This Is What They Call an Academy (9)

Rumble, rumble, rumble...

The grand showdown against Nightshade, which had started with all the drama of a final battle, ended far too easily.

First reason: Growl had already piled on a mountain of damage. Second: the fire attack hit way harder than expected.

Maybe because the flames peeled back the darkness, Nightshade’s zombie summons started fizzling out halfway through, making the cleanup even smoother. If it hadn’t been for the endless waves of zombie goblins, I could have finished the thing ages ago.

Spending this much time and stamina on a mere named monster in an E-rank dungeon was weird enough. When it self-destructed as a last-ditch effort and sprayed bone spikes everywhere, I actually jumped.

“Grrn.”

Growl snorted, shook his whole body to fling off the soot, and trotted back to my side with a lazy look. The red aura from Wild Instinct was completely gone—its effect had worn off.

I pulled out the bone spikes that had stabbed into his side while he was protecting me, then poured the mana I’d recovered in the meantime into him for healing.

Visually he looked like a wounded hero of reverse fortune, but up close the wounds weren’t that bad. His strength was so high the spikes never even reached the flesh—stopped dead by hide and muscle. So this was that “muscle defense” people talked about.

I sat leaning against him while he sprawled out to recover, staring up at the sky. The black flock of crows that had filled it moments ago had all vanished.

They were just decorative spawns generated by the mountain field inside the dungeon. NPCs, basically. I could tame them or let Hive temporarily command them into temporary APCs for the player team, but hauling them outside the dungeon was impossible.

So what was I doing right now?

“Damn, that burns nice.”

I was literally watching a fire across the river. Or more accurately, a fire over the mountain?

The old warning about not playing with fire in the woods suddenly made perfect sense. The forest was blazing so hard it was unreal. The entire mountain painted red, belching black smoke into the sky—it was a hellscape so grand you could only call it majestic.

The woods turned black and white. The once-clear sky grew murky with pollution.

Trees carbonized black, toppled sideways, and the flames leapt to places they hadn’t reached yet. Even fully burned trunks became fuel, feeding the fire’s momentum.

Ash drifted all the way here on the wind, looking just like snowflakes. Toxic stuff reeking of scorched wood, yet set against nature it was almost beautiful.

When the hell was this going to go out? Don’t tell me it’ll burn all day. I did it in a fit of pique, but now the anxiety was creeping in. Fires like this usually die quick, right? I need it out so I can go look for the boss or whatever.

I was blankly watching the mountain get completely torched when the system helpfully pinged me to hurry up and put it out. I’d rolled around with the named like a flea-ridden dog, yet I never even saw the boss’s face. Is this what they mean by picking your nose without lifting a finger?

Just like when conquering the village dumped all the delayed settlements at once, the moment the dungeon cleared a flood of system alerts popped up. I filtered out only the important ones and skipped the duplicates.

“Gonna look at them all anyway.”

First up: Growl’s stats, the main star of this dungeon run.

He hit level 8, and the skills that had been stuck for a while jumped all at once.

Sure, grinding the same-level trash and stacking exp bit by bit mattered, but taking down something stronger clearly gave a bigger growth spike.

Strength was already plenty, so I dumped the free points into Dexterity and Intelligence, one each. Last time he’d been struggling so hard it was a little pitiful. Hoping he’d get even a little smarter, I confirmed the changes.

For sweeping an entire E-rank dungeon, the exp efficiency wasn’t bad. Growl’s level had started low, so the gap felt even bigger.

Compared to raising Hive, the leveling speed was on another dimension. Really drove home how important the training environment was.

Watching him grow into a proper melee dealer exactly as I’d planned felt great. Unlike Hive, whom I’d balanced out, Growl was a pure Strength specialist—his Strength alone already rivaled mine.

Looking at the number and levels of his skills, you could see why beasts and monsters got so terrifying at higher ranks. This early and the difference was already this big; of course they turned into monsters as they grew.

Hive got credit for subjugating the crows plus fanning the final flames bigger, so skill and level both rose by one.

No other big changes—he hadn’t done much flashy work this time. After evolving once his level looked reset, but pure level-wise he was 13. Different exp tanks made sense.

I added the leftover points from last time and put one each into Strength and Luck, then confirmed.

