Bren clutched the staff tightly, his eyes wide with awe.
"I've never held anything this precious before. It feels like I'm going to break it just by holding it wrong."
He muttered.
Fenrir, still hooded and calm, gave him a sharp look.
"Then don't break it. Just focus and cast the spells you need to. That staff won't forgive sloppy handling."
He warned.
As if on cue, the system chimed in all their minds:
[Warning: Wide-area attack incoming. Party members advised to retreat to safe distance.]
Karl, the team leader, didn't need a second warning.
"Everyone, back to formation around Bren! Make space!"
The others scrambled, quickly spreading out and forming a half-moon behind Bren, leaving a clear line of sight between him and the encroaching monsters.
Bren's face was tight with concentration, but this time, the fear was replaced by something else—control.
"Flame Burst: Ring of Annihilation!"
He called out.
The spell burst forth in a twisting column of fire and wind, vaporizing everything in its path.
The heat from the blast brushed against Fenrir's cloak as he stood behind the group, watching with cool detachment.
When the smoke cleared, the monsters were nothing more than scorched ashes littering the dungeon floor.
"…I…I've never felt this powerful before."
Bren looked at the destruction, blinking in disbelief.
Lys gave a low whistle, impressed. Tom clapped quietly.
Bren turned to look at the staff again, gently running a finger along its length.
"This thing… it might make me addicted."
He said with a laugh, half-joking and half-terrified by the thought.
Karl stepped in immediately, voice firm.
"Don't get too attached. It's not yours. You give it back when the job's done."
Bren sighed and nodded.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Doesn't mean I won't miss it."
The rest of the team cast subtle glances at the staff in Bren's hands, a mix of admiration and envy flashing across their faces.
Fenrir caught those looks, but said nothing. He could already tell—they were good people. Poor, maybe. Under-equipped, definitely. But not thieves.
Karl clapped once, bringing focus back.
"Alright. Fun's over. Let's finish the job."
They delved deeper into the dungeon, the air getting thicker and the shadows heavier as they descended.
Strange sounds echoed around them, and tension coiled in their bodies like springs waiting to snap.
Soon, another problem presented itself—two fast, agile monsters darted around the edges of the group.
They moved like shadows, too quick for swords or area spells. Bren looked at Fenrir, shaking his head.
"I can't use a wide-range attack here. I'll hit our own."
Fenrir's gaze tracked the monsters, his mind calculating quickly.
Without a word, he reached into his inventory and pulled out a low, obsidian-colored bow. It had a strange gleam under the dungeon's dim light and felt perfectly balanced.
He turned to Lys, the team's archer, and held it out.
"Use this. Shoot before they close in."
Lys blinked, stunned, as she reached for the weapon. The moment her fingers curled around the grip, her eyes widened.
"This… this is insane. It's so light but powerful…"
Fenrir gave her a nod.
"Then use it. Now."
With barely a breath wasted, Lys knocked an arrow and loosed it in a single, smooth motion.
The shot sliced through the air like a razor, embedding itself in one of the monsters' skulls.
Before the second one could react, she'd already drawn another arrow and let it fly. It didn't even have time to scream before it collapsed.
Everyone stared at her.
Lys lowered the bow, looking equally shocked and giddy.
"That—felt amazing. I barely even aimed."
Karl grunted in approval.
"Good work. Everyone, keep moving. Don't lose focus."
They moved forward again, but the atmosphere had changed.
The borrowed weapons weren't just making the job easier—they were changing the way the team moved, how they fought, how they felt.
Confidence was blooming where doubt had lingered before.
Bren walked closer to Fenrir, casting a glance at the hooded figure.
"Hey… this isn't normal equipment, is it? Where did you get these things?"
Fenrir didn't answer. He just kept walking, gaze focused ahead.
Karl shot Bren a look, warning him to drop the question.
Bren held up his hands.
"Alright, alright. No need to get prickly."
The silence stretched, filled only by their footsteps and the distant growls echoing through the dungeon's halls.
But one thing was clear: whatever this mysterious client's reason for coming here, he wasn't ordinary.
And neither were the tools he carried.
After what felt like hours of tense combat and winding corridors, the team finally reached the end of the dungeon—a cavern with glowing crystals sprouting from the walls and rare herbs growing in clusters along the rocky floor.
Fenrir's eyes lit up.
This was the spot.
"Cover me."
He said curtly, already kneeling to begin harvesting the materials.
His hands moved deftly, plucking roots and cutting leaves with practiced care, storing each ingredient in separate compartments of his inventory.
The others formed a loose perimeter, weapons drawn.
They didn't speak, their earlier curiosity dulled by the weight of the dungeon's intensity. Still, they moved like professionals—watchful, protective, ready.
Once Fenrir had everything, he stood and gave a short nod.
"We're done here. Let's go."
As they made their way to the exit, a different kind of tension settled over the group.
Bren walked with a slightly hunched posture, cradling the staff in his arms as if it were a sleeping child.
Lys kept glancing at the bow slung over her shoulder, her fingers twitching with the urge to nock one last arrow.
When they reached the dungeon's exit portal, both paused.
"So… I guess we give these back now."
Bren said reluctantly, holding out the staff with both hands.
Lys sighed and removed the bow from her shoulder.
"Shame. I was starting to really like this thing."
Fenrir took the items back without a word. But as he turned to store them, he paused.
"I have a proposal."
He said, looking over his shoulder at the team.
They perked up immediately.
"I'll be going into dungeons regularly. I'll need ingredients often—and that means I'll need people I can trust to retrieve them. I like your work. You're skilled. Loyal. So I'm offering you a deal: one high-class weapon for each of you, permanently. Plus pay for every run you do for me."
He looked at each of them in turn.
Bren's eyes widened. Lys straightened. Tom raised his brows.
Fenrir's tone remained calm but firm.
"In return, I want to be your top priority. If I call on you, you answer. No delays."
Karl, the team leader, frowned slightly.
"That's… a big ask. We don't usually tie ourselves to one client."
"But we also don't usually get offered high-class weapons."
Bren added quickly, elbowing Karl.
"Come on, Karl. You saw what those weapons could do."
Lys said with a grin.
Karl glanced around at his team—at their hopeful expressions, at the possibility gleaming in their eyes—and finally let out a resigned sigh.
"Alright. We're in."
Fenrir nodded, satisfied.
"Good. Welcome aboard."
And just like that, he had more minions.
…Ahem. Employees. Loyal, powerful employees.
It was a legal contract after all. Fenrir won't scam people…not yet.