Chapter 71: Treasure Hunt

Adam let out another long-suffering sigh, the mist from his breath swirling in the dim light. He turned his head, fixing his galactic eyes on the Umbral Weave Matriarch who was still radiating amused satisfaction. “You seem awfully pleased with yourself, Lilith.”

Lilith delicately cleaned one of her forelegs, her psychic voice the picture of innocence. «Pleased? I am merely… appreciating the harmonious group dynamics. The growth in our relationships is as vital as our physical evolution, is it not?»

The sheer, elegant dishonesty of it made Adam snort. “Right. You were ’appreciating’ me getting verbally mobbed. I see.” He made a mental note, ’I’ll reply later Lilith, you’ll see.’

Shaking off the thought, he focused on the pulverized remains of the Hexsadder. Wasting resources was unwise. He consumed the bizarre creature, gaining a small amount of mass and a new, intriguing skill fragment.

[ Skill Fragment Acquired: Lone Hunter’s Alacrity – 0.4/1.0 ]

[ Incomplete. Grants a moderate increase to Agility and reaction speed when fighting a single enemy alone. Effectiveness diminishes with allies present.]

’Huh. A solo specialist’s skill. Niche, but potentially very powerful in the right circumstance.’ He tucked that knowledge away.

His thoughts then turned to practical matters. He scanned the Arachnowyrm’s former lair, the cavern now a grave for two powerful beings. “Something’s bugging me,” he rumbled aloud. “A Dungeon Lord of her age and power… where’s the hoard? The treasure? There should be something. Adventurer gear, magical items, minerals… something.”

Lilith paused her grooming. «An astute point. I was… preoccupied with my captivity and subsequent evolution to catalog her storage habits. However, it is logical. She was an apex predator and a sentient being. She would have collected prizes from powerful prey, and adventurers certainly qualify.»

«Let me look,» Alice’s voice cut in, already gliding forward with her new regal grace, her nose to the ground and her void-sensitive eyes scanning the walls. «If there’s a hidden treasure, I’ll find it. My senses are sharper now.»

«I wanna find treasure! I wanna find shiny things!» Ignis yelped, immediately bounding after Alice, her claws scrabbling on the stone. «Can I burn through walls if they’re in the way? Huh? Can I?»

“No,” Adam and Alice said in unison, one weary, one stern.

“We seek subtlety, Ignis,” Lilith added, gliding along the shadows of the wall, her own keen senses probing. “The best treasures are often hidden, not buried.”

Alice, her new horns glowing faintly with void energy, paced slowly along the perimeter of the cavern. Her nose twitched, and her Mana Siphon skill was actively pulling at the faint traces of lingering magic in the air, tasting them. She paused near a thick, calcified wall of old webbing that had been partially fused to the stone by intense heat—a casualty of Ignis’s enthusiastic flames during their initial battle with the Arachnowyrm’s brood.

«Here,» she announced, her regal tone edged with focus. «The mana signatures… they’re faint, but there’s a concentration behind this. Something was stored here, shielded by layers of silk and psychic dampening.»

Adam slithered over, the soft glow of his Solar Corona state illuminating the darkened area. “Can you get to it?”

«The web is hardened, but more importantly, it’s been… cooked,» Alice replied, prodding the substance with a claw. It crumbled like ashen bark. «Ignis’s fire from before must have swept through here. The structural and magical integrity is gone.»

Ignis trotted up, looking from the wall to Alice’s face. «My fire? Did I help find it? Was it good fire?» she asked, eager for validation.

“It might have been too good, Ignis,” Adam said, a sinking feeling in his gut. “Alice, can you open it?”

The Umbral Regent Panther extended a paw, and shadows gathered around her claws. With a precise swipe, she tore through the brittle, charred webbing. It fell apart in large, dusty chunks, revealing a shallow recess in the wall.

The niche was a mess. Several cloth sacks had been reduced to ash piles, their contents likely potions or alchemical components long evaporated or combusted. A few scroll cases were blackened and split, the parchment inside nothing but fragile charcoal. The acrid smell of burnt magic and leather filled the air.

