*300 meters off from Hassel…
""Haaa~ I'm finally here""
I exhaled slowly, letting the mountain air fill my lungs as I stood atop a jagged slab of stone, elevated above the forest canopy that blanketed the slopes below. The winds whispered across the ridge, carrying with it the scent of pine, soil, and distant smoke. Around me, the terrain curved in a natural arc—towering slabs and ledges forming a half-ring of uneven platforms carved by time and weather. From this vantage point, I could see everything: the tree-lined valley below, the winding path that led into the village of Hassel nestled quietly among the pines—and most importantly, my final objective.
The end of my nonstop tasks was just within reach.
""Hmm…""
I glanced over my shoulder, eyes narrowing slightly toward the horizon, to the direction I had come from.
((Should I have gone back?))
My thoughts drifted, unbidden, to that blinding explosion that had cracked across the sky over Hohenwald station just after I left. I turned back and stared at it for a moment but decided to move on with my mission as the explosion had nothing to do with me.
""…""
I realy did considered turning back for a moment, but…no, I decided against it back then too.
""Nah. Corvus wouldn't want nor need my help anyway. They can handle themselves""
The words came out more like a verbal shrug than actual conviction. Whether I was reassuring myself or simply justifying the choice, I wasn't sure. The thought of them flashed for a moment in my mind—but I exhaled again and let it all pass like smoke through my fingers, I didn't personally know any of them beyond my interactions with them through my work, so I had no stakes in whatever conflict was going on back there.
I turned back to face the valley.
""More importantly…""
I reached up to adjust the straps of my bag and shifted the weight of my gear.
""I should get to work""
I scanned the ridge and spotted a narrow crevice just a few meters to my left. It looked just wide enough for me to squeeze through if I turned sideways. A natural break in the stone wall, barely visible under the tangle of moss and creeping vines. It wasn't an obvious entrance—ideal for someone who didn't want to be seen.
*Step* *Crunch...*
I moved toward it, boots crunching against loose gravel as I crouched low and edged into the gap.
The mountain seemed to breathe around me, quiet and watchful.
((I could just jump off the ledge, a fall from this height would barely scratch me but...eh let's take a more reasonable approach for now...I'm almost out of supplies anyway))
I thought, the constant missions had been draining, even for my enhanced physiology. I've ran out of stamina potions a long time ago, gotta conserve what I have left.
And just like that, I disappeared into the stone.
((Tight squeeze...))
I pressed my back against the cold rock as I squeezed through the narrow gap, the jagged stone biting at my cloak and brushing against my shoulders with every inch I moved. The rough surface scraped faint sparks against the metal buckles on my belt, but I didn't stop. Couldn't stop. The crevice was tighter than I expected—narrower in some places, twisting like a wound cut deep into the mountainside—but eventually, the pressure around me began to ease.
The moment I slipped through the final choke point, the world opened up.
*Woosh!* *Wooosh!*
Howling wind roared in my ears as I emerged onto a precarious ledge carved into the face of the mountain. The path ahead was little more than a stone ribbon clinging to the slope, barely wider than the length of my foot in some places.
Below me, the earth fell away sharply into an abyss of mist and jagged rocks. One wrong step, and I'll go carreening down the bottom of the ravine.
""A bit cold up here isn't it?""
I muttered, flattening myself against the wall, my hands and boots gripping the surface with practiced care.
((Easy, careful steps...))
Each step forward was deliberate, cautious—heel to toe, heel to toe. The wind screamed louder up here, slapping at my cloak like it was trying to tear it off me. I leaned into the mountain to keep my balance, feeling the stone's rough texture scrape against my gloves. Far ahead, I could just barely see the path curve around a jagged outcropping, disappearing from sight.
A cloud drifted by below me, and for a moment, everything was pale and eerie, the mist curling over the ledge like skeletal fingers. The wind whistled through a crack in the stone somewhere above, a high-pitched wail like a distant scream.
((Charming atmosphere though, I can't complain…))
*Slip!* *Kek* *Kek*
A loose pebble slipped from under my boot and tumbled down the ravine. I didn't watch it fall. Just kept moving, inch by inch.
""Phew~""
Eventually, I reached a segment where the ledge widened slightly—just enough for me to take a steadying breath. I paused, one hand gripping a protruding rock, and looked ahead.
