The blazing inferno took a long time to die down, thankfully, the castle's load-bearing walls were made of stone, not something as flammable as wood.
Once Allen confirmed his starting location, he gave up any hope of this exploration yielding decent rewards. Unlike the others who were treated as heirs, he was considered an invader.
That fundamental difference alone meant he shouldn't expect any special privileges, let alone treasures. Even so, Allen didn't abandon his search.
Compared to the others, the risks he faced were several times higher. But at least he had one advantage:
Progress.
No one would build a dungeon right next to the front gate. That would be like encouraging jailbreaks. Only layers upon layers of defenses could minimize the damage in the unlikely event someone escaped.
Which meant, in a twisted way, Allen had actually started near the center of the map. Sure, he didn't get the comforts of the "beginner village," and the monsters were scaled way up, but hey, at least the travel time was shorter.
After the last embers faded into darkness, Allen rose and stepped out of the charred, soot-stained chamber. The next room connected directly to the dungeon, a large, soot-darkened space filled with shadow and silence.
The first thing he noticed was a massive cauldron, cold now, no longer aflame. Inside it, thick, dark-brown potions still bubbled from time to time, each pop releasing a foul, nauseating stench.
There was no doubt this potion was extraordinary.
And yet Allen had no intention of collecting it.
Surrounding the cauldron were piles of rotting, spoiled potion ingredients. But the most disturbing sight was the half of a human skeleton resting beside it.
He didn't want to imagine where the other half had gone.
Suppressing the urge to gag, Allen quickly waved his wand and cast the standard cauldron-cleaning spell he had learned in Potions class. He didn't trust other people's sense of decency. Better to destroy it now than let someone else harvest this grotesque brew for their own use.
With the cauldron cleansed, he searched the wall-mounted wooden cabinets for herbs, clinging to a sliver of hope, but found nothing useful. Time had long since claimed everything. The herbs had rotted away into dust.
The only remotely useful find was a half-finished potion manual, filled mostly with scribbled nonsense. Judging by the quill still lying nearby and the dried-up, custom-made ink, it seemed the original owner had abandoned it mid-creation.
Still slightly queasy, Allen took the book anyway. He had no intention of brewing any of these vile concoctions, but maybe he could at least learn which ingredients to avoid in the future.
After triple-checking the room and confirming there was nothing left to collect, Allen followed a narrow passage leading upward.
The tunnel was tight, clearly built to discourage mass escapes. The lighting tools installed along the walls had long since lost their magic. Without regular maintenance, their glow had faded to nearly nothing. The corridor was filthy, the floor caked with grime, and broken cobwebs clung to every corner like skeletal lace.
Not that Allen was troubled by the darkness.
For one, his enhanced eyesight worked wonders. And secondly, he wasn't entirely in the dark. The castle's persistent dampness had given rise to patches of gray-green moss along the walls. Under the lingering magical residue, the moss glowed faintly, just enough to combine with the dim magical fixtures and let Allen see where he was stepping.
The further he ascended, the fewer the moss patches became, but by then, natural light began to filter in. He could feel a faint breeze brushing past, proof he was nearing the surface.
To be honest, Allen was already sick from the air down here. The rot. The mold. The decay. The reek of burning corpses. Even Bubble-Head Charms couldn't keep all that out. It clung to him, seeping through every barrier, making him want to retch.
Finally, a glimmer of light appeared ahead. But Allen didn't rush toward it in relief. Instead, he carefully raised a violet-colored shield and slowed his pace, moving with precision and caution.
The odds of there not being a trap near the exit?
Basically zero.
Especially in a dungeon like this.
Other areas might be left unguarded out of forgetfulness, but an exit? That was something even the most scatterbrained dungeon master would remember.
And besides, the creators of this place clearly enjoyed watching prisoners fall for the illusion of freedom. Just when they thought salvation was a step away… they'd be yanked back into hell. That kind of emotional whiplash? Sadistic minds would savor it for years.
Sure enough, just as Allen approached the exit, a swarm of rope-like tendrils exploded out from the walls like a nest of angry snakes, lunging toward him, eager to bind their prey.
But the moment they touched Allen's violet shield, it was as if someone had tried to grab a greased eel with bare hands. The ropes slipped right off, unable to find purchase.
They writhed, furious and persistent, lashing out again and again. But every strike slid uselessly off Allen's barrier, like waves crashing against an unyielding rock.
Step by step, Allen advanced through the forest of dancing ropes. From a distance, it looked almost regal, as if he were the king of these living cords, watching them dance their fiercest dances for him, yet never daring to touch their sovereign.
Only when he'd fully passed through the trap did Allen finally exhale. Even he hadn't expected it to be so… extensive.
Maybe the witch who built this place had a thing for bondage. What else would explain this many ropes?
Still, after avoiding such a nasty trap, he could finally consider the dungeon's first stage complete. No loot. No EXP. Not even a skill unlock.
But he was out.
Breathing easier now, Allen took a few more steps and stepped into the light.
The sunlight didn't offer any real magical benefit, but after being in that pit for so long, he needed it. Not just to warm his body, but to cleanse his mind from the lingering filth, both physical and emotional.
Then he saw the source of the light.
It wasn't an exit to the outside, but a massive, ornate skylight, a glass-inlaid window in the ceiling through which sunlight poured like holy fire. The prison's exit had led straight to this place.
"Huh... I guess I reached a strategic point of the castle earlier than expected, even if the route was... unconventional," Allen muttered, leaning back against the wall and stretching lazily beneath the light.
Before diving into the next wave of danger, he figured he deserved five minutes to enjoy the sun.
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