Super.Dawg
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Chapter 110
🕑 Added 2025-09-12 10:12:01 +0000 UTCThe trio slipped into the dormitory just as the curfew bell tolled, the muffled sound rolling across the campus like the low clang of a distant forge.The halls were quiet, lamps burning with a soft bluish glow. Most students were already in their rooms, whispering or drifting into sleep.
Boris went on his way to the boy's dorm room, Kana paused as they turned a corner. A lone figure stood near the stairwell of their room, leaning against the wall with arms folded. Brown hair fell neatly to her shoulders, framing a pale face that carried itself with the calm composure of someone older than her years. One of the student council members.
“Wayne,” Kana said, surprised. “Why are you here?”
Wayne’s eyes flicked past her and landed on Suri. She was relieved at the sight of Suri—like a weight dropping from her shoulders. “Professor Len Griffin filed a report,” Wayne said evenly. “You were absent from your assigned duty yesterday.”
Suri blinked, confused. She glanced at Kana, then back at Wayne. “Sorry. But… what are we talking about?”
For the faintest moment, Wayne’s lips twitched, almost forming a laugh before she smoothed her expression and coughed into her hand. “You’re part of the night patrol. Yes?”
“Oh,” Suri said, remembering, then nodded.
“You weren’t there,” Wayne continued. Her voice carried no accusation—just the matter-of-fact tone of someone who had said these kinds of things many times before. “To put it simply, Professor Len believes you skipped your very first assignment.”
Suri’s brows drew together. “That’s not true. I was there. Well… my illusions were.”
Wayne raised an eyebrow. “Your illusions.”
“Exactly what I told Principal Light,” Suri insisted, crossing her arms.
Wayne sighed softly. “Then it seems Principal Light didn’t have the chance to inform Professor Len. The professors are stretched thin this week, and…” She gave a small shake of her head. “Let’s just say communication isn’t their strongest virtue.”
Kana clapped Suri on the shoulder. “Looks like you’re not getting much sleep tonight.”
Suri groaned, tilting her head back toward the ceiling. “Great.”
….
The training field at night was a lonely place. Snow whispered across the stones, collecting in uneven drifts against the walls. Torches burned with steady blue flame—enchanted to resist the wind—but the light only seemed to make the darkness between them thicker.
Suri pulled her thick cloak tighter and strode into the courtyard, her boots crunching frost. A cluster of students stood already assembled, breath puffing in pale streams. She recognized a few faces—Mica among them, standing beside her monstrous feline summon. And, unfortunately, Valdis. He smirked the moment their eyes met, as if her lateness had been a personal gift.
Professor Len’s gaze locked on her arrival. “Why did you skip your first night?” His voice was low, sharp, carrying the weight of disapproval.
Suri froze. Then forced a nervous laugh. “I thought I explained to Principal Light already… My skill doesn’t need my personal presence. I can do my duty while staying in my room..”
She raised her hand, and illusions stirred across the frost. Phantoms of eyes, eerie and glowing, opened upon the ground, the eyes were on purpose for additional effects. The students shifted uncomfortably, but the eyes swiveled, scanning, watching.
“My illusions keep patrolling,” Suri explained quickly. “They notify me when something unusual happens. Even if I’m not physically present.”
Professor Len only grunted, unimpressed.
Suri opened her mouth to say more—but then caught sight of his coat. The cut, the fabric, the impeccable layering of greys with that subtle silver embroidery… She gasped. “Is that the latest design by Sir Pierre Torn?”
The professor blinked. A slow nod. “You have quite an eye. Very few recognize his work.”
“Of course I do!” Suri leaned closer, voice bright, all frustration gone. “His last winter line was bold, but that stitch pattern—genius. I didn’t think anyone here had the gall to wear one outside!”
Professor Len’s stern frown softened. Just slightly. Within minutes, they were deep in discussion about textiles, fabric layering, all about luxurious clothes. The smirk slid from Valdis’s face as the professor completely forgot his earlier rebuke, Suri chatting animatedly at his side while the patrol began.
By the time the night wore on, professor Len had given her the full rundown—patrol times, the need to be at least present in the assembly, and break rotations. The message was clear, even wrapped in fashion talk: her skill was useful, yes, but presence still mattered. She would need to show up for the start of every patrol. No illusions in her place.
An hour later, Suri sat on a frozen bench, massaging her knees. Her breath fogged in the bitter air. She was almost drifting off when a low growl vibrated the air. She yelped, looking down into the molten gaze of Shai, Mica’s summon beast. The creature’s feline form was enormous, its fur like shifting shadows under moonlight.
