Leo's gratitude was so effusive you'd think I'd offered to slay a dragon for him, not fetch a couple of kegs. He handed me a heavy iron ring of keys and a hooded oil lantern, its wick already trimmed and ready.
"The big iron key opens the trapdoor, the small brass one is for the supply cage if you need it, but the red-banded kegs are just on the racks" he explained, already looking relieved. "Seriously Maddox, you're the best!!"
As I walked toward the bar Elara looked up from polishing a pewter mug, her eyes sharp and assessing. She watched me take the lantern.
"Going for a stroll?" she asked, her tone flat.
"Just helping Leo with the cellar run," I said, trying to sound nonchalant.
"Hmph. Don't get lost," she grunted, her gaze lingering on me for a moment. "The tunnels down there are older than Oakhaven. And if you break anything... it's coming out of your pay for the next year."
"I'll be careful," I promised. It wasn't a lie. I'd be very, very careful not to burn the whole tavern down from below.
The trapdoor was behind the bar, a heavy oak square set flush with the floorboards. It took all my Strength (a mighty 7) to heave it open, revealing a set of steep stone steps descending into a cool, inky blackness. The air that wafted up smelled of damp earth, spilled ale, and something else… a subterranean, musty scent like old bones and forgotten things. It was perfect.
I lit the lantern, its warm, yellow glow a small comfort against the oppressive dark. Holding it aloft, I descended the stairs, pulling the heavy trapdoor closed above me. The sound of the tavern, the chatter, the music, the clinking of glasses, was instantly snuffed out, replaced by a profound silence broken only by the soft hiss of the lantern and the drip, drip, drip of water somewhere in the darkness.
The cellar was larger than I expected. The lantern light pushed back a thick, velvety blackness, revealing stone walls slick with moisture and a floor of packed earth. To my left were massive wooden racks holding barrels and kegs of all sizes, the source of the tavern's lifeblood. But to my right, the cellar opened up into a wider cavern, which then branched off into two dark, yawning tunnels. Leo was right this place was definitely ancient.
I carried my precious cargo, aka, the kegs for Leo and placed them at the bottom of the stairs, ready for the trip back up. My duty was done. Now, my real work could begin.
I ventured into the larger cavern, away from the flammable alcohol. The space was wide and tall, the ceiling lost in the shadows above my head. It was cold, the kind of deep, unchanging cold that lives in the bones of the earth. This would be my dojo. My secret sanctuary.
I set the lantern down on a flat-topped rock, its light casting long, dancing shadows. I took a deep breath, the chill air filling my lungs, and centered myself. It was time to see what a [Firebolt] could really do.
I started small, using the techniques I'd honed over the past weeks. I pulled a thread of mana, shaped it, compressed it. I focused on a damp patch on the far wall, about forty feet away. I held the glowing marble of fire in my hand, feeling its contained heat. I took aim, and with a sharp mental push, I released it.
FWOOSH!
The firebolt shot across the cavern, a streak of brilliant orange against the gloom. It was faster than in my attic, and it seemed to glow brighter in the total darkness. It struck the far wall with a loud CRACK and a burst of steam as it instantly vaporized the moisture on the stone. A blackened, palm-sized scorch mark was left behind.
I stared, my mouth agape. That was impressive. That was real power.
A familiar chime echoed in my mind.
[ You have successfully cast a spell in a hazardous environment for the first time!]
[+25 XP]
The System was rewarding me just for picking a creepy place to practice. I grinned. I was going to like it down here.
I spent the next hour running drills. I practiced casting [Firebolt] rapidly, finding a rhythm. One, two, three shots in a row, each one a little faster, a little more accurate. The cost was high. Three quick shots drained nearly half my mana pool. I urgently needed to learn efficiency.
I switched to practicing my [ManaControl]. I created a floating ball of light using [Ignite], a sustained, controlled sphere of flame that hovered in the air, a miniature sun that pushed the darkness back even further. It was a huge drain on my mana, but it was incredible. I was painting with fire.
