The deeper they traveled, the more the forest revealed its true form—ancient, wild, and breathing with its own soul.
Mist curled low along the ground like serpents of vapor, cool against their skin but warm where the light of the sun, filtered through dense layers of enchanted foliage, reached them.
Giant trees with bark the color of silver-veined obsidian loomed on either side, their roots rising like petrified waves. Strange flora pulsed with internal bioluminescence: blossoms that sang when touched by wind, fruits that glimmered softly in hues unseen by mundane eyes.
Above, the sky had disappeared. All that remained was a web of living branches—some moving slowly, not from breeze, but from a faint consciousness that clung to them.
One tree bore glowing runes in patterns like constellations, and though none could read the script, they all paused to admire it with quiet reverence.
Waterfalls of glowing blue mana poured from cracks in sheer cliffs, cascading into pools that rippled with mirror-like clarity. The liquid mana gave off a hum—neither song nor vibration, but something in-between—that resonated with the bones.
As they drank from one, a brief warmth filled their limbs, and their senses sharpened, as though the forest itself had acknowledged their presence and extended a wary greeting.
Progress through the dense wilderness should have been arduous. And it was—at least, in appearance.
The terrain was treacherous, the air thick with mana that could strain the lungs of ordinary people, and beasts lurked within the shadows of stone arches and under the roots of impossibly tall trees.
But for this party—Alaric, Cellione, Serineth, and Aurevia—the path was steady.
Alaric, a seemingly unassuming boy, guided them with divine awareness. His senses stretched beyond sight or sound, feeling disturbances in the ambient mana like ripples in a pond.
With him channeling Divine Energy into their bodies from afar, Cellione and Serineth never faltered, even as they spent hours maintaining barriers, tracing illusion wards, or clearing the occasional hostile fauna.
Their mana and aura reserves, refined over the past weeks under Alaric's guidance, now danced in harmony—an endless wellspring compared to others of their rank. What would have taken days for other adventurers took mere hours for them, though they never rushed.
A sense of respect had taken hold.
For though the forest had not stopped them, it watched them.
And then, like a veil being drawn back, the scenery changed.
The trees began to grow sparse, the air suddenly cold. The sunlight did not break through here—not for miles. A ravine opened before them, winding deep into the earth. Stones black as midnight and veined with crimson light formed the jagged cliff walls. Faint whispers drifted from the chasm, though there was no wind.
They had arrived.
Nestled at the bottom of the ravine was a structure that defied conventional architecture. Not built, but grown—emerging from the rock like a jagged, twisted root. Its shape was too smooth to be carved, too alien to be natural.
Thorn-like spires curled around the entrance, which was shaped like a vast, vertical eye, sealed shut with a translucent barrier of pale violet.
The air around it thrummed.
No inscription, no signage, no seal of man or god.
Just pressure—like standing beneath an ocean.
"The barrier..."
Cellione murmured, her voice small beneath the weight of it all.
"That's no formation. It's… part of the world."
Alaric nodded, gaze sharp but serene.
"Law-woven. The world itself recognizes this place as forbidden."
Serineth's fingers hovered near her dagger.
"It's beautiful… and terrifying."
Aurevia narrowed her eyes at the entrance.
"It's holding something inside."
Indeed, the barrier was not meant to keep them out.
It was a cage—subtle yet absolute. Designed not by man, but by nature responding to something that never should have existed.
They stood in silence, the breath of the forest hushed behind them, the heartbeat of something ancient pulsing ahead.
The dungeon had no name.
No record.
No conquerors.
Just presence.
They had found it.
And it had noticed them.
***
Alaric stood before the entrance, the air thick with an unnatural stillness. The world around him felt too quiet—as if the land itself was holding its breath.
The jungle-like wilderness of the Inner Forest had given way to a stark, chilling silence. The vibrant, bioluminescent foliage was replaced by jagged stone formations, veined with cracks that pulsed faintly with crimson light.
The once-vibrant energy of the forest now seemed dimmed, swallowed by an eerie presence that clung to the air.
The entrance to the dungeon was like a living wound carved into the earth—a vast, vertical eye, its edges jagged yet somehow smooth, as though the stone had been twisted into shape by an unseen force.
The eye-shaped aperture loomed before them, its surface shimmering with a translucent, pale violet barrier that undulated like the surface of water disturbed by a breeze.
But there was no wind here.
The barrier hummed with a quiet intensity—almost alive. The faint, spectral glow of it washed over Alaric's face as he stepped closer, an oppressive weight settling on his chest, making it hard to breathe.
It wasn't the barrier that he feared, but what it was protecting—what was sealed behind the very fabric of this ancient structure. Something dangerous. Something forbidden.
