The first alone illegal dungeon Eira entered, was not famous, not deep, and not guarded, which somehow made it more dangerous than any of the ones people talked about. There were no patrols, no maps sold in shops, no warnings from guilds.
And how did a young boy like Eira get to know this place? He tracked every single lead, big or small, to find a cure for Neo. Ona night where his seniors partied, Eira wandered off to the local streets, wondering what the city held. The shady people, perverts, prostitutes, and gamblers each had their own side of the road. Then he came across a doctor, debating whether to put himself in danger or not. The doctor approached him.
"What's a guy like you doing here?" The doctor asks in a dull room.
"I'm trying to find a cure," Eira enters the open shop and looks around the medicines and the equipment.
"Unless it's a cure for eternal sleep, I can help you with anything," Doctor too the seat, and Eira stopped walking.
"You know there is no cure, the doctor said.
"I know, if there is any lead I could follow, it would be great, you are a doctor. You should know how important life is." Eira's eyes filled with tears, his positivity fading.
"Look kid, it's a rare thing to happen, in fact, I have never seen a person who has fallen to eternal slumber." Doctor replies, Eira nods,
"I understand," Eira walks away, and the doctor speaks,
"It's just a rumor, there's a dungeon in this city up the north forest. No one's been able to close it; beasts grow back, and we don't know how. People I said this to didn't come back with anything in their hands and started throwing tantrums at people, so they kept their mouths shut," Doctor spoke.
"That's because they don't take my advice," a women his her thirties walked up from the store next door.
"Really, that crap? The doctor spoke, laughing,
"Boy, you seem off, not in a bad way," She looks at Eira keenly and smiles
"You must have a lot of magic," she said.
"I don't, I couldn't even get into the academy because my magic was too low, But I have been learning to get better," Eira speaks, taking a step back, thinking it's a hoax, saying he has a lot of magic.
"Then her advice is going to be something you can't follow," the doctor smiled at the lady.
"Every dungeon has a core. S-rank ones have a stronger core, different types of dungeons, or monsters. And there are also another type of dungeon, very few in fact, that cannot be overcome by intelligence or strength. And that dungeon is one of them, I feel it's healing and pure." The lady spoke, asking me to follow her desk.
"Hey, don't take my client," the doctor yelled. Butt Eira followed her, curious about the dungeon.
" Rule number one: Enter the dungeon alone. Rule number two: fight monsters on your own. Rule number three: Do not ever drink by yourself; you have to give to someone else." She paused,
"Is that all? If I train better, I might have a chance," Eira spoke.
"Yes, but it's different with you. I can tell," She gets closer,
"What's different?" He asks,
"I see the dungeon closing, whether it's your doing or someone else it's closing soon, like today." She looked at the crystal ball and spoke again,
Not sure of the reason, all I can see is the moon and the magical liquid. This might be your last chance at getting the potion. Once cleared, it doesn't appear until the next person bitten. Only the purest soul can claim it, trust yourself, and do it. Go, goddess, has your side." The woman's voice got stronger, and she yelled at him.
Eira couldn't grasp what he had heard, and he ran towards the north. Searching for the dungeon, leaving the people who trusted him behind.
Just a narrow crack in the earth at the edge of the northern forest, half-hidden by roots and moss, with a single sentence carved into a nearby tree that read: Do not enter.
He stood there for a long moment, staring at the words, thinking of Neo lying still in her bed, thinking of his parents pretending not to worry, thinking of how every official path had closed itself to him. Then he stepped inside.
The air changed immediately. It grew colder, heavier, carrying the smell of damp stone and old earth. The faint glow of natural mana crystals embedded in the walls barely lit the path, just enough to keep him from walking blind.
He moved slowly, carefully, every step measured. He checked the floor before placing his weight, the ceiling before moving forward, and the corners before turning. He remembered Kara's voice in his head, telling him that the dungeon was not a place that attacked you loudly, but quietly, when you stopped paying attention. After a while, the forest sounds outside vanished completely, replaced by a deep, unsettling silence that felt too intentional to be natural.
