Chapter 298: Wishful Thinking

Words : 1065 Updated : Oct 3rd, 2025

Chapter 298: Wishful Thinking Sid felt like he owed the little Master an apology. That’s right. He probably did. Because if there was one person he should’ve pegged as suspicious, it really should’ve been the little Master’s allegedly "good" brother—who, at this very moment, was unloading what looked like the entire fortune of a small, extremely paranoid military outfit. Sid and D-29 may not have the capacity to taste food, but they could definitely count. And right now, they were seeing what Ollie called "limited stocks." Rations? Check. Healing Pills? Also check. Spiritual food, fruits, compact sleeping pods, medical supplies, clothes, more food, drinks, emergency towels, fluffy towels, and did we mention more food?! Check, check, check—and checkmate. Even Butler Gary was unsure how Ollie could fit all of it inside his space button, but then they realized he was nesting them. It was a space button within another space button. "..." "???" "I think, provided we don’t end up living here, we should be fine with this much, brother," Luca said as he looked at the things that Ollie was segregating. "Here, everyone, I think everyone should have enough items in their space buttons. We need to make sure we don’t put our very limited eggs in one basket." Xavier thought it was sound advice if not for the small mountain that Ollie really had. The Imperial Crown Prince could only look at his adjutant and understand what Kyle meant by Ollie having too many things. However, maybe his wife shouldn’t open his mouth like that, for it seemed like both of them were truly blessed with a crow’s mouth. And one was especially fast-acting. Once the supplies were distributed and a perimeter was confirmed safe, the group decided to step beyond the wreckage of the crashed ship. What greeted them was not normal. The landscape was stunning. Alien. Lush. And wrong. Massive tree-like structures, hollowed and bridged together, formed a lattice canopy above them—like natural cathedrals made from bark, fire, and fungal bloom. Crimson light filtered down through semi-translucent membranes, bathing the ground in hues of ruby and gold. But this land was unnervingly divided. On one side, glowing green grass rippled gently, dotted with deer-like creatures whose antlers shimmered faintly. On the other, the land bled—crimson moss coating the soil like velvet, broken by sporadic patches of crimson flame trees littered with what seemed like fruit. Orbs of light drifted lazily in the air. They floated like pollen but pulsed like embers. When one brushed against Luca’s cheek, it left behind a nostalgic feeling, like the bathing in the warm afternoon sun. But none of them felt comforted. "It’s beautiful," Kyle whispered. "But I hate it." The dungeon felt...aware. Watching. Waiting. But if they were alarmed with how this place felt off, one little system was having an even worse time. D-29, still partially functional, chirped nervously from within Luca’s head. "Host... I am attempting to recalibrate my core modules, but the external energy interference is causing system instability." "I’ve tried five subroutines. Nothing’s syncing. I can’t even identify this biome." When nothing worked, D-29 returned to reference the manual, which would typically never be checked. But true enough. Manual Note 43-B: Cases where Integrated Dungeon Spaces could become inaccessible. 1. The host had lost connection by perishing. 2. The host’s spiritual sea has collapsed. 3. The host has entered another dungeon. 4. A dungeon collapse. D-29’s voice trembled, still more used to communicating with prompts. "Host...this may either be a dungeon collapse, or we’ve entered another dungeon. Luca’s expression tensed. The skittish animal was no expert, but he had heard a few things. And as it is, that was definitely more things than everyone else who had no concept of dungeons. In his first life, he heard about the Dungeon Cores, impossible physics, and immense spiritual density. But instead of publicly releasing everyone’s findings, the government elected not to present them formally. Because dungeons weren’t just dangerous—they were unpredictable, and worse, politically inconvenient. He remembered now. Guilds from Tesseris fought not for glory but control. To seize these dungeons meant to dictate their rules. A claimed core not only closed the dungeon gate but was also enough to power an entire country for so long. However, this skipped one notable information regarding dungeons. And that would be the possibility of a Dungeon Break. This time, Luca shared his hypothesis with everyone. If anything, Xavier was surprised to see Luca sharing information that he hadn’t parted with before. But how could he not when they could be the re-enactment of that dungeon break he once witnessed? "Then we need to find the core," said Xavier, who listened to Luca’s explanation. "Yes, and while I’m not sure about all the details, I know that each dungeon would follow a set of rules. We just need to figure them out." Luca added, his gaze steeling. But it wasn’t only them with the same goals. From a ridge high above the vibrant forest of light and decay, one warrior crouched among flowering thorns and ancient rootwork, wrapped in the glow of a cloaking veil so finely tuned that even the air refused to disturb her presence. She’d felt it all happen—the dungeon had roared in response, just as it always did when new participants arrived. But she hadn’t expected to feel that again. That odd, flickering energy signature. Familiar—not in form, but in rhythm. Like a song she’d once hummed in another life. It struck her hard, a note of warmth buried beneath the dread. Still, she did not move. The others gathered below were strangers to her. Some with power, others with poise. But one among them moved like a tether to a memory. She narrowed her eyes. The way his presence disturbed the air, or maybe it was the way his presence disturbed hers. It sent a chill crawling across her ribs, even in the heat of the dungeon. It couldn’t be. Could it? She pushed the thought down. For someone as unlucky as her, was there even a chance for such random grace? But it wasn’t the time for wishful thinking. Not here. Especially not when this place devoured the hopeful. And so, she stayed in place, unmoving, a seasoned ghost in the underbrush of a living labyrinth. Eyes trained on the small party below as they cautiously assessed their surroundings.

Chapter 298: Wishful Thinking

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