Forgotten Shadow Underground, Floor 1

Craving lv. 3 — An instinctive urge endlessly craving life force. This impulse, stronger than reason, sometimes dulls emotions.

The level of Craving had somehow reached 3. Maybe that's why the Earring of Serenity wasn't doing its job anymore. It kept activating on its own. Probably, as the level rose, the compulsion grew stronger too. Items couldn't suppress the skill activation anymore. But if I just let it be, the level kept rising by itself. At this rate, it might turn into a permanent always-on effect.

Even if I could control Craving to some degree now, it was still a debuff skill. Couldn't skills be erased once they appeared?

Fortunately, I knew someone who could answer that tough question.

"Hmm... Possible, I suppose?"

Gular's answer came surprisingly quick when I asked. Huh? It could be removed? I shot him an expectant look.

"But it requires special materials."

If it meant erasing Craving, it was worth a shot. Gular ticked off the ingredients on his slender finger bones.

"An ancient dragon's heart, a witch's left eye, a giant's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tendon. With just those, I could brew a potion to erase the skill."

"Clack."

I shut my mouth. Then shook my head.

...Yeah, let's just give up.

Every single material was insanely hard to get. With stuff like that, you could probably make an immortality elixir, right?? Especially the first hurdle—that made no sense.

An ancient dragon was that thing, right? The dragon masquerading as a god that destroyed the kingdom in the Fallen Knight's memories. The image was still vivid in my mind: that sinister smile as it devoured the child sacrifice.

How the hell was I supposed to hunt a monster like that?

Come to think of it again, having Craving didn't seem so bad? Aside from occasionally losing my reason, it didn't damage my body anywhere.

I'll just build up my mental strength. That seemed better.

I decided to accept reality cleanly.

"Heading back in there now?"

At Gular's words, I looked up. At the end of my gaze loomed the dungeon entrance, still open. A pitch-black cave. Beyond it lay the reason I'd been hunting Wanderers all this time.

My level had reached 50 before I knew it. Since the shadow bugs were around level 45, this should break the level limit.

But I hesitated for a moment. Did I really need to go in there right now? I'd learned I could grow just by sitting back and hunting Wanderers. Slowly but surely, leveling up and gaining experience.

Above all, I was just starting to enjoy it. The stage of pure skill. Sparring with those who prided themselves on being strong—it thrilled me.

Compared to that, diving into the dungeon carried real risks. Who knew what was inside? And there were no guaranteed rewards either.

High risk, high return.

Seeing me ponder, Gular chimed in. "You'll need points to grow the dungeon anyway, so why not clear it while you're at it?"

Grow the dungeon? What was that about?

"As the dungeon's boss from now on, you'll need tons of points to reinforce or decorate it. The fastest way to get points is absorbing other dungeons' cores."

Using dungeon cores, I could do all sorts of things. Make ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠more traps like the ones on floor 3. Upgrade the monsters stationed in the dungeon.

By strengthening the dungeon like that, its owner—me—would naturally grow too. That was Gular's explanation. Like an antlion pit.

Feeding on the dark emotions and souls of Wanderers drawn by their greed, gradually building power.

Listening to him, one question popped up. Then why had the previous owner neglected this place?

The traps were basic enough even I could dodge them. The monsters were low-level like slimes or goblins.

I puzzled over it briefly, then realized the truth.

Oh, right. The guardian was just a suicidal nutjob, wasn't he? He wanted anyone to kill him.

So he'd left the dungeon in a bare-bones state. He probably never imagined no challengers would show for centuries.

Anyway, conclusion: I had to go in.

Accepting it, I stood up. Before entering the dungeon, I brushed off the dust and did a final status check.

Looking at the skill window filled me with pride. Probably from all the battles lately, every skill had leveled up a bit overall.

As skill levels rose, I noticed subtle changes depending on the level. Not huge performance boosts, but a smoother feel. Movements felt more fluid.

If levels went higher, extra functions would probably unlock.

"Alright! Equipment maintenance done."

The repaired Ring of Strength was back to full power. Roughly calculating, the cooldown had increased by 30 minutes per two activations?

Yeah, save this for emergencies only.

With all the minor fixes from Gular done, I equipped everything. My body felt heavy—loaded for bear. Peak condition!

Leaving Gular and Karen—who planned to hole up quietly in the Fallen Knight's room—I stood straight before the massive entrance.

Rumble...

The moment I entered, the door sealed behind me. Damp, oppressive cave air.

Familiar faces swarmed inside. Had they respawned already? I'd thought I'd wiped them all, but they were back in numbers.

"Keeek!"

Still leaking those disgusting noises from their mouths.

Shlick!

I sliced the throat of every one in sight. Thanks to lurking in the dark so long, the Shadow Ring let me slip past their senses easily just by erasing my presence.

Cleaning up the stragglers like that, I reached a corner of the dungeon.

A new message popped up as I touched the firmly shut door. Last time, it'd coldly rejected me for low level.

But now? Different story. All conditions met!

"Yeah!"

"Clack!" I nodded vigorously.

Clunk! Screeech—

Finally entering! Excitement built as the door opened. What was inside?

I waited tensely for it to fully open.

Thud!

All the sealed doors swung wide. Nothing but pitch blackness beyond.

Even hyped, caution first. Wary of sudden ambushes, I stepped in slowly.

Flash!

The instant both feet hit the ground, the dungeon interior lit up bright.

The welcoming vibe left me briefly dazed. It could do that too?

Indoors, yet it felt like outside—everything visible in full light. Looking closer, ceiling lights at intervals emitted steady glows.

I should install these in my dungeon later. Bright and nice.

Clatter.

The interior looked vast. Ancient ruin scale, right out of some relic site. Worn decorations everywhere hinted at eons past.

Forgotten Shadow Underground's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠layout was simple. Like my dungeon's first floor exactly? Central open structure with corridors twisting into a square maze.

Were all dungeons like this? Probably the standard model. Makes sense for underground—limited shapes.

I nodded, convinced.

"Ooo—."

Then something black whooshed past. A slimy, sticky mystery blob like a slime. Problem: adult-man sized.

The black slime didn't register me as enemy—didn't even glance my way.

...Oh? That irked me; I reached out.

Everything prefixed with "shadow," huh? Outside: shadow bugs. Inside: shadow wraiths.

Come to think: dungeon name was Forgotten Shadow Underground. Ah, shadow theme? Got it.

Seemed the whole place tied to shadows somehow.

"Ooo—."

But why was this one loitering in place? The harmlessly wandering shadow wraith nagged at me.

Then it hit: ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠weird. A wraith stuck to the floor?

Normal wraiths float ghost-style, right? This slimed along like a snail.

Bad feeling. Suspicious.

I plunged my hand into the shadow wraith's body. Jaw chattering at the squelchy horror—

"Clack?"

Something soft touched my fingers. Like animal flesh.

Chilling thought; I frantically churned the goo.

Peeling away the sticky black coating blanketing the body revealed—

"......"

A fairly intact human woman.