Chapter 89: Echoes from the Deep
The underground tunnels beneath the swamp were thick with the suffocating scent of stagnant water, decaying moss, and the faint, metallic tang of monster blood. It wasn't the clean, stone-carved architecture of a high-tier city dungeon; it was a rough, jagged fissure in the earth, slippery with mud and trembling with the oppressive weight of the world above.
Naëlle adjusted the strap of her gear, her boots squelching softly in the mire as she kept pace with the group. Her gaze kept drifting toward the two men leading the way. She was completely turned around on who these people were. Kemi, who usually kept her guard up around strangers, seemed to know them intimately. In fact, the moment they had crossed paths in the dark, the red-haired girl had immediately called the older, sharp-eyed man uncle.
Naëlle stared at the man's back. Uncle? He didn't look old at all. He was clearly in his mid-twenties, sporting an athletic build and a fierce, sharp demeanor that practically screamed combat experience, but he lacked even a single gray hair or wrinkle.
Breaking the heavy silence of the damp cavern, Kemi crossed her arms, a pout forming on her face as she glared at the man's shoulder blades. "I honestly thought you guys abandoned us," she muttered, her voice echoing off the wet stone walls. "We took so long to get back to the bus, and when we finally made it, there was nothing but chaos. I thought you just wrote us off."
The man, Tet Pikan, froze in his tracks. He turned around so fast his cloak whipped through the damp air, his eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and offense.
"Are you completely out of your mind?!" Tet shot back, his voice dropping into a fierce, protective growl. "Why on earth would I leave my only niece to rot in this godforsaken, dangerous swamp? Use your head, Kemi!"
He exhaled a heavy sigh, running a hand through his damp hair to calm his spiking temper. "Look, the reason we got separated in the first place wasn't by choice. That massive Mud Snake struck fast. It didn't give any of us a single second to form up, let alone team up again. It scattered the whole line. But even when I couldn't reach you, I didn't completely panic because I believed in Jean-Daniel and Wilkens. Those two might be blockheads sometimes, but they know how to handle themselves. I trusted them to protect you with their lives."
Rolo, who had been quietly keeping watch near the rear, stepped forward. His face was pale, his eyes darting toward the pitch-black tunnels extending further down into the earth. "Wait... if they were supposed to be protecting her, where are Jean-Daniel and Wilkens now?" he asked, looking directly at Kemi.
"Oh, them?" Kemi waved a hand half-nonchalantly, though her eyes betrayed a lingering spark of awe. "They're deep down below. They're currently fighting the dungeon boss alongside one of their friends."
Tet's brows locked together. He snapped his head toward her, his posture instantly turning rigid. "Alone?! They went into a boss room alone?" He stepped closer, his voice dropping an octave as his hunter instincts flared. "And what Rank is this 'friend' of theirs? To drag two B-Ranks into a deep-zone boss fight without a full raid party, he'd have to be a monster."
Kemi chewed on her lower lip, thinking back to the absurd display of power she had witnessed earlier. "Well... since Jean-Daniel and Wilkens are basically hovering around B-Rank now, judging by what I saw that guy do... I'd say this friend of theirs is probably an S-Rank. Honestly, maybe even higher."
The entire tunnel seemed to drop a few degrees. Rolo let out a soft, strangled gasp, while Tet's face twisted into a deep, skeptical frown.
"Oh, really?" Tet scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "An S-Rank? Floating around a mid-tier swamp dungeon? Kemi, do you have any idea how rare S-Ranks are? What exactly makes you think—"
Kemi opened her mouth, eager to recount the terrifying army of shadow-like summons and the overwhelming pressure she had felt radiating off the young man. But before the first word could leave her lips, Naëlle sharply stepped forward, placing a gentle but firm hand on Kemi's shoulder.
"Kemi!" Naëlle interrupted, her voice strained but polite. "Just... not to be rude, but could you please refrain from telling everyone about Pete's powers right now? I completely understand that this is your uncle, and you trust him, but please do me this favor. Let Pete explain his own abilities himself when we regroup. If that's alright with you."
Tet's eyes snapped from his niece to Naëlle, his protective instincts instantly morphing into raw, aggressive annoyance. He didn't care who this girl was; no one gave his family orders.
"And who exactly are you to be giving my niece orders?" Tet spat, stepping into Naëlle's personal space, his eyes flashing with dangerous A-Rank pressure. "And what's this about her not talking about your boyfriend?"
The word boyfriend hit Naëlle like a physical blow. Her composed, tactical demeanor completely shattered. Her cheeks instantly flushed a deep, violent crimson, and she took a nervous step back, her hands waving frantically in front of her face.
"T-The person who saved her life and healed her injuries, that's who!" Naëlle stammered, her voice pitching up an octave as she tried to reclaim her dignity. She cleared her throat, looking absolutely anywhere but at Tet's piercing glare. "And... and as for the boyfriend part... we are... well, we're still working on it." She finished in a soft mumble, her fingers nervously twirling a strand of her hair as her face practically radiated heat.
