The forest thinned as I approached the dungeon's location, giving way to a curious geological anomaly that stood in stark contrast to the surrounding landscape. A solitary hill rose from the otherwise flat terrain, its unnatural symmetry immediately triggering my suspicion. Normal hills didn't form with such perfect conical shapes, nor did they typically feature a single, yawning entrance that resembled nothing so much as an open mouth waiting to swallow unwary travelers.
The entrance was framed by stones that had been deliberately placed—not by human hands, but by the dungeon's own formation process. These rocks bore faint luminescent patterns that pulsed with a slow, almost hypnotic rhythm. Moss with an unusual bluish tint clung to the stones, thriving in the subtle emanations of mana that leaked from within.
Dungeon diving. This was a popular and common part of the adventuring occupation that many took a hand in during their starting-out years of said job. Adventurers would constantly risk their lives for glory, seeking treasures and rare materials that could only be found in these supernatural labyrinths. The mana-rich environments produced resources that could not be harvested or found anywhere else in the natural world.
According to Codex, who was filling me in as we approached the second commission of the day turned night, the dungeons present on Gaia formed when there was an excess of mana in the surroundings while a mana geyser conveniently happened to be nearby. So in situations where, for example, strong beings like demigods battled or all-out magical warfare occurred, the large amounts of mana released and lingering in the environment created perfect conditions. Should these conditions align properly, a dungeon would form. Those were normal ones resulting from incidents caused by living beings. The more natural ones that formed over time were even more deadly than those described above.
I approached cautiously, my senses extended to their maximum range. The air grew noticeably cooler as I neared the entrance, carrying the distinctive scent of ozone mingled with something earthy and primal—the unmistakable aroma of concentrated mana and stone that had been shaped by supernatural forces rather than natural erosion.
"Codex, considering that the mission passed through the town we just came from, I'm guessing the demons have a hand in this too, right?" I mused as I kept pace while nearing the target location, the grass crunching softly beneath my boots.
"Indeed, my lord, the likelihood of that being true is quite high. What would you wish to do should it be as we assume?" he inquired, his voice a measured, soothing presence in my mind.
"Simple: gather info and leave. If it's an outpost, I will still leave it be as long as they're not endangering any other beings around..." I replied, increasing my speed. The sooner I completed this mission, the sooner I could proceed to the last task and call this first incursion of mine with B-rank missions complete.
The boundary between normal forest and dungeon territory was subtle but unmistakable to trained eyes. Normal insects fell silent, replaced by peculiar chittering sounds that emanated from creatures adapted to the dungeon's unique ecology. The vegetation itself changed character—ordinary trees giving way to species with slightly phosphorescent leaves that collected and processed the excess mana in the air. Even the soil beneath my feet felt different, more densely packed and slightly charged, as if the very earth had been altered by proximity to the dungeon's influence.
Standing outside the entrance, I crouched down and placed my palm against the ground, the soil cool and slightly damp beneath my fingers. I channeled my mana into the earth, initiating Analysis to better understand the structure of the dungeon that had formed beneath this innocuous-looking hill.
The spell activated with a subtle pulse that rippled outward from my palm, invisible waves of magical energy penetrating deep into the ground. Information flowed back to me—sensations, impressions, and data that my mind automatically categorized and interpreted.
"This... it's actually B-rank. And from what you've taught me about them, it 'feels' conquered already? But how?" I muttered, furrowing my brow as I pushed my senses deeper, not physically entering the dungeon but rather communing with its core, hidden far far deeper, below the surface.
The essence of the dungeon responded to my magical inquiry, reluctantly yielding its secrets. If a normal adventurer had attempted this method, they would have encountered nothing but obstruction—a wall of impenetrable darkness beyond which no information could be gleaned. But with my soul and mana senses constantly fueled by primordial mana, I possessed advantages that transcended conventional limitations.
