Nada Volume 1, Chapter 5

Episode 5 – Encounter

A small room with no students and no monsters.

It was faintly lit by crystals embedded into the walls. There was no ceiling, and far, far above, a distant light could be seen. Whatever served as the light source was unclear.

In that small dungeon room, a mound of fine rubble had piled up.

Naturally, with no living beings present, not a single sound was made. Actually, a breeze blew through. A sudden gust. It struck the mound, causing grains of sand to trickle down from its slope and peak.

And then it happened.

From the top of the rubble mound, a thick human arm emerged.

The arm lowered, and its owner pushed himself upright from within the heap.

The figure that appeared was covered in dirt.

Blood was running from his face.

He looked practically like a corpse.

“…Thought I was dead for sure.”

That man was Nada.

He must have refused to let go of the Green Dragon Crescent Blade he’d been carrying, because it still remained in his right hand.

It was true he had suffered a number of injuries when he was buried under the collapsed rubble, but he hadn’t died. If a little more had come down on top of him, he probably would have.

Even so, he was far from unharmed.

His ribs were broken from the impact, and the thin skin above his eye was split open, bleeding heavily. His armor showed blood seeping through in several places, suggesting lacerations all over his body. And his right leg… crushed by the rubble, it had almost no sensation. He removed his leather boot and checked the leg. It was swollen and bruised, purple and twisted in a direction no leg should twist.

He had the feeling that if he didn’t treat himself immediately, he’d die.

He quickly reached into the pouch at his waist and pulled out a vial of green medicine.

A healing potion.

And not just any healing potion.

It was one whose effectiveness had been boosted through the Gift of a certain friend.

Nada poured it over his head. A stinging pain shot through every wound.

Then he took out another potion, this one blue, and drank it all in one go.

The taste was bitter enough to make him grimace.

He retrieved yet another bottle and set it beside him. Biting down hard, he used his kukri knife to slice open the congestion in his right leg, forcing the blood out, then pushed the bone back into place with both hands. Foam spilled from the corner of his mouth as he endured the agony, then he hastily poured the healing potion over the leg. Using the cloth bandage wrapped around his abdomen, he secured his ankle.

He then rested on top of the rubble until his condition stabilized.

Thankfully, not a single monster appeared.

“…Still, this place reeks…”

Nada felt his nose sting.

The smell wasn’t the usual earthy scent of a dungeon. It was the smell of something that had been buried underground for countless years.

And then—the overwhelming number of crystals.

Beautiful, almost fantastical… yet somehow unsettling.

“Only I would get sick of a place this pretty. Makes me hate myself.”

Nada clicked his tongue at the scenery.

Something about it irritated him.

Thanks to the enhanced healing potion given by his friend, the wounds on his face and the lacerations were almost completely healed, but his ribs and his right leg were another story. Even a boosted potion couldn’t fix broken bones. He’d heard rumors of high-grade potions so powerful they could heal fractures just by drinking them, even revive the dead… but someone as broke as Nada obviously didn’t own anything like that.

So the pain in his ribs and right leg remained.

Especially the right leg. It was bad.

If he stayed still and let the potions do their work, it might heal in less than a week—but inside a dungeon, that wasn’t exactly an option.

That’s why he had wrapped the injured joints and the fractured area tightly with bandages to keep them in place. The pain lingered, but not to the point that he couldn’t walk. He definitely had to get out of the dungeon as soon as possible, but…

This wasn’t how things were supposed to turn out.

“I was supposed to be eating that awful oatmeal right about now…”

But Nada didn’t have the luxury of the proper rest he needed.

Gritting his teeth through the intense pain, Nada pushed himself to his feet and began walking slowly.

His eyes seemed to glare at the beautiful walls around him.

There was only one path leading away from the previous room.

Nada proceeded down it in silence.

His lips were pressed in a straight line, and his brows furrowed. Maybe because walking was difficult, he was using his long polearm as a makeshift cane.

In that condition, he passed through an area where crystals illuminated the edge of the path.

He came upon several forks in the road.

Was it better to go right, or better to go left?

Nada had no idea.

So he chose one at random, trusting only his gut.

He didn’t notice it then, but there were adventurer markings carved into the walls.

Even so, he encountered no one on his path.

No monsters, not even people.

There weren’t even any sounds.

All he heard was the dragging of his feet, his ragged breathing, and the clack of the polearm striking the ground.

The only sliver of hope in all this misery was simply that he wasn’t running into monsters.

The air stuck to his skin, clammy and heavy.

Almost as if it had some kind of viscosity.

His legs felt like they were moving through resistance.

Nada wondered if, deep down, he already knew what awaited him ahead.

Walking down this dusty corridor, he felt as though he were trapped in a labyrinth with no exit.

How many years had it been since he last felt this way?

Surely, not since that time.

Nada was born into a poor farming family, the second son among six siblings. Since he was little, he never attended school; instead, he helped with the farmwork at home. He hardly had time to play, spending most days swinging a hoe. Even helping his father didn’t earn him a wage. Still, with his brother three years older working the fields and his sister one year older helping with housework and childcare, he naturally believed he too was expected to work.

