Re:Birth: A Slow Burn LitRPG Mage Regressor

North.

That was where you went when you wanted out of a dungeon. Always north. Some scholars claimed it was tied to the magnetic fields that most dungeons generated, others thought it was just God’s way of giving people a fighting chance. Not that it mattered much to Adom right now - knowing why north led to freedom wouldn’t make the journey any less deadly.

The lake was behind him now, its dark waters still echoing with the death throes of two monsters. What lay ahead would make them feel like pond fish. The Anchor Being. The very thought made his skin crawl. He’d heard stories, seen the aftermath of an average rank B dungeon boss. Whole teams of warriors, mages, and rangers - reduced to nothing but scattered equipment and bloodstains for not being careful enough. Rank B dungeons didn’t play games.

One month and three days until the illness took hold. Against an Anchor Being, he might as well have twenty-six minutes. Still, the alternative was dying in here, alone in the dark, while that thing prowled its territory. At least going north offered the illusion of choice.

His boots crunched on phosphorescent moss as he walked, each step measured, each shadow analyzed. The real challenge wouldn’t be finding the Anchor Being - it would find him. The challenge would be surviving the meeting.

That is, if he even made it that far.

Flying was awful. The constant shifts in air pressure made his stomach roll, his head spin, and his dignity take a serious hit every time he had to land and empty his stomach. But it beat walking through the desert section of this nightmare. Giant worms and desert stalkers had a nasty habit of turning people into red mist before they even knew what hit them. At least he was getting better at it - only puked twice this time.

The landing... well, that could have gone smoother. His ankle still throbbed from where he’d almost twisted it hitting the ground. Most mages who flew made it look so easy, gliding around on brooms or manipulating gravity like it was nothing. Meanwhile, he was still trying to figure out how to land without looking like a drunken pelican.

The shelter he’d found wasn’t much - just a natural formation in the rock wall - but it beat being exposed. Especially after that... incident. Adom still couldn’t wrap his head around it. A chicken. A massive, human-sized chicken that had tried to make him its lunch. The absurdity of dying by giant chicken would have been funny if it hadn’t come so close to being reality.

At least something good came out of it. The beast had broken its neck in the crash, and now the smell of roasting meat filled his temporary refuge. Monster meat was usually a gamble with death - rich people paid fortunes for properly treated basilisk steaks or hydra tongues, but one wrong bite could kill you faster than the monster itself. The taste test was simple: if it was naturally too sweet, too sour, or too salty, you were better off starving.

The shelter was little more than a crack in the rock face that widened into a shallow cave, but it was dry and defensible - only one way in or out. The small fire he’d built cast dancing shadows on the worn stone walls, kept low to avoid drawing attention.

Thin strands of mana stretched across the entrance and surrounding area like gossamer threads catching the firelight. Spider webs. The days passed at being captive of one had taught him a thing or two about effective warning systems.

The giant chicken sizzled on its makeshift spit from a piece of the golem’s armor, fat dripping into the flames with satisfying hisses. Each bite was a revelation - saltier than regular chicken, sure, but in a way that made his mouth water. The meat practically melted on his tongue, juicier than anything this size had any right to be. He’d have to remember this if he survived - monster chicken could make someone rich in the right market.

If I survive...

Adom leaned back against the cool cave wall, gnawing on a wing bigger than his torso. Time to think. Helios was still out there somewhere, probably. Hard to die of sun exposure in a place with no sun. Best case scenario: get out first, make the cure, and let the bastard rot in here. As for the Anchor Being...

He pulled out his school notebook from his inventory, jotting down ideas. A boss adapted to their environments, became one with their dungeons. This one had survived in a place with desert, lakes, and who knew what else. It would mot likely be ready for elemental attacks.

Maybe if he could combine pressure points with targeted fire spells? Or use the environment itself - dungeons were stable until they weren’t. If he could trigger a collapse at the right moment...

A faint chime rang in his head - one of the mana webs vibrating. Something was moving out there, disturbing his warning system. Adom extinguished the fire with a thought, pressing himself against the cave wall. The chicken would have to wait.

Three more webs triggered in quick succession. Whatever it was, it was getting closer.

Fire coalesced in Adom’s palm as he pressed against the wall, listening. The sounds coming from outside were... odd. Grunting, groaning, and then - a squeak?

He almost dropped the spell. A squeak? In a Class B dungeon? Everything here was supposed to be terrifying and deadly. Not... squeaking.

The creature was getting closer, sniffing the air. Probably caught the scent of his monster chicken. Adom tracked the sound, waiting until it was just past the entrance. Whatever it was, it was small. Maybe he could end this quickly, without-

He launched himself forward, spell at the ready, but his body locked up mid-strike. White fur. Black eyes that didn’t quite focus. A familiar face contorted in a very unfamiliar snarl.

”Valiant?”

The mousekin didn’t respond, at least not in any way that made sense. His usually clever eyes were clouded, feral. Berserker state - when reason peeled away and left nothing but ancient instincts. Adom had seen it before in other beastkin, a common trait all of them shared.

The mouse-man lunged, teeth bared, claws extended. Adom didn’t think, just reacted, focusing a point of gravity downward. It didn’t take much - berserker or not, Valiant still had the mass of a mousekin. The berserker hit the ground with a surprised squeak, pinned but still thrashing.

”Valiant, come back to your senses!” Adom muttered, maintaining the gravity point while he tried to figure out how to snap the beast out of it.

Valiant was a mess. Cuts and scrapes covered his white fur, some fresh enough to still be bleeding, others crusted over with dirt and grime. Foam gathered at the corners of his mouth as he thrashed against the gravity point, mixing with what looked like blood. His words came out garbled, switching between half-formed sentences and squeaks that grew more desperate by the second.

Adom winced. There was only one way to deal with berserker state, and it wasn’t gentle. You had to knock them out completely - anything less and the feral side would keep fighting. He pulled back his fist, ”Sorry about this.”

