Chapter 52: Dungeon Break - Part 1

CLANG!

CLANG!

CLANG!

The emergency bell mounted high at the top of the nearby adventurer guild tower rang frantically.

The sharp metallic echoes reverberated off the stone walls of the street, cutting through the ambient noise like a jagged knife.

The entire locksmith guild hall went dead silent for two dreadful seconds. Glasses of ale were held suspended in midair, young men froze with their hands inside tool pouches, and even the tavern cook stopped scraping his greasy iron skillet.

Nobody moved, nobody breathed, and every single eye turned toward the heavy front entrance in absolute terror.

Suddenly, the quiet shattered as the front doors slammed open with a deafening bang.

"Emergency Quest! All Level 2 and above Locksmiths with an active Adventurer License assemble at the Western Wall immediately!" a guild staff member shouted at the top of his lungs, his face flushed red from running all the way from the main counter.

"Everyone! This is not a drill! Repeat, assemble at the Western Wall!"

The hall erupted into pure, unadulterated chaos. Wooden chairs clattered onto the floor as dozens of people scrambled to their feet at once.

Men screamed, women dropped their ale mugs, and everyone rushed toward the narrow doorway to retrieve their heavy tool belts and defense weapons.

Ignatius came sprinting back to my corner table, his old face drained of all color. He was holding the heavy iron axe he usually used to chop firewood back at our small house, his knuckles white from his tight grip on the wooden handle.

"It’s a Dungeon Break!" he yelled over the deafening noise of stomping boots and shouting men.

"A Dungeon Break?" I stood up from the wooden bench instantly, my eyes narrowing. "Which dungeon?"

"The West Subterranean Cave! It’s right outside the main residential area!" Ignatius gritted his teeth, his jaw tight with anger as he checked the head of his wood chopping axe. "Silvester, get back to your house and hide right now! The monsters are going to flood the streets within minutes!"

"Ignatius, wait" I started to say, reaching out my hand to grab his leather sleeve.

Before I could finish my sentence, the old man spun around and sprinted out of the hall with unbelievable speed, blending right into the panicked crowd of armed adventurers rushing toward the front gates.

I stood there for a second, genuinely shocked by how incredibly energetic that old man could become when real danger appeared.

For a guy who always complained about his aching lower back whenever he lifted heavy luggages on the noble house, he moved right now with the explosive agility of a frightened deer.

I did not run home to hide under my bed.

Instead of joining the screaming crowd of civilians fleeing toward the eastern district, I slipped through a side door leading out to a narrow, shadowed alleyway behind the guild building.

The air in the alley was cold and damp, smelling faintly of old trash, wet earth, and mossy brick.

I crouched behind a tall wooden crate and reached into my leather pouch. I pulled out a square piece of black cloth and tied it firmly around my face, covering everything from the bridge of my nose down to my chin.

Locksmith’s Eye.

I activated my primary skill, and a warm surge of golden mana flowed directly into my optic nerves.

The world around me shifted instantly. The dim grey alleyway faded, replaced by glowing streams of environmental energy, structural fault lines, and hidden mana nodes embedded inside the surrounding buildings.

I tilted my head back and looked up toward the cloudy sky directly over the Normal District.

My jaw tightened beneath my black mask.

A massive, violent surge of wild, unstable elemental mana was rising from the direction of the Western Wall like a crimson tide.

Thousands of subterranean beast cores were vibrating at once, creating a chaotic spatial distortion that made the cobblestone ground beneath my boots hum with dangerous energy.

However, what truly made my blood run absolute cold was not the terrifying presence of wild monster mana.

Hovering directly above the breach zone was a thick, unnatural cloud of pitch black mana threads.

The writhing strands looked like parasitic worms floating in the air, slowly weaving themselves into the atmospheric energy and raining down corrupted sparks onto the battle zone below.

It was those black threads that were driving thousands of subterranean beasts into an uncontrollable, suicidal frenzy.

"It’s happening again," I whispered into the quiet alleyway.

This was not a natural disaster caused by an overfilled dungeon core. It was the exact same artificial corruption I had witnessed at the warehouse and deep inside the frozen realm.

Whatever entity was operating behind the scenes had intentionally triggered another break, using the commoner residential area as their personal testing ground once more.

I jumped over the tall alley fence with a light push of mana against the ground, landing silently on the other side. Without a second thought, I sprinted straight toward the battle zone.

I moved like a shadow across the rooftops of the Normal District. My small eight year old body gave me a massive natural advantage when it came to stealth and mobility.

While heavy footed guards and heavily armored adventurers had to fight their way through crowded, panicked streets full of fleeing commoners, I simply leaped from one tiled roof to another with effortless grace.

Below me, the streets were in complete disarray. Mothers were crying out for their lost children, market stalls were completely overturned, and city guards were desperately trying to direct the frantic crowds toward the eastern safety shelters.

Within less than five minutes, I reached the edge of the perimeter right beside the massive Western Wall.

The scene was an absolute warzone.

The thick oak and iron reinforced gates had been completely shattered into splinters. Massive Ironclad Earth Bears, giant Trolls, and dozens of razor fanged Wolves were pouring through the gap like an unstoppable black river. The air was filled with the deafening sound of roaring beasts, clashing steel, and the desperate screams of wounded guards.

"Hold the line! Protect the civilian evacuation path at all costs!" an elite guard captain shouted, his steel sword flashing as he cut down a wolf.

Nearby, I spotted a familiar figure swinging a heavy wood chopping axe with wild, unrefined fury.