The room wasn’t particularly fancy, but it had everything necessary for a comfortable stay.
As soon as he stepped in, Renan collapsed onto the bed, feeling exhausted—not from traveling, but from processing all the new information.
’It seems like things aren’t as simple as I thought,’ he mused while staring at the ceiling.
With that thought lingering in his mind, his eyelids grew heavy, and soon, he drifted into sleep.
~~Next Day~~
Renan woke up to the sound of knocking on the door.
*TUK*0
"Ugh," he groaned, rubbing his eyes as he sat up in bed, still feeling groggy.
*TUK*
Another knock came, slightly louder this time.
"I’m coming," Renan called out, stretching his body before getting to his feet. He walked over to the door, still half-asleep, and opened it—only to find no one standing in the hallway.
"Huh?" He frowned in confusion, looking left and right but seeing no one.
"Where is the person who knocked?" he muttered to himself as he stepped forward, intending to check.
But just as he moved ahead, he unexpectedly bumped into someone. He blinked and looked down, only to see a dwarf standing there, arms crossed, looking up at him with a face that screamed, ’Really? Are you serious right now?’
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Realization dawned on Renan, and he let out an awkward chuckle.
"Haha, my bad. I forgot I was in the dwarf empire," he admitted sheepishly.
The dwarf scoffed before letting out a sarcastic laugh.
"Hahaha, very funny, human," he said, clearly mocking him.
Renan cleared his throat, trying to ease the awkwardness. "So, why were you knocking on the door?"
The dwarf sighed and spoke in a no-nonsense tone. "Your time is already up. If you want to stay longer, you need to pay. If you don’t, then get out."
His words weren’t exactly polite, but they got the point across.
"I see," Renan said simply. "Then I’ll be leaving."
Without wasting another second, he stepped out of the room and into the hallway.
The dwarf, watching this, raised an eyebrow. "Do you not want to check if you forgot anything inside?"
"No need," Renan replied flatly as he made his way toward the stairs.
After all, he had his storage ring—there was no reason for him to leave anything behind. If he used something, he would put it straight back into his ring instead of leaving it lying around.
Once he reached the ground floor, Renan found himself at a table and ordered something to eat. He didn’t actually need to eat—his body could function as long as he had mana—but there was an enjoyment in eating itself. So, despite the fact that the food here wasn’t the best he’d ever had, it was still good enough to fill his stomach.
After finishing his meal, he left the inn and stepped onto the busy streets, walking down the road while glancing around the city. His mind drifted back to his conversation with the old dwarf from the previous day.
’Why hasn’t the Dwarf Progenitor’s dungeon been cleared yet? Is it really that difficult that even after thousands of years, no one has managed to conquer it?’
Renan recalled asking that exact question to the old dwarf while they sat across from each other at the tavern.
The dwarf had responded without hesitation, his expression serious.
"Indeed, that dungeon remains unconquered even after thousands of years. Not a single one has been cleared—not the one belonging to the elves, nor the one belonging to humans, nor even the one left behind by the dwarves. All three dungeons remain untouched, their secrets locked away from the world," the dwarf said before taking a long sip of his beer.
"But..."
The old dwarf had paused, placing his empty beer glass down before picking up the next one.
"The reason they remain unconquered isn’t because of their difficulty level," he continued. "It’s because of the requirements for entry."
Renan had frowned at that. "Requirements?" he repeated, urging the dwarf to elaborate.
The dwarf nodded. "Indeed, requirements. And there is only one…" He took another sip before finally saying, "To enter any of the three dungeons, the individual must be under ten years old."
At that revelation, Renan had felt his entire body freeze.
"Ten years old?" he had echoed in disbelief. "That’s impossible! How could a ten-year-old possibly clear a dungeon created by the Dwarf Progenitor himself? It’s almost as if those dungeons were designed never to be conquered—as if they were meant to remain standing for eternity." Renan said excluding himself.
The dwarf had sighed, nodding in agreement. "Indeed, it sounds impossible. But back then, the leaders of the respective races refused to give up so easily. They tried to work around the restriction. They began grooming children from the moment they were born—training them from a young age so that by the time they turned ten, they would be strong enough to enter the dungeon and clear it."
Renan had listened carefully as the dwarf continued his explanation.
"However, no matter how hard they trained, there was a limit to what a child’s body could endure. The absolute strongest among them managed to reach the Second Stage in their respective paths by the time they turned ten. A rare few prodigies reached the Third Stage. But no one—not even the most talented individuals in history—managed to reach the Fourth Stage before the age of ten."
Renan had fallen silent at that.
"Every single child that was sent into those dungeons... never returned," the dwarf said grimly.
"The races eventually realized that it was a lost cause. They gave up trying to clear them and instead decided to station Seven-Star Warriors near each dungeon to guard them—to watch for any abnormal activity."
Renan had remained deep in thought as he processed that information.
"And that’s when the rumors began," the dwarf had continued. "People started saying that the Dwarf Progenitor didn’t create those dungeons to be conquered. Rather, they were left behind to ensure that people would always remember him—that his legacy would remain etched into history forever."
Renan, thinking back to that conversation now, felt an eerie sense of intrigue.
’The Dwarf Progenitor didn’t want his dungeon to be conquered?’
’Then… what was the true purpose of those dungeons?’
Lost in thought, he continued walking through the bustling city streets, the morning sun casting long shadows on the cobblestone roads.