Alaric's hand hovered near the barrier, fingers twitching. He could feel the subtle pull of the world's law, woven into every thread of the place. It was an energy that responded to intention, to will.
This was no ordinary dungeon—it had grown here, birthed from the earth and the will of Elarion itself to cage something that should never have been free. Something that could, if unleashed, unravel the fabric of this world.
Alaric's golden eyes narrowed, gazing into the chasm beyond the eye-shaped entrance. There was a faint shimmer deep within the darkness, a pulse of light that flickered, like an eye blinking in the dark.
His heart skipped a beat, though his expression remained serene—too serene for someone so young, and yet the weight of his past life's memories pressed upon him with quiet authority.
"This is no ordinary dungeon,"
Cellione whispered, her voice hushed as she stepped beside him, her hand still on the hilt of her sword.
"It feels... wrong. As if the world itself doesn't want us here."
The others lingered behind, the tension in the air growing thick around them. Serineth, who had always been the most vocal, now stood with her hand on her dagger, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Aurevia, too, seemed unsettled, her usually sharp eyes dulled by the overwhelming presence of the place.
Alaric breathed in deeply, the chill of the dungeon sinking into his bones. Despite the serenity that came with his divine nature, something about the place unsettled him.
It was like standing on the edge of a precipice, looking into an abyss that could swallow him whole. Yet there was a strange, irresistible pull as well.
It called to him.
He extended his palm toward the barrier, his fingers brushing against the translucent surface. The moment he made contact, the air seemed to shift.
A low, resonant hum filled the space—rising like a tide, filling the silence with a strange, throbbing rhythm.
The world itself recognized him.
He was not supposed to be here, but the laws of the world bent, responding to his presence—not out of favor, but out of necessity. There was a deep, ancient bond between him and this place, though its origin remained a mystery.
The divine power within him, as young as it was, resonated with the dungeon's law-woven essence. The pulse of the barrier flickered, then weakened, just enough for Alaric to feel it.
It was almost as if the dungeon knew—knew that the one standing before it was not a mere wanderer. He was something more.
The pulse of the barrier slowed, but it didn't vanish. It remained a constant hum in the air, a reminder of the dungeon's purpose.
Alaric withdrew his hand, his gaze unwavering as he looked into the blackness beyond. "It's waiting," he murmured, more to himself than to anyone else.
"Not to keep us out... but to see if we're worthy of entering."
He could feel the eyes of his companions on him—feeling the silent question in their gaze. What lay beyond? What was this place truly hiding? Was it a test? A trial? Or something far more sinister?
The pulse in the air quickened again, like the heartbeat of the dungeon itself, as if to answer him. And then, without any sound or warning, the barrier shuddered and dissolved—vanishing into nothingness as if it had never existed at all.
The entrance opened fully, an invitation.
But not to anyone. Only to those who could endure the weight of what lay inside.
Alaric, despite the sense of foreboding that wrapped itself around his chest, took the first step into the dungeon. His young form barely made a sound as he descended into the blackness, leaving the others no choice but to follow.
Behind them, the eye-shaped entrance closed once again, a final, silent seal—a reminder that once you entered, there was no returning until you had faced what lay at the heart of this place.
*****
✢═─༻༺═✢═─༻༺═✢
✶ I Reincarnated as an Extra ✶
✧ in a Reverse Harem World ✧
⊱ Eternal_Void_ ⊰
✢═─༻༺═✢═─༻༺═✢
*****
The moment they stepped through the dungeon's jagged entrance, the world changed.
It was as if the air itself turned hostile—thick, poisoned with malice. Every breath tasted faintly of ash and rot. Darkness swallowed them immediately, oppressive and greedy, broken only by the faint, pulsing gold that emanated from Alaric.
Even that light seemed reluctant to shine too far here, as though the dungeon resisted the touch of anything divine.
Demonic energy choked the air like invisible fog, crawling across the skin, seeping toward the soul. It whispered vile things—temptations and madness, desires not born of the self. Even for the strongest among them, it took only moments to feel its weight.
Aurevia's hand gripped her weapon tighter. Cellione's brows furrowed. Serineth shivered faintly, lips parting in a silent exhale.
Then, the corruption struck.
From deeper within the shadows, several figures emerged—not humans, not demons, but corrupted beasts. Hulking things with warped limbs and howling maws, covered in patches of black, twisted hide.
Their eyes burned red with fury and madness. They were all [Rank-3]—early stage, but unstable and made more dangerous by the demonic energy flooding their veins.
They roared in unison and charged, mouths open wide enough to bite a man in half.
The girls instinctively fell into formation, but even as they raised their weapons, the corruption tried to seep into them—tendrils of dark energy attempting to latch onto their hearts, their thoughts, their very wills.
But just before it could root itself…
Alaric raised his hand.
