Chapter 20: The Treasure and the Guardian Part 1

Setting out to find the treasure chamber.

In truth, Soren didn’t really mind the idea.

‘We need to flip the board at least once. It’s worth the risk.’

This wasn’t the time to nitpick—circumstances were far from favorable.

So when Moss first brought it up, Soren tried to think positively about it.

But the more he thought about it, the more he couldn’t help but look at Moss with a sour expression.

“Moss, no matter how desperate we are, gambling here too is just…”

“What do you mean by that?”

To Soren’s surprise, Moss looked genuinely confused.

Moss glanced around, seemingly at a loss, then turned his head, silently asking for help.

“Come to think of it, we are in this mess because of this gambling addict.”

“Not exactly wrong…”

No one stepped up to defend Moss.

Of course not—he was the one who got so swept up in gambling that he spent the party funds.

It’s hard the first time, but the second and third go surprisingly easy.

Justifying things to yourself becomes as natural as breathing.

“Guys! I may be a gambler, but I wouldn’t bet dungeon exploration money!”

“But what if we don’t find the treasure chamber?”

“That’s…”

Moss fell silent.

As Soren pointed out, this “treasure chamber hunt” that Moss proposed wasn’t far off from a gamble.

The biggest issue was whether there was even a reliable method to find the treasure chamber in the first place.

And beyond that, they had to rely on uncertain probabilities.

“So, what are we going to do?”

But when Moss asked that back, Soren found himself at a loss for words.

He smacked his lips with an awkward expression.

He knew one thing for sure—this situation wasn’t great.

And they did need a big breakthrough.

Losing a whole day’s worth of dungeon progress meant they’d wasted nearly two days out of the week.

They had to make up for that lost time somehow.

And junk scrap metal wasn’t going to cut it.

***

After a moment’s thought, Soren finally spoke.

“I’ll go along with Moss’s idea.”

“Ugh… this makes me nervous.”

“Agreed.”

Bork looked uneasy, and Loreia agreed without realizing how annoyed she sounded.

She just seemed to enjoy the chaos.

“What’s the plan, then?”

In the end, the decision-making fell to Moss.

Soren tried to suppress the unease that came with that.

Either way, whatever path they took, it was a gamble.

Besides, Moss was the party leader.

Now was the time to work together.

“Alright then… first, let’s retrace our steps.”

Moss began selecting a path.

The formation returning the way they came looked the same as before.

As the party moved forward with tired steps, Soren quietly unfolded the map.

‘The treasure chamber, huh.’

It was about time to aim for a big win.

The method Moss suggested to find the so-called treasure chamber was simple.

“We’ll use every resource we’ve got.”

They’d make full use of the miracles of Erelaphion and Soren’s rituals.

Moss could only invoke miracles three times a day at most, and Soren could cast as many rituals as he had offerings for.

In terms of frequency, it seemed doable.

The only problem was they didn’t have enough offerings to cast spells indefinitely.

‘Who knows what kind of offerings these beings even prefer?’

It wasn’t like you could pick up some dog poop off the ground and offer it to a god.

Each god had their own preferences, and those preferences could be absurdly rare or simply unavailable.

At least Moss’s powers refreshed after a night’s rest, but Soren didn’t have that luxury.

“Battar Khan, lord of festival and hunt, please watch over us.”

***

After some discussion, the group decided to begin with a ritual.

While it didn’t recharge over time like miracles did, rituals were more flexible and readily available for the moment.

The hawk feather in Soren’s hand began to float gently, spinning in the air before pointing in a specific direction.

“This way.”

“Good. Lucky for us, we’re currently in the Cave of Chill…”

The frost god Uth Kaldan, who ruled over ice and chill, was the brother of Battar Khan.

Thanks to that connection, Battar Khan’s blessing reached this place as well, and Soren was able to use his guiding rituals, just as he had in the overgrown den before.

The portability of the hawk feathers helped, too.

He still had about a dozen or so in his glass bottle.

Unless something really strange happened, they wouldn’t run out any time soon.

“Things are going pretty smoothly right now.”

“I don’t know if we’re really heading toward the treasure chamber…

Whether or not the treasure chamber was actually ahead, at least they were consistently choosing promising paths.

