Chapter 48

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Translator: penny

Chapter: 48

Chapter Title: Goblin Cave

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Chase had assembled the 7th raiding party.

He'd given up on bringing mercenaries along.

Something must have gone down inside the dungeon—a fight, probably.

He decided to chalk it up to the escape scrolls being discovered or something like that.

Heading in with unreliable types introduced too many variables.

For a smooth raid, he absolutely had to go with the dwarves, no matter what.

That was Chase's thinking.

But once again, the dwarves' response was ice-cold.

"……."

It was only natural.

There was no longer any greater cause or justification for exploring Dreamland.

They gathered magic stones to revive the city.

And the dwarves who obtained those stones would earn honor.

That was the extent of it.

After sacrificing 40 dwarves, all they'd gained was info on the elevator.

People had signed up early on, but now, after six raids already...

Even the bravest dwarves had no choice but to turn away from a dungeon yielding no results.

'Should I go in alone?'

Chase sighed into his tankard at the tavern.

"Why the long face? Raid not going to plan?"

Chase turned his head.

There was his old friend Gronak, grinning casually. They'd been tight for years.

"What're you doing here already? You didn't seriously get spooked by goblins and bail, did you?"

"Isn't it about time you admitted this Gronak's hammer is the real deal? Wiped 'em out and headed back today, you punk."

Gronak was a ranger.

He handled monster culls around Fire Forge, boasting veteran kill records spanning over a decade. A top-tier powerhouse in the forge, by all accounts.

"You look like hell. Where's that precious chin beard you fussed over? Don't tell me you lost it in the dungeon."

"Hey, Gronak."

"Yeah?"

"Logically, quitting makes sense... but what do you do when you just don't want to? Feels like if I drop it now, it'll haunt me forever."

Chase spilled his troubles.

His reflection wavered in the ale like choppy waves.

"You've always been like that."

"Huh?"

"A psycho who can't rest till he solves every damn mystery."

Chase snorted.

He didn't deny it.

"Want me to tag along?"

Gronak said suddenly.

"Could die, you know."

"Could not."

"Got two escape scrolls left, perfect."

"There we go."

"You and me raiding a dungeon solo?"

"Prime-time mage and active ranger? Nothing to fear. New dungeon, too—we can handle anything."

Chase pondered.

Not a rational call.

But.

This was his friend's final lifeline.

A small elite team might be better.

Bringing crowds before was to unravel more riddles.

From the logs, failure meant instant death.

More people should help crack the puzzles, he'd thought.

But now...

In uncontrolled chaos, numbers could turn poisonous.

Rebellion or splits hit harder than any dungeon riddle.

Chase nodded at last.

He wasn't giving up.

If this raid bore real fruit...

He might sway the market chief and the rest.

Crisis breeds opportunity.

The phrase fit this moment perfectly.

"Let's do it. Two's slim, though."

And so the two dwarves geared up and launched the 7th Dreamland raid.

Dungeon Exploration Day 1

The trek from entrance to elevator went off without a hitch.

"Just like you said—they don't attack if you stay still."

"I'll head in this time. Ping me with comms magic if shit hits the fan."

Chase had pieced together the elevator rules from prior intel.

And they checked out.

No lights in corridors, headcount, bug-humans—watch those, and you won't die.

Knowing the rules meant no more elevator fears.

Chase linked comms with Gronak and stepped inside.

'Bet I've seen this contraption before.'

A weird thrill.

Imagining his past self—memory blank—pushing buttons to the next zone made his heart race.

'Password...'

Like Julius and Yuben.

Chase grasped why the elevator reset to floor 1.

Three moves, back to start.

Not conquering dark corridors.

Punching the right numbers.

10 9 8, 10 9 7.

He pressed methodically.

Then.

9 8 7—and vibration hit.

Kuung—

Clear drop sensation.

Prime screaming material, but Chase was certain: correct.