He had never even considered wanting to go to school.

But then, a turning point came for Nada.

The village was struck by famine.

That year brought a once-in-decades poor harvest—almost nothing grew. Of course, Nada’s family, being tenant farmers, suffered financially, and his sister became a servant for a nearby noble household to earn money.

But that alone wasn’t nearly enough to improve their situation.

There was little food in the house, and they still had taxes to pay.

Naturally, with food being so limited, there was no such thing as distributing it equally among all family members.

The one who ate the most was their father, the family’s breadwinner. Next was the eldest son, the heir. Then their mother and any remaining food were prioritized for the youngest children. As for Nada—whose body was larger than anyone else’s in the family—he was given almost nothing to eat.

Nada felt despair at that reality.

In the end, he was nothing more than a replaceable spare heir. If he died, that was it. Even if he lived, he would simply be used up and discarded in the future.

His father, worn down from daily labor, barely acknowledged his existence. His mother doted on the younger ones. His older brother, working as the heir, now looked at him with a harsh gaze, seeing him as nothing more than a lurking jinx waiting for a chance to take his place.

The famine had changed a once kind family.

At that time, Nada remembered the words of a merchant who had visited their village when he was very small.

In that distant land called Inferno, anyone can enter the academy for free, and there they can learn the skills needed to become an adventurer. Some adventurers, he said, had risen all the way to nobility through sheer ability alone.

Realizing his home held no future for him, Nada set off for Inferno with nothing but his determination, ready to die trying if he had to.

When he told his family he was leaving, not a single person opposed him. His father and older brother even looked pleased, while his mother looked as if she’d already lost interest. Most likely, Nada thought, his father had only one thing in mind: one less mouth to feed.

Since the village he lived in was fairly close to Inferno, reaching it didn’t take much difficulty. The road was simple and straightforward.

If there was one problem, it was that by the time he arrived at the academy, his cheeks were completely sunken. Just before reaching it, he had collapsed on the ground, having exhausted every last bit of strength. As he lay there thinking he might actually die, he suddenly felt how small and insignificant he was. He had only ever known a tiny village of about fifty people, but here, in this town, he finally understood how big the world was. Just how wide could this world be? Even as he wondered that, he was nothing more than a powerless child. The thought alone brought tears to his eyes. Why did he have to die like a stray dog in a place like this? Despair was all he felt.

Fortunately, one of the senior students in the area happened to give him food and saved his life.

Nada thought that once he entered the academy, he could finally breathe easy—but he was wrong.

The entrance exam itself was easy to pass. It was nothing more than a simple physical test.

But what came after was difficult.

The entrance fee was free, but the monthly tuition was not. He had to pay it himself—or go into debt. And since Nada had no home in Inferno, he had to live in the dormitory, and that too required payment. Meals also cost money. Because of this, Nada was forced to dive into the dungeon almost every day just to earn enough to survive.

But that wasn’t the only hardship.

Following the academy’s classes was already an enormous struggle.

First of all, Nada couldn’t read. Because of that, he couldn’t understand half of the lessons, and only the spoken lectures entered his head. This was eventually solved thanks to a friend’s help and his own hard work—though he still sometimes misreads things.

But the problems didn’t end there.

He understood almost none of the academic content.

The academy’s curriculum was broadly divided into two sections: theory and practical training.

Practical training focused on strengthening the body, learning techniques, understanding weapons, and studying methods of dungeon exploration. These lessons rarely involved sitting in a classroom; most were held in various academy facilities. Nada, who had never learned any martial arts before, struggled greatly. Most other students had parents who were adventurers, merchants, or nobles, and many had been trained since childhood. Beginners like Nada were extremely rare. Still, compared to the academic lessons, practical classes were “better.”

After learning to read, Nada ran headfirst into his lack of general education.

He couldn’t do basic arithmetic—addition and subtraction meant nothing to him. Some days, he spent nearly the entire day just learning how to calculate. And because he’d never been able to read, he lacked all sorts of knowledge: the country’s history, how adventurer tools worked, the political system—everything. He spent countless hours trying to absorb it all.

It took him two years to overcome these hurdles. Every day was spent studying and exploring the dungeon, collapsing into bed like a lump of mud each night. Those two years spun by in a blur.

And after all that, what awaited him was—the label of “failure.”

Back then, too, he’d been kicked out of his party and had no idea how he was supposed to live. He had no one to rely on and nowhere he belonged. Joining another party was nearly impossible.

It felt like his entire existence had been rejected.

During that time as well, he wandered the dungeon alone—walking down a path with no answers in sight.

Thinking back on it now, Nada realized he had been wandering this kind of maze his whole life. With no destination, no purpose, stumbling through the darkness. Even now, that feeling had never left him. No—perhaps there had been no light on his path from the very beginning.

Thinking that made him feel strangely relieved.

Then he stepped into a large chamber.

The air changed.

It was a familiar scent.