They avoided unnecessary battles, and if a room held something valuable, they prioritized it.

As a result, the party’s bags were getting quite full.

At this rate, they could probably leave soon if they wanted to.

Of course, that was just a figure of speech.

Leaving now wasn’t an option.

***

“…He’s not responding anymore.”

Battar Khan’s blessings weren’t endless.

Soren returned the unresponsive feather to the glass bottle.

Still, getting three successful results was already generous.

Usually, the gods responded only once or twice at most.

‘Is it because we helped his brother god? Looks like even gods have some sibling affection.’

If he had to guess why Battar Khan had been so cooperative, the only answer was that they’d wiped out the kobolds.

Soren realized that dungeon gods had more human-like relationships than he expected.

It felt a little silly to describe a god as “human-like,” but there wasn’t a better word for it.

Getting to know the gods of the dungeon was important.

Like it or not, they were Soren’s trading partners, and knowing them was key to securing a better deal.

That was the foundation of ritual.

His father had said so.

‘Soren, rituals aren’t just “please do this” and then poof, it happens. You need to make fair trades.’

‘But if they’re so powerful, how do you even make a fair trade?’

‘That’s why you need to understand them. What they desperately want, and what you can give in return.’

‘Was Soren making fair trades now?’

He wasn’t sure.

He hadn’t reached that level yet.

But he knew one thing—he’d made real progress since entering this dungeon.

Even in the overgrown den, by the end, Kun Allak’s rituals had started working better for him.

‘I have to grow.’

He had to keep growing.

Absorb everything.

That was the only way to survive.

He needed to build his own tower, using the foundation his father left behind.

And the same went for the rest of the party.

“I’ll take it from here.”

Now that Battar Khan’s responses had stopped, Moss stepped forward.

The miracles of Erelaphion were like a shield wrapped around him.

A golden light shimmered and fired a beam pointing in a direction.

“I think we should go that way.”

“Let’s go!”

Bork shouted immediately, his roar full of barbarian courage.

Soren looked at him with an unimpressed expression.

‘Courage, my ass. You ran screaming when we saw those kobolds.’

“Yeah… let’s go.”

But in a dungeon, what people often call courage could easily turn into recklessness.

At the very least, Bork was good at navigating that fine line.

The party delved deeper into the dungeon.

The cold and darkness of the Cave of Chill were gradually pushed back by their lanterns.

***

After the kobold pack had been wiped out, the cave had grown eerily quiet.

Soren had two ideas why.

One, the kobolds’ territory was limited.

Two, outside that territory was relatively safe.

Now that they were out of the kobold nest’s territory, they were safer.

But that sense of security didn’t last long.

“That’s…”

Soren stared blankly ahead.

Just beyond the shadows of the corridor, something stood in the center of the next room.

Two figures—humanoid forms made of pale stone.

“Frost Golems. And there are two of them.”

Moss muttered with a grim expression.

Soren recognized the name, though vaguely.

“Frost Golems inhabit the Cave of Chill. They’re not monsters in the usual sense—they’re more like artificially created spirits.”

Just as kobolds once worshipped gods of fire and hammer, Uth Kaldan had worshippers too.

Most of them were destroyed long ago in a war of fire, but their legacy still clung to existence.

Frost Golems were part of that legacy.

Artificial life, crafted through magic.

‘Or… should they even be called life?’

‘Are they even alive?’

To Soren, who defined living things as something that eats and poops, the frost golems looked more like pale boulders.

Still, they were shaped like humans—oddly so.

“This won’t be easy.”

“Indeed. I’ve never fought one, but I’ve heard plenty of stories.”

Moss was fairly well connected.

‘Maybe not famous among upper-tier explorers, but well-known enough among the lower ranks. And that was better than nothing.’

“You need to aim for the core in their foreheads. Everything else is basically solid rock… See that thing that looks like a glass bead? That’s the Frost Core. Do you see it?”

Thanks to Moss’s info, the enemy’s weak point was made clear right away.

Soren and the others focused their attention on the golems.

Their faces had features like a human’s—eyes, nose, and mouth.