""Signs of people. I'm on the right track""
I muttered to myself, eyes locking onto the worn wooden planks on the path ahead. They were laid unevenly across the stone, forming a rough but unmistakable path that wound toward the dark mouth of a nearby cave. Weathered by time and the elements, the boards creaked slightly under the wind, but they were sturdy—used often enough to still hold weight.
Up ahead, the cave loomed from the mountainside, nestled where the rock dipped inward like a natural alcove. Moss clung to its edges, and faint drag marks led into its shadowed entrance.
((If I had to guess, this is a trail the villagers use—maybe for gathering herbs, mining, or moving supplies))
It wasn't uncommon for these kinds of communities to hollow out passages like this for resource collection or shortcut routes.
The air shifted slightly as I approached, cooler and denser near the cave's mouth. My cloak fluttered behind me as the wind howled once more across the ridge.
((Yeah…this'll definitely take me down the mountain))
I gave one last glance to the path behind me before stepping onto the first plank. The wood groaned softly—but held firm.
Still, I resisted the urge to rush. The boards underfoot creaked with every shift of weight, and some looked like they hadn't been trusted in years. I carefully avoided the older, splintered ones, testing each step before committing my full weight. The wind continued to howl behind me, but its bite dulled the deeper I went. Inch by inch, I moved toward the cave entrance ahead—dark, quiet, and just sheltered enough to muffle the worst of the storm.
""Hmm...seems I was right.""
As soon as I crossed the threshold, it became obvious. Signs of activity were everywhere—thick ropes coiled around wooden posts driven into the rock, placed at key ledges, likely for climbing or stabilizing loads. There were pulley systems too, still gently swaying from the breeze, their rusted hooks clinking softly against metal buckets that hung from worn cords. The scent of damp earth and iron filled the air.
This wasn't just a cave—it was in use.
""Okay…before we move on""
Now out of the wind, I slipped a hand into my coat pocket and pulled out the folded slip of paper the Maestro had handed me at the start of this assignment. It was creased along too many folds to count, but the parchment still felt new—smooth to the touch, untouched by moisture, and carrying a faint trace of ink and pressed paper.
((It struck me as unusual he didn't encode this...))
*Snap!*
With a snap of my fingers, a small flame bloomed on my fingertip. I touched it to the paper's edge. Rather than burning to ash, the surface layer shimmered, curling away in silent wisps of smoke. It peeled like skin from fruit, revealing what had always been hidden beneath.
((But in the Executerii, the lack of a cipher on a mission briefing usually means the message is buried in the medium itself, which in this case is the material of the paper))
Fire paper, a tool commonly used by alchemists to carry secret messages inside of seemingly mundane letters.
Once the top layer vanished, a detailed map was left behind—no words, no riddles. Just clean lines, rendered with precision. Hassel sat in the center, its roads and buildings etched in ink. Surrounding terrain, topography, ridges, and forest lines stretched outward. Several points of interest were marked, but one dominated the rest: a bold black X stamped west of the village, just past its outer border.
((Never believe the surface layer of things...I've orbitted around the Maestro long enough to know that))
I thought, scanning the map closely, committing all it's details to memory.
""I'm guessing the big X is where I need to go. That's most likely where this Pioneer-Class facility is""
I stared at the mark a moment longer, then folded the map and tucked it away.
"Alley-oop!"
*Clank—* *Squeak* *Squeak* *Groooaaan...*
With a short hop, I landed squarely inside one of the hanging buckets, gripping the sturdy cable as my weight shifted the old pulley system into motion. The ropes creaked and groaned under the sudden strain, the wooden wheel above stuttering into a reluctant turn. The descent was slow and jittery, the mechanism jerking with every few inches like it hadn't been used in years, though that's less because of age and more because it wasn't meant to be used like this.
*Clink!* *Squeak!* *Groooaaan...*
The wind whistled through the cave mouth above as I was steadily lowered into the depths, the shadows growing deeper with every second. Dust and bits of rope fiber drifted down like lazy snow, catching the faint shafts of light filtering in from above.
I kept low in the bucket, hands steady on the rim, eyes locked on the ground approaching beneath me.
*Groooaaan...*
((I hope this thing doesn't snap halfway))
The pulley gave another complaining groan—but held.
And down I went.
