The notification appeared in Misaki's vision with a brilliance that seemed to echo the warmth suddenly blazing in his solar plexus. For a moment, the system interface dominated his entire field of view, each word sharp and clear.
[CHAKRA AWAKENING COMPLETE]
[Manipura Chakra: AWAKENED (100%)]
[Branch Unlocked: Fire Control]
[New Abilities Available:]
[- Flame Generation (Basic)]
[- Thermal Manipulation (Enhanced)]
[- Heat Sense (Passive)]
[Note: To advance this branch further, continue practical application and meditation]
[Current Mastery: Novice (0%)]
Misaki felt it the instant the awakening completed—a fundamental shift in how energy moved through his body. The warmth that had been stirring in his solar plexus for months suddenly crystallized into something solid and responsive. It was like the difference between holding a candle and being the candle itself. The fire was no longer something external he tried to manipulate; it was part of him, an extension of his will as natural as moving his own hand.
He couldn't contain his reaction. A laugh of pure joy burst from his lips, echoing through the safe zone's vast chamber. "I did it! I actually did it!"
Before he could process what was happening, Riyeak had scooped him up in a massive bear hug and was literally bouncing him in the air like a child with a favorite toy. The young giant's enthusiasm was infectious and overwhelming in equal measure.
"MISAKI AWAKENED! THE SKY-FALLER HAS FIRE!" Riyeak's voice boomed through the chamber loud enough to probably wake any sleeping creatures within a hundred meters. "This is amazing! Do you know how rare it is for someone to achieve full awakening in their first year? Most people take three or four years minimum!"
Deylos approached with his characteristic calm, though his smile was genuine. "Congratulations. Full Manipura awakening means you're no longer just support—you're a legitimate combat asset."
Even Vellin, usually so stern and focused, allowed herself a small smile. "Well done, sky-faller. Though next time, try to contain your excitement. We're still in a dungeon, even if we're in the safe zone."
Riyeak finally set Misaki down, and the team gathered around their campfire to celebrate properly. Deylos produced a small flask from his pack—something stronger than the weak ale they usually drank—and poured a measure for each of them.
"To Misaki," he said, raising his cup. "May your flames burn bright and your enemies burn brighter."
They drank, and the liquid fire that went down Misaki's throat seemed appropriate given the occasion.
"Show us," Riyeak demanded eagerly. "Make fire! I want to see it!"
Misaki picked up one of their unlit torches from the supply pile. He held it in his left hand and extended his right palm toward the pitch-wrapped end. For a moment, he simply focused inward, feeling the connection to his Manipura chakra that was now complete and stable.
Then he willed fire into existence.
The flame didn't explode into being—it emerged smoothly, naturally, flowing from his palm like liquid light. It touched the torch's pitch and immediately caught, the fire spreading across the treated material with eager hunger. But Misaki didn't stop there. He focused on the flame itself, commanding it to rise higher, to dance, to respond to his will.
The fire obeyed.
It rose from the torch in a twisting column, spiraling upward in patterns that defied the normal behavior of flames. Misaki made it split into multiple streams that wove around each other like serpents before coming back together. He compressed it into a tight sphere of intense heat, then let it expand into a gentle wash of warmth that spread through the air around them.
Finally, with a thought, he extinguished his control and let the fire return to burning normally on the torch.
The display had taken perhaps thirty seconds, but Misaki was breathing harder than he expected. His chakra reserves felt noticeably depleted—not dangerously so, but enough to remind him that awakening a chakra branch didn't mean unlimited power.
[Chakra Reserves: 82/100]
[Fire Control Mastery: Novice (3%)]
"That was beautiful," Riyeak said reverently. "Controlled, precise, responsive. You're a natural, Misaki."
"One of the benefits of being a chakra user," the young warrior continued, his tone becoming more educational, "is that your power can't explode on you the way mana spells can. Our abilities are extensions of ourselves—we control them directly through will and spiritual channels. There's no external energy to lose control of, no formulas to miscast."
Misaki frowned slightly, not quite understanding the distinction. "What do you mean by spells exploding?"
Deylos gestured for everyone to gather their gear. "We'll explain while we walk. Time to start the actual delving. We're going straight to Level Three—work from the bottom of our planned range upward toward the exit. That way, if we need to retreat quickly, we're always moving toward safety rather than deeper into danger."
They left the safe zone, crossing the boundary line into the dungeon proper. The change was immediate and palpable—the comfortable, neutral atmosphere of the safe zone gave way to something alive and hostile. The air felt charged with tension, and Misaki's newly awakened heat sense immediately detected the varying thermal signatures of the stone around them, showing him where ancient ventilation shafts carried warmer or cooler air.
