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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: FusionX
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At the central lounge of a certain mercenary group’s base, burly men packed inside maintained a tense silence with grim expressions, as if waiting for something. Not a single word of conversation passed between them.
“I’m back!” a man’s hearty laughter rang out as the door flung open. The men stirred and rose to their feet, seeing Cain enter with a bright, radiant expression. The outcome was easy to guess.
“Did you succeed?”
“Of course we conquered that measly dungeon!”
“Any casualties?”
“Our youngest rookie skinning his knee was the worst injury!”
“Huzzaaah!” Cheers erupted, shaking the lounge.
Cain high-fived the eager hands reaching out to him as he advanced to the reception desk. From his chest, he produced a small stone. The dungeon core that had been embedded in the deepest chamber, emanating an eerie purple glow. Proof that the conquest was complete.
Once the core is extracted, the dungeon ceases to function and can no longer generate monsters. The appraiser accepted the core, placed his hand on it, closed his eyes and focused.
“Yes, it’s confirmed. This is indeed the core of Dungeon 57.”
“Yeahhh!” Triumphant roars erupted again as hands stretched out to ruffle Cain’s hair. They had finally conquered the dreaded Dungeon 57 without a single sacrifice, after much hardship.
Cain pushed through the crowd to a giant map on the central desk. Dungeons were marked with stars indicating their difficulty. Yellow for unconquered. Red for unconquered where lives had been lost, regarded as more perilous. And black stars, of which only 13 existed on the entire map, signifying abandoned dungeons.
When all mercenary captains reached consensus, a dungeon would be officially designated as abandoned. Even with the same five stars, black was on another level entirely from red – red meant danger, black meant certain death.
Dungeon 57 had five yellow stars. The only five-star dungeon not yet red or black. Cain picked up a pen and drew an X through it on the map. Dungeon 57 was now the lone top-difficulty dungeon conquered without casualties.
“Send messengers to all mercenary groups! Announce that we’ve conquered Dungeon 57! Without spilling a single drop of blood!”
“Yes sir!” Subordinates excitedly rushed out to deliver the news.
All dungeon information was shared between mercenary groups. New discoveries or deaths were promptly communicated and maps simultaneously updated. Though they fought endlessly over loot, the mercenaries unconditionally cooperated in mapmaking.
There was no other way. If groups started concealing dungeons they found, civilian casualties would skyrocket. Worries over protecting their own families and homelands drove the mercenaries to join hands in constructing the dungeon map. A product born from the minimal conscience and humanity remaining in a bunch of self-interested, calculating individuals.
Constantly updated through such cooperation, the map’s credibility was high enough that even nobles and royals who looked down on mercenaries purchased it for reference. Preserving the honor of mercenaries as a byproduct of collaboration to defend their loved ones and lands.
“Cain! Not coming to drink?”
“You guys go ahead.”
“It’s no fun without the hero!”
“It’s the anniversary of my brothers’ deaths today… Let’s drink tomorrow instead.”
“Ah…” The lively atmosphere immediately deflated.
The men quietly filed out of the lounge, giving up on persuading him. By the time they had all left, Cain was staring intently at one spot on the map. A dungeon marked with five black stars. Dungeon 6.
“It’s already been 5 years, huh…” Alone in the lounge, Cain set out five glasses on an empty table and popped open a whiskey bottle, pouring until each glass was filled. Raising one, he made a toast to the air.
“Brothers… I think I’ve finally overcome the trauma.” Closing his eyes, he recalled the memories.
5 years ago, when young Cain had excitedly informed his party members about a new dungeon he discovered. His brothers had praised him, and together they set out for the dungeon.
It was bizarre from the start. Most entrances were on cave walls, but this one was right in the middle of a large cavity. However, young Cain had thoughtlessly touched the door in his eagerness to accomplish something, and that’s when the tragedy began.
Howls of Fenrir filled the air. Cain’s brothers quickly surrounded him in defensive formation. But an onslaught of fierce wolves poured out of the caves in all directions. Screams of agony and rending flesh rang out in a one-sided massacre.
Amidst that hellscape, Cain survived only because a burly mercenary shielded him with his own body, letting out death throes as his bones shattered. From that day forth, their party was branded as foolish weaklings who got wiped out without even managing to enter the dungeon.
Of course, no difficulty rating was given. Countless parties attempted to conquer it after that, but none could break through the entrance. In the end, it was designated as a black star dungeon and officially abandoned. One of the worst recorded.
“Sorry for badmouthing your party back then… I had no idea it was that dangerous.”
Their honor was somewhat restored, but it wasn’t enough. Inheriting the will of his senselessly killed brothers, Cain diligently challenged dungeons, growing stronger and stronger. And today, 5 years later, he had conquered the notoriously brutal Dungeon 57 without losing a single comrade. A feat that would go down in history.
He had defended his brothers’ honor, proving the worth of their sacrifice to save him. Surely they could watch over him from heaven without shame now.
Just as Cain chuckled and refilled his glass, a young boy approached the map, glancing around.
“You look like you need some help,” Cain set down his glass and spoke to the new apprentice appraiser.
“Ah, yes. I’m still memorizing the map, so it’s hard to find specific dungeons…”
“Which one are you looking for?”
“Number 6.”
