Slipping the ring onto his finger and wrapping the blanket around his shoulders like a makeshift cloak, James felt a sense of belonging that he hadn't felt since entering this dark place. It was as though, for the first time, he was preparing for a journey, an adventure that had purpose. These items didn’t just feel like tools—they were symbols, evidence that he could belong in this world. He wasn't just a lost boy anymore; he was an adventurer now, someone with a mission. He wasn't only surviving; he was moving forward. With a determined breath, he grabbed the lantern, stood up, and gripped the trident tightly in his other hand. He tucked the quill snugly into a small crevice within the lantern's structure where it fit perfectly, like it was meant to be there. It gave him a sense of organization, as if he was piecing together what he needed for the road ahead.
James paused, his body teetering between action and rest. The exhaustion weighed heavily on him, urging him to stay, to wait—perhaps whoever had helped him would return. Yet there was another feeling—one deeper and more relentless—that gnawed at him, pulling him up onto his feet. He had to move. Joey. Joey was the reason he had fought this hard, the reason he was still here. Joey needed him, and every second spent waiting was a second that Joey might be in danger. He couldn't waste another moment. He owed Joey that much.
The thought sent a surge of adrenaline coursing through his aching muscles, driving him forward. He glanced down at the lantern, noticing the faint pulse within it, a rhythm that seemed to mirror his own heartbeat. He wasn't going to take his chances in the water again. The lake held too many secrets, too much uncertainty, and he didn't have the strength for that now. Instead, he'd follow wherever the lantern guided him.
James tried various ways of positioning the lantern, hoping to free both his hands for wielding the trident properly. He twisted, strapped, and shifted, but the weight of both items made it impossible to carry comfortably. The trident, already unwieldy in the best of circumstances, became even more cumbersome. Realizing that he was fighting a losing battle, James sighed and resigned himself to the fact that if he encountered any enemies, he would need to drop the lantern to be able to fight effectively. He didn’t like it, but it was better than struggling clumsily with both and losing his life.
A huff of annoyance escaped his lips as he powered the lantern again, watching as its beam of light sliced through the shadows, illuminating the entrance where he had previously been attacked. The narrow beam moved with a purpose, leading him back the way he had come. James swallowed his anxiety. Was the lantern guiding him towards something important, or leading him straight into danger? There weren’t many choices, and hesitation wouldn’t help. He steeled his heart, took a deep breath, and pressed forward, the echoes of his footsteps swallowed by the darkness.
The rest had done wonders for his body. His dreams had been chaotic and restless, but his muscles, which had once screamed with every movement, now only whispered their discomfort. The sharp, debilitating pain had dulled to a more manageable ache, and with every step, his confidence grew. He wasn’t at full strength—far from it—but he felt stronger, more capable, and more determined than he had when he had first stumbled upon this dark, unknown world.
His footsteps echoed through the cavern, each one more assured than the last. As he approached the entrance, he took extra care, sweeping the lantern’s beam into every crevice, particularly those above him. His caution proved to be wise. A sudden flash of movement caught his eye—a creature, bat-like but larger, about the size of a small dog, clung to the ceiling. The light startled it, and it screeched in panic, the sound reverberating sharply off the cavern’s walls. Its wings flapped erratically as it tried to escape the light, clearly disoriented and struggling to maintain balance.
James felt a jolt of adrenaline spike through his veins. The creature was vulnerable, its flight pattern erratic, making it an easy target. He tracked it with the light, watching as it tumbled, lost its grip, and smashed into the stone wall before tumbling to the ground, landing just a few paces away. It was his chance. James lunged forward, mana flooding into his trident, and activated {Trident Power Thrust}. He drove the weapon into the creature, his precision unwavering, ending its life before it even had a chance to recover.
A prompt flashed before his eyes, the reward almost comically grand for how easy the encounter had been:
{Level Seven Dark Hauntling Defeated - Kill}
{Bonus EXP for fighting an enemy higher level than you}
{172 EXP Awarded}
{Congratulations! From your efforts, you are rewarded}
{Flavored Coffee Beans (Ashen)}
James blinked, a grin spreading across his face. That was... easy. Almost disappointingly so. It was strange to think that just a short time ago, these creatures were the very thing that had nearly killed him, and now, he had dispatched one with almost no effort. He almost laughed. They were ambush predators, he realized, reliant on darkness and surprise. The lantern’s light had stripped them of their primary advantage, rendering them weak and disoriented. He looked down at his still-tender shoulder, the reminder of their danger. The light made all the difference.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
He leaned down to pick up the small pouch that had materialized where the hauntling had fallen. Opening it, he was greeted by an unexpected yet comforting aroma—a rich, earthy scent with a hint of sweetness. Coffee beans. James let out a startled chuckle. After everything he'd endured, after all the pain and fear, the universe had decided to reward him with coffee beans. He inhaled deeply, savoring the familiar scent. Nostalgia washed over him, pulling him back to simpler times. He took a moment to relish the smell before deciding it was time to move on. He needed to return to what he had come to think of as the main cavern—the place where he had first woken up. That was his base for now.