The first punch made Valiant’s head snap to the side. The second one finally silenced him, his small form going limp against the cave floor. Adom held his breath, listening for any signs that the commotion had drawn attention. Nothing but the usual ambient sounds of the dungeon.

”How in the hell did you survive this long?” he whispered to the unconscious mouse, releasing the gravity point. No offense to Valiant, but even at full strength, this place should have eaten him alive days ago.

Good for him.

Adom slumped back against the cave wall, retrieving his abandoned monster chicken wing. Steam still rose from the meat as he took another bite, eyes fixed on Valiant’s unconscious form. The mouse beastkin’s chest rose and fell steadily, the only peaceful thing about him right now.

A few minutes later, the chunk of meat he’d been working on was finally finished - amazing how hunger could make you forget your manners. He’d eaten most of it with his hands like some savage, but then again, there wasn’t exactly anyone conscious to judge him. His mana reserves were still uncomfortably low from the flight and the fight with the chicken. Not dangerous yet, but not where he’d want them to be if something decided to investigate the earlier commotion.

Time to fix that.

He wiped his hands on his robe - it was already a lost cause anyway - and settled into a cross-legged position. The stone floor was cold and hard beneath him, but he’d meditated in worse places.

Adom closed his eyes, letting his mind drift.

The beach materialized around him. His visualization of it during his meditation moments had become more and more detailed. It was a good sign. The more real your ’inner world’ felt, the more efficient your meditation would be.

He sat alone. Just the warmth of the sun on his skin and the gentle breeze in his hair.

White sand shifted between his toes. Waves rolled in and out, leaving foam patterns on the shore. The salt-heavy air carried hints of tropical flowers from the tree line. Seagulls circled overhead, their cries mixing with the endless rhythm of the surf. Small crabs darted across the sand, disappearing into tiny holes.

His safe space.

He’d go back there someday, hopefully. The thought floated through his mind like driftwood on the waves.

The mana started flowing, his body lifting slightly off the cave floor. Energy churned in his core, spreading through his limbs-

”Mage?”

Adom sighed, the beach fading away. When he opened his eyes, Valiant was sitting there, gingerly touching the bruises on his jaw and head.

”Hello, Valiant.”

Valiant’s whiskers twitched, nose wrinkling as he sniffed the air. His eyes landed on the remains of the giant chicken.

”What... happened?” His voice was rough. ”Last thing I remember was running from something in the dark, and then-” He winced, touching his jaw again. ”Did you hit me?”

”Twice,” Adom said, settling back down as his feet touched the ground. ”You were in berserker state. Foaming at the mouth and everything. Had to knock you out before you hurt yourself. Or me.”

”Oh.” Valiant touched his bruised jaw again, ears drooping.

”How did you even find me?” Adom asked, genuinely curious. He’d been careful about concealing his position.

”I don’t... remember much of what happened, but...” Valiant’s nose twitched again. ”I could smell you.”

Adom raised an eyebrow.

”Not like that!” Valiant’s whiskers bristled. ”I mean- like I told you before, it’s your magic. Well, mana signature, technically. You have a specific...” he gestured vaguely with his paw, searching for words.

”How strong is it?”

Valiant sniffed the air thoughtfully. ”Not much, actually. It’s weird - everything’s kind of... muddled in here? Like trying to hear through water. But I could still follow it. Sort of.”

Something clicked in Adom’s mind. Helios had known he was a mage the moment they’d met, hadn’t even hesitated. If Valiant could track mana signatures this easily, even through his precautions... The vampire could probably find him anytime he-

”Is that chicken?” Valiant interrupted, eyes fixed on the remains of the earlier fight.

”Tried to eat me earlier. Returned the favor.” Adom nudged what was left of the meat with his foot. ”It’s safe to eat, if you’re hungry. Which, by the look of you, you probably are.”

Valiant’s nose twitched rapidly as he crept toward the chicken. He reached for a smaller piece, hesitated, then looked at Adom.

”How are we here? In a dungeon, I mean.” His paw still hovered over the meat, waiting for permission.

”You don’t remember?” Adom watched him carefully. ”The transport crystal, Marco...” He paused. ”Cisco?”

Valiant’s paw froze mid-reach. His eyes widened, pupils contracting to pinpoints. Adom tensed, magic at the ready, watching for any sign of that berserker rage returning.

But Valiant just let out a small, sharp breath. ”I-” His voice cracked. He grabbed the chicken piece, tore into it with mechanical movements. ”Right. That happened.”

His teeth worried at the meat, but his eyes were distant, seeing something else. Something worse. His breathing came faster, shorter.

”He was right there.” The words tumbled out between bites. ”Right there, and I couldn’t- I should have-” He stuffed more chicken in his mouth, chewing furiously. ”Marco, he just- and Uncle Cisco-”

The meat dropped from his trembling paws. Valiant started laughing. It wasn’t a good sound.

Adom remained still, one hand hidden in his robes. The urge to say something sat heavy in his chest. But what could he say? ’Sorry about your uncle’ felt hollow. ’It’ll get better’ was probably a lie. Sometimes silence was the only gift you could give someone.

”Sorry,” Valiant said, still laughing, the sound edging toward hysteria. ”Sorry, I’m just- I’m fine. I’m fine. I just need to- I need to find Marco. Make him pay. That’s all. Just need to-”

The laughter cut off abruptly. Valiant’s breath hitched once, twice. He grabbed another piece of chicken, shoving it in his mouth like he was trying to stop whatever was trying to come out.

Adom kept his silence, but shifted slightly closer - close enough to intervene if needed, far enough to give space. It was a horrible experience. The desperate scramble to find purpose before grief could swallow you whole.

After a while, Valiant’s breathing steadied. He wiped his mouth with the back of his paw. ”Do you know how to get out of here?”

”I... have a few ideas.”

”We might die, won’t we?”

We?