The first creature dropped from the ceiling without a sound. It looked like a spider made of bone, its thin limbs bending in too many places, its shell white and cracked like old porcelain. Eira barely had time to roll aside before it struck where his head had been.
The sword formed in his hand without him calling for it, cold and familiar, and he swung by instinct rather than thought. The creature shattered into fragments that skittered across the stone floor and went still. Eira stood frozen for a moment, chest heaving, heart pounding, listening for more movement. When nothing came, he slowly lowered the blade and let it fade, reminding himself to breathe.
He went deeper after that, not rushing, not hesitating either. Some creatures he avoided entirely, slipping through narrow paths and shadowed cracks. Others he fought quickly and cleanly, always careful not to draw too much attention. He collected what he could, small mana stones from broken creatures, herbs that glowed faintly, fragments of crystal from cracked dungeon walls. He marked his path with chalk so he would not lose his way.
After several hours, he found a stone basin filled with a softly glowing blue liquid, humming faintly with concentrated healing mana. Runes circled its base, worn but still intact. His hands trembled slightly as he filled a small vial, careful not to spill a drop.
When he finally emerged from the dungeon, the sky was already dark. His legs shook with exhaustion, his clothes were torn and dirty, and a thin line of blood ran down his arm from a shallow cut he hadn't even noticed until then. But he was alive, and more than that, he was carrying something that might matter. He didn't sleep much that night. He kept touching the vial to make sure it was still there.
The village healer studied the liquid the next morning with quiet seriousness. She turned the vial in the light, sniffed it, then looked up at him with cloudy but sharp eyes. She told him that it was a powerful healing essence, but not meant for long-term conditions, and certainly not tested on anything like Eternal Slumber. He asked anyway. She hesitated for a long time before finally nodding. They diluted it carefully, used a single drop, and placed it on Neo's lips. For a moment, nothing happened.
Eira felt his chest tighten. Then Neo's fingers twitched, just barely, like a leaf moved by a faint breeze. Eira froze, afraid to even breathe. The healer watched closely and then shook her head slowly, not in denial, but in caution. It was not enough, she said, but it was something.
So he went back.
He went back again and again, deeper each time, further from the safe edges and into places the maps didn't bother marking. The dungeons grew older, darker, heavier with mana that pressed on his skin like humidity before a storm. The monsters changed too, no longer wild and random, but shaped, organized, sometimes moving in patterns that felt deliberate.
He learned quickly, or he would have died. He learned which stones shifted when stepped on, which crystals drained mana, and which shadows hid living things. His fear dulled into alertness, then into calm. His body hardened. His movements became quieter, more precise.
The third dungeon nearly killed him. A creature with jagged limbs and a mouth too wide for its face tore into his leg before he could fully react, and he barely escaped, dragging himself through a narrow passage while blood soaked into the stone behind him. He collapsed outside the entrance afterward, shaking, laughing weakly in disbelief that he was still breathing.
The sword faded from his hand, leaving it empty and trembling. He cried then, not from pain, but from the sudden release of tension, from the thinness of the line he was walking and the stubbornness that kept him walking it anyway.
The herbs he brought back after that were darker, pulsing faintly with deep mana. The healer frowned when she saw them, called them dangerous, unstable, not meant for people. But she used them anyway, in careful doses. Neo's breathing deepened. Her skin grew warmer. Her pulse steadied. She still did not wake, but she felt less distant, less like she was already gone.
Rumors spread. About a boy who entered forbidden places. About someone bringing back things that shouldn't exist near a village like this. Some people admired him quietly. Some feared him. Some resented him. And somewhere far away, someone powerful began to take notice.
Eira stood outside Neo's room one night, watching her chest rise and fall in the dim light of a single candle. He whispered to her that he was not stopping, that he was coming back every time, that she just had to wait a little longer.
And deep beneath the earth, in places where no light reached, something ancient stirred, not hostile yet, not friendly either, but aware that someone had begun walking paths that were meant to stay forgotten.