As he approached the dungeon entrance the next morning, Hector reviewed everything he knew.

  “My healing will be weaker in there, but I do not know if that applies to my Overheal strikes too. There will be traps, tight spaces and ambushes.”

  He exhaled slowly, steadying himself.

  “Oh, and a Warden Entity. Wonder what a boss level monster will be like.”

  Staring into the forest behind him, he considered several strategies. Retreat was still an option. Come back later, better prepared, maybe with more information. But the clock did not care about comfort. He had never dealt with traps before. For all he knew, the very first step inside could trigger something lethal. The dungeon description made it clear that recklessness would be punished.

  He double checked his supplies. All water bladders were full. Food was packed. Ignis Blooms were secured. He had twenty-nine days left to clear at least one dungeon, but there was no guarantee how long this one would take and if the rewards were good…

  “I will probably want to clear more than one,” he admitted.

  That thought led to somewhere darker. What had happened to Earth during all this. Had it been invaded by aliens and stripped of its resource? The Pantheon System had been generous with power but stingy with answers. There had been no reassurance that anything he cared about still existed.

  He shook his head, “One problem at a time Hector.”

  Excitement and anxiety fizzled together in his chest as he stepped toward the entrance. The dungeon mouth shimmered with a swirling gray veil, like storm clouds pressed flat into glass. It did not pulse or react to his presence. He placed his hand against it. The surface looked intangible, but it was solid beneath his palm, cool and resistant.

  [Would you like to enter the Scavenger Warrens?]

  “Yes.”

  Reality twisted as the world stretched and compressed like it was breathing. A sharp flash of light forced him to raise his arm as his vision blurred his senses lagging behind his body.

  When he opened his eyes, the forest was gone. The air was cold and damp, the exact opposite of the forest he was used to. Moisture clung to his skin as he inhaled, the scent of rot and stone replacing fresh greenery. He stood inside a cavern lit by glowing crystals embedded in the walls. Their pale blue light cast flickering shadows that reminded him of fireflies trapped in rock.

  The chamber was roughly the size of a basketball court. Large enough to move, but empty except for the jagged stone formations and a thick layer of green moss carpeting the floor. The silence felt wrong, like the dungeon was holding its breath. He only identified one exit that lay ahead. Seeing no immediate threats, he moved toward it carefully but with purpose, placing each foot deliberately.

  Click.

  His heart lurched.

  Swish.

  Pain exploded along his right side. He dove behind the nearest rock formation as heat and stickiness spread across his skin. His focus shattered as he finally looked down. Three darts protruded from his torso.

  “That should not have hurt that much,” he hissed. “Pain Suppression does not just fail.”

  Panic surged despite his efforts to clamp down on it. Quickly, he analyzed the darts.

  [Scavenger Toxin Darts]

  [Handcrafted projectiles coated with Sloth Serpent venom.]

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  [Effect: Induces Sleep status within ten minutes.]

  [Sleep Duration: One hour.]

  [Scavengers prefer prey unconscious and fresh.]

  [Time Remaining until Sleep: 9:43]

  “Fantastic.”

  He ripped the darts free and activated Emergency Heal. The energy flowed, but it felt wrong. Less responsive than usual, like his intent had to fight its way through resistance. The warmth spread unevenly, refusing to settle where he wanted it most. The timer kept ticking, as he dropped into a meditative pose, every instinct screaming that if anything was hiding nearby, he was dead.

  “If I can find where the poison is pooling,” he whispered, “I can target it.”

  Minutes crawled by, sweat ran down his face as he pulsed healing energy through his body, searching for resistance. Most of it flowed normally, sliding through muscle and bone with familiar ease, finally he felt it.

  “When the energy reaches my heart, it diverts…” he muttered.

  Something was blocking it. Not stopping it entirely but forcing it around a knot of resistance. He snapped out of meditation and struck his chest with a healing punch. Pain like shattered glass tore through him, but the timer continued. He struck again, stronger this time, but the timer kept ticking. Gritting his teeth, he loaded as much healing intent as he dared and slammed his chest repeatedly, like a madman trying to beat something loose from the inside.

