episode_0073

Before setting foot on Scottish soil, I naturally had a plan in mind.

Even for a simple trip, I always make sure to plan ahead and move accordingly. It’s crucial to have a plan, especially for important events like this, as wasting time due to a slight misstep is not an option.

Setting out on Friday evening, I had roughly two days and 6 hours left for my allotted time.

If everything goes smoothly, I can return on Sunday evening, but if time runs short, I can always return by Monday morning.

First, I stepped onto Edinburgh soil through the gate and then arrived in Stirling by train.

However, there was no direct train from Edinburgh to Stirling.

Stirling is relatively remote and the surrounding terrain is rugged, so I had to change trains several times.

That part wasn’t a problem. In fact, I had planned to change trains along the way to enjoy some hidden gems.

So, I changed trains multiple times, diligently searching for the hidden gems I remembered.

And it all went to hell.

“Damn it.”

After arriving in Stirling, I somehow managed to find accommodation.

Navigating through unfamiliar territory wasn’t my forte, but with a good sense of spatial awareness, that fact wasn’t all that important.

Just skimming through the information that came within range, I found the accommodation I was looking for and the route to get there.

After completing the procedures and absentmindedly sipping soup in the restaurant on the first floor, my brain calculator started pounding on its own.

There was no profit, just a bunch of negative numbers popping up.

Those numbers weighed heavily on me. I couldn’t even lift my head and ended up burying it on the table.

The cold sensation made my cheeks tingle.

“Ugh…”

Internally, a groan of frustration echoed. I struggled not to let it slip out, swallowing back tears.

Profit… I had searched through 6 hidden gems, and only found one.

And the moment that one touched my hands, it triggered a chain reaction and vanished.

Cost? It cost me to purchase the one I found.

It was damn expensive.

Part of it was due to my still-developing sense of spending, but being a monster’s byproduct, it came with a hefty price tag.

A Bicorn horn. Just thinking about it made my head ache.

“No way…”

A Bicorn. As far as I knew, it was a mythical creature passed down from the medieval era in Europe… a fictional animal, but a real monster in this world.

Ranked at the 6th hierarchy, with potential to reach up to the 5th hierarchy considering various factors, it was a monster with immense power.

And this was a byproduct of that monster. The horn of a monster also known as the Bicorn.

It was quite expensive.

Even after being subjugated and deteriorating over time, it wasn’t a price one could afford by saving up dignity maintenance fees.

Such a high-priced byproduct… turned to dust in my hands.

I wanted to grab the seller by the collar, shake him, and scold him for saying it wasn’t a product issue…

“Sigh…”

Upon reflection, it seemed that the problem lay with me.

When it comes to characteristics of a Bicorn, impurity and chaos are usually mentioned.

The nature of magic that corrodes and contaminates. As a result, wounds inflicted by a Bicorn are particularly difficult to heal.

On the other hand, a Unicorn’s characteristics are the opposite, purity and innocence. It possesses clean and pure magic.

Perhaps due to this difference in magical nature, Unicorns are relatively docile monsters.

Unicorns and Bicorns are almost always intertwined monsters.

Not only because they belong to the same lineage of mythical creatures, but more so because when the two meet, they go berserk and charge at each other as if possessed.

Rumors spread like wildfire that they clashed as if they were blood enemies meeting on a narrow bridge.

Moreover, it was rumored that the battle continued in a peculiar way, which caught everyone’s attention.

Their magical properties were so different that they stood at odds, causing intense backlash whenever their magic collided…

Backlash.

The bicorn’s magic was impure and chaotic.

The unicorn’s magic was pure and innocent.

And my magic? Pure, innocent…

From the moment I first observed the bicorn’s horn, a sense of unease crept over me, not just spatial perception, but also a rejection based on magic alone.

Upon contact, the energy of the horn, which seemed to reject each other, and my magic…

I shook my head. Slowly piecing together the scattered puzzle.

Rather than the hypothesis that the bicorn’s horn was defective, the speculation that it broke upon colliding with my magic weighed more heavily…

“No way… How could I have known…”

I’m not a unicorn either.

It felt unfair. Who would know that just by touching it, it would suddenly crumble into dust.

And so quickly? Turning into dust right away. I don’t know how durable it was.

The bicorn vs. unicorn was a game I often watched in the original work. I deliberately captured them and made them fight for fun.

The backlash wasn’t so immediate and intense.

At least the horn wasn’t so weak that it would shatter just from contact…

It was just frustrating. The only thing I regretted was not bringing the clamp when I felt the rejection.

I pushed the food into my mouth, spitting out excuses to myself.

