Chương 81: Runesmith (2)

The Melford Kingdom previously known as Edgegard Empire was far more chaotic than I remembered. Streets bustled with life, but there was an edge of desperation to it. The looming dungeon on the outskirts of the capital had a way of pulling people toward it, like moths to a flame. Adventurers came from all over, lured by promises of glory or riches, only to be swallowed whole by its depths.

As for me? I wasn't here for fame or fortune. Beneath the grand facade of this tier-six dungeon—complete with sixty treacherous floors—lay something far more valuable. My old base, buried deep, likely near the fiftieth floor. It had been hidden away for over three centuries. Unlike my previous haunts, this one might have stood the test of time. If it hadn't, well... let's just say the past few months of preparation wouldn't be for nothing.

The tier-six dungeon consists of 60 floors and has been present for 250 years. It contains six bosses, one for every ten floors, each progressively stronger than the last. The final boss on the 60th floor is a lich, who is master-ranked, and he rides a bone dragon, also of master rank. No one has ever conquered this dungeon; to do so, they must defeat the final boss. Many have tried and failed, but now a caravan has formed with the intent to take down the boss. This time, the caravan is led by two master-ranked beings.

I glanced down at my armor. Heavy black plates covered me from head to toe, runes etched into every inch of the dark metal. They weren't just for show. Temperature regulation kept me cool despite the heat of battle. Strength runes allowed me to swing my blade with the force of a raging bull. Blunt resistance saved me from shattering on impact, and the automending rune ensured the armor repaired itself with every fight. Each piece of gear was crafted with care and precision, and it felt like an extension of myself.

Kael padded beside me, his sleek black fur blending into the shadows of the dungeon entrance. My shadow wolf had grown alongside me over the past few months, evolving into an elite beast. His glowing crimson eyes pierced through the gloom, a silent promise of the carnage he was capable of.

"Ready for this, boy?" I asked, crouching to rub his belly.

Kael let out a low growl of satisfaction, his tail thumping against the ground.

"You're the only one who enjoys this grind, aren't you?" I muttered, smirking.

Kael barked in agreement, a mischievous glint in his eyes. I was half convinced he saw the dungeon as some kind of playground—a never-ending buffet of weaker monsters to hunt and devour.

***

The first few floors were a joke. Goblins, kobolds, and other lesser creatures swarmed the narrow corridors, but they were no match for Kael or me. My blade—crafted with my metal manipulation ability—shifted between a sword, spear, and mace with fluid ease. Each swing, thrust, or smash sent monsters sprawling, their cores clattering to the ground.

Cores were valuable in more ways than one. I'd been stockpiling them for six months, grinding day in and day out. Some I used to upgrade my gear, others to trade for supplies or bribe adventurers into joining my expeditions. A handful of cores were even rigged as makeshift explosives—always useful in a pinch.

Kael, for his part, wasn't just along for the ride. His claws sliced through flesh and bone with deadly precision, and his shadow manipulation allowed him to strike from unexpected angles.

One particularly large ogre roared as it charged us, swinging a crude club that could've leveled a building.

"Kael!" I shouted.

He leapt onto the ogre's back, tearing into its neck. The beast flailed, but Kael's grip was unyielding. I took advantage of the distraction, shifting my weapon into a scythe and slicing through the ogre's legs.

The monster toppled with a thunderous crash, and Kael finished it off with a savage bite to the throat.

"Good boy," I said, tossing him a piece of dried meat from my pack.

Kael caught it mid-air, chomping down with a pleased growl.

***

Six months of relentless grinding brought me to the cusp of another breakthrough. The mana in the dungeon was thick and oppressive, but it fueled my progress. As I meditated one night, I felt the familiar surge of power coursing through me.

The air around me seemed to vibrate as mana poured into my body. My shadow wolf howled, his own power growing in tandem with mine. When the process was over, I stood up, feeling the difference immediately.

"SSS+," I murmured, flexing my fingers. The strength in my grip was terrifying.

Kael nudged me with his snout, his eyes glowing brighter than before. He had evolved too, becoming a true force to be reckoned with.

"Looks like we're ready for the next phase," I said, patting his head.

***

By the time I reached the fortieth floor, I realized I needed backup to go any deeper. The monsters below weren't just stronger—they were smarter, more coordinated. I could handle them with Kael's help, but it would take weeks, maybe months.

That's when I stumbled upon the adventurer caravan. Forty people, most of them seasoned fighters, had banded together to conquer the sixtieth floor. Among them were nobles and royals from various kingdoms, their arrogance palpable. Two of them were master-ranked, the rest hovering around SSS+.

They barely glanced at me when I joined, likely assuming I was some mercenary eager for coin. My black armor and silent demeanor made me an enigma, and I preferred it that way.

Kael stuck close to my side, his presence deterring anyone from getting too friendly.

"Nice dog," one of the nobles sneered, a cocky grin on his face.

Kael growled low in his throat, his fangs bared.

"He doesn't bite," I said with a smirk. "Unless you're stupid."

The noble paled and backed off, much to my amusement.

***

The caravan descended deeper into the dungeon, facing increasingly difficult challenges. On the forty-fifth floor, we encountered a pack of wyverns, their scales glinting like polished steel. The battle was chaotic, with fire and lightning raining down from above.

Kael darted through the carnage, his shadows slicing through the wyverns' wings. I shifted my weapon into chains, ensnaring one of the beasts and slamming it into the ground.

By the time the last wyvern fell, the caravan was battered but alive. The nobles and royals began to take notice of me, their haughty attitudes giving way to grudging respect.

"You're not bad," one of the master-ranked adventurers said, a tall man with a scar running down his face.

"Thanks," I replied, sheathing my blade. "But we're not done yet."

At the fiftieth floor, I made my intentions clear.

"I'm stopping here," I told the caravan leader, a woman clad in gleaming silver armor.

She frowned but nodded. "Your loss. The real treasure's at the sixtieth floor."

"I'm not interested in treasure," I said, glancing at Kael. "I've got my own reasons."

The caravan continued without me, their footsteps fading into the distance. I turned to Kael, who wagged his tail expectantly.

"Time to find out if my old base is still here," I said.

Kael barked in agreement, his eyes shining with anticipation.

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