Chapter 25: The Dungeon of the Five Wind Cavern

Dragons with high magical abilities can summon lesser elemental spirits. For example, green dragons can call forth ice spirits, and red dragons can summon fire spirits. These spirits, while defending the dragon's lair, more importantly, form a symbiotic relationship with the dragons. The lifespan of these spirits is nearly limitless; even the shortest-lived humanoid spirits, like forest and prairie spirits, live over 3,000 years. Non-humanoid magical spirits have lifespans that stretch as long as the heavens and the earth. Among various attributes, it's easy to find spirits that existed since the creation of the world.

Spending long periods with dragons of high magical ability can enhance a spirit's power. Some spirits have lived alongside sacred dragons for millennia, allowing a low-level spirit to transform into a mid-level one.

— From "The Classic of Mountains and Seas: Tales of Spirits"

The adventurers were met by howling winds, their scale unimaginable. Dru, who had just been teleported in, was blown off his land dragon by the gale. Green Mountain huddled behind his shield, advancing with great difficulty. The dwarf's sturdy beard was whipped about wildly, and the White Heart Mercenary Group's white garments flapped like flags in the storm.

Ahead was a dark, gaping cave where the fierce wind never seemed to cease. Inside, it was bare, not a stone in sight. Amy tried to conjure a wizard's flame, but the wind was so strong he couldn't even open his mouth, let alone chant a spell.

"Boom!" The blue wizard's flame flickered to life. As a grand mage, the elf could cast first-level spells without incantations. The dim flame quivered in the storm.

Dru struggled back onto his mount. Afang gestured for everyone to form two lines, using the back of the person in front as a windbreak, supporting each other as they moved forward slowly.

Suddenly, two blue spirits appeared before them, floating steadily in the storm like eagles soaring in the high skies. These wind elemental spirits, human-like in the upper body but with swirling vortices below, glowed with a vibrant blue, their bodies shimmering with electric light.

Every 20 meters, two blue wind spirits appeared on either side of the cavern, illuminating the space with flashes of lightning. The tunnel, seemingly 500 meters long, was filled with an uncountable number of spirits.

The faces of first-level mage Jess, grand mage Leslink, Afang, and Amy changed. It was no wonder the winds were so fierce. According to Legor, the higher the spirit's level, the more significant the elemental phenomena they could produce—snow for ice spirits, gales for wind spirits. A wind spirit adorned with lightning was at least mid-level, capable of summoning winds strong enough to destroy an entire village. With so many spirits casting simultaneously, the storm could easily tear the adventurers to pieces.

The wind grew stronger and stronger.

The elemental spirits, angered by the intruders, conjured shining wind blades and, like dancers, attacked the dwarf at the front of the line.

Despite being shorter and more stable on his feet than most, the dwarf's movements seemed frozen in the gale. He barely moved his head as a wind blade sliced through his beard, scattering the severed hairs far into the distance.

Green Mountain rushed forward, using his steel shield to deflect another blade aimed at Locke.

Everyone wore expressions of doom. In such fierce winds, no one could fight the wind spirits, not even a dragon. Only a wind dragon could navigate such a tempest with ease.

Retreat was impossible—the magical portal had vanished. Moving forward meant certain death, as even the two spirits before them could easily defeat the adventurers, let alone the long line of spirits behind. Stopping was also futile; the adventurers, unable to open their mouths in the gale, couldn't even plead for their lives.

Was this the end of the mission? Were there no dragons here, only wind spirits? Would all four mercenary groups meet their end in this cavern?

Suddenly, the howling wind slowed, as if something was stubbornly blocking its path. The adventurers battling the wind noticed, but none could spare a glance back. As the wind blades danced, one swordsman received a deep cut on his face, and Amy's shoulder was slashed, blood instantly seeping through.

The wind grew weaker until it nearly vanished.

Without the wind, the spirits moved sluggishly, their combat prowess reduced to that of a kitten. Although more wind spirits joined the fray, they were easily struck in the first encounter and retreated to their elemental realm.

The adventurers then discovered the secret behind the wind's halt. The cavern filled with plants—columnar ones on the ground and vines climbing the walls. All shared the same leaves and color, growing rapidly. The vine leaves blown away by the wind were quickly replaced by more, and as the plants formed a network, the wind naturally stopped—smothered by the greenery.

The remaining wind spirits exchanged a glance and vanished. Even spirits of nature must bow to overwhelming force.

"Old friend..." Old Locke, without turning, crouched and wept over his axe. It's said that dwarves don't cry, as they lack tear glands. This legend was clearly false.

All but Old Locke turned back.

In the center of the cave stood a lone plant—grand mage Leslink. His legs had transformed into roots embedded deeply in the stone, his body now a brown trunk. His kindly face seemed etched into the bark, and his once-flowing gray-brown hair spread across the cave ceiling like a net. His arms, reaching out like grasping vines, clung to the cave walls, tendrils extending from his hands into the ground.

"Why?" The old dwarf's tears flowed freely. "Do you remember 700 years ago, when we first met, you said all your efforts were to become a high-level spirit, to enter the spirit realm as a forest spirit? You've stayed a B-rank mercenary for so long, but who knew how many easy missions you passed up? Who knew you surpassed the grand mage level to become a magister? You always wanted to remain hidden, so why reveal yourself now? Why use your life to cast the ultimate forest spirit magic, the Oasis of Life?"

Life is grand, and sacrificing oneself for companions even more so. For an elf to forgo millennia of life and embrace death requires unimaginable courage. Otherwise, perhaps he was the only one likely to survive—elves typically aren't attacked by spirits without special reasons.

Without wind, the leaves sang joyfully, as if Leslink were answering his old friend's question. A red flower bloomed on the nearest trunk, gently falling onto the dwarf's shoulder.

The dwarf's tears flowed even faster.

Afang, Snow, Green Mountain, and Amy all wept openly. Afang gently took Old Locke's hand, dragging him towards the cave's other end. "Old friend..." The dwarf looked back at Leslink with each step, his voice echoing in the cave.

The dense branches and leaves parted to create a path, all pointing in the same direction.

Pushing aside the last cluster of leaves, a giant magic circle appeared.

Undoubtedly, Old Leslink had identified one last safe portal for his comrades.

After the adventurers left, the "Double-S Mission" became a widely sung ballad, with B-rank mercenary Leslink shining more brightly than the famed White-Clad Afang.

For countless years, mercenaries visited the cave to pay respects to a lush tree. It's said the best protective talismans, made from its leaves, come from the blood and flesh of an elf magister.