First Day, First Lesson

The moment they stepped through the shimmering blue gate, the world around them shifted, and the bustling noises of the outside vanished into eerie silence.

The dungeon's interior was massive, a colossal cavern stretching as far as the eye could see, its walls adorned with countless mana crystals that bathed the space in an ethereal glow. The crystals pulsed faintly, their green and blue hues intertwining like veins of power coursing through the stone. Some even radiated a faint purple shimmer, indicating a deeper concentration of essence—the kind that, if left unchecked, could birth even deadlier disasters.

The cavern's rock formations twisted unnaturally, almost as if the dungeon itself was alive, constantly reshaping and expanding. This was no ordinary cave; it was a subspace, a realm where essence condensed at an unnatural rate, forging resources and creatures alike.

Denwen's eyes flickered to the clusters of mana crystals embedded in the walls, gleaming like frozen lightning. These were the true treasures of the dungeon, formed when world essence condensed over centuries. The older the crystal, the purer its power, making them highly sought after by mages, warriors, and artisans alike. But as valuable as they were, they also posed a significant threat—disasters could feed on them, accelerating their growth and mutation. The stronger the crystals, the deadlier the creatures that lurked nearby.

Garric exhaled sharply, his eyes scanning the surroundings. "Damn, this place is a goldmine," he muttered, a greedy glint flashing in his gaze. "If we hit the right spots, we'll be set for weeks."

Denwen had barely absorbed the sight before Garric spoke again. "Renji, scout the perimeter. Make sure no ugly bastards are creeping up on us."

Renji smirked. "On it."

A faint blue glow flickered around him as he channeled his essence, and then—whoosh—he was gone, vanishing in a burst of speed, leaving behind only a gust of wind.

Denwen watched in silent amazement. These people weren't just casual hunters—they were professionals.

The rest of the team began moving swiftly into position.

Elara raised her hands, her golden essence swirling as she formed a protective barrier around their immediate vicinity. The translucent dome shimmered faintly before vanishing, leaving behind a subtle distortion in the air—a passive defense against sudden ambushes.

Kaelin strode forward, unstrapping a metallic case from his back. He clicked it open, revealing miniature mechanical constructs no larger than a child's toy. He pulled out twenty of them, channeling his essence into the devices. Their glass-like eyes flickered blue, and then—snap!—they expanded, unfolding into six-foot-tall autonomous mining bots with multi-jointed limbs and reinforced drills.

Denwen's eyes widened. "Whoa… so these are the autonomous mining bots?"

Kaelin chuckled, gripping his sword. "Hah! Smart kid." He sheathed the blade against his waist, patting Denwen's shoulder. "These little guys do the hard work. We just protect them."

The moment the mining bots activated, their drills roared to life, the screeching sound bouncing off the cavern walls as they dug into the crystal-rich stone.

Suddenly—whoosh!

A sudden gust of wind signaled Renji's return. He appeared in a blur, landing with a sharp breath.

"We've got a problem." His daggers gleamed as he reached into a pouch, pulling out a small vial of thick oil. He coated his blades with practiced ease.

"A horde's coming," he said, voice tight. "And it's led by a Rank 2 Ironhide Boar."

The atmosphere shifted instantly.

Elara muttered an incantation, weaving empowerment spells into the team. Korrin let out a low, savage laugh, cracking his knuckles, the metallic braces strapped to his fists gleaming ominously.

"Hah! Finally, some action!"

Garric sighed, unstrapping his massive shield from his back. As he pulled it forward, the heavy steel expanded, growing into a towering slab of reinforced essence metal. It was so massive that Denwen briefly wondered how the man even moved with it.

The moment Denwen tried to ready himself, reaching for the gauntlet he had purchased on credit, Kaelin's gaze flicked toward him.

"What do you think you're doing?" His voice wasn't harsh, but it held a quiet authority.

Denwen frowned. "A battle is coming. Shouldn't I help?"

Kaelin sighed, shaking his head. "No, kid. You're our porter. We can't have you getting hurt over some pointless heroics. Just stay put and watch over the bots." He turned away, drawing his sword, its azure glow reflecting in his sharp eyes.

He smirked. "Time to turn these pigs into pork."

Denwen gritted his teeth. He knew he was weaker than them, but being cast aside so easily still stung.

A deep, rumbling growl echoed through the cavern, shaking the very ground beneath their feet.

Then, the boars emerged.

The Ironhide Chief led the charge, a monstrous creature standing nearly eight feet tall at the shoulder, its hide like blackened steel, rippling with muscle and reinforced essence plating. Its crimson eyes locked onto the intruders with pure aggression, tusks glistening like curved daggers, already stained from countless battles.

