The Canyon of Hidden Scales

The moment I set foot in the dungeon, I dismissed the system window that floated into my vision and surveyed my surroundings.

The crumbly texture of the parched earth clashed with the subtly humid air that hung heavy around us, weighing down my lungs. It felt like diving deep into the sea, and my brow furrowed of its own accord.

Despite its name, the Canyon of Hidden Scales looked more like a vast cavern. Or rather, the bottom of a canyon. Looking up, faint sunlight filtered down through the split outer walls, like a door left ajar, and that only doubled the sense of confinement.

I couldn’t even begin to guess how enormous the lizards hidden below must have been to carve out a chamber this size. At least it meant Hive would have plenty of room to fly around freely—small mercies.

“Ah, the starting position isn’t great.”

At Kang So-seon’s words I fixed my gaze on her. No sniping, no picking at her phrasing—just looking, the silent invitation to continue. She sensed it, smiled softly, and went on.

“There are three starting points in the Canyon of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Hidden Scales. One is the rocky mountain at the top of the canyon, another is the wasteland on the opposite side, and the last is right here—the bottom of the canyon.”

She trotted into the darkness beyond the reach of the sunbeams, retrieved something, and held it out for me to see. An animal tooth—enormous, wickedly sharp.

“Unlike the other two, the terrain here is almost cavernous, so visibility and attack options are limited. Some of them hide in the dark and force ambushes, which makes them a pain… and they’re so fragile that they don’t even give a satisfying cut compared to the ones elsewhere.”

The information was secondary. Watching her sink to the ground in genuine dejection and start sketching some grotesque lizard with the tooth made my head start to throb.

This woman—if she hadn’t entered the academy, she would almost certainly have become a serial killer somewhere. The obsession with the “feel of the cut” was that intense. And she was the face of the academy? Was this world even okay?

What did you expect?

Right. The world was already spinning off its axis. Compared to that, she was only mildly insane. At least she wasn’t out there slicing people up.

“First, tell me your position and what you can ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠do, sunbae.”

“Ah, my specialty is magic, but I can use a sword too. Thanks to my class skill Munmu-gyeombi, training one side gives me the exact same results on the other.”

“…”

What kind of broken skill was that?

If she was telling the truth, grinding either magic or swordsmanship to death would automatically make her proficient in the other. In other words, she got more than double the efficiency of anyone else who studied and trained the same amount.

Good at academics, good with her body. Exactly as the skill name said—well-versed in both literary and military arts.

No wonder she’s vice president.

A little twisted, a little eccentric, but if she was this confident her skill had to be the real deal. Whining about being weak with a cheat skill like that would just be fishing for compliments.

The student council president’s seat would open in a year, and it was already hers for the taking. Which meant I was probably stuck dealing with this woman for the next year or two.

The thought made the fine hairs on my arms stand up. My head already hurt, and I had to be tangled up with her for two more years? I seriously considered dropping out, then shook my head. Running away from here would only land me with someone worse.

“…For now, sunbae, take the rear-line DPS position and stick to magic.”

“Yeees.”

The drawn-out ending made it clear she wasn’t happy about being kept off the front line. The way she sulked yet still obeyed was pure child. Wait—she was still a kid, wasn’t she?

Spending more time with adults than students inside the academy had apparently shifted my thinking toward the adult side. I emptied my head for a moment, pictured Hive and Growl, and flicked a mana-charged finger.

Snap.

“Caw!”

“Woof!”

They appeared on cue without me even calling their names. Satisfying.

Once my proficiency rose further, I wouldn’t even need the finger snap—just thinking and moving mana would be enough.

“Kyaaah!!”

I was still basking in that small but solid growth when a scream erupted beside me.

I startled, wondering what had happened, only to find Kang So-seon had already flung herself at Growl as if embracing him and was now luxuriating in his fur without restraint.

“…Sunbae?”

She looked happier than I did, completely ignoring my awkward stare as she indulged herself.

“Waaah, waaaah! He’s such a huge doggy! The fur’s so soft, and—sniff… haaah! He smells good too!”

“Whine… whiiine…”

Growl looked at me, trapped and whimpering, so pitiful that I grabbed the nape of Kang So-seon’s neck—still drooling and sparkling-eyed as she chanted “Paw pads, paw pads!”—and yanked her back.