He moved cautiously, each of his senses on high alert for any threats lurking in the shadows. Once he reached the safety of the main cavern, he allowed himself a moment to sit down and take stock of his situation. He was close to leveling up, and he wanted to do that in a safe place, away from potential threats. Settling down by the shore, he opened his status, the familiar interface comforting in its clarity.
Name - Jameson Castellio Age - 10 Titles - | Dungeon Marauder (Crimson) |
| Convergent Soul (Crimson) |
| Mana Harmonization (Cobalt) | Achievements - First Kill Race - Human (Ashen Rank One) Level - 4 (297/338) Class - N/A
HP -
565/615 MP - 320/465 Stamina - 327/615 Strength -
8
Dexterity - 8 Agility - 7 Intelligence - 13 Endurance - 21 Charisma - 5 Wisdom - 12 Fate - 13 Innate skill Level 1
******
Level 50 Locked Level 100 Locked Active Skills
| Trident Power Thrust (Ashen Rank Three) |
| Swimming (Ashen Rank One) |
| Meditation (Ashen Rank three) |
| Essence Sight (Saffron Rank Three) |
| Battle Strategy (Saffron Rank One) |
- Essence Inspect (Saffron Rank Two)
Passive Skills | Trident Proficiency (Ashen Rank Seven)| Affinities ********
James stared at the status screen, the numbers confirming what he already knew—he was close. So close. A mix of anticipation and impatience bubbled within him. The creatures in this place were stronger than him, but he had grown as well. His titles, his skills—they had all contributed to his survival, had made him capable of standing his ground. Compared to the terrified boy who had stumbled into this dungeon, he felt like a different person. Confidence surged within him. If he could push a little further, level up just once more, he would be in a better position. He knew it.
He turned his attention back to the small pouch of coffee beans, curiosity mingling with nostalgia. He opened the pouch again, inhaling deeply, allowing the scent to calm his racing mind. The rich, earthy aroma carried hints of something sweet—vanilla, perhaps. Unable to resist, he pulled out a single bean and inspected it closely. It seemed harmless enough. He popped it into his mouth and bit down, only to immediately regret the decision. The bitterness overwhelmed his taste buds, causing him to grimace. He spat the bean out, rubbing his tongue with his fingers to get rid of the taste.
“Yeah, that was a mistake,” he muttered to himself, scooping up water from the cavern's edge to swish his mouth out. He drank deeply, savoring the cool relief. The beans were fascinating, though. What exactly could they do? He activated {Essence Inspect}, eager to learn more about his peculiar reward.
- Vanilla Flavored Coffee Beans (Ashen)
- Beans grown in the temperate climate of the southern Bandalis Tribe, famed for their coffee. The vanilla flavoring is infused with mana from the start of the growing season, giving depth and a lightness to it that is unparalleled in the region.
- Steep in water to give a minor mental cognitive boost for a few hours before experiencing a moderate crash.
- "Hot bean soup taste good" - A barbarian wanderer sharing a pot of coffee with the tribesmen.
James couldn’t help but laugh. It really was just a bag of beans—albeit a magical one. After everything he had faced—salamanders, hauntlings, the darkness, the cold uncertainty—he had been rewarded with flavored coffee beans. Somehow, it made him feel... normal. Like there was more to this world than just survival. There was still joy to be found, even if it was in something as simple as a bag of beans.
He examined the pouch. It was a decent size, maybe a pound or two of beans—definitely too many to carry. His pockets were already shredded, and there was no practical way to hold onto the beans without sacrificing something else. He sighed. He didn’t want to leave them behind, but he also couldn’t risk overburdening himself.
After a moment of contemplation, he looked around and decided to leave the pouch by the shore. Maybe he’d return for them later if he had the chance. A chuckle escaped him, unbidden. It felt strange to leave something behind in this place, hoping it would still be there when he came back—much like the lantern and other items that he had initially woken up with. Perhaps fate would be kind to him, or maybe someone else would stumble upon them and enjoy the small comfort they provided. Either way, James felt ready. He had rested, he had gathered himself, and now it was time to move forward, to face whatever lay ahead with the newfound strength and purpose he carried—both inside and out.