  [Warning: Overheal Detected]

  Lesions burst across his skin as internal damage rippled outward, his body protesting the abuse, but the timer vanished.

  He sagged, gasping.

  “So, the dungeon was not lying. Healing is way weaker in here and harder to control as well. It was volatile before but now it is just out of control.”

  He returned to meditation immediately, circulating Emergency Heal carefully. Slowly, understanding formed as he began to get a better idea of how his skills worked in the dungeon. Outside, his healing was a steady stream. Here, it was a fire hose forced through a blocked pipe. Powerful, but if he couldn't learn to control it, he may just kill himself with his power if he wasn't careful.

  When the wounds finally sealed, he stood and scanned the floor. A thin rope laid snapped across the moss.

  “A tripwire.” He said.

  “Alright, I am guessing that won't be the last one of those I see.”

  He pocketed the darts and moved forward with renewed caution, eyes sweeping the ground and walls. Beyond the tunnel, he entered a narrow hallway lit faintly at the far end.

  “This has crushing death written all over it,” he muttered.

  The hallway opened into a wider chamber, he observed five sets of eyes locked onto him. He dropped into a defensive stance instantly.

  “Oh, that is vile.”

  The stench hit him next. Five short humanoids stood before him, roughly four feet tall. Their gray green skin was mottled with boils and pulsing pustules. Some were bald. Others had patchy hair like it had been burned away. Their bodies looked wrong, swollen in places and eaten away in others. Weapons glinted in their hands. Swords, axes and a funny look mace that was studded with horn fragments.

  [Analyze: Scavenger Goblin]

  Classification: Humanoid

  Tier: F

  Average Level: 14

  Description:

  Scavenger Goblins are opportunistic humanoid creatures that thrive in abandoned or corrupted environments.

  Physically weaker than apex predators, they compensate through numbers, aggression, and crude coordination.

  Prolonged exposure to corrupted zones causes unstable growths, lesions, and chemical scarring.

  “That is enough,” Hector said flatly.

  He rushed forward and punched the nearest goblin in the face. The sound of cracking bones echoed, but his healing energy bounced instead of detonating, dispersing unevenly. The goblin snarled and slashed at him. In response Hector blasted himself upward, propelling off the floor with a burst of energy. Causing the blade to miss by inches. Midair, he hurled two Wampus Claws at the vile creature, both struck their target, but he did not feel any experience flow into him. They were wounded, but not dead.

  “Then I push harder.”

  He rocketed forward and slammed a fist between a goblin’s eyes. This time, the head came apart as the room erupted with scavenger gore. Steel slashed across his back. He spun and countered, fists hammering. The goblin staggered, resisting until Hector drove a punch through its chest. Green and red painted the caves walls.

  “Only three left” he said with a smile.

  The scavengers seemed to cluster on instinct, taking advantage of the grouping, Hector leapt into them. One fell instantly, in his next step an axe and mace came down together, aimed at his neck. He managed to block the attack using his forearms, but he didn’t walk away damage free, as he heard the sound of his bones snapping. Emergency Heal surged and re-knit his arms mid motion, pain flaring and fading in the same breath. He spartan kicked the mace wielder so hard it flew across the room; a boot print embedded in its chest.

  “One left.”

  It died seconds later and the room fell silent.

  Notifications cascaded.

  [Hector has reached Level 19]

  [Hands of Triage is now Level 12]

  [Emergency Heal is now Level 26]

  [Combat Assessment is now Level 20]

  [Pain Suppression is now Level 18]

  Panting, Hector leaned against the wall, heart pounding. Loot was sparse the creatures mainly dropped crude weapons and filthy cloths; he left the rags.

  [Room 1 of 10 Complete]

  He grinned, adrenaline still humming beneath his skin.

  “Hell ya, that was awesome, and I am just getting warmed up!”