As they descended through Level One's stone corridors, Deylos explained the fundamental danger of mana-based magic.
"Mages manipulate external energy," he began, his voice low and professional as he scanned their surroundings for threats. "They draw mana from the environment and shape it using formulas—mathematical and linguistic patterns that force the raw energy into specific effects. It's powerful because they're working with energy sources far larger than what a single human body can contain."
"But," Vellin added, taking point and leading them through a branching corridor, "external energy doesn't naturally want to be controlled. Mana is wild, chaotic. The formulas that mages use are like chains holding back a flood. If the formula is wrong, if the mage's concentration breaks, if the mana source is too powerful for them to handle—the spell can backfire catastrophically."
Riyeak made a gesture like an explosion with his hands. "I once saw a mage from the capital trying to cast a lightning spell during a beast attack near M'lod. His formula had one symbol wrong—just one—and the lightning didn't go toward the beast. It went through him. Cooked him from the inside out in seconds. His own spell killed him because he couldn't control the external energy he'd gathered."
The image made Misaki's stomach turn. "That's horrifying."
"That's mana magic," Deylos confirmed. "It's why mages spend years studying formulas and practicing in controlled environments before they attempt combat spells. One mistake can be fatal. But chakra?" He shook his head. "Chakra is internal. It's your own life energy. You might exhaust yourself, you might damage your spiritual channels if you push too hard, but your fire isn't going to suddenly reverse direction and incinerate you. The worst that can happen is you pass out from chakra depletion."
"So mages have more raw power but less reliability?" Misaki asked, his engineer's mind categorizing the information.
"Exactly," Vellin confirmed. "Which is why in dungeon environments, chakra users often have an advantage despite lower peak output. We're consistent, reliable, and we don't risk catastrophic backfire when we're tired or injured. A wounded mage is a liability—their compromised concentration makes every spell dangerous. A wounded chakra user just has reduced output."
They reached the threshold between Level One and Level Two—a massive stone archway carved with more of the angular Predecessor script. Beyond it, Misaki could hear the sound of running water echoing through flooded passages.
As they crossed into Level Two, a notification flashed in Misaki's vision—the kind that came from the dungeon's own system rather than his personal interface.
[Warning: Hostile Entity Detected]
A Vyrak wolf emerged from the shadows ahead, its form exactly matching the illustrations Misaki had studied in the village lexicon. It was roughly the size of a large dog but built with predatory efficiency—lean muscle, powerful jaws, eyes that reflected their torchlight with an unsettling intelligence. Its fur was mottled gray and black, perfect camouflage for stone corridors.
The beast's hackles rose, and a low growl resonated through the passage.
Misaki's body moved before his conscious mind caught up. Months of training with Deylos, the muscle memory built through endless repetitions, the precision-striker style he'd developed—all of it activated in a single fluid motion.
He drew his scout's blade and lunged forward, closing the distance before the wolf could fully commit to its attack. His strike wasn't powerful—he lacked the strength for devastating blows—but it was precise. The blade found the gap between the wolf's ribs on its left side, sliding through fur and flesh to pierce deep into the creature's torso.
The wolf yelped and twisted, its jaws snapping at Misaki's arm, but he'd already pulled back and rolled aside. The wound he'd inflicted wasn't immediately fatal, but it had done exactly what he'd intended—created an opening and disrupted the beast's attack pattern.
[Damage Dealt: 47]
[Vyrak Wolf HP: 203/250]
Forty-seven damage. Pathetic by most standards, but enough to matter.
The wolf turned to pursue Misaki, fury overriding its pain, which meant its back was briefly exposed to Deylos. The archer's bowstring sang, and an arrow sprouted from the base of the wolf's skull with surgical precision. The beast dropped instantly, dead before it hit the stone floor.
[Enemy Defeated: Vyrak Wolf]
[Experience Gained]
Deylos moved forward immediately, producing a skinning knife and setting to work on the corpse with practiced efficiency. His hands moved with the confidence of someone who'd done this hundreds of times, carefully separating the pelt from the body in a way that preserved its value.
"Good strike," he said without looking up from his work. "You created the opening I needed. In a dungeon, that's all a support combatant needs to do—provide opportunities for the heavy hitters."
"Why are we skinning it?" Misaki asked, watching the process with interest. "I thought we had a priority list of specific materials."
Vellin answered while keeping watch on the corridor ahead. "Vyrak pelts are on the list—we need twenty minimum. But beyond that, we skin everything we kill because you never know what might be valuable. Some beasts have magical properties in their hide or bones that aren't obvious until they're examined by an expert. Better to carry extra weight than leave potential gold behind."
