The descent took longer than the climb.
Floor by floor, the Spire was dying. Without the core at the top feeding energy through the structure, the red veins in the walls had gone dark, and the oppressive weight that had filled the corridors slowly faded. Even the monsters that had been lurking below were collapsing, their bodies dissolving as the energy sustaining them disappeared.
Before they left the top floor, Holden grabbed the largest Wyrm horn from the scattered remains. It was a heavy piece of bone, about three feet long and curved like a scythe. He tucked it under his arm without saying a word.
They reached the ground floor about twenty minutes later. The massive iron doors were still sealed, just as the Royal Guards had left them.
Emric examined the door for a moment before frowning.
"These doors are designed to open from the outside. There should be a manual release somewhere."
Holden placed his palm against the iron.
"I don’t think we have time for that."
He pushed a thin thread of 8-Star energy into the lock.
The metal groaned.
Then something inside snapped.
The doors swung outward and light flooded in.
After hours inside the darkness, the afternoon sunlight was almost blinding. Holden raised a hand to shield his eyes, but the sunlight wasn’t the only thing waiting for them.
There was a crowd.
Hundreds of people had gathered around the base of the Spire. News crews stood behind crystal cameras, reporters held microphones toward the entrance, and soldiers in dress uniforms formed a perimeter around the area.
At the front, standing on a raised podium draped in black cloth, was Emperor Regis.
He was giving a speech.
"We mourn our brave youth today," the Emperor said, his voice carrying across the crowd through a magical amplification crystal. His expression was filled with carefully performed grief. "Holden Voss and his team answered the call of duty with the courage that defines our great Kingdom. Though they did not survive, their sacrifice will not be forgotten."
The crowd listened in silence.
Some had their heads bowed. A few people were crying.
"On this solemn day, we honor their memory and pray for their souls."
The Emperor paused.
Then the doors behind him slammed open.
Every head turned.
Four figures stood in the doorway.
Rain-soaked. Exhausted. Covered in monster blood and dungeon grime.
Holden stepped out first, the massive black Wyrm horn resting against his shoulder. Lyra followed with her hair plastered against her face, while Emric’s shield was scarred and pitted from the fight. Renna came last, her bow hanging over her shoulder and a grin already spreading across her tired face.
For a moment, nobody said anything.
Then the crowd exploded.
"What?!"
"They’re alive!"
"THEY SURVIVED!"
"Look at that horn!"
The news cameras immediately swung toward Team Soup.
The Emperor’s expression froze.
His grief-stricken face remained in place, but the warmth disappeared from his eyes. For the briefest moment, Holden saw the panic underneath.
Holden smiled.
He walked toward the podium.
The soldiers didn’t stop him. They seemed too confused to know what they were supposed to do, and the reporters were already following his steps with their cameras.
Holden stopped in front of the Emperor.
"Did I interrupt the funeral?" he asked.
A few nervous laughs came from the crowd.
"Sorry about that. Traffic in the dungeon was terrible. You really should do something about the interior layout."
More laughter this time.
The Emperor’s smile remained fixed.
"Mr. Voss. You... survived."
"I did."
Holden glanced behind him.
"We all did."
He shifted the Wyrm horn from his shoulder and held it up for the cameras.
"The Spire was pretty challenging, but we managed."
Then he dropped the horn onto the podium.
CLUNK.
The reporters immediately erupted.
"Is that from the Spire boss?"
"That’s a Wyrm horn!"
"How did four students defeat an S-Class boss?"
Holden let the questions continue for a moment.
Then he reached into his jacket.
He pulled out the small metal plate.
The royal seal stamped into its surface caught the afternoon sunlight.
The Emperor noticed it.
His expression changed.
Holden held the plate up so the cameras could see it clearly.
"Interestingly enough, we found this buried in the boss’s remains."
He turned it slightly.
"It’s some kind of control device. Maeve should be able to tell us exactly what it does, but there’s one thing I noticed."
Holden pointed at the seal.
"This is the Emperor’s personal royal seal, isn’t it?"
The crowd quieted.
Holden looked at Regis with the same friendly smile.
"I’m just an academy student, so I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation. Maybe you signed the wrong artifact. Paperwork mix-up?"
A few people laughed nervously.
Holden shrugged.
"These things happen, right?"
Silence.
The Emperor had gone pale.
His mouth opened, but for several seconds, nothing came out.
Then a reporter near the front raised her microphone.
"Your Majesty! Is it true that your personal seal was used on a device connected to the Spire?"
Another reporter immediately shouted over her.
"Did the Crown deliberately modify the dungeon?"
"Was Team Soup sent inside knowing they would likely die?"
"Your Majesty, did you know the Spire had been altered?"
"Are you responsible for the death of those students?"
The questions came faster and faster.
The crowd began to shift.
Only a few minutes ago, they had been mourning four dead students. Now they were staring at the Emperor, trying to understand what they had just seen.
The Royal Guards moved closer to the podium, forming a protective ring around Regis.
But they looked uncertain.
They couldn’t silence hundreds of witnesses.
They couldn’t stop the cameras.
And they certainly couldn’t erase what had already been broadcast across the Kingdom.
Holden stepped away from the podium.
Lyra stared at him, somewhere between disbelief and amusement. Renna looked like she was struggling to decide whether to laugh or panic. Emric had already pulled out his notebook and was scribbling, although his writing had become almost impossible to read.
"You just accused the Emperor of murder on live television," Lyra whispered.
Holden looked at her.
"I didn’t accuse him."
He gestured toward the cameras.
"I asked a question."
Renna stared at him.
"That’s somehow worse."
Holden laughed.
"The evidence did the rest."
The crowd was getting louder.
Reporters pushed forward, shouting questions as the Royal Guards struggled to keep them back. The Emperor stood behind them, his carefully crafted speech forgotten, his expression now being broadcast to millions of people across the Kingdom.
Holden slipped an arm around Lyra’s shoulder.
"Come on."
"Where are we going?" Renna asked.
"Back to the hotel."
He glanced at the chaos behind them.
"I think we’ve caused enough trouble for one day."
Renna looked at the Emperor, then at Holden.
"Do you think he’ll be angry?"
Holden smiled.
"Probably."
"Are you worried?"
"No, i’m not."
He started walking toward the military vehicles waiting nearby.
Behind them, the Emperor’s funeral speech had become the biggest political disaster the Kingdom had seen in years.
And every second of it was being broadcast live.
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