Born a crow, so no matter how balanced I tried to keep him, Dexterity always climbed. Most of the free stats from skill levels dumped into Dexterity too.

Still, higher is better—nothing wrong with that. Obsessing over perfect balance was just my own greed and self-satisfaction. Life never lines up neatly in 1s and 0s or multiples of 5 and 10, right?

Next: me.

Main class level and every skill I’d used most in combat all leveled. Nothing else worth fretting over. This was just a mid-check; the real deal would come after Growl and I both hit 10.

I dumped the free points into Luck and Dexterity.

Nice. Clean. Except for that eyesore of a title.

“What the hell is The Scorcher...”

The name sounded like someone had deliberately chuuni-fied “arsonist.” My first dungeon title and it was this garbage. Unlike every previous title, this one even had an effect.

...Broken. That was my first thought the second I saw the effect.

Fire-only, sure, but zero penalty and it raised both affinity and power. Anyone running a flame build would be clawing their throat out wanting this thing.

But I hadn’t even done the arson alone. My fires were just the ones I chucked at goblins and Nightshade; Hive and his crows were the ones who fanned them into an inferno.

Was it “the master bears everything”? Or because they shared my soul instead of a normal contract, their actions counted as mine? The flavor text was a bit creepy, but the effect itself was pure gold.

I wasn’t about to pick up fire skills anytime soon, but you never know where life takes you, right?

“Last one, I guess.”

I cleared the floating status windows and the dungeon rewards appeared.

According to prior research, Goblin’s Lair held 250 monsters. The reward for wiping them all was one piece of the accessory set called Forest’s Blessing.

Necklace, ring, earrings—equip the full set and you got a permanent buff named Grace of the Forest that raised Intelligence and mana recovery. Cash-strapped second-years used this place as a solid money farm.

So the extra kill was Nightshade—an impurity that never should have been here. That was why my reward changed.

Whether it had simply gone undiscovered, needed special conditions, or this whole situation was a fluke—I could just run the dungeon again and find out later.

“Let’s go.”

Dungeon clear.

I didn’t even need to say it out loud. The second the thought formed, light swallowed me whole. When I came to, I was dumped at the dungeon entrance. I brushed the ash off roughly and shoved myself straight back through the shimmering gate.

Rewards? I could check those later.

“This time, let’s go for an RTA.”

RTA—Real Time Attack. Also called a speedrun. Basically the exclusive playground of hardcore veterans competing for the fastest clear.

I’d mapped the place roughly and knew the enemy positions. Terrain randomized on entry, but Hive’s scouting alone would cover the variance.

A system mapping function would have been nicer, but you work with what you’ve got.

The thin membrane sensation, then the air changed. The world that had been burning moments ago vanished without a trace, replaced by clean forest air.

“Still can’t get used to this.”

Then again, worlds like this existed, so the resource shortages that always popped up in my past life never happened. Mana energy was more efficient than nuclear fusion and had more options, so no radiation headaches either.

“Keruk?”

“Shut up.”

Crunch!

The second I spotted a goblin I killed the system alert. At the same time Growl bit the thing’s throat out. Having fought them before, his reaction was lightning-fast.

Quest text would be the same anyway—too annoying to check every time. Speed was life right now. When else was a summoner supposed to abuse the class advantage?

“Leave two crows with me. The rest of you hunt on your own.”

“Woof!”

“Caw!”

With their stats, sticking together would be safer, but sweeping the whole area would take forever. Goal was clear: split up, farm to 10 as fast as possible.

Objective this run: kill the boss I never saw last time.

If anything got too heavy I could just dismiss and resummon them, so no real danger.

Growl and Hive shot deeper into the forest. I shoved the kill counter into the corner of my vision and started circling the outermost edge of the woods, away from the mountain.

Reason was simple.

There had been a noticeable gap between the forest catching fire and the dungeon actually clearing. Too fast for the boss to have fled outside, so it had to be sitting somewhere far from where I’d started the blaze.

The hint was already given.

This dungeon was called Goblin’s Lair. You don’t call a forest a “lair” just because goblins set up camp.

Thud!

“Guek...!”

“Ordinary goblins are one-shot now if I swing properly.”