The pulley groaned and squeaked beneath me, the rope straining with each inch of descent. Wind whistled faintly through the shaft above as I clung to the rim of the rusted bucket, boots braced against its edge. The platform below crept closer, its details sharpening—piles of carts, old rail tracks, the flicker of torch sconces barely clinging to life on the cavern walls.
The bucket dipped low.
((Almost there...))
Just before it touched down with a jarring creak of metal against wood, I bent my knees, shifted my weight—
""Hup""
And launched off the side with a smooth, practiced motion.
My body twisted mid-air as I kicked into a tight backflip. The stale, earthy air rushed past me, the weightless moment stretching just long enough for my cloak to catch the wind and ripple behind me like wings. I landed light as a cat, both feet planting perfectly on the uneven stone floor with a dull tap, knees bent, arms out for balance. The pulley slammed against its stop a heartbeat later behind me, metal clanging with a hollow echo that rang through the underground chamber.
I straightened, already scanning my surroundings.
""Fuuu~"
There was no reason for that backflip other than my own personal amusement.
The base of the cavern was a rough-cut depot of sorts—functional and worn from years of use. Several carts were lined up haphazardly nearby, their wooden frames splintered and stained from repeated loading. One cart brimmed with raw copper ore, chunks glinting faintly in the dim light, the acrid, metallic smell sharp in the air. Another overflowed with cave herbs and mushrooms, their spongy caps glistening with condensation, the scent damp and earthy.
((They've been harvesting for a while, the last bit of activity couldn't have been more than a few hours ago))
Without a sound, I slipped into motion. My steps were measured, avoiding loose stones and soft patches of cave moss as I trailed the tracks carved by the carts—thin metal rails sunken into the stone like veins leading toward the heart.
Up ahead, a faint shimmer of natural light spilled through a cleft in the cave wall. I crouched lower, moving in a half-crawl, half-walk to avoid detection. The closer I got to the exit, the stronger the breeze grew, carrying with it hints of fresh pine and burning wood.
""...""
I stopped just short of the opening, body pressed against the wall, and peered out.
The mouth of the cave opened onto the foot of the mountain. Beyond it lay a modest clearing that served as a staging area for the villagers. A few small, practical huts were scattered about, their wooden exteriors weathered and patched with cloth and tar. Some had smoke drifting lazily from their chimneys, others showed signs of recent movement—boot prints in the dirt, crates cracked open, tools left in a hurry.
There was a loading platform set into the rock nearby, with wooden rails extending toward it for moving heavy carts. A makeshift crane with pulleys and ropes swayed gently in the wind. It was quiet, but not abandoned. Somewhere nearby, I could hear faint movement—chatter, maybe. The scrape of metal.
""...""
I didn't linger.
Staying low, I crept past the perimeter, my boots leaving barely a whisper on the packed earth. I weaved between huts and parked carts, hugging shadows wherever I could, my crimson eyes flicking in every direction.
((This is too exposed...I need more cover))
I dropped into a shallow ridge, my body low to the earth as I crept along its edge, hugging the terrain. Twisted roots and clumps of moss brushed against my gloves as I moved, careful not to snap a twig or disturb the forest's rhythm. Above me, the trees thickened—tall pines and oaks arching overhead, their interlocked canopies casting long, shifting shadows across the forest floor. Dappled sunlight flickered through the gaps like scattered embers.
The wind here was quieter, muffled by the leaves, but still sharp with the distant scent of smoke from village hearths.
I kept low, knees bent, steps slow and deliberate. The undergrowth was dense, but not impossible—fern fronds and thorny bushes tugged gently at my cloak, but I left no trace behind. Not a single boot print in the soft soil. Not a single broken leaf. Just a silent ripple through the forest's skin as I pushed forward.
Ahead, the village of Hassel came into view—still a ways off, but close enough that I could make out its layout through the veil of branches. Modest homes were scattered across the clearing, their rooftops patchy with moss and their chimneys trailing lazy wisps of smoke into the overcast sky. There was a central square, small but tidy, flanked by what looked like a market area and a weathered town hall.
It wasn't much. A handful of buildings, a couple of roads. A quiet, close-knit place, serene and peaceful.
Children playing in the streets, bards performing in village squares, just ordinary life in it's most mundane yet sacred form.
((It's almost too peaceful...))
But what stood out most was the clock tower, it stood in contrast to all of the modest buildings around it—tall, stark, and strangely pristine. It rose above the rest like a sentinel, its brass-plated hands frozen at an odd angle, ticking faintly in the breeze. Even from here, I could almost hear the faint *click-click* of its gears.
