The D-day arrived.

Expedition departs for the dungeon today.

Oliver was busy packing his newly crafted weapons, healing potions and other necessities for the journey.

After double checking everything Oliver and girls departed for the designated location for gathering.

The sky was still tinted pale lavender when the bells of the capital began to ring, echoing softly through stone streets. Merchants rolling up their stalls paused to watch the great movement unfolding near the eastern gate — knights organizing supplies, horses stomping impatiently, carriages polished to a mirror shine. The city buzzed with nervous excitement.

Today was the day.

The Velanthris Expedition would finally depart.

Oliver and his group walked in from the direction of the inner districts, travel bags on their backs and weapons secured. The crisp morning breeze brushed past them, tugging lightly at cloaks and hair.

Oliver's disguise was different today — a black traveler's cloak with a hood partially shadowing his face, silver-lined gloves, and a simple sharp mask covering his eyes. Simple, but undeniably stylish.

Isolde walked beside him, dressed in combat gear rather than a gown, her long white hair tied high in a battle-tail. Sharp and breathtaking.

Ariana, already energized despite the early hour, adjusted her staff strapped across her back, humming nervously.

Seraphine walked silently at Oliver's side, silver hair braided neatly, expression blank but eyes quietly scanning everything with machine-like precision.

As they turned the corner, the scene became clearer:

Knights in silver armor forming ranks, each bearing the crest of Hestia.

Rows of nobles came to watch the send-off.

The otherworld heroes stood prominently at the front, receiving cheers.

And at the center stood Princess Elisha.

She wore light armor — elegant yet practical — hair flowing like deep crimson silk. Ronald stood beside her, helmet under his arm, watching with knightly stoicism.

The moment she saw Oliver's group approaching, her expression visibly brightened.

"You're here," she said warmly, striding forward.

"We're not late, are we?" Oliver asked lightly.

"Not at all. You're right on time," she smiled. "The preparations are almost complete. We depart once final formation is confirmed."

Before more could be exchanged, a familiar arrogant voice rang out behind them.

"Well, well. Look who decided to show up."

William smirked, strolling over with Jason at his side — both wearing newly forged enchanted gear, gleaming and obnoxiously expensive-looking.

Jason grinned at Ariana. "Hope you don't drag us down, sweetheart. Try to keep up, yeah?"

Ariana's face darkened. Isolde didn't even turn her head — she just raised one eyebrow.

Seraphine tilted her head.

"Master, should I neutralize them?"

Oliver choked. "No. No neutralizing."

William clicked his tongue. "Tch. What's with the cryptic talk—"

But his voice abruptly stopped when Princess Elisha turned her gaze toward him, expression calm yet icy.

"If you have time for pointless barking, then save that breath for fighting monsters, Sir William," she said sweetly.

The surrounding knights tried and failed to hide their grins.

William stiffened, face flushing, looking away.

Isolde leaned slightly toward Oliver and whispered, "How adorable. They already lost."

Oliver coughed, hiding his smile behind his hand.

*****

The capital's bell tolled once more.

All voices lowered as the King himself stepped forward on a raised platform overlooking the troops.

"Warriors of Hestia. Brave knights and heroic guests from beyond our world," the King called, his voice carrying strong across the square. "Today begins the expedition into Velanthris — a challenge countless have attempted and none have succeeded."

His gaze sweeping the expedition party.

"May your blades remain strong. May your hearts remain unbroken. And may you return victorious."

The hall roared with applause from spectators.

Daniel stepped ahead, placing a hand over his chest. "We will fulfill our duty, Your Majesty."

A dramatic, perfect heroic declaration.

More cheers followed.

Elisha turned to Oliver's side group, voice low. "We move now. Stay close. The road ahead is not forgiving."

Oliver nodded. "We're ready."

Isolde smirked. "Always."

Ariana cracked her knuckles, excitement sparking in her eyes. "Let's go!"

Seraphine's voice chimed quietly:

"Following Master. Expedition protocol initiated."

And under the rising sun, the gates of the capital slowly opened, the bridge lowering with thunderous weight.

The expedition marched forward —

Heroes.

Princes.

Knights.

Adventurers.

And amidst them…

Oliver walked silently, cloak fluttering, hiding his face.

Somewhere ahead, deeper within Velanthris…

awaited destiny, confrontation, and truth.

The expedition had begun.

