The entrance to the Farche Dungeon loomed before me, a jagged maw of stone that looked like an abandoned mine shaft, half-swallowed by moss and shadow. Torches flickered weakly at its edges, casting eerie glints on the rocky walls. This was it—one of Magnolia’s deadliest labyrinths, a place even Crimson Raid couldn’t conquer. My heart thudded, a mix of dread and determination.
“Am I really doing this?” I muttered, my breath catching in the cold air. The weight of Iseria’s warning pressed on me—one week to find the Dragon Heart, or the billion-plus experience points from my Experience Boost would shred my body. I clenched my left hand, feeling the faint hum of the dimensional storage rune Iseria had gifted me. No turning back now. I took a deep breath, the damp scent of earth filling my lungs, and stepped into the darkness.
Thump.
The sound echoed through the tunnel, followed by a low growl. My stomach lurched. A Grand Dingo—nothing like the Australian dog, despite the name. These bipedal beasts had hyena-like heads, three thick fingers on each arm, and stood as tall as a man. Crimson Raid had cut them down like weeds, but for me? A non-combatant with no Sword Aura or magic? They were death on legs.
I froze, my back pressed against the rough stone wall, the cold seeping through my tattered cloak. Memories of Julius laughing as he cleaved through Dingos flooded my mind, his amber eyes glinting with pride. He’d called me useless, tossed me aside like garbage. The sting of that betrayal fueled me. I wasn’t here for him—I was here to survive.
Whoosh.
I tossed a pebble down a side tunnel, the clatter echoing. The Dingo’s head snapped toward the sound, its ears twitching, and it lumbered off to investigate. My chance. I darted the opposite way, my boots silent on the dirt floor, heart pounding like a drum. That was my strategy: distract, evade, survive. No heroics, just cunning.
The first few levels of the dungeon passed in a blur of narrow escapes. Grand Dingos prowled in packs, their growls echoing through the tunnels. I used pebbles, shadows, and the terrain’s twists to slip past them. Undead skeletons clattered in the dark, their empty sockets glowing faintly, but a splash of holy water from my supplies dissolved their bones into dust. Giant insects—beetles the size of dogs—scuttled across my path, but a well-placed poison potion sent them twitching into corners. Each step drained me, my legs heavy, my breath ragged. I’d been at this for hours, maybe a day, and sleep was a luxury I couldn’t afford.
The dimensional storage rune was a lifesaver. When I needed supplies, I’d focus on the rune, feeling a cool tingle spread through my hand as a shimmering void opened—a pocket of space only I could enter. I’d grab a potion or vial, the void closing with a faint hum. Iseria had said I could also freely enter inside and stay for one hour per day, but there was a catch: I’d reappear in the same spot, blind to the outside world. Popping out in front of a Dingo? Instant death. I couldn’t risk it.
“Pff. More Dingos than I expected,” I muttered, wiping sweat from my brow. The air was thicker now, heavy with the stench of decay. Iseria’s maps had warned of breeding grounds, but this was ridiculous. My eyes caught something on the wall—deep claw marks, too large for a Dingo. My stomach twisted. Something worse was down here.
“Darn it. Time to use that,” I said, reaching into the storage void. The rune pulsed, and I pulled out a vial of liquid I’d mixed from my supplies—green scorpion juice, sunflower mushrooms, and other oddities. Poured onto dead branches, it mimicked the scent of a female Dingo in heat. I scattered the branches down a tunnel and hid behind a boulder, holding my breath.
The ground shook as a pack of Dingos charged in, snarling and snapping. Males, drawn by the scent, collided in a frenzy, tearing into each other with claws and teeth. I didn’t stick around to watch. “Yosh. Time to move.” I slipped deeper into the dungeon, my heart racing but my path clear.
Exhaustion clawed at me. My body ached, my vision blurring. Stamina potions kept me going, but they were running low. I’d been awake for nearly two days, pushing through a maze that wanted me dead. “Just a bit further,” I whispered, clinging to Iseria’s promise of an empty boss room. The betrayal still burned—Julius’s cold dismissal, the guild’s scorn. I wouldn’t let them win. I’d prove I was more than “deadweight.”
