Reborn as an Adventurer: I Gain a Skill From Every Monster I Eat

Chapter 148: Chapter 148 — Three Floors Down

The entrance to the Sundered Depths was less dramatic than Arlen had spent a month imagining it would be — a wide stone archway set into the base of a squat guild annex a short walk from the main hall, checkpoint guards stationed on either side with the same brisk efficiency as the registration counter upstairs.

”Badge,” the nearer guard said, and Arlen presented it without needing to be told twice. The small archway mark caught whatever quiet enchantment ran through the checkpoint’s stonework, and a soft, momentary glow passed over the guard’s scanning ward before she waved him through.

”Never gets old,” Kess said, falling into step beside him as the party passed beneath the archway, torchlight giving way to the cooler, mineral-scented dark of worked stone tunnels. ”First time through, especially.”

The passage widened within a few dozen yards into something considerably larger than Arlen expected — not a cramped mineshaft, but a proper corridor, wide enough for four abreast, walls smoothed by generations of traffic, ceiling strung with modest, evenly spaced lightstones.

”Floor One,” Ilyana said, unhurried. ”You’ll see other parties down here most days — gathering contracts, escort work, new arrivals getting their first proper look.”

She wasn’t wrong. Within the first quarter hour they passed two other groups, one hauling a modest sack of ordinary stone-beetle carapace, the other simply resting where the corridor widened into a natural alcove.

Their first monster came a short while after — a Stoneback Rat, easily the size of a large dog, its hide carrying a rough, gray-brown texture that looked, from a distance, disconcertingly like the surrounding stone. It skittered from a side passage, took one look at six armed adventurers, and fled back the way it had come.

”Fledgling,” Kess said, almost idle. ”Lowest of the named ranks — Ferrin will have hammered that into you already, but it’s easy to lose track of once you’re actually standing in front of one instead of hearing it as a lecture.”

”Fledgling, then Common, then Lesser,” Arlen said, more confirming than asking, the rhythm of it settling back into place from a month of orientation. ”I keep wanting to measure it against guild rank the way I measure everything else. Ferrin said that’s the wrong comparison.”

”It is,” Osric said. ”Guild rank tells you what a person’s earned — quests, reliability, reputation. Monster rank’s got nothing to do with any of that. If you want a real comparison, hold it against Power Realm instead. Both measure raw capability, not standing.”

”Which gets confusing in its own way,” Ilyana added, ”since a few of the names actually overlap. Realm has a Veteran tier. Monster rank has one too, sitting at Rank Five. Realm has Elite. Monster rank puts Elite at Rank Six. Coincidence, mostly — or not, depending which old scholar you ask. Either way, when you hear someone say ’Veteran,’ listen for which one they mean.”

”Rough shape of it,” Kess said, ticking it off with her fingers as they walked. ”Awakened realm handles Fledgling and Common monsters without much trouble — Rank One, Rank Two. Novice starts managing Lesser and Mature, Three and Four. Explorer’s comfortable against a proper Rank Five Veteran monster. Veteran realm — the person, not the monster — starts testing itself against Rank Six Elite monsters. Elite realm against Champion and Commander, seven and eight. Keeps climbing from there, Master into Lord and Overlord, and so on, all the way up past anything either of us has ever properly seen.”

”You’re Novice now,” Osric said, glancing at him. ”Which is exactly why the guild flagged this floor’s Rockhide Goblins for you specifically. Lesser rank, holding territory in a small group — enough to actually test coordination, not just swing a blade at something too weak to answer back.”

They descended a broad, gently sloping ramp to Floor Two, and the tunnels shifted almost immediately — narrower in places, lightstones spaced further apart, genuine pockets of darkness pooling between them. Arlen was quietly grateful for Hawk’s Eye’s steady clarity even before anyone called for caution.

The second encounter came without much warning — a Blindfang Lizard, pale and eyeless, surging from a crevice toward Grennig’s flank with a speed that belied its sluggish look. Grennig didn’t so much dodge as refuse to move, his shield already flaring with a dull, stone-colored shimmer as the creature’s strike glanced uselessly off the reinforced surface.

”There,” he said, satisfied, finishing it with a clean counter-strike. ”Venom glands worth taking, if anyone’s got a steady hand.”

Kess knelt beside the fallen creature, drawing a slim curved knife and working with practiced precision near the jaw. ”Good reminder, this one,” she said, glancing up at Arlen. ”Not everything’s worth stripping. Meat spoils fast down here — some species aren’t even edible to begin with. But venom, claws, decent hide, dense bone — that’s coin, if you know a buyer.”

”And ore, if you cross a vein,” Rurik added. ”Even if you can’t haul it yourself, marking the location’s worth guild credit. Herbs too — some only grow this deep, and the alchemists up top pay well for anything they can’t source otherwise.”

”Weight’s the real problem, carrying any of it properly,” Osric said. He drew a small, plain pouch from beneath his coat, unremarkable except for a faint shimmer at its opening, murmured something low, and reached in — his arm vanishing to the elbow into a space that should have been far too shallow to hold it.

”Storage Space,” he said, withdrawing his hand empty. ”Mana spell. Not cheap to learn, but worth every coin. Interior’s modest — nothing like the merchant-caravan versions wealthier houses commission — but it holds considerably more than the outside suggests, and nothing inside adds weight against your own carry.”

”Worth asking your instructor about, once the fundamentals are settled,” Kess said, something knowing in her expression.

Arlen filed the thought away, already turning over what Neris might say about it, and found himself, walking the widening passage toward whatever Floor Three actually held, settling into the same steady, patient attention that had carried him through every genuine unknown so far — not rushing to reach the goblins, simply paying proper attention to everything the descent offered along the way.

The air changed before anything visible did — warmer, damper, carrying a low, distant murmur that resolved, floor by floor, into something considerably busier than anything above it.