Images formed in my mind's eye: a labyrinthine network of tunnels stretching downward in spiraling patterns, chambers of varying sizes arranged in a complex three-dimensional matrix, and at the heart of it all, a pulsing core of pure mana that served as the dungeon's "brain." The architecture wasn't random but followed a sophisticated organic pattern that mimicked living circulatory systems.
Each level of the dungeon had developed its own distinct ecosystem. The upper levels contained twisted versions of the forest above—mutated plants with predatory tendencies, insects grown to unsettling proportions, and animals warped by constant exposure to concentrated mana. Deeper levels progressively diverged from surface environments, becoming increasingly alien and hostile to normal life.
What caught my attention, however, was the unnatural order imposed upon this chaotic system. The dungeon's natural evolutionary trajectory had been forcefully redirected, its growth patterns altered to serve external purposes. This wasn't the result of natural development but deliberate manipulation.
"Hmmm.... Oooh? My oh my.... Looks like we were right on the money, Codex," I muttered, having received even more detailed feedback from the conquered dungeon. The structure was being preserved and manipulated by exactly the group we had suspected. Demons had taken control of the place, and judging from my senses, this particular group was larger than what I had faced inside the town.
Through my enhanced perception, I could detect approximately forty to fifty demonic signatures scattered throughout the dungeon's levels. Most were concentrated near the core, suggesting they understood the strategic importance of controlling the dungeon's "heart." Their auras varied in intensity—the majority registered as S-rank threats, with several EX-ranked entities among them and at least two demigod-level presences lurking in the deepest chamber.
More alarming than their numbers was their activity. They weren't merely occupying the dungeon but actively modifying it, altering its internal structure to better serve their purposes. They had established a complex network of spatial warping spells that allowed instantaneous travel between key points within the dungeon and, more worryingly, created connections to other locations outside—including, I suspected, their outpost beneath Taho Town that I had recently eliminated.
"They're using this as a hub," I realized, the pieces falling into place. "A central node in a network that could potentially span the entire eastern region."
The implications were disturbing. A demonic force entrenched in a powerful dungeon could harness its natural mana production to fuel long-term operations. They could use the dungeon's resources to create weapons, potions, or magical artifacts. Most concerning of all, they could utilize the dungeon's inherent spatial properties to establish near-instantaneous transportation across vast distances, effectively bypassing conventional defensive perimeters.
If left unchecked, this single B-rank dungeon could become the foundation for a comprehensive demonic invasion infrastructure.
I was sorely tempted to enter and eradicate them as I had done with the outpost beneath Taho Town. My fingers twitched reflexively toward my sword, the weapon humming softly in its scabbard as if sensing my bloodlust and responding with eagerness.
But I restrained myself, remembering the mission parameters. I had been specifically instructed—no, ordered—not to clear the dungeon, no matter the cost. Doing so would mean offending various parties who had interests in this newly discovered resource. Politics and power struggles inevitably surrounded valuable dungeons, and my interference could potentially disrupt delicate balances beyond my current understanding.
Besides, I had other plans in motion. Revealing my true capabilities now would be premature and potentially counterproductive to my longer-term goals.
With a slight sigh of resignation, I extracted my consciousness from the dungeon's depths and returned my awareness fully to my physical surroundings. The forest seemed mundane and almost disappointingly ordinary after glimpsing the twisted wonders that lay beneath.
I retrieved the second mission contract from my spatial storage, the parchment materializing in my hand with a subtle shimmer. The paper felt warm to the touch, responding to my mana as I activated its innate magic.
The contract glowed softly as I channeled mana into it, initiating the sense-sharing function embedded in its enchantment. While maintaining contact with the ground, I once again extended my mystical senses deep into the dungeon, but this time I directed the feedback into the contract rather than processing it myself.
The parchment absorbed the information, magical script appearing and disappearing across its surface as it recorded the dungeon's specifications, ecological makeup, architectural patterns, and—most critically—its current occupation by demonic forces. Detailed assessments of the dungeon's rank, potential resource yields, and strategic value manifested in neat, orderly paragraphs, accompanied by magical diagrams that shifted and moved like living illustrations.