“What?” Cain’s expression contorted. Impossible. Why would anyone touch that accursed black star dungeon?
“Why are you looking for Dungeon 6?”
“To mark it as conquered.”
“Haha, you must be mistaken. Dungeon 6 was abandoned. What lunatic would challenge a black star dungeon…”
“But the core I just appraised definitely matched the signature of Dungeon 6…”
“What? Let me see that!”
Cain snatched the stone from the boy’s hand. The moment he held that ominous rock, he realized. He may not understand technicalities like core structure and unique resonance, but this stone undoubtedly emitted the same energy as the door Cain had touched 5 years ago.
“The person who gave you this core! Who was it?”
“I’m not sure… It wasn’t anyone from our mercenary group, but an outsider…”
“Where are they now?”
“They left a little while ago.”
“Damn it!”
Cain burst out of the lounge and surveyed the area. At the end of the hallway, he spotted someone’s back.
“Wait! Stop right there!” The figure paused and turned around at Cain’s shout. But something was off.
Short stature. Scruffy silver hair. Clearly a young girl. She gazed at Cain expressionlessly, then slowly raised her arm.
“…Peace,” she shaped her hand into a V-sign. Cain froze, unsure how to interpret it. Like watching an emotionless machine pretend to have feelings.
In his confusion, the girl rounded the corner and vanished. “Hey! I said stop! Let’s talk for a minute! Hahh…” Cain rushed outside, only to be met with throngs of people. The girl was nowhere to be seen. He had lost her.
Deflated, he could only gasp in astonishment. “That little girl wiped out a pack of Fenrir all alone?”
It was hard to believe, but he had no choice but to accept it. Having experienced the difficulty of Dungeon 6 firsthand, he understood. The girl’s prowess was already far beyond that of ordinary mercenaries. This was the birth of a new legend.
* * *
“I bet they’re making a big fuss like this right about now.”
A new legend. A rising divine hero. The true identity of the cool beauty silver-haired girl. The mercenary groups were probably all abuzz with such speculations.
Of course, after a dungeon they had given up on and neglected for 5 years was suddenly beaten. Clearing such high-difficulty dungeons would naturally draw attention. As my reputation increased, so would my chances of encountering the main heroines.
I wanted to sweep through dungeons as I pleased, but I didn’t want to become famous, so I resorted to drastic measures.
“I’m hungry. Let’s go eat.”
“…I’m. Not hungry.”
“I’m the one who’s hungry. You don’t eat anyway.”
“…Yeah.”
I decided to put this kid out in front. Pulling her hood up, Undecided glanced at me. The hood suited her quite well. Her skin was vulnerable to sunlight, so she needed protection. And she had to hide her pale complexion to avoid being identified as a blood ghoul.
She didn’t look at all capable of slaughtering dozens of Fenrir. I had been worried no one would believe it, but…
“I’m telling you, I saw her! It was a short little girl!”
“Are you sure you weren’t mistaken?”
“Argh, how many times do I have to say it! I’m positive! There was no emotion at all in her expression – she must have lost it after fighting too much! Maybe that’s why her growth stopped too, from fighting way too much!”
“Hmph, Cain’s not one to exaggerate…”
You see? They’re totally buying it. The mercenaries had claimed a corner of the restaurant, animatedly discussing Undecided.
I laughed and glanced to the side. Undecided exhaled sharply through her nose, looking quite proud despite her blank expression.
“Whew, I’m beat. How many dungeons did we do today?”
“…12.”
“That’s right.”
“…I. Did great.”
“Yeah. We cleared them smoothly thanks to you.”
We had hit 12 dungeons nonstop since early morning. In the past, 5 per day was my limit even with the heroines. Solo, I maxed out at 10.
Undecided tirelessly followed along as long as I supplied her blood on time, obediently activating Guardian Knight without complaint. It was so convenient to put her out front as disposable bait despite the high fatality risk.
“The rewards are piling up nicely.” I opened my bag to reveal an abundance of mana stones.
Mercenaries may brag about fighting to kill monsters that harass people, but the dungeon rewards were likely a bigger motivation. Hitting a jackpot could be life-changing, after all.
The problem was, the rewards were random. You could end up with a mountain of mana stones after leisurely killing nothing but slimes. Or the final chamber your comrades died to reach could be completely empty.
Of course, there were exceptions. Top-grade rewards were guaranteed in black star dungeons.
“…Wow.” I discreetly opened a separate sack under the desk. Glossy black gems were revealed, their insides shimmering beautifully like galaxies were trapped within. The finest grade of mana stones, incomparable in value to a huge pile of the cheapo ones in my bag.
“…Can I. Touch them?”
“No.” I promptly shut the sack and shoved it in my bag. I wasn’t going to waste these precious gains by selling them, even if it would make me filthy rich. I planned to put them to good use.
My Mana Control skill was still only level 1, making it hard to regulate. If I pushed myself to mana exhaustion or overload in a dungeon, I’d be a goner. I couldn’t really utilize Mana Control at all today because of that.
Crafting these mana stones into magical tools would help with controlling it.
“I’ll let you touch them after they’re processed.”
“……Okay.”
I knew of an exceedingly skilled craftsman. A guy who becomes a big shot in the later story. I was going to preemptively win him over.
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Finally the power fantasy properly start
The real story begins