The Rookie Adventurer Jena

The Demon King.

From the moment that supreme sovereign—who drew his dreadful might from negative emotions—descended upon the realm, the world was cast into an abyss of despair. Throngs of zealots, enchanted by his absolute authority, rallied beneath his dark banner. Sowing carnage, ravaging fertile lands, and spreading virulent plagues, they unleashed calamity without the slightest hesitation, all to harvest the suffering of the living.

In response, the Human Alliance once waged a catastrophic, total war against the Demon King's Army. Yet, realizing the ruinous cost of open conflict, humanity eventually shifted strategies: pouring vast fortunes into territorial fortifications, committing to entrenched defense rather than bloody offensives.

If humanity refused to engage on the battlefield, the Demon King's forces could not reap negative energy. Deprived of emotional sustenance, their dominion would inevitably wither.

Anticipating that breaching those impenetrable ramparts would cost far too much blood, the Demon King's commanders devised a new doctrine. Instead of launching direct invasions, they would lure mortals straight into their clutches. Monsters were seeded with glittering treasures to incite natural greed and violence, while demon lords of wealth and prestige erected perilous dungeons designed to harvest agony and despair over the long term.

The gambit proved terrifyingly effective. Even now, mortals blinded by the promise of dungeon spoils offered as bait by the Demon King's Army hurled themselves beyond the safety of their city walls in pursuit of wealth and glory.

Some marched under the banner of high-minded ideals; others under the command of greedy nobles.

And others strode forth as "adventurers"—free agents braving mortal peril for their own desires.

"Bwahaha! Look at this! Another greenhorn who doesn't know her place has crawled into the guild!"

Though Jena had just officially received her adventurer's license, irony dictated that the reception awaiting her as she sought party members was nothing but scorn and derision.

"Wh-what's so funny?!" Jena snapped, her cheeks flushing hot. "Is my reason for becoming an adventurer really something to sneer at?!"

"Of course it is! Anyone who kicks around this business long enough sees it all the time—the baseless, delusional confidence of brats like you."

The men sneering at her were the rowdy, good-for-nothing veterans who permanently loitered around the Adventurer Guild. To drifters who lived hand-to-mouth and drank away their daily earnings, the grandiose ambitions of a fresh rookie were the funniest joke in town.

"So, kid, what was it you just said? 'One day, I will defeat the Demon King and bring peace to this world'? Was that the line?"

"...And what's wrong with that?! Even right now, innocent people are suffering because of the Demon King's Army!"

"Everything's wrong with it! Even the high-and-mighty nobles of the Alliance gave up on all-out war and turtled behind their high walls like cowards! When entire nations are cowering in passive defense, how ridiculous does some lone idiot running around shouting she'll save the world look?"

"Clueless wet-behind-the-ears brats like you always spew the exact same crap when they sign their papers," another chimed in, putting on a high, mocking falsetto. "'I'll vanquish the Demon King someday and bring peace to the land! I'm the legendary Hero reborn!' Haha!"

"Hero, my ass. If such a savior actually existed, they would've descended from the heavens when soldiers were dying by the thousands on the frontlines. Delusional brats like you charge in full of bravado, only to end up bawling your eyes out and writhing in your own filth when death comes knocking."

"If you get the picture, drop that fairytale about saving the world and figure out how to put food on your table. Start by hunting monster rats in the sewers for pocket change, scrape together enough to upgrade your gear, and then hunt goblins or whatever. You won't starve that way."

The veteran adventurers clinked their ale mugs together, pouring out relentless jeers in the Guild Tavern. Such cynical drifters were a dime a dozen in these bleak times, but to a novice who had just stepped onto this path, the senior adventurers' warnings weren't worth the breath spent on them.

"If you have no intention of teaming up, forget it. I'll go alone."

"Whoa, the kid's actually going solo. With that flimsy gear, a single scratch will probably be fatal. She gonna be alright?"

"Well, it's her funeral. We gave fair warning, so don't go crying from the grave."

Dismissing her as just another foolish rookie destined to die in a ditch, the adventurers turned their attention back to their dice games and gambling.

Looking upon them with utter disdain, Jena swallowed the burning humiliation rising in her throat and marched toward the quest board.

Pathetic. Every single one of them is pathetic. With the Demon King's Army poised to threaten humanity at any moment, how can they be content scraping by day-to-day like vermin?

For Jena, who had lost everything to the horrors inflicted by the Demon King's forces, such complacency was an unbearable reality.

Yet this misery would be fleeting. Once the refined swordplay and rigorous discipline passed down from her fallen noble house proved their worth, she would shed her rookie status in no time, amassing the wealth and renown needed to achieve her true ambition.

I can't afford to waste time. I need to find something that can rapidly raise my adventurer rank. Isn't there anything... anything suitable?

The guild's official recommendations for newcomers were trivial chores: culling sewer rats, gathering medicinal herbs, and other menial tasks. Given her martial pedigree, squandering precious days on such trivialities was out of the question. Though her current equipment was modest, her refined blade was more than capable of slaying formidable foes without breaking a sweat.

"...What's this?"

Amid her growing impatience, a single parchment pinned to the edge of the board caught her eye.

It was an exploratory commission posted by the guild: traces of an unidentified dungeon had been detected in a remote mountainous area, and scouts were needed to locate its entrance and report back.

A straightforward scouting mission—all one had to do was confirm the entrance and file a report. Of course, since only faint magical traces had been picked up without confirmation of its physical reality, there was a high likelihood of scouring the wilderness only to come back empty-handed.

Yet, if one could actually find it—and clear it personally—untold treasures and fame were guaranteed.

