Finn stepped into the cottage and was immediately greeted by the smell of cooking grain.
His mother stood near the hearth with one hand wrapped around a wooden ladle, stirring a pot suspended over the fire.
Steam rose from the surface, carrying the mild scent of oats and herbs through the small room.
She looked over her shoulder when the door opened.
“There’s my precious boy.”
“I found something for you.” Finn smiled as he removed his boots near the entrance.
He carried his straw hat toward the hearth and held it out with both hands.
The mushrooms he had collected in the forest filled most of the shallow space inside.
His mother’s face brightened immediately.
“Oh, Finn!
These look amazing!”
She set the ladle against the side of the pot before taking the hat from him.
One by one, she inspected the mushrooms beneath the kitchen light, turning them over to make sure none were spoiled or unsafe.
“They’re perfect.
They’ll make the porridge delicious.” She placed the hat on the table, then gently patted Finn on the head.
His soft blond curls bounced beneath her hand before settling back into place.
Finn leaned toward the pot.
The porridge was thin enough that he could see the bottom of the ladle whenever his mother stirred.
Chopped roots floated among the grain with a few wilted herbs gathered from behind the cottage.
There was no meat, butter, or cheese to make the meal heavier.
The mushrooms would probably be the richest thing on the table tonight.
Finn didn’t mind.
They smelled good already, and there were enough for everyone to get several pieces.
“Mom, guess what?”
His mother began slicing the mushrooms over a worn wooden board.
“What is it?”
“A dungeon opened in the forest.
I saw the entrance with my own two eyes.”
The knife stopped.
Her other hand remained wrapped around the mushroom she had been cutting, but she did not move for several seconds.
“A dungeon?” She looked at him.
“Here?”
“Yes.
It’s newly formed too.
There weren’t any footprints or signs that someone else had already found it.”
Finn’s excitement returned the moment he started explaining.
He told her about the clearing, the stone doors, and the glowing symbols around the entrance, speaking quickly as he tried to remember every detail.
His mother listened without interrupting, a knot of worry tightening inside her stomach.
Dungeons were dangerous.
Everyone knew stories about adventurers who entered one and never returned.
Even experienced parties could die if they misjudged a monster or failed to notice a trap.
Finn had no party.
He did not even own a proper weapon.
The thought of her precious Hero disappearing into that dark entrance made her chest ache.
But she also knew what the discovery meant to him.
He had talked about becoming an adventurer since he was old enough to swing a stick around like a sword.
“What did your father say?” she asked.
Finn moved closer to the hearth as she dropped the first handful of mushrooms into the pot.
“He wants me to show him where it is after dinner.
It isn’t far, so we should be back before sunset.”
His mother nodded slowly and returned to cooking.
That was better than Finn going alone.
His father would be careful.
He would inspect the entrance, look for signs of danger, and make sure Finn did not rush inside just because he was excited.
Still, a bittersweet warmth spread through her chest.
“My boy is all grown up now.”
Finn laughed.
“I’m only showing Dad where it is.
Plus, I’ve been grown up for a while now.”
“I know.” She reached up and smoothed one of his curls away from his forehead.
“But you found a dungeon, came home with food for the family, and now you’re talking about becoming an adventurer like it might really happen.”
Finn looked toward the simmering pot.
The mushrooms had already darkened the broth, making the porridge look thicker than it had before.
“I’ll be careful,” he promised.
His mother smiled, though the worry did not leave her eyes.
“I know you will.”
Dinner was served shortly afterward.
The four of them sat around the small wooden table while the last of the daylight came through the window.
Finn’s father received the largest bowl, followed by Rowan, who had spent most of the day clearing stones from the eastern field.
His mother divided the remaining porridge between herself and Finn.
There was enough to fill each bowl, though not enough for anyone to have seconds.
Thick slices of mushroom floated on top, making the simple meal feel special.
Rowan lifted one with his spoon.
“So these are the mushrooms that nearly made you miss dinner?”
Finn shook his head.
“I came back on time.”
“You came running into the yard like something was chasing you.”
“A dungeon appeared in the forest.”
Rowan stopped teasing.
Their father had already told him, but hearing Finn say it made the discovery feel more real.
“Are you planning to enter it?” Rowan asked.
