The passage was completely different from the cave paths they had traveled before.
The rock walls here were smoother and more even, as though some immense force had polished them into a regular, gently curved arch that extended into the depths.
Sparse but steadily glowing crystals were embedded in the walls, casting a soft, milky-white light that made the passage bright enough to see without being glaring.
The air was dry and clean, almost entirely free of the musty or stale odors common in the Dungeon, and the temperature remained comfortably cool.
Special passages like this, which connected different levels of the Dungeon, were exceedingly rare safe zones within the Dungeon as a whole.
This area caused most monsters intense discomfort, aversion, or even fear, so they generally would not cross such passages, much less linger in them.
That gave adventurers exploring the deeper levels a rare buffer zone where they could catch their breath and regroup.
Once he stepped into this safe area, his tightly wound nerves finally relaxed a little.
Only then did Greg have the attention to spare for the system notifications that had kept flashing in the corner of his vision during the battle.
With a slight shift of his thoughts, a translucent system interface unfolded before his eyes.
A string of messages was neatly displayed:
[Skill acquired: Sowing Level 1] [Skill acquired: Sowing Level 1] [Skill acquired: Sowing Level 1] [Sowing leveled up to Level 2] [Experience gained: 880] [Bonus experience gained: 88] [Level increased to LV21]
"The experience haul wasn't bad. I've passed level 20, too..."
Greg's gaze swept over the experience and level-up notifications, giving him some comfort.
He had gained four levels in one go, passing the level 20 threshold that significantly affected skill proficiency. That meant he now had a chance to raise the proficiency of some skills he already possessed.
That was good news.
But when his gaze landed on the new skill that had appeared three times and successfully advanced to Level 2, his expression gradually froze.
"Sowing...? What the hell kind of skill is that?"
With an ominous feeling, he opened the skill's detailed description with a thought.
[Sowing Level 2 effect: Increases the chance of impregnating a female by sixty percent. (This effect ignores racial boundaries.]
Greg: "..."
He stared at that description for a full five seconds, then silently squeezed his eyes shut.
Motherfucker... Are you trying to turn me into a goblin?!
A mix of disbelief, frustration, and an overwhelming urge to rant churned in his chest. He felt as though this outrageous skill had nearly broken him.
I killed over a dozen goblins, including an elite shaman, and this is what drops?
Couldn't you have given me one of the goblin shaman's signature attack spells?
Shadow Bolt, Corruption, Bloodlust... Hell, even the lowest-level Piercing Scream would've been fine!
What kind of cursed skill is Sowing?!
Is this a hint that I'm supposed to take the farming route, having loads of kids for good fortune and spreading my family tree throughout the Dungeon?
And I'm supposed to follow the Indian stereotype and get into bestiality, too?
Greg took several deep breaths before he barely managed to suppress the urge to howl at thin air.
He kept comforting himself inwardly: Forget it, forget it. At least I leveled up. That's a real, tangible benefit.
As for this crappy skill... I'll just pretend it doesn't exist. It doesn't look like there's any need or occasion to actively use it anyway.
Forcing the aggravating description of Sowing Level 2 out of his mind, Greg closed the system panel.
But after walking on like that for a while, he suddenly felt that something was off about the atmosphere.
His gaze quietly swept over Sylvia, who followed behind him with her head lowered, lost in thought. Then he sensed the unusual stillness within his own shadow.
The passage was far too quiet.
Especially after the fierce battle they had just fought, that silence felt a little... awkward.
Sylvia had not spoken of her own accord since entering the passage. She still seemed absorbed in her thoughts, which was understandable, considering the crisis she had just been through.
What Greg found harder to get used to was that even Nightmare, who normally liked to pop a remark or two into his head without warning, or make snide comments just to see his reaction, had remained unusually silent this time.
From the moment he started checking the system until now, the black cat had not made a peep.
With both of them quiet, Greg actually felt a little out of sorts.
He hesitated, then took the initiative and asked her in his mind:
"Hey, Hachimi, why'd you suddenly stop talking too? Trying to act all deep?"
A few seconds later, Nightmare's ethereal voice finally drifted into his mind, carrying a touch of feigned innocence:
"Were you not the one who previously asked me to remain quiet and refrain from disturbing you without cause?"
"Oh, cut the act."
Greg called her out without mercy:
"When have you ever actually listened to me, you little menace? Earlier, when I wanted to take care of some personal business by the Dark River, I asked you to go somewhere else for a bit. But didn't you insist on staying in my shadow while saying, 'I have no interest in that glowing, hideous thing of yours'? You left me standing by the river forever, like I was being punished!"
"Heh..." Nightmare seemed to chuckle softly, making no attempt to deny it. "It seems you truly are becoming increasingly familiar with my ways."
Greg was right.
Nightmare's unusual silence had nothing to do with any of Greg's earlier requests.
But the real reason was indeed closely connected to Greg himself, and had even stirred a rare trace of bewilderment and... curiosity in this ancient, knowledgeable deity.
She had noticed the power Greg used in the battle.
Dark Bracer, and... Dark Wave.
In Nightmare's vast memories and understanding, every spell changed in form and power as its user's proficiency increased.
And highest-tier spells did not merely possess initial power far beyond ordinary spells. Their proficiency caps also far exceeded those of spells at any other tier.
In this world, basic spells usually had a proficiency cap of LV5, low-tier spells LV6, mid-tier spells LV7, and high-tier spells LV8.
Only highest-tier spells could reach the astonishing proficiency cap of LV9.
That meant mastering a highest-tier spell and cultivating it to an advanced level often required a supremely gifted individual to devote an entire lifetime of effort to it.
Thus, there was an unspoken rule: no living being, however extraordinary their talent, could truly master more than one highest-tier spell over the course of a lifetime.
This was an invisible restriction that the laws of the world imposed on an individual's capacity.
Before you continue