Avince took a deep breath as he finally had the chance to sit down and catch up on what he’d missed in his studies. He knew he’d been falling behind, especially in History, and Initially, Avince had dismissed the class as basic; after all, they’d already studied history before. Who didn’t know how dungeons appeared or how people awakened their abilities? But as the lessons went on, Professor Carlson’s classes began to reveal a depth he hadn’t anticipated.
He retrieved his history textbook and course notes, flipping through to the most recent topics he’d missed. One section caught his eye: “The Conquest of the Abyssal Mirage – Most Fatal Dungeon Run in Recorded History.” He remembered Professor Carlson briefly mentioning this before he’d missed class, but the details were blurry. Avince leaned in, his interest piqued as he read the chapter's title. An underwater dungeon in the middle of a desert? He knew dungeons could sometimes warp reality, but this was extreme even by those standards.
Avince settled in, his focus sharpening as he began to read.
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When dungeons first began appearing, they were both a source of terror and fascination. Over time, people had categorized them, classifying the types by elemental affinity, structure, and the kinds of monsters they harbored. As Avince read on, he realized how much more there was to the subject beyond his general knowledge. He’d assumed everyone knew the basics — how dungeons spawned monsters, how abilities awakened in response, and how humanity adapted to the threat. But the curriculum at college took a different approach, diving into history’s most infamous dungeon expeditions and the tragic tolls they’d taken on teams of adventurers.
The Abyssal Mirage was one such dungeon, infamous not only for its deceptive appearance but for the sheer number of lives it claimed. Located in the heart of the Haraz Desert, it seemed nothing more than a shimmering mirage in the sand. But the dungeon itself, once entered, was a sprawling, suffocating underwater realm — a lethal twist for any team unprepared for aquatic conditions.
Avince’s pulse quickened as he read further. The numbers were staggering: 143 lives lost, 18 teams completely wiped out, all because they hadn’t been prepared for the dungeon’s unexpected nature.
The first team to enter had assumed the dungeon would reflect the environment it was found in. They’d braved the heat and dust, only to step into a landscape of coral reefs, towering kelp forests, and a chilling expanse of deep water. The dungeon’s elemental nature clashed cruelly with the desert’s arid conditions, and the abrupt shift had left many adventurers gasping, literally, as they drowned within minutes of entry. The first wave of teams barely made it past the entrance. Those who tried to swim through the maze of reefs faced powerful currents, hostile sea monsters, and, worst of all, an ever-dwindling supply of air.
Each team carried a special recording artifact, required for delving into unknown and unmapped dungeons. These devices captured everything they did within the dungeon, ensuring that if they failed, their actions could guide the next team.
After an earlier team’s unsuccessful attempt to conquer the dungeon, these recordings became invaluable, offering insights into where and why the previous team faltered and allowing new teams to learn and refine their strategies based on past missteps.
“Most didn’t even make it to the boss,” Avince muttered, reading with a mix of horror and fascination.
The book went on to describe the desperate attempts of subsequent teams. Equipped with all kinds of tools, they ventured in, hoping to map the dungeon and find any breathable areas. But the dungeon was unrelenting. Even experienced adventurers, many of whom had conquered dungeons across the continent, were taken by surprise, underestimating the level of aquatic combat required. The lack of preparation, combined with their unfamiliarity with underwater fighting, led to an unprecedented loss of life.
The dungeon remained undefeated until an S-rank team — known as the Silver Melody— accepted the mission. Comprised of seasoned adventurers, they entered with only a cautious sense of confidence. Even they had miscalculated. None of their members, save for the mage, were trained for sustained underwater breathing. The team’s mage, however, is good enough in his mana to control and create an air pocket, a bubble large enough for the team to move through in short bursts.
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As Avince read, he tried to imagine the scene. A team of elite S-rankers, floating in an ethereal bubble of air in the heart of a desert dungeon turned into an ocean.
