Mithra ran desperately, scrambling to escape.

Ah, how could she possibly win?

Despite feeling braver after her reincarnation, her body only slightly stronger than average and her mind a bit sharper, she was still an ordinary person.

It was pure luck she’d managed to kill the first monster; it had jumped from above, giving her an opening.

But now, there were so many of them. Forget monsters—she’d be sweating buckets even against a pack of wild dogs.

She raced frantically through the tunnel, her clothes torn to shreds from repeated scuffles, leaving only scraps on her upper body and a pair of shorts barely clinging together.

Her body was covered in wounds—claw marks, bite marks, visible signs of her struggle.

The pain throbbed with each step, but Mithra forced herself to ignore it, focusing only on finding an escape.

She had been running so wildly that everything had blurred together; she didn’t even know where she was.

Desperate, she spotted a faint light in the distance and sprinted toward it.

Emerging from the tunnel, she found herself back on the wooden walkway above the piles of bodies.

“Damn it...” The sound of the monsters chasing her echoed behind. Seeing only one path forward, she didn’t hesitate and kept running.

Just then, a monstrous figure leaped from the tunnel’s darkness behind her. It collided with Mithra for an instant before plummeting from the walkway’s edge.

She glanced back, muttering, "Always remember to play safe when up high."

Turning, she swung her pickaxe and struck down another monster that lunged from behind. A swift kick sent it tumbling off the walkway too.

But she couldn’t afford to linger—there were too many. She could only press onward, moving upward along the walkway.

From this height, she realized she could knock the monsters down, making it a tough spot to attack. If things grew desperate, she might make a stand here.

“Damn it…”

But before she could set her plan, Mithra looked up and saw more monsters leaping from the cliff above, forcing her to move faster.

Of course—they could climb.

Despite the danger, she noticed her initial jolt of fear had dulled, her heart already steadying.

No matter how fast she ran, she was scratched and bitten, her hair and ears tugged, her eyes nearly clawed. But she fought back, struggling with every ounce of strength to escape.

More monsters swarmed her, her chances of survival growing slimmer.

Suddenly, she shifted her weight, ramming a monster entangled with her against the cliff’s jagged edge. She’d aimed for the sharpest rock to impale it.

A screech followed.

Ouch, her leg must’ve scraped something too.

No matter. A self-inflicted wound was better than a monster’s bite.

Freeing herself, she swung the pickaxe with all her strength, twisting her body and violently shaking off the monster clinging to her.

There were too many, but the narrow walkway worked to her advantage, crowding them.

Her chance.

With her free hand, she grabbed hold of a monster lunging at her head, yanking its snarling face away from her neck.

In that instant, their faces were mere inches apart, and Mithra caught the foul stench wafting from the monster's jagged, decaying teeth.

It fought with all its strength, still straining to sink its fangs into her flesh.

Then—a hiss.

But it wasn’t the monster biting Mithra. It was Mithra, sinking her own teeth into the creature.

In this fight, every part of her body was a weapon, and her teeth were no exception.

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The monster, stunned by her unexpected counterattack, spasmed in pain as Mithra bit down on its neck. Its limbs went limp, and she released her grip, flinging it off the walkway with a defiant twist of her head.

With a fierce swing of her pickaxe, she scattered the swarm of monsters, finally managing to claw her way free from the writhing pile.

One of her eyes was blinded, her body slick with blood and gore, yet thankfully, her injuries were mostly shallow. She could still move.

Using the bodies of fallen monsters to barricade the narrow walkway, she crawled toward a passage that led to another cave beyond.

Upon entering, before she could even draw a full breath, strange glyphs in white and deep purple shimmered before her eyes.

[Event —— "The First Bloody Battle"]

[Gift from "Lebaance": Your body’s regenerative ability is greatly enhanced. By consuming enemy "Blood," you will no longer require additional material nutrition or sensory compensation.]

[Price: During regeneration, all bodily sensations will intensify.]

The gift appeared in white text, the price in dark purple, with the rest of the description flickering between black and white.

“Accept.”

The words dissolved.

An instant later, a surge of unimaginable pain radiated through every wound. Her blinded eye throbbed like it was on fire.

“Aah!” Mithra cried, a raw, guttural sound of pure agony.

And then, darkness overtook her.

...

In the haze of her unconsciousness, whispers floated around her—voices chattering, laughter weaving through the words like fragments of dreams.

Slowly, she became aware of herself again, her senses grounding. Mithra’s eyes fluttered open, her mind stirring from the depths.

She was alive. That much was clear. Though she had blacked out so abruptly, the monsters hadn’t caught up.

