It wasn't long before we reached a treasure chest embedded in the floor. I recognized its mana signature—it was part of the dungeon itself, not a cult addition. Disabling its mana circuit, I cracked it open. Inside were a few potions, weak ones at that. "Guess we'll resell these as part of the loot," I mused, tucking them away for later.
As we delved deeper, each encounter felt increasingly routine. The monsters, regardless of their ranks, all fell to the Death spell without a struggle, and even the more advanced ogres—known as Ogre Fighters—barely registered as a threat.
"Not much of a challenge, is it?" I muttered, stepping over the bodies of several felled monsters. "Feels like I'm just grinding experience points in some game."
"You'll need a story for the prince," Crawford reminded me. "Or rather, your alias will."
