The People Of Baengnyeong Forest (12)

“Uh…!”

When the blood-jade fragment was absorbed, several people flinched in surprise.

“Looks like this is the correct way to use the fragments.”

As she spoke, Hyeonseong checked the item info.

A new line of information—something that hadn’t been visible before—had appeared.

“For something that’s supposedly right before completion, that number feels kind of… awkward.”

Someone muttered in confusion.

“Did the Constellation Lord misjudge it?”

“But as far as I know, this description section doesn’t lie.”

“Still, if you set the target a little generously, 96% isn’t wrong to call ‘just about finished.’”

“But how much does completion go up per fragment?”

A new question came up mid-conversation.

“We can just check, can’t we?”

Someone who’d picked up a fragment during the fight brought their fragment close to the blood jade. Just like before, it was absorbed.

“The number didn’t change.”

People frowned as they checked.

‘So the increase must be in decimals.’

If it absorbed a fragment, there had to be some effect. It was just too small to show on the display.

“Since we’re here, should we just merge everything we have?”

Another person with fragments spoke up. Since there wasn’t any other way to verify, the others quickly agreed.

Everyone who had picked up fragments took them out and fed them into the blood jade. Six more fragments were added.

“Still no change?”

With the number stubbornly staying at 96%, the frowns only deepened.

“Then there’s only one thing we can do, right?”

Staring at the blood jade, Anna turned her gaze deeper into Basement Level 2.

“We have to find more fragments.”

“Not exactly what I wanted to hear.”

At Anna’s words, a few people stared at the blood jade with open discomfort.

“What else can we do?”

“Honestly, I hate it too—it feels wrong—but we can’t just not do it. If it’s part of the clear, we’ll need it.”

“Are we sure it’s really necessary? If it were something else, maybe, but this is….”

The discussion that had seemed like it would end quickly kept going. The 분위기 wasn’t good. Once people felt that uneasy itch, they couldn’t easily let go of the negative possibilities.

‘If I’m being honest, I’m unsettled too.’

Hyeonseong stared at the incomplete blood jade in her palm.

The pessimistic view wasn’t totally unreasonable. Some dungeon items were traps meant to sabotage the clear.

‘It’s not even rare for a dungeon to throw a trap at you on purpose.’

But among those traps, there were cases where you had to step on them even knowing they were traps— because you couldn’t progress unless the trap activated.

‘A boss that spawns in response to a trap, or an area that only opens if a trap triggers….’

After thinking for a moment, Hyeonseong tossed the incomplete blood jade back into the Infinite Corridor.

“Let’s leave it like this for now. We’ll collect the shards separately somewhere else.”

Hyeonseong told the group.

‘If it feels wrong, we just stop touching it for now and decide later based on how things develop.’

The others understood her intent and agreed. Most still looked reluctant, but it wasn’t like there was a better option.

“Then let’s continue the clear. Nobody needs more rest or treatment, right?”

“No—so stop wasting time and move.”

Ivan snorted and turned away at Hyeonseong’s words. Behind Ivan’s back, Hyeonseong quietly raised her middle finger again.

“Alright, let’s go.”

When the party re-formed their formation, Milena gave the signal. They started moving deeper into Basement Level 2 again.

After a few minutes, they ran into another pack of monsters—low-grade undead ranging from C-rank to B-rank.

The moment the monsters appeared, the party immediately took the initiative.

Kwajik!

Hwoouk—

A zombie took a mace to the head and dropped back into a corpse. Flames bursting from the floor and holy power burned and purified skeletons.

“Right side!”

Uuuu…

An arrow riding a wind spell shattered the skull of a skeleton trying to ambush them. Meanwhile, a few ghosts tried to slip into the group like before.

“Watch the ghosts!”

“Ugh, so cold…!”

Someone who got grazed by a ghost shrieked in disgust. Then white frostlight flashed from the middle of the ghost’s body, and it vanished along with the frost.

‘Still doesn’t feel like anything’s coming down from behind.’

Since no monsters were approaching, Hyeonseong glanced back. Nothing unusual—still quiet.

‘But this time, there is a trap, isn’t there?’

Her gaze returned forward—then lifted to the ceiling.

A faint crack-line was visible overhead. The lines formed a rectangular shape matching the corridor’s width.

‘That looks exactly like a lid that opens and dumps something.’

Whether it was active, and if so what triggered it—she couldn’t tell yet.

But people were moving violently right beneath it. If it was active, the trigger conditions would be met soon enough.

Hyeonseong opened the Infinite Corridor pressed tight against the ceiling—wide enough to cover the rectangular area.

Even after opening it, she kept scanning. She didn’t find any other new traps—but a ghost flew straight at her.

Uuu…

It rushed in fast. With its arms outstretched, it clearly looked like it was trying to make contact.

Hyeonseong tightened her grip on the pickaxe handle. She swung at the golden dot revealed by the “Mad Gatherer’s Eye.”

Kyaaaaaah!

The ghost screamed as the consecrated pickaxe struck its weak point.

In the opening created by its hesitation, Hyeonseong swung again. After stabbing the golden dot two more times, the ghost shrieked and dissolved.

Tok

As the B-rank ghost vanished, a blood-jade fragment dropped again.

