The next morning arrived with a crisp chill in the air, and the group found a thin layer of frost covering the ground as they gathered outside the house.
Arthur was already standing on the porch to watch them leave. He looked over the frost for a moment before turning his attention to Jacob.
"You need to turn that medallion in to the village chief after this dungeon delve," Arthur said. "Otherwise, the old man will come wandering around our farm soon, wondering why you haven't brought it back."
Jacob glanced down at the frost before looking back at his father. Arthur had told him to keep it until the winter frosts, and it seemed that time had finally come.
"I'll take it over after we get back," Jacob replied.
Arthur nodded, seeming satisfied with that answer, and stayed on the porch as the group made their way toward the dungeon gate.
Bran walked near the back, gripping the runic scepter tightly with both hands. Beside him, Caleb carried a polished, steel-tined pitchfork that looked quite deadly for a standard farming tool.
Jacob was still getting used to the idea of his older brother coming along. Caleb, however, seemed quite comfortable with the situation and was already talking to Bran about the golem.
Caleb was also quite happy with the hastily enchanted gear Jacob had put together after dinner the night before. Bran and Jacob had made the armor together out of dungeon leathers, with Sera taking care of the delicate stitching work.
The pitchfork had been one of the sturdier tools on the farm that hadn't been enchanted yet.
The enchantments, however, were something else entirely. With Jacob having plenty of practice at this point creating high-powered enchantments with a core to anchor his magic, he figured he had made Caleb nigh unkillable in the F-rank dungeon.
That was his hope, at least.
The pitchfork itself was also quite capable, with a variation of the enchantments he had used on his earthshaper aegis. It essentially would never break at their level, and Caleb could shift its weight mid-attack to greatly increase its momentum.
At this point, Caleb was a walking calamity for the dungeon beasts.
The trip to the gate took a bit longer than normal because they had to take the long way around the forest, through Ruvka village.
They were making their way through the village when another group of adventurers approached from the opposite direction. Jacob noticed them looking over his friends, their eyes lingering on the golem before turning toward him with quite a bit of suspicion.
The adventurers slowed as they drew closer, and Jacob was about to ask if there was a problem when someone stepped into the road between the two groups.
It was the B-rank shadow walker.
Jacob hadn't even noticed her approaching, but she was now standing directly in front of them, watching the other adventurers without saying a word.
That seemed to get their attention, as their eyes immediately shifted toward her. One of them glanced past her at Jacob, but the shadow walker moved slightly to remain between them.
The two groups stood there for a few moments, and Jacob found himself looking between the adventurers and the woman, trying to figure out what was going on.
Beside him, Bran tightened his grip on the scepter. Caleb had stopped talking as well, though he seemed just as unsure of the situation.
Finally, one of the adventurers looked toward the others and gave a small nod. They began moving again, giving the shadow walker a bit of room as they walked around her and the rest of the group before continuing toward the north exit of the village.
She turned slightly to watch them go, remaining where she was until they were a good distance away.
"What was that about?" Jacob asked, looking up the road after them. "Who were those people?"
"A group of powerful B- and C-rank adventurers," she replied. "They're headed to the Black Tower."
Jacob looked back at her, finding that the answer had only given him more questions.
"The Black Tower? Why would..."
He stopped as the shadow walker slipped out of sight, seemingly disappearing like a shadow before he could finish asking.
Jacob glanced around, trying to see where she had gone, but there was no sign of her anywhere along the road.
He then looked at his companions, who seemed just as confused as he was. Apparently, none of them had a better idea of what had just happened.
After another moment, the group continued toward the dungeon gate, though Jacob found himself thinking about the encounter for the rest of the trip. He still didn't know why those adventurers had been so interested in them, or why the shadow walker had felt the need to step in.
Lieutenant Durand was waiting near the gate when they arrived. He had said he wanted to observe their initial formation in the dungeon, and Jacob was curious to see what he would think of the golem once it was fighting actual monsters.
Bran brought the construct to a stop at the front of the group, its iron-plated wooden frame standing motionless before the shimmering surface of the gate.
Jacob looked the construct over once more, wondering how well it would actually perform against a monster. Running around the training yard had been useful, but they were about to find out if Bran and Caleb's work would hold up in the dungeon.
"Alright, let's see what this machine can do," Jacob said as he drew his sword.
Bran tightened his grip on the scepter, and the golem stepped through the gate with the rest of the group following behind it. Durand followed at the rear.
The feeling of spatial displacement he was now becoming familiar with washed over Jacob as he passed through, and a moment later, he found himself standing in the first-floor grassland beneath the dungeon's false sky.
Before the group could get their bearings, a low snarl came from the tall grass ahead.
A pack of large jackals emerged from the tawny grass, their eyes fixed on the group as they approached.
"Perfect timing," Oren called as he pulled his shield from his back.
Jacob looked back at Bran and Caleb before pointing his sword at the leading jackal.
"Bran, send it in! Let's see if it breaks!"
Bran pointed the scepter toward the leading jackal, and the golem started forward with heavy steps that pressed the grass flat beneath its feet.
The beast slowed as the construct approached, its lips pulling back to reveal its teeth. Behind it, the other jackals began spreading out, looking for a way around the strange opponent.
"Oren, Thomas, Caleb," Jacob called, watching the pack separate. "Take the others. Let's give Bran a chance to work with just one."
