WebNovels

Chapter 7 - Chapter 7: God, It Feels Good to Be a Mage

Lucas slipped out of the chamber and back into one of the Dungeon's main corridors.

But instead of relaxing, he grew even more alert.

Every veteran in Orario knew this rule by heart:

Every line in the Adventurer's Handbook was written in blood.

Its advice wasn't perfect—but the people who'd lived long enough to criticize it were few and far between.

Even so, Lucas wasn't the type to follow the handbook blindly. The Dungeon always had new ways to screw with you. That was how Irregulars were born, after all.

A faint hiss of air brushed past his ear.

He moved before thinking—rolling hard to the side.

Stone chips exploded where he'd just been standing, a long slash gouged deep into the floor.

"Shit," he spat, pushing himself up, dust clinging to his cloak.

Didn't bother checking what it was. He flung his cloak aside, arm rising in one smooth motion, mind surging hot through his veins.

"Scorch!"

Two-thirds of a second of charge time.

The world ignited.

A flash of orange light, a hiss of boiling air, and the attacker—a Dungeon Lizard—was instantly engulfed in fire. The stench of charred meat filled the tunnel.

"Damn gecko," Lucas muttered, slapping the dust off his cloak.

If there was one monster universally despised in the upper floors, it was the Dungeon Lizard.

Those tea-brown bastards clung silently to ceilings and walls, blending into the stone like living traps. Then, the moment an adventurer let their guard down—BAM. Claws in your back.

More newbies got their first scar from those things than any other monster in the Dungeon.

Lucas had been one of them. His first encounter ended with him rolling through the dirt, screaming curses while running for his life.

That was the day he learned how much the Dungeon hated adventurers.

"Persistent little shits," he grumbled, prying out the Magic Stone. "If only I had some kind of detection skill… I've got a mind pool big enough to run an entire Familia, but no way to see ambushes coming."

He sighed, moving on.

A few Kobolds, Goblins, and Dungeon Lizards later, he reached the passage leading down to the sixth floor.

The stone steps descended deep into the earth, wide enough for three people side by side.

Lucas stopped to rest, pulling out his Monster Guide and reviewing the data. New monsters. Attack patterns. Weak points.

A gulp of water. A steadying breath. Then—down he went.

The sixth floor. Still part of the upper section of the Dungeon, but the middle stretch of it.

According to the Adventurer's Handbook and the Guild's official guidelines:

Floors 1–4 were for fresh recruits, with Stats around rank I to H. Standard newbies. Exceptions didn't count.

Floors 5–7, though—that was where the real work started. Adventurers here typically had G to F-ranked Stats, solid experience, and enough skill to survive when things went wrong.

Lucas had more than earned that level. He'd just been cautious up to now—sticking to safer floors, because hey, he liked being alive.

But now? He had Scorch, a reliable ranged Magic spell. That changed everything.

He tightened his grip on his short sword and stepped forward.

The air grew darker. The faint golden glow of the upper floors faded into cold blues and greys. The tunnels widened, ceilings stretching high overhead.

Everyone knew the rule: the deeper you went, the bigger the Dungeon got.

"Alright," he whispered. "Let's see what you've got."

He crept forward carefully, every sense straining.

And then the Dungeon answered.

Rumble.

The walls split open on either side of him, stone cracking as black shapes clawed their way free.

"...Oh, come on."

He counted fast. "One, two, three… seven. Seven War Shadows. Great."

He grimaced. "Really rolling out the red carpet today, huh?"

Drawing in a slow breath, he raised his hand. Magic pulsed at his fingertips.

"Alright. Let's dance."

The War Shadows stood tall and thin, their bodies pitch-black, their faces shaped like crosses with a single mirrored lens gleaming faintly in the center.

They were humanoid in outline, but wrong in every detail—distorted limbs, too-smooth movements, no sound except the scrape of claws.

"Textbook War Shadows," Lucas murmured, analyzing even as his mind built. "Close-range fighters. Claw-based melee. Short reach, but deadly if they get in. Keep five meters minimum."

He smiled faintly. "Got it."

"Scorch!"

He cast before the first one even landed.

Fire erupted, consuming the lead Shadow before it could finish forming. It vanished in a puff of black smoke, leaving only ash.

"Not bad," Lucas mused. "No blood, no body. Clean."

"Scorch!"

Another blast. Another Shadow gone.

The rest screeched soundlessly, mirror-eyes flashing crimson as they lunged. Claws snapped forward with terrifying speed, slicing through air like knives.

"Whoa—faster than expected!"

He spun away, retreating while firing back, rhythm steady—run, aim, fire.

"Scorch, Scorch, Scorch!"

Flames burst one after another, painting the tunnel in strobe-light flashes of orange and red.

By the time the smoke cleared, only two Shadows remained.

He pivoted sharply, sliding across the stone floor, cloak trailing as he came up low.

The nearest one lunged.

"Let's see how tough you are up close."

He met it head-on.

"CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!"

Steel met claw, sparks flying. The War Shadow's movements were blindingly quick, its hooks carving arcs through the air.

"Fast. Agile. But weak endurance… and that Magic Stone weak point's way too exposed."

He gritted his teeth as the creature slashed again—its claws cutting deep grooves into the wall.

"Yeah, no wonder these things drop the War Shadow Finger Blade. Those claws are vicious."

He knocked one strike aside and used the recoil to hop back, right arm leveling.

"Game over."

"Scorch!"

The monster went up in fire. Its body twisted once—and vanished into smoke.

--

"Crackle."

Lucas stepped through the ashes, boots leaving black prints on the stone.

He pocketed the Magic Stones, took a swig from his waterskin, and let out a low whistle.

"Seven monsters, all roughly my level, gone just like that."

He grinned to himself. "Without Scorch, that would've been a nightmare. Potions, gear repairs, maybe even a retreat—and if they didn't drop anything? Total loss."

He shook his head, half-laughing. "No wonder those exploration-type Familias are always broke. Magic Stones alone barely cover expenses."

Taking another drink, he leaned back against the wall and smiled.

"Man… it feels good to be a mage."

More Chapters