The first thing I felt was the sudden loss of my vision.
Everything went black. My balance faltered, and I staggered, disoriented.
…But it was only temporary.
When my sight returned, I stood in an unfamiliar place.
Towering stone pillars, jagged and weathered, stretched into a cavernous ceiling. The walls were uneven, dark moss clinging to the cracks. The air hung damp and cool, carrying an earthy scent. Soft glimmers of light danced off the moss-covered rocks, casting an eerie shimmer.
It was exactly as the novel described.
I had done it.
I had triggered the fortuitous encounter.
The being that guarded this blessing was eccentric—its conditions absurdly specific: The first condition was a spell "Rai'sheval… ommir ek'tahl." By chanting that spell Inhad nullify the defence system and by sacrificing my blood I manged to enter.
In the novel, that villain sacrifice rabibit and manage to enter here.
Absurd, yes.
But now it was mine.
My heart pounded—not from fear, but from exhilaration. I was here.
The hidden sanctum beneath the spring.
The place even the author barely touched on.
And now, I stood within it.
I stepped forward cautiously. Every footfall echoed softly through the cavern, like the walls were listening. The ground was smooth stone, etched with faded markings that pulsed faintly in rhythm with my breath—or maybe with something deeper. Something older.
I was walking in a myth.
No one else had made it here properly. Not in the canon timeline. The villain had stumbled in, triggered a half-awakening, and fled in terror after barely surviving the backlash. The readers never even saw the full potential of this place.
But I would.
'Thankfully, I was here alone. If Lena was here with me then everything would have been complicated.'
As soon as I thought that....
"…What is this?"
A voice—soft, clear, and far too familiar—sliced through my thoughts.
My head whipped around.
Lena.
Her raven-black hair clung to her face, damp from the mist. Her sharp eyes scanned the cavern with calm precision.
Why the hell was she here?
Had she been dragged in along with me? Or had she somehow followed me without me noticing?
I couldn't afford distractions. Not now.
"Lena?" I asked, my voice far too calm for the pounding in my chest. I forced myself to take a deep breath, pushing down the sense of unease crawling along my spine.
She turned to me, her brow furrowing slightly as she stepped toward me. "What happened? We were just at the spring, and then—" Her gaze flickered, scanning the cavern again. "Where are we?"
I could tell she didn't quite grasp what had just occurred. In her eyes, this was some bizarre, random event. But in mine, this was something far more dangerous. She shouldn't be here. I hadn't planned for her to be here.
I took a step back, trying to hide my growing frustration.
Before I could think, her gaze landed on me. She walked over, boots silent against the stone, no trace of suspicion in her expression.
"It looks like an undiscovered dungeon," she said evenly, still surveying the area. Then, with quiet concern, "This place could be dangerous. Stay close."
I stared, dumbfounded.
Any normal person—especially a Velcrest Academy professor—would've questioned the sudden teleportation. But not Lena. Her first instinct wasn't suspicion.
It was to protect me.
Her trust was almost unnerving.
"Y-Yeah…" I nodded, forcing my voice to tremble. "I think you're right."
I glanced around, feigning unease while inwardly cursing myself. I'd been so focused on the ritual that I hadn't considered someone else getting caught up in it. And of all people, Lena—the one person who'd ever shown me real kindness—was here.
This could still work, though.
I just had to be careful.
Lena moved ahead, scanning for threats. Her hand hovered near the wand at her side, a subtle sign she wasn't as relaxed as she seemed.
"Nothing's happened yet, but we can't let our guard down," she murmured.
A moment later, she glanced back with a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. I may not look it, but I'm an hero. I've been through worse."
That smile—it was calm, confident, utterly misplaced in this situation. And yet, it made my chest tighten.
She didn't understand.
She couldn't.
This wasn't a simple dungeon. This was the place—my moment. The event that would change everything. And she was standing in the middle of it, unknowingly disrupting the delicate script I'd followed to the letter.
I forced a smile back, pretending to draw comfort from her words. "Right… I'll stay close."
