Chương 16: Refusing the Wrong Door

Accept Profession? [Y/N] Meno held the Ashen Crown Tail Spike in both hands and stared at the word Profession like it had asked him to get married. The side tunnel clicked softly around him. Red-orange veins pulsed through the glassy wall. Somewhere beyond the crack behind him, the Morgra road curved down toward the black pyramid, the stolen hoard, and a city full of enemies the UI refused to explain. Chat tried to turn his skull into a committee room.

ACCEPT one profession slot only take it idiot Meno's thumb hovered over Y. Then moved to N.

"Absolutely not." He clicked. [Profession Discovery Declined] The prompt vanished. For half a second, the chat looked empty because everyone had to process the size of the stupidity they believed they had witnessed. Then it came back worse. WHAT ACTUAL MORON NOOOOOOOOO you declined rare profession secret zone and he says no PrayerBeadBrain this is why BrineSaint wins Meno tucked the spike under one arm and checked the ore face again. The first Embervein Sliver sat safely in his inventory.

The exposed ingot still glowed in the wall, its inner fire moving like liquid through veins of metal.

"I don't care about professions," he said. rare III mats btw NO RESPEC KNOWN you need crafting"That's the point. One slot, permanent unless someone proves it wrong. And you want me to blow it on this rock because it flashed a prompt?" The chat boiled. Meno leaned closer to the ore. The heat from it brushed his face, dry and sharp. The Tail Spike pulsed faintly in his grip, warmer near the Apex Edge.

"I need a profession that helps me fight. Enchanting. Weapon tuning. Combat alchemy. Monster butchery if it gives me poison. Something that keeps me alive or makes things die faster. Mining-adjacent discovery treadmill is how I become the guy rich guilds hire to lick rocks while they clear bosses." it said elemental bodies awakened deposits that sounds combat useful YOU DON'T KNOW"Correct. I don't know.

Which is why I'm not locking a permanent slot while trapped under a dragon because chat saw the word Rare and started drooling." He rotated the Tail Spike and lined up the black-red edge with the cracked scar he had made in the ore.

"The warning says failed extraction may explode or awaken the source. That's profession text. If I don't take the profession, maybe I'm just hitting a rock with a dragon spike." that is not how warnings work awakening incoming science Venk has infected him Meno smiled. It was a small, mean thing.

"Chat, I love that you think I'm too dumb to evaluate risk after watching me get launched into a volcano." EXACTLY THAT this is not the defense you think clip this before crater He raised the spike, the side tunnel going quiet around him, then brought it down on the exposed ingot. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. The first impact rang deep through the wall, cleaner than a sword on stone, and a bright crack split through the metal face.

For one beautiful fraction of a second, he thought he'd been right. Then the wall cracked wide. The Embervein deposit detonated. Fire, metal, and glassy stone punched outward in a white-orange burst that erased the tunnel, the ore, Meno's health bar, and any argument he had prepared. The shock traveled through the passage and out into the main cavern with enough force to shake the road from the mountain wall. [Death | Environmental Hazard] [Dropped: Useless Festival Token x1] The system did not stop there.

[Environmental Kill: Cinder Hound] [Environmental Kill: Morgra Glasswalker] [Environmental Kill: Morgra Glasswalker] [Reduced XP Awarded: Hazard Trigger Contribution] [Level Up | Level 16] [Level Up | Level 17] Meno respawned on the Ashen Crown Shrine stone with red light flickering under his hands. The dragon lay in the cavern beyond the alcove, one molten eye half-open and bored. It had heard the explosion. It had chosen to treat the event as beneath its notice. The Tail Spike was still in Meno's grip.

He stared at it. The system had not counted it as a recognized weapon for Swing Master, but it had kept it equipped as a usable tool. Dragon material. Elemental cutter. Expensive mistake. Whatever category the UI used, it had not dropped on death. That mattered more than dignity. Chat found him again. HE WAS RIGHT WRONG hazard XP he killed patrol please never listen to him Meno sat up slowly.

