Chapter 60: City Lord Tibran

Chapter 60: Chapter 60: City Lord Tibran

Eventually, the surviving adventurers began making their way back toward the entrance.

There had been thirty adventurers when they first entered the dungeon.

Only ten remained.

The survivors were not necessarily the strongest among those who had entered. In fact, many of the strongest groups had been the first to venture deeper, believing that their abilities would allow them to overcome anything the dungeon threw at them.

Those groups had paid the highest price. The adventurers who survived were mostly the ones who had been cautious, avoided suspicious paths, refused to investigate areas that looked too dangerous, and immediately retreated whenever they sensed something was beyond their ability to handle.

Among them was a young woman who walked alone.

She had entered the dungeon with a group of five.

Now, she was the only one left.

Her clothes were torn, her armor was covered in scratches, and one of her arms was wrapped tightly with a strip of cloth to stop the bleeding.

She carried a small bag filled with the materials she had collected along the way, and although the weight wasn’t much, she held onto it tightly as if it were the most valuable thing in the world.

She glanced behind her as she walked.

The corridor was empty. Still, she didn’t relax.

She had already learned that silence inside this dungeon did not mean safety.

"Just a little farther..."

She whispered to herself. She had no intention of exploring anymore. She had seen enough.

Whatever treasures remained deeper inside could belong to someone else.

Her only goal now was to leave the dungeon alive.

After several more minutes of cautious travel, the adventurers finally saw the familiar passage leading back toward the entrance.

A group of three got out first, they simply stared ahead.

Then one of them let out a long breath.

"We’re finally getting out."

Another adventurer laughed weakly.

"I never thought I’d be this happy to see an entrance."

The others nodded.

Nobody wanted to admit how frightened they had been.

But their exhausted expressions said enough.

----

Ragnar watched the final adventurers disappear from the magical projection.

He remained seated upon his obsidian throne, his massive four-meter-tall demonic body resting comfortably against the backrest. His crimson eyes remained fixed on the projection for several seconds before he finally leaned back.

Thirty adventurers had entered, and only ten had survived.

And despite the casualties, Ragnar couldn’t help but smile.

[Soul Points: 37]

The number appeared before him.

"Thirty-seven."

Ragnar nodded with satisfaction.

"It isn’t fifty, but it’s still a pretty good harvest."

He had initially hoped that the expedition would provide enough Soul Points to immediately purchase the second floor. Unfortunately, the survivors had escaped before he could reach that number.

Still, he wasn’t disappointed.

Thirty-seven Soul Points from a single expedition was far better than what he had been earning before.

More importantly, the dungeon had accomplished exactly what Ragnar wanted.

The survivors would undoubtedly spread stories about what they had encountered.

That meant more adventurers would eventually come.

Ragnar’s smile widened.

"Then there’s no reason to waste these Soul Points."

He opened the dungeon management interface.

Several options appeared before him, but only one he need.

[Dungeon Restoration]

[Cost: 5 Soul Points]

[Restore damaged dungeon structures, defeated monsters, consumed treasures, and destroyed traps.]

Ragnar selected the option.

"Restore."

The moment he confirmed his choice, five Soul Points disappeared.

[Soul Points: 32]

Then the dungeon began to change. At first, nothing seemed to happen.

Then a strange ripple passed through the dungeon.

It started from the deepest areas and spread outward like an invisible wave.

Inside the spider nest, the remains of dead spiders suddenly began to dissolve into particles of dark energy. The bloodstains left behind by the adventurers vanished from the stone floor. Broken pieces of webbing lifted into the air and returned to their original positions, weaving themselves together as if time itself were reversing.

A moment later, the spider nest looked exactly as it had before the adventurers entered.

The destroyed traps were restored next.

A pressure plate that had been smashed beneath an adventurer’s attack slowly reassembled itself. The cracked stone beneath it fused together, the mechanism hidden beneath the floor returning to perfect condition.

Elsewhere, a collapsed section of the dungeon began rebuilding itself.

Broken stones rose from the ground.

Cracks disappeared.

The floor reconstructed itself piece by piece until there was no trace of the damage left behind by the adventurers.

A pit trap that had already been triggered closed again.

The stones that had fallen from the ceiling rose into the air and returned to their original positions. The mechanism responsible for dropping them reset itself, ready to activate the next time someone stepped on the hidden pressure plate.

Even the walls that had been damaged during the battles repaired themselves.

Ragnar watched the process through his dungeon view, his eyes widening slightly.

"This is convenient."

He continued watching. The monsters were restored as well.

[Dungeon Restoration Complete.]

[All damaged structures have been restored.]

[All defeated monsters have been restored.]

[All destroyed traps have been restored.]

[All consumed or removed dungeon treasures have been restored.]

Ragnar closed the system window.

[Soul Points: 32]

----

Lufast City was one of the larger cities in the region, protected by thick stone walls and a large number of soldiers and adventurers. The city was also responsible for overseeing several smaller towns and settlements in the surrounding territory, including Hetin Town.

Inside the City Lord’s residence, City Lord Tibran sat behind a large wooden desk while carefully reading through a report that had arrived from Hetin.

He was a broad-shouldered man in his fifties, with streaks of gray running through his dark hair. Despite his age, his eyes remained sharp, and years of managing the city had given him a calm and experienced demeanor.

He slowly turned another page.

"An unexplored dungeon..."

His eyes moved across the report.

"Located near Hetin Town."

He continued reading.

The dungeon had already attracted several groups of adventurers despite the mayor of Hetin attempting to restrict access. Multiple groups had entered, and although there had been casualties, survivors had returned carrying valuable monster materials and treasures.

Most importantly, one group had returned with an enchanted sword.

Tibran’s expression gradually changed.

A smile appeared on his face.

Then that smile became wider.

"Possible Tier 2..."

He leaned back in his chair.

A dungeon’s rank was extremely important.

The higher the rank, the greater the potential danger, but the greater the potential benefits as well.