((Hmm...having the facility so close to a civilian center is troublesome. Getting laymans involved in our world is the one thing we need to avoid. I'll try to make sure nothing from this facility spreads to the village))
I shifted my gaze westward again, eyes scanning the treeline, searching for something—anything—out of place.
The Maestro's note had been clear: the Pioneer-class facility was somewhere around here, close to the village but hidden well. I should be in the X that was marked on the map west from the village's edge right now but the map didn't indicate any specific entrances.
That left me with guesses.
A hatch buried beneath fallen leaves? A half-collapsed staircase obscured by creeping vines? Maybe a ventilation grate hidden behind a thicket of bushes?
I didn't know.
But I was close now, I can feel it.
"Now where are you?"
I muttered, voice low as I knelt in the cover of the treeline. I closed my eyes, extending my perception outward. First came [Life Sense]—a silent sweep, tuned to detect fluctuations in Prana, the soft heartbeat of living beings. I pushed it out slowly, expanding its reach across a two-mile radius.
Faint pulses returned to me—birds nesting in the trees, villagers going about their routines, small animals rustling beneath the brush, there were monsters yes but they were weak and irrelevant, mostly slimes, bug type monsters and worms.
There was a cockatrice far from here but it seems to be minding it's own business as of now.
As I account for all of it it was all very ordinary, nothing seemed like it was going out of it's way to hide itself.
""...""
I let the technique fade with a breath, there were a few minor monsters living amongst the mundane animals but that's about it, it was utterly normal.
And so I turned to my second option.
I reached inward again—this time, activating [Mana Sense].
""!!!""
And almost immediately, I regretted it.
""Ugh—Argh!""
It was like being abruptly teleported on to the surface of the sun, before being disintergrated without so much as a scream.
My knees buckled. A high-pitched ringing screamed through my ears as my entire world ruptured. Reality itself seemed to stretch thin and tear open. A flood of sensory information poured in—not just seen or heard or felt, but understood in ways the mind just wasn't built to process especially on this obscenely large scale.
I was no longer standing in a forest—I was inside something else. I could feel every strand of mana coiling in the air like nerves, pulsing with unnatural rhythm. It was dense, infinite, wrong.
Images that weren't mine flickered across my vision—fractals, burning glyphs, impossible architecture, a labyrinth that folded into itself infinitely. Time warped, directions meant nothing. for a moment, I couldn't even tell which way was up or down, left or right, forward or backwards, it had all melded into a homogenous sludge for me.
However even amongst these maddening visions there were flashes of recognizable things, control panels, tables filled with documents, restrooms, storage units filled with equipment.
I knew instinctively that the source of these vissions came from beneath the earth—deep, far deeper than it should've been—and it felt like I was staring into the maw of something ancient, something awake, and watching me back.
((Stop! Shut it off! Shut it off—!))
I clenched my jaw and severed the connection, cutting [Mana Sense] off like slamming a door.
""...Haa…haa…""
I stumbled backward, hands braced against a tree as the nausea settled in. My heart pounded against my ribs like it was trying to escape.
Even without [Mana Sense], I could still feel it now—like a migraine bashing itself against my skull. The map hadn't lied. That Pioneer-class facility wasn't just nearby—
It was alive, and it wanted to be found.
((That piece of sh*t doll!…he didn't tell me this facility was built inside the corpse of a dungeon))
I clenched my jaw, the realization crashing into me like a wave of nausea.
""Gaaah!""
I nearly vomited again.
((There's no way I wouldn't have sensed something like this earlier…even from the top of that mountain, I should've felt it. Which means—))
""Ha-""
My breath caught.
((I'm already inside the dungeon's bubble reality...))
Dungeons weren't just physical structures. They were like entire new worlds superimposed upon "normal" reality —bubbles of self contained, altered reality born from Leyline ruptures. Like a thick blanket draped over the bed of what is considered "ordinary", they lay atop the natural world, smothering its rules, its order, its logic. From the outside, everything seemed normal…but once inside, the air change, the laws were bent. Even a dormant dungeon could warp your senses, twist your very idea of what the world should look like if you weren't prepared to deal with it's distortions.
""Ugh—""
After a moment of dizziness, I forced myself upright, steadying my legs beneath me. My knees buckled slightly before locking into place.