Adom paused, the word echoing in his mind. That was awkward...

Valiant had just automatically included himself in the equation. Any other time, Adom would have shut that down immediately - another person meant another variable, another potential problem, another life to worry about.

But how do you tell someone who just lost their close family member that you don’t want them around?

”Of course,” he said instead, wondering if he’d regret this later.

”What’s the pl-”

”Maybe eat and sleep first,” Adom cut in. ”I’ll explain everything tomorrow.”

Valiant fell quiet, his tail curling around his feet. After a moment, he glanced up. ”You going to be floating again?”

”Got a problem with that?”

”No, it’s... nice.” Valiant’s whiskers twitched. ”The glow reminds me of my old room. Uncle Cisco used to put this crystal lamp thing in it. You know, those ones that pulse and swirl? Said it helped cubs sleep better.”

Adom said nothing, just watched as Valiant’s eyes grew heavier.

”He was my last relative, you know?” Valiant’s voice wavered.

”Ah. I didn’t know.”

”Don’t be sorry though.” His tail flicked. ”I’ll get Marco anyway. Make him pay for what he...” A yawn interrupted his words. ”What he did to...”

Valiant’s head drooped, then jerked back up. He blinked slowly, tried to continue speaking, but his words slurred together. Within seconds, his chin dropped to his chest, and soft snores filled the cave.

The fire crackled, casting dancing shadows on the wall. Adom watched the sleeping beastkin, replaying their conversation in his mind. The convenient mentions of being alone, the childhood memory that just happened to involve light like Adom’s magic, the way he’d made sure to seem vulnerable yet determined...

Did he just emotionally manipulate me?

Adom’s eyes narrowed. If that was intentional...

Well played. Adom chuckled. Well played indeed.

*****

Time passed in the cave. Enough for Adom to get some rest.

Until a mana string quivered, yanking him from sleep. His eyes snapped open, body already moving before his mind fully caught up. How long had he been out? A few hours, maybe?

”Valiant,” he whispered, lunging toward the sleeping form. When the beastkin didn’t stir, Adom’s hand hesitated mid-shake. Would waking him even help? Against whatever was out there...

A low growl echoed through the darkness.

Eyes appeared in the shadows - first one pair, then another, and another. Red pinpricks of light reflecting the dying embers of their fire. The growls grew louder, more numerous, until they seemed to come from everywhere at once.

Dire Wolves. Three times bigger than an average wolf. Five times stronger. Because of course it had to be.

Adom settled into a fighting stance, the Golem Knight materializing from his inventory at his side. His heart thundered in his chest, each beat a reminder that he was very much alive and would prefer to stay that way.

It felt so... natural. When had this become normal? When had combat started feeling as familiar as reading a book?

The largest wolf stepped into the firelight, saliva dripping from fangs as long as daggers.

Okay, Adom thought, raising his fists, I guess this is my life now.

The largest Dire Wolf lunged first - they always did. Adom’s [Flow Prediction] screamed at him to move left, but his body was a half-second too slow. Amateur boxer versus predator. His fist connected with matted fur as the wolf’s teeth grazed his shoulder.

[+1 White Wyrm Body]

It was a graze, yes, but, he did not feel it as much as he thought he would.

”Golem!” The construct swung its flaming sword in a wide arc, buying Adom precious space. Five wolves. No, seven. All above level 14. The darkness in the dungeon kept shifting, making counting impossible.

Another wolf darted in from his blind spot. Adom threw up a hasty barrier spell - the simplest one he knew, just compressed air. The wolf slammed into it with enough force to shatter his defense, but it bought him time to sidestep.

Boxing won’t work, his mind raced. Their heads are too thick for straight punches, and they’re too high for proper hooks.

The Golem was holding three wolves at bay, its flaming sword keeping them cautious. But two more were circling behind it, and Adom could see their strategy forming. These weren’t mindless beasts - they were hunters.

A wolf snapped at his legs. Adom channeled Fluid into his muscles and jumped, higher than humanly possible. ”[Push]!” The spell sent him backward, away from snapping jaws. His landing was clumsy, but he managed anyway.

[+6 White Wyrm Body]

”Need to thin them out,” he muttered, watching the pack’s movements. The wolves were adapting, learning. Each attack was more coordinated than the last.

Adom threw a quick fireball - not to kill, but to separate two wolves working together. One yelped, fur singed, but both just got angrier. Their next attack came faster, more vicious.

Teeth clamped onto his arm. [White Wyrm Body] kept the fangs from puncturing deep, but the pressure was excruciating.

[-3 Life Force]

[+16 White Wyrm Body]

Adom’s boxing training kicked in - not the punches, but the footwork. He twisted with the bite, using the wolf’s own momentum to throw it off balance.

”[Lightning]!” The shout left his lips before he could second-guess himself. As a mage in the middle of combat, every drop of mana was precious - run out, and you were dead. No spells meant no defense, and no defense meant dinner for whatever found you first. He’d been carefully rationing his power with smaller spells, but sometimes survival trumped efficiency. If the energy attracted more visitors... well, that was tomorrow’s problem.

A crack of electricity hit the wolf point-blank. It released him with a howl, but two more took its place.

The Golem was taking damage now, deep gashes in its remaining arm. Poor fellow. Its sword swings were slowing. They were being worn down, piece by piece.

A cold certainty settled in Adom’s gut. Traditional combat wouldn’t work. He needed something else, something...

His eyes caught the cave ceiling.

”I am not dying here,” he whispered. [Flow Prediction] activated, showing him patterns in the wolves’ movements. They were pushing them deeper into the cave. Standard pack tactics - corner the prey.

Perfect.

Adom backed up further, letting them think their strategy was working.

[Wind Barrier]

A hemisphere of compressed air formed around him and the Golem. The wolves slammed against it, testing for weaknesses.

He placed his palms against the cave wall. This would cost some mana. ”Golem, overhead swing, full power, now!”