"Reduced XP," he said. His voice sounded rough even to himself. He checked his inventory. The Tail Spike remained equipped in a tool slot-like position, hot and solid. The Embervein Sliver remained. The Epic III claw materials remained. He had lost one useless festival token, which felt like a bargain the system would invoice later. No new profession. Two levels. Meno closed the panel before greed could make him look too happy.

"Okay," he said.

"Data." DATA??? you exploded The dragon's eye followed him when he stood. It said nothing. The tribute pile of relic refuse still sat near its foreclaw, ugly and sacred in the worst possible way. The passage behind the vanished lavafall remained open, black stairs descending into red crystal light. Meno took the stairs again. His legs wanted speed. His brain forced caution. The explosion had leveled him twice, which meant the enemies below were absurdly out of his bracket.

It also meant the room had reacted loudly enough that anything intelligent would now be looking for the idiot who had turned a side tunnel into a weapon. At the ledge over the Morgra hollow, the damage was visible from far away. The side passage he had entered was gone. A section of the spiral road had collapsed with it, bitten out of the mountain wall in a jagged crescent. Broken black stone still fell in little clicks, dropping through the red-lit air toward the depths.

Far below, where the patrol must have landed, tiny loot glints marked bodies or pieces of bodies on a lower shelf. Inaccessible. Meno squinted over the edge. The Cinder Hound's loot marker sat near a broken stairway three loops down. One Morgra drop had fallen even farther, caught beside a fire channel near the base of the cavern. Another glinted near the treasure pile, practically under the eyes of half the city.

"Loot down there," he said.

"Naturally." go get it absolutely no drops are bait hazard kill loot tax He did not go get it. Below, the Morgra city had changed. The clicking had multiplied. Heat pulses moved through the cavern in warning patterns, brightening lines along bridges and tower ribs. A large contingent of Morgra started ascending the spiral road from lower tiers, maybe twelve, maybe more, their black-glass bodies catching the red light as they climbed. Cinder Hounds ran ahead, noses low, coal ribs flaring.

Meno stepped back from the ledge.

"Alert state," he muttered. The main road ahead led down toward them. The destroyed side passage behind him was gone. Going back to the dragon solved nothing except giving chat a better angle on him admitting he had made the mountain angry. A smaller side crack opened earlier along the curve, before the destroyed section. He had passed it on the first descent because it looked too tight and unpromising. He ran, the Tail Spike making every step awkward, but it cut elemental matter, and that was enough.

The first Cinder Hound appeared around the bend below, still far but climbing fast. Its eyeless head lifted. Fire flared between its ribs. Meno ducked into the side crack. The passage scraped his shoulders and forced him sideways. Red crystals grew along one wall in brittle fans. The floor slanted down, then leveled into a narrow crawl-like tunnel with enough height for a crouch. Heat followed him in a thin wave, and the first hound's claws clicked past the entrance seconds later. It paused outside.

Meno held still with the Tail Spike braced across his knees. His heart hammered hard enough to make the haptic rig echo it. The hound sniffed once. Its ribs pulsed. A Morgra clicked farther down the road, sharp and commanding. Meno waited until the sound faded, then let his back press against the wall. Two levels from a stupid explosion. He looked deeper into the narrow passage. The crystals there pulsed faintly, and past them, the tunnel bent out of sight. Maybe it was a dead end. Maybe it led to another ore seam.

Normal fighting was a no go. His class needed recognized weapons, valid targets, and time. The spike gave him a different route, uglier and less controllable. If another ore deposit could break the terrain, kill patrols, or open paths, that might be the only scaling tool he had down here. The thought was terrible. It was also the only one making numbers move. Meno started deeper into the crack, keeping his steps quiet and his eyes on the walls.

"New plan," he whispered.

"Find another rock that hates everyone."