“Of course it’s also burning inside!” Adam hissed, his tail lashing. “Quick, see if anything survived!”

The four of them descended on the niche, sifting through the debris with a desperate urgency that overrode their usual dynamics. Ignis used careful puffs of air to blow away soot, while Lilith’s delicate legs sorted through fragments.

«Gold!» Ignis yelped, holding up a handful of coins that were sooty but unmistakably intact. «Lots of gold! It’s all melty-looking but it’s here!» She was right. Beneath the layer of ash was a substantial pile of gold and silver coins, fused together in places by the heat but largely recoverable.

«Metal survives fire, Ignis. The true tragedy is the knowledge lost,» Lilith said, gesturing with a leg towards the scroll ashes.

But then Adam’s tail brushed against something solid and smooth. He carefully hooked it and pulled it out—a sturdy, iron-bound chest, its surface blackened but unbroken. The lock had melted shut, but a single powerful wrench from Adam’s jaws pried it open.

Inside, protected from the inferno, were more treasures. Bundles of coins from different kingdoms, a few gemstones that sparkled even in the dim light, and several pieces of adventurer gear that had been stashed here as trophies: a well-made greatsword, a set of twin daggers with serrated edges, and a frost-imbued short sword that still radiated a gentle chill.

“Luckily there are still some that didn’t burn,” Adam breathed, relief flooding him. He surveyed the salvage operation. “Okay. We lost the consumables. The scrolls are gone. That hurts. But the permanent assets—the metal, the gems, the enchanted weapons survived. We’re still rich. Alice, can your Void Locker hold all this?”

“Easily,” she confirmed, already beginning to channel her void energy. The coins, gems, and weapons shimmered and vanished into her personal pocket dimension.

As the last of the valuables disappeared, something else caught Adam’s eye, tucked at the very back of the now-empty chest. It wasn’t shiny or metallic. It was a book, bound in tough, treated leather that had saved it from the worst of the heat. The edges were scorched, but the pages seemed intact. He picked it up gently with his teeth and laid it on the ground.

It was a diary.

Curiosity overriding caution, Adam used a careful tail to turn the pages.

“Entry 47. We have entered the ’Maw,’ as the locals call it. The dungeon’s mana density is unlike anything recorded in the eastern archives of the Kingdom of Melium. I, Researcher Salvaty, along with eight volunteers from the Arcane Surveyor’s Guild, seek to understand why this particular dungeon breeds such potent and chaotic lifeforms. Its ecosystem is an anomaly, its patterns random, defying all established dungeon ecology theories…”

He read on, detailing the party’s gradual descent into despair as the dungeon lived up to its vile reputation. The loss of five members in two days. The decision to retreat. And then, the encounter.

“…it emerged from a side tunnel we had dismissed as empty. A serpent of immense size, its scales a pure, blinding white. It did not attack immediately. It… watched us. Its gaze was intelligent, sharp, a hissing sound filling the silence. It let us run. I thought it was mercy. I was a fool. It was sport. One by one, my companions were plucked from the formation, swallowed whole or crushed before my eyes. Their screams… I ran. I ran from the horror of its cold, playing eyes. I am the only one who made it to this relatively safe cavern. I can hear things moving in the walls. I don’t think I will leave.”

The entry ended there.

A cold, heavy silence fell over the group. The description was vivid, terrifying.

Adam felt a strange, deep jolt of recognition. Not of memory, but of a missing piece of a puzzle he hadn’t fully known he was solving.

A white-scaled serpent.

His own earliest memories surfaced. Hatching in darkness. The immediate, desperate scramble. The cannibalism among his hatchling siblings. The sheer, brutal efficiency required to survive from his first breath. He had always assumed his progenitor was just another monster, a mindless beast following dungeon instincts.

But this diary suggested something else. A sentient parent. A Dungeon Lord in its own right. The being that laid the clutch of eggs from which he, Adam Smith, had emerged.

“The one who… laid me, It’s her..” Adam said slowly, his words sounding foreign. “Or maybe this monster has nothing to do with me, but it’s still a possibility… Looks like we’ve found another dungeon boss.”

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