Stolen story; please report.

The construct obeyed, its flaming sword arcing upward with all its remaining strength.

”[Push]! [Push]! [PUSH]!” Three rapid-fire spells hit the ceiling where the sword struck.

Rock cracked. Then splintered. Then fell.

The cave entrance collapsed in a thunderous cascade of stone and dust.

[You have slain 2 Dire Wolves!]

Two wolves were crushed instantly. Three more scrambled backward, barely escaping. The remaining ones were cut off from their pack, trapped inside with Adom.

His barrier flickered and died. Two Dire Wolves remained in the cave with them, and now they were desperate. Desperate was dangerous.

The Golem’s sword arm hung limp, nearly severed. Adom could hardly use a powerful spell at the in a closed space.

Both wolves attacked simultaneously. No more testing, no more tactics. Pure survival fury.

Adom’s [Flow Prediction] saw both attacks coming, but he could only dodge one. He chose the wolf on the left, took the hit from the right.

Teeth sank into his thigh as he drove his elbow down into the left wolf’s eye.

”Argh! You son of a-”

[-23 Life Force]

[+56 White Wyrm Body]

The Golem slammed its broken body into the right wolf, giving Adom a precious second to think.

One last play.

He grabbed the wolf’s snout, accepting the cuts as its teeth tore at his hands. [Flow Prediction] showed him exactly where to place his feet. The boxing training guided his hips and shoulders, even as his mind screamed that this wasn’t how you were supposed to fight wolves.

Adom twisted, using his Fluid-enhanced strength. The wolf’s own bite force worked against it as he wrenched its head sideways. The crack was loud in the enclosed space.

[You have slain 1 Dire Wolf!]

The last wolf backed away, hackles raised, realizing too late that cornering prey sometimes meant cornering yourself.

The Golem’s sword burst into flames one final time.

”Wai-!”

The wolf - too fast, too desperate - slipped past the flaming blade. [Flow Prediction] lit up Adom’s mind like lightning, showing him exactly what was about to happen.

Time didn’t actually slow down - that would be too good. The skill just let him process information faster, see patterns clearer. But his muscles, his reflexes, they all still moved at normal human speed. The gap between knowing and doing became a special kind of torture.

Zero-point-three seconds until impact. Most probably.

The wolf’s jaws gaped wide, strands of saliva stretching between yellowed fangs. Adom’s body was already pivoting, but he did the math - he’d clear maybe half the distance he needed to avoid those teeth. His throat would be torn out in another zero-point-two seconds.

Zero-point-one-

Only then did he notice it. Maybe it was because he saw his death coming, and had not paid attention, or maybe it just came from his blind spot.

A blur was dropping from above.

Something white and small, wielding what looked like a broken femur. Valiant drove the makeshift weapon into the wolf’s eye socket with his entire body weight behind it.

It was already a difficult sight, but in slow motion...

The bone punched through the gelatinous orb with a wet pop, driving deep into the brain cavity. The beast’s trajectory shattered, its killing lunge transforming into a spasm of agony mere inches from Adom’s exposed throat.

The wolf thrashed wildly, blood and yellow-white fluid streaming from its ruined socket, mixing with brain matter that leaked around the improvised weapon. Its howls of agony echoed off the cave walls, the sound primal and wet. Adom didn’t think - couldn’t think. ”Give it to me!” His hand shot out. The Golem, fulfilling the will of its master, tossed its sword.

Fluid surged through Adom’s arms as he swung. The blade bit deep into the wolf’s neck, catching on the thick muscle and sinew, before grinding against vertebrae. Hot arterial blood sprayed across his face, his chest, the metallic taste filling his mouth. The wolf’s screams turned into a gurgling wheeze, pink foam bubbling from its jaws. Its legs kicked wildly, razor claws scrabbling against stone, leaving deep grooves in their wake.

Not dead. Not dead enough.

Adom wrenched the sword free with a sound like meat being torn from bone and swung again.

This time the head separated cleanly, toppling to the ground with a meaty thunk.

The dead eye still twitched, jaws snapping reflexively at nothing. The massive body collapsed, arterial blood pumping out in diminishing spurts from the ragged stump of its neck, painting the cave floor in expanding pools of blood. The smell of which filled the air, mixing with the stink of voided bowels.

[You have slain 1 Alpha Dire Wolf!]

Adom’s legs gave out. He slumped against the cave wall, sword clattering from trembling fingers. His heart hammered so hard he could feel it in his throat, each beat sending fresh waves of someone else’s blood trickling down his face. The salty, metallic taste lingered on his tongue, making his stomach roll.

He kept replaying those final moments in perfect clarity - the wolf’s jaws, the distance, the math. Point-three seconds. Point-two. Point-one. He’d seen his own death coming with mathematical precision, had time to understand exactly how it would feel when those teeth tore through his throat.

A hysterical laugh bubbled up from his chest, quickly morphing into what might have been a sob. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. The adrenaline crash hit him like a physical blow, leaving him light-headed and nauseous. Every breath felt too shallow, too quick.

He wiped at his face, succeeding only in smearing the blood further. The wolf’s head lay nearby, its remaining eye still staring at him, accusing. If Valiant hadn’t... if he’d been just a fraction of a second slower...

His stomach heaved. Adom barely managed to turn aside before bringing up what was left of the monster chicken. The cave spun around him, the stench of blood and death suddenly overwhelming. He caught himself with one hand, throat burning, and forced himself to take deeper breaths.

Get it together, he thought. You’re not dead. Focus on that. You’re not dead.

Valiant stumbled over, his white fur stained red. ”Holy shit,” he wheezed, dropping the broken femur. ”Holy actual shit.”

Adom managed a weak nod, still trying to get his breathing under control.

”That was...” Valiant’s whiskers twitched rapidly, nose working overtime. ”That was really close. Like, really, really close.” His paws were shaking almost as badly as Adom’s hands. ”I thought- when it lunged at your throat, I just-” He made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a squeak.