Lena nodded, her eyes flicking forward again. "Good. Keep your steps light. The floor looks unstable."
I followed behind her, my gaze darting between the rocky terrain and the faint glyphs carved into the pillars. I recognized them. We were getting close.
Too close.
The next phase would trigger the moment we crossed the boundary—a ring of old stone tiles etched in runes that shimmered faintly in the mist. I could already see it ahead, half-concealed beneath a curtain of moss and fallen rubble.
...And after that we will be surrounded by numerous monster.
I stole a glance at her, a chill creeping up my spine.
In this dungeon, weakness meant safety. The third-rate villain had slipped through because he was insignificant—no threat, no monsters. But someone like Lena? Her strength would wake the slumbering beasts.
They could appear any second.
Her smile returned, softer this time. "You look nervous. Since nothing's attacked yet, this doungen is nothing."
I forced a laugh, though it came out strained. "Yeah, well... you never know what's lurking in places like this."
Lena's eyes sparkled with something like excitement, or maybe challenge. "That's the fun part, isn't it?"
I swallowed hard, tightening my grip on the small dagger hidden beneath my cloak. Fun wasn't the word I'd use.
The air grew heavier as we stepped closer to the rune circle. The faint glow pulsed faster now, syncing with the faint rumble beneath our feet.
I could feel it—danger closing in, ancient and hungry.
Suddenly, a low growl echoed through the cavern.
Lena stiffened, hand already gripping her wand. "I told you. It's not safe."
From the shadows between the pillars, shapes began to stir—hulking forms covered in rough, mossy scales, eyes gleaming like coals.
Monsters.
Just like I feared.
"Stay behind me," she ordered, voice steady.
I obeyed, retreating a step as shadows slithered to life beyond the moss-veiled pillars.
They crawled from crevices in the stone, hunched and twitching—Skreeches.
Insectoid, with segmented limbs and chitinous shells that shimmered a sickly green beneath the cavern's light. Their faces were featureless but for slits that hissed out vapor, and needle-like mandibles clicked in erratic rhythm.
There were at least a dozen of them.
I recognized them instantly. Skreeches were territorial dungeon scavengers. Normally passive—until they sensed a strong threat.
Lena's Aura.
That was the problem.
She was powerful. Too powerful. Her presence was like ringing a dinner bell for every predatory thing hiding in these walls.
And then I saw it.
Lumbering behind the swarm came something far worse.
A Vylemaw—twice the size of a man, its sinewy body stitched with flesh that looked melted and reformed. Its six legs thudded against the stone, each step oozing dark fluid.
Its head was a mass of open maws, twitching tongues tasting the air, and its back quivered with parasites that dropped and scuttled across the floor.
No wonder the Skreeches followed it. They were its fodder.
Lena tensed beside me. "That thing's not part of any recorded taxonomy…" she muttered, more to herself. Then, louder: "Dont move. No matter what."
I scrambled back, but my mind raced.
This encounter wasn't supposed to happen.
In the novel, the villain walked through this hall untouched because the system ignored threats beneath a certain power threshold. It was a reward for mediocrity.
But Lena's existence broke the system.
She was too much. Too strong. Too noble.
And now the Vylemaw had sensed her.
It let out a screech that sent a pulse through the stone, making the pillars tremble.
Through the dim torchlight, the Vylemaw's multiple jaws snapped open and shut, a grotesque symphony of clicks and gurgles. Its dark, oily saliva dripped onto the floor, sizzling as it met the cold stone.
The Skreeches hissed in unison, tightening their formation around it like a swarm guarding a queen.
Lena's eyes sharpened. "Get ready. This isn't a fight we can just talk our way out of."
I swallowed the lump in my throat, gripping my dagger tighter. My mind scrambled for a plan—anything that might give us an edge.
But deep down, I knew: This was far beyond what I'd bargained for.
The rune circle ahead glowed brighter, pulsing like a heartbeat.
It was the threshold.
If we crossed it, the sanctum's full power would awaken.
But the monsters would become relentless.
