Days had passed since we first ventured into The Damp Abyss—the lowest depths of Deepnest Tunnel.

  Pitch-black darkness engulfed everything. There was no natural light, no glowing crystals, nothing but an oppressive void stretching in every direction. The only thing keeping us from walking blindly into the unknown was Illumne, Darwyn’s light spell, casting a faint yellowish glow around us.

  We had fought countless monsters along the way. The deeper we went, the stronger and more relentless they became. But among them, one stood out as the worst of all—Dreadlurker.

  A deadlier variant of the Grimlurker, this monstrosity was a predator born for the abyss. Its exoskeleton absorbed light itself, making it one with the shadows. In the dim glow of our magic, it was almost invisible. Its pincers, already massive, were now jagged and serrated, coated with a venom so corrosive it could melt through armor and flesh alike.

  But the worst part? The webs.

  Sticky strands covered the tunnels, strung between jagged rocks and ceiling crevices. If even a single step landed in the wrong place, the moment you struggled, it would come.

  Silently. Slowly. Emerging from the darkness.

  And if you locked eyes with it—it was over.

  A cursed hypnosis would settle over its victim, filling them with uncontrollable fear.

  Suddenly—

  "NOOOO!" Muradin’s voice rang through the tunnels as he swung his hammer wildly into the empty air. "GET AWAY! I—I swear I won’t drink again! Just don’t take me!" His usual gruff voice cracked into sheer desperation.

  Elena was worse. Frozen in place. Her lips trembled as she whispered hoarsely, "Brother… help me… I swear, I won’t steal your food again…"

  Their eyes were glazed over, their bodies paralyzed by pure terror.

  Dreadlurker’s shadow slithered behind them. Almost there.

  "Not on my watch!" Orin shouted. She rushed forward, uncorking a potion, and splashed it onto both of them. The concoction sizzled on their skin, breaking the hypnosis instantly.

  Darwyn, already under the effects of Galestride, moved like a blur. In an instant, three arrows shot forward, piercing the Grimlurker’s head and killing it before it could move any further.

  A guttural screech echoed through the tunnels. The Dreadlurker twitched, its exoskeleton cracking, before collapsing into a heap. Dead.

  For a moment, no one spoke.

  Muradin and Elena were still visibly shaken. Their hands trembled, their breaths uneven. They exchanged a quick glance—then immediately looked away, embarrassed.

  "Uh… let’s just keep moving," Muradin grumbled, rubbing the back of his head.

  Elena gave a stiff nod, avoiding eye contact. "Y-yeah. That never happened."

  We pressed on.

  Not long after, the narrow tunnels opened into a vast cavern.

  Unlike the claustrophobic, winding paths we had traversed so far, this place felt almost unnatural. The air was different—less damp, more open. It was as if we had stepped into a forgotten world hidden beneath the abyss.

  I tightened my grip on my weapon.

  "Alright," I muttered, scanning the cavern ahead. "Time to hunt some Diggles."

  ***

  Diggle, a rare and highly valuable monster, could only be found in the depths of the Damp Abyss. Despite finally reaching this elusive area, there were no signs of Diggle, not even for Darwyn, whose keen detection skills were second to none. To lure them out, I carefully scattered Lumincrumbs across several strategic spots before retreating to the others, crouching low, and holding our breaths in complete silence.

  Ten minutes passed. Twenty. Thirty.

  Then, at last—a small, rodent-like creature with a long, twitching snout emerged from the darkness, sniffing curiously at the Lumincrumb. Its beady eyes darted around, cautious yet drawn to the faint glow of the bait. We all tensed, barely daring to breathe, ensuring not even the faintest sound would startle it away.

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  [Galestride casted.]

  A rush of wind accompanied Elena as she shot forward with incredible speed. The Diggle, startled by her sudden approach, let out a sharp squeak before bolting into the shadows—faster than even Elena, our nimblest member, despite her enhanced speed.

  But we didn’t panic. The Diggle had consumed Lumincrumb, leaving behind a faintly glowing trail—a perfect breadcrumb path leading us straight to its burrow.

  “Don’t kill it yet!” I called out, my voice firm but hushed.

  There was no reply from Elena, but I trusted that she understood. We sprinted through the narrow tunnels, weaving through jagged rock formations, our breaths growing heavier. Finally, we caught up to her. She had tracked the creature to its den—a small, dark recess in the cavern wall. Inside, several Diggles huddled together, their small bodies trembling at the sudden intrusion.

