Chapter 11: The Blind Person’s Grace

“You learned sorcery from your father?”

“Yes, something like that.”

“Huh… Well, that’s certainly unusual.”

Soren, walking in step with the others, furrowed his brows.

It was hard to understand what Bork meant.

“I don’t mean anything bad by it, kid. It’s just… you’re different from the usual sorcerers.”

“Mr. Bork is right. Sorcerers don’t usually pass down their magic to their own children.”

Moss, who had been cautiously scanning the room, nodded in agreement.

He turned and asked, “Isn’t that so, Yerena?”

“Well, yeah.”

Yerena, the mage of Karel’s party, nodded with a detached expression.

Leaning on her staff with a slouch, she glanced sideways at Soren before continuing.

“Sorcerers typically stop at a teacher-student relationship. Once they’ve taught everything there is to teach, they don’t stay bound to that connection.”

“I mean, I was technically a student too.”

“Kid, you’re a son before you’re a student. That’s what makes it unusual. Most sorcerers don’t do that.”

According to her, sorcerers were extremely closed-off people.

They usually only maintain master-apprentice relationships, deliberately shutting off any other connections.

The master teaches sorcery, and the apprentice receives the teachings.

That’s all the relationship is for—purely for the sake of that exchange.

So, as Yerena explained, it’s rare for someone to teach sorcery to their own child before establishing a master-apprentice bond.

“When a student has learned nearly everything, the master simply leaves.”

“And after that?”

“After that, they never take on another student for the rest of their life. I’ve heard single-line succession is the golden rule in sorcery…”

Soren quietly nodded.

He was starting to understand why sorcerers were so rare.

The principle of single-line transmission was holding them back.

“But wait—why are you even asking about this? Aren’t you a sorcerer?”

Yerena asked with a baffled look.

Soren had no good answer for that.

‘It’s not like that kind of thing was written in any guidebook, and having lived alone in a cabin with his father, how would he have known?’

“I don’t know either.”

“Hah… unbelievable.”

“Sorry for not knowing, ma’am.”

“…Hey, kid. You wanna die? I’m not a ma’am.”

Leaving the flustered Yerena behind, Soren quickly walked up beside Karel.

Karel, leading the way, shot him a sideways glance.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. That lady was just getting too noisy.”

“Don’t call her ‘lady.’”

Soren shut his mouth without a word.

He had a feeling Yerena and Karel had that kind of relationship.

When Soren fell silent, everyone else grew quiet too.

Loreia didn’t talk much to begin with, and the others were now focused on exploring the dungeon.

The group of seven adventurers, Soren included, continued pressing forward.

They pierced through the darkness of the dungeon, choosing paths at occasional forks in the road.

And somewhere along the way, a question began to rise in Soren’s mind.

‘How long are we staying together?’

Karel’s party and Moss’s party originally operated separately.

It made sense that Soren was temporarily with Moss’s party, but there was no need for the two parties to stick together.

“There’s no reason to split up, is there? Especially now that our numbers are down.”

Moss had addressed that neatly.

After all, Karel’s party had lost Vico, so they would naturally prefer the safer route.

The earlier tension between the groups had eased significantly.

It felt more like an uncomfortable but manageable cohabitation now.

Soren started counting the days since they’d entered the dungeon.

‘The first day, I was rejected at the dream check and couldn’t sleep at all…’

He’d slept twice since then.

That meant it was the fourth day of exploration.

The dungeon gate opened once every seven days.

They still had three days to go before they could leave.

Soren wasn’t planning to leave just yet.

His body felt like it was breaking down from exhaustion, and his mind was foggy, but all he’d collected so far were a few scraps of junk.

Failing the dream import check had hit him hard.

He had basically lost two days between staying awake and collapsing afterward.

“Let’s head that way now.”

“Sounds good.”

‘Still better than being alone.’

At least now he could experience what it felt like to be part of a party—something he couldn’t get from the management office.

Sure, having to split the loot after fights was a downside, but on his own, he wouldn’t have even found those monster rooms.

