On the short trek from the asphalted road to the start of the forest, neither Franco nor I spoke. The moment we crossed the invisible threshold separating the dungeon’s premises from the world, we both knew, with the ambient mana and anathema’s saturation rising like it only did in the monster-inhabited territories.

Wordlessly, Franco moved ahead of me, assuming a forward position as was standard practice when warriors and knights delved with mages; the close-quarter specialists—warriors and knights—confronted the monsters from the front and up close, while the ranged attackers did so from the back of the formation.

To better respond to the threat monsters in the dungeon posed, I removed the lid I normally kept over my less conventional abilities. The vision I had of the world changed almost immediately, with the greatest of the changes being mana and anathema becoming visible to my eyes.

“Ready?” Franco asked without turning back.

“Ready,” I told him.

Franco moved forward, and I followed close behind. Having already been here together, each of us had a vague idea of where we should go and where we should not. We navigated the sea of trees with purpose, trying to steer clear of the central zone of the dungeon, which was inhabited by numerous B-ranked monsters and even a few A-ranked ones.

The further we moved in, the greater the beauty of the dungeon was, as what had started as a normal forest turned into an impressive maze of trees as tall as skyscrapers and with trunks wide enough to need over twenty people to hug. The trees, which had once been conifers of some kind, had now changed to resemble a mix between sequoias and olive trees, with bodies looking similar to knotted stretches of rope and their once sloping crows replaced by enormous twisting and rich branches that stretched over the entire forest, not unlike the claws of some unseen beast. Despite the brown and green net the trees wove, the forest was far from dark, though, as the same foliage that blocked the sunrays also shone with a light emerald luster of its own, which bathed the ground in pastel tones.

The greatest impediment caused by the trees, besides blocking my and Franco’s line of sight, was caused by their massive roots; veritable walls of wood, which had to be either jumped or circled, leaving us relatively vulnerable to ambushes.

Fifteen minutes after we entered the dungeon, Franco spotted our first monster of the day. He crouched down beside the largest root we had found thus far, a snaking behemoth of moss and wood, gesturing for me to follow.

“Over there,” he said as I crouched beside him, pointing at the monster right ahead of us.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

It was a lindworm—a quadruped wing-less dragon sharing commonalities with the dragons of both the western and eastern mythologies.

The lindworm was covered in green and brown scales, which made it difficult to spot over the bark it laid upon despite its impressive size. From tail to tip, I guessed measured well over six meters, and in height, when it stood, I imagined it breached the three. Its head was massive too, with it being as big as my torso, maybe even more. What truly got my attention, however, were its limbs. I could see they were ripped with muscles, and all, even the tail, were armed with sharp recurve claws.

“I’ll fight it alone,” Franco told me out of the blue.

“Are you sure?” I asked, looking at the thick fangs jutting out of the monster’s mouth. “It looks dangerous.”

“Yeah, no problem. I can feel it being at rank D. I solo rank C monsters all the time.”

Franco didn’t wait for me to answer; he rose to his feet and started channeling prana—the energy knights used to empower themselves—throughout his body. I watched as he even started absorbing mana from the atmosphere, which his body naturally converted first to qi—the energy warriors harnessed—and then to prana to increase his reserves.

The lindworm sprung to its feet as soon as the ambient mana was affected, the process alerting it of someone or something potentially dangerous being in its surroundings. Its slitted yellow eyes quickly homed in on Franco, to whom it growled menacingly, ready to lash out.

Franco was unaffected by the creature's threats. His body became a maelstrom of golden power as prana enhanced it beyond human limits. Mud exploded as he shot forward, appearing right in front of the lindworm with a second explosion of soil, fist already posed to strike.

Franco launched a right reverse to the lindworm, right were a person’s suprasternal notch—were the right and left collarbones met—was. The metal knuckledusters hammered down on the scales like a meteor, accompanied by the sonorous crunch of bones being broken and a shower of scales flying through the air.

The monster, despite having its chest caved in, wasn’t about to die just yet, and in a vengeful frenzy, it tried to clamp down on Franco’s head with its jaws. Franco wasn’t done either, however, and, while bringing his right fist back to his body, he pivoted on his left foot in a whirl, laying a devastating left hook on the monster’s chin. The impact was such that the lower half of the monster’s head turned to mush, while the upper half rotated full three-hundred-sixty degrees, collapsing to the ground soon after.

“Tough one,” Franco said, rubbing his left wrist. “Almost broke my wrist.”

“I think when Mr. Porto told you to train in bare hand combat, he didn’t mean for you to be punching ton-heavy monsters,” I helpfully suggested him.

Franco shrugged. “It happens,” he told me with all the serenity of someone talking about the weather. He then crouched to the ground before ripping the decimated monster’s abdomen open.

“Looking for the core?” I asked, already knowing he would find one from the tight cluster of anathema I could see within the body.

Franco nodded, forcing his arm through the still warm entrails, making me recoil.

“You do remember I can dissect the body without having to do… that, right?”

“Stop. Please. Just stop.”

“Doing what?” I asked.

“Ruining my fun,” he said, forearm still squirming inside the creature. “That is the reason why all girls in class keep you at arm’s length. You are a party pooper.”

“How is me being a party pooper and you rummaging through viscera related?”

“Found it!” Franco exclaimed, ripping his arm out and sending a shower of blood and squishy bits flying each and every way. Fortunately, I was prepared for it, having previously materialized a mana barrier between him and I. Needless to say, Franco wasn’t that fortunate—or maybe he was considering his peculiar notion of ‘fun’.

Franco quickly rubbed the bloody core on his filth-coated armor, creating another large red splatter before putting it in his satchel.

“Are you sure your guildmates won’t get mad?” I asked, pointedly looking at the largest of the stains—the one he had just created to clean the core.

Franco looked down at it and shrugged. “Nah, there was this one time…”