“Hello,” Mica said, stepping into view. She lowered herself gracefully onto the bench beside Suri.
“You remember me?” she asked.
Suri grinned nervously, glancing again at Shai’s massive fangs. “Hard to forget. Especially with your oversized housecat looming over me.”
Mica chuckled. “About what I said last time, since your illusions are good at searching. That’s exactly the sort of skill we need. Next month, we’re going after something rare—a beast’s egg.”
Suri’s eyes lit up. “Rare egg? Is it delicious?”
Mica blinked, then laughed outright. “Not for eating. For taming. The egg of a Tavis Titan. Flying beasts. Majestic, dangerous… and worth a fortune once bonded.”
Suri puffed her cheeks, tilting her head. “Never heard of it.”
“They nest in the tallest trees,” Mica explained patiently, her gaze shifting to the frost-coated horizon. “They are unique since they only lay during peak winter. We’ve tried before, but by the time we find the nests, most eggs have already hatched. If your illusions could help us in searching…” She leaned in, eyes sharp. “You’d be invaluable. And we’ll compensate you handsomely.”
Suri hesitated, glancing again at Shai’s golden eyes gleaming in the dark. Her illusions flickered faintly at her feet.
“Tallest trees. Flying beasts. Middle of winter,” she muttered. “Sounds fun! Can I bring Kana and Boris?”
“You can invite anyone, it’s tiring but not dangerous.” Mica said.
….
The office was dim in the pale winter light, the kind that seeped through frosted glass without warmth. Afternoon shadows stretched long across the floor, broken only by the faint glow of a rune-lit brazier in the corner. The room smelled faintly of pine smoke and old parchment.
Principal Light cupped his tea, letting the steam curl against his face, though his hands trembled slightly with the chill. He didn’t glance up immediately when the door opened, but the sound of heavy boots against stone told him all he needed.
“Ah,” Light murmured, voice carrying in the quiet. “It’s that time again?”
Wor-en stepped inside, snowflakes still melting against the shoulders of his worn cloak. His face was drawn, lined by years and something heavier. He gave a single, deliberate nod.
Light sighed, setting his cup down, porcelain clicking against wood. “It’s been years,” he said, eyes narrowing. “And you’re still at it? That dungeon hasn’t changed, Wor-en. But you have. Winter comes heavier every year. You can’t expect your body to answer like it once did.”
The old professor’s posture didn’t waver, though the firelight caught the wear in his expression. He didn’t speak.
Light leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “If it's the resources you need, I could loan you coin.. No interest.”
Wor-en’s voice came like gravel dragged across stone. “You know it’s not about coin. If I don’t go, more will die. Just like before. Just like my party.”
Silence pressed between them. Beyond the frosted window, the wind howled, rattling the panes as though the season itself wished to argue.
“You’re still chained to ghosts,” Light said at last, his tone weary. “You think throwing yourself back into that cursed place will break the cycle? Even if you go, men will fall. You can’t save them all.”
Wor-en’s jaw tightened. His fists curled slowly at his sides, knuckles white. “No. I can’t save them all. But if I can save some… even a handful… that’s enough.”
Light exhaled a long, weary sigh as Wor-en’s footsteps faded down the corridor. The principal stared at the door a moment longer, as if the wood itself could argue with the stubborn man.
A family now. Children. A wife who waited for him each night. And still, Wor-en clung to that old regret like it was a blade driven into his chest—eight years and more, and the scar refused to fade.
Light closed his eyes. He could still remember the numbers. He always remembered the numbers. That raid, that cursed dungeon… more than eighty percent gone. Entire parties erased, names wiped from the records with a single black line. And yet—because of Wor-en everything changed—half had lived. Half had stumbled out bloodied and broken, but alive.
It didn’t matter who claimed ownership of that dungeon—cursed or prized. He wasn’t sure if it's really worth it. When the curse dungeon recovers again, they would welcome Wor-en like a talisman. A man who saved lives not for coin, but because he couldn’t stop himself—couldn’t stop from blaming himself.
And still… Light pressed his knuckles against his lips, tasting bitterness. When will he forgive himself?
Comments
Super_Dawg
😣 updated thanks!
Super_Dawg
😣 updated thanks!
Mario Schade
So... Wor-en is participating in the live raid with our Dungeon Scrappers around Kana? THAT could mean drama. :D
David W. Baijense
I like the build up of these last few chapters.
Apoca
Hmm... Can I bring Suri and Boris?” ... something sus here
David W. Baijense
"can I bring KANA and Boris?" **
kreiverin
Thanks