The most striking feature was the dull glass orb embedded in the center of its forehead.

Soren glanced at it discreetly.

That’s the core.

“I see it. So, what now?”

“Do we fight it? I don’t think my axe will do much damage.”

“It’s just… too hard.”

Bork and Loreia weren’t well-matched against golems.

Their axe blades didn’t bite, their crossbow bolts didn’t stick, and daggers were completely useless.

Soren’s spells, at least, weren’t affected by compatibility.

And Moss had an easier time smashing things with his flail.

‘This is going to be a pain.’

That didn’t mean it would be easy to handle.

Soren wasn’t thrilled with the situation either.

He’d rather not deal with massive hunks of stone.

“But everyone, look over there.”

Still, there was one compelling reason they couldn’t just leave the golems alone.

Everyone’s eyes turned in the direction Moss was pointing.

Between the two golems, partially buried under a pile of rubble, was a chest.

And this was no ordinary chest.

It was trimmed with silver foil, covered in strange engravings, and most importantly—it hadn’t rotted.

Soren, Moss, Bork, and Loreia exchanged silent glances.

A treasure chest.

This wasn’t some moldy crate or a jar stuffed with junk.

That was definitely a treasure chest.

Moss’s eyes gleamed unnaturally as he stared at it.

“You’re really gonna just leave that behind?”

“…”

Soren swallowed dryly.

He hated taking unnecessary risks, but the sweet temptation of that chest was impossible to resist.

It was maddening.

And he wasn’t the only one wrestling with his inner greed—Bork and Loreia were frowning and eyeing the chest just as hard.

***

‘How are we supposed to get past those things?’ But then—

“We don’t fight them. We just go in quietly and grab the chest.”

“…Is that even possible?”

“Golems only react to a wizard’s mana.”

“Oh.”

Soren’s eyes lit up.

He searched his memory—and yes, something like that had been mentioned in a guide.

If they only reacted to a wizard’s mana, then their current party might actually be safe.

“Shall we test it?” Moss asked.

“Let’s do it,” Soren replied.

“What are you waiting for? Let’s move,” Bork added.

The party sprang into action without hesitation.

Loreia, the most agile among them, entered first.

Moss followed a few steps behind, just in case.

Soren and Bork stayed back to cover them.

“I’ll be right back,” Loreia said.

“Treasure secured,” Moss added with a grin.

With that, Moss and Loreia entered the room.

Soren watched them nervously.

The golems shouldn’t move.

But still, the tension was hard to shake.

Bork chuckled and nudged Soren playfully.

“Relax, kid. That gambler’s never been wrong.”

“You seem to know a lot about dungeons,” Soren said.

“He’s apparently part of a pretty famous clan—or so I’ve heard. Either way, he’s reliable.”

Bork spoke confidently—just as it happened.

Whoosh—!

A sudden burst of light filled the room.

Soren and Bork quickly turned their heads.

“W-What the…?”

A bright red fireball blazed to life in the darkness of the opposite corridor.

Below the fiery glow, Soren could see four figures.

He couldn’t make out the others clearly, but the woman holding the staff was definitely a mage.

“F-Fire! Fire!” Soren shouted.

“Argh!”

Boom!

The fireball shot across the room, barely missing Moss’s head.

He managed to dodge it by sheer luck, flailing in a panic—but now they had a problem.

Grrrrrk—

A terrible screeching noise clawed at their ears.

Soren turned toward the source of the sound, eyes trembling.

The two frost golems, which had been perfectly still until now, were shifting.

Chunks of rubble fell from their bodies as they began to move.

“Uh… Bork?” Soren called, voice tight.

“Aw, crap,” Bork muttered.

They were seriously screwed.

Bork fumbled to ready his hand axe.

Soren also hurriedly gripped his staff.

Thud!!

One of the frost golems took a step forward.

“Loreia! Moss! Run!” Soren shouted.

The enemy mage party looked completely caught off guard.

They just stood there, staring dumbly at the awakening golems.

Soren clenched his teeth hard enough to grind them.

Those idiot bastards…!

Monsters weren’t the only things to watch out for in a dungeon.

Wherever you went, it was always people who were the most dangerous.