Arelia Dungeon, First Sunday, Mot Month, Kingheart III Year.

To the South of a town, there was a dungeon lying underground, abandoned for centuries by an ancient royal family. Majorly made of rocks, the remnants of the historical castle had turned into a residence for horrendous creatures in the land. They fought with claws and teeth, seized their own territories, and killed any intruders.

The strongest beings inhabited the deepest chambers and posed a threat to every living overground. Fortunately, they rarely left the lair since there were a lot of preys available at the same depth. Because each organism was a living calamity, their appearance was an omen for the global destruction.

Therefore, it was essential that skilled combatants checked out these supreme beings regularly.

In the end, a council of capable individuals founded Adventurer Association to supervise the monsters and monitor the adventurers’ activities.

Adventurer Association also collaborated with other associations to benefit from the filthy creatures.

The adventurers got paid going down the dungeon and slaying the monster, suppressing their population growth. Later, they could sell their loots to Merchant Association for an extra reward.

The monster loots served as material in forging and crafting, or social supplies. Thus, this industry played an important role in the common life of the civilian.

Since it was an occupation with huge potentials, lots of people dreamed of popularity and gold, risking their lives amidst the monster’s fangs. The most famous ones among them were treated like nobility, or even more, they were considered heroes. They were mankind’s last hope to oppose the world destroyers.

Misfortunate, it was “Dream of an adventurer” for a reason.

Most of them, especially the hasty ones, perished at the early stage of their exploration. Very few of them took extra caution when facing the monsters, however weak they seemed.

Adventurer Association had to establish Quest Hierarchy to alert the quest’s difficulty. Yet the casualty rate didn’t drop at all.

Squeezing more rules into the existing ones was going to drive skillful warriors away from the Adventurer Association. The similarity was witnessed in other associations as well.

Therefore, instead of promulgating more laws to restrict reckless moves, they encouraged the adventurers to form a party. By working together, they reduced the risk and increased the spoils.

A successful group certainly was going to be renowned, keep growing, and form a long-term party, a guild. The outstanding guilds might receive some envious privileges from the nobility to keep them around the kingdom.

Truth to be told, the presence of capable parties was significant for the development of a region. A well-known merchant guild should draw more customers to the settlement while a top-ranked adventurer guild should bring more merchandise resources.

Of course, there were people working all by themselves, for many reasons. Several individuals really stood out and were comparable to the popular guilds in the same field.

They were scarce, but existent.

An exceptional adventurer could solely handle an entire floor of a dungeon, a smart merchant could make trade worth a fortune, and a masterful blacksmith could forge one of the most powerful blades ever.

However, even a great one must take the first step of a newbie. Whether that one could survive until achieving the goal was hard to answer.

Bearing ambition to become a legendary blacksmith of all time, Floger Grimwok prowled among the stony tunnels for easy prey. Resembling a sixteen-year-old boy, he lurked between boulders to hide his spiky silver hair from the monsters.

His slender body allowed him to sneak into cracked walls, although he was wearing metallic armor. While his chest, shoulders, and forearms were protected with metal plates, the rest were covered with lamellar. Thus Floger could maneuver in the dungeon with sufficient protection.

His eyes glowed red like a torch glimmered in the cold, dark cavern. The young one ventured deep down to Floor-15 with high hope of finding scarce materials.

By collecting raw material by himself, he saved a huge expense and made a larger profit, with a higher chance to be killed, of course.

Floger strove to avoid confronting the beasts directly, diminishing the danger. By understanding the terrains and the monsters, the blacksmith was able to venture as safely as possible.

However, despite all his vigilance, Floger was here, surrounded by three giant centipedes.

They were all red, black-legged, and five meters long. Their bodies were reinforced with rectangular scales, so thick that they would parry a sword. And their mandibles were too lethal for any chest plate.

Their creaks sent a chill through Floger’s spine, as if a sharp blade was stroking his back.