Rich blood, and the cold tang of iron.

Calling it unpleasant would be a lie.

If anything, it felt comforting.

To Nada, neither this place nor the outside world held anything like a peaceful time.

Inside the dungeon, monsters bared their fangs at him. 

Step outside the dungeon, and students bared their fangs at him instead.

The only place Nada could rest was in his dreams.

So as he moved through the room, something inside him rang with a harsh warning.

There was no way this place could be a paradise for him.

And that was why—Nada was instantly captivated.

There, in the depths of the room, awakening was the Guardian.

A being of pure terror.

In the corner of the room, bloodstains clung to the beautiful crystal walls, along with a human corpse. Pools of blood spread across the floor like dark puddles. Amid the multicolored crystals and the vivid crimson, there stood a black gargoyle beside a shattered stone statue. The moment Nada met the gargoyle’s sharp, red eyes, his body trembled.

It was fear.

Then the gargoyle let out a piercing cry.

Nada instantly widened his stance and raised his Green Dragon Crescent Blade. Running wasn’t an option. Under normal circumstances, he would have bolted straight out of the room, but right now his legs wouldn’t allow such speed. So while stepping backward toward the exit, he chose to fight.

He had plenty of combat experience, but he had never faced a gargoyle before. He had no idea what kind of attacks a creature like this might use. As he carefully observed its movements, he realized something surprising—the gargoyle was gripping a great spear. A glaive.

With its right hand holding the glaive and its empty left hand pressed to the ground, the gargoyle charged like a bull.

When it closed in on Nada, it swung the glaive sideways.

Nada instantly raised his weapon vertically and blocked.

The blow was heavy.

His body slid nearly a meter back.

Gritting his teeth through the numbness in his hands and the agony in his legs, he stretched a foot toward the gargoyle and brought his blade down in a powerful arc.

But the gargoyle beat its large wings once and escaped upward. The blade just grazed the tip of its foot, only slicing off a bit of flesh. Just a few drops of blood spilled from the gargoyle.

While glaring up at the creature in the air, Nada quickly retreated. Unfortunately, with no Abilities or Gifts, he had no means of dealing with an airborne enemy. He could only run—but even as he did, the gargoyle swooped down, rotating as it closed in, and swung its glaive sideways.

Nada blocked it with his Crescent Blade, but the impact was so strong he couldn’t brace himself. He tumbled across the floor.

The gargoyle remained airborne, gliding toward him, and this time brought the glaive straight down.

Nada hastily recovered his stance, lifting the Crescent Blade from below to clash against the descending strike.

The two weapons collided—his two-handed Crescent Blade against the gargoyle’s single-handed glaive.

For a brief instant, they locked in perfect balance.

But of course, the sad reality remained.

Nada was human. Not a monster. The gargoyle’s strength pushed him back. He immediately withdrew his blade and spun, striking from the opposite direction.

The gargoyle matched him, catching the blow with its glaive.

Again and again, Nada’s Crescent Blade and the gargoyle’s glaive crashed together. His sweeping strikes met the monster’s sweeping strikes. He drew back the blade and tried to smash the gargoyle with the iron pommel, but its left arm caught the blow.

A front kick shot toward Nada.

He leapt back to soften the force, then quickly drew the weapon back up, set it upright, and brought it down again.

The gargoyle countered by slashing sideways with its glaive, knocking Nada’s strike off course. His blade hit the floor. Then the glaive carved into his side—though it struck his armor, sparing him a lethal blow.

Even as pain tightened his chest, Nada pulled the Crescent Blade back in front of him and stepped away.

The gargoyle followed up immediately, swinging the glaive in a diagonal cleave.

Nada retaliated, sweeping his blade sideways to intercept. The weapons collided.

Both weapons were knocked aside. Maintaining their distance, the two continued trading blows.

Like a raging storm, they hurled everything they had at each other, again and again.

But while the gargoyle still showed no sign of fatigue, Nada was already battered and on the brink of collapse. It wouldn’t have been strange for him to fall at any moment.

In a brief moment, Nada realized he was being overpowered.

His legs buckled under the gargoyle’s pressure, forcing him back—slowly, steadily.

He glanced behind him for a split second.

There was a wall.

The entrance he had come through was far to the right.

At this rate, he would die—he felt it clearly.

“AAAAAARRGGHHHH!”

Dragging his heavy legs, he roared and lunged into the gargoyle’s reach, swinging his Crescent Blade with every ounce of strength he had left.

But the shaft was caught by the gargoyle’s left arm.

It leaned its body back and thrust out its right leg.

Nada gave a thin, twisted smile just before the kick slammed straight into his stomach. He nearly vomited—but his stomach was empty, so only blood spilled from his mouth. He tumbled backward, and as his momentum faded, he noticed the entrance drawing near.

His plan had worked.

He immediately turned his back to the gargoyle and fled through the doorway.

Once he left the room, the gargoyle did not pursue.

Still bearing heavy wounds, Nada continued making his way deeper into the dungeon in search of an exit.

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