*****

Morning mist clung to the stone courtyard like a veil as dozens of carriages, armored horses, and knight formations assembled in front of the Royal Palace. Banners of deep crimson fluttered against the pale sky, bearing the crest of the Hestia Empire. The atmosphere was electric—anticipation and anxiety woven tightly together.

The heroes stood near the front, shining like decorated statues.

Daniel in ornate silver armor, sword at his hip.

Amy and Lisa chatting excitedly.

Jason and William laughing loudly, full of confidence.

Sophia and Alan silent and prepared.

Behind them, Oliver's disguised party stood quietly.

Oliver in a hooded cloak, face shadowed.

Isolde with gaze like frost.

Ariana nervous but determined.

Seraphine expressionless as always, but eyes calmly observing everything.

Princess Elisha walked onto the platform dressed formally, voice steady.

"Thank you, everyone, for answering the Empire's call. The Velanthris expedition begins today."

Cheers erupted. Swords lifted. Hooves stamped.

Then the gates opened, and the long march began.

****

The travel stretched endlessly—dusty roads, thick forests, harsh sunlight, constant tension. With the size of their group—over four hundred knights, nobles, adventurers, mages—movement was slow.

It would take about four to five days to reach the destination if they moved with the current pace.

The heroes marched in the center, surrounded by troops and nobles flattering them endlessly.

"Sir Daniel, your conquest of Eravilis is the pride of all human nations!"

"Lady Amy, please allow me to carry your staff!"

"Sir Jason, we would be honored if you visit House Farrow someday!"

Jason and William laughed arrogantly, enjoying every second.

In contrast, Oliver's group kept near the back, avoiding unnecessary attention.

The difference in treatment was stark.

In the middle: supply wagons, mages, healers, and the noble retinues. At the back: the common adventurers hired as cannon fodder, porters, and extra blades.

And that was where the rot started to show.

Day 1 – Evening Camp

The sun had barely dipped below the horizon when the first complaints drifted forward.

Oliver was helping unload crates when he heard a sharp yelp from the rear line.

A female adventurers.

He turned.

Three royal knights (mid-tier nobles, drunk on authority more than wine) had cornered a petite brunette archer against a wagon wheel. One had his hand up her skirt, fingers openly kneading her ass over thin linen panties while the other two laughed.

"Relax, sweetheart," the tallest knight drawled, pressing closer so his pelvis pinned her. "Just checking if you're carrying any concealed weapons."

Her face was scarlet with rage and humiliation, but she didn't dare push him away. Commoners who struck a knight, even in self-defense, lost hands.

Another knight slid his arm around a red-haired spearwoman's waist from behind, palm sliding down to cup her thigh under the hem of her short tunic. He inhaled against her neck like a dog.

"Smells nice. You bathe for us, peasant girl?"

The men nearby snickered. A few adventurers looked away; most just watched with ugly, hungry amusement in their eyes.

A female knight captain (one of Ronald's direct subordinates) strode past, saw the scene, and spat on the ground.

"Disgusting pigs," she muttered, but kept walking. She had her orders: keep the peace, not start a civil war the night before entering monster territory.

Ariana, standing beside the supply wagon, clenched her fists so hard her knuckles went white.

Isolde's eyes narrowed to slits.

Seraphine tilted her head. "Detected seventeen instances of non-consensual physical contact. Permission to neutralize?"

"No," Oliver said quietly. "Not yet."

But his jaw was tight.

Day 2 – Midday Rest Stop

It got bolder.

A blond knight with a lieutenant's crest openly pulled a shy healer onto his lap while they rested under a tree. His hand disappeared beneath her robe, fingers moving in slow circles over her panties while he laughed with his friends.

She sat frozen, tears in her eyes, lips pressed thin so she wouldn't cry out and "cause trouble."

Another pair had a dagger-user pressed between them, one knight groping her breasts over her leather armor while the second sniffed her hair and ground against her ass.

Passers-by either leered or pretended not to see.

Jason and William (heroes, supposedly paragons) walked past the scene and didn't even slow down. Jason actually smirked.

"Looks like the boys are just blowing off steam," he said loudly. "Can't blame them. Long road, pretty girls… natural, right?"

William laughed. "Bet those common sluts are loving the attention."

Ariana made a strangled noise of pure fury.

Isolde's mana flared cold enough that frost crackled on the grass at her feet.

Oliver grabbed her wrist before she could turn the entire rest area into an ice sculpture.

"Not here," he murmured. "Wait."

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