“Get off him. He doesn’t like it. And careful—he may look like that, but he’s a wolf. Growl, stop whining.”

What kind of beast folds its tail the second a girl shows up? You need to establish dominance a little, just enough that nobody gets hurt.

“Hubae-nim! So you’re a summoner?! Does that mean you can always summon cute little ones like these?! That’s it, right?! I’m so jealous!!”

The moment I peeled her off Growl she scooped Hive into her arms and began stroking his wings as carefully as if combing them. Even so, she looked ready to devour him the second she got the chance. I frowned, snatched Hive from her embrace, and set him on Growl’s back.

“Aaaah…”

Like a child whose toy had been taken. I wasn’t giving him back. This was a dungeon, not a picnic.

“What are their names? Did you make separate contracts with someone?”

“They’re not contract summons—they’re my familiars. Calling their names won’t let anyone else summon them.”

It happened. Someone saw a contracted beast they liked, offered better terms, and stole the contract. You might think that was unfair, absurd even, but in this world it was surprisingly common.

Summoners were rarer than other classes, so even when the issue went public it never gained much sympathy. Half-baked ones abandoned contracts, sure, but anyone with a proper head on their shoulders never broke a contract without mutual consent—unless something forced the bond to vanish.

I had zero interest in dealing with that headache, so I focused on familiars from the start.

Kang So-seon let out an “Ah!” of understanding, looked back and forth between me and Growl, then nodded in acceptance.

“I thought he resembled you a little. So that’s why. Isn’t it hard?”

“…? Why would it be hard?”

Creating them the first time was the hard part. After that, raising and growing familiars only brought advantages.

But he resembled me? I glanced at the panting, dejected-looking mutt and snorted. Sorry, but not even close.

“Grrrr…”

“Yeah, yeah, my bad, you little punk.”

I patted the scruff of his neck until the low snap of irritation faded, then gave Hive—perched behind Growl—his orders.

“Release the kids and start scouting. Collect every scrap of information, no matter how small.”

“Caaaw!”

Flutter!

Hive shot into the air. From beneath his feathers a flock of shadow crows poured out and scattered into the dark depths of the canyon. Sitting still would eventually gather intel, but my goal wasn’t clearing the dungeon—it was filling the codex.

“Caw.”

Linked to me and knowing exactly what I wanted, Hive found the top priority target and reported. I walked in the direction he led, wrapping shadows around my uniform for reinforcement while drawing a shadow blade into my hand.

“Sunbae.”

“Ah, yes. Coming.”

At my call she drew the sword at her hip instead of a staff and approached with a lingering smile, the earlier excitement still not fully gone.

“You’re really something, hubae-nim. So this is you running the teacher’s errand, right? Any interest in joining the student council later?”

“None. And focus. This is a dungeon.”

Why would I take on that kind of hassle? Leave that nonsense to the protagonist.

“Hmph… Understood.”

I ignored her pouted lips and followed Hive deeper underground without obstruction.

How long had we walked? Just as her mouth started itching again and she was about to speak, I raised a hand and stopped her. We had arrived. Sensing the monster nearby, her expression turned somewhat serious as she fell in behind me.

Shrrrk.

It was nestled in a gap between rocks—neither too wide nor too narrow. More salamander than lizard, a grotesque thing. If I had to compare, a large Komodo dragon, only with slicker scales.

Could you even call those scales? They looked exactly like amphibian skin. This wasn’t a dragon; it was a salamander liberally mixed with fantasy dragon elements.

If the science of my previous life had gone completely insane, extracted DNA from fossils, and crossbred it with salamanders, something exactly like this abomination would have been born. In short, a monster being a monster.

“Hubae-nim, that’s a ‘Smila.’ The slippery mucus seeping from its flexible, skin-like scales makes blades slide off, so swords don’t cut well.”

“Does magic work?”

“Yes. The mucus seems to be protein-based—if you roast it with fire it hardens right up.”

She clearly wasn’t lying about frequenting this place; the TMI poured out without hesitation. I was grateful, but the personal opinions she slipped in were downright ominous. Don’t tell me she remembered every monster by the hand-feel of cutting them…?

