It changed again.
Overnight, the Sein Dungeon had undergone yet another bizarre mutation—its layout shifting like some restless, dreaming beast.
Such frequency was unheard of.
A chill crept into Stella's chest. Every instinct told her to turn back, to get as far from this cursed dungeon as possible and never return.
But she couldn't.
Her team had accepted the Count's commission. Abandoning it now would shatter their reputation. In the adventuring world, that kind of failure left scars deeper than wounds.
At minimum, half her party would need to die before the Count would accept their retreat as "honorable."
She exchanged a glance with Gibbs. He understood immediately and gave a single, grim nod.
"Why are we still here? This place reeks!"
A young man in a flamboyant coat stepped forward, a lace handkerchief pressed to his nose. He wrinkled it in disgust.
"Feel free to leave if you wish, Mr. Vilde," Stella replied without looking at him.
Vilde Bedford—the Count's second son—had no real combat ability. His one redeeming skill was his uncanny knack for identifying ores, rivaling that of veteran researchers.
"That won't do," he said, puffing up his chest. "I promised the ladies back home some spoils of war." His bravado wilted the moment his gaze fell on his fashionable boots, now soaked in swamp water.
"Enough, Vilde," a deep voice rumbled. "You insisted on coming."
A tall, broad-shouldered man stepped in, placing a meaty hand on Vilde's shoulder. The young noble shrank instantly.
"B-Big brother Charon…"
Charon Bedford, the Count's eldest son and likely heir, smiled warmly at Stella. "We'll be relying on you for this expedition, beautiful lady. If danger strikes, please see to the safety of the non-combatants in the rear. I can handle myself."
Unlike the merchants in his lineage, Charon had favored the sword. Rumor claimed he had once joined a gold-ranked adventuring party—only to be expelled for lack of strength.
Their group now consisted of Stella's four-person team, the Bedford brothers, and a small retinue of researchers: mineralogists, cartographers, alchemists. The Count had assembled them to quickly assess the value of the dungeon's new form.
"Be careful," Stella said. Then, to the party's mage: "Ellie, mid-tier Poison Resistance on everyone. The swamp air is toxic."
"On it." Ellie's hands glowed, the spell washing over them in a faint shimmer. Even so, buffing ten people at once made her shoulders sag.
Stella pointed through the fog to a black fortress rising from the swamp's heart. "That's our destination."
Gibbs took point. Dany, their shadow-skimmer, scouted ahead. Stella and Ellie guarded the rear, the researchers and nobles sandwiched between them.
The swamp fought them with every step. Boots sank deep into sucking mud, waterlogged holes yawned beneath the surface, and each squelch sent flecks of foul sludge splattering up their legs. Every so often, something soft and wriggling brushed against skin—a sensation that made more than one researcher gag.
Maggots.
Pale, plump, and clinging.
It wasn't just a physical obstacle—it was a mental siege. Already, two members had emptied their stomachs from disgust.
This was Wade's design—overwhelm the senses, sap willpower, and bleed stamina with every step.
Even with poison resistance, the swamp's toxins crept in. Every so often they paused to down antidotes, the bitter taste a small mercy compared to the air they breathed.
Still, the real cause of their sluggish pace was Stella's team.
"No movement within fifty meters," Dany called back. "Proceed with caution."
"No goblins in the trees," Ellie added.
"That boulder's clear too," Gibbs said. "Weird… no ambush?"
Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.—they inspected every rock, tree, and shadow. Their last expedition here had been a nightmare, and they refused to let history repeat.
But ironically, the monsters this time came charging openly, no tricks or traps—falling one after another with ease.
Naturally, the complaints began.
"At this turtle pace, we won't see half the dungeon before nightfall," Vilde grumbled. "At least show me a Blood Crystal! Or any mineral worth my time!"
"This place is dangerous," Ellie said patiently. "Last time—"
"That's why you're here!" Vilde cut her off. "Your job is to handle the danger! We've wasted enough time crawling along when the monsters are just stupid brutes charging at us!"
Stella didn't bother arguing. "Mr. Vilde, you're welcome to lead the way."
He snorted. "You think I'm stupid? I'm staying right here in the safest spot."
He had just moved beside her when—
SPLASH!
A skeletal horror erupted from the swamp, clutching him in a death-grip. Thick sludge coated him from head to toe. Some even got into his mouth. Maggots squirmed gleefully through his perfectly styled hair.
"Aaaah! Get it off me!"
Thwip—an arrow struck the skeleton's skull. Gibbs followed with a sword swing, shattering it to pieces.
"You did that on purpose!" Vilde sputtered, flinging mud.
"My mistake," Gibbs said evenly. "Didn't expect one hiding there."
"Don't think I'll believe you just because you look like a trustworthy potato!"
Before he could rant further, Charon clapped him on the head. "Enough. You're the one slowing us down now."
"But—"
"Complain again and I'll tell Father."
That shut him up. Muttering, Vilde slunk back into formation.
"Apologies for him," Charon told Stella. "He's been spoiled since childhood."
Stella gave a brief nod. Charon seemed convinced they'd let the monster through to teach his brother a lesson.
In truth…
I missed that one. How embarrassing.
Her cheeks heated, though the swamp's gloom hid it well.
"I found this in the skull," the chubby man researcher said, holding up a filthy scrap of cloth. "It reads: 'To enter the fortress, ignite the three beacons.'"
Stella took it. "There's a map, too… though it's little more than doodles."
"I can read it," the cartographer volunteered.
"Really?"
He pointed to the crude markings. "Here's our route so far. These jagged lines are rock formations. That irregular mound is the hill up ahead. And this blot? Likely the fortress."
He explained in smooth, confident detail.
"Impressive," Ellie murmured.
"Hah! That's the quality my family hires!" Vilde declared, smugness restored.
Following the cartographer's lead, they reached a raised hill topped with a dark beacon tower.
"I'll go first," Gibbs said, shield raised. The narrow path forced them into single file.
A few steps in—clang! A spear struck his shield, sparks flying. Gibbs caught it, yanked hard, and cut down the attacker—a hulking goblin.
[Large Goblin (Spear)]
[Energy Required: 10]
[HP: E | Strength: E+ | Intelligence: F+ | Endurance: D | Speed: E]
[Combat Power: E]
Two more spears came flying, followed by four vine-limbed monsters leaping from the bushes.
[Scarecrow]
[Energy Required: 6]
[HP: F | Strength: F+ | Intelligence: F+ | Endurance: F | Speed: E]
[Combat Power: F+]
"Low-tier Fireball!" Ellie's spell burst, scorching the vines. Arrows followed, dropping the goblins. Gibbs pressed forward, Dany appearing at his side like a shadow come to life.
The skirmish ended quickly.
With a roar, orange fire burst from the beacon, smoke curling into the damp air.
"Well done." Stella smiled—then froze.
A presence. Cold. Malicious.
She turned.
In the distance, two enormous eyes broke the swamp's surface, locking onto her.
She didn't recognize the creature. But something deep in her gut told her it was dangerous.
[Basilisk]
[Energy Required: 25]
[HP: E | Strength: E | Intelligence: E | Endurance: E | Speed: D]
[Combat Power: E]
Its unimpressive stats meant nothing.
Not with monsters like this.
(*****)
If you'd like to read 20 chapters ahead, please consider joining my Patreon: patreon.com/ANeet. Your support means a lot. Thank you!