They continued deeper, navigating through Level Two's flooded passages. The water ranged from ankle-deep to requiring actual swimming, and Misaki's leather armor became heavy and uncomfortable when soaked. But his newly awakened heat manipulation allowed him to warm the water around himself, making the experience merely unpleasant rather than dangerously cold.
By the time they reached Level Three, they'd killed four more Vyrak wolves and one small Earthbreaker elemental that Deylos had spotted trying to ambush them from a ceiling alcove. The pelts were secured in waterproof bags, and Misaki's confidence in his combat abilities had grown significantly.
Level Three was unlike anything Misaki had imagined.
The Fungal Gardens earned their name immediately. They emerged from a narrow passage into a cavern so vast that Misaki couldn't see the ceiling even with the illumination from the massive bioluminescent fungi that grew everywhere. The fungi ranged in size from small mushrooms to towering structures forty feet tall, their caps glowing in shades of blue, green, and purple that created an ethereal twilight atmosphere.
The effect was so convincing that for a moment, Misaki's brain insisted he was standing in a sunlit forest rather than deep underground. The blue-green glow mimicked natural daylight perfectly, and the towering fungal structures could have been trees if not for their distinctly alien shapes.
The air smelled earthy and slightly sweet, with an underlying sharpness that Vellin immediately identified as spore concentration.
"Wrap cloth around your nose and mouth," she ordered, producing treated fabric from her pack. "The spores aren't immediately toxic, but prolonged exposure causes hallucinations and respiratory damage. These filters will help."
They moved through the garden cautiously, following Vellin's lead as she navigated toward areas where the healing moss grew. The moss itself was distinctive—bright red against the blue-green fungi, growing in thick patches wherever water collected in natural depressions.
The harvest went quickly. The moss practically peeled off the rocks in satisfying sheets, and within an hour they'd filled multiple bags with well over the requested five kilograms.
Vellin checked items off her list with obvious satisfaction. "Rulwood staff fragments, collected. Crystalline bone shards, collected. Earthbreaker hide, one pelt so far—we'll need two more. Vyrak pelts, eight so far. Healing moss, collected with excess. Dungeon core fragments..." She paused. "None yet, but those are rare finds anyway. We've got the essentials."
She looked up at the team with something that might have been a smile. "Which means the best part. Everything from here on is finders keepers. Time to loot properly."
They spread out through the fungal garden, searching through the ruins and alcoves that dotted the cavern. Most finds were mundane—common dungeon materials like low-quality mana crystals, basic preserved weapons that had seen better days, or structural components from the Predecessor buildings that had collapsed over millennia.
But then Misaki's attention was drawn to a particular alcove partially hidden behind a cluster of bioluminescent fungi. Something about it felt different—a sense he couldn't quite articulate, like a subtle warmth or pull that his newly awakened chakra detected.
He pushed through the fungi carefully and found himself in a small chamber that had somehow remained intact when the surrounding structures collapsed. At its center, on a stone pedestal worn smooth by time, lay a ring.
The ring was simple at first glance—a band of dark metal with no obvious decorations or gemstones. But as Misaki picked it up, he realized the simplicity was deceptive. The metal was absolutely uniform in color and texture, showing no signs of the corrosion or wear that should have accumulated over thousands of years. It was neither warm nor cold to the touch, as if it existed at exactly the same temperature as his hand.
"I found something," he called out, and the team converged on his location.
Riyeak examined the ring with interest. "Looks like an artifact, but I don't recognize the design."
Vellin took it from Misaki's hands, holding it up to her torch and studying it from multiple angles. Her expression grew increasingly puzzled. "This is strange. Most magical artifacts from dungeons have visible enchantment patterns—either carved into the material or visible as magical circuits when you channel mana through them. But this..." She tried pushing a thread of her chakra into the ring, then shook her head. "Nothing. It's completely inert."
"Could it be decorative?" Deylos suggested. "The Predecessors made art as well as functional items."
"Maybe," Vellin said doubtfully. "But they didn't usually leave decorative items in sealed chambers. And this metal—I've never seen anything like it. It's too perfect, too uniform. Even the best smithwork shows some variation in the material."
Misaki took the ring back, studying it with his engineer's eye. The band was approximately two centimeters wide with a perfectly circular inner diameter. The outer surface was so smooth it reflected light like a mirror despite having no apparent polish. When he turned it, the weight distribution suggested it was solid metal rather than hollow, but it was impossibly light for its size.