The cheerful way she flexed her sword hand made a chill run down my spine, so I stopped thinking about it. People could be like that. Sure.

“Then start with fire. I’ll handle the rest.”

“Yes! Understood.”

Fighting Leus had shown me the potential of these shadow weapons. Flexibility. Versatility. The perfect fighting style for someone who improvised like me.

But to make that method truly effective I needed proficiency with more weapons. Right now the only weapon skill I had was Staff. I needed as many skills as possible.

Proficiency was secondary—just having the skill gave a damage correction. Even if I eventually tossed everything to my summons, for now I still had to roll up my sleeves.

And stacking skills like this would also overturn the cliché of “You’re nothing without your summons!” Two birds with one stone. No downside to making the main body stronger. Think of it as an investment in the future and the heart rests easy.

“Slurp.”

I stepped forward first. The Smila’s aggro locked onto me naturally; it eyed me and licked its lips. The instant its jaws yawned wide I rolled sideways and swept my blade horizontally.

Slash!

A heavy sensation hit my hand as I cut the scarlet tongue that had shot precisely at where I’d stood. Thanks to the sticky mucus coating it, “cut” was generous—more like a light stab.

“Geeeek…”

Apparently the sensation disagreed with it; the creature retched repeatedly and chewed the inside of its mouth. It looked like a salamander but attacked like a frog.

“Burn the enemy.”

Her mana-laden voice rang clear, and residual mana in the air gathered around her. Lines of mana embroidered the air along her blade; the moment they completed, a basketball-sized fireball bloomed at the tip and began to roar.

“Fire Shot.”

The most basic single-target fire spell you learned first. Effect: launch a bullet of flame that burns the target. Simple, yet effective.

Normally it was a bit smaller than a baseball, but either the quality of her mana or her skill level made this one far larger and hotter. It slammed into the creature’s body.

“…!!”

The explosion on impact cooked it harder than expected; the Smila flopped onto the ground and shrieked. The areas that had touched the fire—and the surroundings—had turned chalky white and cracked, completely different from the still-moist parts.

Magic really was good. If I was going to use a rear-line dealer, one that could cast magic was definitely better. My heart tilted firmly toward the magic side.

Admiration was fine, but first I had to finish this thing. To target the hardened mucus I needed to stop its thrashing.

“Growl.”

“Woof!”

The Smila was only about the size of a large dog; Growl was already bigger. He pinned it with his forepaws and clamped its nape in his jaws.

Crunch.

A sound like chewing scorched rice, and the creature began thrashing violently. Probably because the dried, hardened scales had torn and exposed flesh.

“Geeeek…! Geeck!”

For all the noise, its body didn’t budge. Its strength was simply lower than Growl’s. That was all.

The screaming was getting annoying, so I stomped its head with a mana-reinforced foot and shut its mouth. Whenever it moved I pressed harder; when mucus tried to cover the area I formed spikes on the sole of my shoe, locked it in place, and pressed even harder.

After a while its strength finally gave out. Tongue lolling, it went limp. I aimed for the nape and drove the shadow blade home. One strong convulsion, then it sagged completely.

And just like that it was dead. Far too easy for a C-rank dungeon creature. Hearing the weakness first helped, but the thing itself wasn’t strong. Strip away the mucus gimmick and its stats were only a little higher than D—closer to E.

Clap clap clap!

“You handled that so easily.”

“…Thanks to you, sunbae.”

The way she stood behind me clapping looked exactly like an employee yelling “Nice shot, manager!”—or was that just me? Her gaze still fixed on Growl suggested her intentions weren’t entirely pure.

I opened the Book of Summoning, but no sub-dragon appeared.

I hadn’t wiped them out like the goblins, nor observed and fought them for ages like the spiders, so of course not.

Nothing for it. Time to train the long-neglected Dismantle skill.

I shaped shadows into form-fitting gloves and a petite knife suited for delicate work. Starting from the existing wounds I scored the scaled areas, then moved the shadows to peel the hide. Convenient in that regard.

Before I had this, I had to strip hides with raw strength, ending up covered in blood and grease—exhausting and disgusting. With proper tools the work flowed smoothly. Heaven.