When the recording was complete, the contract emitted a soft green glow—confirmation that the mission had been successfully fulfilled. I had gathered the required information without physically entering the dungeon, a feat that would have typically required a full team of experienced adventurers risking life and limb to explore its depths.
"Mission complete," I muttered, tucking the contract back into my spatial storage. "And without unnecessarily exposing myself."
I stood, brushing dirt from my palm and taking one last look at the dungeon entrance. The innocuous hill seemed more sinister now that I knew what lurked beneath, like a beautiful facade concealing rot within.
I didn't linger. There was nothing to gain by remaining, and potentially much to lose if the demons detected my presence. With my soul sense, I confirmed that the operatives tracking me had maintained their distance—close enough to monitor my general location but too far to have observed the specifics of my investigation technique. Good. Let them wonder how I'd completed the mission so quickly and efficiently.
I turned away from the dungeon entrance and began moving eastward toward my final target—the bandit camp. Unlike the demons, these bandits were simple prey, hardly worth considering as threats. Still, they would provide another opportunity to drop carefully calculated breadcrumbs for my hunters to follow.
"What a nice day to get rich from bandits, eh?" I said to no one in particular, increasing my pace to a speed that would appear impressive but not impossible for a talented C-rank adventurer.
The forest blurred slightly around me as I accelerated, the gentle rustling of leaves and undergrowth accompanying my passage. Behind me, the dungeon hill slowly receded into the distance, its secrets temporarily preserved but not forgotten. I would return eventually, when the time was right—not as an investigator but as an executioner.
For now, though, bandits waited. And I had a reputation to build.
---
[Melia's POV]
The afternoon light filtering through the second-floor windows of Koladar's Adventurer Guild had shifted to the golden hues of approaching evening, casting long shadows across the polished wooden floor of the private offices. Melia sat alone in her corner booth, the space usually bustling with the chatter of receptionist colleagues now eerily silent as most had departed for their evening shifts downstairs or retired for the day.
Her personal desk—normally a model of meticulous organization—was now in disarray. Three mission contracts lay spread before her, their innocuous appearance belying the shocking information they contained. Her hands were steepled together, knuckles white with tension, claws digging slight indentations into her fur as she stared at the papers with a mixture of disbelief and mounting horror.
The first contract—the demonic investigation at Taho Town—glowed with a completed status indicator, the green tinge of its success marker casting an almost sickly illumination on her face. She had been checking Ryan's progress obsessively, using the synchronicity between the original contracts and the duplicates he carried to monitor his advancement.
"He's already done with the demonic investigation at Taho Town? Bu...buut...but it hasn't even been more than four hours!!!!!" she exclaimed, her voice rising to a shrill pitch that echoed in the empty office space. Her ears flattened against her head in distress, whiskers twitching sporadically. "What the fuck? How the hell is he that fast? A distance that takes an entire day to get to and more to investigate information that had been taken as speculation was done in FOUR FUCKING HOURS?!!!"
She was grateful for the solitude. Had any colleagues witnessed her outburst, questions would have followed—questions she wasn't prepared to answer. Not when she herself was struggling to comprehend what was happening.
With trembling fingers, she reached for the first contract again, injecting a measured pulse of mana into the enchanted paper. The document responded immediately, projecting the information it had received from its counterpart—a detailed record of Ryan's investigation that left her pale, sweaty, and fighting waves of nausea.
The magical projection showed evidence of demonic activity, yes—but not the minor infestations or isolated incidents the guild had anticipated. What she witnessed was a full-scale infiltration operation, meticulously planned and executed with terrifying efficiency. Worse still was Ryan's response—not cautious information gathering or tactical retreat to request reinforcements, but a systematic and brutally efficient elimination of every demon in the hideout.
It wasn't even Ryan's brutal massacre of the entire camp that horrified her most, though the casual ease with which he dispatched demigod-ranked entities was disturbing enough. No, what truly terrified her was the realization of how deeply the demons had infiltrated the region.
