Rana entered a tunnel faintly lit by orange light pulsating within the dangling lamps above. There were no fires within the lights, only the Dungeon’s magic. The jagged walls that formed the path cast sharp shadows onto the ground and cut into everything under it. It was an apt threat.

The Dungeon was riddled with traps, one of the few reasons not many adventures chose to farm for loot here. They needed to overcome the many deadly machinations before able to even begin hunting the already scarce monsters. There were worthwhile hunts in the deeper part of the mines, but getting there was difficult and not worth the risk.

Despite that, Rana was thankful for the light above. An informative threat was not to be feared but to be welcomed. It was darkness she wondered whether she had the courage for.

Rana continued forward. The path near the entrance was straightforward and there were hardly any obstacles. That was to be expected. A false sense of security lowered the guard of adventurers and a lower sense of difficulty emboldened carelessness. Overconfidence was a disease that crept towards the unsuspecting. The Dungeon’s whisper was enticing yet many adventures failed to realize that their deaths were the only reason for its temptation.

Rana had to be careful. Every single Dungeon was out to kill intruders, whether they were human or not. The Mines Without Blood was no exception.

The danger did not deter her, however. Rana didn’t need to conquer the Dungeon but she needed to head deep within the mines. The closer to the core the more intense was the hatred. That was where other adventurers fell. They despaired and wailed during their deaths, and the darkness within them would corrupt their mortal belongings. That would be where she had the best chance of acquiring a cursed item.

She needed to go further.

Still, it was too quiet. Dungeon entrances were usually the easiest part but they were never empty. To not even encounter a single shambling zombie was unnatural. It was almost as if the mines were safe. Something was amiss. There were no safe Dungeons.

Muted shuffling under the ground caught her attention. Hostility was declared. Rana called upon her mana. The dirt beside her foot gushed outward before breaking free. Sharp fangs sprang up and shot towards her. She dodged its trajectory and the worm flew harmlessly by into the wall. Before it was allowed to burrow in between the rocks, Rana pulled at its tail and slammed the monster onto the ground.

The impact splattered its skin and sickly green slime oozed out of its dying body and into the dirt. It was a Rot Eater. Its larvae-like body squirmed in pain and its tail jerked from left to right. Its fanged tongue struggled to find the ground but the edge remained unbroken. It looked to run and plan another attack.

Rot Eaters were unique monsters. Like their name suggested they eat only rotten flesh. This meant their targets were either dead bodies or reanimated ones, like zombies. They never attacked living beings. To consider them monsters was misleading as the only trait they shared with other monsters was providing an insignificant amount of experience points for marked ones. They hid and slithered within the dirt until they encountered rotting flesh. They would then strike with a swiftness and ferocity that fell any walking dead.

It was unfortunate that the Rot Eater’s target this time was blessed with a Class. If they were of little threat to regular humans, what threat could they pose to one with capabilities years of training couldn’t match?

With a stomp, Rana crushed the worm under her bare foot.

It was not over and Rana knew it. Rot Eaters do not wander. They congregated and swarmed their food. The slow and weak didn’t get to eat. The one she killed knew that. They were the reason there were no zombies near the entrance. All of them were consumed and Rana was next in line.

Just like before a faint shuffling began under the ground followed by the deceleration of hostility. Dirt sprouted and fangs sprang. Rana calculated the trajectories and rolled to the side. The Rot Eaters missed their target and burrowed into the walls they landed on. She could hear their slithering as the monsters dug towards her.

Rana could perhaps fight them off and stayed in a state-of-combat forever like this. However, Rot Eaters barely gave any experience points and it was not like she could kill them for an eternity and emerge from the mines as an unstoppable force. Her undead body did not know fatigue but her mind still did. She would eventually make a mistake and her already low health would be depleted.

What a rotten way to die.

Rana ran. She picked up her speed which meant there was less time to observe and react to traps. However, it was a risk she was willing to take. It was still early in the Dungeon and most traps near the entrance only inflicted physical status ailments, something her undead body was immune to. The faster she was able to leave the leash range of the Rot Eaters, the safer she would be later on. Having to deal with the monster and traps at once was not something she wanted to do.

The paths began to diverge and branch into multiple directions. This usually meant that an adventurer needed to take care and map their trek to ensure they did not get lost. It was not an issue for Rana. She remembered which paths she took. Not to mention there was little point in mapping The Mines Without Blood.

Rana detected hostility towards her front so she made a turn into the left path. The monsters continued to chase her and she managed to avoid their ambush due to their open hostility towards her. She had her undead flesh to thank but she also wouldn’t have this issue were she human. However, the musing of her undead state of being was quickly replaced with a sense of unease.

The Rot Eaters were too persistent. They were slow but unrelenting. There was something unsettling about their fixation with Rana. Monsters did not starve and there should be no shortage of rotting flesh around the area. She should've been out of their leash range already.

The sudden appearance of hostility made Rana turn once again into another path. It wasn’t a coincidence. When Rana sensed hostility there was always a path open for her. It was as if she was being led towards somewhere.

There could only be one answer.

Rot Eaters were lesser-monsters. They have nearly no intelligence and were only driven by their instincts to consume rotting flesh. They would not be chasing after running prey, especially one that they could never hope to catch. This meant that there was a plan. They wanted Rana to run. The monsters saw something special in her, dead flesh imbued with mana was an enticing meal. The monster knew. The monster desired.

To her front was another ambush but Rana decided to push forward. She covered her head and charged. She felt blades slice past her flesh but she paid them no attention. Rot Eaters did little damage unless they burrowed within the flesh. What was unseen was far more dangerous.

The tunnel behind Rana shook and an angry wail cried out before breaking the ground. She picked up her speed as she intended to leave as much distance between her and the sound of falling dust and bursting rock behind her.

Rana was right.

The dead left behind regrets, anguish, and darkness that needed to be cleansed. When a Rot Eater consumed an abundance of tainted flesh in a short amount of time, they would be unable to digest their consumption and their gluttonous nature caused them to burst and die. There were few that would survive for a few moments and their dying breaths would fuse with their brethren that suffered the same fate. The Rot Eaters congregated and became one. They would then become a monstrosity of whirling decayed flesh. They did not eat. They infect and caused everything to rot into them, joining them in a twister of death.

Rana ran and hoped the Rot Mother would not catch up to her.