That whole “a craftsman never blames his tools” line was pure nonsense. Good tools raised efficiency this much—why turn them down?

“Um, hubae-nim? What are you doing right now?”

Startled by my sudden desecration of the monster corpse, Kang So-seon asked. Ah, this was why I’d wanted to do it alone. How was I supposed to explain this to other people?

I gave her a dubious look—her staring ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at me and the corpse—and opened my mouth.

“Work.”

“…Ah~ Is that so?”

See that? A second ago her eyes had still been human. Now they were the eyes you give a headache-inducing weirdo. The warm, understanding gaze that said she “got it” without a word made my stomach twist.

“Huu.”

Thanks to the good tools, dismantling finished quickly.

The magic stone I found was a round bead the size of a thumbnail. Previous stones had been mostly blue with a purple tint; this one was the opposite—mostly purple.

I shoved the perfectly separated parts into a corner and checked the Book of Summoning again. Still no sub-dragon name.

“Tsk.”

“What have you been checking so intently?”

At my tongue-click she poked her head into half my field of view. I pushed her head away with one hand.

“Eguugu.”

“Don’t cling.”

Why was this woman so sticky? The way she casually invaded my personal space felt similar to a certain someone, so I shoved without holding back.

She pouted, planted both hands on her hips, and openly broadcast “I’m mad.”

“I request an improvement in how you treat me, hubae-nim!”

I thought she was about to complain that I’d hit her, but that was all she said. Far too soft-hearted. If someone scammed her into co-signing a loan she’d probably believe them and go along.

“…What do you want?”

“Ah, so you are listening?”

“What exactly do you think I am, sunbae?”

“A lone-wolf dictator who doesn’t even tell his party members the objective and just says ‘follow me’?”

…True, I hadn’t explained why I’d come here. She’d heard the rough version from the teacher, but hearing it directly from the person moving on-site would put the other party at ease.

Problem was, I genuinely had no grand purpose.

I was here purely for personal greed, okay? Explaining every reason was a pain, and I didn’t feel like airing private matters to someone I’d just met today.

Plus, who knew where the black-curtain magic beasts had their tentacles. In the end I chose to lean into the concept she’d given me.

“Just think you got stuck with that dictator and follow along.”

“Eeeh… Then at least let me pet Mongsil.”

Who gave her permission to call him Mongsil?

I hadn’t named him myself, but Growl was a perfectly cool name. Looking at it now, the dictator wasn’t me—it was her. The way she kept dancing right on the line of crossing it showed practiced skill.

Barely ten minutes since we met and half my first impression was already gone. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I ignored the grumbling Kang So-seon behind me and headed for the next enemy.

Thoom, grrr-thoom…

A massive footfall echoed from far away. The entire pupil of my eye trembled; sand dust rained from the ceiling, and the bones underfoot rattled and rolled of their own accord.

“Judging by the direction of the vibration, it’s the wasteland side. The named Earth Dragon must have started moving.”

“Will it come all the way here?”

“No. The named ones here seem set not to leave their zones. Unless you deliberately provoke and lure them, they stay in their territory.”

“Ah, I see.”

It sounded exactly like the firsthand account of someone who had run the experiments herself.

The sensation I’d often felt in the lab, combined with her confident smile, only reinforced that impression.

Normally you’d think “She really put in the work on the strategy,” but from her I could glimpse an obsession bordering on a scientist’s madness.

At this point I was almost curious what had made her this way.

But I didn’t voice the question. Curiosity killed the cat. No one was without a story, and getting tangled with strange people only brought bad things.

I had no desire to go looking for trouble, so I thoroughly maintained my indifference.

“Sunbae, could you explain the named ones in detail?”

Information was a different matter. I’d moved roughly and hadn’t researched deeply, so solid data was lacking. In times like these it was easier to rely on an experienced person.

“Yes! There are three named: the Earth Dragon in the wasteland, the Rock Dragon on the rocky mountain, and the Ground Dragon here. All earth-related, but their forms are different so the cutting feel and toughness vary. The Rock Dragon especially is so hard that—”

She looked ready to talk forever if I didn’t stop her, so I sealed her mouth with shadow.

“Mmph, mmph.”

