CHAPTER 55: SLIVER MIST VALLEY

Chapter 55

The mist before me was not natural.

It rolled and shifted like a living thing, each tendril curling against the wind as if obeying some unseen will. Under the fading light of evening, the valley’s mouth was nothing but a pale shroud—an endless curtain of silver that swallowed the world beyond. I could barely see the jagged silhouettes of rocks jutting from the ground, their edges slick with dew. Somewhere inside that haze, the dungeon pulsed. Waiting.

They called it the Silver Mist Valley, but that was a name for those who didn’t know better. In the original story, Daelen had cleared it years after graduation—when both he and Marcus stood at the peak of Rank 5. Even then, the fight had nearly killed them the moment you crossed that fog, the dungeon’s rules stripped you bare.

External mana? Useless.

Realm? Forcefully shackled to Rank 2.

A hunter’s nightmare.

That was why Dravis and Xavier were here. Rank Two was their natural state—they would suffer no loss, while the rest of us... well, we’d be walking in with our fangs pulled. Even Renji, if he had any hidden strength, would be leveled down. And if he turned into a threat inside, subduing him would be child’s play.

The body suit clung to me like a second skin, every seam reinforced for dungeon conditions. Beneath the black plating, enchanted fibers regulated my temperature, kept my breathing steady. I adjusted the collar, feeling the faint hum of its mana dampeners. Behind me, Xavier, Dravis, and Renji stood in matching suits, weapons already drawn, their faces partly hidden behind the tinted visors.

The east gate loomed ahead—a steel arch covered in talismans that flickered faintly under the fog’s touch. The two stationed guards didn’t speak. One stepped forward, scanning my clearance with a handheld device.

A sharp beep.

"You’re clear," he said, his voice muffled through the respirator mask.

I glanced back at my team. "Stay ready."

They didn’t answer, but their grips tightened on their weapons.

The moment I stepped past the gate, the world changed. The fog didn’t just close in—it pressed against my skin like cold hands, prying at every inch of me. My breath came out in thin wisps, vanishing almost instantly into the mist. Shadows shifted at the edge of my vision, shapes that couldn’t be real.

And then—

A faint crack of violet light bled into my sight. I felt it in my eyes before I saw it—the mana inside me, struggling against the dungeon’s suppression, straining to adapt. Threads of energy twisted through my vision, marking faint outlines in the mist... and something else. Something deeper.

The dungeon was watching.

I stepped forward.

————————

Meanwhile, somewhere else in the dungeon...

The forest stretched ahead in deep shades of green and gold, shafts of sunlight slipping through the high canopy to paint dappled patterns across the mossy ground. The air was thick with the scent of pine, damp soil, and the faint musk of predators. Roots twisted like coiled snakes across the trail, and every so often, the wind carried the distant cry of some unseen beast.

"Daelen," Marcus’s voice was steady, his gaze sweeping the treeline. "Front guard. Evlyne, behind me. Lyria, you stay on Daelen’s rear."

Daelen rolled his shoulders, adjusting his grip on the sword. Marcus’s orders were routine—but his own focus was far from the path ahead.

"This dungeon’s only Rank 2," Marcus added, stepping forward. "We clear it fast, then head for another before nightfall."

The forest answered with the sharp snap of a twig. From the left, a blur of grey fur lunged from the undergrowth—three dire wolves, fangs bared.

Daelen moved before the others could turn. His sword flashed three times, each strike clean and final. By the time the wolves hit the ground, their blood was already soaking into the moss.

The others didn’t comment. They were used to this.

But Daelen’s mind wasn’t on the wolves.

Since morning, the system’s voice had echoed in his head with the same cold warning:

Stay vigilant during the mission.

It had refused to give details. And when he asked, Is this about Ezra?, the answer was a flat No.

That was the problem.

He knew the dungeon’s rules—only four could enter at a time. Inside, no one else could slip past unnoticed. Which meant if someone wanted him dead, it wouldn’t happen here. The strike would have to come from outside... at the gate... or the moment they stepped out.

That was why, before entering, he’d sent word to his family: post elite guards at the dungeon entrance.

If they think I’m walking blind into this, Daelen thought, stepping over the cooling corpses, then they’re the ones who won’t be walking out.

