"Young master!"
THUD!
Berno’s voice echoed faintly from above, but by the ti it reached , I was already at the bottom.
For a brief mont, I felt weightless—like the world had stopped moving. Then my boots hit solid ground, sending a dull vibration up my legs.
It was dark. Completely, suffocatingly dark.
Not the kind of darkness you get at night, but sothing heavier, thicker—like a living shadow pressing down on everything.
I couldn’t see a thing, not even my own hand in front of my face.
Reaching for my magic bracelet, I pulled out a small lamp from the subspace storage. The faint hum of mana resonated as I activated it, and a soft white glow blood from the crystal inside.
But the light didn’t spread.
Instead, it was as if the darkness absorbed it, swallowing it whole. The glow barely illuminated a few feet around before fading into the black haze.
"What the hell...?" I muttered under my breath.
A cold shiver crawled down my spine. Even with the lamp, the air felt heavy and damp, like the walls themselves were breathing.
If I had co here alone, I probably wouldn’t have dared to move a single step.
But I wasn’t alone.
Because I knew—no matter what—I wouldn’t stay down here by myself for long.
THUD!
Right on cue, another impact echoed behind .
I turned just as Berno landed, dust scattering around his boots.
He straightened up imdiately, his expression twisted between irritation and concern. "Young master, what were you thinking?!"
I gave him a sheepish grin. "I knew you’d follow."
He exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples as if trying to calm himself. "You’re going to give gray hair before my ti."
I chuckled softly, though the sound felt strangely hollow in this oppressive silence.
"...Sigh. Why am I even in a place like this?"
Berno’s voice echoed faintly behind , heavy with resignation.
"When the employer says jump, you ask how high," I replied without looking back.
"You’ve got a lot of complaints," I added casually.
He muttered sothing under his breath that I decided not to catch. I could practically feel his glare burning into the back of my head.
"Don’t tell you entered the dungeon last ti in this sa reckless manner?" he asked finally, his tone laced with disbelief.
"...Well," I said, scratching my cheek awkwardly. "That was... kind of an accident."
"An accident," he repeated flatly, his voice dripping with skepticism.
"Yeah. A sudden accident," I said defensively. "How was I supposed to know there was a dungeon there? If I had known, I wouldn’t have gone anywhere near it."
Berno sighed again, the sound of a man who had long since accepted that logic was useless against .
"Still," I added with a faint grin, "that little detour helped fix my magic problem. So I’d say it wasn’t all bad."
Berno didn’t respond imdiately. I could hear his boots scuff against the ground as he walked, keeping a cautious distance behind .
"...You really don’t learn, do you?" he muttered under his breath.
I pretended not to hear.
As we continued deeper, I found myself scratching my head, trying to recall how long it had been since that incident.
"...Ah," I murmured. "Co to think of it, it hasn’t even been a week yet, huh?"
So much had happened in such a short ti—terrorist attacks, blood mages, royal audiences—it honestly felt like a month had passed.
I exhaled softly, shaking off the thought.
"Let’s just get this over with," I said, stepping further into the dim corridor.
Behind , Berno grumbled sothing incoherent but eventually followed.
But then—
Thud.
"Ugh...!"
The sudden noise made tense up. I turned my head quickly, scanning the shadows for the source of the sound.
That’s when I spotted Berno.
He was crouched down, shoulders slightly hunched, his eyes darting around the dimly lit space like a cornered animal.
"...Seriously?" I muttered. "You don’t like this kind of thing?"
"No," he said imdiately, his voice firm but laced with unease. "I absolutely hate it."
I blinked at him. This was Berno—the sa guy who could swing a greatsword like it weighed nothing, who’d once taken down a beast twice his size without breaking a sweat. And now he looked ready to bolt at the sound of a pebble.
He must’ve noticed the look I gave him, because he quickly straightened up and added, "You can’t exactly cut ghosts with a sword, can you?"
"...Fair point," I admitted with a shrug.
Ghosts—or at least the idea of them—were impossible to fight with steel. Still, I couldn’t help the smirk tugging at my lips.
"Relax," I said, brushing so dust off my sleeve. "There’s no such thing as ghosts."
Probably.
The last word echoed in my mind like a whisper I didn’t want to acknowledge.
As we walked deeper into the corridor, the silence grew heavier. Even our footsteps sounded damp, swallowed by the strange, cold air.
Berno kept glancing around, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword as if that would sohow help against a spirit.
Then—
"Hm? What’s that...?"
I stopped mid-step, squinting ahead.
Unlike the empty darkness from before, faint shapes began to erge in the dim light.
Scattered objects—small, uneven silhouettes—were strewn across the floor ahead.
My pulse quickened. Finally, sothing.
Sensing that this might be what I’d been hoping for, I quickened my pace, my boots echoing faintly against the cold stone floor.
Berno, who was examining a strange wall covered in a thin white film, suddenly spoke.
"It’s a barrier," he muttered, running his hand along the surface.
I clicked my tongue. "A barrier, huh."
It made sense. A protective wall created through magic to block intruders.
My eyes wandered across the room. There was a faded mural etched into the opposite wall—strange symbols woven together into a pattern I couldn’t quite decipher.
On the floor, scattered among the debris, were what looked like miniature models—gears, fragnts, maybe even parts of so chanism.
It didn’t take long to figure it out.
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