He didn't shout. He didn't chant. He simply willed it.
Light blossomed.
Warm, radiant, and pure—it swept through the air like a divine tide, reaching out to each of the girls and gently anchoring to them. Their bodies glowed with soft halos, a golden barrier wrapping around their hearts and repelling the corruption like fire rejects the cold.
The shift was instant.
Their eyes cleared. Their movements sharpened. Their auras pulsed with clarity and strength.
Within seconds, the corrupted beasts lay slain—cut down cleanly and without hesitation. Their bodies evaporated into black mist, screeching as they disintegrated.
But none of them cheered.
They stood still, gazes sweeping the space around them. And what they saw stole their breath.
The dungeon… was not a corridor or a tunnel. It was a world.
The space had opened without warning—no transition, no barrier. Just vastness.
They were standing in the center of an enormous subterranean cavern, so large the roof above was a distant suggestion, blurred by floating particles of crimson mist and shifting shadows.
Great stone columns, the size of towers, rose toward the unseen ceiling. Lakes of black water shimmered faintly across the distance. Strange flora, glowing faintly with demonic hues, clung to the walls.
The monsters they had just fought were only the beginning.
"This…"
Aurevia muttered under her breath, eyes scanning the impossible scale.
"This isn't natural."
"It's spatial expansion,"
Serineth murmured.
"We crossed a threshold without knowing it. The space inside… it's been folded. It's dozens—no, hundreds—of times larger than the exterior should allow."
The girls looked to Alaric, who had not spoken. His expression was unreadable, golden eyes reflecting the flickering shadows of the unnatural cave.
"We can't stop here,"
He said softly.
"It's only going to get harder."
And it did.
As they moved deeper, another battle came—this time, a pack of ten monsters, all [Rank-3], with strength ranging from early to mid-tier. Their formation was tight. Their aggression—controlled. These beasts were no longer mindless. They were hunters.
Still, the group had grown used to fighting as one. Aurevia's blade struck like lightning, her aura surging to match even the strongest foes.
Serineth's magic carved radiant paths through the dark, while Cellione darted between enemies, eyes glowing with precision.
Alaric didn't fight directly, but his mana fed them all. A steady, divine stream. Like a sun behind the clouds, unseen but felt. Because of that alone, they triumphed again.
But the dungeon would not yield so easily.
A third wave came—not just more monsters, but a formation.
A coordinated pack of high-tier beasts emerged, led by a hulking abomination. Its body was nearly three times the height of a man. Spines jutted from its back like spears, and its eyes were filled not with rage, but cruel intelligence.
A [Peak-Rank-3] monster.
And the others, eight in total, were mid-to-high [Rank-3].
The girls formed a defensive stance, their auras flaring to meet the coming threat. But even before the first blow landed, it was clear—they were at a disadvantage.
This time, they might not win.
Alaric watched for a second longer.
Then, he moved.
His hand lifted again—but this time, the power he called forth wasn't simply a protective blessing.
It was a divine command.
Gold light surged from his small frame, brighter than ever before. The dungeon recoiled. The demonic energy screamed.
And the girls… changed.
Aurevia's aura exploded, leaping past the bounds of [Rank-3] and hurtling into [Peak-Rank-4]. Her eyes glowed like stars. Her sword radiated with such force that the air hissed around it.
Cellione and Serineth felt their cores blaze. Their magic surged past the barrier of the [2n-Circle]—catapulting them to [Peak-3rd-Circle] mages in a heartbeat.
Their minds expanded with it, as if they were seeing the battlefield for the first time through god-touched eyes.
They didn't speak. They couldn't.
They simply moved.
The battle ended in less than three minutes.
When it was over, the cavern was silent, save for the faint dripping of corrupted water echoing in the distance.
The girls turned to Alaric, shock written plainly across their faces. What he had done—what they had just experienced—was something no mage, no priest, no king had ever dreamed of.
To ascend an entire rank. In a moment. At the will of a five-year-old child.
But before they could ask—
"We can talk about this later,"
Alaric said softly, stepping past them.
"Let's finish this first. I'll keep the blessing up… until it's over."
They didn't argue.
They couldn't.
Because they had seen it now—what he truly was. Not just a child. Not just a prodigy.
Something other. Something holy.
They walked on.
And then, at last—they reached the Boss Room Door.
It did not resemble a door so much as a seal—a divine wound stitched shut with nightmare.
A towering structure of obsidian, the surface of it pulsing like a heart left beating under the skin. Symbols older than any language slithered across the frame.
The air here was heavy—not just thick, but wrong, like it belonged to a different world entirely.
At the center of the gate: the Eye.
Black, lidless, and eternal.
It did not blink. It did not move.
But it saw them.
And it waited.
-To Be Continued