I had ordered a proper dinner menu, but there were a lot of fried foods.

Due to the climate making it difficult to get vegetables, and the geographical feature of being on the coast leading to a lot of meat consumption.

That’s why Scottish food was said to be heavy, but I had no way of knowing the truth with my palate.

It certainly looked heavy on the outside.

.

.

.

In my heart, as soon as I arrived in Sifnaha, I wanted to find the dungeon and get started.

Feeling rushed because I had spent time without any results.

But rationally, I knew that was not a good move.

After finishing the duel with Professor Atla in Sioram and sitting briefly on the train, there was no rest other than that.

It wasn’t just physical exhaustion. I was mentally tired, but it was just a tantrum of being full.

But where I was heading now was the dungeon.

In Sioram, all the traps were removed together, there was not much information, and there were no safety devices provided by the vice-chancellor.

If I make a mistake, I could really die.

Even though my skills were rapidly improving, I couldn’t help but shake my head at the thought of having that much confidence.

So I left the city only after resting my eyes for a moment.

Of course, I couldn’t sleep for an hour, and nightmares even attacked me, but somehow, after getting some sleep, my body felt a little better.

– Thud

The 4th-grade dungeon, “Echoes of the Valley,” is located in a remote valley.

The surrounding terrain of Sifnaha is rugged.

The city itself is surrounded by mountains, making it closed off, with even the train having minimal traffic.

I set out before the sun had risen in the early dawn.

I only had a rough idea of the location. This was just a game’s information, so I was prepared to spend time searching.

As expected, it took some time to find the dungeon. Even with spatial perception, it took time, so if I had just searched with my naked eye, it would have taken days.

“……”

The Great Cataclysm had inflicted a great wound on humanity.

Suddenly emerging dungeons devoured the world where humans lived, and monsters that appeared like cockroaches harmed and devoured people.

For over a hundred years, this calamity continued. It was a difficult world for people to live in as humans.

It was different from now. It was the peace that the old heroes had achieved through shedding blood.

If the peace were to end a few years later as in the original, it was still the case.

That’s why such a profession was called a hero.

Although their status may have relatively declined now, in the past, they were treated as heroes in name.

The heroes of that time willingly accepted and proudly boasted of such voices.

The heroes considered killing monsters a noble deed.

Conquering dungeons that spewed out monsters was also considered an honorable task.

For this reason, there is a culture of old heroes that is hard to find now.

In the place where the dungeon was conquered and left floating, there is a culture of carving one’s own or their traces.

“……”

Echoes of the valley… exist in a place.

An unnatural open space located suddenly in the middle of a long mountain range.

A somewhat damaged monument placed in the center, and the names written there…

───────

On a dark day, may this journey become a ray of light

Geolok Grass

Dennis Bearden

Richard Kallail

Artofan Maxwell

Trian Slade

───────

‘Ah.’

One of the reasons for impatience was revealed.

Because it’s not a game. Because this area is where hunters are active. Someone may have already found it, and others may have already conquered it.

My head drooped on its own.

I couldn’t see the sky.

The wings of the sky hanging on my shoulders drooped weakly.

‘Damn.’

Shouldn’t have come out.

It’s a fucking mess.

* * *

A dungeon relatively close to Sifnaha.

Shadows created by faint light inside the dark cave swayed.

– Gururur

The monster, having repelled all external threats and consumed them, let out a satisfying sound from its throat.

Although it was just a sound coming from its throat, the cave echoed. The weaker members of the tribe moved restlessly at the sound of the leader.

The red-furred dogs sniffed towards the remaining scraps of flesh.

Watching the scene, the monster turned its body and checked the wounds carved between the fur marks.

It was regenerated, but there were many wounds carved between the fur marks.

The external threats were strong. With no claws and thin arms and legs, they contained strength.

If they had fought head-on, it would have been difficult to repel the monster no matter how weak it was.

That’s why it hunted.

It pushed the weaker members of the tribe to induce carelessness.

The external threats did not have good night vision. They did not pay attention to their surroundings.

The monster hid its body in the darkness, held its breath, and killed the external threat that looked like the leader at the optimal timing.

Although the external threat was strong, it did not have the same recovery ability. The monster easily killed the external threat with its throat cut.

The remaining scraps were easy and delicious prey.

– Gururur…

The monster with a body that could be mistaken for a large rock nodded its head.

The sky was not visible.

For a monster that had not been born long, the sky was simply the stone ceiling.

The heavy stone made up the sky.

But at this moment, something different was read and transmitted in the monster’s eyes.

The consciousness that this space possessed.

The space whispered to itself, giving it strength.

Soon, the sky would open.