Simon jumped.

  His glove’s grip tightened around the hilt as he aimed for the monster’s head. He pierced the sword as straight as possible, but even he himself felt it.

  “THUD!” The sword jolted to a stop, caught on something solid. ‘Too hard!’ he thought, eyes narrowing as shock flickered his eyebrows.

  “GRAARGH!!!!” the monster raged.

  ‘I misjudged?’ The thought was sincere—not out of empathy for the monster, but because of his skill at recognizing enemy weaknesses.

  He tried to pull it out, but the sword of his mentor was stuck on its head.

  “Urgh!” he tried it once more, but now he was sure that it was stuck. “I messed up!” he muttered as he jumped away from the head of the monster that turned, trying to dump him into the mud.

  “Simon, you dumb ass!” the voice of his mentor resonated in his mind. ‘That would be the exact word the old man would say to me before hitting my head,’ he rubbed his head out of habit.

  [Vael! Vael! My friend! Long time no see!]

  The boy, Simon, was sure that he was not hearing things. ‘It’s in my head?’

  [Vael! Don’t you remember your old pal? It’s Cryviii! The hard-working wolf! The four-legged fury! The good boy!]

  Simon was now more confused. He looked around, making sure that it was only him and the monster that was trying to regain back its feet, as it was swimming in the air with its back on the mud.

  ‘I must attack it now!’ he was about to attack when the wolf interrupted again.

  [Vael! I can’t control this monster anymore! Anyone who gets stabbed in the head while eating will totally not be happy! You have to kill it! Where the hell is your weapon?]

  ‘It’s stuck!’ Simon answered; it came naturally to him, the voice was reading his mind.

  [Not that weapon! Your weapon!]

  There was a brief silence of confusion, and because of this, Simon had to watch the monster come back to its feet, now ready for battle. It identified him and released bloodlust.

  “GOOOOAAAAAR!!” It's intimidation at its peak, but it didn’t bother Simon, who was lost in confusion.

  [You are not Vael!] the voice in his mind said. [But I’m bored, let’s talk when we meet!]

  Then out of nowhere, a fsh ignited just above Simon, it was of magic but out of this dimension, and the boy could tell that it was strange.

  [That’s the closest thing I could get out of your soul, use it, meet me after you kill it, there is a dungeon under the mud, it’s protecting it]

  A sword out of nowhere dropped just a few steps in front of the boy.

  It looked familiar, all of Simon’s hair rising. It was a nostalgic feeling of fear and resonance of purpose. ‘Why am I feeling like this?’ he thought, his eyes kept oscilting, but he didn’t have that much time to think about it at all.

  “GOARR!” the rge monster screeched, its voice a grinding hiss, like wet stones scraping hard to crumble. The creature’s body, broad and low, its scales were like broken gsses, padded together, streaked with slime and muck. Its tongue stiffened as it howled.

  Now that it was standing, the burrow where it was lying was exposed, and air escaped, a familiar scent for adventurers and Simon. The dungeon moss smelled like fresh veggies with a tinge of lime and flesh.

  ‘It’s really a dungeon!’ Simon saw it, the crack that was under the mud.

  Then the hilt of the fallen sword seemed to call out to him, and he answered with fluid grace.

  It fitted perfectly in his hand—leather-wrapped, firm, and familiar. A pair of fanged guards jutted out near the base, and just above them, a clean space invited a powerful cleave. The bde was broader than most, its end slightly curved while one edge remained straight and sharp.

  Words of the old man echoed in his mind: 'There is a right sword for you—but you’ll have to find it, or make one fit!'

  And now, holding this bde, he was certain—this was the one. His magic slipped into the sword as if it had always been waiting. For the first time in his life, Simon could use Bisa without the object colpsing.

  It fueled his instincts and lowered his gravity, one foot bending to unch himself.

  [Ah, that’s too natural, ha-ha] the voice in his head commented, like seeing a ghost that he wanted to meet.

  Although the monster was covered in shell-like armor of a gss-like look… it didn’t matter. Simon rushed in for an attack.

  “SLASH!”

  The bde of the sword slid like it was cutting butter with a hot knife, no resistance, even against the diamond-like skin of the reptile monster. A cut to its left side left a bloody line.

  “Huh?” ‘What magic is inside this sword?’ Even its wielder, Simon, was surprised.

  As soon as he nded with a “Thud!” He jumped for another attack upwards. He drew a straight line near the monster's neck.

  [Poor monster, and it has been feeding me, my friend, can you just kill it quickly out of mercy?]

  The voice in Simon's head sounded every bit guilty.

  'I will!' as Simon fell down, he aimed for the monster's neck. “Ssh!”

