Chapter 2 Chapter 2

The entire dungeon began to shake violently because of what they had done. Even after the path behind me collapsed, the tremors still continued rumbling through the walls and floor like an endless earthquake that refused to die down.

“So that’s how this turns out...”

I tightened my grip on my sword as I faced the Apostate Beast, my knuckles turning white from the pressure.

A bitter smile formed on my lips. I knew I couldn’t really blame them for running away and leaving me here. We weren’t even companions or allies in the first place. I was just an extra hand for their party for this particular quest, someone they could easily discard when things went wrong.

And when it came to a dangerous situation like this– of course I was the sacrificial pawn. That realization settled heavily in my chest, cold and familiar.

I assessed the situation again, thinking about my options carefully, trying to find even the smallest chance of survival in this nightmare.

My retreat path was completely blocked by tons of fallen rock and rubble. Running was no longer a choice. Facing this monstrosity was the only option left, even if it led to my death. The thought sent a chill running down my spine.

The Apostate Beast let out a huge, distorted roar that echoed through the collapsing dungeon, the sound so deep and unnatural it vibrated in my bones. Then it began moving toward me. Its movement was fast– far too fast for something of its massive size, defying everything logic said should be possible.

It lunged without hesitation, tearing through the already unstable dungeon floor and sending chunks of stone flying in every direction.

I quickly shifted into a defensive stance, muscles tensed and ready, but the constant trembling caused my footing to slip on the wet, broken ground. My body lagged behind my intended movement, leaving me vulnerable.

That was when I knew my fate was sealed.

But before the Apostate Beast could hit me, everything suddenly gave way. The dungeon floor collapsed completely, swallowing me into the depths in a chaotic storm of falling rock and dust.

Chunks of broken stone crashed around me, grazing my body with sharp edges. One large piece struck me hard in the back, knocking me unconscious as my vision faded rapidly into complete darkness.

Pain exploded through my back as I felt a wet sensation spreading beneath me…

“…I’m alive?”

My voice came out weak and raspy as I slowly regained consciousness, each word sending fresh waves of agony through my battered body.

Even through the pain, my mind was spinning, desperately trying to understand how I had survived that fall. It shouldn’t have been possible. The drop had been too far, the impact too severe.

I groaned loudly and forced myself to sit up, every muscle screaming in protest. My whole body ached like hell, especially my back and left shoulder. Still, I should be grateful I didn’t die. At least not yet.

I looked around and realized I had fallen into a much deeper section of the dungeon. The air here felt colder, heavier, and more oppressive. I had never heard that this dungeon had a water level, even a shallow one like this. It was supposed to only have ground layers according to all the maps and rumors I’d heard.

But this shallow water was what cushioned my fall. If it had been solid ground… I didn’t finish that dark thought. What mattered was that I was alive, breathing, and still somewhat conscious.

That was when I instantly remembered the Apostate Beast. That monster had fallen with me–

I reached for my sword instinctively, heart pounding with renewed fear.

My hand froze in mid-air.

My sword was gone. I couldn’t see it anywhere nearby no matter how hard I searched the dim surroundings. The Apostate Beast was also nowhere to be found, which brought both relief and new anxiety.

I didn’t care much about the monster if it was truly gone… But losing that sword hurt deeply. It was the one thing I had relied on for years. The only thing I trusted more than the constant reminder of how useless my sigil was. And now it was missing– or most likely destroyed by the falling stones earlier.

“Damn it!”

I clenched my fists tightly until my nails dug into my palms. Without a weapon, I was as good as dead down here. What could I possibly do with my useless sigil? The same question that had haunted me for years resurfaced stronger than ever.

But even if I felt hopeless and overwhelmed by despair, I knew I had to keep moving. I had made a promise to myself long ago– no matter what happened, I would not be useless. That promise was one of the few things I had left.

With that resolve burning quietly in my chest, I ignored the sharp pain in my body and pushed myself back onto my feet. With no sense of direction and almost no light, I simply started walking through the dark, wet corridors, hoping I would find an exit somewhere in this endless maze.

After what felt like an eternity of wandering through the suffocating darkness and cold water, I found something.

A corpse.

It looked like another adventurer who had died here long ago. His equipment was broken and useless, covered in rust and decay, but his bones were still intact and in relatively good condition.

I stared at the remains for a long moment, conflicted emotions swirling inside me.

It wasn’t an easy decision, but I swallowed hard, knelt beside the body, and offered a silent prayer for the dead man. Then I picked up several of the larger, sturdier bones, feeling their cold weight in my hands.

They felt cold and strange in my hands… but better than nothing. Empty hands meant certain death in a place like this.

“Imprint...”

A faint, hazy glow enveloped the bones. Slowly, the rough surface smoothed out. One end sharpened into a blade while the other formed into a proper hilt. In just a few seconds, the bone had taken the perfect shape and appearance of a sword.

But I knew the truth.

It was still just bone. Nothing about its actual strength or toughness had changed. My sigil could only alter the appearance– a mere illusion layered over reality. If I swung it like a real sword, it would probably shatter on the first solid impact.

The sigil that had been called worthless my entire life finally had a use… in its own pathetic way. It could only deceive my eyes and my mind. At least this way, I wouldn’t feel as disgusted holding it.

If only my Imprint could actually turn this into a real sword instead of just a mimicry illusion… My life wouldn’t have been such a disappointment to my family.