The Cursed Extra-Chapter 142: [3.15] The Coward’s Gambit

"The wise man runs from danger. The fool stands his ground. The genius? He trips over his own feet and makes everyone think it was an accident."

***

"What do you mean?" Marcus asked, looking between Seraphina and me like someone had switched the conversation to a language he didn’t speak. His manual hung forgotten at his side. "What has his cowardice accomplished besides slowing us down and making us question every decision?"

Seraphina’s expression stayed neutral, but something shifted in the way she tilted her head. Like a cat deciding whether a mouse was worth the effort. When she spoke, her voice was soft but carried weight.

"His stumble in the entry corridor saved us from the goblin ambush. Do you remember? He tripped and knocked over that stack of crates, and the noise alerted us to the goblins waiting around the corner." She paused. "His nervousness made us check our equipment before we encountered those pit traps. He insisted on inspecting the path ahead because he was ’too scared to walk on unstable ground.’ We found three hidden triggers."

Marcus opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again. Hard to dispute evidence when it’s laid out that clearly.

Wait. She’s been keeping track?

"And now his fear is telling us to avoid what might be another dangerous situation." Seraphina stepped closer to the narrow passage. She moved like water finding its way around rocks. "Perhaps we should listen to instinct over instruction. Fear exists for a reason. It has kept our species alive when logic would have failed."

She turned back to face us, and her grey eyes met mine again. There was a question in that look. A challenge.

She’s not fooled. Not completely. But she’s chosen to support me anyway.

Why?

This woman was going to give me an ulcer before the assessment was over. I could feel it.

Thomlin nodded slowly, his relief visible as someone else provided him an excuse to avoid the wider tunnel. His shoulders dropped. His grip on his sword loosened. "Seraphina’s right. The narrow path might be slower, but if it’s safer..." He trailed off, unable to put his fear into words but grateful that someone else had.

Marcus closed his manual with a sharp snap. The sound bounced off the stone walls like an accusation. His jaw tightened. Pride versus survival, playing out across his face in real time.

But even wounded pride couldn’t overcome the growing certainty that something waited in the wider passage. The darkness there seemed deeper somehow. Like it swallowed the torchlight rather than just existing where the light wasn’t.

"Fine," he said. His voice was tight. He tucked the manual back into his pack with more force than necessary. "But if we get lost or trapped because we ignored the recommended route, don’t blame me when we fail the assessment. I want it on record that I advocated for the tactically sound approach."

If we take the recommended route, there won’t be anyone left to assign blame.

I kept my expression appropriately pathetic. Shoulders hunched. Voice small.

"I’m sorry for being such a coward. I know you’re probably right about the wider tunnel being better. You always are, Marcus. I just... I can’t help being scared. I’m sorry."

The apology tasted like ash. Every word was intentional. Every syllable served a purpose.

God, I hated this.

Seraphina gave me another one of those long looks that made me feel like a bug under glass. Her grey eyes tracked across my face, my posture, my hands. She was storing information. Building a profile that I suspected was way more accurate than anything in Marcus’s manual.

Stop doing that. Please. I’m begging you.

"Sometimes being wrong for the right reasons is better than being right for the wrong ones," she said quietly.

That sounded like a riddle. Or maybe a warning.

The narrow passage forced us into single file, with Marcus leading despite his obvious displeasure at having his recommendations overruled. He held his torch high, casting shadows that jumped across walls pressing close on either side. His back was stiff with wounded pride. He walked like someone who wanted to prove he could handle whatever came next.

The tunnel walls pressed close enough that Thomlin’s shoulders occasionally scraped against stone, leaving pale marks on the dark rock. He winced each time. The ceiling hung low enough to make me duck in several places, and I heard Marcus curse under his breath when his torch brushed against an overhanging protrusion.

But the air here felt different. Cleaner. The oppressive weight of the wider tunnels seemed to lift, replaced by something that felt almost like fresh circulation. I took a deep breath and caught the scent of moisture, of mineral deposits, of earth that had sat undisturbed for generations.

Yeah. This is right.

The phosphorescent moss grew in healthier patches along these walls, giving off enough light without the sickly flickering we’d encountered before. The glow was a pale blue-green, like summer fireflies captured in glass jars. It pulsed gently. Almost like breathing.

Most importantly, I could smell something that made my stolen memories sing.

The metallic scent of iron ore hung heavy in the air. Beneath that lay the particular mustiness that indicated we were approaching the maintenance tunnels. These passages had been built to service the deeper mines, to provide access for workers who needed to reach the extraction points without traveling through the primary routes.

Unmistakable.

We were going the right way.

"This passage isn’t on my map," Marcus called back. His voice echoed strangely in the confined space. He’d paused at a junction where the tunnel branched briefly before reconnecting, checking his manual with increasing confusion. "We’re moving into uncharted territory. The survey diagrams don’t extend this far into the maintenance network."

Uncharted for you, maybe.

I let my voice waver. Genuine fear was easy to fake when you’d been doing it this long.

"Should we go back? I don’t want to get us more lost than we already are. Maybe we should have listened to you after all. You’re the expert. I shouldn’t have argued."

"We’re not lost," Seraphina said from behind me. Her voice carried an odd note of certainty that made me want to turn around and study her expression.

"This tunnel is taking us exactly where we need to go."