Behind it, a horde of lesser Ironhide Boars followed, each the size of a small carriage, their hooves thundering against the rocky floor.

Garric stepped forward, planting his colossal shield into the ground.

"Come on, ugly." His voice was steady, confident. The chief snorted, pawing the ground before charging.

BOOM!

The impact shook the cave as Garric held firm, essence flaring around his shield, absorbing the brunt of the force.

Roran, positioned at a distance, nocked an arrow, his fingers steady as he whispered an incantation. The arrow glowed before whistling through the air, finding its mark in the eye of a lesser boar.

Renji was a blur, weaving between beasts, daggers flashing, cutting through exposed tendons and weak points. The boars squealed in agony, collapsing as the poison spread through their systems.

Kaelin and Korrin took on the Ironhide Chief.

Korrin dashed forward, fists coated in essence, delivering a thunderous uppercut to the beast's jaw. Double Impact. The skill triggered a second strike, reverberating through the boar's skull. The creature stumbled, but it didn't go down.

It retaliated instantly, its massive maw snapping shut, aiming to tear Korrin in half.

Before it could, Kaelin lunged in from the side, his sword flashing with blue fire, cutting across its flank. The blade bit deep, drawing dark, burning essence blood.

But the boar didn't fall.

Disasters were always stronger than humans of the same level, and even three Rank 2 warriors fighting with everything they had couldn't bring it down easily.

Denwen clenched his fists, his mind racing.

—-

Time blurred as the battle finally came to an end, the once chaotic cavern now drenched in blood and exhaustion. The massive corpse of the Ironhide Chief lay sprawled on the rocky ground, its once-impenetrable hide now riddled with wounds, dark essence-blood pooling beneath its lifeless frame.

Garric slumped against the beast's corpse, breathing heavily, his shield resting beside him. His armor was battered, smeared with blood—some his, some not.

"That... really took everything we had," he muttered, running a hand through his sweat-drenched hair. His eyes were still clouded with the memory of the last moments—the Chief's rampage, a desperate, final stand that nearly cost them everything.

Elara had long since run dry, her mana reserves completely depleted. Roran's quiver was empty, forcing him to switch to a short dagger, barely enough to pierce the Chief's thick hide. Renji, despite his agility, had taken a nasty hit, leaving him in a critical state, his breath ragged as he clutched his wounded side.

It had taken every ounce of strength they had to bring the beast down.

Garric exhaled, glancing at the glowing timer etched into their guild bracelets—less than thirty minutes left before their time in the dungeon ran out.

"We should head back," he said, pushing himself to his feet.

No one argued. They weren't fit to continue. Even if they wanted to push deeper, they'd be walking into another disaster waiting to happen. Stronger groups could clear a dungeon in a single raid, but most hunters took it in stages, selling their gains and returning stronger.

That's exactly what they'd do.

—-

The Fang Guild's hall was bustling with activity when they returned. Other hunters lounged around, boasting about their conquests, some drinking, others engaged in business transactions.

They moved toward the submission counter, where their haul was recorded. The mana crystals they mined were handed over in exchange for guild credit and currency, while the Ironhide cores belonged to the team unless they chose to trade them in.

Denwen watched the entire process with quiet anticipation. His fingers clenched as the final earnings were tallied, his eyes narrowing as he examined his share.

50 silvers.

His chest tightened.

"Garric," he called, his voice sharp.

Garric turned with a lazy smile. "Yeah?"

Denwen held up the pouch of coins. "What the hell is this?"

Garric blinked. "Your cut."

Denwen's expression darkened. "Fifty silvers? That's barely the worth of three Rank 1 cores—and we pulled several out of that dungeon!" His voice rose, frustration spilling over.

Garric sighed, as if he'd been expecting this. "Ah, kid, that's just how it works. Porters get a set wage. You carry the gear, watch the bots, and make sure nothing happens to our loot. You don't fight, so you don't get a fighter's cut. That's how it's always been."

Denwen's jaw clenched. "You never explained that beforehand."

A smirk tugged at Garric's lips, his tone laced with amusement. "Come on, Ren. You saw the battle, didn't you? You think you could've done anything out there?" He shook his head. "You're lucky you even got paid at all."

Denwen's fists trembled.

Garric must have noticed because he chuckled and, in a mock show of generosity, pulled out two additional Rank 1 cores from his own stash.

"Here. Take these," he said, tossing them toward Denwen like they were scraps. "That should shut you up."

Denwen caught them without thinking, but the gesture—the dismissive arrogance in Garric's voice—made his blood boil.

He clenched the cores in his fist.

Then, without hesitation—

"Fuck you."

The words left his mouth like venom as he turned and walked away, shoving past the gathered hunters without looking back.