It was during a moment of rest, as I sat on a rock waiting for my mana to regenerate, that I heard it.
*Skitter. Skitter. Scrabble.*
The sound was faint, coming from one of the dark tunnels leading off the main cavern. It was a wet, chitinous sound. The sound of too many legs scrabbling on stone.
My blood ran cold. Leo wasn't just being a wimp. There was something down here.
I grabbed my lantern, my heart hammering against my ribs. Every horror movie I'd ever seen, every scary story I'd ever heard, screamed at me to run. Climb the stairs, slam the trapdoor, and never come back.
But the other part of me, the part that had been forged in the strange fire of the System, was curious. My main quest wasn't 'Become the Safest Dishwasher in Oakhaven'. It was 'Become the Strongest'. And the strongest didn't run from scary noises in the dark.
I activated [Observe] The skill had a passive component I'd discovered: It gave me a general sense of my surroundings. But for a specific target, I had to focus. I directed my attention toward the tunnel entrance, peering into the absolute blackness beyond the lantern's glow.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a text box shimmered into existence.
[Unknown Creature Detected. Level 2. Hostile.]
Level 2. The same level as me when I unlocked fire. It was hostile. And it was coming closer.
The skittering grew louder. A shape began to resolve itself at the edge of the light. It was bigger than a large dog, a low-slung body propelled by six multi-jointed, insectoid legs. Its body was covered in a gleaming, black carapace that looked like obsidian. Two long, twitching antennae tasted the air, and a pair of wicked, clicking mandibles dripped a foul-smelling ichor onto the stone floor. It had no eyes, only a smooth, featureless head.
My stomach churned with a mixture of terror and disgust. This was a monster. A real-life, honest-to-goodness monster.
The System updated as the creature came fully into the light.
[CellarCrawler] - Level 2
Status: Hunting
Description: A subterranean predator that navigates via sound and scent. Its thick carapace is highly resistant to physical damage.
Weakness: Its unarmored ventral plating is vulnerable. It is disoriented by sudden, bright flashes of light.
The creature swiveled its featureless head towards me. It had scented me. It let out a high-pitched chittering sound that echoed horribly in the cavern and charged.
Panic seized me. I scrambled backward, tripping over my own feet. My carefully constructed plans, my methodical training, all of it went out the window. All I could think was that this giant, disgusting bug was going to eat me.
I threw a [Firebolt] out of pure instinct. It was sloppy, uncontrolled. It went wide, splashing harmlessly against the cavern wall a good five feet to the creature's left.
The Crawler was fast. It closed the distance in seconds, its mandibles clicking hungrily.
'Think, Maddox, think!' my brain screamed. 'You're not prey! You're a player!'
The System's analysis flashed in my mind. *Disoriented by sudden, bright flashes of light.*
I didn't have a flashbang. But I had [Ignite]
As the Crawler lunged, I thrust my hand forward. I didn't try to control the flame. I didn't shapes it. I dumped a huge chunk of my remaining mana into it and thought of one thing: Borin's forge. An explosion.
*FWOOMP!*
A massive, roaring fireball erupted from my hand. It wasn't a projectile, it was exactly what I needed, a concussive blast of light and heat. The cavern was lit up as bright as day for a split second. The Cellar Crawler shrieked, a sound like tearing metal, and recoiled, stumbling sideways. Its antennae smoked, and it shook its head, completely disoriented.
That was my chance.
My panic subsided, replaced by a cold, sharp focus. I had maybe one or two firebolts left in me. I had to make them count. *Weakness: Unarmored ventral plating.*
The Crawler, in its confusion, had reared up slightly, exposing the soft, pale flesh of its underbelly.
I didn't rush. I took a half-second to aim. I channeled a small, precise amount of mana, compressing it into a tight, stable bolt. I remembered Petra's economical movements, Seraphina's arrogant precision. This wasn't a tantrum. This was a kill shot.