"Hey, rookie. You're not seriously thinking of hunting down an uncharted dungeon, are you?"

Noticing the rookie eyeing the flyer—a classic beginner's blunder—several nearby veterans began chiming in with unsolicited advice.

"Drop it, kid. Chasing rumors when you don't even know if it really exists is a massive waste of time and money."

"Even if you pull all-nighters and stumble onto it, the guild's scouting reward is chump change. And trying to clear it yourself? The unknown danger inside is off the charts."

"If you're hell-bent on running a dungeon, wait until experienced parties map it out first and follow in their footsteps. That's the safest way to survive."

These were seasoned warnings forged from years of survival and grim rumors. Indeed, exploring uncharted dungeons consistently yielded the highest mortality rates among adventurers, making it strictly off-limits for a newly minted novice.

"Don't underestimate me. I may look like this, but I'm far stronger than any of you."

Driven by her burning ambition to rise, Jena ultimately ignored their counsel and ripped the commission from the board. Returning to her lodgings, she packed her essentials, steeling her solitary resolve.

Just you wait. I'll make this an undeniable success and wipe those smirks right off your faces.

She had already studied what dungeons were and how to navigate them. Torches to pierce the gloom, rations, emergency medical supplies just in case...

Having finalized her preparations, Jena donned her light armor and set ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out. After three grueling days of combing the rugged sector where the eerie aura had been detected, she finally uncovered what appeared to be the entrance.

"Ruins... and they're glowing."

The strange luminescence pulsating from the colossal stone portal indicated that this was no mere abandoned ruin. Recognizing the opportunity, Jena hurried forward. Her suspicions were immediately confirmed by a wooden signboard posted beside the entrance.

"...Ero... Trap?"

What in the world did 'ero' even mean?

While the unfamiliar word baffled her, what unsettled her even more was the bizarre lack of gravity in the text. Normally, dungeon entrances were plastered with ominous warnings of mortal peril or taunting curses meant to deceive intruders... Could it be that this place wasn't nearly as hazardous as she had feared?

No, stay sharp. A place called a 'trap dungeon' is bound to be crawling with lethal deathtraps.

Whatever the truth, the only path forward for someone craving glory was onward. Checking her gear once more, Jena drew her blade and crossed the threshold, focusing every fiber of her being on each cautious step.

The dungeon literally has 'trap' in its name. There are definitely traps lying in wait.

Triggering one would surely sever flesh and pierce bone. Since suffering an injury would cripple her combat capability, avoiding trap triggers was paramount. Yet an even greater priority was vigilance against the monsters lurking within.

Creak, clatter.

No sooner had she braced herself than the dry grinding of joints echoed down the corridor. Jena snapped into a combat stance, leveling her blade toward the approaching figures.

What emerged were doll-like automatons with exaggerated joints and blank, featureless faces. Just as she recognized them as a type of golem that alchemists were known to command, they locked onto Jena and lunged forward with surprising speed.

Fast. But simple.

Whoosh!

Ducking and sidestepping their clumsy swings, Jena struck at their unguarded flanks. Sharp, finely honed Aura coating her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠blade bisected the golems in a single, fluid stroke. The sliced automatons clattered onto the stone floor, completely incapacitated.

"Hah, my swordsmanship hasn't rusted after all. Come at me, all of you!"

A total amateur might have struggled, but Jena had honed her blade every single day before fleeing her fallen house. She was confident that in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pure swordplay, no one short of a Sword Saint could match her. True to her pride, every doll-like golem crossing her path was mercilessly cut down by her flashing steel.

I can do this! I can really conquer this place!

Confidence swelled within her with each effortless victory. Yet that very arrogance bred carelessness, dulling the vigilant caution against traps she had maintained upon entering.

Pshhhhh!

"Kh! Wh-what is this?!"

The moment her foot depressed a hidden plate on the floor, a cloud of sweet pink gas hissed forth. Involuntarily inhaling a lungful, Jena hurriedly retrieved an antidote vial from her pack, downed it, and assessed her condition.

While ordinary poisons could be neutralized with standard antidotes, virulent toxins or lethal neurotoxins could snuff out her life in an instant.

"Fortunately... it doesn't seem deadly... Urgh!"

Even as she breathed a sigh of relief, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over her, making her legs tremble slightly beneath her weight. Thump, thump. Her heart began pounding noticeably against her ribs. A feverish flush crept across her skin, as if she had caught a sudden cold, but that was the extent of the reaction.

Though her body felt strangely sluggish and warm, she could still move normally and swing her sword without hindrance.

"The danger... isn't severe yet... Ngh."

Right. Given how weak the golem dolls were, this trap was probably just designed to inflict a minor status ailment. Reaching that conclusion, Jena shrugged off the strange heat prickling under her skin and pushed forward deeper into the corridor.

"I will succeed. For my family... for the world..."

Firmly believing that a minor inconvenience like this could never break her spirit.

Meanwhile, watching the entire scene unfold from the monitor room...

"Hehehe, the aphrodisiac trap worked like a charm."

Naturally, I hadn't set the potency to maximum right from the start. According to Lufo's seasoned advice, lowering the initial difficulty gave intruders the false hope that they could actually clear the dungeon. Then, the deeper they ventured, the more tribulations escalated—enticing them to walk into their own ruin with their own two feet.

Of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠course, in my case, the ultimate goal wasn't slaughter, but pure eroticism.

"Yuria, get ready."

"...Understood, it is so."

Leaving Yuria to give her unenthusiastic, flat reply, I kept my eyes glued to the display, watching our first adventurer stumble her way forward with a wide, predatory grin.

Hehehe, this is going to be good. I wonder what delicious sights this haughty young lady will show me to get my blood pumping.