Soren’s boots sank deep into the mud with every step.
A chilling aura lingered in the air, and from far off, occasional screams could be heard.
The Gloomy Mirecave was nothing like the previous two dungeons.
For one, the atmosphere was disturbingly ominous.
With danger potentially lurking anywhere, it made everyone more on edge.
There were no walls separating the rooms and corridors.
Instead, a murky swamp stretched endlessly in all directions, with occasional patches of solid ground that vaguely resembled land.
In other words, there was no cover to rely on.
‘Damn, just my luck.’
Soren frowned without realizing it.
Walls in other dungeons limited paths, sure—but they also had their uses.
They made it easier to map routes, and during camping, all you had to do was keep an eye on the corridor.
But not here.
There was no consistent direction to keep watch on.
Because of that, even Loreia, leading the party, moved cautiously and constantly checked her surroundings.
The party’s formation had also shifted slightly.
Previously, it was Loreia, then Bork, followed by Soren and Moss.
Now, Moss had swapped places with Bork.
“Don’t worry, kid. If you fall into the swamp, I’ll pull you right out.”
“Please do.”
In this wide-open space, they couldn’t afford to leave the rear weak anymore.
It was better to crowd the front with more people and have Bork, the powerhouse, secure the back.
“I wonder what the swamp here is made of?”
Moss, walking just ahead of Soren, muttered to himself.
It sounded like a passing thought, but Soren, who already knew the answer, couldn’t just ignore it.
[The swamp of the Gloomy Mirecave is a dangerous place. If you come into contact with it for too long, you’ll be afflicted with one of three status conditions: plague, deadly poison, or infection. Be cautious.]
The plague was a contagious disease that spread relentlessly.
The deadly poison was just that—pure lethality.
Infection was a bit more abstract.
Simply put, parasites entered the body.
Once the parasite matured, it would take control of the host.
Soren had absolutely no intention of giving his body over to some filthy bug.
“Be careful not to touch the swamp.”
“Ah, yeah. Whatever it is… I’m definitely not planning to jump in.”
Moss nodded with a grimace.
Some parts of the swamp bubbled ominously, while others had green, slimy chunks floating around.
Even without Soren’s warning, no sane person would throw themselves into that mess.
‘God, the smell is revolting.’
Every now and then, a rotten stench wafted in with the wind, hitting Soren’s nose like a punch.
Each time, he had to pinch his nose and force himself to keep moving.
What a godforsaken dungeon.
Even if the structure was different, the core mechanics of the Gloomy Mirecave still followed dungeon logic.
Explore a room, find a corridor, proceed to the next room.
Here, the “rooms” felt more like zones, but the process was similar enough.
“There’s a rotten chest.”
“Of…”
Half-buried in the mud ahead of Soren was a chest.
Treasure hunting was usually about gathering little rewards from things like scrap rooms—but in the Gloomy Mirecave, rewards were frustratingly scarce.
Most of the chests they found were so decayed the bottoms had fallen out, and even when they managed to retrieve something, it was usually rusted beyond use.
This time wasn’t much different.
“Ugh… what is that smell…?”
“Urgh.”
Soren, digging through the rotted chest, turned away in disgust as sticky mud clung to his fingers.
Even the solid-looking patches of ground reeked of rot.
‘What the hell is buried in here?’
The foul stench refused to fade.
Only after cleaning and scraping the mud from under his nails did the smell finally lessen.
“Nothing again.”
Moss, also wiping off mud, muttered.
He didn’t look too good.
The sludge they had just dug through looked disturbingly like human waste.
Honestly, fighting monsters would be preferable to this.
No—undoubtedly better.
Fed up with the filth, Soren grabbed his lantern.
“Let’s move on.”
“Yes. Let’s get going.”
Moss quickly rejoined the group, clearly eager to leave.
Another unique feature of the Gloomy Mirecave was how much faster exhaustion built up compared to other dungeons.
The terrain dragged your legs down with every step—each one required twice the effort.
Big and heavy Bork was already starting to tire.
