Chapter 51

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Translator: penny

Chapter: 51

Chapter Title: Goblin Cave (4)

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Chase and Gronak investigated the first floor.

Assuming the two of them meticulously checked every spot, it would take about an hour.

Unfortunately, there was no elevator on the first floor.

That was only natural.

No dungeon master in their right mind would let intruders proceed to the next floor so easily.

'I figured it was probably near the 80th floor...'

They couldn't skip other floors either.

If the dungeon master had twisted things and placed the elevator on a middle floor, that would be a disaster in its own way—a false hope of sorts.

It was a suffocating situation, but with no other options, they had no choice but to tough it out.

The first floor was mostly empty space.

Aside from the stairs leading up, there were only statues and decorations, leaving it feeling barren.

But.

There was one spot worth noting: the warehouse.

There were three warehouses at the far end of the first floor.

Each had large windows allowing a view inside, but the doors were locked.

The contents differed for each: one seemed to store rotten meat gathered that morning, and the other two were likely for the goblin corpses from the cave up to now.

And.

The purpose of the last warehouse.

"Ah..."

Chase drew in a sharp breath.

Gronak approached at his friend's reaction, looking puzzled, only for his own expression to harden.

There were corpses in that place.

But they weren't goblin corpses.

They were human corpses.

Faces familiar to Chase.

The remains of the North Kingdom mercenary group he had lured into the dungeon during the sixth raid, using the alias "Chaide."

Gronak glanced around.

Confirming no one was nearby, he asked,

"You know them?"

Chase nodded.

"They're the human mercenaries I raided with last time. I have no memory, so I don't know what happened."

"I see."

Chase examined the corpses closely.

The cause of death was unclear, but even though some time had passed since their demise,

there were oddities about the unrotted bodies.

The most concerning was their ears.

Human ears were characteristically round and blunt,

but these looked pointed, like an elf's—hardly human.

And.

On a shelf in the warehouse sat what appeared to be the log from the sixth raid.

"......"

Chase tried the handle, but regrettably, like the other warehouses, the door was locked.

It was strange.

Even if it was something his past self had hidden for unforeseen circumstances,

he could have just taken the log out of the dungeon.

But.

With no memories... he couldn't outright dismiss it as a trap.

"We should look for a way to open these warehouses too."

"Sure."

The two continued their investigation.

The cave interior was quieter than expected.

A few goblins wandered the corridors,

but compared to the horde that had suddenly poured from the stairs, there should have been hundreds of times more.

'Not invisibility magic, so teleportation maybe?'

Chase decided not to dwell on it.

He'd skip anything incomprehensible.

It was better for his mental health that way.

The investigation continued.

From the second floor on, it felt almost like an inn.

Long corridors lined on both sides with rooms presumed to be goblin quarters.

Most were empty inside.

Up to the eighth floor, there were no notable finds.

Chase and Gronak entered an empty room.

"Let's rest here for now. To quickly check up to the 80th floor, breaks inside are essential anyway."

"Good. Just in case, let's take two-hour watches. You first, or me?"

"Either's fine."

"You first then."

There was a table in the room, topped with a glass bottle of murky water mixed with dirt.

Their throats were parched, but no way could they drink that.

'Maybe get drinking water from the merchant somehow, rations aside.'

Chase barely suppressed his thirst

and rested to the lullaby of Gronak's snores, as always.

.

.

.

.

.

Dungeon Exploration Day 3

"Uwaaaaaaaaah!!"

Chase bolted up from the floor where he'd been sleeping.

It was Gronak's scream.

"What!? What's wrong!?"

"Ch-Chase, I-I-I c-can't s-see..."

The moment he saw Gronak's face, Chase was horrified.

He couldn't see.

It wasn't simple blindness.

"Aah, aaah..."

Gronak's eyes had changed bizarrely.

Just like the goblins inhabiting this cave.

They were no longer eyes—more like black beans.

