That's right, that's what adventure is like!

"It's all because of that damn key!"

Torger, full of grievances and completely unaware that he had already given himself away, complained mercilessly about his employer: "Saying it was a commission was just a pretense. Once we got into the dungeon, we found out the key was still in the hands of the kobolds!"

key……

Roland narrowed his eyes, memorizing the information. He then made a couple more subtle inquiries, but whenever the core issue was touched upon, Torger would immediately become alert and change the subject to avoid arousing suspicion.

With his deliberate cooperation, the two actually got along quite well, and this strangely harmonious atmosphere continued until they arrived at the location marked on the mission sheet.

"This should be it."

A crooked crack appeared in the wall in front of them, from which a faint stream of air seeped out, bringing a warmth that seemed out of place in the underground city.

After comparing the picture on the order form with the actual picture, Roland confirmed that everything was correct and then signaled to Torg to break down the wall, while he himself took a half step back.

when--

The axe blade struck the hard rock wall, but only left shallow white scratches, failing to widen the crack in the slightest. This, however, only fueled the orc's savagery.

"Damn it, watch this!"

With a bloodthirsty glint in his eyes, Torger's arm muscles bulged, and a powerful force stirred up a vortex of air, accompanied by a fleeting, enormous afterimage, as he slammed his metal axe down fiercely once more!

boom!

Pebbles flew everywhere, accompanied by a sharp whistling sound, passing by our ears before crashing into the wall.

However, only a two-finger-deep axe mark remained on the stone wall, far from being broken.

"That's enough," Roland said, having clearly assessed Torg's maximum combat strength, and stopped him in time. "No need to waste energy, we'll just use the Black Ember to break through."

"Damn it, how come I didn't think of that!"

Torg reluctantly withdrew his axe and followed Roland away, watching him throw flaming pebbles several times in succession.

boom--

boom--

Accumulation, ignition, explosion.

The already structurally damaged rock wall could no longer withstand the continuous roar and finally collapsed, revealing the wide space hidden behind it.

"Cough cough... Pfft!"

Black ashes mixed with dust spread out, causing Torg, who was chewing on jerky, to take two big bites. After fanning it away with his palm, he stared blankly at the scene behind him.

It turned out to be a place that resembled a plantation.

A heavy, complex fishy smell permeated the air, somewhat like a mixture of various body odors. The space was exceptionally open, with a dome hanging high above, from which clusters of pale, cold, fluorescent moss hung down, illuminating the "nursery" below.

The ground was no longer rock, but a thick layer of dark brown soil, as if it had been finely tilled, with rows of dark fleshy growths on it, covered by a translucent, tough film, and with shadowy figures that could be vaguely seen moving around.

Roland stepped into the nursery, covered the gap behind him with strips of cloth to prevent the gathering black embers from causing an explosion, and then squatted down to look at the nearest tumor.

The shadowy figures inside had human-like bodies, but were curled up like fetuses in the womb. The most striking features were their nascent sharp teeth and claws.

"It's a monster," Roland's gaze swept over the dark red pipe inserted into the soil between the tumors, noticing that the liquid inside still had a slightly viscous texture, and he quickly made a judgment, "This should be the monster hatchery in the dungeon."

"W-what kind of venue?"

Torg clearly didn't understand the description from another world, but Roland had already examined more than a dozen tumors nearby, using the different shapes of shadows inside to corroborate his judgment.

"The Black Ash Dungeon is man-made, and monsters must be constantly replenished. This is where the dungeon lord hatches monsters."

This realization made Torg's eyes widen. He scratched the pointed horn on his head and muttered, "So that's how it is. No wonder monsters keep spawning in this dungeon for decades."

"Wait, let me take another look—something's definitely not right."

Roland used his longsword to cut open a fleshy tumor and carefully examined the monster embryo soaking in the dark yellow liquid, only to find that it had long since lost its life.

"This should just be an experiment, and a failed one at that. Hatching monsters might have been that person's idea, but it ultimately failed."

Come to think of it, if this kind of "mass production" could really succeed, it would probably have already overturned the entire world order, and would certainly not have remained unknown.

"What a pity," Roland sighed softly under Torg's astonished gaze, "This city lord has great courage, but unfortunately he has chosen the wrong path."

At the same time, a sense of curiosity arose in his heart.

He could completely understand why the monsters couldn't be hatched, as it involved the mysteries of life itself, but based on what he had learned over this period of time, the races of this world still exhibited a strange phenomenon.

—Reproductive isolation is extremely vague.

How exactly did these cross-species beings, half-elf and half-orc, come into being?

If there are no reproductive restrictions among humanoid beings, then why haven't we heard of half-dwarfs or half-dwarfs?

"That's an interesting question."

After thinking it over carefully, Roland suddenly laughed, looking particularly gruesome in the cold white light and surrounded by fleshy tumors.

Torger felt a chill run down his spine and urged repeatedly, "This place is too eerie! Let's leave quickly. May the Beast God protect us, and let's hope nothing new or strange appears ahead! Let's finish what we need to do and get out of here!"

"Don't rush..."

Roland squatted on the ground, took out the paper and measuring tape that the association had given him, roughly measured the scale and layout of the place, marked the location on it, and then stood up again.

"Let's go," he raised an eyebrow, his tone carrying a pure, exhilarating sense of discovery, "Let's see what other surprises this place can offer us...

"……OK."

Resuming their journey, the two first pushed open a heavy door and jumped into a narrow, dark passageway filled with sewage that reached up to their knees.

wow-

Water splashed, and several brightly colored mushrooms that looked like heads swayed with the water, startling Torger.

"They're human head mushrooms, don't be afraid," Roland waved his hand, casually stuffing two decent-looking ones into his bag. "Although they look scary, they're very popular in taverns."

They continued walking forward, rounded two corners, and soon saw a mahogany door at the front.

The bottom had long been eroded and rotten by the accumulated water, and the handle had begun to rust, but the surface was covered with purple patterns that shimmered with a faint light as the water rippled.

As the two approached the door, Roland's pupils suddenly contracted, and he reached out to stop Torger: "Wait, something's not right!"