  Blocking the only escape route, Elena quickly snatched up the smallest Diggle and handed it to me. I carefully stored it in a special containment pouch, feeling a pang of guilt as it squeaked softly in protest.

  [Mana Surge casted.]

  Orin immediately channeled her spell toward the largest Diggle. A surge of energy coursed through its frail body. Without hesitation, Darwyn loosed a precise shot—swift, merciless. The others followed, one after another, lifeless bodies collapsing against the cold stone.

  I hesitated. Watching an entire Diggle family get slaughtered, defenseless and unaware—it made my stomach churn. My hands clenched into fists. But this was the harsh reality of this world. Only the strong survived.

  Treasure…

  That was the only word to describe what lay before us. A massive pile of large Mana Stones materialized, far surpassing even what we had obtained from King Kobold. The soft blue glow of the stones reflected in my team’s wide-eyed gazes, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten.

  Fortunately, Druids were known for their extensive knowledge. My team had no reason to suspect me when I explained, in great detail, the precise method for acquiring such riches.

  “We’re rich!” Muradin bellowed, throwing his arms into the air. “I can drink the finest ale every day for the rest of my life!”

  “Woohoo!” Orin cheered, her eyes practically sparkling with excitement. Even Elena, usually reserved, joined in, spinning around in a circle with Orin and Darwyn, laughter bubbling up in an uncharacteristic display of joy.

  I forced a smile. Though the thrill of our success was undeniable, a shadow lingered in my thoughts. The weight of what we had done pressed against my chest. This had been far more brutal than what I’ve experienced in the game.

  Far more real.

  ***

  After that, we continued our exploration of the Damp Abyss. We wandered through the winding corridors, scattering Lumincrumb along the way, but no more Diggles appeared. A part of me felt disappointed—yet at the same time, relieved. The guilt still clung to me. Even though I knew those creatures would reset once the Tower closed, I couldn’t shake off the image of the last Diggle’s terrified eyes and its final, desperate scream before it was slain.

  There wasn’t much else to find in these dark depths, aside from a handful of insignificant, small monsters. Then, out of nowhere, Darwyn’s voice broke the silence. “Wait! I can sense something unusual over there!” He pointed toward a dimly lit passage. We hurried over, eager to investigate.

  “Agh, it's a Cursed Mimic. I thought we’d gotten lucky again,” Muradin grumbled, crossing his arms.

  Unlike him, Orin stepped forward, eyes gleaming with excitement and curiosity.

  Mimics were exceptionally rare monsters, resembling treasure chests. They were classified as hidden monsters, lurking in remote locations like the Damp Abyss, making them difficult to find. If defeated, a Mimic could drop precious loot—equipment imbued with active skills, comparable to boss-level gear, or a significant amount of Mana Stones.

  But this wasn’t just any Mimic. This one was Cursed Mimic.

  The difference was obvious. Instead of its usual radiant gold sheen, this Mimic was dull, almost lifeless, and shrouded in a sinister dark aura. Most adventurers steered clear of Cursed Mimics, as these creatures didn’t yield valuable rewards. Instead, they unleashed curses and debilitating effects upon their slayers.

  Orin, undeterred, took a confident step toward the creature.

  “O-Orin, maybe we should just leave,” Elena said anxiously, trying to pull her back. Her grip tightened, her worry evident.

  But Orin simply grinned. “But if I manage to get something, it counts as an individual contribution, right?”

  “Sure,” Darwyn scoffed, shivering at the thought. “Just don’t share the curse with me.”

  I sighed, offering one last word of caution. “In case you weren’t aware, Cursed Mimics don’t drop anything worthwhile. At best, you’ll get a useless item. At worst… well, you’ll regret it.”

  “I know.” Orin winked at me, her expression unwavering. “I just want to test my luck.”

  No one said anything after that. Slowly, the rest of us took a few cautious steps back, making sure we were far enough to avoid getting caught in whatever disaster she was about to bring upon herself.

  With a swift motion, Orin unleashed Mana Surge, sending a crackling surge of energy toward the Cursed Mimic before striking it with a few well-placed blows. The creature screeched in agony, its form collapsing into a cloud of thick, black mist. The air around us grew heavy, suffused with an unsettling, ominous presence.

  Even from a safe distance, I could feel the unsettling aura washing over me.

  Orin, unfazed, clasped her hands together and shut her eyes. “Come on, give me something good.”

  Silence settled over the group. No one dared to breathe. I quickly cast all my buff spells on Orin, bracing myself for whatever consequences might come next.

  Then—something flickered within the dissipating darkness. A faint glow.

  wildly unfortunate happens!