?”

  Crow shrugged, eyes still on the Knight, while the man watched the trees. “Probably to have a piss,” the want-a-be druid answered.

  The Knight chuckled. “Huh. Guess even sacred dogs need to water the bushes.”

  Crow didn’t answer. The forest seemed to breathe around them, quiet but waiting, like the trees had leaned in just slightly, listening.

  "You’re far from the road," Crow replied, changing the conversation.

  System Notification:[New Dungeon Detected: Tier E, Level Zero – “Jackass Mountain Base”]

  Location: 3 kilometres north-east of your current position.

  Dungeon cores are unclaimed. First-clear and extraction rights open.

  Warning: Dungeons are regulated under Company jurisdiction in this zone.

  "I go where the system calls me." The Knight tapped the air with two fingers, dismissing a screen. "Fresh dungeon. Tier zero. Untouched. Practically screaming to be harvested."

  Crow's jaw tightened. “It’s still forming.”

  “Exactly,” the Knight said. “No boss. No traps. No risk. Just raw cores and unclaimed mana. I clear it out, sell what I don’t need, and drink myself sideways in the capital. Might even find some company for the night. Maybe two.”

  Crow stepped forward, mist swirling around his ankles. “It’s not a vein of ore. It’s alive.”

  The Knight shrugged. “Won’t be for long.”

  "You’ll strip the forest bare for a few coins and a hangover."

  "The forest’s had its turn. Now it’s ours. You think the system gave us this power to admire trees?" His tone turned mocking. "It rewards strength. Not guilt.”

  “That power doesn’t make you right,” Crow said.

  “It makes me rich.” The Knight smiled wide. “And that’s close enough.”

  A pause stretched between them, tense and brittle.

  "You’re going to destroy it," Crow said. He knew better than to ask the question. He had seen men like this all his life.

  "I'm going to use it." The Knight rose to his feet with a wobble and stepped closer, voice hardening. "And you’re in my way."

  Crow’s eyes narrowed, standing at the same time as the drunken old knight. “Then you’ll have to move me.”

  “I have more levels than you, boy.” The Knight grinned. “Gladly.”