At the moment, there only Twenty five Skreeches but that number who would continue to grow more and more.
Even seasoned heroes would struggle against that number if they weren't careful.
And the situation was worse because the A-rank hero beside me, Lena, was at a disadvantage here.
She was a close-combat specialist.
An absolute monster in one-on-one fights—a living weapon.
It would take her less than a second, literally, to crush a buffed-up Skreeches head with her bare hands.
But there is some that should be point out here.
Her overwhelming strength meant nothing in the face of sheer numbers.
Because Lena's weakness was crowd control.
No matter how skilled she was, she could only defend against so many attacks at once.
Her fists couldn't be everywhere.
And Skreeches, emboldened by their numbers and the Vylemaw's presence, surged forward like a tide of venomous green. Their mandibles clicked in frenzied anticipation as they closed the distance.
Lena's breath sharpened, her muscles coiling like a spring ready to snap.
"Stay close," she barked, eyes scanning for openings.
I didn't hesitate. I slipped deeper into the shadows, dagger poised, trying to think fast. The cavern's dim light barely revealed the chaos unfolding. Every step the monsters took seemed to shake the very air.
Kriieeek—!
A sudden, piercing shriek tore through the cave as one of the Skreeches lunged at me, its jagged teeth bared, aiming for my throat.
Its breath reeked of …of rot and iron.
I stumbled backward, heart hammering in my chest.
The Skreech was fast—but not faster than Lena.
A crack of wind burst past me. Her fist collided with the Skreech's head, sending a spray of dark, viscous blood spraying across the cavern floor. The creature crumpled instantly, twitching feebly before going still.
"Behind me!" Lena shouted, already pivoting to face the next wave.
The Skreeches didn't hesitate. They surged forward, a writhing mass of green shells and clicking mandibles. Their sheer numbers threatened to overwhelm, but Lena moved with terrifying precision, fists and feet striking down one monster after another.
Still, the tide never seemed to lessen. For every Skreech she felled, two more took its place, emerging from the shadows, drawn by the scent of battle.
I darted to Lena's side, dagger flashing. My role was clear—pick off any stragglers that slipped past her defenses, disrupt the monsters' formation, and buy her time.
The Vylemaw loomed behind the swarm, its grotesque form pulsing with a malevolent hunger. It took deliberate, crushing steps, each one shaking the cavern and sending shards of loose stone tumbling to the floor.
Then it roared—a guttural, bone-chilling sound that echoed like thunder.
Lena's eyes narrowed. "That's our cue," she growled.
She charged, fists blazing, drawing the bulk of the Skreeches away from me. The cavern became a blur of motion—claws snapping, fists pounding, and monsters falling in heaps.
They moved like a tide of limbs and mandibles, clambering over each other, shrieking in sync with the Vylemaw's pulse. Its massive body loomed in the back like a twisted conductor, orchestrating the chaos.
Lena didn't hesitate.
Her feet dug into the stone, and she launched forward with a roar, slamming her fist into the floor.
Boom—!
A shockwave rippled outward, sending half a dozen Skreeches flying. The force carved a crater beneath her, dust and debris flaring like a miniature explosion.
But they kept coming.
Claws scraped at her arms. Mandibles bit into her side. She bled—but she didn't fall.
Lena was fire wrapped in flesh.
Each strike she threw ended in splintered shells and shattered limbs. A Skreech leapt toward her neck—she ducked, caught it mid-air, and ripped it in half.
I watched, frozen.
Terrified.
Awestruck.
Her hand, now coated in blood, had cleaved through the Skreeches neck with a single fluid motion—using nothing but the sharp edge of her palm.
Her movements were swift and merciless.
The Skreeches hadn't even had the chance to scream.
I glanced at her, a bead of sweat trickling down my temple.
She stood with a casual ease, her expression unreadable, as though beheading a monster with her bare hands was the most natural thing in the world.
I exhaled sharply, but I didn't let my guard down.
That was just the first one.
And the remaining Skreeches were already closing in.
After all, death of their own kind doesn't matter to Skreeches.