6kv Chapter 19: Ch 19: Recipee for Disaster- Part 3
Chapter 19: Ch 19: Recipee for Disaster- Part 3
Chapter 19 - Ch 19: Recipee for Disaster- Part 3The weekend arrived, and with it came a crisp morning sun that hung low in the sky as Fenrir made his way to the first dungeon on his list.
It was classified as an E-rank—low danger, low yield.
Perfect for what he needed.
His goal wasn't combat. It was gathering.
As soon as he entered, the scent of damp moss and thick earth enveloped him.
The dungeon had the appearance of a forest gone wild, with trees that curled like claws and underbrush thick enough to hide whole beasts.
Monstrous creatures wandered in the distance, their forms vague shadows moving between the trees. Fenrir ignored them.
This was a race against time since he needed to cover two dungeons in two days.
'It's all for gaining more time. Let's do this properly.'
He activated his system storage and began combing the area for the ingredients he needed.
His eyes scanned the terrain with practiced ease, refined instincts guiding him toward the rare herbs and fungi most wouldn't even recognize.
When he found them, he only picked the best. Anything less than perfect was a waste of space.
One by one, he gathered five of the six necessary ingredients.
Each time he retrieved one, the system pinged softly, recording the acquisition.
When the system storage filled up, Fenrir pulled out a secondary, expandable storage he had purchased just for this occasion—an enchanted pouch that could stretch its capacity far beyond its physical size.
With the swift efficiency of a professional, he began transferring his haul into it.
Only one ingredient remained. And it was the trickiest.
[Void Moss]
A delicate plant that grew not on the ground, but on the backs of a specific dungeon beast known as the Thornback Grazer.
It was highly valued in alchemy due to its energy-replenishing properties.
Unfortunately, harvesting it meant getting dangerously close to the creature without waking it—or worse, fighting it.
Fenrir crouched low and reached for his mana, weaving it with intent. His footfalls became lighter, shadows pulling around his steps.
The moment he moved, a chime echoed in his mind.
[New Skill Acquired: Shadow Step]
He froze for half a second.
'That was fast.'
The system had registered his maneuver and recognized it as a skill.
That confirmed a theory he had been forming—there were multiple ways to learn new skills and have them recorded by the system.
The obvious one was repetition: practicing a movement or technique until the system acknowledged it.
The second was understanding—knowing something so well that you could execute it without prior physical practice.
The third, he now confirmed, was innate talent. His divine blood likely gave him a free pass into the domain of rare and complex abilities.
'There may be more. I'll have to experiment.'
But this did point out one of the system's advantages. It told you when you had mastered a skill well enough to use it.
During his time, most people got injured when they used skills they did not understand how to use.
'At the same time, it does limit one in how much they can learn. I don't think people realize how the system works in terms of skills. And those that do know chose not to tell others.'
He mused as he edged closer to the monster den.
His divine heritage meant that his body wasn't bound by the same limits as mortals.
It had potential—if he guided it well, it could become something far beyond what anyone in this era had seen.
But all that could come later.
For now, he crouched by the edge of the moss-covered pit where the Thornback Grazers slumbered.
Their hulking bodies were covered in spiked shells, each curved with unnatural angles.
Clumps of shimmering Void Moss pulsed gently on their backs, glowing faintly in the dim light of the dungeon.
Fenrir focused his breath and entered the den.
The silence was suffocating.
Every movement had to be calculated, every step deliberate. The moment he sensed one of the grazers twitching, he froze like stone.
Shadow Step worked in his favor, muting his movements, but he didn't trust the system alone—not yet.
It took twenty agonizing minutes to harvest enough Void Moss.
Each time he reached out, he used a small, enchanted blade to gently scrape the plant from the creature's back and transfer it into a sealed container. His fingers never trembled.
Once the final sample was secured, Fenrir turned and melted back into the shadows, retracing his steps out of the den without incident.
The moment he stepped into the safety of the outer dungeon, he let out a slow breath. His heart beat steady. No adrenaline, no fear.
Just the satisfaction of a mission well-executed.
After completing his haul from the first dungeon, Fenrir found a quiet clearing outside and settled against a rock to rest.
He didn't need long—just a few hours to let his energy return and give his body a brief break.
With the first five ingredients in his possession, all that remained was one final plant, found only in the second dungeon on his list.
By late afternoon, he entered the second dungeon.
This one was far more crowded.
Unlike the secluded forest-like dungeon from earlier, this one resembled an underground cavern, with jagged rock formations and glowing crystals that lit the space in eerie hues.
Adventurers moved in groups, voices echoing off the walls as spells flared and swords clashed against creatures.
Fenrir's brows furrowed. This place was chaotic—too chaotic for someone trying to quietly harvest ingredients.
Every corner he turned, someone was already there or watching him. Finding a quiet spot was next to impossible.
He crouched near a jagged cliff wall, eyes narrowed as he
"I don't have a combat system. I thought you didn't expect anything from someone like me."
His voice was level, but the mockery underneath it was unmistakable.
They stared at him, furious and humiliated, but said nothing more.
Other adventurers were nearby, watching with curious eyes. Causing a scene would only make them look worse.
The party leader forced a smile, her face twitching.
"Right. Our mistake."
Fenrir gave a lazy wave.
"No hard feelings."
He turned and walked away without another glance, his pouch now filled with all the ingredients he needed.
It was a good reminder—people in this world were just as opportunistic and twisted as they had always been.
And just like before, the only person he could truly trust was himself.