"I'm keeping it," he decided. "Even if we don't know what it does, the metal alone might be valuable. If nothing else, a smith might be interested in studying it."
He slipped the ring onto his finger—it fit perfectly despite having no obvious mechanism for resizing—and immediately noticed something odd. The ring seemed to vanish from his awareness. He could see it on his finger, but he couldn't feel it. No weight, no pressure, no sensation at all. It was as if the ring existed in a space slightly separate from normal reality.
[Item Equipped: Unknown Ring]
[Properties: Unknown]
[Warning: Cannot be analyzed by system]
Misaki tucked that mystery away for later consideration and continued searching the chamber. And that's when he found the real treasure.
Behind the pedestal, partially buried under centuries of accumulated dust and fungal growth, was a chalice.
The moment Misaki brushed away the debris, he knew this was significant. The chalice was crafted from what looked like platinum or silver, but with a depth and richness to the metal that suggested something more exotic. The bowl itself was engraved with intricate geometric patterns that seemed to shift and move in the fungal garden's twilight glow. The base was set with small crystals that still held faint magical luminescence despite the passage of millennia.
He picked it up carefully, and a notification appeared that made his heart stop.
[Rare Find: Ceremonial Chalice of the Predecessors]
[Estimated Value: 18-22 gold coins]
[Historical Significance: High]
[Magical Properties: Minor enchantment for liquid purification]
Twenty gold. The chalice alone was worth twenty gold.
His debt was five gold. This single item could pay it four times over.
Misaki's hands shook as he held the chalice, the weight of what this meant crashing over him like a wave. Freedom. Survival. A future that wasn't defined by impossible debt and the threat of indentured servitude.
"Everyone," he called out, his voice barely steady. "I think I found something important."
The team gathered around him, and when they saw the chalice, the reaction was immediate and universal.
"Holy shit," Riyeak breathed, his usual exuberance replaced by genuine awe. "That's a Predecessor artifact. A real one, not just a piece of broken pottery or a rusted tool. That's worth..."
"At least twenty gold," Vellin finished, her eyes wide. "The royal merchants would fight over this. The historical societies in the capital would mortgage their buildings to acquire it. Misaki, you just found more wealth than most villagers see in their entire lives."
Deylos clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. "You're on a roll today. First the awakening, now this. Maybe the Jack class has better luck than people give it credit for."
As if summoned by his words, a notification appeared in Misaki's vision—one he'd never seen before.
[Jack Class Passive Ability Activated]
[Rare Find Bonus: 190% increased chance of discovering valuable items]
[Note: This passive has been active since class selection but only becomes visible after first rare find]
So that was it. The Jack class, for all its weaknesses and penalties, had a hidden advantage—dramatically increased chances of finding rare loot. It wasn't combat power or fast progression, but in a dungeon where a single find could change someone's life, it was arguably just as valuable.
The team's celebration was genuine and enthusiastic. Riyeak lifted Misaki up again—the giant really needed to stop doing that—and they passed around the flask for another round of drinks. Even Vellin allowed herself a rare moment of unguarded joy.
They were so focused on their celebration that none of them noticed the approaching footsteps until it was too late.
"So," a voice said from the chamber's entrance, old and powerful and dripping with entitlement, "you have found it."
The team whirled to face the speaker, hands moving to weapons, the celebration dying instantly.
Five figures stood at the entrance, backlit by the fungal garden's glow. They wore the crimson and black robes that marked them as mages from Vel'koda'mir's state-sponsored expedition corps. The speaker was an elderly man with a long white beard and eyes that glowed faintly with accumulated mana. Behind him stood four younger mages, their hands already positioned in the opening gestures of combat spells.
The old mage's gaze fixed on the chalice in Misaki's hands with the kind of hunger that spoke of obsession rather than mere greed.
"That artifact," he said, his voice carrying absolute certainty of his right to make demands, "belongs to the Kingdom of Vel'koda'mir. By ancient treaty and right of territorial claim, all Predecessor artifacts discovered in these contested borderlands fall under our jurisdiction. You will hand it over immediately."
He took a step forward, and the four mages behind him spread out into a combat formation with the practiced ease of a professional military unit.
"Or," the old mage continued, his glowing eyes narrowing dangerously, "we will take it from your corpses. The choice is yours. But make it quickly. My patience is not infinite."
The chamber fell into a tense silence broken only by the faint dripping of water and the barely audible hum of charging magical energy.
Misaki's hand tightened on the chalice—his salvation, his freedom, his way out of impossible debt.
And five mages stood between him and keeping it.
[Combat Encounter Imminent]
[Enemy Level Assessment: Dangerous]