Chapter 8

Before long, people started murmuring.

“Huh? Did I hear that right? A porter wants to go into a dungeon even a Ranker failed?”

“He’s a Necromancer from the looks of his training, but… still, I doubt it’ll work. Unless he’s Dark Lord or something.”

“Yeah. Isn’t he just a beginner Necromancer who can only summon skeletons?”

“Hey, listen. Don’t do anything reckless. No matter how frustrated you are, it’s better to just wait.”

“Yeah, the old man boss really hurts, you know.”

Some shook their heads in disbelief.

Others tried to calm me down and talk me out of it.

After all of Ki Soyul’s repeated failures, the atmosphere was pretty bleak.

They were probably worried I’d stir up more trouble.

“Hey.”

At that moment, an A-rank hunter from Parang stepped forward.

Shin Sunghoon, whose epithet was Speed Sword.

“If you’re a porter, stick to carrying things. Don’t try to show off.”

His words were harsh.

I got it, though.

It was a frustrating situation, and a rookie like me stepping up could get on anyone’s nerves.

‘Well…’

Normally, I might have been intimidated.

Especially with the kind of pressure he radiated—way more intense than the orcs I’d seen days ago.

“……”

It really did feel like I could lose my head to his sword at any moment.

Was this what killing intent felt like?

But.

My gaze was unwavering.

I didn’t back down.

Why? You guys keep failing.

You keep trying again and again even when you fail.

Haven’t you had more than enough chances?

So shouldn’t I get at least one shot?

“Oh? Look at you. Not even blinking, huh? Guess you think you’re something since Shadow Empress keeps treating you with respect…”

Speed Sword muttered quietly, stepping closer.

His hand was already on the hilt of his sword.

A moment later.

“Enough.”

A firm voice cut through the tense cave.

Everyone turned to look.

It was Parang’s number two, Shadow Empress.

With an unreadable expression, she stared straight at me.

“Why? Do you not trust me or something?”

Ki Soyul’s tone was perfectly flat.

Was she just tired?

Or was her pride really wounded?

“That’s not it.”

My answer hung in the silence for a moment.

I didn’t know how long that heavy silence lasted.

Finally, she spoke.

“By the original contract, you’re a porter. You’re not supposed to have a say in dungeon exploration.”

“I know that.”

“Then may I ask why you want to try?”

She tilted her head slightly as she asked.

I replied.

“They said the old man is looking for someone with potential.”

“And?”

“I figured the old man’s ‘Han’ was about wanting to train a disciple. Potential means just that—potential. It’s not about being a finished product.”

“So, you want to take the old man as your master, not defeat him?”

“That might be the hidden clear condition.”

A hidden piece.

Sometimes, dungeons could be cleared by some other method.

And in those cases, the rewards were even bigger than usual.

“A hidden piece, huh…”

Ki Soyul stroked her chin in thought, then nodded.

“All right. But what about the disciple? Are you saying your potential is greater than mine?”

She furrowed her brow.

Speed Sword beside her also glared fiercely.

Hmm, feels like the mood is getting worse.

I quickly waved my hands in denial.

“No, I doubt that’s the case…”

“So you’re not denying it?”

“Uhh…”

Crap.

Am I going to get stabbed before I even get a chance?

I hurriedly came up with another excuse.

“That’s not it. Umm, pain… Yeah, pain! Everyone else here has already felt the pain, right? I’m the only one who hasn’t. It feels like I’m being left out. Besides, weren’t you just taking a break anyway?”

Pff.

A small laugh escaped Ki Soyul’s lips.

She looked at me with an I-knew-it expression.

“That’s it. Now you’re finally showing your true colors.”

True colors? Expression?

What is she talking about all of a sudden?

“You were like that from the start.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I told you, you seemed suspicious. When I was waiting in front of the dungeon, you didn’t have the eyes of a porter. You looked more like a wolf waiting for a chance.”

“……”

“Are you greedy for dungeon rewards? Afraid you’ll miss out on some fortuitous opportunity?”

Seriously.

Shouldn’t this woman be setting up a fortune-teller’s stall, not being a Ranker?

How does she read people just by their eyes?

Or is it just obvious?

‘Anyway.’

My motive got exposed.

It was kind of rude, actually.

A porter promised twenty times the normal reward, eyeing the dungeon’s loot too.

But.

“Go ahead, try it.”

She brushed me off like it was nothing.

“Whatever. I wanted to take a break anyway, and like you said, there’s no answer. I’ve failed too, so I can’t really say anything.”

“Really?”

“Yes. But you only get one shot. As you can see, we’re out of rations, and the rescue team isn’t coming. We need to clear this as soon as possible.”

Suddenly, it felt a little more daunting.

But honestly, not a bad outcome.

If I succeed, it’s huge.

If I fail, oh well.

It’ll just go down as a young guy’s mishap in a dungeon even Rankers couldn’t clear.

“Understood. Thank you.”

I bowed politely.

I know how big a risk it is to give someone else a shot at clearing a high-level dungeon.

You could lose out on a huge reward.

She probably only agreed because she’s certain I won’t clear it.

‘For now.’

Let’s just consider myself in her debt.

Step, step.

I walked carefully up to the “door.”

[If you open the ‘door,’ you can challenge the stage.]

[Open the ‘door’?]

Gulp.

I swallowed, taking a deep breath.

‘It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine.’

‘No one’s died so far, right?’

‘At worst, it’ll just hurt.’

I repeated it to myself dozens of times.

Then—

Clack!

I boldly opened the door.

—

[Stage: White-Haired Old Man with Deep Regret]

[The “regret” is so deep, frost forms on the old man’s hair.]

[Defeat the old man.]

Flash!

The moment I entered, light enveloped me.

It slowly faded after a moment.

Whooooom!