"You..."

The murky water on the table was gone.

Did he drink that filthy stuff?

"You idiot! Even if you're dying of thirst, how could you just drink that!?"

"I-I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠didn't drink it because I wanted to..."

Gronak continued, sounding wronged.

"At first, I wasn't gonna. The color was off, and the smell too. But then, suddenly, it started smelling sweet. Yeah, it looked just like beer, and I couldn't hold back anymore..."

Chase bit his lip.

To lose his sight, of all things, at this critical juncture.

There were mountains of places left to explore.

Not just to reach the next zone.

Even buying an escape scroll from the merchant required sight.

Blind, he couldn't even read that damn merchant's note.

They hadn't fully grasped this place yet.

For smooth exploration, they had to labor a set time each day.

Skipping it without coins meant severe pain—or possibly death.

"Sorry. I came to help, but I'm just getting in the way..."

Chase pressed his forehead.

His head throbbed.

It was hard to blame it all on Gronak's mistake.

This shitty dungeon dragged explorers into despair at the slightest lapse.

They'd survived unscathed so far not through skill.

Just luck.

If they'd loitered in the hall at first.

If they'd kept staring at the merchant like Gronak.

If they hadn't labored,

any could have led to death.

All by the skin of their teeth.

And.

'Forget raiding—we never should have come.'

If it was anyone's error,

it was his own carelessness in bringing his friend here.

If only he had his memories.

If this dungeon's danger and horror were etched into his soul.

He wouldn't have dragged his friend here for such a flimsy reason.

Could Gronak's eyes return to normal?

What if it stayed like this even after escaping?

"......"

If so, not just life as a ranger,

but everyday living would be a struggle.

Guilt surged.

The one who should apologize wasn't Gronak.

It was him.

"There has to be a way. Once we're out, it's on me. Hang in there a bit."

"Got it..."

Chase took a deep breath and sorted his thoughts.

For now, think optimistically.

He'd been fine when he exited before.

So escape the dungeon, and it should revert.

The issue was from here on.

Busy noises from the hall meant morning—goblin labor time.

There was a way for Gronak to skip labor.

Go outside the cave.

Goblins couldn't exit at night.

Meaning, no labor needed,

just step out in the evening—no beatings.

Stay in the room?

Outside was iffy.

Goblins sniffed them out and acted familiar.

Ignore them? Probably bad instincts.

No choice.

Test it out.

Chase waited an hour in the room with Gronak.

Thankfully, no burly goblins kicked the door open.

He had reason.

He'd seen non-laboring goblins getting pummeled yesterday.

No oversight during labor hours, it seemed.

Chase led Gronak cautiously to the second floor.

No goblins in the hall.

Not none, just occasional slackers—no reactions.

"Rooms seem safe. If we head out a bit before inspection time and hide, we might skip labor..."

Chase connected comms.

Guided Gronak slowly into a room.

"I'll signal. Can you slip out alone?"

"...I'll manage."

Chase nodded and shut the door.

Undeniably the best option.

He had to explore solo anyway.

The escape scroll was with the merchant.

What's the connection?

Pure hypothesis, but.

The merchant took payment for goods.

Food and water cost eight front teeth.

Chase thought:

If he took teeth from the corpses in the morgue,

and offered them to the merchant, maybe it'd substitute.

To test, open the morgue.

Need key; investigation essential.

'Off to work. Gather sweet fruits, eat some, then investigate... Throat's dry, wet it with that room drink...'

Chase halted.

What am I thinking?

Come to think of it.

One oddity.

Since waking today, no stench at all.

The smell he'd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠never adapted to suddenly didn't register.

Not mere acclimation.

Chase checked a hall mirror.

Expression stiff, eyes, nose, mouth normal.

But.

One decisive difference from usual.

His skin tone.

Something off.

Not hallucinating—face was green.

Not just that.

Nails longer, face slimmer.

Less dwarf, more goblin.