As dawn broke, my anxiety reached its peak.
It was time to confront the mystery of the dungeon.
I barely slept last night. The absurdity of it all kept me awake — a missing noble's associate, a Valneria-sealed permit, and me, a broke investigator chasing shadows. For the first time in my life, I regretted becoming a private investigator — and even more, helping those maids from the Valneria mansion.
Never thought catching cheaters could get me into this kind of trouble.
With a heavy sigh, I took two gold Orions from the ledger. I rummaged through drawers for leftover potions while fastening my black cloak, only to realize I was completely out. Typical.I strapped my sword to my waist, its sheath worn but familiar. Before leaving, I caught my reflection in the mirror — a face dulled by exhaustion, three years of adventuring, and too many regrets.
"I hate myself," I muttered under my breath.
I grabbed my adventuring license and stepped out. The morning streets were half-awake — fog rolling low, merchants shouting over the hum of carriages. I stopped by Estera Street on my way to the dungeon to restock supplies.
The potion shop smelled of burnt mana and damp herbs. I bought two regeneration potions, two healing, and one each of strength, dexterity, and durability. Added five food pills for good measure. The total came to seven silver Orions — inflation had struck again.
What caught my eye, though, was the ridiculous number of intimacy potions people were buying. Humanity never failed to disappoint.
Half an hour later, I stood before the Margrave's Dungeon.
Nothing had changed — the seventy-story Adventurers' Guild loomed over the district, its halls bursting with adventurers, merchants, and wanderers.
To enter the dungeon, you had to validate your license and permit, then use the mana teleportation pods to reach your assigned floor.
There were over five hundred validation counters, each assigned to a floor range. I headed to Counter 17. After a short wait, the receptionist called my name.
I presented my license and permit. The moment she saw the Valneria crest, her demeanor shifted. She stamped the papers immediately and bowed slightly.
"Apologies for the delay, Mr. Walnner."
Power had that effect on people — even borrowed power.
Not every floor had teleportation access, and 13,456 was one of them. I'd have to teleport to 13,449 and descend manually. Before stepping into the pod, I bought a dungeon map.
My heart was pounding, but there was no going back.
Floor 13,449 was a rest floor — a temporary haven for adventurers. Market stalls, inns, and taverns lined the cavern walls, faint runes glowing above. The air buzzed with chatter, but tension lingered beneath the surface.
Every adventurer knew the one unspoken rule:
Never trust anyone. Never lower your guard.
Humans are worse than monsters.
Greed devours them. Pride blinds them. Envy drives them.
I've seen horrors here — crimes you can't even speak of without losing a piece of yourself.
I left 13,449 and headed deeper, a mana lantern in hand. My strategy was simple: lower my mana output to stay undetected by both humans and monsters. It saved energy and avoided confrontation.
At first, nothing seemed unusual. Monsters skulked in the distance, feeding on one another. Because of Rodeao's disappearance, no one was exploring this sector anymore.
I activated my mana sight, letting the world shift into waves of light and energy. Everything appeared normal — until I reached floor 13,456.
The air was colder here. Thinner.
I examined the terrain — the viliee sporacles, the scattered rocks, the faint shimmer of moisture on the cavern floor. No monsters, no sounds. It looked like the area had been cleared recently by a high-level team.
Then I saw it — a faint black mana trail.
It was so thin that even elite adventurers would've missed it. But my mana vision was different — sharper, deeper. It wasn't just sight; it was instinct. I could sense emotions, hostility, even intent through the flow of mana.
It was the only reason I was still alive. Once, they even called me a genius.
But that's a story for another time.
I followed the trail carefully. My lantern flickered as the mana around me destabilized. It risked drawing attention of both humansand monsters. So, I had no choice but to extinguish the light and rely on pure mana sight.
Then came the fog
Thick, suffocating fog rolled in from nowhere, swallowing the entire floor. My sense of direction vanished instantly. The mana trail was my only anchor, so I pressed on.
With every step, the trail grew thinner… weaker… until it led to a narrow, dark passage.
My heartbeat quickened. Every instinct screamed at me to turn back. But the fog made retreat impossible. The only path left was forward — into the darkness.