Underground Slaughter
The sewer hummed with an eerie melody, the kind that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up.
Pafnir tilted his head. “Shouldn’t we seal this off?”
The hunter gave a lazy shrug. “This stretch has already been scouted. No monsters in sight for now, so let it be.”
He sounded genuinely pleased. And why wouldn’t he?
The second level of the royal sewers was a true labyrinth. Ancient kingdom relics, after all, complete with amber jewels embedded in the ceiling and a damp, stale stench that, while unpleasant, was refreshingly clean compared to the first floor.
The environment for exploring the sewers was far superior to anything they had faced on dungeon crawls.
But there was more.
Only the byproduct items alone were worth a fortune: corpse-eating worms, crow bats, giant rats… even the trash was high-grade loot.
Horizon didn’t drop junk.
Most mages, shamanists, blacksmiths, and leatherworkers crafted potions and items straight from monster parts. Rare materials fetched premium prices, and these were no ordinary drops.
Most of the monsters here hailed from deep dungeons and labyrinths controlled by local guilds, who assigned strict exploration rotations.
Not this place.
The royal sewers were managed directly from the palace. Level one was a simple guard quest for easy entry. Level two was basically off-limits to normal players.
Everything dropping here belonged to Fafnir’s party. A fair chunk even went to the hunter and the mage.
Kindorhan had brought them a decent quest, that was for sure.
Most players who knew the Umigan Gang leader were aware of his existence.
A player who clashed with NPCs in a very unusual way, yet never bothered other users. Instead, he gave shopkeepers discounts to boost the back-alley economy, showing every sign of becoming a named player.
And now he was leading them straight to a royal payout.
The hunter and mage’s faces lit up like a flower garden.
Fafnir stroked his chin, lost in thought.
This couldn’t be this easy.
Not after the brutal fights they had already survived.
The monsters they had met were strong, but they had never faced anything on par with his own party.
This level was supposed to be a major axis in the royal-collapse scenario. There should have been hundreds of orcs hiding here, like the ones at the fortress.
But the tracks they had found so far suggested far fewer.
Why?
This was the second level. Flush wasn’t here, so Fafnir could only guess from the few lines in the novel about the palace collapse.
At the very least, he needed to find the entry route and the orcs’ purpose. That way the royal investigation would explode and his reward would skyrocket.
He checked his inventory.
Blue Moon Knight Armor (Rare)
Three-Stage Butterfly Knife of Habes (Rare)
Everything from the monsters they had slain was here. He would repair and sell or use it later.
The real problem was something else entirely.
“Lizard warriors…”
Their owner, the lizardman, was already dead and gone.
But the rest of the tribe was still likely hiding in these tunnels.
That would be a real headache.
Orcs weren’t that strong to begin with.
Elites like warriors, chieftains, or shamans were the real threats.
Normal orcs were low-tier fodder that relied on numbers.
Yet orc hunting was popular because they dropped so much treasure.
Orcs hoarded everything. Humans and orcs shared the same greed, and their gear was immediately usable.
That was why orc hunts were so beloved by players.
Lizardmen were different.
“Excuse me, sir. You look troubled.”
“I think I saw lizardmen.”
The hunter’s question made Fafnir draw out his kukri.
“Lizardmen? You mean those snake humans?”
The mage jumped.
Lizardmen were a race with lizard heads and human lower bodies, usually found in swamps or areas full of water.
“Plenty of water, so it’s not impossible.”
The hunter’s expression froze.
Both races shared similar builds and hoarding habits.
But lizardmen were elite monsters on their own.
They avoided fights whenever possible, and when forced to, they ran first.
Still, it was better than nothing.
Lizardmen belonged to the gray zones, like the ones sitting between white (humans) and black (orcs), opportunistic third parties.
Their main jobs were mercenary, assassin, or shaman anyway.
Even if not, anyone with coins could talk their way in.
Dealing with them would be annoying, but negotiation was always an option.
As long as the quest wrapped up properly, they would be fine.
Fafnir’s group headed toward the central sewer tunnels.
They had never planned to go this deep. The levels were too high, and they didn’t have the power to enter.
Every hour a rift shifted, and monsters kept popping up from hidden spots. The conditions were terrible.
But the rewards were too good to pass up.
Then, on the third structural change, something caught Fafnir’s ear.