***

After clearing out goblins and sifting through junk for anything useful, they continued their way forward.

Soren was slowly getting used to the dungeon’s darkness.

According to schedule, today was the day to escape the dungeon.

That’s why he woke up a bit later than usual and filled his belly with plenty of food.

They even made sure to avoid any monster rooms.

There was no reason to take risks on the day they were supposed to leave.

“We’re not the only ones searching for the exit. Other parties will be looking too.”

“Plus, who knew what kind of group they might run into—or what kind of situation might unfold?”

There were no fancy tricks to staying alive in a dungeon.

The best approach was to detect variables as early as possible—and neutralize them before they became a problem.

“From now on, let’s keep an eye out for signs of people.”

“Good idea.”

Neither Soren nor the two parties slacked off on that front.

In fact, they became more cautious than ever—scanning their surroundings thoroughly before entering any room.

Their search progressed smoothly.

There were no monsters in the corridors, and multiple forks in the road allowed them to avoid monster rooms with ease.

As they cautiously searched for the exit, they passed by a ruined chamber.

***

BOOM!

A tremor strong enough to knock pebbles loose echoed through the air.

Soren’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Looks like a Return Room just appeared.”

Karel murmured as he steadied himself.

Just as he said, it had to be the aftermath of the Return Room forming—an exit room that allowed one to leave the dungeon.

Everything in the dungeon begins and ends with a “room.”

Exploration is simply moving from one room to another.

Just like they used a Starting Room to enter the dungeon, they needed a Return Room to leave it.

And like the Starting Room, the Return Room is created the same way—by descending and striking the ground.

“Loreia, which direction did the tremor come from?”

Moss asked in a low voice.

Loreia, who had been leading the way, stood still, closed her eyes, and focused.

Soren silently watched her peculiar behavior.

To him, the tremor had come from every direction—but could she really sense the right path using just her five senses?

“Stop staring. It’s distracting.”

“Ah, sorry.”

He got scolded for that one.

Soren scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

Loreia, unfazed, went right back to her search.

“That way.”

***

A moment later, she lazily lifted her finger and pointed.

Everyone’s eyes turned to follow her direction.

A pitch-black hallway stretched out, nothing visible beyond it.

But Loreia kept jabbing that way with growing confidence.

Eventually, Moss accepted it and stepped forward.

“Let’s move.”

The path toward the source of the tremor wasn’t any different from the ones they’d passed before—damp, dark, and chilly.

Occasionally, burnt-out torches or lanterns rolled across the floor, and a thin mist hung low along the ground.

Loreia pressed forward without hesitation.

Moss and Lura followed closely behind her.

Soren and Yerena held the middle of the formation, while the barbarian warrior Bork and Karel guarded the rear.

As they cautiously made their way forward, an open space suddenly came into view.

A so-called “empty room.”

That’s what they would’ve called it under normal circumstances.

“It’s here,” Yerena murmured softly.

Just like she said, there were two small rooms tucked away in a corner, resembling the Room of Beginnings.

Return Chambers.

Two of them—just enough for their group.

Karel’s expression immediately brightened.

“This expedition was especially fucked. Let’s get out of here and rest already.”

“But Karel, Vico is…”

“I know, damn it. Good archers or rogues are hard to come by.”

The fact that he could complain was proof they had survived.

Vico, who would remain behind due to the ban on dream imports, didn’t even have the luxury of being worried.

“Let’s just escape. It’s better to get out and rest as soon as—”

“Wait.”

Before they could approach the Return Chambers, Loreia, who had been quietly standing at the front, raised a hand to stop them all.

Soren eyed her uneasily.

There was no one better than Loreia when it came to detection skills.

Which meant there was a good reason to halt, even with the exit right in front of them.

Sensing the shift, everyone in the party gripped their weapons tighter, tension thickening in the air.

Soren did the same.

In the dim space, the Return Chambers glowed faintly in one corner of the empty room.

All around were shadowed bushes and rocks—perfect spots for someone to hide.

Sure enough, after a few moments, lights flickered on throughout the room.