If he died lamely here, he'd never have escaped before.

View shifted.

Plummeting elevator body hit dirt in a blink.

"……."

Instantaneous.

Eerie chill, but success: next zone, easy as pie.

"Password's 987. Press in order, you'll move."

-Roger.

Gronak arrived too.

Meanwhile, Chase's detection magic uncovered something intriguing.

He flipped open the log and sketched a map.

The party had landed right before the core room.

Skipping long halls and vast areas.

Chase shared this with Gronak.

"For real?"

"Don't get too hyped. Dungeon Master's no idiot—probably reverse progression. Elevator's for that."

Chase looked up.

A stunning night sky.

This was a forest.

Wind rustled leaves and flowers in a blooming dance.

Detection magic or not, you might mistake it for outdoors—so intricate.

But an unbearable stench stabbed the nose.

What the hell was that smell from?

"Strange place."

"Dungeons are like that. Rumor is Dungeon Masters, like gods of oblivion, craft not just minions but nature scenes too. Anyway..."

Chase and Gronak eyed ahead.

A massive cave.

Carved from a mountain, colossal.

Big enough to blot sky and woods.

Interior scale unimaginable, endless.

"Calling this Zone 3 from now on. Cool?"

"Yeah."

"Zone 3's mostly that cave, I'd say."

Chase pointed back as proof.

Hit an invisible barrier—couldn't go further.

"Elevator's probably inside. We scout from here. Think huge building, 80 floors."

"Whew, tense."

"Yep. Stay tense. No clue what hits next—keep escape scroll prepped..."

Thud.

Before words ended, Gronak faceplanted forward.

"……."

Spine went cold.

Yelling "who's there" was pointless here.

Sign of anomalies kicking in.

"Ugh..."

Chase collapsed too.

Dizziness and limpness seized him.

Dying here?

No.

Not this dungeon's vibe.

Body frozen, mind sharp.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Senses alive.

Footsteps approaching.

Bipedal, like them—sound said so.

Rustle rustle.

It groped Chase's body.

What the...?

Wonder didn't last.

Why he'd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠escaped barehanded before.

Probably...

'Looted by this thing.'

It snatched the backpack.

Body lightened.

Same rustles from Gronak, then footsteps faded.

Moments later.

Chase and Gronak rose.

"Fuck, escape scroll's gone?"

"Not just that. Water, rations—all vanished."

"My gear I blew my paycheck on... Shit, we're screwed?"

"...Pretty much."

Escape scrolls as last resort.

But Dreamland made that naive.

Dire straits.

Yet Gronak chuckled.

That was his strength.

Staying upbeat always—that's how he survived as a vet ranger.

"Unbelievable. What dungeon yoinks scrolls right off the bat?"

"Same here."

"Gone for good?"

"Doubt it."

Chase had escaped the dungeon.

So a way to reclaim gear existed.

'Thought it was just dismantling insta-kills like the elevator. Wrong.'

Probably thought the same last time.

Chase grimaced bitterly.

'If only I'd brought the log...'

Regret useless.

Probably impossible anyway.

Past Chase knew no-log raid was pointless.

"Heads up from now. Screw up, you're crossing the black gate."

"Got it."

"Move."

The two dwarves entered the cave.

Pffft— Pffft— Pffft—

"Urp."

"Hang on, Squishy. Almost done."

I'm meticulously ripping the intruder's log.

Tricky spots? Blacked out with pen.

Can't hand over Zone 3 intel.

Why bother ripping the log?

To shake 'em up max.

These intruders are here to rape my dungeon's heart.

No holds barred on my end.

Got data from the vets: dwarf bros fight hard.

Too risky for me direct.

"Done. Squishy, go time!"

Slapped Squishy's plump body.

That jiggle felt satisfying.

"Urp."

Squishy headed to Zone 3.

I eyed the monitor again.

Humans repeat mistakes, they say.

Dwarves too.