Fading, the brink of death, and yet, still so much more remains.

  The scent of a human soul was putrid, the most disgusting thing I’ve ever smelled. Unlike the souls of the rats which were dead for a long time, this soul was young, still blossoming. Even if it did bloom, I doubt it’d give me any meaningful energy nor would I even want its energy.

  After taking two or three sharp turns and searching the nearby rooms, I found it. A man lying in the corner of a small room, hugging a longsword tightly against his chest. His body was obscured by a brown cloak which was covered in—fresh—crimson blood and various scratch marks.

  Sound of clacking metal could be heard when the man made the tiniest move to look up at me. His dark eyes and pale skin barely peeking from beneath the hood of his tattered cloak. Then, then there was nothing; no burst of movement nor an attempt at one.

  I could feel clear hostile intent exuding from the human, but he didn’t move—couldn’t. The man was defenseless as my feet cautiously brought me closer. When I came in range of the sword, he still didn’t move, all but confirming my earlier assumption.

  “F…” He muttered something.

  Focusing on his voice, I could make out some words and surprisingly, understood them too.

  “H… food…hungry… cold…” He weakly said.

  “Hwuu… Nwuu…” I sighed before slwoly shaking my head.

  After seeing my response, the man just continued breathing, as if waiting for something. So, I began.

  Raising a clawed hand, I brought it down on the man’s head. My talons cleaved through it like moving through water with some light resistance. His body fell to the side, dull red blood pooling out and seeping through the gaps in the stone floor.

  My chest felt heavy when it should’ve been the opposite. Narrowing my eyes at the man’s lifeless body, I gripped the hem of his cloak and threw it off to reveal plated armor below. A net of cracks, bent metal, and blood soaked armor covered the men up to his neck.

  Maybe it looked dauntless once but that was then and this was now. The armor was beyond useless in its current state.

  Bringing the blood soaked cloak to my nose, I sniffed it once and then gritted my teeth.

  “Hrrrrrrrrr! Huwruuu!”

  More soaked my hands after the deed was done and the copse was no more than lumps of flesh.

  Seems that my kin had encountered this human before me. They were the one’s who brought this human down to such a sorry state. Unfortunately, they were not able to finish him off…

  The weight didn’t lessen at all. It only grew much, much heavier.

  ***

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  During my frenzied state, the armor got even more damaged. Leaving only rended metal for me to bring back, using the tattered brown cloak as a makeshift bag. Some of it had to be carried by hand like the breastplate and greaves yet I still had to leave some behind.

  On my way to the [Core Room] I decided to search around for a storage room with a backpack or maybe a human that has or had one with them. Didn’t find anything so now all that’s left is to enter the… where’s the [Core Room]? This was definitely the place, there was a me shaped hole in the wall but it was a dead end.

  I jabbed my torch at the wall. It was solid; not hollow.

  Unless the [Core Room] somehow hid itself deeper underground or something then it’s like it never existed in the first place.

  Maybe I was mistaken? My mental map could be wrong. Yeah, that’s all it is…

  Futile. My search around the nearby area proved useless since everything past this point was either a long hallway leading to a dead end or a bunch of empty rooms. So I shifted my focus into finding a bag again.

  Finding one of my kin would be easier than finding specific items so I gave up. On finding a bag, that is. Instead, I took the liberty of making my own.

  I took a half broken barrel and poked some holes near the top and bottom, big enough for some old rope I found. Two strips of rope were used as straps and the cloak covered the large open hole. After that, well, the barrel backpack was completed!

  “Hwaaa…”

  It’s a bit uncomfortable, but at least I could carry the rest of the armor scraps.

  Making it back to the room where I found the dying man was of no trouble at all, proving that my mental map was at least trustworthy. However, this made me worried that the [Core Room] really did just disappear along with any secrets it may have held. Whatever, I’m not that bummed out about it.

  After all, the human left me with another useful thing—a sword.

  Let’s return to those 3 main conclusions I had.

  The second main conclusion was that the [Dungeon] lacked anything of value.

  There were very few useful material apart from broken crates, barrels and those metal cages. Usually, a [Dungeon] would hold loot, valuable treasure and magical items, anything that entices humans to enter one. This particular one was strange in that it had none of those things.

  No food, no raw materials, and most importantly—no weapons.

  Meaning that this longsword might be the most valuable thing in the entire [Dungeon] right now. My kin’s talons and claws are sharper than a blade, but they lacked the range of human weapons. Unless my kin find another human or learn to create weapons of their own…

  “Hiwuuu~!”

  I could be the most powerful thing here now, hehehe~!

  That realization made me feel excited to return and show Humi all the cool stuff I’ve found.

  ***

  (POV ???)

  It took me years to find his place.

  7 years searching the west Arhawian seaside towns all the way up north where I spent 5 years learning all about Barbarian culture and warfare. Then there was that 6 years of trekking through the wilderness and battlefields in order to reach the other side of the continent and another 6 to search it without much luck. When finally, I received help, and from an Oracle as well.

  ‘In 3 years, your search shall come to an end and you will find that which you have been seeking all this time.’

  That’s most of what he told.

  Then I granted his wish and severed his head from his body.

  A more peaceful end than the slow, excruciating death of his curse—Soul Decay. Nobody knows the origin of this curse and I’ve wasted too much time searching for the cause. When I should’ve been looking for you—my one and only light.

  Now, the doors to hell have opened and I descend down a long, narrow staircase.

  Who knew there was a [Dungeon] located deep beneath the mountain range near Arhion Fort?

  Near OUR home as well…

  “Foolish. If he’s here then it’s already too late, isn’t it?” My voice disappeared into the dark and silent air.

  This place was already beginning to eat away at me. Tearing my already wavering faith apart, filling me with dread, weighing down on my mind and stoking the flames of my boiling hatred. It made me want to draw my sword and collapse the tunnel, sealing them away for good.

  That was… that was also incredibly foolish to even consider doing.

  A person like me managed so why couldn’t the others survive too?