The mage’s air pocket allowed the team to proceed deeper into the dungeon than anyone before them, illuminating an intricate, beautiful undersea environment littered with the eerie remnants of those who had come before. Skulls, broken weapons, and armor fragments lay half-buried in the sand or tangled in seaweed. The dungeon monsters, sharks with a taste for mana, prowled the waters with merciless efficiency, sensing the adventurers’ presence and attacking in coordinated bursts.
As the team ventured further, the dungeon’s intensity continued to escalate. Avince read about how the Silver Melody had faced schools of aggressive mana-infused fish, serpentine eels with shocking electrical abilities, and the relentless cold of the dungeon’s depths. Even with the mage’s air pocket, they’d struggled to keep up the rhythm of fighting, retreating, and renewing their breath. The underwater environment meant they had to hold their breath, navigate alien terrain, and battle in an environment that felt foreign and suffocating.
Despite the harrowing conditions, the team managed to locate the dungeon boss — an upper D-rank monster that had claimed so many lives: a monstrous shark with water affinity the helped it swim faster than normal. The beast was massive, with jagged fins, piercing blue eyes, and rows of teeth that glistened dark red. It lurked in the shadows, its aura filling the water with an oppressive chill.
In the end, the Silver Melody managed to defeat the shark with a single punch from one of its members. The battle was surprisingly brief, ending almost as soon as it began when the member’s strike took down the shark instantly.; the boss’s strength lay not in its individual power but in the setting it dominated.
After the conquest, the team had returned to the surface, heralded as heroes. The dungeon, mapped and officially ranked, was now known to be an upper D-rank threat. Yet, its deceptively low rank masked a lethal danger that had caught even experienced teams off guard. The sheer mental toll on the families of the fallen, coupled with the shocking number of fatalities, sparked outrage among the public.
The pressure mounted as grieving families demanded answers, their voices joined by public outcry. Their anguish forced the Alliance, the governing body responsible for managing dungeons, to send in a specialized task force. This team wasn’t meant to conquer or map; their goal was far simpler and far more final: to destroy the dungeon core.
Unlike a typical team of dungeon clearers, the task force was equipped with rare, high-tier water-breathing gear, enchanted items resistant to crushing pressures, and powerful mana enhancements designed for deep underwater combat. It was a team assembled for a single purpose, with no intention of fighting the boss again.
They entered the Abyssal Mirage, descending to its depths. The remnants of mana from the previous battles lingered in the water, a haunting reminder of the lives lost. But this team worked with surgical precision, evading combat where possible and heading straight for the dungeon core. Once located, they performed the delicate ritual needed to collapse the dungeon’s structure, breaking down the core’s energy to sever its connection to the real world.
The account ended with a note of finality: the Abyssal Mirage was no more, its treacherous waters finally drained, and its horrors laid to rest. The task force returned, bearing the relief of a successful mission but also the weight of lost lives and lingering mysteries. Though the remains of the fallen were unrecoverable, they were honored, their names etched in dungeon lore as a solemn reminder of the risks in exploring the unknown.
Avince leaned back in his chair, exhaling deeply. The Abyssal Mirage was ranked as the deadliest D-rank dungeon in history, a paradox in itself — low in rank, yet unforgivingly lethal. He couldn’t shake the image of those teams, so confident as they entered, only to be taken by surprise and left to the merciless waters.
Experts who study dungeon phenomena suggested two possible explanations—and perhaps both played a role—in shaping the Abyssal Mirage’s underwater nature. One theory proposed that the dungeon was shaped by the intense desire of ancient inhabitants who longed for water, creating a deep-rooted longing that manifested as an aquatic environment. Alternatively, some speculated that the desert where the dungeon was found might have once been a part of the ocean, with lingering echoes of that watery past influencing the dungeon’s form.
He closed his textbook, musing over the unexpected lessons buried in his history class. Dungeons were more than just places to train or gather resources. They were living, breathing realms with personalities and quirks, each as unpredictable as the monsters they spawned. For those willing to enter, they offered unimaginable rewards — but always at a cost.