“Wait.”
He quieted his teammates and crept forward.
Between carved stone passages filled with strange runes, a small door and corridor appeared under the amber glow.
A hidden shelter not even on the map.
A place runaway slaves and heretics would use.
Squish!
An orc appeared.
A heavy-armed, middle-grade orc in sturdy steel armor and a greave.
The creature was moving from side to side, keeping watch.
Fafnir’s eyes narrowed. “Finally found it.”
He flashed a triumphant smile.
“Seems orcs really were here. If I take him and his gear, and show them upstairs, this quest will be locked and loaded.”
He had fought orcs before. Countless times at the fortress, and before that, orc warriors and shamans as well.
“No need to drag this out. Let’s grab him and go!”
Fafnir started to rise.
Then—
The entire sewer shook.
Like an earthquake had hit.
Fafnir dove back down.
The ground pulsed violently.
Squish! Squish! Squish! Squish!
The stone door the orc guarded swung open, and a horde poured out with the sound of heavy boots.
More than three hundred of them.
He couldn’t tell if they were all, or if there were more groups waiting.
“Intruders! Intruders! Get them!”
The orcs thundered straight toward the sewer center.
Fafnir stayed hidden until the entire pack was gone, then slowly stood back up.
“At least the fortress had space. Here, if you get surrounded, it’s over.”
It was time to regroup with the others.
Back with the party, he explained what he had seen.
“Three hundred orcs?”
The faces of Kindorhan and the others went deathly pale under the amber light.
“Where have they been hiding all this time?”
“It’s not that hard. This area is huge. There are safe zones everywhere, so they probably tucked away in those.”
As sewers under the capital, the area was massive.
No one bothered to investigate or clear it, making it perfect for an orc base.
“Should we run?”
Kindorhan blurted.
With that many orcs, it made no sense to chase clues anymore.
Fafnir shook his head. “No. We continue scouting, Kindorhan.”
“Are you crazy?”
“That’s way too dangerous, Party Leader.”
All three protested, but Fafnir’s mind was made up.
“These orcs aren’t that sharp. Nine out of ten won’t notice us, and even if they do, we’ll be fine. We have the map and Vera-nim’s skill.”
“But…”
“Plus, the proof we bring back will carry more weight than any testimony. We already got the hidden piece. Might as well finish it.”
Silence.
“Well, we’re not dying today. So let’s throw the dice once and see what happens.”
The biggest advantage of being a gamer was infinite lives.
That was why they could enjoy the most dangerous and thrilling hunts.
The realization dawned on the others.
“Alright. A man can’t back out in a place like this. I’m in.”
“My skill will be needed. If that’s the case, I’ll go.”
The mage sighed.
He wanted to run, but he had no idea where he was anymore.
With a heavy breath he nodded.
“Alright. Let’s go.”
Fafnir led them deeper in the direction the orcs had gone.
The farther they went, the stranger the scene became.
“What the hell…?”
Kindorhan muttered.
“All the orcs are dead.”
Bodies littered the walls, the floor, and the flowing filth.
Under the amber light, hundreds of orc corpses lay scattered.
No drop items. No gold.
Were these players?
Fafnir frowned as he examined one.
“But this level two is sealed off. How did players even get in?”
They needed to push deeper and scout.
Fafnir collected the orc molars into his inventory and kept walking.
Then the sound grew clearer.
“Clashing blades.”
A battle.
Fafnir quickened his pace.
Following the noise, they found a man surrounded by dozens of orcs.
He was wrapped head to toe in a black turban, robes, and armor.
“I have to save him!”
“The enemy of my enemy is my ally!”
The mage and Kindorhan shouted.
Fafnir raised a hand. “Wait.”
The scene was odd for someone in deep trouble.
Every time the man cracked his whip, blood sprayed from the orcs’ weapons and flesh.
Orcs that got too close were halved by his shamshir the moment they closed in.
This wasn’t a desperate encirclement.
This was…
A smile.
The man in the black turban turned his gaze toward Fafnir.
“Why is there someone here?”
He had slaughtered hundreds of orcs, yet still looked perfectly fine.
The man tilted his head. “Is this a royal survey team from Baran Kingdom? Your timing is good. But there are no witnesses. Good. That’s better.”
Fafnir’s instinct kicked in and he slammed his foot into the ground.