In that instant, Brock actually considered taking a step forward and simply dying in the lava.
But in the end, he stopped.
He turned around and looked back at the path he had traveled.
Since this was a dead end, at worst, he would just walk back.
He refused to die here. He wanted revenge; he wanted to expose Captain Thorin’s true colors. He absolutely would not let those self-righteous, high-and-mighty conspirators continue to look down on him.
It had been a downhill slope all the way here.
But to go back, he would have to climb the entire way, which would take much longer and force him to endure even more of the blistering heat.
In Brock’s current state, it was a path of certain death.
Brock didn’t make it very far on his return journey before he collapsed to the ground.
His heavy consciousness could no longer drag his broken body forward.
He could only feel his body sinking into a deeper and deeper darkness amidst the furnace-like heat.
In the final second before losing consciousness, Brock thought he saw a figure approaching.
Was it a hallucination?
How could there be anyone in a place like this?
...
In a near-death dream, Brock saw a giant dragon.
The dragon was perched atop a high mountain peak, its massive head looking down. Its eyes were like gemstones as it gazed at the scenery below the precipice.
The dragon had purple scales that reflected the pure light of the moon.
Clouds and mist drifted around the dragon like a curtain.
The mere presence of the dragon on that mountain exerted a pressure that made it impossible for Brock, looking up from below, to straighten his back.
It wasn’t dragon fear, but simply the sheer pressure of its mana.
This dragon was like an incarnation of mana. Its mere existence caused the mana from its body to suppress and distort the surrounding space, attraction, and gravity.
What an immense amount of mana that was.
Brock lay on the ground, feeling his body grow heavier and heavier until he was crawling on the floor, crushed by the weight of that mana.
The pain caused Brock to snap his eyes open.
“Was it... a dream?”
Brock breathed a sigh of relief, but then he recalled everything that had happened before he fainted.
None of that was a dream!
I’m still alive!
Brock tried to get up, only to find he couldn't move. He forced his head up to look at his body.
He realized he was wrapped up like a mummy, with half of his chest stabilized by a plaster cast.
It seemed he had been saved.
But in that environment, how could there have been anyone else besides himself?
Who was it that saved him?
Brock hurriedly looked around and discovered a strange being sitting beside him.
The stranger’s skin was deep purple, and his frame was a size taller and much more robust than a human's.
He had no hair, only purple skin, and possessed four thick arms.
Several eyes were scattered haphazardly across his head, and one of the eyes on the side seemed to notice Brock.
A monster! A purple-skinned blacksmith!
Brock recognized him instantly, and the purple-skinned blacksmith, sensing that Brock was awake, turned around.
“What a reckless human. To think you’d dare walk the lava mining tunnel with that level of fire resistance.”
“It’s a miracle you weren’t burned to death.”
Being looked down upon by a monster stirred a strange emotion in Brock.
Had he really been saved by a purple-skinned blacksmith?
Even though the purple-skinned blacksmith was an intelligent monster, the fact that he would actually step in to save a human was unexpected.
It didn’t feel real to Brock.
To think there were monsters like this in the Well of Eternal Imprisonment.
As he explored this dungeon, its unique nature was becoming more and more apparent.
Just what kind of dungeon was this...
“Thank you for saving me.”
Regardless, he accepted it and offered his thanks.
“Human, how did you find the location of the lava mining tunnel? This is a hidden passage; you couldn’t have found it without a map,” the purple-skinned blacksmith asked, two arms crossed while the other two fiddled with delicate metal parts.
“A monster merchant gave me the map...”
Facing his savior, Brock didn't hide anything. He explained how he had saved a monster merchant and received the map in return.
“I see. Sometimes monster merchants do use this mining tunnel.” The purple-skinned blacksmith nodded with a look of realization.
“Does this lava mining tunnel really lead to the twelfth floor?” Brock asked urgently.
“It does, but an accident happened in the lava mining tunnel recently, and the passage is blocked.”
“Blocked? Is there no way to clear it?”
The purple-skinned blacksmith sighed.
“The lava mining tunnel was once a large mineral vein. After it was hollowed out, it formed a path connecting to the twelfth floor.”
“However, a disturbance in the Forbidden Fire caused the flow of the lava river on the eleventh floor to change.”
“A branch of the lava river flowed directly into the mining tunnel. It didn't just block the path; it also melted the seal on the residual Forbidden Fire.”
“As a result, a section of the lava mining tunnel is covered in Forbidden Fire and lava, making it impassable.”
Forbidden Fire?
A seal on the residual Forbidden Fire?
Brock’s breath hitched, and he began to cough violently. It took him a while to catch his breath.
“Can the seal on the residual Forbidden Fire be restored?”
The purple-skinned blacksmith looked at Brock.
“Why do you think I saved you?”
“You have the Forbidden Fire Blessing on you. I hope you can go and repair the seal of the Forbidden Fire, or find a way to clear the residual Forbidden Fire so the lava mining tunnel can be used again.”
The residual Forbidden Fire.
Since Brock had already obtained the Forbidden Fire Blessing, he naturally wanted to get his hands on this residual Forbidden Fire.
However, he didn't have a Forbidden Fire Container. Even if the residual Forbidden Fire was right in front of him, he could only stare at it helplessly.
The purple-skinned blacksmith brought over a purple potion.
It looked like it had been brewed from some unrecognizable materials.
If this were alchemy, those materials could have been processed into an alchemical potion.
But the purple-skinned blacksmith didn't know alchemy; he had simply boiled the materials in a pot, resulting in a low-quality recovery potion.
Brock pinched his nose and drank the potion.
Compared to the visible healing effects of an alchemical potion, the effects of this low-quality potion were very slow. Brock could only feel an itching sensation across his skin.
Full-body burns, a severe shoulder injury.
Brock reached out with his right arm, which he could still move.
“Where are my monster cards?”
His mana had mostly recovered. If he used the healing effect of the wood armor monster, he should be able to recover faster.
“Your equipment is over there.”
The purple-skinned blacksmith pointed to a pile of gear beside Brock.
Brock sighed in relief and struggled to dig out the [Wood Armor Monster], activating the card with his Summoning Blessing Mark.
A ball of vines was summoned, landing on Brock’s chest and growing rapidly until it covered his entire body.
Mana began to be steadily absorbed by the wood armor monster, and Brock’s injuries began to heal bit by bit under its treatment.
Brock let out a long breath.
There was a reason why the wood armor monster was one of the most precious and rare cards in the Well of Eternal Imprisonment.
“It looks like you’ll recover sooner than expected.”
“Good. I’ll start by explaining the situation with the seal.”
“The seal of the residual Forbidden Fire is an unfinished greatsword blank...”
Rate on N.U.