An immense energy pressed down on my whole body, and the cave scenery changed.

“Hurk!”

The weight on my body was so crushing, I gasped for air.

I could see something in front of me, but it was all I could do to keep my eyes open.

Who could radiate this kind of presence?

“What’s this, after a bunch of pathetic girls, now they send in someone even worse?”

In the suffocating air, the old man’s calm voice echoed out.

So that’s him.

That’s the “White-Haired Old Man with Deep Regret” who toyed with even Rankers?

I knew he was a big deal, but his power was beyond anything I’d imagined.

Overwhelming strength!

I instinctively realized.

With a flick of his finger, he could kill me instantly.

Gulp, I swallowed hard.

“Tsk, another one not worth my time. Might as well throw you out quick.”

Flash!

Just as his piercing gaze turned toward me.

[You are facing the memory of the ‘Cursed’ deceased!]

[Hidden condition achieved!]

[Exclusive hidden condition for ‘Unique Ability: Cursed Necromancer’!]

‘Huh?’

I opened my eyes wide at the familiar golden message.

It was just like when I unlocked the “Rule of Ten Thousand Uses!”

[Condition: Encounter the memory of the deceased!]

* A Necromancer is, in the end, someone who commands the dead.
* Encounter a ‘cursed’ soul with powerful will.

‘Cursed’ Necromancer.

‘Cursed’ soul.

Is it just me, or does it feel like both curses came from the same person?

‘Anyway.’

So this old man is actually a dead man.

And he’s cursed.

Somehow, meeting him unlocked my hidden condition.

[Congratulations!]

[A hidden skill has been unlocked!]

[You have acquired the skill ‘Memory Reenactment’ (S-rank)!]

Whoa.

My eyes widened even more.

Above all, I could only focus on one thing.

‘S-rank.’

What does it mean to have an S-rank skill?

It’s the kind of skill that only comes once in a lifetime, after chance encounters within chance encounters, repeating over and over.

‘Is this real?’

I got one just by showing up.

The unexpected fortune left me stunned.

Then, another message appeared.

[You are using the skill ‘Memory Reenactment’ (S-rank).]

Using the skill?

Ah, right.

The old man who was about to toss me out hadn’t made any move.

Like time itself had stopped.

Just as I furrowed my brow at the strange sensation—

[You are reenacting the memory of the ‘Cursed’ deceased, the ‘Master of Ten Thousand Arts.’]

[You will be transported shortly.]

Master of Ten Thousand Arts?

Who’s that?

Is the “White-Haired Old Man with Deep Regret” the same as the “Master of Ten Thousand Arts”?

And what does “Memory Reenactment” even mean?

I didn’t have time to figure it out.

Flash!

An intense light swallowed me whole.

—

Whoooosh!

I opened my eyes.

I was looking out on a snowy mountain covered in white.

There, a white-haired old man stood.

“Sigh, really. How can there be no one suitable? Tsk. But it’s such a waste to just let it all go.”

The old man let out a sigh, looking genuinely regretful.

‘Hmm?’

I furrowed my brow.

Or, rather, tried to—since I had no physical form, just consciousness.

Is this what being a ghost feels like?

It was as if I was dreaming.

I watched the scene from a third-person perspective.

“Life is empty. How long did I work to reach this state, only to be told to throw it all away?”

His breath puffed out in the cold air.

I could instinctively sense the old man’s emotions.

‘First off.’

The place he lived wasn’t Earth.

It was a whole new world I didn’t know.

‘Another world…?’

That’s right.

The old man was a transcendent being from another world.

The absolute ruler of a place overflowing with orcs and strange monsters.

‘There really is another world?’

It was shocking.

But hey, in a world full of dungeons and monsters, what isn’t possible?

“…It’s been a long time.”

With his words, memories flooded into my mind.

“Heh, it was a fun life, though.”

In a world where only the strong survive.

The old man had researched countless types of martial arts and professions.

Swordsmanship, spearmanship, assassination, archery, wizardry, buffs, healing, and more…

“If you just know how to handle energy, all arts are really one.”

He had transcended everything, living a very long life.

It was almost like he’d even surpassed death.

Swordmaster, Martial God, Archmage, Grand Thief…

The titles people called him by changed with the era.

But even the old man.

Couldn’t beat the passage of time.

Even his precious energy couldn’t stop him from aging.

It was too much.

“Even cold water tastes like poison now. Even the lightest air feels like it’s crushing me.”

“It’s torture, pure torture. I’m thirsty.”

“But I can’t die like this. It’s too unfair.”

The old man had one attachment.

The sum of all the skills he’d spent centuries perfecting.

He wanted to pass down those martial arts to the next generation.

Losing them would be like losing himself.

But.

There was no one in this world who could absorb such massive skills in such a short time.

“How could there be so little talent? I don’t want to spread my skills to just anyone. I want to teach just one person who’s really good.”

He searched the whole empire.

All the way out to the remote countryside.

But no one met his standards.

“Ah, how tragic! Was passing it on to just one person too much to hope for?”

In the end, the old man never found a successor.

No one could match his once-in-a-millennium genius.

“Please…”

The old man instinctively realized.

He was running out of time.

He could barely breathe.

His skin started to melt away.

His tongue and throat dried out, parched.

“I don’t want to go like this.”

The little moisture left gathered in his eyes.

Even when his parents died, even when he took a blade to the chest, he hadn’t cried.

Drip.

A tear fell, staining the snow.

The aging he’d held back with energy finally caught up with him.

His skin shriveled, his bones grew thin.

“I’ll sell my soul… I just want to leave behind my complete self.”

Frost formed in his hair, icicles in his beard.

The end of his life.

The old man’s “regret” was as cold as a winter wind.

[Skill ‘Memory Reenactment’ (S-rank) has ended.]