Oren was already moving to intercept a jackal on the right, raising his shield as it lunged toward him. Thomas stepped forward to meet another, while Caleb lowered his pitchfork and moved toward the remaining beast.
That left the leading jackal alone with the golem, though it seemed more interested in getting past the construct than fighting it.
Bran thrust the scepter forward, and the golem swung its heavy arm at the beast.
The jackal darted to the side, causing the blow to hit the ground with a dull thud. Dirt and flattened grass flew into the air as the beast turned and snapped at the exposed joint behind the golem's arm.
Bran flinched with worry as its teeth closed around the construct, but the jackal quickly let go and backed away, shaking its head.
Jacob couldn't help but grin a little at the sight. It seemed the beast had found something it wasn't particularly suited to biting.
The golem turned after it, but Bran was already trying to make it attack again before it had finished moving. Its arm swung through the space the jackal had just left, pulling the construct far enough forward that it had to take an extra step to steady itself.
"Let it finish turning first," Caleb called.
Jacob glanced over to find his brother pulling the pitchfork free from his own opponent, without even a bead of sweat from the effort. The jackal dropped into the grass at his feet, and Caleb stepped back to watch Bran's fight with a look of interest.
Oren and Thomas had made similarly short work of their opponents. Oren re-affixed his shield, while Thomas gave the beast at his feet one last look before turning toward the golem.
Neither of them seemed to have had much trouble either.
Bran, however, was still quite occupied.
The remaining jackal circled the construct, darting close whenever its arm started to rise. Each time Bran tried to strike, the beast was already moving out of the way.
After another missed swing, Bran lowered the scepter slightly and took a breath.
This time, he let the golem turn without immediately making it attack.
The jackal moved with it, trying to stay near its side, but the construct was keeping up much better now that Bran wasn't constantly throwing it off balance with frantic adjustments.
Jacob watched as the tinkerer adjusted his grip. His movements with the scepter were starting to become smaller, and the golem stopped making such wide swings whenever the beast came within reach.
It seemed Bran was finally getting a feel for how much movement he actually needed and how to mix the mental commands with the physical movements of the scepter.
The jackal darted forward again, snapping toward one of the golem's legs.
Instead of trying to bring its arm all the way around, Bran made the construct take a short step toward the beast and swing down.
The blow caught the jackal across its shoulder, knocking it into the dirt with a loud yelp.
Bran's eyes widened, but he didn't stop to celebrate quite yet.
As the beast scrambled to regain its footing, the golem stepped forward and struck again. Its heavy swing and blunt arm caught the jackal in the side, rolling it onto its back before it could get clear.
"That's it," Caleb said, leaning forward a little as he watched, a small grin forming from his anticipation.
Bran barely seemed to hear him. His eyes remained fixed on the jackal as he raised the scepter once more.
The golem lifted its arm and brought it down hard.
A dull crack sounded beneath the blow, and the beast stopped fighting against itself in its fruitless effort to get away.
Bran kept the construct standing over it for a moment, seemingly waiting to see if it would move again. When it remained still and he could see it wasn't breathing, he finally lowered the scepter and let out a long breath.
Then he looked around and realized that everyone else had been watching.
"You could have told me you were already done," he said, glancing between the three boys and the dead jackals at their feet.
"You looked busy," Oren replied with his typical monotone humor.
That caused Caleb to laugh, and even Thomas had a little smile on his face.
Jacob walked closer to look over the golem. There was dirt caught around its striking arm, but he couldn't see any obvious damage where the jackal had tried to bite it.
"Well, it didn't break," he said, looking back at Bran. "And you were getting pretty good at hitting it while maneuvering the golem toward the end."
Bran looked up at the construct, his earlier frustration giving way to a wide, relieved smile.
"It was easier once I stopped trying to make it do multiple things at once," he admitted. "I think I was getting in my own way, making the golem trip over its own feet."
Caleb was already moving closer to examine the joint the jackal had bitten, looking quite pleased with how their work had held up.
Mira stepped next to Jacob, a spot of blood on her boots already. Apparently there had been a Jackal or two lurking in the grass.
Jacob glanced toward Durand, who had watched the encounter from behind the group.
The lieutenant gave a short but satisfied nod.
After watching them handle another pack without any trouble, Durand left the group to continue on their own, evidently satisfied that they could manage without his supervision.
The rest of the first floor passed much more quickly than their previous visit. Bran grew more comfortable with each fight, and the golem was soon landing its blows often enough that the others could reliably leave it to handle a beast while they dealt with their own opponents.
They were also getting quite a bit of combat experience from the encounters. Jacob found himself checking his progress between fights, pleased with how quickly it was adding up now that they were moving through the dungeon without needing to stop for long.
The second floor slowed them down a little. The waist-high razor grass made approaching monsters harder to spot, and the beasts themselves took more effort to put down.
However, with Mira watching ahead and Thomas familiar with the dungeon, they continued making reasonable progress through the floor without wearing themselves down.
Thankfully, neither floor had a gatekeeper waiting for them.
Jacob wasn't sure whether the random monsters simply hadn't appeared or another group had already killed them.
There wasn't really a way to tell without catching up to another group, but he was quite happy to take advantage of the monsters' absence.
By the time they reached the entrance to the third floor, everyone still seemed to be in good spirits.
Stepping through, Jacob looked out over the man-high purple grass and felt a bit excited that they were finally getting to the more difficult part.