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Just as I stepped into the Cave, I felt my vision dim. Everything around me was pitch black. Even with my enhanced vision, the visibility was definitely no more than 3 meters. My heart jumped. Regardless of whether there was an ambush, I immediately pulled my foot back, did a lazy donkey roll—no, a lazy Wolf roll—and quickly retreated from the Cave Entrance.
Huh, there doesn't seem to be any movement, I thought to myself. If there had been enemies around just now, the Poison Creeper underground would have already started attacking automatically. Its vision shouldn't be affected by the darkness.
After thinking for a moment, I cautiously stepped into the Cave again. This time, knowing there was no ambush around, I wasn't as flustered as before. However, upon entering, my eyes still weren't fully adjusted. All around me was darkness, my vision severely limited, and a faint, sinister aura seemed to weigh down on me.
My limbs felt heavy. 'This isn't good,' I thought. In this state, facing an enemy would be a dead end.
Helpless, I had to rely on my dim vision to feel for a wall near the Cave Entrance. I had the Poison Creeper stand guard around me, while I leaned against the wall and sat down, planning to let my eyes adjust to the dim environment for a while.
"Ugh."
Suddenly, the spot where I sat felt soft. When I touched it with my hand, a wet, slimy sensation came from my fingers. My heart jolted. I probably already guessed what it was, but driven by that damned curiosity, I still turned my head to look.
A bloody Rogue head was staring at me. It had already begun to rot, its lips crawling with maggots, as if grinning maliciously at me. What I had touched with my hand was a section of large intestine from its ripped-open belly...
"Ough…"
I didn't know how many times I had vomited. I spewed out all the bitter bile from my stomach while rushing out of the Cave. I found a Small River nearby and desperately scrubbed my hands, which reeked of decay.
Reflected in the river was my blurry silhouette. This was the first time I had seen myself in the Diablo World. Like in my original world, I was a bit thin. My face, not particularly handsome, had an added pallor. Short, messy hair lightly covered my forehead, and my gaze still held a trace of the weakness and confusion I brought from that other world.
After arriving in this Diablo World, I originally thought I had already gotten used to it, had come to terms with it. But I didn't expect that when push came to shove, I would still be so unwilling. What kind of powerful strength could compare to the comfortable life at home? What kind of blood-boiling battle could compare to the peace and tranquility of that world, the enjoyment of high technology, the security of a sound legal system, carefree days, and peaceful times? Now, it had turned into a world filled with corpses everywhere, a competition where the weak were prey to the strong, a life of constant fear and uncertainty, a world shrouded in sorrow and despair. Why did I have to live in this godforsaken place? Why did I have to endure this suffering? Why me, of all people?
"It's okay. You'll get used to it after throwing up enough."
After a long, long time, I smiled and said to myself. The tears flowing from my eyes slowly dripped into the Small River, turning into grievance and helplessness, drifting away with the current...
"Yes, that's right. In this world, I am alone. I am different. I have no peers, no confidants. I can only rely on myself. No one is trustworthy, and I can't afford to be soft-hearted…"
I admit, in that moment, I went crazy, I went wild. My thoughts were twisted, heading towards an extreme. But it doesn't matter. As long as I can survive, that's enough. I want to live. I want to live better than before…
...
...
When I stepped into the Den of Evil again, there was no longer fear or cowardice. The mountains of corpses and piles of bones around me seemed like mere stones. In my eyes, a look of unyielding fortitude finally appeared. It didn't give me greater strength, nor did it allow me to abandon my emotions and desires. It merely allowed me to bury my feelings deeper, making them more concealed.
Werewolf Form had already worn off. The consumption of 15 Mana prevented me from casting it a second time. Fortunately, my Life was already 95 points. Even if danger arose, I believed I wouldn't lose my life.
Ignoring the overwhelming stench of rotting flesh and bones around me, I quietly sat near the Cave Entrance for a while. Once I felt my eyes had adjusted to the light here, I immediately stood up and, without any hesitation, crept forward into the depths, which resembled the gaping maw of a ferocious beast.
The interior of the Den of Evil was vast and deep. Light simply couldn't reach inside. Fortunately, there would occasionally be a Magic Lamp on the walls enchanted with Eternal Illumination. However, the Den of Evil itself seemed to be permeated with a damp, bone-chilling Dark Mist, so even with the Magic Lamp's illumination, my vision was still greatly obstructed. At most, I could only see a tenth of what I could outside. This was very dangerous; it was even possible for enemies to discover me while I still thought I was safe.