“Skip the fluff and give me only the important parts.”

She blinked, then casually interfered with my shadow mana using her own, peeled the seal off her lips, and began grumbling with a pout.

I didn’t soothe her.

She wasn’t my woman—what was the point of treating her well? Charging in happily in a place like this was protagonist work. A woman this overflowing with individuality had a high chance of becoming a new harem member for the protagonist.

Even if not, as current vice president and future president the odds of her getting tangled with the protagonist were extremely high.

If I gave ground once here, I’d have to keep giving ground later. That was the one thing I absolutely refused.

“Answer.”

“…Earth Dragon: giant earthworm. Rock Dragon: rock turtle. Ground Dragon: king mole.”

She answered in curt monosyllables with a sulky face, then huffed through her nose—clearly annoyed that I’d sealed her mouth on a whim. Still, the fact that she answered diligently showed her good nature.

Separately, I thoroughly ignored her reaction.

By now she should have realized I wasn’t the fun type. I hoped she’d treat me businesslike too… but looking at that reaction, no chance.

I let out a short sigh, compiled the information, and tilted my head. They’d said “dragons,” yet the lineup was amphibians and mammals with zero relation to reptiles.

Even for sub-dragons, such a haphazard collection of species was a first. The lesser monsters at least fit the lizard/scale category, but the ones above them proudly stepped outside that frame.

And this place was still called the Canyon of Hidden Scales.

I wondered if it related to the treasure hunt Hong Su-ah had mentioned, but the connection felt almost nonexistent when I actually thought about it.

“Are you going to keep ignoring me like that, hubae-nim?”

When I neither reacted nor engaged, she puffed out one cheek and spoke. After this much ignoring she should know when to back off—did she never get tired?

“…Haa. Sunbae, you should maintain some dignity. Aren’t you embarrassed in front of your hubae?”

“Hmm, strange. In my memory I haven’t done a single embarrassing thing. If anything, I think the hubae should show respect to his sunbae first.”

The shameless, confident way she pushed her opinion showed this wasn’t her first time.

Did this woman seriously think she’d come to the dungeon to play? I wanted to focus calmly, but I kept getting dragged into Kang So-seon’s pace and couldn’t concentrate.

I racked my brain for a way to shut her up, but no answer came.

If she’d been an enemy, if she’d done this with malice, I could have just stabbed her quiet. Sensing my dark thoughts, Kang So-seon gave a bitter smile and began speaking softly.

“You don’t need to overthink it. I just want my hubae to rely on me a little more as his sunbae.”

I made a face of genuine incomprehension. If it was something you could do alone, just do it alone. Why complicate it by dividing the work? I couldn’t understand.

What meaning was there in the inefficient act of creating work for yourself? If it were me I’d just rest. She was an exhausting person.

“Rely or not—what’s the point?”

“There’s a big point. This is advice from a sunbae.”

Then why not just teach the answer? Throwing out problems and then being a nuisance like this only made my irritation climb. Did I really need to humor this woman while feeling this way?

“I don’t get it, so you adjust to me, sunbae. If you don’t like it, leave.”

“Uwaaak! Hubae-nim, don’t you think that sounds way too trashy even coming from your own mouth?”

“The one who followed that trash is you, sunbae. I warned you at the start.”

I ignored her glare, turned my head, and walked on. Grumbling, she still trailed after me like a chick, then clenched both fists and declared:

“I will definitely tear down your iron fortress, hubae-nim!”

Once we’re close I can play with Mongsil sometimes, right? Ehehe.

She’d muttered it trying not to be heard, but the cave acoustics carried every word.

She herself was too busy fantasizing about a happy future that would never come to notice. That vacant, grinning face was proof enough.

She was so faithful to her own desires that there wasn’t even room for suspicion.

The concentration of the fantasy grew so thick that even the observer felt put off; Growl, walking ahead, folded his ears back as if imagining that bleak future.

No need to keep glancing back at her and me. I was never falling for it. Getting tangled with this noisy type—one of them was already more than enough.

Thwack.

“Ow!”

“Focus and get ready for combat.”

Leaving the woman clutching her head and groaning behind me, I advanced toward the pack of mucus lizards approaching from ahead.