They weren’t the highest leveled around. However, their nasty poison, dripping alongside their mandibles, turned them into the deadliest before Floor-20. More dangerously, the centipedes liked to strike from the victim’s blind spot with fatal accuracy.

The first time the blacksmith encountered these creatures while travelling with two adventurers, one person died.

A giant centipede bolted at a man in the group from behind. The explorer dodged the jaws, but not before they left a scratch on his shoulder. When Floger and the other tried to drag the victim away, his flesh melted, and his arm fell off.

The scene never stopped haunting Floger. It never stopped reminding of how thin the line between life and death was.

After some fatal conflicts, he learned to use their tactic against them.

His breathing and heart rate dropped, his back leaned against a large black rock, and his eyes were fixed on the monsters through a pair of glasses. The blacksmith’s petrified posture fooled the centipedes for ten minutes.

At the moment the centipedes were about to give up the hunt, an axe flew to the nearest one, slashing through the armored head. The creature slumped against the stone floor. Dead by a critical hit.

Crimson Centipede – Level 15 has been slain

You have earned 342 XP and 1 EP

[Surprise Shot] has 11/15 PP left

One down, but he wasn’t too happy, as the other two then became more aggressive.

In the creaking tunnels, alongside the two Crimson Centipedes agitating, three more appeared from nowhere.

“Not good. Why are there so many of them at the same time?”

Sweats dripping on his forehead, Floger had to reconsider his options between fighting and turning tail.

Floger could handle three of them, but not five. He pictured him wrapped up with hundred legs, and shivered like a rabbit. And when the image of him being stabbed was disturbing.

Besides the suspicious number of Crimson Centipedes hunting together, Floger had detected some bizarre activities of other monsters since last month.

His enemies became more violent, their attacks were more unpredictable, and their population grew absurdly.

In a common situation, the monsters operating near the dungeon entrance tended to avoid people, unlike those from floors below. However, there were reports about monsters on Floor-1 targeting the travelers outside.

Truth to be told, because of such circumstances, many adventurer guilds had increased their operation in Arelia Dungeon. The raids, logically, should have decreased the quantity of the beasts accommodating in the area.

Yet Floger found his journey in the dungeon tougher than ever, putting him on extra caution. He never wanted to be cornered by the monsters unless he was an elite warrior. Even if he was high-leveled, nothing could guarantee his life.

*Centipede creaking*

The sharp stone piles broke and fell from the ceiling as the centipedes passed, perforating the floor surface.

It was a warning.

The blacksmith was in great danger.

Better flee to live than fight to die.

He received the advice when he chose this risky path to prosperity. Thanks to those clever words, he survived while the others died. Floger understood for those who follow in his footsteps, but they didn't take him seriously.

The illusion “If that boy can do it, I can do it too” had blinded many blacksmiths. They didn't realize that a commoner venturing to a dungeon meant dancing on the brink of death.

It wasn’t his fault, but many people blamed him for their beloved ones’ demise. Unfair, but sadly true.

At sixteen, he was all alone in this unfriendly world, facing all such cruel blames by himself.

What did he do to deserve a false accusation?

For acting like a smart boy and dragging everyone into danger?

He didn’t entice anyone to come along.

He didn’t seek anyone to help him.

He didn’t intentionally tell anyone about his journey.

Yet plenty of irrational people, family members, and friends of the dead vented their anguish upon the boy. For years, the young forger had to bear the disgusted eyes of his neighbors.

In the end, none of those mattered. He would continue his job the way he had been doing for years.

Feeling unsafe from the situation, Floger surrendered his raid today and returned.

He let out a sigh and turned to a fracture on the wall. A glister caught his eyes.

A blue crystal, twice his palm, was peeping next to a crawling Crimson Centipede.

“The Mana Core…” Floger muttered.

Because monster’s corpse always vanished after death, Mana Core was the most, and only valuable item of a monster. It was lying there in front of Floger, larger than any Mana Core he had collected in his entire career.

That size made him hesitate.

His hands were shaking, eyes focusing on the crystal, and his heart drumming.

