Beyond the practical, there were truths every adventurer knew about crack dungeons—truths whispered more than spoken, but always heeded. Unlike the dungeons made and blessed by gods where monsters respawned endlessly in fixed pattern like in video games, the cracks did not birth life anew. What was slain remained slain. But the weight of time worked differently within. If left untouched, the hours within could stretch into months, years, even centuries compared to the outside world in short amount of time. In that silence, monsters bred unchecked, multiplying until the dungeon seethed with life until eventually a dungeon break occurs. And among them, one creature always rose higher than the rest. That creature became the boss, thelord of the dungeon, master of its tide.

This time, the throne belonged to a wyvern. But should the creature fall, the dungeon would not remain empty. Another would rise in time—perhaps another wyvern if eggs had been hidden and left to grow strong, or perhaps something else entirely. The cycle would begin anew.

Treasure was the dungeon's other law. When a beast fell, its body dissolved into motes of fading light, leaving behind only what was deemed valuable: mana crystals, blood, scales, claws, or bones. Sometimes artifacts or weapons lay among the remains, they are rare and coveted as they can only be gained on the first raid of dungeon cracks. These were the dungeons' gifts, a lure as much as a curse. But the god blessed dungeons, or the artificial dungeon, the monster spawn again after a fixed time like a cycle and in pattern. They make it easy to strategise and hunt. But they have their own limitations, low experiences from monsters, after the kill, moster dissappear leaving only their drops like any of their body parts or mana crystals. Sometimes even a artifact or equipment...though they are rare but boss monster drops have them in more common.

And so, with every detail accounted for, the meeting dissolved. Chairs scraped against stone as adventurers rose, muttering to one another in low voices.

Ethan left the chamber with a faint smile tugging at his lips. The air outside tasted of smoke and iron. The city prepared for war, and so did he.

Another hunt awaited. That is another chance to rise higher.

Ethan stepped out of the council chamber. The heavy doors shut behind him with a dull thud, and waiting outside were the three—Lirael, Sylvie, and Seloria. Their eyes immediately sought him, a silent question hanging in the air.

He gave a short nod and began recounting the plan that had been agreed upon.

"The tide will hit the walls. The lower ranks will hold as long as they can. We'll cut our way through and make for the crack. Once there, we enter together—hand in hand. Inside, I'll summon my soldiers and grind as much experience as possible. The wyvern is the main goal. Xarion, the A-ranker will take the lead, but we'll strike when the opening comes. Lirael, Sylvie—you'll support us. Every monster we drop along the way, every piece of treasure, it all goes straight into my inventory. Nothing wasted."

Lirael's expression was calm, but her hand tightened slightly around her bow. Sylvie nodded fiercely, her determination almost childish, while Seloria tilted her head as if everything he said was foreign to her and went through her head and out.

"As for formation," Ethan continued, "Lirael and Sylvie will ride Seloria covering. I'll take Nyxfang and cut a path through the tide. Once inside, we stick together. No exceptions."

There were no objections. Only resolve.

With the plan sealed between them, they turned to preparations.

---

The city outside was chaos.

Streets once bustling with merchants and laughter now echoed with the clatter of boots, the snapping of shutters, and frantic shouts. Families hurried indoors, boarding windows and sealing doors as though wood and nails could keep out what was coming. Adventurers rushed between smithies and stalls, arms laden with weapons, armor, potions, and talismans. The tang of metal, the sharp stink of oil, and the underlying sourness of fear hung thick in the air.

Ethan led them toward a grocery shop, shouldering past panicked buyers. Inside, shelves were being stripped bare. He grabbed sacks of dried meat, hardtack, and flasks of water, enough to last them weeks if the dungeon raid stretched more then they expected. Lirael slipped away briefly, returning with a fresh bundle of arrows.

"Put them in your subspace," she said, handing them over. "I doubt I'll be able to retrieve any once the dungeon starts swallowing them whole."

Ethan tucked them away, then glanced at her bow. "You really should get one that generates arrows out of mana. Saves us the trouble."

Lirael gave him a look, half weary, half amused. "Do you have any idea how costly those are? The cheapest starts at a hundred gold."

Ethan smirked. "And? We've got that much. Besides, I don't mind spoiling my cute maid if it makes her happy."

Her only answer was a slow shake of her head. "You and your extravagance…" she muttered.

Ethan's grin widened, but in the back of his mind, his voice dropped into the silence only the System could hear.

'System, are there bows that generate arrows from mana? Ones equal to or stronger than normal arrows?'

The response came swift and cold:

> [System Response]

Recommended Bows:

– Stormpiercer [Cost: 1,200,000 gold] — Fires arrows of condensed lightning, each strike capable of piercing armor.

– Moonveil [Cost: 3,600,000 gold] — Mana constructs form radiant arrows with users elemental affinity with longer range and higher precision; arrows explode into crescent-shaped blasts on impact of more mana is used.

– Abyssfang [Cost: 7,500,000 gold] — Generates arrows of shadow that pierce defenses and drain vitality.

– Sunbreaker [Cost: 9,800,000 gold] — Fires blazing arrows that explode on impact, each blast stronger than a fireball spell. Higher mana cost. *Highly effective against Vampires*

Ethan chuckled under his breath as the figures scrolled across his vision. Looks like the cost keeps rising as I grow stronger. Like this I won't be able to buy shit later.

His lips curled into a wry grin, though he kept the thought to himself.

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