Beside them, Kemi's head dropped.
A sudden, complicated wave of emotion washed over the red-haired girl. Truth be told, she found Peterson incredibly handsome. He was strong, mysterious, and possessed a quiet confidence that drew people in. Part of her had been secretly hoping, harboring a tiny crush, and desperately wanting to find out if he and Naëlle were already an official item. Now, she finally had her answer.
But as she stared at the muddy ground, a small, subtle spark re-ignited in her chest. 'They're still working on it,' she repeated mentally. That meant they weren't official yet. There was still a gray area. A tiny, mischievous smile tugged at the corner of Kemi's lips. It didn't mean she couldn't still try, right? As long as nothing was set in stone, she still had a glimmer of hope.
Tet stared at Naëlle's flustered state for a long moment, the aggressive tension slowly draining from his shoulders, replaced by a weary sigh. He rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"Alright, fine. Whatever," Tet muttered, turning back toward the path ahead. "Look, if it were up to me, I'd say let's just pack up and get the hell out of here right now. But we have a massive problem. There's an incredibly angry, high-tier Mud Snake waiting right outside the main entrance. On top of that, we fell through the weakened floor from the level above. We can't just climb back up the way we came; the structural damage is too bad."
He kicked a loose pebble into the darkness, listening to it rattle down a steep incline. "We need to find an alternate, stable route out of this place. And frankly, I'm getting starving and exhausted. My mana reserves aren't exactly full."
Rolo blinked, looking back down the corridor Kemi had pointed to earlier. "So... we're just going to leave? We won't go down there and try to rescue the others?"
Tet snapped. He spun around, his hand coming down hard on Rolo's shoulder, shaking him slightly. "Are you stupid, Rolo?! My main, singular reason for diving back into this death trap was to rescue my niece! Don't forget your own reality—you're still a C-Rank hunter. And even with my A-Rank status, my power alone isn't anywhere near enough to beast that giant snake outside or a deep-zone A-rank dungeon boss. We would need a whole coordinated raid squad to clear this safely. We're in no position to play heroes."
Tet's shout echoed violently through the tight tunnel. Rolo immediately shrunk back, swallowing hard. He went completely quiet, pressing his lips together tightly, realizing he had overstepped. He nodded mutely, indicating he wouldn't ask any more reckless questions.
With the argument settled, the group fell into a grim march, moving cautiously through the winding, damp tunnels to find an alternate ascent. The silence stretched thick and heavy again. Feeling a bit guilty for how harshly her uncle had snapped at the younger hunter, Kemi slowed her pace. She let Tet and Naëlle walk ahead, gradually jogging backward until she was right next to Rolo.
"Hey," Kemi said softly, nudging his shoulder with her own. "Don't worry too much about your friends down there."
Rolo glanced up, his expression guarded and downcast. "Easy for you to say. They're outnumbered down there against a boss."
Kemi gave him a warm, reassuring smile, her eyes bright with absolute certainty. "Trust me. That guy Pete we mentioned earlier? He is more than strong enough to bring them both back here alive. You don't have to worry about a thing."
Rolo stared at her, caught off guard by the sheer, unshakeable confidence in her voice. It wasn't the blind optimism of someone who didn't understand danger; she genuinely believed it as an absolute fact. Slowly, the tension left Rolo's shoulders, and a faint, grateful smile crept onto his face.
Instead of staying at the back, Kemi felt a sudden surge of companionship. She jogged forward, moving right back up to Naëlle's side. Without an ounce of hesitation or awkwardness, she looped her arm right through hers, hugging her arm tightly as if they were childhood best friends who had known each other for a decade. It was a completely natural, comforting gesture born from surviving a near-death experience together. Naëlle didn't even flinch; she simply glanced down, offered a soft, amused smile, and kept walking, accepting the contact as entirely normal.
Walking a few paces ahead, Tet Pikan looked over his shoulder to check on them. When his eyes fell on the sight of Kemi and Naëlle interacting, and the seamless bond forming among the youth, a genuine, rare smile broke through his gruff exterior.
Ever since Kemi's parents had passed away years ago, she had built massive walls around herself. She rarely let anyone in, constantly masking her grief with a tough, standoffish attitude. But seeing her right now—forcing herself to comfort a worried comrade, smiling freely, and finding people she could truly count on—warmed his chest. Maybe this horrific dungeon trip had a silver lining after all.
But the fleeting moment of peace didn't last.
SCREEEEEEEEEECH!
Out of nowhere, a violent, high-pitched shriek tore through the underground cavern. The sound was so agonizingly loud and laden with raw, monstrous malice that it vibrated through the very soles of their boots. Loose dirt, pebbles, and stagnant water rained down from the cracked ceiling as the sound wave echoed over and over through the labyrinthine tunnels.
The entire group locked up.
Tet instantly dropped into a low combat stance, his hand gripping the hilt of his weapon as cold sweat suddenly broke out across his forehead, dripping down his temples. His chest heaved as he stared into the black depths. "What the absolute hell was that?!" he questioned, his voice tight with genuine alarm. "That didn't sound like any normal monster."