“Well, well… Looks like someone’s sharp.”

Soren’s eyes darted around quickly.

A total of eight figures emerged from the shadows, each holding a lantern.

‘These guys… they’re a team.’

Dungeon parties were restricted to four people.

But not everyone followed the rules.

[The Room of Beginnings only allows four per group, but some clans who aim for raids or large-scale boss hunts bend the rules a bit. They time it so they draw numbers consecutively, enter separately, then regroup inside.]

It was a loophole, plain and simple.

The Management Bureau didn’t outright forbid it either, which made things especially troublesome for newer explorers.

“Look at this. Those packs look nice and full.”

“Hey, friends. Why don’t we have a little heart-to-heart?”

Because once you ran into raiders like these, there really was no way out.

Raiding was officially punishable, but in reality, no one cared what went on inside the dungeon.

The dead told no tales, and the looters would gleefully climb into the Return Chambers without a care in the world.

It wasn’t uncommon for explorers to turn raider for one last big score.

And judging by what Soren saw, the people in front of them were exactly that kind.

“Shit. We’re screwed.”

Karel muttered a curse under his breath.

Soren agreed with every word.

They were completely cornered.

“Don’t waste your strength. Drop your weapons and throw your bags over here.”

“Let’s make this easy, yeah? No need for anyone to get hurt.”

The raiders chuckled and slowly drew their weapons.

Four of them raised crossbows.

‘This is bad.’

Soren glanced behind.

The passage they came through was still open.

But if they turned and ran, they’d have crossbow bolts in their backs before they made it three steps.

“I don’t see why we should give up our packs.”

“Kid, just flapping your mouth doesn’t make it true. Stop acting tough and hand it over.”

When Karel added his voice, the bald-headed leader of the raiders snarled in response.

Soren looked closely at him.

His half-bald scalp glistened under the lantern light, and his wall-eyed gaze gleamed menacingly.

“Or what? You wanna do this the hard way?”

In terms of raw numbers, they were only one person short.

Eight versus seven.

The problem was, the enemy was already fully prepped.

Crossbows loaded and ready to fire.

That gave them a serious advantage.

Meanwhile, their side still needed to draw their weapons.

Plus, Soren and Yerena were both mages.

To cast spells, they needed to chant.

To use rituals, they needed to sense.

At the start of a fight, that effectively put them down two people.

“Moss,” Soren called softly to the man in front of him.

Moss flinched as he turned his head slightly.

“What is it?”

“I’ll blind the ones with the crossbows. Hold the front until then.”

Soren held a cursed stone in his hand.

Moss caught a glimpse of it and gave a barely noticeable nod.

He was carrying a shield.

Holding the front for a few moments should be doable.

“O dark shadow of the moon, grant thy blind blessing upon them, O great Kun Allak.”

As Soren began to chant, his staff trembling, the raider leader immediately noticed the shift and shouted, “Hey! You! You wanna die? Sit down and stay still!”

The tension skyrocketed.

Karel turned to glare at Soren as if to ask if he’d lost his mind.

But no—Karel was the crazy one for believing they could negotiate with raiders.

“Kun Allak has come. What is thy wish?”

In the hushed darkness, the whispers of the god of moonlight and blindness tickled Soren’s ears.

‘Seventy-one.’

He dug quickly through his bag.

Finally, he pulled out a severed rabbit ear.

Amazingly, it was the last offering he’d packed.

“Hey! Mage bastard! You deaf or something?”

“Just kill him already!”

“Move a finger and I’ll put a hole in your skull—”

And then—

A pale moonlit glow descended.

A blessing from the god of madness, who made even blindness feel like grace.

‘The grace of the Blind One.’

The moment Soren heard the divine reply, he smiled despite the cold sweat trickling down his brow.

“May your will be done.”

Great Kun Allak.

“What the—!?”

“Fire!”

“Kill them!”

Crossbow bolts flew through the air—

But so did shadows, sticky and dark, trailing through the air like tendrils.

The Blind One’s grace was unleashed.