Chapter 137: Valley Of Stone Teeth

The third coordinate led Sage far from the familiar sprawl of Greyvale’s outskirts, beyond the crooked roads and thinning treelines, into a region where the earth itself seemed scarred by ancient violence.

Jagged stone walls rose like broken teeth on either side of a narrow valley, their surfaces cracked and layered, veined with darker minerals that caught the faint moonlight like the dull sheen of old steel.

Wind swept through the canyon in low, restless currents, carrying the dry scent of dust and metal. It whispered against the rock as if the land were murmuring in a language too ancient for humans to comprehend.

Sage stood at the mouth of the valley for several long seconds, unmoving. His bloodstained coat stirred faintly around his legs as he surveyed the terrain.

Unlike the previous two dungeon sites, which had been half-hidden in forest and stone, this one announced itself with brutal clarity. The land here was already shaped like a wound, and instinct told him that whatever dungeon formed within it would not be gentle.

“A rocky valley,” he murmured under his breath, narrowing his eyes slightly. “So that’s what you chose.”

He didn’t need the system to tell him what that meant; he had already seen the pattern. The forest dungeon had birthed beasts of vine, bark, and predatory bloom.

The first dungeon, emerging among broken stone and weeds, had given rise to creatures of hardened hide and mineral growth.

A dungeon took on the skin of its surroundings and sculpted monsters from its memory. If that rule held true, then what awaited him beyond this portal would not be creatures of flesh and leaf.

They would be creatures of stone. Sage rolled his shoulders slowly, ignoring the dull ache lingering in his bones. He closed his eyes for a moment to steady himself.

He rearranged the contents of his bag by touch alone, ensuring that his notebook was secure and also made sure nothing loose would trip him or distract him once he stepped through.

Taking one slow breath after another, he finally opened his eyes and approached the distortion before him. The portal hung between two leaning stone slabs like a vertical scar in reality; its surface rippled faintly, reflecting neither sky nor valley but something darker, a depth layered with drifting motes of dull light.

Sage reached out; fingers brushed against its surface. Cold surged through his skin, not like winter but reminiscent of deep underground caverns where sunlight never penetrated.

Then he stepped forward; reality seemed to fold around him. For a heartbeat there was nothing. And then solid ground returned beneath his boots.

He emerged into another valley, this one wider, deeper, and far more oppressive than before. Towering stone walls curved inward like ribs surrounding a titanic carcass; jagged cliffs enclosed this space in an almost half-bowl shape.

The sky above was dim, shrouded in a murky hue, as if light itself struggled to penetrate the oppressive atmosphere of the dungeon. The air tasted dry and heavy, tinged with a faint metallic flavor that scraped against his throat like fine sand with each breath.

Instinct drove Sage to hide, not from weakness, but from survival. As soon as his boots touched the ground, he rolled sideways, pressing himself against a cluster of broken stone. He held his breath, every sense flaring outward.

His training had instilled discipline in him. His first dungeon had taught him caution; the second had imparted respect. This one, even before he encountered a single monster, filled him with fear. The very environment felt wrong.

The ground sloped unevenly downward from where he lay, littered with cracked boulders and sharp outcrops that formed narrow ravines where shadows pooled thick and deep.

Ahead loomed wide stone platforms stacked like the steps of a giant altar, each rising toward a central rock formation that jutted upward like an enormous fang.

Faint vibrations trembled through the earth at irregular intervals, too subtle to be called quakes but persistent enough for Sage to feel them in the soles of his boots. Just as he began to edge forward for a clearer view, he sensed it.

Movement, not just any movement, the stone around him shifted. From cracks in the ground and behind slabs of fractured rock emerged shapes shedding dust and gravel as they rose.

At first indistinct silhouettes, merely uneven bulges of stone, they soon unfolded into something far more menacing: dungeon monsters.

They didn’t resemble beasts wearing stone; they looked like stone masquerading as beasts. Their bodies were made up of layered rock plates fused together into jagged structures.

Some moved on four thick limbs like living boulders, their “heads” mere angular protrusions studded with glowing mineral nodes pulsing faintly with internal mana.

Others dragged themselves upright on pillar-like legs, their torsos composed of stacked slabs grinding against each other as they turned, a sound reminiscent of distant millstones.

Crystalline growths jutted from their joints and shoulders, refracting what little light existed into dull glimmers that danced across their bodies as they advanced toward him, not wandering aimlessly but converging purposefully.

Sage’s expression darkened at this realization. “So hiding isn’t an option,” he murmured quietly to himself. “You don’t even pretend.”

A chill settled in his chest; the dungeon was denying him the luxury of preparation or stealth. Whether through some detection mechanism or sheer environmental design, it was herding him into confrontation.

These monsters did not scatter or patrol randomly; they converged on him deliberately.

Tier 1 Spawn-Class, his mind assessed automatically, low-level but numerous.

He exhaled slowly, rolled to his feet, and raised one hand as Mana surged around him. The air shimmered before him, and a glowing magic circle materialized.

Crimson lines etched themselves into existence with geometric precision, interlocking triangles and curved sigils weaving together in a pattern that vibrated faintly with heat.

Runes ignited along its circumference, each symbol flaring in sequence as the incantation anchored them into stability.

The circle flared brightly. Then, the sky above the converging monsters tore open in a bloom of incandescent light.

A column of roaring fire plunged downward, not like a stream but as a mass, compressed flame given violent form. It struck the ground among the advancing creatures with a thunderous boom, heat exploding outward in a rolling shockwave.

Stone bodies were hurled aside; some cracked while others shattered entirely, fragments of molten rock scattering across the valley floor as blackened shapes collapsed into glowing rubble.

Sage did not pause. His left hand snapped upward, and a pale blue circle bloomed into existence. The lines formed faster now, more confidently, his mental construction sharpened by previous battles.

The circle collapsed inward, dissolving into bands of compressed air that wrapped around his legs. With a sharp exhalation, Sage launched himself sideways; his body blurred as wind detonated beneath his feet.

He soared across the uneven ground in a controlled arc, landing atop a slanted boulder just as a cluster of stone beasts surged through the space he had occupied.

More were emerging than before.

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