”Nice timing,” Adom croaked, finally trusting himself to speak. ”With the... bone thing.”

”Yeah, well.” Valiant’s tail wrapped tightly around his legs. ”Figured I owed you for the punch earlier.”

They sat in silence for a moment, both staring at the carnage around them. The collapsed entrance had trapped them with the bodies of their kills, and the smell was getting worse.

”We should...” Adom pushed himself up, using the wall for support. ”We need to move. That fight wasn’t quiet, and the collapse...” He glanced at the cave-in. ”Everything in range probably heard it.”

Valiant’s ears twitched at some distant sound. ”Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” He stood, grimacing at his blood-soaked fur. ”North?”

”North.”

*****

[Time remaining: 30 days, 23 hours, 12 min]

”Are we there yet?”

”No, Valiant. We’re not.”

A few minutes of blessed silence passed. The only sounds were their footsteps echoing through the dark corridor and the occasional distant screech of something best left undisturbed.

”...How about now?”

”Valiant.” Adom pinched the bridge of his nose. ”That’s the thirtieth time you’ve asked. I’ve been counting.”

”Oh.” Valiant’s ears drooped. ”Am I annoying you?”

”A little bit, yes.”

”I’ll shut up then.”

”That would be appreciated.”

The tunnel stretched endlessly ahead, its walls covered in a film of phosphorescent moss that cast everything in a sickly green glow. They’d been walking for three hours, keeping to the smaller passages and avoiding the main paths and open fields where larger predators usually hunted. Ever since the wolf incident, Adom was constantly on high alert, but they couldn’t afford to rest. Not here. Not with what he’d started noticing about the dungeon’s patterns.

Despite the absence of sun or moon in these depths, there was a definite rhythm to the monster activity - almost like a day-night cycle. The phosphorescent moss would dim slightly, the more aggressive creatures would emerge, and the dungeon itself seemed to become more... hostile. It was fascinating, really. Nothing in what he read had mentioned this particular dungeon having such behavioral patterns. He’d have to document it later, assuming they survived long enough for him to write it down.

Right now though, his priority was getting them somewhere defensible before the ”night” phase began. The last thing they needed was to be caught in the open when the really nasty specimens came out to hunt.

They’d already fought through two groups of lesser ghouls and circumvented what looked like a nest of crawler wasps.

If they maintained this pace-

Pop

Adom side eyed Valiant. He kept walking. Choosing to remain silent.

Pop

Valiant had this bad habit of making these strange noises with his mouth every time he was not talking.

Adom’s eye twitched, but he forced himself to focus. The next junction should lead to-

Pop

Murder. Adom’s thoughts drifted to murder. They were in a dungeon. Nobody would ever know. He could say it was a trap, or-

Pop

A long, suffering groan escaped his throat.

”Oh,” Valiant perked up. ”Am I irritating you again?”

”Are you doing this on purpose?”

”Not at all! It’s just...” The beastkin fidgeted with his tail. ”I can’t help it. If I don’t talk for too long, I start going a bit... you know.”

”No, I don’t know.”

”Berserk.”

Adom stopped walking. ”What?”

”Yeah, it’s a condition.” Valiant nodded sagely, as if this explained everything. ”Something about my own family. We’re very social people, you see. Need constant interaction. If we stay quiet too long...” He made an explosion gesture with his hands. ”Boom. Total meltdown. Start climbing walls, speaking in tongues, the whole package.”

”That’s... not a real thing.”

”Oh, it absolutely is! Had an uncle once, tried meditation. Complete disaster. They found him three days later, fighting street cats. And he was winning, too. Until he wasn’t. The vile creatures bit his tail off.”

Adom stared at his companion for a long moment. ”You’re making this up.”

”Am I though?” Valiant tilted his head. ”Are you willing to take that chance? In here?” He gestured at the dungeon around them. ”With me?”

They stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills, while somewhere in the distance something large and hungry roared.

Finally, Adom’s shoulders slumped in defeat. ”Fine. Talk. But if you ask ’are we there yet’ one more time...”

”Wouldn’t dream of it!” Valiant bounced happily beside him. A few seconds passed. ”So... how much further?”

Adom’s hand twitched.

And so they walked. And walked. And walked some more.

Occasionally they’d press themselves against walls or duck into alcoves as something slithered or prowled past their position. Once, they spent nearly an hour crammed into a narrow crevice while what sounded like an entire herd of something with too many legs thundered by.

”That was fun,” Valiant had whispered after, picking stone dust out of his fur.

They took breaks when they had to - quick stops to catch their breath or check their bearings. During one such rest, Valiant actually fell asleep standing up, face-planting into Adom’s back. Neither of them mentioned it afterwards.

The tunnel grew progressively wider as they continued, the moss-light becoming brighter, then dimming, then brightening again in irregular patterns. They passed several cave-ins, old corpses, and what looked like abandoned camp sites - silent testimonies to previous adventurers’ attempts at survival.

After what felt like an eternity of walking, ducking, hiding, and more walking, the tunnel simply ended. No branching paths, no hidden doorways - just a vast field of dead, grey grass that stretched as far as they could see in the dim light. Small pebbles and broken bits of stone littered the ground, crunching under their feet with each step. The sky was bright purple, filled with constellations.

”Well, that’s anticlimactic,” Valiant said.

Adom scanned the area, eyes narrowing. The space was quite exposed. No cover, no defensive positions, nothing but open ground in all directions.

”Should we head back?” Valiant’s voice carried across the dead field.

Adom’s fingers tapped against his leg as he considered. The faint sounds from behind them - scraping, clicking, something moving in the darkness - were getting closer. ”Let’s go. We’ll rest at the next safe zone.” He kept his voice low. ”Something’s either tracking us or getting too close for comfort. Just look around for danger, and be ready to run for your life.”

”Can’t you just carry me? I’m tiny.”

