The entrance to Moonfang Thicket was nestled in the northern stretch of Potsdam's forest reserve, hidden beneath an arching canopy of twisted trees. Ethan stood before the heavy stone gate, a glowing blue seal pulsing slowly in the air. This wasn't like Rotwood Den — the air felt colder, more alert. As if the dungeon itself was watching him.
The guard at the gate, an older man with a dull silver badge, gave Ethan a once-over.
"D-rank, huh? First time here?"
Ethan nodded. "Yeah."
The man smirked. "Don't get cocky, even though you are a D-rank. Keep moving and don't let them circle you."
Ethan handed over his ID and paid the 1,300-dollar entry fee. It stung a little — he'd just earned over 7,000 from his last run — but this felt like an investment. If he survived.
The seal shimmered and parted, and Ethan stepped into the dungeon.
…
Moonfang Thicket was eerily quiet at first. The trees inside were denser than the outer forest, their leaves a deep violet under the dungeon's artificial sky. The ground was soft, mossy, and the air held a faint metallic tang.
200 monsters. Stronger than F-rank. More coordinated.
Ethan moved carefully, Fireball spell prepped in his mind. His eyes scanned every shadow.
The first attack came quicker than expected — a grey blur from the underbrush. He dodged left on instinct, then activated Surge Step. A rush of mana surged through his legs, and he was ten meters away before the wolf could blink.
It snarled and lunged again. Ethan launched a Fireball. It slammed into the wolf's chest and exploded, sending fur and flame into the air. The beast yelped and collapsed.
[Ferocious Moonfang - E Rank]
HP: 400 / 400
-510
"Not bad," Ethan muttered, panting. "That took more than I expected."
The wolf had tanked the Fireball far better than any Rotwood monster ever could. Luckily it still died in one hit.
Ten minutes later, he had already fought five more. The wolves attacked in pairs or trios. They were fast, nimble, and frighteningly coordinated. One would distract, while the others circled.
He relied on Surge Step to keep distance, then landed his Fireballs when they overcommitted. But the fights were draining — It was tiring to be on guard all the time, the pace of the fights wore him down.
By the time he reached the first clearing, sweat clung to his back.
Only twenty or thirty down so far? he thought. This place is going to grind me down.
He took a short break, leaning against a tree, breathing deeply.
Then they came again. Five this time.
"Shit," he whispered, readying his stance.
The alpha of the pack was darker than the others — almost shadow-like in the gloom. It howled, and the others charged.
Ethan activated Surge Step again and blurred to the side. His Fireball caught one wolf mid-pounce, blasting it off course.
[Ferocious Moonfang - E Rank]
-510
But the others didn't even flinch.
He ducked, rolled, and fired again.
[Ferocious Moonfang - E Rank]
-510
The second wolf went down.
The third snapped at his arm — he jerked away, barely escaping the bite. He retaliated with another Fireball at point-blank. Fur ignited. The wolf screamed.
[Ferocious Moonfang - E Rank]
-510
He was breathing hard now. Heart racing.
The fourth and fifth came together.
"Come on," he growled, hands lighting up with orange flame.
He used his last Surge Step burst to reposition, then unleashed a Fireball enhanced by a focused breath — aiming right between the two.
[Ferocious Moonfang - E Rank]
HP: 400 / 400
-510
The explosion rocked the clearing.
When the smoke cleared, only the alpha remained.
[Elite Ferocious Moonfang - E Rank]
HP: 1000 / 1000
It stared at him with golden eyes, crouched low.
Then it vanished into the shadows.
Ethan didn't chase.
He fell to one knee, catching his breath. His mana pool was recovering, but his stamina was wearing thin. Even with the regeneration, the sustained fighting — the sprints, the dodges, the bursts of spellcasting — all chipped away at him.
He let out a shaky laugh.
"This is... exhausting."
And he still had over a hundred monsters to go.
But something stirred in him. That challenge — the push — it was satisfying. There was no hand-holding here. No easy fights. This was a dungeon where he had to earn every step.
He forced himself to his feet.
Can't waste time. Get stronger, Ethan. Get used to hunting.
…
Hours passed.
The deeper into the thicket he went, the thicker the fog grew. The ambient light dimmed, the trees closer together. At times, Ethan swore he saw eyes watching him from the dark.
He fought in short bursts. Wolves came in waves, never more than six, but never alone. He started to adapt.
He learned to bait them — stepping just far enough forward to trigger a charge, then slipping aside and launching Fireball into their flank. He got better at conserving mana, letting his regeneration do its work while relying on movement and positioning more.
Surge Step became more than an escape — it was a weapon. The agility boost let him dodge better, strike quicker, reposition smarter. It was becoming muscle memory.
By the time the counter on his system page said 174 monsters defeated, he was bruised, scraped, but still standing.
Just a few more, he thought, dragging his foot forward.
Another ambush. Three wolves this time.
He grinned.
"Let's dance."
…
Eventually, the forest began to thin. The trees widened, the mist parted slightly.
He found a final grove — and beyond it, a clearing where the dungeon's energy pulsed heavier.
The boss room.
Ethan didn't step through yet. He was tired. His mana was nearly full, but his legs were sore, arms aching.
He sat down by a tree just before the grove, breathing hard.
One more fight.
But for now, he closed his eyes.
Rest. Then we finish this.