High Intelligence meant solid mana output, and with Staff leveled the pipe felt natural in my hands. The stamina problem that used to bother me was slowly vanishing thanks to Endurance. Pretty soon I should look into a real weapon.

While clearing goblins and pushing deeper, I felt Hive spot something through our link. Following the shadow crow’s lead, the terrain turned rocky and uneven where forest met stone.

“...Bingo.”

On the outer edge of the dense woods, the ground suddenly dropped even though it still connected to the trees. Between the rocks below was something that looked exactly like a cave mouth. Growl and Hive were already waiting there, covered in blood from a fight.

“What, you already killed everything?”

“Grrn, woof woof!”

Growl shook his head and pointed his snout at me. What? He left my share? Checking the system, Growl was level 9 and Bite had climbed another level. How many goblins did he have to maul for a skill that just leveled to jump again?

Curious, I checked the kill count: 162. I’d only taken out maybe thirty, and it had taken about half an hour to get here, so the two of them had butchered around 130.

...They really went to town.

Just wiping the village packs was enough, but there were limits. Even if goblins were individually F-rank, Growl’s growth was a little abnormal. Like he was getting some kind of field bonus.

Maybe this forest was simply the perfect hunting ground for him. The original Gray Fang that became his base had lived in forests too.

“I don’t need that kind of consideration, you idiot.”

Whether I grew or you grew, it all helped. No need for half-assed kindness. He was too bloody to pet, so I just bonked his head like knocking on a door.

“Whine...”

“Play however you want. I’ll handle the cleanup.”

That was a master’s duty. If my class level didn’t rise I’d just run it again until it did. I only came ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠looking for this place because I wanted to fight the boss I never got to see.

No black goblin named anywhere on the way here, so if it wasn’t inside, it really was a mutant impurity.

“Lead the way.”

“Woof!”

Growl rose eagerly and I followed him into the cave. The entrance was narrow, but the inside had been expanded several times—plenty of room to swing a weapon.

Which also meant the boss could be huge.

Crunch, gulp... swallow!

Deeper in the cavern, a goblin with a body clearly massive compared to the others was stuffing handfuls of food into its mouth without even chewing. The piles of fruit and meat on either side said this wasn’t a one-time thing.

“Grrrk?”

The system voice and the fat goblin’s head turning toward us happened at the same time. Could you even call that a goblin? Shape and skin color were goblin, but it was so huge and obese it looked like a completely different species.

Thud, thud.

Just standing up made the ground tremble a little.

“Krrrng!! Kureak?!”

The second it saw us it started spraying spit and roaring in rage. The blood on Growl’s fur had set it off. The lesser goblins around it were the same—they’d been busy bowing and ferrying food, but now they lifted their heads and shrieked.

Kiek, kiek—the racket only excited the fat one more. It lumbered toward us. Two meters tall easy, well over a hundred kilos. More orc than goblin.

But the moment it got close enough, the letters that appeared above its head shut that thought down cold.

[Boss – Grid Goblin]

“Guraaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!”

From somewhere it produced a giant club that looked like a whole log snapped into a club, roared, and swung it straight at us.

“You’re up!”

“Woof!”

Growl and I split left and right at the same time.

BOOM!!!

A massive whoosh and the floor exploded. Rock dust and dirt flew everywhere. Being a cave, ventilation was garbage—the cloud hung thick and wrecked visibility.

I’d leave the inside to Growl. My job wasn’t a duel with the pig; it was cleaning the goblins harassing from the sides. I wrapped mana around the steel pipe like a sheath. Fighting had taught me that circulating it outside instead of stuffing it inside reduced the kickback.

Difference between hitting with mana versus reinforcing and hitting. I could force mana inside if I wanted, but efficiency sucked.

The second Grid Goblin moved I charged the ones scrambling behind it. A black-hooded goblin and a slightly muscular one with an axe appeared—Warrior and Thief I’d met before.

“Keririk!”

“Ke...!”

They stepped up like bodyguards for the archers and rock-throwers in the rear. A quick glance showed a goblin wearing a feathered headdress-like crown barking orders. New type. Also a rag-robed one and a leaf-hatted archer. Still no black goblin.

None.