…Wait. Something was wrong.

A campfire crackled nearby, its orange glow spilling warmth across the small cave and banishing the surrounding chill. Scattered around the fire lay well-worn tools, each bearing the scars of frequent use.

So, she hadn’t evaded the monsters on her own—she had been rescued.

“You woke up fast. I only just settled you down here. Want to catch a bit more sleep?” A low, gravelly voice echoed in the cave.

Mithra turned toward it, finding herself face-to-face with a man of sharp, angular features. He was aging, with thinning, curly brown hair and a weathered face. Dressed in a grey robe, he held a chain bracelet in his hands, its links catching the firelight.

“Did you save me? Thank you,” Mithra replied, rising to her feet as she discreetly checked her condition.

All of her injuries were gone. Her blinded eye had healed as well. While the price of regeneration had been steep, the gift was clearly powerful.

But the thought of the “life lock” nagged at her. Had she forfeited something essential without realizing it?

“Ah, pitch-black pupils.” The man’s eyes lingered on hers, and he murmured with a note of admiration. “You have remarkable eyes. They say that those with such eyes are brave and fearless.”

“Oh… really?” Mithra touched her eyelid, feeling the pulse beneath.

Fearless?

She replayed her recent behavior in her mind. For a city-dweller, she had been unnervingly composed, her reaction to the piles of corpses and waves of monsters amounting to little more than a raised eyebrow.

These eyes were doing more than just granting her insight.

While she kept her face impassive, her mind raced with concern.

She remembered feeling stronger too, albeit marginally. Could that also be connected to these “night eyes”?

If so, the life lock must indeed have been something vital.

“So,” the man spoke again, “how did you end up here, in this mine shaft? Gross Town has turned into a cursed wasteland outside. Ordinary folk are rarely found here. And despite your eyes, you don’t look especially hardy.”

“I’m not sure myself. I just… woke up here.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “And where did you come from?”

Mithra hesitated, then asked, “Who are you, sir?”

The man chuckled softly. “Forgive my questions. I’m Safin, an investigator of ancient relics. But, as you can see, I’ve run into a few complications in this mine shaft… can’t get out.”

“Mithra,” she replied, inclining her head.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mithra. Now, back to what I mentioned earlier: judging by your expression and demeanor, you seem to hail from a place called 'Enchanting Land.'"

"Enchanting Land?" Mithra echoed, curiosity piqued.

"It’s a realm untouched by gods or large-scale wars. At least, that's how it was the last time I heard. People there can easily traverse between 'Dreamland' and 'Enchanting Land.'"

"This is Dreamland?" Mithra asked, her eyes widening.

"Indeed. Dreamland is a place akin to a dream itself, though it holds both good and bad dreams. Right now, it seems there are more bad dreams than good," Safin replied, his relaxed tone reminiscent of her high school math teacher.

"I don’t know anything about this," Mithra admitted, a hint of frustration in her voice.

"I can tell. Your senses are still asleep. Typically, someone who finds themselves in Dreamland has at least become a believer, capable of performing miracles."

"Miracles? Is that like magic?"

"Magic? Well, some places do refer to miracles as magic, but 'miracles' is the more formal term from the era of the Forty-Four Pillar Gods."

"Oh." So essentially, it was magic.

Safin regarded Mithra with a contemplative look, as if weighing something in his mind.

After a lengthy silence, just as Mithra opened her mouth to ask a question, Safin continued, "Since you’re not fully awakened yet, how about we strike a deal?"

Mithra narrowed her eyes at him.

"I'll teach you about miracles and help you become a believer. In return, I need you to venture deeper into the mine shaft to retrieve something for me. This isn’t urgent; you can explore the shallower levels of the mine shaft to familiarize yourself and even return to the Enchanting Land to recover before coming back to assist me."

Safin's proposal felt surprisingly non-threatening; he didn’t seek to exploit her vulnerability.

"Do I need to swear an oath?" Mithra asked, brow furrowed.

"No," he replied simply.

"You’re not worried I’ll run?"

"You underestimate how long I've been stuck here. Teaching a novice like you won’t require much effort and might even add some excitement to my otherwise dull existence. If you find that you lack the ability or desire, there's no obligation to return," Safin said, his demeanor calm and inviting.

"But we just met..."

"True. I wouldn't place my trust in a newcomer, especially not one from the Enchanting Land. But I trust your eyes," he said with a warm smile.

Mithra felt both underestimated and inexplicably valued. It was an unusual sensation.

"I have no reason to refuse," she finally replied.

Safin's smile widened, and he nodded in approval.

Without further ado, the first lesson commenced.