[Chapter 282. The Fog]

With the harness sitting comfortably on his chest, he turned left and right, viewing himself through the perspective of his drone. Nodding in approval, he repeated the process with another needle. The cracked and brittle leather became pristine once again—supple and dark—while the metal covering most of it transformed from a dull matte to a steely, shiny finish that reflected the turquoise light in mesmerizing patterns.

He stored the repaired pieces in his ring and swapped them out for his current gear, the old boots feeling crude and clumsy by comparison. These new boots embraced his feet perfectly, the soles gripping the dusty floor with surprising tenacity. They were far more comfortable than his old pair and featured articulated plating that moved with his ankles rather than against them.

"Yup. This will take some time," he muttered, looking over the storage room. His gaze swept across the countless weapons and armor pieces still waiting for restoration. The room stretched before him like an untapped gold mine, each dusty rack and shelf holding potential value beyond measure.

He dismissed half of his drones to preserve his TP while he repaired the items one piece at a time. The violet lenses of the remaining machines tracked his movements as he worked with methodical precision. It took him nearly two hours to stab each item with a needle before storing it inside his ring. In total, he had spent close to one hundred thirty repair kits for roughly eighty full sets of armor and two hundred weapons, consisting of swords, bows, axes, and polearms. The repetitive motion of piercing, watching the blue glow spread, and hearing the satisfying crackle of newly restored metal became almost meditative.

When he was finally done, he stood in the empty room. The shelves were cleared out, the racks stood bare, and the crates held only their old, brittle packing material. The transformation was stark—where there had been a treasure trove of decay, now only dust and shadows remained.

Fully decked out in a set of the restored armor, he barely recognized himself. Armored gauntlets went halfway up his forearms, their articulated fingers moving with his own as if they were a natural extension of his body. The leather pants, reinforced with plated fastenings in the front but left bare in the back, were strangely comfortable, allowing flexibility while still protecting vital areas. A cuirass sat securely on his chest, its polished surface bearing the same intricate patterns it had before adapting to his form, guarding his vital organs and shoulders. And to top it all off, the animal-skull like helmet rested in his hands, its horns gleaming menacingly in the dim light.

From the drone's detached perspective, he looked like some kind of tribal warrior from a forgotten age—a primal hunter clad in articulated plates that bore the likenesses of beasts and ancient symbols. The skull helmet, now restored to its terrifying glory, sat in his hands, its hollow eye sockets seeming to watch him with silent judgment. He rotated the drone slowly, examining his reflection from every angle. The armor moved with him as if it were living flesh, each plate shifting subtly as he tested his range of motion. The polished metal caught the dim turquoise light, casting dancing shadows across the chamber walls. He looked formidable, dangerous—a being native to this dungeon rather than an intruder.

A chuckle escaped his lips as he dismissed the drone and stored the entire armor set back in his ring with a thought. His regular gear materialized around him in a flash of blue light, the familiar weight settling over his shoulders like an old, comfortable coat.

"That solves my gear problem. Can't believe that actually fucking worked."

With the room now empty, its contents safely stowed in his ring, he made his way back to the corridor, summoning his full complement of drones once more. The low hum of their mechanisms filled the silence as he walked down the weathered hallway. He passed through a section where light from the magical crystals penetrated the thin layer of mist that clung to the floor like a living carpet.

Ahead, where a light source should have been, there was only a wall of impenetrable grey fog that filled the corridor from floor to ceiling. He could not see through it, but what he could discern was that the fog was unnaturally stationary. It did not bleed or diffuse into the surrounding air, as if held at bay by an invisible, unnatural force.

To his right, an archway led into another corridor, from which he could hear the distinct clicking of claws and guttural chittering. But his attention was drawn back to the fog wall, his curiosity temporarily outweighing his caution. After ensuring there were no immediate threats near the archway, he sent one of his drones ahead. The machine's lens gleamed as it plunged into the dense mist, disappearing from view for several moments before emerging on the other side. Through the drone's visual feed, he could see that the corridor continued beyond the fog, though he could just barely make out moving forms in the murky distance.

Searanox stepped forward. The moment his boot vanished into the fog, a primal instinct screamed at him. His gut twisted violently. Without hesitation, he jumped backward into the safety of the glowing crystal's light, his heart hammering against his ribs. But nothing emerged from the fog. No beast lunged out, no trap sprang. His drone, still transmitting from the other side, encountered no threats.

`I don't like it. Something is off with that fog. Just like the darkness in the Corpse Lantern Cave...`

The thought slithered through his mind like an ice-cold serpent. The fog wasn't natural; it didn't swirl or dissipate like mist should. It maintained its shape with an unnerving rigidity—a solid wall of grey. His stomach churned with a visceral memory of the Corpse Lantern Cave, where stepping into the darkness had meant certain death for those who weren't prepared. This felt exactly the same, an innate wrongness that prickled at the edges of his survival instincts.

With that thought, he reached for a nearby glowing rock fixed to the wall in an iron clasp. He pulled at it with all his strength, but it didn't budge even a millimeter. He stopped pulling when he got the distinct feeling that the entire wall would move before the stone came free. It felt fused to the dungeon itself, as if it had grown there rather than been placed.

`Maybe not exactly like the Corpse Lantern Cave. Still... probably best not to step into the fog.`

He looked toward the adjacent hallway and called back the drone he had sent through the fog. With his swarm back at his side, he walked on. The new corridor opened into a multi-layered hall with indoor balconies running along the upper floor.

The moment he crossed the threshold, four iron-tipped bolts slammed against his drones barrier. Up on the balconies, small creatures—perhaps half his size, maybe slightly taller—had just fired heavy crossbow bolts at him.

A heartbeat later, there was a grunting snarl, followed by others, as a pack of armored beasts rushed into the open space below. They were covered in coarse fur and walked with a slight hunch, but their coordinated movements told him this would be another fight against enemies that utilized actual tactics. He was proven right when the first salvo from his drones was completely blocked by a vanguard holding a heavy-looking shields. The defensive bulwarks looked massive in comparison to their wielders small frames.

His offensive drones fanned out behind the multi-layered barrier generated by his two defensive drones, which had just combined their projections into a slightly curved wall. The barrier shimmered with faint blue energy, its surface rippling as more crossbow bolts impacted against it. These small creatures didn't create a magical barrier like the Salamanders in the Molten Core had, but they were quick and fluid in their movements. Their massive shields glowed with a soft, pale white light, reflecting the incoming plasma beams rather than simply absorbing or displacing them.

The shields themselves were large enough to cover the gnoll-like creatures entirely, their surfaces etched with intricate runes that pulsed with each reflected shot. While the vanguard blocked his beams, the crossbowmen on the upper floor continued to rain projectiles down against his barrier. The bolts clanged against the energy field with heavy metallic thuds as over a dozen more creatures armed with swords and spears rushed in behind the shield-bearers.

However, Searanox's drones picked off the snipers on the upper floor without much problem. Bypassing the shields below, the beams angled upwards and struck true; each shot found its mark with surgical precision, dropping the crossbowmen where they stood. Their bodies twitched once before going still.

Down on the ground, the infantry reached him and ran straight into his barrier, their momentum carrying them forward in a desperate charge. Their feral eyes were locked directly onto Searanox behind the energy shield.

`Not very smart.`

Searanox thought this as he watched them smash face-first into the glowing wall. Their expressions froze in a mixture of surprise and pain as they bounced off, their weapons clattering to the stone floor. In the next moment, six of them were cut down by the drones beams before they could even recover from the impact. Their bodies collapsed in lifeless heaps, their fur quickly matting with dark blood.