Finn glanced toward their father.
“We’re only looking tonight.”
“That means yes.”
“Eventually,” Finn replied, shooting a glance at his father.
Rowan leaned back in his chair and studied his younger brother.
He looked amused, but Finn could still see the concern underneath it.
“At least learn how to hold a sword before fighting anything.”
“I know how to hold a sword.”
“You hold the handle with the sharp part facing away from you.
That doesn’t mean you know how to use it.”
Finn lowered his spoon.
“I can learn.”
Their father finally spoke.
“First we inspect the entrance.
Nothing more.”
Finn nodded immediately.
“Yes, Dad.”
His mother kept her attention on her bowl while they continued eating, though her fingers tightened slightly around the wooden spoon.
After dinner, Finn helped clear the table before meeting his father outside.
The sun had already begun to set, though there was still enough light to reach the forest and return before dark.
Finn led the way across the field and over the low hill, occasionally glancing back to make sure his father was still behind him.
The path to the dungeon was easy to follow.
There were no cliffs, rivers, or steep inclines blocking the way.
They only needed to pass through a stretch of lush forest where the ground stayed relatively flat beneath the trees.
His father noticed several mushrooms Finn had missed and a few broken branches near the trail, but nothing suggested that a large monster had passed through recently.
When they reached the clearing, Finn slowed.
“There!”
His father stepped past him.
The newly formed hill rose among the trees, its exposed stone too clean and deliberate to be natural.
The dungeon entrance remained open, revealing a dim tunnel descending into the earth.
Neither of them approached immediately.
Finn’s father walked around the edge of the clearing first, checking the ground for tracks.
He inspected the trees, the stone around the entrance, and the glowing marks carved above the doors.
“No blood,” he said.
Finn nodded.
“And no signs of a fight.”
“That does not make it safe.”
“I know.”
His father found a thick fallen branch near the trees and broke away the smaller twigs.
What remained was little more than a heavy wooden club, but it was better than walking inside empty-handed.
Finn watched him test its weight.
“We’re only going to take a look,” his father said.
“The moment a monster comes running toward us, we both turn around and run outside.
Do you understand?”
“Don’t worry, Dad.
I’ll follow your instructions.”
His father looked at him carefully.
“Even if you think you can fight it.”
Finn hesitated, then nodded.
“Yes, Father.”
Together, they crossed the clearing.
***
Zion was bored.
He had spent the last hour watching sheep eat grass.
Occasionally, one wandered toward the creek or settled beneath a tree to sleep.
One had attempted to climb the larger hill, lost its footing near the top, and rolled halfway down before standing back up like nothing had happened.
That had been the most exciting event since the entrance opened.
Zion tried accessing the Dungeon Store several times, but every category remained gray.
He could not purchase new monsters, traps, or terrain until the dungeon earned more essence through actual activity.
He couldn’t even window-shop.
“I guess I was lucky to receive a full terrain and monster package,” he sighed.
Without the Sheep Pasture Pack, Floor 1 would still be an empty cave.
He would have nothing to summon and no way to meet the requirements for opening the dungeon.
Zion looked toward the pasture again.
One sheep chewed beside the pond.
Another had fallen asleep with its head resting against the white fence.
Maybe lucky was too generous…
A small bell suddenly rang through the dungeon.
It sounded strangely ordinary, almost like the bell above the door of a village shop.
Zion’s attention sharpened.
[Visitors have entered the dungeon.]
[Entry Essence acquired: 2]
His boredom disappeared instantly.
He pushed his consciousness toward the entrance so quickly that the pasture blurred beneath him.
Two people stood inside the stone tunnel.
The first was an older man with broad shoulders and a rugged body shaped by years of physical work.
His clothes were plain and worn, while both hands gripped a large wooden stick.
A younger man followed close behind him.
He was tall and slightly lanky, with sun-browned skin and soft golden curls.
The hair bounced around his forehead as he looked around the tunnel, reminding Zion immediately of sheep’s wool.
Neither of them wore armor or carried a sword.
The older man held nothing more threatening than a branch he had probably picked up from the forest floor.
Zion looked at them, unsure how to react.
His first visitors had arrived.
And somehow, they looked even less prepared than his sheep.