‘If it keeps dropping every single time, then yeah—this is definitely meaningful, one way or another.’

These fragments weren’t like animal hides from beast-type monsters or metal scrap from machine-types.

They weren’t “natural byproducts.” They were deliberate drops.

‘Normally ghosts drop nothing, or something like spiritual energy. Physical items dropping at all… that’s usually when it’s a clue for the clear.’

Common sense said a ghost with no body shouldn’t be able to carry a tangible object.

So if a tangible object was dropping anyway, it meant the ghost’s grudge was strongly bound to that item.

And if monsters were that obsessed with it, wasn’t it likely to be either a weakness—or a key clue for clearing the dungeon?

‘So merging them really is the answer?’

No matter how she thought about it, she couldn’t come up with another use for the fragments.

‘Still… it feels wrong.’

After staring at the shard for a moment, Hyeonseong slipped it into her pocket.

The Infinite Corridor was currently being used to block the trap, so she couldn’t pull up the compartment where she usually stored items.

‘Once you start using it for another purpose, it’s annoying like this.’

‘What?’

A Constellation message came in right as she was thinking about when she’d be able to upgrade a skill. Hyeonseong glanced around.

Everyone else was still fighting undead. A few people sometimes reacted out loud to Constellation messages—

but nobody said the names of the two Constellations that had just messaged her.

‘No idea if it only came to me, or if others got it and ignored it.’

Either way, her choice was obvious.

‘Ignore it.’

There were too many things about it that felt off. Hyeonseong looked away from the messages.

When Hyeonseong ignored them and killed the next ghost, more messages arrived. When she ignored those too, similar messages kept coming in, again and again.

‘This is basically spam mail.’

After killing yet another ghost, Hyeonseong scowled. For “higher beings,” they were unbelievably persistent.

‘One clingy bastard is already more than enough….’

Now the clingy ones started bickering with each other.

‘Good. Fight each other and please stop caring about me.’

She ignored the messages and collected the blood-jade fragment the ghost had dropped.

“We’re done here!”

“Same on this side.”

At that point, the others ended the fight too. They’d cleared all monsters in this section.

“Again—this kept dropping every time we killed a ghost….”

“Whatever it is, they’re obviously giving it to us to use somewhere.”

The others were thinking the same thing Hyeonseong was about the fragments.

“Is this the only meaningful thing we found?”

“Looks like it.”

“Then for now, give these to Hyeonseong—”

“Ah, wait a second.”

As they were about to hand them over, Hyeonseong spoke up.

The moment everyone relaxed, item acquisition notifications began pouring out.

That meant items were currently raining into the Infinite Corridor she’d opened toward the trap.

‘It’s javelins—just keeps feeding javelins in.’

Newly piled up inside were dozens of E-rank throwing spears. Each one’s quality was poor—probably meant to be mass-loaded into a mechanism and launched.

They’d never even scratch an Awakened’s fortress.

But for ordinary commoners trapped in an underground prison, they would’ve been more than lethal.

‘…Not totally useless.’

With quality this low, they wouldn’t sell well even if she listed them on a market. Better for her to use them herself.

“Alright. It’s done now—hand them over.”

When the acquisition notices stopped, Hyeonseong closed the Infinite Corridor and spoke. As people held out the shards, she opened it again and collected them together.

‘They won’t merge by themselves inside, right?’

After collecting them, she checked the item list for the compartment where she’d stored the shards. They were still fragments—unchanged.

Then Hyeonseong opened the item list for another compartment— the one storing the “Ember of the Fire of Judgment.”

‘It’s not even an ember anymore.’

The Fire of Judgment given as a quest reward by “Hell’s Inferno” had grown from an ember into a full flame.

She’d left it alone in an empty compartment, and it had expanded on its own.

‘It grew even faster when I fed it kindling a few times, but basically it just grows even if you do nothing.’

There were items that changed autonomously—like that flame—so it was natural that the blood-jade fragments made her wary too.

‘Still, judging by the state of things… as long as I don’t store them together with the incomplete blood jade, it should be fine.’

She’d checked what she needed. Hyeonseong closed the item list.

“That….”

Someone was staring up at the ceiling. Hyeonseong looked up too. The trap area had been completely opened—gaping wide.

“Ah, there was a trap up there. With your skill level it probably wouldn’t have been much of a threat, but if we can avoid it, it’s better to avoid it, right?”

Hyeonseong answered their confusion.

“There really was a working trap?”

Pablo asked, sounding a little rattled—like he felt she should’ve caught it sooner.

“Why didn’t we notice?”

“Were the undead’s aura just too strong compared to it?”

“Or maybe it was so minor you overlooked it.”

Others quickly comforted Pablo, offering excuses like that.

“…No. I think we got careless because the upper floors were too easy. From now on, we need to pay more attention.”

Pablo shook his head.

‘If they handle that side, all the better for me.’

This trap had been simple enough that even Hyeonseong could spot it.

But subtle, well-camouflaged traps would be beyond her.

Those needed someone with sharper senses—or a real trap specialist.

“No one needs recovery, right?”

“I’m fine!”

“Me too.”

“Then keep moving.”

There was nothing else to investigate here. The party pushed deeper inside.