While Rolo and Tet looked around in a panic, Naëlle simply stopped, her eyes tracking the fading echoes. Slowly, a brilliantly confident, knowing smile spread across her face.
"I guess they finally found the boss room," Naëlle said, her voice entirely calm, almost cheerful against the backdrop of the terrifying roar.
Deep below, beneath layers of solid bedrock where the air was hot, heavy, and choked with sulfur, Naëlle's casual prediction was playing out with absolute, chaotic precision.
Peterson, Jean-Daniel, and Wilkens stood at the threshold of a massive, cavernous chamber. To get here, they had spent the last hour painting the dungeon tunnels red. The journey down had been nothing short of a brutal, relentless gauntlet. They had faced hundreds upon hundreds of mutated, bloodthirsty creatures—swarms of bloated, blood-sucking ticks the size of watermelons, armored vanguard ants with mandibles sharp enough to shear through steel, and massive, multi-eyed spider beasts that dropped from the ceiling in terrifying clusters.
Yet, despite the overwhelming numbers, the trio hadn't left a single scrap behind. More importantly, they hadn't left a single mana crystal in the dirt.
Whenever a wave of monsters breached the darkness, Peterson didn't even have to lift a finger. With a simple flicker of his thoughts, his dark, ethereal summons—shadowy Ant Soldiers and skeletal warriors—would surge forward like a tide of death, tearing the beasts apart. The moment a monster died, Peterson's summons would systematically extract the glowing mana crystals from the carcasses, and the items would instantly vanish, vacuumed straight into his system inventory.
It was an incredibly broken, efficient grinding method. Normally, a summoner would have to worry about running dry, but Peterson's unique system parameters gave him a ridiculous edge. As long as he maintained a baseline of magic points, he could summon an endless legion. His mana pool possessed a passive regeneration trait that ticked upward slowly every single second. As long as he paced his active casting, his reserves would never bottom out, allowing his shadow army to act as the ultimate automated looting squad.
The sheer volume of the slaughter had yielded massive rewards. After unleashing their hidden potentials and fighting alongside Peterson's overwhelming forces, both Wilkens and Jean-Daniel had watched their status screens flash repeatedly. The intense, high-density combat pushed them over the threshold, and both of them had officially reached Level 5.
Because they were grouped together, the system's party experience-share mechanic was in full effect. A significant portion of the massive experience generated by Wilkens and Jean-Daniel's kills, combined with the absolute genocide Peterson's summons were committing, flowed directly back into Peterson's own system.
A sharp, digital chime rang in Peterson's ears, unhearable to the others, as a glowing blue screen manifested before his eyes.
> [NOTIFICATION: LEVEL UP!]
You have gained a level.
Current Status: Peterson Joseph — Level 27.
Peterson dismissed the screen with a casual blink, feeling the familiar, intoxicating rush of raw power coursing through his veins as his stats adjusted. His muscles tightened, his senses sharpened, and his mana pool expanded even further.
He looked to his left, where Wilkens was wiping a mixture of green monster ichor and sweat from his brow, a fierce grin plastered across his face. He looked to his right, where Jean-Daniel was casually resting his massive, heavy weapon over his shoulder, completely unfazed by the mountain of monster corpses disintegrating into ash behind them.
Then, Peterson turned his gaze straight ahead.
At the far end of the massive chamber, shrouded in thick, pulsing crimson mist, loomed the Dungeon Boss. It was a grotesque, towering amalgamation of chitin, multiple writhing limbs, and glowing, hateful eyes—a creature born from the darkest depths of the swamp's corrupted mana. Sensing the intruders who had slaughtered its entire ecosystem, the boss threw its head back, letting out another deafening, earth-shaking shriek that rattled the cavern walls.
Peterson didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. He just adjusted his stance, a dangerous, thrilled smirk playing on his lips as his dark aura began to bleed off his shadow, pooling around his boots.
"Are you guys ready to absolutely mess this guy up?" Peterson asked, his voice low, steady, and dripping with supreme confidence.
Jean-Daniel let out a booming, hearty laugh, his grip tightening on his weapon. "Ready? Man, 'ready' is my little cousin's middle name!"
Peterson paused, turning his head slightly to give him a flat, thoroughly confused look. "What does that even mean? Who is your little cousin?"
"I have absolutely no idea," Jean-Daniel replied with a loud chuckle, shrugging his massive shoulders. "But you gotta admit, it sounded incredibly cool right before a boss fight."
Wilkens let out a heavy, long-suffering sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It did not sound cool, Jean-Daniel. It sounded like you had a stroke."
Jean-Daniel completely ignored him, his smirk widening into a fierce, battle-hungry grin as he stared down the towering abomination across the room. He pointed the tip of his weapon directly at the pulsing, roaring monster.
"But seriously..." Jean-Daniel muttered, his eyes locking onto the target. "Do you think this boss is even remotely ready for the absolute nightmare that's about to hit him?"
End of Chapter 89