Under the moonlight, Lakus sat on a fallen log, two dead forest bears lying nearby.
“Another bear…”
He was sick of bears. Last time, it was because of a tyrant bear that his squad was wiped out, the Sacred Tome lost, and he was savagely punished upon return.
Then he was sent to harass a human city, only to walk into an ambush—barely escaping alive.
Only afterward did he learn that it had been a trap staged by humans under the guise of a “Hero Summoning,” which destroyed Lord Shadowfiend.
His master, Elenoa, had been there as well. But since she betrayed Shadowfiend, she was punished by the emperor upon returning.
When Lakus had seen her afterward, he could tell at a glance she was seething with anger—and of course she vented it all on him.
He could still remember her words: “Recover the Sacred Tome and redeem yourself. You will be promoted. Fail, and just die out there.”
Yet she hadn’t given him even a single subordinate. Obviously, she was using him as a disposable scout.
Lakus was certain: once he left, Elenoa must have sent another full team behind him. And he was sure she’d tampered with him somehow—either with tracking or death playback.“That damned… damned…”
He bit his tongue.
No, he didn’t dare curse aloud. Fear of superiors was etched into the bones of vampires—even half-bloods like him.
“I won’t die. I’m a genius! I’ll find the Sacred Tome, then rise… and rise again!”
This wasn’t just boasting. At only level 40, not yet promoted, he had already awakened the innate skill [Blood Control]. That indeed marked him as a prodigy.
Muttering encouragement to himself, Lakus pulled out a small metal plate and began filing his nails.
He lacked disguise skills, but vampires weren’t too different from humans.
A little powder concealed his pale complexion.
As for his nails and fangs—he ground them down.
The metal plate was a minor magical tool from the Hermit Empire. Filing teeth and nails with it left a thin magic layer, temporarily preventing regrowth. One filing lasted two to three days.
Cheap and convenient—the only problem was, grinding away one’s fangs was deeply shameful for a vampire.
But he had no time to care about pride.
Once finished, he rose and set off toward the Amethyst Dungeon. To avoid people, he circled around Windmute Town, approaching from the forest, and timed his entry at night.
Sure enough, when he reached the dungeon gates, only two night guards stood there.
“So late, going in alone?” drawled Aiden, yawning. He’d noticed Lakus.
It was odd the man came from the forest, but he still gave a greeting.
They were stationed here to send warnings in emergencies, not to interrogate every adventurer.
“Just gathering some glowgrass, no need for a party!” Lakus lied smoothly.
He thought that would be the end of it, but the guards blinked in surprise, giving him another look. Still, they said nothing more.
Once he’d gone inside, the other guard asked: “Senior, what rank is he? Do you know him?”
Aiden rolled his eyes. “How would I know? I don’t know every high-rank adventurer. But if he’s gathering glowgrass alone, at minimum he’s Gold rank. Could even be Diamond…”
Lakus found their looks strange but didn’t dwell on it. He’d gotten inside safely.
He drew from his coat a faintly glowing black stone. Compared to before, its light seemed dimmer.
“So the Sacred Tome really is in this dungeon.”
It was a special device, refined by placing a magic crystal in the Tome’s native environment. The closer it drew to the Tome, the darker it grew.
Thanks to this, Lakus had tracked it all the way here.
But the tool’s lifespan was limited. He had to find the Tome before it burned out—he couldn’t afford another failure.
“Wait… Was the Amethyst Dungeon always this dark?”
He muttered, staring at the corridor lit only by scattered faint glows.
Still, with darkvision, he managed.
As he descended, realization struck—he’d made a mistake.
This dungeon… didn’t have glowgrass, did it?
He’d never been here before. His map didn’t mention such details. But glowgrass was a staple plant in most dungeons—he’d assumed it grew here too.
Instead, all he saw were bioluminescent mushrooms!
Not good…
If there was no glowgrass, then his earlier excuse could become a flaw. If those guards were sharp, they might report him in Windmute.
“Damn it! Damn it!”
He quickened his pace. He had to find the Tome and leave.
The journey wasn’t hard. Pujis, scorpions, snakes—he dispatched them easily.
At last, on the fifth floor, the black stone’s glow was nearly gone.
Here!
In his mind, either the adventurer who’d stolen the Tome had died here, or else the Tome’s curse had acted up again, making its holder slaughter passersby in secret.
A wooden sign at the exit caught his eye.
“What’s this? Fifth-floor regulations…”
He skimmed it, then dismissed it.
Maybe useful, but one—he was here for the Tome, not to stick to rules about walking on mushroom paths.
Two—it was just the fifth floor. Max level 25. Trivial.
Following the black stone’s pull, Lakus soon strayed off the mushroom road.
Unexpectedly, nothing hindered him. Aside from sticky mycelium clinging to his boots, there were no traps, no monsters.
He hadn’t met a single living thing. Was this floor deserted?
Not until he reached the mushroom forest did he encounter creatures.
Pujis, camouflaged against the mushroom trunks.
He stumbled into one by accident, only realizing when he felt its squishy body.
But these Pujis had no aggression, no sense of territory. Even with him walking among them, they didn’t react.
That suited him fine. No need for a fight.
Watching the black stone dim to near nothing, Lakus felt his dead heart almost beating again.
At last, he stood before a stone pedestal.
???
Not what he’d expected.
He’d thought he’d face one—or several—adventurers enthralled by the Tome, fighting them to seize it.
Or maybe he’d find it beside a skeleton.
But why… a pedestal?
Blood gathered at his fingertip, forming a bullet. He prepared to blast it apart.
But before he fired, the pedestal acted first.
“What!?”
Energy surged. Lakus staggered back two steps just before it exploded.
Shards slashed his face, but he had no time for the pain.
Amid the wreckage, he glimpsed it—the yellow-bound book he longed for!
Still, he clung to reason, scanning around. No one in sight.
He rushed forward, snatched it up, flipped it over.
“Yes! The Sacred Tome! It’s real!”
In his excitement, the Tome fell open slightly.
“No!”
He hurried to shut it. He knew well how irresistible its charm was. Just a few words could enthrall him.
But even in that instant, he’d glimpsed some scorched pages, covered in dense words:
[Run run run run run]
What did that mean?
Whoosh—!
A noise behind!
Lakus spun, hurling a blood spike.
It struck Big Black Mushroom’s dark scales—only to burst like water.
The power felt no stronger than a Miraj’s Spit Arrow.
But Lakus knew that attack should’ve pierced even a tyrant bear…
Whoosh—!
Big Black Mushroom stepped closer. Lakus retreated until his back hit the stone wall.
The Tome’s pages flapped open again, exposing words:
[For the record, this isn’t my fault!]
Sorry for the late update—starting to build backlog now…