Chapter Eight: The Eerie Ruins

In the end, Jen agreed to Verna’s request, but he set forth his own terms: any treasures found at the destination must be his to choose from first. Furthermore, Verna’s soldiers were to follow Jen’s orders and not act on their own. If Verna refused, their partnership would end then and there.

On the surface, these were nothing short of tyrannical demands, as it meant Verna and her subordinates would be working for Jen for free, left with only whatever he passed over. Yet Verna did not object; she nodded in swift agreement. This was how transactions operated in the Underdark—power determined one’s right to wealth and authority. If Jen had feigned camaraderie, insisting they were all companions and his help was nothing to fuss over, Verna would instead have been on high alert, wary of the knife he might bury in her back.

Verna did not argue about Jen’s request for command over her mercenaries. It meant her group still had value to him—otherwise, he wouldn’t bother seizing authority; he could simply wait for them to perish and then raise their corpses with necromancy. After all, to a necromancer, soldiers were always available when needed.

After dealing with the bodies of the fallen, the group set out again. This time, the mercenaries were noticeably more cautious, but seeing Jen and Enoya among them brought relief. Having two powerful allies at their side was always reassuring.

Since the ambush by the terrorclaw beasts, there had been no further attacks, but this absence only made them more vigilant. Jen had already hinted to Verna that they had fallen into a trap, and Verna, aware there was something amiss with the terrorclaw beasts, understood the danger. As a mercenary surviving beneath the surface, her knowledge of terrorclaw beasts was no less than anyone else’s.

Now, however, there was little for Verna to do but press onward.

“This is the entrance to the ruins the gray dwarves spoke of,” she said.

After some searching, they soon found the entrance described by the gray dwarves. It was set into a stone wall, resembling a large hole dug out of the rock. Through the thick layers of dust, Jen could barely make out the intricate carvings and reliefs upon the wall.

Clearly, this place was no ordinary site.

Verna signaled, and three bear goblins strode forward, torches held high, probing inside. After a moment, they signaled that it was safe.

Verna did not enter immediately, but waited in silence before waving her hand. The mercenaries filed in, taking positions along both sides, forming a defensive array and watching for any danger.

Unexpectedly, the half-blood elf performed admirably.

Observing Verna’s actions, Jen couldn’t help but feel impressed. Training bear goblins and half-orcs—creatures infamous for their stupidity—to be competent warriors was no easy feat. While their reputation for “bravery” was well known, it referred more to their reckless charges than to any sense of discipline or organized combat.

Once everyone was inside, Verna led Jen and Enoya through the entrance. The mercenaries had already lit the torches along the walls, illuminating everything before them.

The first sight to greet Jen was a smooth corridor. Time had rendered its once even floor uneven, damp air carrying the unique chill of the subterranean realm. Footsteps echoed through the silent passage, breaking the long-held quiet.

“It appears to be just an ordinary tomb,” Verna muttered to herself, eyeing the open elongated tomb niches lining the walls, where bone-wrapped skeletons could be clearly seen. Yet these remains were shattered beyond use, their grave goods long since plundered, leaving only broken bricks and debris. Evidently, the gray dwarves had profited well here.

But Verna knew better than to trust appearances; tombs in the Underdark concealed extreme dangers. One could never know if claiming treasures would awaken a dreadful lich or demon. This was one reason the denizens of the depths complained about the “crawlers” from above—those foolish surface dwellers buried their problems underground, indifferent to the lives below. She wished those damned idiots would be roasted alive by the great fireball above their heads!

As they entered the corridor, Jen released his banshee guard. Their presence instantly lowered the temperature, making even the bear goblins in thick leather armor shudder. The banshees paid no heed, swiftly passing through the walls and vanishing from sight.

“Enoya, what time is it now?” Jen asked, watching the banshees disappear. Enoya took out her pocket watch, glanced at it, and replied respectfully, “One twelve and thirty-four seconds in the afternoon.”

“…I see. Thank you,” Jen said, nodding as he glanced at the system panel before him. A flash of concern crossed his eyes.

The daily quest had not yet been issued.

Jen had studied the dungeon system thoroughly. Daily quests were assigned to players each day in the dungeon, but their timing was meaningful. If the system judged the player unlikely to encounter any emergencies, it would issue a quest early, never later than noon. Those idle tasks, such as “Jump into the Bottomless Abyss” or “Confess to your sister,” were examples.

Conversely, if the system’s calculations indicated a high risk—monster attacks, player invasions, or unexpected events—it would delay issuing the daily quest until the event occurred.

Such quests were dangerous, with short time frames (since every quest would reset at six in the morning, and completing it after that was pointless), but offered rich rewards.

Jen did not know how the system gathered and calculated data in reality, but he valued this trait. It wasn’t just the trivial experience points; it was almost like having a built-in prophecy spell, warning him of trouble or danger each day.

It was past one o’clock, yet the system still had not issued a daily quest. This made Jen ever more cautious. In his memory, the most dangerous daily quest he had experienced was in the demon realm. That time, he received no quest for a whole day, until the moment he was summoned by the Demon King and stepped into the Hall of Ten Thousand Demons—then the system issued a quest: “Convince the Demon King you can build a dungeon, rather than be executed on the spot.”

It was clear how perilous that situation was; surrounded by siblings, Jen had to risk everything to assure his father that he could build a powerful and glorious dungeon in the barren north, thereby escaping a secret execution for the sake of royal dignity.

The reward was a map detailing the minerals and races of the entire northern region. With this map, Jen could build his dungeon in peace, safe from trouble and prying eyes.

Unfortunately, the map only recorded what existed; it did not mark the ruins buried deep underground.

Jen had thought he would receive a daily quest titled “Explore the Ruins,” but that hadn’t happened. Otherwise, the system would have prompted him as soon as he entered. Now, with the clock past one and no quest issued, the system’s “prophecy” was clear: Jen would certainly face trouble.

The real show was yet to begin.

As the banshees explored, the mist-shrouded map before Jen gradually revealed its true shape. It seemed to be nothing more than an ordinary tomb—both the narrow corridors and the structures suggested it was merely part of a mausoleum.

The banshees encountered no enemies, but that only made Jen uneasy. A tomb should have some defense, especially in a world of swords and magic; if not undead guardians, then traps and poison to deter greedy tomb robbers.

“This tomb must be a disguise,” Jen whispered to Enoya. Hearing this, Enoya was startled, then quickly regained her composure.

“Which means we’re about to face formidable enemies?” she asked, concern in her voice. If Jen was right and the tomb was merely a façade, its true master must be powerful enough to create such an elaborate deception. For Jen, this would not be an easy foe.

“Perhaps, or perhaps not,” Jen replied, clenching his fist. For safety’s sake, he could still withdraw from this adventure. But Jen could not leave—this was the best opportunity to expand his power. If he failed to build a strong city once the dungeon system was established, his ultimate fate would be a tragic death in the ceremony deciding the Demon King’s successor.

Of this, Jen had no doubt.

“But we must go forward all the same,” Jen finally decided.