He was wavering between picking up that gem and leaving it. Between risk and safety.

The monsters were rampaging and more might come in an instance.

He must hasten.

Within seconds, Floger pulled out a metallic sphere from a leather pouch behind his belt and threw it down the end of the tunnel. It exploded with a flash and reverberative noise, drawing attention from five centipedes, and perhaps other explorers.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Immediately the hundred-legged beasts rushed to the source of light and sound, and Floger sneaked behind them. Once he successfully claimed the Mana Core, his intuition alerted him to a spooky feeling from behind.

Floger turned his head around and found out that his plan wasn't going too well. The monsters returned before the explosives effect wore out, catching him in the middle of the cave.

“SHEEET!”

And then he ran, because his life now depended on his feet.

*Centipede creaking*

Predators did not let their prey escape easily.

Their speed was unbelievable for ground-sniffing creatures. Despite Floger's distinctive parkour on undulating terrain filled with rocks and animal carcasses, his 'fans' chased him fiercely.

He was frantically searching for something, anything, in his old pouch to elude the pursuers. When the silver-haired boy almost made it to the stairway leading to the upper level, he could feel a slash grazing his neck.

“AH YES!” Floger shouted with a violet vial in hand, but soon frowned.

If he had more time, he was more than happy to find another measure.

He didn’t have even a second.

Floger smashed the vial on the floor. Purple smoke burst out, liquifying everything it touched, stones, bones, and the Crimson Centipedes. It killed not only the creatures but also corroded their corpse, leaving nothing to loot.

The fear for a collapse crossed Floger’s mind. He just had to live with it.

Worse yet, the place was distorted and filled with poisonous gas. The air would take hours to be safely breathable. It was because of him that other adventurers were unable to enter this Floor.

At least, Floger survived.

Yet, as he sighed in relief after jumping out of the frying pan, he was into the fire.

“Step aside, dude.”

Six adventurers were approaching the doorway that Floger just exited.

There were four men and two women, armed with melee and ranged weapons, heavy and light armors. These people were an experienced party with a standard balance in both offense and defense.

According to his experience, such people often displayed contempt toward the weaker, such as Floger Grimwok.

Still…

“WAIT!” Floger spread his arms and blocked the path, panting. “Poisonous gas is killing everything down there.”

“What?”

“Eeeh?”

“Poisonous gas? From what monster?”

“Don’t know. Just got here.” Floger lied, of course.

The incident would delay their raid by several hours. Displeasing news. The blacksmith would be in huge trouble if they knew the truth.

Lucky for him, he was a good liar, an expert, actually. His hand didn’t shiver, eyes didn’t widen, and by presenting an innocent face, the blacksmith left no suspicion.

A guy scouted ahead and confirmed Floger's words. Nothing survived from the purple smoke, even hard rocks, forcing everyone to retreat with utmost disappointment.

Of course, Floger departed right away, no intention to stay around in case they discovered the poison causes.

“Hey!”

His heart almost jumped out of his chest when heard the call.

“You looked familiar.” The bulky man with a large shield and heavy armor asked.

His face was full of scars and burns, looking scary but glorious.

Observing Floger carefully, the female with a staff yelled, “Yes it’s you. You’re Mind Zero!”

The black witch’s hat covered half her face but she sounded joyful.

“Mind Zero?” The other woman with a bow was clueless.

“It’s the nickname of this young blacksmith, given to him because of his reckless journey to the dungeon to collect materials.” A boy in studded armor, armed with a buckler and a broadsword, explained.

“My my. I’m flattered that you know of me.”

“Ah. I’ve heard stories.” The archeress recalled the rumors. “They say you’re gifted… but also cursed.”

Her words blurred Floger’s mind with a cloud of unhappiness, yet no one else could tell.

“So, where do you come from?” Floger distracted the coincident companions. “I don’t remember seeing you guys in the town.”

Afore all else, the female archer, proudly and loudly, asserted, “We are from Bahamur City. We are Moonlit Black Cats.”