That settled it. The black goblin was an irregular—an impurity someone had deliberately planted. Coincidence? The day the inspectors showed up and started poking the academy, this started happening.

If anything like this had happened before, Hong Su-ah never would have given me dungeon access.

First reason: I was a student here. Second: I was a national asset. If I took a fatal wound or permanent disability from something unexpected, it became a national loss.

They wouldn’t handle pure revenge this sloppily. I’d trust the former soldier for now. If she had dirt she’d dig it up herself.

Long digression, but the faculty clearly knew nothing about this mess.

Lucky the new semester had just started and traffic was low. If this had been left alone, things could have spiraled. Anyone who died inside got listed as missing.

The academy handed out emergency escape items to prevent isolation in other dimensions, but I bet those had been tampered with too.

Best escape was still clearing the mission and declaring dungeon clear—but that only worked in low-rank places. In the high-rank dungeons second- and third-years used, you’d be trapped with no way forward or back.

If it blew up, the chaos would ride the students straight into society.

Every student here had been called a genius or prodigy somewhere in the world. Heirs of famous houses, corporate scions, national treasures... none of them lacked connections.

The only reason people still sent them here was because the academy was safer than it was dangerous. Break that balance and people panic. Then the mastermind would use the panic to shake the academy from inside and out again.

“Whoever planned this...”

Their personality was pure garbage. I yanked the axe from my belt, flung it at the Thief, and at the same time smashed the steel pipe into the Warrior’s leg.

Clang! Crack!

“Kehuk...!!”

Skill proficiency, Strength 12, and mana combined—the Warrior’s leg snapped like a dry reed. Bone punched through flesh; the thing’s eyes rolled back and it screamed while flailing the axe wildly to drive me off.

But Dexterity near 30 let me read the clumsy, pain-addled trajectory crystal clear. Add Observation and the attack slowed to a crawl.

Whoosh!!!

“Slow.”

“Kek...?!”

An off-balance swing wasn’t scary. I slipped into its side during the big wind-up and instead of the Warrior I targeted the Thief hanging back, waiting for an opening. Mana-packed pipe swung hard.

Crack!! Crunch!

Its head exploded; the body crumpled where it stood. One down.

I didn’t kill the momentum—used the full swing to spin a full circle. Vision swam for a second but I never loosened my grip. Centrifugal force carried the uppercut straight into the empty back of the Warrior’s skull.

Thud!!

“K...”

Unstable stance meant less power than before, but the back of its head still caved in completely. Half-dead already, but just in case I stomped its nape until it snapped, then threw myself backward.

Whoosh!!

Something punched through the space I’d just occupied. Across the way an archer goblin was glaring at me, rock-throwers lined up behind it. From their midst the feathered-crown goblin stepped forward with solemn dignity.

“Kek! Kekekekek!!”

It glanced once at where Growl was fighting, then gestured at me and screeched. The archer nocked another arrow; the others cocked their arms with stones.

“Fucking goblins using tactics now.”

Run? Too late. Turning my back just painted a target. I scanned for cover—nothing decent. Only the Warrior corpse I’d just dropped.

“Tsk.”

Better than dying to rocks. I spun the corpse around and curled behind it, head tucked.

“Kerek.. Kururura!!”

“Kiiik!!!”

Thudududududu!!!

The rain of stones hitting a body-length away sounded exactly like a downpour. Midway an arm snapped and the corpse jolted; I couldn’t block everything. Shards from shattered rocks stung my face. Hot something ran down my cheek with the sharp pain.

I clenched my teeth and poured more mana into the wrap around my body. Not yet. Not yet. The second they reloaded for another volley I called the name I hadn’t used once since entering this cave.

“Hive!!”

“Caaaaw!”

Hive, waiting in the dark, shot out leaving a blue-black afterimage. Merged with shadow, it was too fast for my eyes to track.

Skill Shadow Dash. Hide in darkness and Strength and Dexterity both jump by 3; you can dive in silent and lightning-fast.

Crunch!

Through the gaps in the tattered corpse I saw Hive ripping the feathered goblin’s eyes out while still alive. At the same time shadow crows burst from Hive’s body and tore through the goblin pack, sowing chaos.

Thud, clack.

