I swung my broken weapon at the forest rats, silently cursing my luck. Each hit was weaker than the last, and these damn rats just wouldn't go down. One hit, two hits, three—why was everything so hard in this world? My knife, which was more of a glorified butter spreader at this point, just didn't have the cutting edge it needed. Literally.
"Come on, just die already!" I hissed through gritted teeth, but the rats didn't care about my frustration. They just charged at me, their mouths wide open, hoping to make me their sweet, sweet meal. A thief can't be tasty, right? Stay away from me, damn it.
My heart pounded in my chest as I realized I was running out of time. Every second wasted meant the bigger, chunkier rats from the lab were getting closer. And I wasn't in the mood to become their midnight snack.
I looked around frantically. 'Is there anything I could use?' My eyes landed on the massive corpse of the Chunky Rattus that I had taken down earlier.
It was a sight for sore eyes—well, sore everything, really. Without another thought, I dashed toward it, diving behind the giant rat carcass like it was my long-lost shield.
"Please let this work," I muttered as I activated my
The rats, confused by my sudden vanishing act, scattered, their tiny brains probably struggling to comprehend my brilliance. Finally, I had a moment to breathe. But I knew I couldn't stay here forever. My trusty
So, with as much grace as I could muster (which wasn't much, considering I was half-dead from exhaustion), I bolted from my hiding spot and made a mad dash for the staircase leading to the upper floor. I wasn't just running; I was fleeing like my life depended on it. Because, well, it did.
The dungeon corridors blurred as I sprinted, my feet barely touching the ground. My heart was still racing, but not just from fear. It was that adrenaline-pumping, life-flashing-before-your-eyes kind of fear that makes you think, 'Wow, I really should have stayed in bed today.'
After what felt like an eternity, I finally reached the staircase. I risked a glance over my shoulder and, to my immense relief, saw that the rats had given up the chase. The immediate danger had passed, and I allowed myself to slow down. Big mistake.
As soon as the adrenaline wore off, it was like my body decided to stage a full-on revolt. My legs turned to jelly, my head pounded like a drum, and my stomach churned like I'd eaten bad seafood. I barely managed to drag myself up the stairs before collapsing against the wall.
"Damn," I muttered, feeling every ounce of exhaustion settle over me like a heavy blanket. "I had quite the adventurous night, didn't I?"
Systie, the little furball who started all this, poked its head out of my shirt, its blue eyes drooping with fatigue. I couldn't help but chuckle. Who would've thought that following a cat in the middle of the night would lead to this?
"In one night," I began, thinking back about everything that happened, "I followed a cat and got roped into a dungeon exploration. I fought monsters almost equal to or higher in level than me. I descended to the second floor and fought a monster twice my level—barely made it out alive. Then, found a secret lab, had a chat with a mysterious red-haired guy, and ran for my life from a twelve-foot-tall mutant rat. All in a night's work, right? I want a six-pack body for all that effort. No gym work can be this exhausting."
Systie just blinked at me, too tired to respond with anything more than a half-hearted nod. It snuggled closer to me, seeking warmth and comfort in what was probably the worst bed in existence: a cold dungeon floor. Still, I couldn't help but smile as I gently patted its head.
"You did good, furball," I whispered, my voice softening. Despite everything, we'd made it this far and gained quite a few levels. Maybe this wasn't all bad.
Systie let out a little purr, and for a moment, the sheer absurdity of it all made me laugh. Here we were, a thief and a talking cat, leaning against a dungeon wall like we were sharing some grand adventure story. Which, I guess, we kind of were.
As the exhaustion finally caught up with me, I could feel my eyelids growing heavy. The dungeon might still be dangerous, but right now, I was too tired to care. I leaned back against the wall, letting my eyes close, and before I knew it, I was drifting off into a deep, dreamless sleep. Systie curled up against my chest, its soft purring the last thing I heard as the darkness took over.
It felt like I'd only just closed my eyes when a familiar sound echoed in my mind.
*ding*
*A higher-level mage is standing in front of the user*
*Skill
For a moment, I thought I was still in some twisted dream.
"Shut up and let me sleep," I screamed, my eyes half open, glaring at the ethereal prompt in my mind.
Whoever this mage was, they could wait. I just fought a dungeon full of rats and escaped. Sleep was non-negotiable.
I mustered just enough energy to turn over and drift back into a deeper slumber, dismissing the prompt like an annoying alarm clock.
************************
A few minutes earlier…
Just outside the dungeon entrance.
Arya, a red-haired, black-eyed mage appearing around 15 years old, stood before the large tree at the entrance of the dungeon.
This was it—the place where she would find information about him. 'Brother, I'm coming for you,' she thought, clenching her wand tightly as she descended into the dungeon alone.
As soon as she entered, the forest rats wasted no time in attacking. But Arya was prepared, and with a swift motion, she pointed her wand toward them while muttering
Flames erupted from the tip of her wand and swirled around the rats, reducing them to ash.
The smell of burnt fur filled the air, mixing with the damp, earthy scent of the dungeon. Arya wrinkled her nose but pressed on, her mind focused on only one thing: finding her brother's location and beating him to a pulp.
*ding*
*You killed 2 level 7 and 3 level 8 forest rats*
*You gained experience*
*You levelled up to level 16*
Arya ignored the prompts and moved deeper. Along the way, she noticed several dead rats, their bodies bearing the marks of a blade.
'Did someone else enter the dungeon? Could it be that brother is actually still inside?' The thought filled her with a mix of hope and anxiety, her mind conjuring the image of her 20-year-old red-haired brother.
She quickened her pace, her grip tightening on her wand. But when she reached the end of the first floor, instead of her brother, she found an almost twelve-year-old boy with black hair lying limp on the ground.
Her breath caught in her throat. 'Is he dead!?' She hurriedly checked his pulse and sighed in relief.
She leaned closer and gently poked his cheek, hoping to rouse him from what she assumed was unconsciousness.
To her surprise, the boy stirred, his eyelids fluttering open just enough to reveal his exhausted eyes.
But instead of the gratitude or confusion she expected, he looked her dead in the eyes and screamed, "Shut up and let me sleep," before rolling over and falling back to sleep.
Arya blinked in shock, her mouth hanging open. 'Awawa! What's his problem? I was just trying to help!' she thought, her mind racing.
'Why is he sleeping inside a dungeon? Could it be that he found this dungeon by chance and chose it as a nice place to commit suicide? Oh, you poor thing, what horrors did you face that motivated you to die and become rat food!? Don't worry, I will save you and take good care of you.'
With those ridiculous assumptions, Arya shed a few tears, lifted the young boy, carried him on her back, and walked into the deeper parts of the dungeon.
The sleeping duo of the boy and the cat had no idea that an airheaded red-haired girl was taking them towards the same floor that they desperately ran away from.