Crack.
My foot hit something brittle. Not a root—bones, scattered across the floor. A low growl rumbled through the tunnel, and my blood ran cold. Before I could react, a massive force slammed into me, sending me crashing into the wall. Pain exploded in my chest—a cracked rib, maybe two. I gasped, struggling to focus. Eight glowing red eyes stared back, attached to a hulking chimera. Its jagged teeth gleamed in a vile maw, its skin tough as iron. Without Sword Aura, no blade could pierce it.
Kyaaaaaa!
Its scream pierced my ears, but I refused to die here. I yanked a smoke bomb from my storage, the rune tingling as I slammed it to the ground. A thick cloud erupted, blinding the beast.
At this point I could only use my secret technique.
“Activate: coward legs! Run like the wind!!” I bolted, my legs burning, the chimera’s roars echoing behind me. But it wasn’t enough—its footsteps thundered closer, my stamina fading fast.
“Come on, you fucker! Follow me!” I shouted, leading it toward a trap I’d memorized from the maps. My lungs screamed as I sprinted, dodging stalagmites, until I reached a narrow stretch of floor. I leapt, praying I’d timed it right. The chimera lunged, but the ground crumbled beneath it, dropping it into a pit of poison-coated stakes. Even years old, the venom held. The stakes pierced its softer belly, and its shrieks shook the tunnel as it thrashed, then stilled.
I collapsed, gasping. “Never thought… I could beat a chimera…” My last stamina potion burned going down, barely keeping me upright. The chimera’s corpse was a prize—monster parts were valuable in Magnolia. I climbed down with a rope, wincing at my cracked ribs, and touched the beast. The rune hummed, and the void swallowed it whole. “I'll need this later...” I muttered.
The path cleared—other monsters had fled from the chimera’s noise. I pressed on, my body screaming for rest. Iseria’s knowledge guided me to the boss room, but a death knight guarded the entrance, its blade glinting with lethal intent. One swing, and I’d be done. So, I climbed to the floor above, found a trapdoor Iseria had mentioned, and dropped through it, landing inside the boss room with a thud.
The chamber was no arena but a study, lined with dusty tomes and faded tapestries. A skeleton sat slumped in a grand chair—not undead, just dead. The Undead King, reduced to bones. Even legends die, I thought, a chill running through me. I wasn’t ready for that fate.
I knelt before the skeleton, my Japanese manners kicking in. “Sorry for disturbing you,” I said softly. “My life’s on the line. I’ll take what I need and go.” Better safe than haunted, right?
A bookcase caught my eye. “These are… incredible.” Tomes on magic formulas, potion recipes, monster lore—knowledge that could take lifetimes to uncover. I pressed my rune to the bookcase, and with a flash, the void claimed it. Next, a staff gleamed in the corner. My low-level appraisal skill tingled—Staff of the Storm Ruler, an SS-rank item that could command all elements. “A mage’s dream,” I whispered, storing it too. Sell it, and I’d never work again. But I had bigger plans.
Time was slipping away. My body shook, a cough rattling my chest. Two days with no sleep, and I was falling apart. I staggered to a wooden chest, my heart pounding. Inside, it glowed—a lump of coal-like material with crystal formations, pulsing with mana so intense it stole my breath.
“This is… the Dragon Heart!”
Dragons, pets of the gods, were rare and terrifying, capable of destroying nations. This was ctually the secondary heart. Due to their large bodies they have an actual beating beating heart made from flesh... And this thing. My appraisal skill failed to read it, overwhelmed by its energy. “So this is my salvation, huh? CoughCough*”
My vision blurred, my body screaming. I had to move. Iseria had mentioned a secret exit—a teleportation device the Undead King used to leave the dungeon. I stumbled through the chamber, searching, my life draining with every step. The Farche Dungeon hadn’t broken me yet, but it was close. I’d come too far to fail now.