The forest was dark and green. The slim slivers of light that penetrated the thick canopies of the trees were barely enough to showcase the way Marcel was following. Despite the very accurate descriptions he had, he had misnavigated three times. It took him some tracking until he finally found his destination. The forest was growing

colder the deeper he went.

Marcel didn’t have many options. He had tried scouring the underparts of the city for rat infestations or other critters which clearing might give him some experience, but had not been crowned with much success.

For one, it was hard to even get into the sewers without any official quest giving him permission. That was simple to circumvent, but still a bother. An unnecessary one.

No, what was the bigger reason, was the fact that killing off vermin in the stinking underground didn’t really award him much experience anymore.

For a few days he had tried it, thinking it would be better than nothing. After those smell soaked days he hadn’t been awarded with even a single level though. So he was forced to set his sights on something higher. And he had just the thing for that.

He finally reached the gloomy cave. It had just appeared in the middle of the forest without warning .There was no mountain it was attached to. No small hill whose entrance it symbolized. No, it was simply a stone doorway filled by utter darkness, standing in the middle of a clearing.

There was an eerie air around the thing. The faint rustling of the leaves and the singing of the wind were simply gone the minute he stepped onto the clearing. Marcel took a few steps closer and could swear he felt the temperature drop.

It was all exactly like he had read about.

Shivers went down his spine. He thought about turning back. About just accepting back his old job, caring for the stables. Or maybe he could work as some barkeep somewhere. With his perception he could almost start in the gloomy tavern he had first met Marty. Only almost though.

Then the thrill of adventuring came back to Marcel. The surge of experience, the excitement of seeking out dangers to best them, and the friendly and cheering faces around him when he had beaten the ogre.

Nothing would ever get to the same level of satisfaction as that. He needed to continue.

Without thinking, afraid of hesitation, Marcel stepped into the darkness.

His whole world seemed to tip over. He lost all sense of direction, and a terrible, heavy pressure built in his stomach. It expanded until it felt like his whole body would burst.

There was a popping sound. Then Marcel landed on the floor, disoriented.

Everything around him was dark. He rummaged through his pockets for a moment before he found a lumistone. He withdrew the small rock, and channeled mana into it. A second later the soft blue light revealed ragged stone walls around Marcel.

He stood in a wide open cave. The ceiling was a little lower than Marcel was comfortable with, but otherwise everything was exactly as he had expected from a dungeon.

Everything other than the turbulence the transition had caused in his stomach. A quick wave of nausea forced Marcel to his knees. A short series of retching sounds, and a changing of the cave chambers later, Marcel started orienting himself again.

All his belongings were still there. A quick status check replied nothing out of the ordinary. The only thing that was added was a little line at the top of his menu screen.

“You entered a Dungeon. Time and Space Dilation effects might be in place. Proceed carefully.”

That was exactly the message Marcel had hoped for. He had read the centaur talking about dungeons in his diary. Apparently the monster had even spent some time in one of them once. He had described it as a somewhat pleasant employment.

For humans Dungeons were known as breeding grounds for monsters. Which made them important for various reasons. Partly they were very dangerous because of that. But also, for people like Marcel, they presented the perfect opportunity to level.

As an adventurer one was able to fight horde upon horde of monsters, throwing themselves at insurmountable risks and honing one's skills. They were the ideal place for leveling, but were usually not used for several reasons.

Usually Dungeons were not really accessible to the public, as they had a great danger of leaking, and required constant adventurer surveillance to be kept in check. This one though was relatively new supposedly. New enough that the guild hadn’t known about it yet. Marcel had checked on that.

And then there was again the fact, which couldn’t be understated, that visiting a dungeon meant risking one's life. And aristocratic adventurers didn’t really fancy risking their lives.

For Marcel this dungeon presented the perfect opportunity though. It wasn’t known to anyone else. It held very strong time dilation effects according to the centaur. And it should be filled to the brim with different foes for Marcel to test his might against.

And that was what he needed the most at the moment. It was his key to grow stronger.

Now that he stood in one of the entrance caves of the dungeon though, it felt somewhat empty. Empty and claustrophobic. Was this really the right place?

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Instead of wondering, Marcel began wandering.

The dark floors of the cave stretched endlessly before him. He rounded corner after corner, creeping along the long and narrow passages for hours upon hours. Marcel was beginning to wonder if he maybe had just stumbled into some kind of endless cave maze. Or if maybe, at one of the hundreds of junctures he had passed by now, he had taken the wrong route somewhere and was now running into the deep and empty paths of a cavern system.

But then things changed.

Out of nowhere a shriek echoed through the cavern. It was followed by hurried footsteps. They were quiet, and oddly reminiscent of the goblin footsteps Marcel had engraved in his memory from his attack on the camp. Only these felt smaller, more hurried, and a little more anxious even.

He whipped around and drew his weapon. His trident [Ancient Weapon of Suramar] hummed in his hands. It screamed for blood after weeks of not being used. And if he was totally honest to himself, which he rarely was, Marcel did too.

It was fair to say that both of them were somewhat surprised when what rounded the corner throughout the narrow tunnels wasn’t a flood of goblins like they had expected. Nor was it another bloodthirsty monster.