Still, given his trained physique, he was faring better than the rest.
‘I’m dying here.’
Soren, who didn’t have great stamina to begin with, was barely hanging on.
***
After digging through the swamp a few times, he was honestly tempted to just lie down in it.
“Let’s proceed.”
Loreia took the lead again.
Moss followed, stepping carefully through the muck.
Soren trailed behind, his movements sluggish.
They walked for a while in silence.
Each time a foot sank into the mud, they had to yank it out quickly to avoid getting trapped.
What drove Soren mad was that, unlike other dungeons where chests were rare, here they seemed to pop up constantly.
“There’s another chest.”
It hadn’t been long since they found the last one.
On the next patch of land, Moss pointed to a half-submerged chest.
Soren’s dull gaze turned toward it.
‘Of course. These damned things only show up when I’m about to lose it.’
“Do we really have to check it?”
“I think we should… just in case.”
Still, they couldn’t just ignore it.
They’d been trudging around for over half a day, and Soren’s backpack was still practically empty.
Everything they’d found so far was either rotten or rusted beyond saving.
“Alright, let’s make it quick.”
“This time, Loreia, could you give me a hand?”
“……”
Once again, they dug through the sticky mud.
This time, Soren pulled out the rusty hilt of a sword.
‘…Maybe I could sell this?’
Even that felt laughably optimistic.
He’d be lucky if the appraiser didn’t douse him with swamp water out of spite.
Soren flung the useless handle away.
It barely made it a few steps before flopping to the ground—too light and soggy to even land with dignity.
“Um… shall we move on?”
“…Yeah.”
Moss gave an awkward smile and signaled to move forward again.
Soren, thoroughly exhausted, could only shuffle forward.
Behind him, Bork’s heavy steps squelched loudly in the mud.
Squish, squish.
‘Damn this place…’
The scenery, the stench, the sounds, even the disgusting taste of swamp muck that had accidentally splashed into his mouth…
He was going insane.
The Gloomy Mirecave was a dungeon that assaulted every one of the five senses.
As a result, Soren and the others were growing increasingly irritable.
It wasn’t obvious—but it was happening, without a doubt.
***
Eventually, after a long march, the dense fog began to thin.
Suddenly, the ground rose, and Soren nearly lost his balance.
He looked down, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he saw stone beneath his feet instead of a pit of mud.
“Let’s take a short break here.”
After walking for so long, they’d finally reached a spot that could almost be called solid ground.
The place Soren and his party had settled in was strange.
Surrounded by swamps and mud paths in all directions, this sudden patch of stone ground in the middle felt completely out of place.
It was randomness to the point of absurdity.
Moreover, the circular stone floor was etched with indecipherable carvings and grooves, clearly not of natural origin.
In other words—yeah.
It looked just like the “rooms” from previous dungeons.
Even in the gloomy swamp caverns where the concept of a “room” was almost nonexistent, this place felt different.
‘What kind of place even was this?’
Despite his exhaustion, Soren scanned his surroundings.
“I thought I was going to die!”
Bork, who never cared much about anything, was the only one looking cheerful.
Loreia, who had been taking the lead and carving the path forward, was simply relieved to have found a place to rest, stretching her limbs with a sigh.
“Soren.”
It was Moss who approached Soren.
Soren ran his hand over the carvings on the ground and spoke.
“I can’t make heads or tails of this stone floor.”
“I don’t know much either, but… so far, nothing strange has happened.”
“Honestly, I still don’t feel at ease.”
‘This place should feel more messed up.’
Soren let out a dry chuckle and finally slumped down.
No matter how much he wracked his brain, nothing came to mind.
Better to just admit he didn’t know and focus on recovering his strength.
“I’ll try to find a way to purify some drinking water.”
Soren nodded.
No matter how much they had brought with them, it was only just enough to last about a week at minimum.
If a water pouch burst or the water got contaminated… they’d be completely screwed.
This was Moss’s time to shine—the one who could use purification miracles.
The bubbling filth of the swamp water didn’t look purifiable in the slightest, but whether he could or couldn’t do it might end up being the deciding factor for this expedition.