""Phew…""
I exhaled sharply, lungs drawing in the cold, tainted air as my heart pounded against my ribs like a war drum, pumping blood back into my head and clearing the fog.
((Well...this changes things. And not in a good way))
If the Pioneer-class facility really was embedded within a conquered dungeon—this dungeon—then nothing about this mission would be straightforward. The briefing had said it went dark. That could mean anything from equipment malfunction to personnel disappearance…but paired with this kind of location? It wasn't a glitch. It was a red flag soaked in kerosene.
((Worst of all…my alchemy stash is nearly dry. Damn it, I'm not equipped for this))
I gritted my teeth, the realization weighing heavier with each second. The endless missions I'd been assigned lately had drained most of my prepared materials. My last serious restock was weeks ago, and whatever minor concoctions remained in my belt wouldn't last through a full dungeon sweep.
((Should I turn back?))
The thought surfaced sharply, logic clawing at the edge of my focus. Being cautious was better than charging in blind—especially here.
But…
((No. It'd take too long to resupply. Hassel's too small, too rural—I doubt they even know what half of my gear is, let alone carry it. I wasn't given a strict time limit, sure, but…with the war against the Chorus looming—))
I stood there for a long moment, weighing every angle.
The longer I hesitated, the worse the odds would get.
""Haaaaa…""
I let out a long, tired breath.
""Fine. Guess I'm doing this""
And with those words, against every sensible thought within me screaming otherwise, I pushed forward.
((It's a conquered dungeon. There are no node creatures I could sense, I should be able to traverse it without too much issue))
But even as I tried to convince myself, I knew better. Dungeons didn't just have creatures. There were also the warped space, residual echoes, anomalous occurences, lingering traps and worse.
Still…
((If it gets desperate…I have cards I can still play))
I thought mentally preparing for the worst.
There were a multitude of reasons for my rush, between the war preparations for the conflict with the Chorus, the strange correspondence the Maestro received from both the Chroniclers and the Foundation—something that prompted him to send me on a "vacation" after this—and this errand being suspiciously open-ended.
But the truth was simpler than any conspiracy...
I was tired...so very tired.
Not physically—I'd been trained for that.
But mentally. Bone-deep fatigue from the constant grind, the relentless chase, the impossible weight of always needing to be prepared.
((I just want this done...))
I rolled my shoulders once, cracked the tension from my neck, and took a step toward the unseen entrance hidden somewhere within the forest edge.
No more delays.
I reopened my [Mana Sense], this time layering it with a precision filter—enough to trace the mana's flow without letting the full torrent punch me in the face again. Even with the dampening, I could still feel the ambient energy vibrating against my skin like distant thunder, but it was manageable now—controlled.
((Alright...show me the path))
The currents of mana shimmered into view, threads of light weaving through the world like veins beneath the skin. Most of them drifted harmlessly into the forest, pooling in roots, soil, and air—but there was one strand that pulsed with unnatural density. A slow, steady rhythm. Intentional. Leading somewhere.
""...""
I followed it carefully.
The flow twisted between the trees, subtle at first—coiling and curling like a stream hidden beneath fallen leaves. It wasn't until I pushed deeper into the foliage that I noticed something strange.
((...That tree—))
Tucked away within a tight cluster of pine and maple was a white oak. A tall one. Its bark was pale, almost silver, and it shimmered faintly under the filtered sunlight. I would've overlooked it entirely if it weren't for the mana flow converging around its roots like water draining into a sink.
""A white oak? That's not supposed to be here""
A white oak shouldn't exist here. White oaks don't grow in this region, not at this elevation. And yet...there it was, towering, silent, watching.
((I walked right past it earlier...I guess what they say about hiding a tree in the forest was right))
I stepped closer, wary now. The tree stood perfectly still, not even swaying in the breeze, as if untouched by the world around it. The bark was unblemished. Too smooth. Too perfect.
((Definitely not natural...))
I reached out, fingers brushing against the trunk—cold. Not like wood. Like stone pretending to be wood.
""I wonder if...""
I took a breath and snapped off a branch near shoulder height.
*Snap!*
The moment it cracked—
The world blinked.
The air collapsed inward with a *pop!*, pressure dropping out from beneath my feet.
""—!""
I braced myself for what was to come.
Light bent and distorted, the forest vanished around me.
And I was gone...