Until now, Floger realized that the symbol on their chest resembled a cat encircling its body with its tail.

“Sorry. Never heard.” Floger shrugged.

“WHAT? But we are popular!” The girl immediately argued. “Everyone in Bahamur City and surrounding ares knows of us.”

Her comrades had to bury their faces in their palms after hearing such words from the witch.

Without letting his member embarrass their image any further, the man with a spear spoke up. “Please pardon us, Blacksmith Floger.”

And the last one, with twin blades on his back, reprimanded, “Katrina. Bahamur City is a couple of thousand kilometers away from this town.”

“AND…” the big guy interfered. “Our guild’s major operation is up North. This is our first trip to the South.”

“Sorry…” The archeress’ ears drooped like a scolded puppy.

“Ah please. Don’t be harsh on her.” Floger quickly interceded. “Your guild sounds great, actually. Are you hanging around for long?”

“Yeah! Our place is getting crowded so we emigrate,” the bow wearer said.

“Since we’ve heard Arelia Dungeon is quite active, we probably will settle here for long,” the dual sword-bearer continued.

Good news, indeed.

The presence of a competent guild, the first one in town, was exciting. Despite many adventurers beforehand, they were all in low rank. The strongest only reached level 25.

Higher-level adventurers only stopped by to examine the top-tiered slumbering beasts then left within a day. With that being said, the ordinary combatants in Arelia Town were just stronger than a commoner.

They usually earned enough around Floor-20, so why risking their lives going deeper?

“Nice. Very nice indeed.” Floger uttered. “My name is Floger Grimwok. Please check out my workshop some time.”

“But of course. Ha ha.” The heavily armored man laughed. “We intended to visit your shop after today’s raid.”

“Since we have nothing left to do in the dungeon. Why don’t we just head to your place, Floger?” The twin blades wearer suggested.

“Impeccable!”

Customers with deep pockets are always welcomed in his shop.

“Great. Ah yes. My name is Katrina Lorance, as you’ve heard.” The archeress made a V-shape with her fingers and tilted her head.

“Rete Dain.” The bulky man grinned.

“I’m Chris Holland.” The spearman didn’t wear a helmet like Rete, thus his short brown hair and a gentle smile divulged under the glimmering torch.

“I am Lina Boleva.” The mage took a light bow.

Her grin and redhead shone through the darkroom and relieved Floger’s stress for a moment. A beautiful girl.

“He he! I’m Niel Calapra.” The smallest guy kept his sword and buckler on his left arm while introducing himself with a chuckle.

His blonde swung as his head moved, sparkling like gold dust.

Finally, it was the one with the dual swords. “I’m the guildmaster, Leon Orlando.” His smile bloomed with confidence. A genuine leader.

“All right. I think we should leave.” Floger said as the purple gas was peeping at the doorway.

He didn’t believe that it was going to spread farther. But better safe and sorry.

On the way out, Floger had been scrutinizing the new acquaintance’s equipment. And the discovery was quite absurd.

Long black hair, purple mage robe, and a velvet witch hat. Lina gave an impression of a regular young spellcaster. Her age might be the same as Floger. However, her scepter was made of a branch of a magical tree called Frosty Oak, found uniquely in the forsaken frozen land at the North pole.

As for Rete, he was a full grown man. He had brown plates for armor, leaving very few weak spots. Combining with the giant shield, he surely could take a few hits for his teammates. A great tanker. The material must be taken from Hymilian Scorpions, a level 50 monster. And his one-handed hammer sparked dim, but real, lightning bolts.

Contrarily, Katrina looked frail and vulnerable. But Floger could tell that her turquoise shirt and lace-up ankle pants were heavily enchanted with agility magic. The archeress must be scarily fast in battles. Her curve bow was formidable because of the ingenious amalgamation of magical wood and monster’s horn. They served various purposes, regardless of explosion or penetration.

The shortest person, as young as Floger, didn’t look excellent. Niel’s childish behavior might fool his opponents and catch them off guard. Yet, the blacksmith having met enough swordsmen to assure that Niel was a true intimidator. A monster in the shape of a cheerful boy with pretty golden hair.