Fortunately, I had the Poison Creeper guarding me. Its vision wasn't affected, or rather, it didn't have 'vision' in the first place. So, when an enemy approached within 10 meters of me, it could detect them in time and initiate an attack. Theoretically, I shouldn't be in danger of being ambushed.
The Cave was large and bottomless, like a maze. It twisted and turned, sometimes presenting forks or even crossroads. If I hadn't brought a Town Portal, you couldn't have paid me to go in.
The spaces inside varied in width. Some were narrow, barely allowing two people to walk side-by-side, while others were wider than an entire football field. And 90% of the time, a large Monster tribe would reside within.
I generally chose to walk through the narrower parts of the Cave, as such places couldn't accommodate large groups of Monsters. At this point, I couldn't distinguish north, south, east, or west. As long as I could still move forward, I kept walking. If there was a fork, I'd choose the smaller path.
It seemed my judgment was quite accurate. Along the way, I encountered many Fallen and Rotting Corpses, all in small groups. With the Poison Creeper present, they were just easy prey for me.
My current strength, combined with the Poison Creeper, was enough to handle 2 small groups of Fallen without Werewolf Transformation. If I used Werewolf Transformation, that number would double.
Of course, most of the credit went to the Poison Creeper. It basically took down Fallen one bite at a time. The key was how long I, its master, could last under the Fallen's blades. These Fallen weren't stupid either. Seeing their companions attacked by the Poison Creeper, they seemed to know I was the real target. Except for the Monsters entangled by the Poison Creeper, the others would all rush towards me. Although the Poison Creeper's attack is sharp, it can only do so much at once; it can only hold back one at a time at most. This helpless situation dictates that I cannot provoke larger groups of Fallen like I can with Rotting Corpses.
It was a shame. If these Monsters were a bit dumber and split up to attack the Poison Creeper, I believe I would win much more easily. That's because I wasn't worried about the Poison Creeper at all. Its self-recovery was very fast. Even when severely injured, it could become lively again after just over an hour of rest. Besides, even if it accidentally died, couldn't I just Summon it again?
As for Rotting Corpses, honestly, I wasn't afraid of any quantity of them. Their movements were simply too slow. Even if a dozen gathered together, I just needed to stand far away and direct the Poison Creeper to attack. By the time they reached me, they would mostly be dead. However, the Poison Creeper would take some Damage. After all, in a group of Rotting Corpses, no matter how fast it moved, it would inevitably be accidentally hit by a few Rotting Corpses right next to it. But with its Life reaching 137 points, it was enough to ensure it was injured but not killed.
I've really started to like these clumsy Rotting Corpses now. Their terrifying corpses don't seem so disgusting anymore. Each one gives 10 Experience, exactly double that of Fallen and Hardened Skin Rats. Plus, with my Bugged Amulet quadrupling it, I get 40 Experience. And their Critical Hit Chance... I don't know if it's really as Lars said, or because of this Bugged Amulet I have, or perhaps both. In any case, it's exceptionally high. On average, two Rotting Corpses will drop some Gold Coins and Silver Coins, and ten Rotting Corpses will drop a Potion. However, the Equipment I need still hasn't appeared. I'm already Level 3 here, but I'm still practically naked.
Suddenly, the path ahead darkened. Several blurry, almost indistinguishable shadows were stretched long and distorted. From the shape of the shadows, based on my previous experience, I knew there must be Fallen ahead, and not too many.
Compared to the increasingly lovable Rotting Corpses, I've come to dislike these Fallen since entering this Cave. Unlike the Rotting Corpses, they aren't slow; they are very agile. When my Poison Creeper attacks one of them, the other Fallen are incredibly cunning. They actually know that I am the Poison Creeper's master! They abandon the Fallen struggling under the Poison Creeper's grasp and swarm towards me to attack. Although the Poison Creeper's attack is sharp, it can only do so much at once; it can only hold back one at a time at most. This helpless situation dictates that I cannot provoke larger groups of Fallen like I can with Rotting Corpses.
Sticking close to the damp wall, I slowly felt my way forward. Following the dim path ahead, I looked. My gaze sharpened, and my breathing became slightly ragged.
It was an Elite Level Fallen Shaman, along with 6 smaller Fallen.
(end of chapter)