I released the [Firebolt].
It flew straight and true. It struck the Crawler square in its soft underbelly. There was no explosion, no flashy burst of light. There was just a sickening, wet *crunch* as the bolt of pure heat punched through the soft flesh and into the creature's innards.
The Cellar Crawler let out one last, gurgling shriek. It convulsed, its legs kicking spasmodically. Acrid, black smoke poured from the wound. It collapsed onto its side, twitched once, and then lay still.
The silence that followed was deafening. I stood there, my hand outstretched, my breath coming in ragged gasps. My whole body was trembling. I had just killed something.
*Ding!*
The chime of the System was loud in the quiet cavern.
[ Enemy Defeated: Cellar Crawler (Level 2)!]
[ You have earned 125 XP! (First Kill Bonus Applied!)]
[You have reached Level 4!]
[ You have gained 5 Attribute Points and 1 Skill Point.]
[Loot Gained: [Crawler Chitin Fragment] x2, [Crawler Mandible] ]
I stared at the notifications, then at the dead monster. The XP gain was massive, more than I'd earned in a week of washing dishes. I had loot. I had leveled up. The terror began to recede, replaced by a dizzying, exhilarating rush. I hadn't just survived. I had won.
But I had a new problem. A very large, very dead, very smelly bug problem. I couldn't just leave it here for Leo to find.
I looked at the corpse, then at my hands. I still had a little mana left. The solution was obvious. I needed to dispose of the evidence. And I had the perfect tool for the job.
It took another hour and three cycles of completely draining and partially regenerating my mana. I used a sustained, controlled [Ignite] flame, like a magical blowtorch, to systematically incinerate the creature's corpse. The smell was horrific, a thick, greasy stench of burning chitin and cooked monster meat that filled the cavern. But slowly, painstakingly, the body was reduced to a pile of black, brittle ash.
When I was done, I was utterly spent. My mana pool was bone dry, the familiar throb of Mana Depletion Sickness already starting behind my eyes. I was covered in sweat and grime and smelled like a barbecue from hell.
I kicked the ash, scattering it across the cavern floor until it was just another dark patch in the dirt. Then, remembering my original purpose, I hoisted the two kegs of Griffin's Gold onto my shoulders. They felt surprisingly light. My new level must have come with a base stat increase.
I climbed the stairs, my legs shaking with exhaustion and adrenaline. When I emerged back into the tavern, the noise and warmth were a shock to the system. Leo rushed over, his face full of relief
"There you are! I was starting to get worried. Did you have any trouble?"
"Nope", I said, my voice hoarse. I set the kegs down with a thud "Easy as pie. Just a little dark."
Leo beamed, patting a keg affectionately. "You're a champion, Maddox. A true champion."
As Leo rolled the kegs behind the bar, I caught Elara's eye. She was watching me, her expression unreadable. Her nose twitched slightly.
"You were down there a long time for two kegs," she stated, her voice low.
"It's a big cellar. Didn't want to get lost," I said, my heart starting to beat a little faster.
She took a step closer, her gaze sharp. "You smell of ozone," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "Like after a lightning strike."
I met her gaze, my mind racing. I couldn't tell her the truth. But I couldn't lie to this woman; she'd see right through it.
So I said nothing. I just held her gaze, letting the silence hang in the air.
A flicker of something like surprise? or maybe respect? Passed through her eyes. She gave a slow, almost imperceptible nod. "See that you get cleaned up," she said, turning back to her mugs. "You smell up my bar, and it's coming out of your pay."
I practically fled to my attic room. I collapsed onto my mattress, my mind replaying the fight, the kill, the aftermath. I was terrified, exhausted, and more alive than I had ever felt.
I pulled up my status screen, the blue light a comforting glow. I had points to spend. A new reality to embrace. The cellar wasn't just a training ground anymore. It was my first dungeon. And I had a feeling it wouldn't be my last.