[Chapter 70. It’s Not That Simple]
Another Level 5 dungeon awaited him at his next destination, its entrance pulsing with a rhythmic, low-frequency hum from within the hollow of a massive, fungus-covered tree. The ancient bark was thick with moss, and the air around it felt heavy with the scent of damp earth and rot. Searanox dismounted from his travel drone, his boots sinking slightly into the loamy, over-saturated soil of the forest floor. He approached the dark opening, took a steadying breath, and stepped through the swirling, iridescent portal, vanishing instantly from the surface world.
The humid, oppressive smell of decay and stagnant moisture hit him the moment he materialized within the cavern. This dungeon environment was fundamentally different from the Burrow Warrens; the tunnels here were not composed of packed earth, but were instead carved directly from ancient, porous stone. Every visible surface—the walls, the jagged ceiling, and the uneven floor—was covered in a thick, living carpet of phosphorescent mycelium. This fungal network cast an eerie, flickering green-blue glow throughout the space, illuminating the floating spores that danced in the air like radioactive dust.
Fleshy, pulsating pods clung to the ceiling like diseased, overripe fruit. They oozed a sluggish, viscous liquid that dripped steadily into small, sickly-scented pools on the floor below, creating a rhythmic that echoed through the silence.
Searanox summoned his drones with a flick of his mental commands. Three basic air drones shot ahead of him, their red optical lenses cutting through the thick fungal haze to map the immediate surroundings. A recon drone followed close behind, its violet lens sweeping across the cavern walls to detect hidden vents or structural weaknesses. He proceeded with measured, cautious steps, keeping two additional air drones flanking him as he moved deeper into the heart of the pulsating fungal chamber.
Each footstep sent ripples of dull blue light through the mycelium beneath his heavy boots, the vast network of fungal threads responding to his weight and presence. The air grew progressively thicker with the cloying sweetness of rot, mixing with the sharp, metallic scent of damp stone.
It wasn't long before the inhabitants of the cave made themselves known. Spore-carriers emerged from the deep shadows of the side tunnels, their grey, leathery skin stretched tight over gaunt, skeletal frames. Their heads were smooth, featureless domes—lacking eyes, noses, or ears—with only gaping, circular mouths that hung perpetually open. Their movements were jerky, twitchy, and uncoordinated, giving the distinct impression that their bodies were merely hollow puppets being operated by the fungal network that permeated the entire cavern system.
At the same time, Cave Stalkers began to scuttle along the high walls and the ceiling. Their insectoid forms were barely visible beneath thick, suffocating layers of pulsating fungi that served as a form of natural camouflage. Multi-jointed legs carried them with unsettling speed, their chitinous bodies glistening with the same sickly bioluminescent glow as the mycelium below. Their presence created a constant, dry rustling sound that seemed to emanate from every direction at once, making it impossible to pin down a single target by sound alone.
Searanox's drones, however, did not rely on sound. They moved with clinical efficiency. Crimson energy beams lanced through the dim cavern, cutting down Spore-carriers and Cave Stalkers with mathematical precision. The air quickly filled with the acrid, burning smell of vaporized fungus and sizzling alien flesh as his forces systematically cleared the chamber. The rate of elimination was staggering compared to the cramped, narrow tunnels of the previous dungeon; this vast, open space allowed his drones to maximize their tactical advantage and firing lines.
At the very center of the cavern, a colossal fungal mass pulsated with a slow, rhythmic beat, resembling a giant, diseased heart. It was a grotesque amalgamation of thick, rope-like tendrils and bulbous, translucent growths that ranged in color from a sickly lime green to a deep, bruised purple. The surface of the mass glistened with a thick, viscous liquid that dripped steadily onto the floor, causing bright flashes of blue light with every drop that hit the mycelial carpet. No System window appeared initially; the mass seemed to defy standard classification until Searanox drew within a few meters of its outer membrane.
Just as the counter began its countdown, the cave was effectively flooded with a tide of beasts. They poured from the crevices and shadows in a relentless wave of grey flesh and clicking mandibles.
Recognizing the shift in intensity, Searanox dismissed his recon drone and prepared to increase his firepower. His mental logic tripped for a split second as he realized that his internal capacity had expanded. he realized,
With that realization, he summoned two more assault drones into the fray, bringing his active total to five offensive assault units and five basic air drones. Crimson beams tore through the mounting horde of beasts, creating a perimeter of death. Despite the overwhelming numbers, not a single creature managed to come closer than twenty meters to Searanox. He stood at the center of the storm, a silent commander. He knew that if he were here alone without his mechanical guardians, or even with a standard team of four other Awakened, this would have been an incredibly desperate battle. The sheer volume of enemies would have been a lethal challenge for any traditional party.
The ten minutes dragged by with agonizing slowness. He stood there, watching as wave after wave of fungal puppets fell to a continuous cascade of crimson light. Eventually, the timer hit zero. As the last of the creatures dropped dead to the floor, the final System window appeared.
He glanced over at the Mycelial Heart and saw that the life had drained from it. It had shriveled away into a grey, dried-out husk, its rhythmic pulsing stopped forever. The only thought that crossed his mind was how dangerous this dungeon would be for normal Awakened players. For him, it had simply been a necessary expenditure of time. The density of the beasts provided excellent experience, but after reaching Level 10, this dungeon would likely lose all its practical value. To enter it any earlier than that, however, would be a death sentence for most.
Inside the ornate reward chest that materialized, he found several familiar items, with one notable exception. It was a dagger, its blade forged from a rough, swirling material that reminded him of high-quality Damascus steel, though with a distinctively alien hue. As he gripped the hilt, a detailed System window opened.
He gathered the silver coins, the lodestone, and the sickly-looking dagger, storing them safely inside his storage ring. He took a long, deep breath as he stood up; the air inside the cavern was now noticeably fresher and clearer than it had been upon his arrival. The cloying scent of rot had vanished along with the Heart.
Searanox dismissed his combat drones and summoned ten recon drones to perform a final, exhaustive scan of the entire cave. He waited for five minutes, but the drones returned nothing of interest—no hidden rooms, no secret loot, and no lingering threats.
He was about to dismiss the recon units when a sudden experimental thought occurred to him:
Testing the limits of the system, he stepped through the exit portal while his drones were still active. As he emerged back into the sunlight before the massive mossy tree, he checked the dungeon's status through his interface.
The dungeon was officially closed for its reset period, and he immediately felt his mental connection to the drones sever. They had not followed him through the portal. With a small mental shrug at the lost resources, he mounted his travel drone.
"A six-hour dormant time… Just rub it in, why don't you," he muttered, swearing under his breath at the System.
As the travel drone picked up speed, heading back toward the central tower, he opened his status screen for a final check of the day. He let out a long, low whistle of surprise. Every single one of his primary stats had now surpassed the one-hundred-point threshold. His Tech Points were approaching nine hundred, and his TP regeneration rate had climbed to nineteen per minute. He spent the remainder of the flight reviewing every system and submenu he could access, searching for any other hidden changes or unlocks, but for now, his massive stat growth remained the highlight of his progress.
