Wade's shop had just opened for business. But now, the perspective shifts elsewhere.
The Raid Party—the very symbol of strength.
Usually made up of elite adventurers, they represented the cutting edge of combat power. When a dungeon forced adventurers to form a raid party, it was proof of just how terrifying that dungeon truly was.
The raid party assembled for the Sein Dungeon was led by "Lion" Leon, with mbers including "Silver Cat" Maru, "Black Fist" Bedan, "Ironblood" Terl, and "Bedrock" Drew.
The adventurers of Bedford City placed all their hopes on them, praying the party would storm in, cut down every monster, and avenge the countless lives already lost.
Leon, the handso, dashing leader, was especially adored. To many, he was nothing short of a dreamboat.
Whenever asked when his raid party would officially attack the dungeon, he would always flash that radiant, confident smile and reply there was no rush. Once they made their move, he promised, they'd clear the dungeon in a single day and vent everyone's anger in one stroke.
That sunlit smile never failed to sway the masses. People believed in him wholeheartedly. To them, this man was invincible.
But the reality was…
"Boss, we can't find our way back anymore, nya… what do we do?"
Maru, filthy and exhausted, lay sprawled across the branch of a tree, her tail drooping as if all her energy had drained away.
Leon—the so-called dreamboat of countless won—sat cross-legged at the base of the tree, face dark, lips pressed into silence.
His once gleaming silver armor was missing several pieces, lost during their desperate retreat. And since teleport crystals didn't bring dropped equipnt, that expensive armor was gone for good.
Terl lay sprawled on the grass, drenched in sweat, while Drew wasn't faring much better.
"Where the hell are we…?" Maru groaned. "Why is it nothing but forest!?"
Zooming out, their predicant beca clear: an endless stretch of lush greenery in every direction. Forest as far as the eye could see, so vivid it made their vision sharpen painfully if they stared too long.
"I'd heard treasure chests could be traps," Terl rumbled, voice heavy with regret. "But I never thought it'd be that one…"
"Mixing a trapped chest in with two real ones—who even cos up with that kind of diabolic design!?" Drew slamd a fist into the dirt. "The first two were fine, so who the hell would ever suspect the third!? Shit, shit, shit!!"
Publicly, they had claid they were still "resting up," that they hadn't yet entered the dungeon. The truth? This was already their second run.
Forget the bravado about clearing it in a single attempt—behind the scenes, it was all practice, just like honor students swearing they never studied.
They had gathered intel from countless adventurers, making the swamp zone a breeze. But once they reached Blighttown, their progress slowed to a crawl. They were forced to inch forward, step by cautious step.
That was where most adventurers stalled out. None had fully explored Blighttown, and none had discovered the bonfire.
But the raid party? On their first visit to the Blighttown, they had pushed halfway through. An achievent far beyond ordinary adventurers, living up to their reputation.
Of course… mishaps happened.
The first ti, crossing a suspension bridge, Drew's magic had kept the arrow-firing monsters at bay. But one half-dead straggler managed to cut the rope.
The party's response was unanimous: "Fuck!!!"
The second ti, they avoided the bridge entirely, taking a detour through rows of ruined houses.
Every house could be entered without a fade-to-black load screen. Exploration itch: thoroughly satisfied.
But the houses were crawling with monsters—lurking by the door, behind the door, clinging to ceilings, hiding under floorboards, even stuffed inside broken cupboards.
And yet, the loot…
Spotting a glowing white light in the corner of a room was impossible to resist. Who wouldn't go in to check? Even if you knew it was a trap, you had to look.
They found weapons with combat skills, throwing knives, arrows, firebombs, and heaps of jewels and trinkets.
Though, oddly enough… the jewels looked suspiciously like the latest fashion accessories being sold back in the city.
Most of it was useless, but every now and then they stumbled upon sothing incredible.
Like the glowing skull—when thrown, it lured every nearby monster. More effective than most spells. A sha it was single-use, or they would've hoarded it for life.
Still, by now they knew glowing items almost always ant monsters nearby. Their routine was set: spot glow → search for monsters → kill monsters → collect loot. Easy.
That habit, however… was what dood them.
After defeating an elite sheep-headed monster and its pack of dogs, they found three treasure chests.
Battle rewards always followed victories. The area was clear. No danger.
So, without hesitation, they opened all three.
Next thing they knew… they were here.
The mid-layer region: Undead Burg.
"No matter which way we go, it looks the sa," Terl muttered. "Are we caught in so kind of illusion?"
"I think the forest itself is the trap," Drew said, pushing himself upright. "Bedan's been gone too long. He probably died out there. Guy's always reckless."
To cover their tracks, they had linked their teleport crystal to a priest's house they knew. That way, if they died, the priest could revive them privately—spare them the sha of reviving at the public house.
"At least he dared to scout," Maru said, swinging her legs idly. "? No thanks. Traps like this always dump you sowhere dangerous. I'm just a weak little girl, after all—I wouldn't dare wander off alone."
"Enough."
Leon, silent until now, finally stood. The instant he moved, everyone shut their mouths.
"Get up. I'm setting fire to the place." He drew out a scroll—Mid-tier Fla Storm!
"Whoa, boss, careful!"
Everyone scrambled back. Their leader had finally snapped. He was ready to use his ace-in-the-hole scroll.
Burn the mountain, rot in jail.
Leon began chanting. Sparks danced across the air, a swirling vortex of fla coiling into existence. If unleashed, it would reduce the entire forest to ash.
At that mont, sothing hidden in the surroundings finally stirred.
"Craaaashhh—"
The trees around them… stood up.
Not growing taller—standing.
Treants in disguise. No wonder they'd been trapped.
"So, you finally show yourselves."
Leon smirked. The forming flas winked out, revealing his right hand gripping his sword. A dense layer of wind pressure coiled around the blade.
Scrolls were expensive. No way he'd waste one. Better to use it as bait to draw the monsters out.
His sword alone could reduce them to splinters.
"Get down!" he roared, spinning on his heel. His strike swept outward, aiming to cleave through the encircling treants in one overwhelming blow.
A pure physical attack, raw force capable of crushing anything in his path.
"Woooooobbuffeeet!!!"
…What the hell was that noise?
Leon froze mid-swing. Among the treants stood a small blue creature, round and flimsy, like a fragile sli. It looked so weak that one casual swipe could kill it.
And yet… a bad feeling surged up in his gut.
Too late. His sword had already cut down—straight onto the Wobbuffet.
[Wild Wobbuffet used Counter!]
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