“Don’t let your guard down too much.”
With those heavy responsibilities, Moss walked off.
Soren and the others began to take their rest, keeping a bit of distance between themselves.
They couldn’t stray too far from one another, of course, but just sitting or lying down was bliss in itself.
Soren let out a groan without realizing it as he sprawled on the stone floor.
After pulling his feet out from the muck, his legs were numb and his back felt like it was breaking.
He took out a wad of crushed herbal pills from his bag and popped one into his mouth, feeling the pain ease slightly.
“Well then…”
Using his bag as a pillow, Soren opened up the strategy guide.
He had been reading it whenever he found a spare moment, but he still hadn’t made it all the way through.
The gloomy swamp caverns were no exception.
But you couldn’t blame Soren for not finishing it—there were already four dungeon layers beneath this one, and who could have predicted they’d end up in this place?
He finished grumbling and turned his eyes back to the guidebook.
“The ecosystem of the Gloomy Swamp Caverns is limited. Most monsters couldn’t survive the harsh environment.”
In other words, any monster that did survive here was bound to be strong.
Looking at it that way, the Gloomy Swamp Caverns really had nothing going for them.
The dungeon was constantly desolate, its various obstacles dulled your senses, and the monsters were powerful on top of all that…
This expedition was basically doomed.
“There are three types of monsters in the swamp caverns: Slimes, the Abnormal Witch, and That Which Lurks in the Mire.
All three are extremely dangerous, but their numbers are proportionally low due to their threat level.
If encountered, consider elemental strengths and weaknesses.
If it’s too dangerous, retreat.
Soren quietly repeated the monsters listed in the guide.
Slimes, the Abnormal Witch, That Which Lurks in the Mire.
‘That Which Lurks in the Mire?’
There were only three, and yet none of them made any sense.
The guide included basic strategies and features for each, but—
“Alright, let’s get moving!”
Soren didn’t get to read the rest of the descriptions.
He closed the book, adjusted his bag, and looked ahead.
He opened his ears wide, trying to gauge the situation.
Aaaaagh—!
From beyond the misty swamp, a distant scream echoed faintly.
The frequency was erratic and rare, but considering the number of explorers who entered the dungeon, it wasn’t a good sign.
There were swarms of adventurers—but the dungeon was even bigger.
The guidebook had said as much.
Even Soren’s father hadn’t found the end of the dungeon.
In this vast expanse, even if not often, you could still hear explorers screaming in agony.
The monsters in the swamp caverns were hunting adventurers.
***
“Were you able to purify it?” Soren asked.
“Yes. I had to purify it twice for it to be drinkable. It’s colorless and odorless now.”
“Still feels a bit sketchy…”
Soren tried to shake off his unease as he rejoined the others.
No point speaking bad omens into existence.
He didn’t need to fill his head with unlucky thoughts.
“Shall we go?” someone asked.
“Do you see those trees? I think we should head in that direction. It’ll serve as a good landmark for the rest of the expedition.”
Soren lifted his head.
Beyond the mist, he spotted something resembling tree branches poking through.
They looked fairly close, but given the harsh terrain, they couldn’t afford to get lazy.
“Then, let’s move out.”
At Moss’s signal, Soren and his companions resumed their dungeon exploration.
They pushed through the sticky, suffocating swamp, deeper into the mist.
No one knew what waited for them beyond it.
Not Soren. Not even the guidebook.
And that uncertainty only pulled Soren in further.
***
“There—”
Uncertainty struck swiftly.
Flanked by swamp on either side of the narrow path, Bork, gripping his hand axe, stared straight ahead.
“A monster…”
Its robe was torn and scorched, the pointed hat burnt to a crisp, and its gaunt flesh clung tightly to its bones.
Its hollow, pitch-black eyes turned toward them.
Then, it opened its gaping mouth wide.
‘Damn it.’
Soren had never seen anything like it before—but he recognized it instantly.
“Kyaaaaah!!”
The Abnormal Witch.