The falling stones shifted from me to the Hives. I scrambled free of the corpse and sprinted.

Whistle!!

Wind sound—no hesitation. I swung the pipe straight at the archer’s position.

“I’ve only been watching you, you little shit!!”

Crack!

The shattered arrow hit the ground. Clearly unexpected; the archer fumbled for another shaft, but my mana-loaded bone axe was already in the air.

Crunch!

“Keuk...”

Leaf hat and head split clean in half. The body flailed its arms a couple times then flopped. The other goblins started shrieking when they realized something was wrong, but their commander was already down.

“Die already!!!”

Crunch! Crack!

Ordinary goblins weren’t even a warm-up. Just a swarm of bugs. One after another their heads burst or necks ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠snapped under my swings; the survivors finally felt fear and started running.

Whoosh!

Suddenly the back of the cave lit up. Not the existing torches— a fireball bloomed out of thin air.

“Kerrr, keke, kerrrruk.”

“...Haa, fucking hell, it never ends.”

I cripple the commander and now a mage is throwing a tantrum? The thought of that fireball hitting while I was still pinned under the corpse made my skin crawl.

Thank god I’d kept Hive hidden. Problem was Hive was currently busy with the command unit, so stopping the mage was on me—and the path was clogged with trash.

I didn’t charge forward. I turned around instead. Not far away lay the goblin whose head I’d split. Without a commander the rest were a disorganized mess. Proof: they were already looting the gear off the ones I’d killed, cackling and fighting over it. One was even straining to yank the bone axe still stuck in a skull.

“Get the fuck off!”

Thud!!

I caved in the scavenger’s head with the pipe, yanked the bone axe free, and smashed the face of another goblin that had started looting without permission.

Crack!

“Don’t get in my way!”

I swept the axe in a wide arc to clear space, then rested it on my shoulder and poured mana to the absolute limit.

Creak, creak-creak.

The axe in my hands started vibrating like a phone on silent. Faint crimson mana leaked from the cracks as the bone split. I steadied my breathing and gauged the distance.

“Shit.”

...Too far to just throw. Closing in would let the spell finish first.

Clatter!

I tossed the pipe, gripped the axe haft with both hands, and spun my body with mana. Never done a hammer throw in my life, but stats and mana would have to cover it. Eyes locked on the spinning background, I hurled it dead at the rag-robed goblin.

“Hup!”

Whoooooosh!!!

A wind roar bigger than anything I expected carried the white bone axe. Unfamiliar motion—it never reached the goblin. But the second it buried itself in the ground—

BOOOOM!!!!

The stored mana detonated, blowing the ground out from under the rag-robed caster. The half-finished fireball went wild and slammed into Grid Goblin’s back instead of me.

“........!!!!!!!”

It screamed and started rolling around trying to put out the fire on its back. Blessing in disguise, I guess.

“...Haa, haa.”

I waited for the spinning world to settle, then scooped up the fallen pipe and slung it over my shoulder. Exhausted. First time since reincarnation I’d moved this hard.

Clothes plastered to me with sweat, reeking of goblin corpses—all I wanted was a shower.

“Fuck...”

Why did I have to go through this crap? All I wanted was peaceful rest, but the world wouldn’t leave me alone. How the hell was I supposed to make this fucked-up world even a little quieter? I mechanically crushed goblin skulls as I advanced.

“Caw!”

Hive returned to my side the moment I arrived.

“Keek! Keeeeeek!!”

“Shut up, you bastard.”

Clang!

I swung the pipe at the head of the one that had chased after Hive; it screamed and went down. I deliberately held back just enough not to kill it. Crushed both shoulders underfoot, then grabbed its head and focused mana into my grip.

“Keek, keeeeeek... kebuek...!!”

It thrashed its legs trying to escape, but broken shoulders just flopped uselessly. Something in the commander’s voice pulled every scattered goblin’s gaze toward us at once.

Even Grid Goblin, still writhing in pain, looked over. Clear as day. That dumb gluttonous pig sat on the throne of this cave, but the real power ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was this one. A figurehead boss.

Crunch!

“Keburek...”

With every eye on me I crushed its skull. The vivid sensation of something compacting and bursting under my fingers made me grimace; I casually tossed the corpse into the air.

Splat.