The recording showed mist demons—entities she had only read about in the guild's most restricted archives—who could completely consume their victims and assume their identities with perfect mimicry. They had already replaced guards, shop owners, and even a receptionist at the local guild branch. The implications were staggering.
"Shit....no....no no no no," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper as horrifying realizations cascaded through her mind. The information couldn't simply be reported through normal channels—not when any of her superiors could potentially be impostors themselves. Even within Koladar, who could say how far the infiltration had progressed? The thought of approaching her guild master with this information suddenly seemed fraught with danger.
And now, as if to compound her growing panic, the second contract had just turned green as well. Ryan had somehow already completed the dungeon investigation—a task that should have required days of careful exploration and assessment by a full team of experienced adventurers.
Her claws clicked anxiously against the wooden desk as she debated whether to view this report as well. The information from Taho Town had already burdened her with knowledge she wasn't prepared to handle. What fresh horrors would the dungeon report reveal?
After a moment's hesitation, her professional curiosity overcame her fear. She injected mana into the second contract, bracing herself for what it might show.
The projection that formed above the paper was even more detailed than the first—a three-dimensional model of the dungeon's structure, complete with annotated levels, resource concentrations, ecological systems, and... demon signatures. Dozens of them, organized in military formation, with power levels that made the outpost at Taho Town look like a minor scouting party by comparison.
"They're everywhere," she whispered, fur standing on end as the magnitude of the threat became clear. "This isn't just random incursions—it's a coordinated invasion network."
The detail of Ryan's report was astonishing—information that would have taken a specialized exploration team weeks to compile, if they survived the attempt at all. Yet he had somehow gathered it without even entering the dungeon, and in a fraction of the time any normal assessment should have required.
Which raised the increasingly uncomfortable question: who—or what—was Ryan? She had suspected from the beginning that he was concealing his true capabilities, but the gap between his registered C-rank status and the power necessary to accomplish these feats wasn't merely wide—it was an unbridgeable chasm.
Her instincts had been correct when they first met, but she had severely underestimated the magnitude of his deception. She had thought him perhaps an A-rank or even EX-rank adventurer slumming in lower ranks for some personal reason. Now she wondered if she was dealing with something else entirely—perhaps even a demigod in disguise.
A chill ran down her spine at the thought. If he was that powerful, why the elaborate charade? What game was he playing, and to what end?
More pressing still: what was she supposed to do with this information? The existence of these demonic networks needed to be reported, but doing so could potentially expose her to infiltrators. Yet failing to report it meant allowing the invasion to continue unchecked.
And what of Ryan himself? Was he an ally in this conflict, or did he have his own agenda that merely happened to intersect with eliminating demons for now?
She stared at the third contract—still inactive, awaiting completion—and wondered what revelations it would bring when Ryan inevitably completed it in record time. The bandit mission had seemed so straightforward when she selected it, a simple elimination task to test his combat capabilities. Now it felt like an afterthought compared to the existential threats revealed by the first two missions.
Melia's tail lashed anxiously behind her as she considered her limited options. She could bring this directly to the guild master, risking exposure if he was compromised. She could attempt to verify his humanity first, but how? The mist demons' mimicry was reportedly perfect. She could contact the kingdom's special forces, but that would mean circumventing guild protocol entirely—a career-ending move if unjustified.
Or she could wait and observe Ryan further, perhaps confront him directly about his true nature and purpose. That option carried its own risks—if he wasn't what he appeared to be, drawing his attention might prove fatal.
"What have I gotten myself into?" she whispered, ears flat against her skull as she gathered the contracts with trembling hands, securing them in her personal safe beneath the floorboards of her booth. Whatever she decided, the information needed to be protected first.
For now, she would watch and wait, carefully documenting Ryan's activities while discreetly investigating which channels might still be trustworthy. And perhaps most importantly, she would reevaluate her relationship with her mysterious protégé, approaching him with far more caution than the casual familiarity she had previously employed.
Because one thing was now abundantly clear: Ryan was not what he seemed. And in a world where demons could wear human faces, nothing was more dangerous than an unknown variable.