Before Hank could respond, he suddenly noticed something strange about his body. He looked down. The long, narrow cut on his arm, left by a fang during the melee, was visibly writhing and closing at a speed the naked eye could follow. In moments, only a faint white line remained.
“…What?” He pointed at his now unbroken skin and looked up at Nolan, his eyes filled with astonishment. “You did this?”
Nolan was breathing a little heavily as well. He nodded, a relaxed smile on his face. “Just a minor side effect that came with my growth in strength. It speeds up metabolism and helps wounds heal faster.”
Hank studied the young man in front of him. There was nothing “minor” about such a miraculous ability.
“Let’s take a break,” Nolan said. “Might as well check over there and see if there’s anything worth picking up.”
The two of them walked one after the other toward the center of the nest where the queen had been.
Watching Nolan’s familiar, practiced movements, Hank couldn’t help but ask, “Why are you so experienced at this?” From devising the plan to drawing the monsters in, to finally using his strike to both kill the queen and break open the rock wall, everything had flowed as if rehearsed countless times.
Because I’ve memorized this dungeon, Nolan thought to himself, though he obviously couldn’t say that out loud. Instead, he gave an explanation more fitting for this world. “Didn’t I mention before? Most monsters act on instinct. Once you understand them thoroughly, you’ll find they only ever rely on a handful of tricks. Predicting them isn’t that hard.”
As they spoke, they had already reached the edge of the nest. Sure enough, there was a small pile of human-made items here, most of them rusted scraps of armor and broken weapons.
Nolan rummaged through the pile with his scabbard, talking as he worked. “Crystallized lizards have a habit of collecting junk. Maybe it’s because of the trace of draconic blood in them. You know how dragons are—greed is in their nature.”
He pushed aside a dented breastplate, his eyes lighting up as he pinched a dull-colored ring from within and dragged out a pair of dust-covered iron boots from underneath.
Not bad at all. These two were among the most valuable drops in this beginner dungeon. Nolan couldn’t help but grin.
Hank crossed his arms, watching Nolan beam over the unremarkable-looking items. “What’s so special about those?”
“Don’t let the grime fool you.” Nolan blew the dust off the ring, revealing the silver band beneath. “They’re both magical equipment.”
“You can identify magic items?” Hank was taken aback. Seeing Nolan reach that conclusion without even equipping them, he was skeptical.
In this world, quickly determining all the properties of a magical item was a specialized skill. Most people could only figure it out if they recognized the item, tested it themselves, or paid a high price to a professional appraiser.
“I’ve heard about them before,” Nolan said casually, handing the ring to Hank. “Try it.”
Hank took it and slipped it onto his little finger, still doubtful.
The moment the ring settled into place, the world before his eyes changed.
The dark depths of the cave, which the torchlight could barely reach, became clear in an instant. Every texture of the stone, every rise and dip of the ground stood out sharply, as if illuminated by daylight.
His mouth fell open in surprise. “Darkvision?”
Nolan nodded. “Exactly. It’s only a low-tier version, but it’s very practical.”
Looking at the interface visible only to himself, Nolan felt satisfied.
【Keen Sight Ring】
【Quality: Faint Glow】
【Max MP +5】
【Special Effect: Darkvision】
【The people of Tyr never carry torches. They pierce the darkness with magic.】
Next, Nolan sat down and removed his mud-caked boots, replacing them with the iron pair he had just found.
With a series of clicks, eight sharp metal hooks snapped out from the sides of the boots, embedding deeply into the rock beneath his feet.
【Arcane Lock Boots】
【Quality: Fine Craft】
【Defense: 11】
【Max HP +95】
【Special Effect: Adherence】
【“We may not excel in battle, but we are unmatched as arcane craftsmen.” —An unnamed halfling artisan】
Nolan stood and tested them.
He walked over to the nearby rock wall and applied a little pressure. The hooks gripped firmly into the vertical surface. With that traction alone, he was able to “walk” along the wall, ascending steadily all the way to the ceiling.
Of course, this demanded tremendous core strength. An ordinary person wouldn’t be able to make full use of these boots even with them equipped. Their true purpose was to assist with climbing, to stabilize one’s footing in rushing currents, and even in close combat, those hook-lined soles could serve as weapons for vicious kicks.
Nolan was thoroughly satisfied. As expected of fine-quality gear a tier above Faint Glow, the attributes were excellent and its versatility impressive.
“Alright, no more suspense.” Nolan jumped down from the rock wall and dusted off his hands. “The real intruder that drove these lizards into this state is most likely a drake. How it ended up here is unclear, but judging by the situation, it’s probably injured and hiding underground. Though it’s close to Gold rank and possesses immense physical strength, a wingless brute like that still has its weaknesses. It charges fast, but its startup is slow, so backing away won’t work. You have to dodge quickly to the sides. And be careful of its three tails…”
“A drake?!”
The name alone made Hank’s mind buzz. He hadn’t expected their true target to be such a rare draconic creature. As he stared at Nolan, the rest of the explanation barely registered.
This man…
He not only understood undead traits thoroughly and saw through monster behavior at a glance, but could even identify magical equipment by sight alone. And now, he could speak fluently about the weaknesses and combat patterns of something as rare as a drake.
For a moment, Hank was reminded of the myths recited in temple sermons. In those stories, the incarnation of the Mother Goddess Sethis who walked among mortals was known as the Omniscient One.
Could such a person truly exist?
And in mortal epics, such a figure often bore another name—the savior.
“…Its weak point lies about a meter behind and to the side of its front legs. Among its multiple breathing vents, that’s the most vulnerable and easiest to strike. So, are you ready?”
After finishing his explanation, Nolan turned back and realized that Hank was looking at him rather strangely. He immediately sensed he might have overdone it and hastily tried to smooth things over.
“Uh, I heard all this from a traveling mage from Tyr who specialized in trading draconic materials…”
Hank suddenly burst into laughter, cutting him off, “It doesn’t matter!” The veteran clapped him on the shoulder, his eyes brighter than ever. “You said it yourself—who you are isn’t important. What matters is what you intend to do. We’re going to build our own force and stand against powerful enemies. I’d rather you be as capable as possible! If you were nothing but a hollow fraud, wouldn’t that make my decision to follow you utterly foolish?”
With that, he asked no further questions. Sword in hand, he took the lead and headed straight for the bottomless black opening.
Nolan watched his back, feeling the weight of that trust. He drew in a deep breath and followed. “Then I’d better not let you down.”
One after the other, they stepped into the depths of darkness. The farther they descended, the heavier the air became, and even the torch flame began to flicker unsteadily. Nolan knew this was because they had gone too deep, where oxygen levels had dropped.
Suddenly, Hank, walking ahead, raised a hand sharply and clenched his fist.
Without hesitation, Nolan tossed him the Keen Sight Ring. Hank caught it cleanly, slipped it on, held his breath, and fixed his gaze beyond a massive boulder ahead.
He didn’t need to say a word. Nolan felt it too. The air carried a scorching sulfurous scent, and beneath their feet, the rock pulsed faintly with a steady rhythm, like a beating heart.
Hank’s breath hitched. With the ring’s Darkvision, he saw it.
There, not far away, lay a massive creature sprawled on the ground, its shoulder height reaching nearly four meters even in its resting posture. Its body was covered in heavy, rock-like scales, and with each breath, two streams of hot, sulfur-laced air hissed from its nostrils.
It was a drake.
A living, breathing drake.
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