———————-

Ezra’s POV

The moment we stepped past the gate, the silver fog swallowed us whole.

It wasn’t just the sight—my senses felt muffled, as if the world had been wrapped in cotton. I could still feel the faint pulse of mana in my core, but it was... sluggish, like trying to run through water.

Dravis spoke first, his voice echoing oddly in the mist. "Hey... I feel like my mana—"

"Yes," I cut in gently, "your mana is obstructed. You can still channel it internally, so be prepared at all times. And... I should mention—my rank has dropped to Rank 2, just like yours."

Xavier’s head snapped toward me. "What? Seriously?"

Dravis flexed his fingers inside his steel gauntlets. "Yeah... even my peak Rank 2 strength feels like it’s been cut to beginner level."

I nodded once. "Likely the dungeon’s mechanism. Keeps stronger hunters from overwhelming it too easily." My tone was calm, matter-of-fact. The last thing they needed was panic.

The fog thinned as we moved forward, revealing uneven ground covered in pale moss and jagged stones. A faint rustle came from ahead.

"Eyes forward," I said politely.

A pair of shadow wolves padded out from behind a boulder, their fur almost blending with the gloom. Their eyes glowed faintly yellow—Rank 1.

Xavier moved first, his sword a clean silver arc. One wolf collapsed instantly, the second falling to Dravis’s crushing gauntleted strike.

We didn’t stop moving.

The next encounter was larger—five wolves emerging in a loose formation.

"Xavier, left," I called softly. "Dravis, right. Renji, rear guard."

They followed without hesitation. Xavier cut his way through his flank with sharp, efficient strikes. Dravis broke one wolf’s jaw with a hook, then drove the other into the ground with a shoulder slam.

Renji handled the rear well—against Rank 1s. His blade work was precise, his timing clean. But when the next wave came—two wolves, their bodies leaner, faster, their eyes burning red—he stepped forward as if to meet one... and then hesitated. His sword dipped just slightly.

Dravis stepped in instantly, blocking the lunge with his forearm guard and countering with a brutal backhand.

I turned to Renji briefly. "You did well holding the smaller ones," I said evenly, not raising my voice. "Keep your distance against Rank 2s until you’re certain you can finish them."

Renji gave a curt nod and shifted back into position.

The fight ended quickly, and the forest inside the valley seemed to settle again. But something about it felt... wrong.

We moved on.

The terrain began to change—trees grew sparse, replaced by jagged stone pillars jutting from the ground like broken teeth. The fog here was thinner, but shadows pooled unnaturally in the cracks between rocks.

That’s when we heard it.

A faint sound—like glass chimes in the wind. But there was no wind.

"Hold," I said, lifting my hand.

From the shadows ahead, shapes began to appear. Not wolves, not beasts of flesh—these were translucent, their outlines rippling like heat haze. They had no faces, no scent, and yet I could feel them watching.

Xavier whispered, "What... the hell?"

Dravis shifted his stance, gauntlets raised. "Never seen anything like that."

Renji took half a step back.

The shapes moved slowly, drifting closer, but they made no sound except for that faint chiming. The air around us grew heavier, colder—not with temperature, but with a kind of pressure I felt in my bones.

One of them passed between two stones and—without touching anything—left behind a streak of frost along the rock. Another slid over a patch of moss, and the moss withered instantly, curling in on itself.

The dungeon wasn’t just throwing monsters at us anymore. It was... showing us something. Testing us.

"Formation," I said quietly, my tone still even. "Dravis, guard Xavier’s right. Renji, stay behind me. Do not engage unless I give the order."

They obeyed.

The shapes didn’t rush us. They hovered, circling just beyond weapon range, as if waiting for... something.

A crackle of violet light touched my vision. The fog seemed to breathe, expanding and contracting with the rhythm of my pulse. I realized then—these things weren’t alive. Not in the way wolves were.

They were part of the dungeon itself.

And they weren’t here to fight.

They were here to keep us inside.

I tightened my grip on my sword, voice calm but firm. "Stay sharp. The real fight hasn’t started yet."

In the silence that followed, one of the shapes suddenly twitched, its head—or what passed for it—snapping toward the deeper valley.

Something else was coming.

The chimes stopped.

The fog moved.