Skull already gone, it hit the ground like a water balloon. Fear finally frosted the eyes staring at me. Good. The primal emotion every living thing should have.

The commander’s skill had erased it; cutting the skill and putting on a show dragged it back by force.

I stepped forward. The goblins flinched and edged away. I snorted. One dead commander and the swagger from a minute ago vanished—now they were just looking for an escape route. Pathetic.

“Grrr... grrr...”

Thanks to that I reached Grid Goblin in one go. Its whole body was a mess of wounds; finding an uninjured spot would be faster. Exhausted from fighting Growl, its shoulders heaved with ragged breaths.

Growl wasn’t pristine ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠either. Something had hit him hard enough that he staggered, yet he never took his eyes off the enemy.

“Growl.”

“Awooooooo!!”

He howled on cue like we’d practiced it a hundred times. I ran past him.

“Gruwaaaaa!!!”

Whoosh!

The log club swinging at me had none of the earlier force. I ducked under the head-aimed swing and cracked the pipe across its wrist.

Crack! Snap.

“Gruuwaaaa...”

A clean sound and the wrist broke. Grip gone, the club clattered free. It clutched its hand, tears of blood in its eyes, glaring at me.

“Yeah? What about it.”

I was the one who wanted to complain. I went through all this shit just to kill you—think you’re the only one having a bad day? Quantity spam isn’t your monopoly.

“Grra... graaaaaaa!!!!”

It swung a fist with the other hand, but it was way too slow. A simple sidestep dodged it. Growl seized the opening, bit the hand, twisted his whole body, and ripped a finger clean off.

“....!!!!”

Grid Goblin went berserk. I stepped back and watched the tantrum. It would tire eventually. I kept Hive harassing its vision so it couldn’t focus.

“Just die already.”

I wanted a shower. Reports to make, a mountain of things to handle. I’d love to just collapse and sleep, but future-me would hate me even more, so I held on.

Whether it understood or not, the second its eyes locked on me Growl leapt from behind and clamped onto its throat.

“Gruaaaaaa...!”

Thud! Thud! Thud!

While it thrashed trying to tear Growl off, Hive pecked out its eyes. Even the broken-wrist arm flailed; any warrior image was long gone.

The moment one leg left the ground I smashed the other hamstring.

Clang!

The forced bend dropped the massive body. Through it all Growl never released the throat. Teeth that had sunk past flesh finally tore a whole chunk free.

Blood sprayed everywhere. Strength gone, it collapsed face-down, only ragged breaths left.

Hive melted into shadow to scout the area. I stepped up to the now eye-level Grid Goblin and poured mana hard into the pipe.

Crack.

“Ah.”

I’d thought it was tough enough to last, but it was still just a tool, not a real weapon. A long crack ran from the tip all the way to the bandage I’d wrapped. I gave a bitter smile.

“Well, I did use it a long time.”

Crunch!

Last one. I brought the pipe down on Grid Goblin’s head. The skull caved and the neck snapped at the same time.

Crack! Clatter.

The crack widened and the steel pipe shattered, pieces scattering across the floor. Thanks for the hard work. I poked the lolling tongue with a leftover shard—no reaction.

“Dead.”

The second I confirmed it the system rang.

Confirmation done. Sweeping the rest of the goblins wouldn’t even register. Somewhere along the way my Summoner level had hit 9. Growl had just reached 10 with that kill, so half the goal was complete.

“...Clear.”

I wanted to keep going, but honestly I was out of gas. If this were a game I could grind all day, but moving my real body made the physical fatigue unreal.

I skipped the flood of messages again and jumped straight to rewards.

The reward was solid. Simple silver ring with a tiny green gem cut into a leaf shape. Even though it was bigger than my finger, the second I put it on it resized perfectly to my hand.

Most dungeon artifacts worked like that—auto-adjusted to the wearer.

Checking the status window, Intelligence now showed an extra (+3).

Nothing left to take from this dungeon. Farming the full accessory set could wait; I could do it anytime. No usable weapon left anyway, and even if I wanted to keep going I was too wiped. Tell me to continue and I’d just flop on my back and refuse.

“First... evolution time, I guess.”

The moment I’d been waiting for—Growl’s evolution.