Chapter 3: The Mission
The dungeon entrance loomed ahead—jagged stone and moss-covered archways, its shadow curling out like a warning. As soon as I stepped inside, the temperature dropped, and the air thickened with the damp scent of rot and iron.
I activated my Tracker Skill immediately, eyes narrowing as I scanned the stone floor and walls for any movement… or blood. Faint footprints lit up in my field of vision, marked in soft hues—green for animals, yellow for monsters, and red for… something else. I moved quietly.
Just past the first bend, I spotted them: a horde of goblins. Filthy little things hunched over a half-eaten deer carcass, their jagged teeth gnashing and slurping at flesh. The stench hit me instantly—a foul mix of bile, blood, and decay.
I wrinkled my nose beneath my hood and activated Distraction Field, a soft skill designed to mimic subtle sound illusions. I clicked a pebble further into the hall, luring one of the goblins from the group.
Thunk.
A dagger to the throat silenced the first.
Another came, snorting and sniffing—Snap!—his neck twisted under my gloved hand.
Then, I raised my bow.
Three more goblins remained by the carcass, heads low and jaws wide. I didn't hesitate.
Whip-whip-whip—thud!
Arrows to the skull. They crumpled before their brains could register it.
Silence.
I moved forward, my footsteps echoing faintly in the torch-lit passage. Activating Tracker again, I spotted fresh trails—small, light, agile prints. These weren't goblins.
"…Elvira?" I murmured.
Next to her trail were massive imprints, deep in the mud and moss. I crouched low and pressed my fingers into one. Heavy. Almost too heavy.
"Ogre," I muttered.
The trail ahead split. On the left, I spotted something metallic glinting faintly. I crept closer.
A thin blade, stained with blood—short and curved. Assassin class weapon. I turned it over in my hand and saw a small cat-shaped emblem engraved near the handle.
"Definitely hers."
I tucked it into my belt and moved ahead. Another chamber opened up, and inside, more goblins. These ones were different—leaner, meaner, alert. They weren't feasting. They were guarding something.
A loot chest.
I smirked.
Time to improvise.
I reached into my pouch and pulled out a set of Shock Trap Mines, planting them strategically in a circle pattern. I then activated Illusion Field, morphing my appearance to mimic a bleeding deer limping into the room.
The goblins perked up immediately.
"Rrrargh!"
The first one charged.
Then the rest.
As they closed in on my illusion, they ran straight into my trap. Zap! Crack! Boom!
Electric pulses surged through the room. Goblins flew into walls or dropped twitching on the floor, eyes wide in shock.
I stepped forward, pulled out two daggers, and finished the rest with swift, calculated strikes. Their bodies fell silent.
When the room cleared, I approached the chest.
Click.
Inside, I found a dark green cloak woven with hunter sigils. As soon as I picked it up, my system flared:
You've obtained: Windweaver Cloak (Rare)
+2 Agility
+2 Dexterity
+Stealth Enhancement (Passive)
And just as that appeared—
LEVEL UP!
Level 18 Reached.
I smirked. "Nice."
I draped the cloak over my shoulders and turned to continue deeper. The tunnels narrowed. The light dimmed.
Then…
Sniffle.
A sound. Faint, echoing.
I crept forward, arrow nocked. The sound got clearer—soft, scared, human.
A cry.
And then I saw her.
The crying grew louder as I turned the corner.
That's when I saw her.
She was slumped against the cold dungeon wall, her wrists bound in heavy, rusted chains that clinked with the slightest movement. Her snow-pale skin was streaked with blood, bruises littering her arms and legs. Her cat ears twitched weakly as she stirred, her tail barely flicking.
"Elvira," I whispered, and rushed to her.
One of her eyes fluttered open—sharp green iris dimmed by pain. "Be… careful…" she croaked. "The ogre is—"
Her words froze, and her eyes widened in pure terror.
I didn't even need to hear it. My Detection Skill lit up my HUD like fireworks—Hostile Entity Approaching. Close Range. STRIKE IMMINENT.
I vanished in a blink, thanks to my Hermes Walker subclass, slipping sideways into a flash step of momentum-fueled motion. The ogre's mace whooshed through where I had just stood, the ground erupting into stone and dust from the force of the swing.
From behind it, I threw.
Two throwing knives zipped forward, slicing the air and embedding deep into the ogre's knees—crack!
It roared in agony and dropped to both knees, the blades pinning it to the ground as the nerves around the bone spasmed.
"RrrrrrRAAAAAAGH!!"
The ogre, enraged, began flailing wildly. It reached out and—intentionally—I let it grab me.
Elvira's eyes filled with horror. "No!!"
Pain shot up my ribs as its massive hand crushed around my torso, bringing me toward its gaping, jagged-toothed maw.
I grimaced. "You're gonna regret that…"
I reached into my belt pouch and pulled a Shock Mine. With all my strength, I shoved it into the back of the ogre's throat and activated it.
BZZZZZZZTTT!!
The creature convulsed violently as electricity exploded inside its mouth. I didn't stop.
One. Two. Three more mines—crack-pop-fizz—I launched them into the throat and chest as it howled.
Then came the finisher.
I twisted free, drew my bow in a single smooth motion, aimed between its pulsing red eyes—
TWANG!
The arrow sank into the ogre's skull like a bullet, shattering bone and puncturing its brain.
Silence.
The ogre froze mid-roar.
And fell.
THUD.
I landed on one knee, panting, and brushed dust off my cloak.
Behind me, Elvira stared with wide eyes, her jaw nearly on the floor. "You're… just a hunter class. H-How did you move like that? That wasn't normal…"
I gave her a half-smile. "Maybe I just got lucky."
"That wasn't luck," she said, breathless. "That was… something else."
I didn't answer. Instead, I knelt beside her and used my emergency supplies. A healing vial uncorked—thick and glowing, I pressed it gently to her lips. She sipped weakly, and color slowly returned to her cheeks. Then I picked the lock on her chains, freeing her wrists.
"You dropped this," I said, pulling the cat-engraved assassin blade from my belt and handing it back.
She clutched it like it was sacred. "Thank you…"
Just then—ching!—a light flared behind us.
A Treasure Chest shimmered into view, appearing in the room with soft golden glow. A system alert popped up:
Dungeon Cleared: Orc-Fallen Passage
Reward Unlocked
I opened it.
Inside was a beautifully crafted Longbow, black with silver etchings that shimmered with energy. I grinned.
You've obtained: Starlight Bow (Rare+)
+4 Accuracy
+2 Dexterity
+Moonlight Skill: Silent Volley
And then—
LEVEL UP!
Level 18 → Level 23
Achievement Unlocked:
OGRE SLAYER
Elvira looked dumbfounded. "No way… that ogre should have taken five—five—full hunter teams. And you…"
I laughed softly. "Lucky again."
She narrowed her eyes, not buying it anymore.
"Who are you really?"
I hesitated, then turned, pulled down the side of my cloak to show my wrist… and opened my status screen in front of her.
Her breath caught.
She stared at it, reading the bold silver words.
Subclass: Hermes Walker (Mythic - Hidden)
She didn't blink. "That's… That's a legend. You're telling me that's real?"
"I didn't choose it," I said. "It chose me."
She was silent a moment, then whispered, "Well… maybe you really are the hunter that's going to change everything."
I held out my hand.
"Let's get you out of here."