  There was not even a stain on the sword he was holding. ‘How can this be possible?’ Usually, flesh and fats would dull the bde of a sword, and since he couldn't properly channel magic through weapons, he was well familiar with the occurrence.

  The monster colpsed into the mud, lifeless. Its body began to melt slowly, releasing a pungent stench as the earth seemed to consume it. ‘Is the mud part of the dungeon?’ he wondered.

  [Correct, little one. Younger dungeons are always hungry! Now, what’s your name?]

  The voice was back.

  “Simon,” he answered as he grabbed his mentor's bde that was in the head of the monster. Surprisingly, it was now easy to pull out as the carcass melted into the mud.

  [Come to me, let me meet you face to face, enter the dungeon and reach its core.]

  “I don't want to, it's dangerous,” Simon answered. Now that he had retrieved his master's bde and had a sword that was really compatible with him, he didn't want to risk it.

  [You little cretin! Don't you want to know how to acquire that sword?]

  “It is already in my hands-” but then, when Simon tried to grip the sword given by the wolf, it disappeared.

  ‘Of course, he could take it back,’ Simon thought as he stared in the crack near the muddy area where the body of the monster had almost extinguished.

  [That's right, Simon, don't worry, this dungeon is just newly born, only five floors and a tunnel.]

  ‘Are you the boss of the dungeon?’ Simon asked. He was already on his way, entering the dungeon.

  [No, I'm something else. Technically speaking, I'm like you, but you are not like me. Come here, I want to see you face to face!]

  ‘Five floors, should I bring my backpack? How deep is it?’ Simon stopped just in front of the crack.

  [No need, I will guide you inside, you will only need a few hours to reach me.]

  ‘I see…’ then Simon jumped back to the tree to get the scabbard.

  [Come on!]

  The voice wasn’t convincing at all. The old man had warned him countless times about how dangerous dungeons were, but there was one thing in him that outweighed every danger: his own sense of adventure—and his skills.

  Or maybe it was just the lure of the sword.

  Simon turned and returned to the entrance of the dungeon.

  [Yahoo!] The voice rang in his mind, overflowing with joy.

  The crack was a bit narrow, so he had to squeeze himself in. He could feel through his boots the sticky earth that clung to his boots. ‘Mud would slow me down… this is a mud dungeon!’ A name in his mind that perfectly described the dungeon.

  His eyes changed color, from yellowish to greenish hue; to him, darkness was glimmering, and the walls of the dungeon were glowing.

  First Floor Muddy Dungeon.

  [And here I thought you wouldn't enter!]

  ‘Something tells me that I can trust you.’

  [...] Simon could hear the voice stutter.

  ‘Is it possible to stutter the mind?’

  [Ah... sorry, please enter now. Sniff!]

  ‘Is it crying?’

  [I'm not crying!]

  Simon breathed in the musky smell. He had not been in the dungeon for a long time, and as far as he could remember. ‘It was dangerous… and fun… but really dangerous. Having a feel for a dungeon won’t hurt!’ Then he looked around. Now that his eyes had adjusted, he could see details.

  As the dungeon was a natural one, the walls were covered with dungeon moss. It was these greeneries that were producing the musky scent. ‘It’s possible that there could be traps here. But not on this floor,’ he thought, confident of his ability to detect traps.

  Then, in the middle of the room, he saw the same sword pierced in the mud.

  ‘The sword?’ he saw it again, and a grin naturally tugged his lips.

  [Use it for a while, that flimsy sword will not work in here! You can’t even use it properly!]

  ‘Okay.’ His tooth fshed as Simon pced the old man's sword behind his waist, hanging it on his sash.

  He pulled out the sword from the ground. ‘What is its name?’

  [Do you name body parts now?]

  Simon shrugged his shoulders, not sure how to answer. ‘I don't know, but this is really a good sword.’ Now, he intentionally channeled magic into the sword. The bde resonated—he knew Bisa was already in effect, though he wasn’t sure what kind of magic was taking shape within it since there were no runes inscribed in the bde, and he was sure that it was not a monster part.

  [Oh, human magic! You learned some!]

  ‘This is called Bisa,’ Simon noted, remembering the old man’s lessons. ‘But I’m not sure exactly what effect the sword has, since I don’t know my root element.’

  Before he could continue his thoughts, the dungeon howled. A sharp pain seared through his head, and Simon grabbed it instinctively. He gnced at the sword—certain it wasn’t the source—and grunted, waving it off. His focus was on the dungeon, not the ache.

  ‘What is happening?’

  [Brace yourself, I just high-jacked the dungeon, it will fight with everything that it has.]

  As soon as the voice said it. Monsters began spawning.

  They were snail-like creatures with a pungent smell.

  ‘Test cutting!’ Simon then rushed, eager to enjoy.

  [I pity them.]