Chapter 3: The Nightmare Carriage Ride

The carriage looked innocent enough from the outside—a standard adventurer transport with reinforced wood panels, cushioned seats, and enough room for six people comfortably. The driver was a grizzled old man who’d seen his share of weird parties, and he looked at my guild and immediately asked for triple his normal rate.

I paid him without arguing.

We loaded our gear into the back—Valeria’s sword collection took up half the storage space, Seraphina brought three trunks of books that probably contained forbidden knowledge, and Elara packed a single bag and a rope for reasons I didn’t want to think about.

“Everyone in, it’s a six-hour ride to the cursed forest.”

I climbed into the carriage first—big mistake, huge mistake. The moment I sat down, I realized I’d just painted a target on myself. All three of them stood at the entrance, looked at me, then looked at each other.

“I’ll sit next to the Guild Master,” Valeria announced.

“That seems presumptuous—perhaps we should discuss seating arrangements democratically,” Seraphina smiled.

“I’ll sit anywhere, even under his feet!” Elara clasped her hands together.

The driver cracked the reins and the carriage lurched forward, the sudden movement forcing them all to grab the doorframe. They stared at each other with thinly veiled hostility.

“Ladies, there are two benches—we can all fit.”

“I refuse to sit across from you, I need to be within arm’s reach in case of ambush,” Valeria climbed in and sat next to me, close—very close. Her thigh pressed against mine, her armored shoulder dug into my side, and she positioned herself between me and the window like a guard dog.

“Personal space, Val.”

“This is a tactical necessity.”

Seraphina entered next, scanning the remaining seats with calculating precision before looking at Elara and sighing with exaggerated sympathy.

“Elara, darling, don’t you think you’re being selfish?”

“What? I haven’t even sat down yet.”

“Exactly—you’re taking up space that could be used more efficiently. Remember what happened at breakfast? You were useless, perhaps you should reflect on that.”

Elara’s face crumpled, “I… I was useless.”

“And what do useless people deserve?”

“Punishment.”

“Right, so maybe you should sit on the roof—the fresh air will help you contemplate your failures.”

I watched this manipulation happen in real-time, like watching a master craftsman work. Seraphina’s voice was gentle, her expression kind, but every word was a carefully placed knife.

“Wait, Elara, you don’t have to—”

“No, the Guild Master’s right—I should suffer for my inadequacy,” Elara turned toward the roof access while Seraphina slid into the seat next to me before I could protest. Now I was sandwiched between a sadist and a manipulator, pressed together like sardines in a very dangerous can since the bench wasn’t designed for three people.

“This is cozy,” Seraphina rested her head on my shoulder.

“Get off.”

“But I’m tired from all that packing—surely you wouldn’t deny your poor mage some rest?”

“You packed books, that’s not physically demanding.”

“Emotional labor counts too, Rian.”

Valeria’s hand moved to her sword hilt—the movement casual yet threatening as she stared at Seraphina with undisguised irritation.

“Move.”

“I’m comfortable.”

“I will cut this carriage in half if I’m not physically touching him on both sides.”

“That’s structurally impossible—you’re already touching him.”

“Not enough.”

Valeria’s grip tightened on her sword, the leather of her glove creaking. She meant it—she would absolutely destroy our only transportation just to prove a point.

“Fine,” Seraphina shifted to sit across from us, but as she did, she deliberately trailed her fingers across my chest, slow and purposeful, her silver eyes locked onto mine with an expression that said she was counting this as a victory somehow.

Elara poked her head down from the roof hatch, “Is it okay if I come back inside? The wind is making me motion sick.”

“Yes, get in here.”

She climbed down and sat across from me next to Seraphina, but the bench was narrow and she kept sliding toward the center. Every bump in the road sent her lurching forward—her knee would bump mine, her hand would brace against my leg, and each time it happened she’d gasp softly and look at me with those desperate, hungry eyes.

“Sorry, Guild Master, I’m so clumsy—you should really reprimand me.”

“Just hold onto the armrest, Elara.”

“But there isn’t one on this side.”

“Then hold onto the window frame.”

“What if I fall? What if I crash into you? You might have to catch me, might have to hold me down…” Her breathing got heavier.

This was my life for the next six hours—trapped in a moving box with three beautiful disasters. I looked out the window at the rolling trees, the peaceful countryside where normal people were probably having normal days.

“Why are you looking out there?” Valeria’s voice was sharp.

“Because it’s scenery.”

“Look at me instead.”

“That’s not how traveling works.”

Her hand tightened on her sword again, the threat implicit—if I kept staring at the outside world, she’d give me something more interesting to look at, probably her blade.

I turned back and her red eyes studied my face with unsettling intensity, memorizing every detail, every twitch, every microexpression the same way she studied enemies before she killed them.

