The forest park surrounding the dungeon grew quiet as night settled in.
Not silent—never silent—but restrained, as if even the wind understood that this place belonged to those standing on the edge between life and death. Tall trees formed a loose ring around the clearing, their branches heavy with leaves that caught the faint glow of mana-lamps embedded along the paths. The lamps pulsed slowly, releasing deterrent waves meant to keep low-tier beasts at bay.
Eren chose a spot near the boundary of the warded zone.
Close enough to benefit from protection.Far enough to be ignored.
He placed his pack down and sat against the rough bark of a tree, letting the tension drain from his body inch by inch. Only now, with danger temporarily distant, did exhaustion surface properly.
His arms ached.His legs felt heavy.His core burned faintly—not pain, but strain.
He closed his eyes and breathed.
In.Out.Slow. Controlled.
When his pulse finally steadied, he reached into his pack and laid out the Mistroot he had harvested earlier. Pale-blue leaves shimmered softly under the mana-lamp light, veins pulsing like a second heartbeat.
Low-grade mana herbs.
But honest ones.
He crushed a leaf gently between his fingers and consumed it slowly, careful not to rush absorption. Forcing mana was a mistake beginners often made—leading to backlash, instability, or worse.
Cool energy spread through his body, seeping into exhausted channels, smoothing the roughness in his circulation.
Not explosive.
Sustainable.
He focused inward, guiding mana along basic routes, repeating the same disciplined pattern he had practiced since leaving the Veridian estate. Time slipped by unnoticed as the flow gradually stabilized.
When he opened his eyes again, the forest felt slightly clearer.
Sharper.
He summoned his status window.
The translucent panel formed quietly before him, steady and responsive.
===Status===
Name: Eren VeridianRank: F+
Strength: F+Speed: F+Stamina: EMana: F+Luck: BCharm: C
Skills:
Calm Mind (C)
Arts:
★★★ Basic Sword Art — Practitioner
====================
Eren studied it carefully.
Strength and Mana had both stabilized at F+—not impressive, but no longer fragile. His stamina remained his strongest attribute, proof that endurance training and controlled mana circulation were paying off.
No sudden jumps.
No cheats.
Just progress.
He dismissed the window and leaned his head back against the tree.
This was enough—for now.
Others in the Park
Footsteps echoed faintly from the main path.
Eren's senses sharpened instantly, Calm Mind filtering the sound. A group of adventurers passed by—three of them, their gear scarred and stained, movements heavy with fatigue. One laughed weakly, relief evident in his voice.
They smelled of blood and damp stone.
Survivors.
They didn't look his way.
Later, a lone man carrying a lantern approached the edge of the park. Middle-aged, weathered, mana steady but unremarkable—C-rank.
He noticed Eren and slowed.
"First dive today?" the man asked casually.
"Yes."
"Second tomorrow?"
"Yes."
The man nodded slowly. "Careful with that one. This dungeon teaches bad habits before it kills people."
Eren inclined his head slightly. "I'll remember."
The man studied him for another moment, then shrugged. "Wards hold till dawn. Just don't wander past the outer trees."
"Thank you."
The man waved once and continued on his way.
No lectures.
No pity.
Just acknowledgment.
Night
Sleep came lightly.
Eren never truly lost awareness—conditioning made deep sleep difficult—but his body entered a shallow recovery state. Dreams brushed past him without forming images. Stone. Depth. A sense of something waiting below.
At one point, he woke and stared upward through the canopy, watching mana particles drift slowly between leaves like faint stars.
This world felt vast.
Dangerous.
And strangely fair.
He sat up, drank a measured amount of water, and resumed breathing exercises. Every cycle reinforced control. Every pause strengthened stability.
By the time dawn approached, fatigue had receded into something manageable.
Not rested.
Ready.
Resolve
Eren packed methodically.
Sword secured.Dagger positioned.Explosives checked.Herbs stored safely.
He stood and looked toward the dungeon entrance visible through the trees.
Today, he would descend again.
Not to claim Black Nox.
Not yet.
He would confirm the hidden route. Test the depth. Measure resistance.
Black Nox was not power meant to be seized.
It was power meant to be endured.
He tightened his pack straps and stepped onto the path leading back to the dungeon.
As he walked, a quiet certainty settled in him.
If I fall here…It will be by my own choice.
And for the first time in two lives—
That felt like freedom.