The next person appeared older than the rest, veteran and clever. Chris Holland seemed pushing his forty-five, but his muscles were still bulging under the dark lamellar armor. However, the silver-haired boy only lost his mind once stared at the spear. Ice Giant’s bone constituted the pole and Frost Wyvern’s fang, the spearhead. Even a legendary hero couldn’t acquire a better weapon.

And as Floger turned to Leon, his instinct raised an alert.

The guildmaster had secrets. Floger was certain since he couldn’t read anything from Leon besides an unshakable belief in himself. More worrisome, his equipment was far inferior to that of the members.

“Nonsense.”

The ability to conceal his true nature was the scariest instinct of a warrior. The blacksmith must be cautious.

The seven of them had a peaceful journey back to the surface, exchanging words while passing through several battles. Albeit Floger was worried, the entire guild simply didn't care. As long as they didn't interfere, adventurers rarely went to war with each other underground.

Wise people knew best to take their problems outside the dungeon. They are walking in the lair of monsters with countless spawns.

The mystery about the monster’s proliferation had remained unsolved for centuries. If a dungeon was left unchecked, the monsters would brim out the lair, and it would be a tragedy if there were any civilizations in the neighborhood.

There were also magical beasts outside the dungeon, yet their behaviors weren’t always ferocious toward humans, sometimes friendly. They weren’t as many as those in the dungeon.

Whereas the monsters underground spawned spontaneous, those above followed the natural reproduction procedure, creating the greatest puzzle in history.

The scholars proposed countless theories, yet very few sounded practical.

What should these two kinds of monster be called? What were the similarities and dissimilarities?

These mysterious creatures brought serious headaches to the people with great minds.

In the end, everyone came to an agreement.

The beings spawning in the dungeon should be called ‘monsters’ whereas those outside ‘magical beasts’. Based on some distinctive signatures, people could distinguish monsters and magical beasts easily. Another point, only monster had Mana Core, whereas magical beast’s corpse remained after death. Unless they were scavenged by other beasts.

Floger once tried to find an answer about the monster’s respawn while creeping amidst the channels in the dungeon, but found only disappointment. There was no nest, no queen, no spawning device, nothing.

They always crawled out of a dark corner after a certain period, varying between the floors. The lower Floor the adventurers got down, the fewer number they encountered, but much stronger.

Speaking of the devil, the group bumped into a pack of Giant Moles on Floor-7.

The terrain had changed from hard rock to soft soil, dark stone to bright moss. The humidity also increased significantly, fresher air, and wetter ground. It was easy to slip and stumble, becoming vulnerable to opportunistic beings.

“These guys are usually level 7 to 9, but never alone,” Floger recalled.

He searched and reached for a throwing axe in his pouch. Ready to fight.

“Needle Viper, level 11, loves to strike from our back,” Niel said.

Surprised at first, but as expected. The guild’s renown reverberated the Northern zone of the kingdom for a reason.

Finally, someone noticed minor details that could determine life and death while dealing with the monsters.

This was the difference between those in high and low ranks.

*Giant Moles squeaking*

Ten moles, all atrocious and furry. Floger was never a fan of rats as he remembered stomping one under his feet, accidentally. The sticky and slimy feeling came back and made him nauseous.

These giants were worse.

He could only wish this fight end soon.

Quick and clean.

The rodents charged, baring their weapons, and reeked. The front teeth were the size of a human’s hand, whilst the claws were longer than Floger’s forearm. The shaggy fur offered little protection, but Giant Moles were incredibly mobile underground. Too fast to be caught.

Suddenly, Floger remembered something.

“MIND YOUR FOOT!” The blacksmith screamed.

In the past, Floger had his feet grabbed from below and pulled down by a Giant Mole. It anchored him long enough for another to snap his head off. Luckily, he went with some companions and survived. Yet the terror never stopped lingering him.