”Valiant.”

”Okay, okay. I was just joking! Damn.”

Adom rolled his eyes as Valiant kept side glancing at him as they continued.

”Out with it.” He finally said.

”So...” Valiant chuckled. ”Is your real name Law?”

”No.”

”Then what is it?”

”I’d like to keep it that way.”

”Oh, come on!” Valiant’s tail swished in agitation. ”We’re in a dungeon together! Fighting monsters, shedding blood-”

”I’ve done most of the work.”

”I saved your life from that wolf though.”

”Fair enough.” Adom sighed. ”But I’m also letting you tag along. And don’t think I didn’t notice your calculated display of pitiful helplessness to ensure I wouldn’t refuse.”

”Anyway!” Valiant cleared his throat loudly while laughing awkwardly. ”The fact is, we’re basically brothers now-”

”No. Absolutely not. Don’t even sta-”

”For real though! Two warriors, forged in battle, facing death together in the depths of a dungeon!” His voice took on a theatrical tone. ”Standing back-to-back against the horrors of the deep! And you won’t even tell your brother-in-arms your true name? That’s cold, man. That’s really cold.”

Adom opened his mouth to respond, but something made him freeze. A slight shift in the air pressure. A sound, so faint it might have been imagination - like massive wings displacing air, far above. A shadow, barely noticeable, passing over the moss-light.

His instincts screamed. ”Watch ou-”

Something slammed into him from above. The world spun. His stomach lurched as his feet left the ground, wind rushing past his ears. Pain exploded across his shoulders where massive talons dug in.

[-67 Life force]

[+102 White Wyrm Body]

Adom screamed.

”Don’t worry, I will kill the beast!”

Valiant’s voice cut through his pain-hazed mind. What the- When had he-

He caught a glimpse of movement below him. The beastkin was climbing up his body like a ladder, face set in fierce determination, blood-splattered fur gleaming in the starlight.

”Valiant, what the fuck are you-”

Wind screamed past his ears. Blood loss made everything swim. Each wing beat sent fresh waves of agony through his shoulders, and the constant spinning motion had his stomach trying to crawl up his throat.

[Identify]

[Giant Storm Harpy - Level 25]

Oh, he knew this one. Known for carrying prey to great heights before fucking dropping them.

The creature’s wingspan stretched wider than a house. Its talons, currently buried in his shoulders, were the size of short swords.

Something warm pressed against his leg. Valiant was... still climbing him? The idiot was actually trying to reach the harpy.

”I’ll bite its legs off!” The wind nearly drowned out Valiant’s words.

Adom tried to yell ”Stop,” but another wave of pain sent him gagging. The world kept fading in and out. Too much blood loss. Too much height. His chest tightened at the endless purple void below. Or was it above?

Anyways.

[Indomitable Will has activated]

The fear didn’t vanish, but his mind sharpened. He forced himself to look down, past his feet, past the blood drops falling like rain. They were moving north, following the curve of... was that water in the distance? Too dark to tell.

Valiant’s teeth sank into one of the harpy’s toes. The creature screeched, head snapping down toward them, beak gleaming like a sword.

”No- Valiant, stop!”

The harpy’s head dove for them. Adom’s hands came up through the pain. Fire gathered in his palm as the massive beak descended.

”[Fireball]!”

The spell caught the harpy full in the face. Flesh and bone exploded. The creature’s scream cut off in a wet gurgle.

Then they were falling.

Wind howled past them as they plummeted. The harpy’s corpse started to roll, its remaining wing catching air. Adom grabbed what was left of its leg, trying to guide their descent. His other hand stretched out, pushing against the air with wind magic, fighting to slow them down.

”Hold on!” He wasn’t sure if Valiant could even hear him.

[You have slain Giant Storm Harpy - Level 25]

The water was getting closer. He pulled harder on the corpse, trying to angle their fall. The surface rushed up to meet them like a black mirror under the strange stars.

Please be deep enough, he thought.

It wasn’t deep enough.

The water’s surface rushed up, dark and flat. Adom’s mind raced through options, discarding them as fast as they came. No time for complex spells. No time for-

”[Wind Push]!” He twisted his hand in a sharp gesture, creating a cushion of dense air just above the water.

They hit the barrier at an angle. The impact rattled his teeth, but the spell turned their deadly plummet into a wild skid across the surface. Water sprayed up around them as they rolled, tumbled, spun. The harpy’s corpse broke free, vanishing into the darkness with a massive splash.

Adom’s shoulders screamed as he tried to control their slide. Another quick wind spell helped him stay above water, skimming across it like a stone until their momentum died.

He finally sank into the water with a gasp. It reached his thighs, warm and stagnant. Mist curled around him, thick enough to blur anything more than ten feet away.

”Valiant?” His voice came out rough. Blood from his shoulders turned the water pink around him. ”Valiant!”

”I’m alri- AARGH!”

”What’s going on?!”

Adom sloshed toward the sound, each step sending spikes of pain through his shoulders.

”Where are y- Whoa!” His foot caught on something underwater. He pitched forward, face-planting into the murk.

Don’t swallow, don’t swallow, he thought, keeping his mouth shut. His hand touched the bottom, searching for purchase to push himself up.

Then Adom’s fingers met something soft. Spongy. Wrong.

He opened his eyes in the murky water. A face stared back at him. A human face. Bloated, grey-green, skin sloughing off in patches. Empty eye sockets gaped at him. The lips had rotted away, revealing a permanent grin of yellowed teeth.

No!

[Push]

He launched himself out of the water, landing hard on a raised bit of ground. His stomach heaved as he coughed up water, trying to scrub the feeling of dead flesh from his hands.

”There are dead people here,” Valiant called from somewhere in the mist. ”Like, a lot of them.”

”Yeah.” Adom spat, still gagging. ”I noticed.”

Thinking again, it wasn’t really that surprising. Of course there were corpses here. They were getting closer to whatever waited at the end of this place. These were the adventurers who came before, who didn’t make it.