“Better,” she relaxed slightly but didn’t move away—if anything, she pressed closer. Her armor was cold against my side but underneath I could feel warmth, the heat of her body radiating through the metal, distracting and very intense.

“You sighed,” Seraphina leaned forward.

“So?”

“That’s your fifth sigh in twenty minutes, each one slightly different in pitch and duration—fascinating.”

“It means I’m tired.”

“Or it means you’re subconsciously expressing repressed desire—the human psyche often uses involuntary actions to communicate hidden truths.”

“It means I’m trapped in a carriage with three people who don’t understand boundaries.”

“Denial, classic defense mechanism,” she smiled like she’d just solved a complex equation. “Your fifth sigh was point-three seconds longer than the others, and you looked at me when you exhaled—clearly you’re developing feelings but you’re afraid to admit it.”

“That’s not even remotely accurate.”

“Isn’t it? Or are you simply projecting your own uncertainty onto my analysis?”

I felt my eye twitch—this was Seraphina’s specialty. She could twist any interaction into proof of whatever narrative she wanted, make you question your own reality if you weren’t careful.

The carriage hit a bump and Elara flew forward, crashing into my knees with her hands grabbing my thighs for balance. She looked up at me from the floor, face flushed and eyes glazed.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—punish me!”

“Just get back in your seat.”

“Make me,” she didn’t move, just knelt there between my legs breathing heavily, her fingers digging into my thighs. The position was compromising, the angle worse—if anyone looked through the carriage window right now they’d get the wrong idea.

“Elara, seat, now.”

“Force me, Guild Master—pin me down, show me my place.”

Valeria growled—an actual animalistic growl as she reached down and grabbed Elara by the collar, lifting her like a sack of potatoes and dumping her back on the opposite bench.

“Stop throwing yourself at him, it’s pathetic.”

“You’re just jealous I touched him first.”

“I’m sitting next to him, touching him constantly.”

“But I was on my knees for him.”

“That’s not the achievement you think it is.”

They glared at each other across the carriage as the temperature dropped, magic crackled in the air, and Valeria’s bloodlust rolled off her in waves while Elara’s masochistic excitement was palpable. They were going to fight—right here, right now, in an enclosed wooden box traveling at speed.

“Both of you, shut up.” My voice cut through the tension. “We have six more hours of this, and if you destroy the carriage we’re walking the rest of the way—if we’re walking, I’m leaving you behind. Understand?”

They went quiet, but the tension didn’t fade—it just changed shape, became something thicker and heavier. The carriage suddenly felt smaller, the air warmer, and I was acutely aware of every point of contact: Valeria’s shoulder against mine, her hand resting casually on my knee now—when did that happen?

Seraphina watched everything with those calculating silver eyes, cataloging this, storing it for later use, planning her next manipulation based on the data she was collecting.

Elara squirmed in her seat, unable to sit still—every few minutes she’d shift position, cross her legs, uncross them, lean forward, lean back, like a junkie going through withdrawal.

I tried to focus on the mission: S-rank dungeon, Dragon’s Maw, multiple bosses, environmental hazards. We needed a strategy, coordination, and to not kill each other before we even arrived.

“When we get there we’re scouting first—no rushing in, no improvising.”

“Boring,” Valeria muttered.

“Safe,” I corrected.

“Same thing.”

The carriage rolled on and hours passed like molasses. The sun moved across the sky, the landscape changed from farmland to forest, and the trees grew darker and thicker—the cursed forest was living up to its name.

“We’re close,” Seraphina pressed her face against the window. “I can feel the corrupted mana, it’s delicious.”

“That’s not a normal reaction to corruption.”

“I’m not a normal mage.”

She wasn’t wrong.

The carriage slowed as the driver called out that we’d arrived, the dungeon entrance just ahead. I could see it through the window—a massive stone archway covered in moss and warning runes, the mouth of a literal nightmare.

“Finally.” I stood up, legs stiff, back aching, sanity hanging by a thread. Six hours in close quarters with these three was more exhausting than any dungeon crawl.

“Everyone out—gear check, then we’re going in.”

They filed out: Valeria stretching with her armor creaking, Seraphina adjusting her robes with deliberate grace, and Elara practically stumbling out, still flushed and breathing heavy from being in proximity to me for so long.

I stepped down last into air thick with dark magic—the trees were twisted, the ground dead, and even the birds didn’t sing. This place wanted us dead.

Perfect.

At least the dungeon would be straightforward—just monsters and traps and certain death, way easier to handle than the psychological warfare I just survived.

I looked at my team as they prepared, already slipping into combat mode. For all their insanity, they were professionals when it mattered.

We were going to clear this dungeon, survive, and then I was going to file for early retirement.