Floger jumped as he felt vibration beneath, but no one else did. They simply smiled instead.

“JUM-“

Afore Floger’s second warning, Rete had already slammed his hammer on the floor, puncturing a seemingly worthless hole.

However, the moist soil was perfect for electric transmission. His weapon shocked everything underneath their feet to death, with no resistance.

The execution stunned Floger for a second. As a magical armory specialist, he had learned that elemental power unleashed by a mage was far exceeding that by a weapon. Afore Floger’s second warning, Rete had already slammed his hammer on the floor, puncturing a seemingly worthless hole.

However, the moist soil was perfect for electric transmission. His weapon shocked everything underneath their feet to death. No resistance.

The execution stunned Floger for a second. As a magical weaponry specialist, he had learned that elemental power unleashed by a mage was far exceeding that by a weapon.

“Unless it’s STAB.”

All beings, regardless of species, were born with one or two elemental types flowing in their veins. If an individual used magic with the same elemental type of that one had, the Attack would be doubled.

It was called STAB, same-type attack bonus.

Rete’s flashing hammer reminded Floger of a mythological weapon, but instantly he shook it out of his mind.

“Totally impossible.”

While the forger’s mind was still jumbling, Moonlit Black Cats had eliminated the other Giant Moles. Cat vs Mouse was never a fight, even if only Niel stepped out to handle them.

Needle Viper was absent, saving them extra work.

After the extermination, those who didn’t fight collected Mana Cores scattering around. No one bothered those buried underground.

“Let’s go, buddy.” The swordsman swung his arm, calling the overthinking blacksmith.

The childish voice awoke Floger from his messy thought.

“Ah yes. Let’s get out of here.” Floger quickly gathered his sense and started moving.

“So tell me, why do you wear glasses?” Lina paced ahead and pointed at Floger’s glasses. “Are you short sighted?”

Lina showed worry and curiosity. For someone with poor sight, wandering among the walls full of monster was far too dangerous.

“Magical glasses? Seeing monster’s abilities? Seeing monster’s level?” Katrina guessed.

“I’ve got bad eyesight. They’re helpful.” Brief reply, since he perceived the insecurity about his item.

“What? It’s absolutely unsafe for you to be down here.” Lina didn’t pay attention to her loud voice. “What if you drop them?”

“So, basically, you can’t see things without them?” Katrina’s curiosity, or her foolishness, seemed limitless.

“I can, but it’s blurry.” Floger answered with an absolute calm. “And don’t worry, Lina. They’re enchanted to stay on my face until I intentionally take them off.”

“You guys are strong, really.” The blacksmith brought up a different matter to distract the girls.

Rete laughed right away. “Ha ha ha. The moles are fragile, like glass.” His dramatic voice echoed among the walls.

“Are you on any quests at the moment? Besides the one down Floor-15?”

“Argh!!!” Niel wailed.

His noise confused Floger. It should be yes or no, simple.

Lina scratched her head in embarrassment. “We only accepted an A-Rank quest but can’t proceed because of the lethal gas.”

“So-rry-“ Floger changed his original words instantaneously, “-to hear that.”

“Bad move!”

Even though Floger believed in his reaction speed, he glimpsed the others, but detected nothing.

Furthermore, Niel’s response assuaged him. “Nah, it’s nothing. We can come back tomorrow.”

“Good luck then,” Floger said, adjusting his glasses.

“Aren’t you coming?” Niel got surprised.

“Niel. He’s a blacksmith, remember?” Leon knocked on Niel’s head as a reminder. “He had better things to do in his smithy than risking his life in the dungeon every day.”

"You seem to know the blacksmiths. I only come here to collect raw materials once or twice a month." Floger said.

A disappointing groan echoed in the cavern, but everyone could only laugh.

When the party saw the sunlight and finally breathed the fresh air, they all released a big sigh, exhaling all the anxiety accumulating in the cavern.

Getting out of a dark place always relieve no matter how many times people came in and out. Adventurer or merchant, human nature never changed.