Oliver's heart was still racing, but it wasn't fear anymore. It was excitement.
(…I can actually read this. Me. An F-rank "Linguist." This… this isn't useless at all.)
He wiped the sweat off his forehead and forced himself back on his feet, ignoring the dull throb of his broken arm. Adrenaline was pushing him now. He ran his hand along the cavern wall, eyes darting for more of those strange carvings.
Sure enough—another one.
A jagged rune glowed faintly as his fingers brushed across it. The meaning surfaced instantly in his mind:
[Collapse Trap]
"…Holy crap," Oliver muttered. He laughed—half out of relief, half out of disbelief. Samuel had mentioned during the briefing that this dungeon holds the legacy of lost runes, with entire institutions dedicating years to decipher them. And here he was, reading them like they were children's scribbles.
His grin widened. "This is it. This is my ticket."