His tongue pressed against his teeth, trying to get rid of the taste. He needed to spit out whatever had gotten in his mouth when he fell. His hand moved up automatically, then froze. The same hands that had torn through rotting flesh like wet paper.

”God.” His stomach lurched again. The image of that face wouldn’t leave - the empty sockets, that permanent grin. He shuddered, wiping his hands frantically against his clothes.

Valiant emerged from the mist, fur dripping. Around them, the water stretched out like a dead sea. Shapes bobbed just beneath the surface - arms, legs, faces frozen in their last moments. Weapons and armor glinted dully in the starlight, still clinging to their long-dead owners.

A helmeted head drifted past, empty eye slots staring up at the purple sky.

Adventurer gear. Weapons. Supplies. Things they desperately needed.

His father’s voice echoed in his head, lectures about honor and dignity. But honor wouldn’t keep them alive down here.

”We need to search the bodies,” Adom said, watching the head slowly spin in the current. ”See what we can salvage.”

Valiant’s jaw dropped. ”You want us to rob dead people? In this creepy-ass water? With their... their faces all...” He gestured wildly at a nearby corpse. ”All mushy and stuff?”

”They’re already dead, Valiant,” Adom replied, grimly.

”Yeah, and I’d like to stay un-dead, thank you very much.” Valiant backed away from a floating arm. ”What if they wake up? What if they grab us? What if-””They won’t.” Adom forced himself to look at the nearest corpse. Its leather armor was still largely intact. Might even be something useful in those pouches. ”They’re just... dead. And we need supplies.”

The words tasted as foul as the water. But they were true. His shoulders throbbed, reminding him how close they’d come to joining these bodies.

”Besides,” he added, ”they were adventurers. They’d understand.”

”Oh, they’d understand? That’s great. Hey dead people, don’t mind us, just going through your pockets because you’d totally get it- SWEET MOTHER OF-” Valiant jumped back as his paw brushed against something near the water. ”That was a face. That was definitely a face.”

Adom took a deep breath, immediately regretted it as the smell of decay hit him, and waded toward the corpse in leather armor. Just don’t think about it. Don’t think about the way the flesh feels. Don’t think about-

The pouch squished under his fingers.

”I hate this dungeon,” he muttered. ”I hate it so much.”

Adom winced as he pulled the soggy pouch open. Several vials clinked against each other inside, their contents still glowing faintly.

”What’d you find?” Valiant called, still keeping his distance from the nearest corpse.

”Potions. White, red, blue.” Adom uncorked the red one, gritting his teeth as he poured it over his shoulders. The liquid hissed and steamed where it touched his wounds.

”Uh, should it be doing that? Maybe it’s gone bad?”

”It’s fine. Well-made potions last centuries.” The burning sensation intensified, then slowly faded. He could feel his flesh knitting together, blood vessels sealing themselves shut. The pain dulled to a manageable ache.

He uncorked the blue potion next. The liquid fizzed on his tongue, sweet and sharp like berries mixed with apple. Or at least it tastes as such. Tiny bubbles popped as they went down his throat, each one releasing a burst of energy that raced through his system. Grade-A mana restoration - someone hadn’t spared any expense on these. His reserves filled with each effervescent swallow, magic tingling through his veins like liquid electricity.

[+100 Mana] Valiant cleared his throat. ”Any chance I could get a sip of that?”

”It’s mana restoration.” Adom touched his chest, resisting the urge to burp from the potion. ”Can you use mana or Fluid?”

”...fair enough.”

Adom waded through the water, examining the equipment scattered around them. Plenty of swords, but he’d just end up hurting himself. Most of the armor was either too big or too rusted to be useful. Though...

He picked up a pair of metal gauntlets from different sets. The joints were still good. With some modification, he could turn them into weighted knuckles. Something to give his punches more impact.

”Hold these,” he told Valiant, who reluctantly accepted the dripping gauntlets.

A nearby corpse wore leg armor that looked closer to his size. It was a woman’s. The greaves were salvageable, at least. As he worked them free, trying not to think about the sensation, his hand brushed against something else.

”Oh hey, that helmet might actually fit you,” Valiant said, then added, ”Though you might want to dump out whatever’s still inside it first.”

”Thanks for that mental image.” Adom turned the helmet over, letting the water drain out. ”Keep looking for anything useful. Small items, daggers maybe. Nothing too heavy.”

”Yeah, sure, I’ll just go shopping in the corpse market. No big deal. Totally normal Tuesday.” Valiant gingerly picked his way between bodies. ”You know, when I imagined adventuring, this was not in the brochure.”

After a while...

”Hey, I found something!” Valiant’s voice carried through the mist, followed by a splash and a muffled ”ew ew ew.”

Adom looked up from where he was adjusting the greaves. ”What is it?”

”It’s... well, it’s still in the guy’s hand. Like, really in his hand. Like, part-of-his-hand in his hand.” Valiant appeared from the mist, dragging something. ”But look at it! It’s got these weird marks all over it.”

The dagger Valiant had found was unlike anything Adom had seen before. Dark metal with strange, shifting patterns etched into the blade. Even through the grime and water damage, the edge looked impossibly sharp.

”Don’t touch the blade,” Adom said, wading over. The patterns seemed to move when he wasn’t looking directly at them. ”And please tell me you didn’t just pull that out of-”

”Oh, I super did. Made this weird sucking sound and everything. But it’s a magic dagger, right? Has to be worth something.”

Adom reached for it, then hesitated. Something about those markings...

[Identify]

[Dagger of Night’s Edge - Rare

A blade forged with Starfallen Steel. Cuts through metal as easily as flesh.]

”Huh,” Adom said. ”That’s... actually really good.”

”See? Sometimes the creepy option is the right option.” Valiant paused. ”Can we please get out of corpse soup now?”

