dreams spun in berries & fluff

    Chapter 13. The Whereabouts of the Sword (3)

    ā€œOh! Hunter Gong Sijin!ā€

    The moment he stepped out of the car, voices rang out calling Sijin’s name from every direction. Smiling brightly as he waved, Sijin approached the cluster of staff waiting nearby.

    ā€œIt’s been a while, Officer. Has entry already finished?ā€

    The gate shimmered with a black ripple. At Sijin’s question, the official tucked his tablet under his arm.

    ā€œIt finished thirty minutes ago.ā€

    ā€œAh, that’s a shame. We have one more party member… Is it too late for him to join?ā€

    He gestured behind him. The official glanced over Sijin’s shoulder.

    A man stood there like a shadow, the hood of his Yollak guild sweatshirt pulled so low only the tip of his nose and lips were visible.

    The official drew out his tablet.

    ā€œIt’s possible. Hunter, your name?ā€

    ā€œYurian. I just completed registration today, so it probably won’t show in the system yet.ā€

    Sijin casually leaned in to peek at the tablet. As expected, when the name was entered, it returned No Data Found. The official scratched his head.

    ā€œIf it isn’t verified, I can’t permit entryā€¦ā€

    ā€œOf course, I understand. But we just returned from the Association office together, so the system update must not have gone through yet. I’d prefer to wait, but this friend would really benefit from joining the team. As you know, it’s not every day a rookie gets to raid alongside Hunter Siyoung.ā€

    The official’s expression softened; that reasoning was hard to argue.

    Everyone knew Gong Siyoung rarely teamed up with others.

    On the rare occasions he did, it was usually because the dungeon rank was extremely high—hardly a place to toss a newcomer into.

    ā€œBut this one’s already been cleared by Hunter Siyoung once. It’s A-rank, so it should be safe.ā€

    ā€œWell… all right. Hunter Yurian, please come this way.ā€

    Not a single thought that Yollak’s guild master could be lying crossed the official’s mind.

    Sijin winked at Yurian.

    ā€œTake care in there.ā€

    Not wanting to bungle things and draw suspicion, Yurian quickly headed toward the gate.

    ā€œApril 7th, 14:07—A-rank dungeon entry authorized. Yollak guild’s Hunter Yurian, please enter.ā€

    Doing as instructed, he crossed the threshold. A gust of wind blew his hood back; a strange, heavy sensation swept across his body.

    When he opened his eyes, a foreign landscape stretched before him. The mana, compared to outside, surged thick and vibrant. He inhaled deeply, suppressing a gasp.

    ā€œCold.ā€

    Except for the overflowing mana, nothing resembled the dungeon he’d been in previously. Nothing at all.

    Was this really the same place? Surely Sijin hadn’t brought him to the wrong location?

    Where ash once fell, now pure white snow drifted from the sky. Yurian extended a hand; the snowflake melted to nothing on his palm.

    A frigid wind scraped across his cheek, and his shoulders shivered. He curled his fingers.

    There was no one to ask—nothing but ice and snow in every direction. After surveying a while, Yurian reached his own conclusion:

    ā€œGuess dungeons just… change like that.ā€

    Perhaps every time one entered, the environment shifted.

    Had Gong Sijin heard that thought, he would have fainted on the spot.

    Yurian trudged forward. Thanks to Sijin’s smooth lie, entry had gone without issue. He recalled the explanation Sijin gave him earlier:

    ā€œThere are three layers to a dungeon: the exploration area, the deep area, and the core.ā€

    At the entrance—the exploration area—only low-tier monsters appeared.

    Go farther, and one entered the deep area, where difficulty rose sharply.

    Monsters there varied by dungeon, and while one could sneak past them, clearing them was safer if one hoped to retreat alive.

    Beyond that lay the core. At its center was the boss monster.

    Only by slaying the boss could the exit gate activate.

    Only after hearing the explanation did Yurian understand why Siyoung had been hunting so obsessively.

    So the pack of Hellhounds he defeated the previous time must have been the boss. That was why the return gate had opened.

    ā€œHe could’ve just said so.ā€

    Both brothers, yet one explained so clearly, and the other… well. Though that stubbornness was rather cute.

    Come to think of it, Siyoung should be somewhere in here too. Yurian lifted his head, scanning the surroundings, then decided.

    He invoked magic. His body rose gently, featherlight, as he pushed off the ground.

    Snow gusted everywhere, painting the world in shifting white and dull gray.

    He turned slowly in the air, searching for a familiar head of midnight-black hair. Nothing resembling a path was visible.

    ā€œWhere’s my sword, anyway?ā€

    He needed to find it, and find Siyoung.

    Movement flickered ahead—an approaching swarm of ice spiders. Yurian scratched his chin.

    ā€œColdwebs?ā€

    There were at least ten. Before landing, he conjured a flame in his palm.

    As soon as the spiders entered range, he hurled it. Flames erupted, swallowing the cluster whole.

    Coldwebs weren’t difficult foes—not unless they swarmed and trapped one in freezing silk. But if burned early, no problem.

    Any that skittered free were kicked back into the fire.

    Screeches mingled with crackling flames until the last monster shrieked and fell silent.

    Yurian crouched beside the dying embers, avoiding charred spider husks. The fire thawed his numb fingers; warmth tingled pleasantly.

    Sijin hadn’t mentioned needing to do anything here—only to enjoy himself, use his ā€œskills,ā€ and find his sword.

    And he’d given Yurian the small rectangular device currently clipped to his chest, its red light blinking steadily. Yurian tapped at a corner, fascinated.

    ā€œSo… what now?ā€

    The mana here sharpened his mind again. Find the sword first—but after?

    A question tugged at him.

    He came here through this place—so wasn’t it possible a path home existed somewhere within it?

    If there was a way back, could he… leave?

    He stood, dusting off his pants.

    ā€œFirst, find the swordā€¦ā€

    Even if a path existed—did he really want to return?

    Life here was confusing, full of things he didn’t understand—but warm, safe, strangely comforting.

    Home… had never been particularly gentle.

    Still, the thought tangled in his chest.

    He stared at the footprints he’d left in the snow.

    ā€œIf I go back… it’s not like anything great is waiting.ā€

    Just then, the ground shook violently. He dropped low and cast a shield instinctively.

    BOOOOM—!

    A deafening crash, and then rumbling echoed across the frozen expanse.

    Mana surged thickly in the distance—a storm gathering.

    That had to be the core area. Siyoung would be there, fighting the boss.

    Without hesitation, Yurian moved. Surging wind lifted him as he shot toward the commotion.

    Fear? None. Curiosity burned brighter.

    How would an S-rank hunter fight? Sword? Blade? Magic?

    Here, monsters weren’t very threatening—nothing like true battlefield horrors.

    ā€œI’ll just peek a little… then go find my sword.ā€

    Heart light with anticipation, he sliced through the cold air toward the battle.

     

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