Instead it were half a dozen kobolds. These small reptilian beasts were barely as high as Marcel’s knee cap, their appearance was almost straight up copied out of the D&D books Marcel had read back in his world.

What wasn’t fully conveyed on those pages though, Marcel realized with a shock, was the hungry sharp teeth these beasts had. Nor their bone chilling shrieks. The beasts sped along when they saw Marcel, it was clear what they were here for.

The old Marcel would've run. No matter these beast sizes, they looked vicious. To be honest even the new Marcel debated turning on his heels for a second. But that thought was quickly squashed with the newfound confidence Marcel carried. He had killed far more fearsome foes by now, what was a handful of kobolds?

He charged forward and intercepted the kobolds. Marcel activated [Heightening], his [Spear Proficiency] was already running since he had picked up his weapon.

He impaled the first of the attackers before it even had a chance to reach him. The second and third fell in quick succession, making it only barely farther than their comrade.

More and more kobolds streamed out of the depths of the cave though. Throwing themselves against Marcel in an attempt to bury their claws and teeth into him.

Soon a dozen had fallen to Marcel. Then two dozen. He weaved between his assailants, evading their claws and countering by piercing their scales with precise thrusts of his trident. He was like a butcher, slaughtering them without any hesitation or remorse.

Meanwhile the stream of deadly reptiles still didn’t slow down. He was covered in blood and gore. After a certain point Marcel didn’t even know anymore where his body fluids started and theirs ended. He was starting to get tired. Marcel could feel the faint build up of lactic acid in his muscles, and could feel his reactions slowing down. It was only slightly, but even this faint difference could mean life or death.

He had held up on it on purpose until now, but it was time to grab a little deeper into his bag of tricks. Marcel had withheld them with the intention of leveling his [Spear Proficiency] and [heightening] skill on purpose. Even if they were his most advanced skills,they were also his most effective skills.

But there was no helping it.He didn’t know how many more of these kobolds there were. So Marcel activated [Water Tentacle]. Four razor sharp arms of water sprang up behind him, not waiting for a second they started impaling kobolds left and right.

The water tentacles surged forwards. One kobold was pierced through the chest while trying to sneak up from behind. Two other ones were slashed across the body in a wide swing, and even more fell to the repeating cascado of rapid attacks.

It didn’t take long for the tide to turn. There were almost uncountably many kobolds. Dozens upon dozens of them. And it took long for Marcel to deal with them when only using a single weapon.With his trident he was able to put one or two aside with one attack, then he was forced to retreat.

But now, he could fell four to five at once, hurting or maiming even more. The hordes slowly thinned. Marcel continued his dance. He pushed the tempo now. Trying to see how far he could push himself, how fast he and his tentacles could slay the little monsters.

Time turned into a blur. All that was there was the feeling of resistance giving in when his weapons sank into flesh. All that filled the cavern was the smell of blood and the death cries of his opponents. He didn’t think anymore. He just acted.

Marcel withdrew his trident from one kobold's chest. It sagged to the floor. No other kobold rushed in. Suddenly Marcel stood alone in the cave, towering above the mountains of dead bodies.

His breathing came raggard, and his lungs burned. There were blisters all over his hands from gripping his weapon, along with hundreds of small cuts and scratches from the battle. He stood there soaked in sweat, blood dripping down his whole body.

Marcel had no idea how much time had passed. One hour? He felt exhausted and tired, like he had just run a marathon. Had it been more than one hour?

His gaze passed over the corpses strewn around him. There were too many to count. Small lifeless bodies. In the dim light of his lumistone they almost looked peaceful, helpless in a way. Marcel still had the sharp memory of these things leaping at him, ready to tear out his throat and bathe in his blood. Still he felt wrong somehow. Sick even.

He stumbled away and slumped down against the cave wall. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to move again if he paused now, but he didn’t have much choice in the matter.

It took a few moments for his head to clear, and for Marcel to build up the courage to open his status screen. An onslaught of messages assaulted him immediately, kill notifications for every kobold he had slain. He skipped through all of them, not trying to dwell on them.

Finally there were six messages with somewhat more importance to him.

“Congratulations, you have reached level 13. Stat points have been awarded.”

“Congratulations, you have reached level 14. Stat points have been awarded.”

“Congratulations, you have raised your skill [Spear Proficiency] to level 20.”

“Congratulations, you have raised your skill [Heightening] to level 19.”

“Congratulations, you have raised your skill [Water Tentacle] to level 18.”

The first five were pretty normal. He had gained more xp than expected, but maybe that just undermined how long the fight had really been. It was the sixth message that was surprising though.

“Challenge of the Dungeon accepted. You have spilled the blood of the Dungeon, thereby accepting its trial. Means of exit have been blocked for you under conditions. The only way to leave the Dungeon will be through slaying the Dungeon Boss.”

“Good luck challenger.”

Immediately Marcel was ripped out of his half dozing state. Dungeon trial? He had heard of no such things before, and it certainly wasn’t what he had planned on doing.

It didn’t really make him worry much, as it played into his cards. There was something ominous about the messages phrasing, but Marcel hadn’t planned on leaving the dungeon without proper leveling anyways. Hearing that there was even a trial boss for him was just another opportunity.

At least that’s what he foolishly believed in the beginning.