”Soon,” Adom said, eyeing a massive tower shield leaning against what might have once been a warrior. Perfect for the golem. The shield disappeared into his inventory with a quiet chime.

He moved methodically through the water, trying to ignore the occasional bump against submerged bodies. Four more potion vials clinked in his inventory. A serviceable iron dagger joined them - nothing special, but backup never hurt.

Then he saw the staff.

It was still clutched in its owner’s hands, a robed figure half-submerged in the murky water. Adom gently worked it free, noting how the dead mage’s fingers had frozen around it in a final desperate grip.

[Identify]

[Ashwood Staff - Class A

Core: Ancient ashwood bound with silver

Enhancement: +30% spell weaving efficiency

Runes: Stability (Major), Flow (Minor), Resonance (Minor)

Note: Well-preserved despite environmental damage]

His fingers traced the runes carved into the silver bands. With this, he could weave spells faster, more efficiently. Maybe even-

”Holy shit!” Valiant’s excited yelp shattered his concentration. ”Dude! Look what I found in this guy’s waterproof scroll case!”

”Let me guess it-”

”It’s a map! Like, an actual map of this place!” Valiant waved a leather tube over his head. ”Guy must’ve been mapping as he went down. You know, before he...” He glanced down at the body he’d taken it from. ”...stopped mapping.”

Adom carefully unrolled the waterproof parchment, holding it away from the dripping water. The mapmaker had used different inks - black for walls and passages, red for warnings, blue for water sources. The handwriting was neat, methodical.

”Look,” he said, pointing to their approximate location. ”We’re in the Drowned Commons.”

”Oh great, it has a name.” Valiant peered at the map. ”What are all these symbols?”

The map was marked with various icons - crossed swords for hunting zones, beds for safe rest spots, skull marks for danger areas. Notes were scattered across it: ’SHADOW STALKER NEST - AVOID’, ’WHITE FOREST - TOXIC SPORES’, ’ANT PATROL ROUTE’.

Then Adom saw something that made him pause. A peculiar symbol he’d only seen in ancient texts - a spiraling rune marked in purple ink.

”That’s... that’s an anomaly portal,” he said, almost whispering.

”A what?”

”Emergency exit. They’re incredibly rare. Some dungeons have them - permanent portals that can be activated anytime to escape.” He traced the route with his finger. ”I didn’t know this place had one.”

”That’s good, right? We can just use that to-” Valiant stopped, seeing where the symbol was located. Right next to a large chamber marked ’BOSS LAIR’ in bold red ink.

”Of course,” Valiant sighed. ”It couldn’t just be in the lobby, could it?”

Adom held the map closer to his [Light] spell, studying each path. ”Left route goes through the ’Hunting Grounds.’ Lots of loot markers, but...” He pointed to the notes. ”’High-level beasts. Pack hunters. Bring fire.’”

”Hard pass,” Valiant muttered.

”Middle path...” Adom traced the line with his finger. ”Through the mantis nest. It’s shorter, but there’s this note: ’They hunt by sound. Stay off chitin floor. Lost entire team here.’” He squinted at a hastily drawn diagram. ”Looks like there’s a narrow ledge along the wall we could use.”

”And the right?”

”’Old Quarters.’ Longer route, but...” He studied the mapmaker’s notes. ”’Mostly cleared. Watch for scavengers. Good rest spots in sealed rooms.’” A small diagram showed several safe zones marked with bed symbols.

Valiant peered at the map. ”So our choices are death by monster, death by mantis, or the long way around?”

”With possible rest stops.”

”Which could also be occupied now.”

”Yes.”

”And all these lead to...”

Adom checked the map again. ”The ’Throne Room.’ That’s where the boss is. And the anomaly portal.” His finger tapped the purple spiral symbol. ”Right next to each other.”

”Of course they are,” Valiant sighed. ”Did they say what kind of boss?”

”No. But they drew a massive skull symbol next to it. Then underlined it. And circled it. Twice.”

”Lovely.” Valiant looked down each dark passage. ”So... which flavor of terrible decision are we making today?”

Adom stared at the purple spiral, mind racing. His fingers absently traced the mark. Twenty-five days. A constant reminder of time slipping away.

Without the wyvern’s heart, without the water of jouvance... Even if he got out, could he make the cure in time? Marco might have the ingredients, if he was still alive. If the components hadn’t spoiled. If, if, if.

But first: escape.

He didn’t need to win. Didn’t need to figure out how to kill whatever sat in that throne room. Just needed to reach that portal.

The mantis nest route stared back at him. Shortest path. Highest risk. Would he even be able to keep his balance on that ledge? But the alternative was burning almost three weeks on the ”safe” route, leaving barely enough time to find Marco, gather ingredients, brew the cure...

”We’re taking the middle path.”

Valiant’s laugh was dry as bone. ”Of course we are.”

*****

A few moment prior, in another part of the dungeon...

Hmm hmm hmmmm...

Footsteps echoed through the darkness as a figure moved between shadows in the dungeon.

”Little boy, why do you cry?

Lost your way in darkness deep?

Tell me all your troubles sweet...”

The humming paused. Something skittered in the dark. The figure’s head tilted, listening, then resumed its song in a voice like honey over broken glass.

”...I’ll make sure you go to sleep.”

Drip.

Something wet landed on his cheek. He stopped, one foot hovering mid-step. Long fingers wiped the droplet, held it up to eyes that gleamed amber in the dark.

Sniff

Blood. Fresh. Still warm.

He brought it closer to his nose. The scent hit him - copper and magic and something else. Something familiar.

His tongue darted out, tasting. Ah. Yes.

His lips pulled back, revealing long inhuman fangs. The smile split his face like a wound.

”Oh, little mage...” The words came out in a purr, excitement making his accent thicker. ”I found you.”

Above, in the purple star-filled sky, blood continued to drip. Drop by drop. Like a trail of breadcrumbs, leading the way.

Hmm hmm hmmmm...