After leaving Blood Mountain, Ren steered his vehicle toward Shadow Vein Caverns, the engine humming softly as he navigated the rugged terrain. As he drove, a memory from the night before resurfaced in his mind.
---
[The Night Before]
Hidden within the shadows of a secluded cave, Ren had formulated a plan. His hatred for the Dark Order—the organization responsible for the brutal deaths of his uncle and aunt—burned deep within him. Revenge was inevitable. He knew those bastards would eventually show up, scavenging even the bones of the dead without a shred of remorse.
To him, they were nothing but parasites that needed to be wiped out. So, he left them a little surprise—a message tailored just for them. Alongside it, he carefully positioned several mana grenades he had taken from fallen enemies.
These grenades were no ordinary explosives. The slightest exposure to mana or even brute force would trigger a deadly chain reaction.
"Heh. Hope those bastards enjoy my little present," Ren muttered with a devious grin.
---
[Present Time]
Ren wasn't the type to dwell on consequences. He had done what he wanted, and that was all that mattered. Now, he was already halfway to Shadow Vein Caverns.
In a novel he once read, this place was depicted as a battlefield-like dungeon, teeming with golems.
According to the story, some NPCs had once stumbled upon a mysterious ore here, unaware of its true value. Clueless, they had sold it to a wandering blacksmith, thinking it was nothing special.
That blacksmith, however, was no ordinary craftsman—he was a wandering dwarf with an eye for rare materials. The moment he laid eyes on the ore, he recognized its worth immediately. It was Meteor Ore—an incredibly rare and powerful material. Without hesitation, he purchased it.
Using that ore, the dwarf forged what he considered his greatest creation—a high-tier legendary sword.
But that weapon never saw battle.
Why?
Because the miserly old dwarf refused to sell it. Even when the novel's protagonist himself tried to negotiate, the stubborn craftsman dismissed him outright.
But this time, things would be different.
Ren was here. He would claim that ore and craft a weapon unlike any other.
After a while, he arrived at the entrance of Shadow Vein Caverns.
He stored his vehicle inside his space ring and slipped on a concealment robe—a rare mid-tier artifact he frequently used when training outdoors.
Being a Holmes Family heir candidate meant he attracted attention wherever he went, something he found highly inconvenient.
"I'd rather not deal with whatever bullshit comes my way if I walk around uncovered," Ren muttered, adjusting the robe's hood over his face.
After checking in at the hunter booth, he stepped into the cavern.
---
[Inside Shadow Vein Caverns]
With the rise of Awakening across the world, crime rates had surged. In response, various governments had come together to establish the Hunting Management Association—an organization tasked with overseeing and regulating hunters.
They had set up booths near dangerous locations such as dungeons, labyrinths, and ruins, ensuring only those with a valid hunting permit could gain entry.
Beyond issuing permits, the association also provided emergency assistance to hunters in need.
However, even with all their influence, they were powerless against high-ranking guilds like the Azure Dragon Guild—a powerful organization that operated beyond their control.
Ren, of course, had no patience for bureaucratic nonsense. Thanks to his father's connections, he had acquired a counterfeit Hunter ID—an essential tool for someone like him who preferred to move without restrictions.
Though the association played a key role in maintaining order, it was obvious that certain powerful individuals still moved freely, unchecked.
As he made his way through the area, Ren's ears picked up on a conversation nearby.
A group of adventurers had gathered, engaged in what seemed like idle gossip.
"Hey, did you hear about the Holmes Family heir?" a middle-aged man with thinning hair and thick-rimmed glasses asked.
His protruding belly strained against his button-up shirt, which was at least two sizes too small. His pants were pulled up so high that his white socks were fully exposed.
"Oh, you mean Ren Holmes?" a young woman with platinum blonde hair and excessive makeup chimed in.
Her low-cut top clung tightly to her figure, and her skirt was so short it barely served its purpose. She tottered slightly, struggling to balance in absurdly high heels.
"Yeah, apparently, he got his ass handed to him by the Diamond of fontaine and Elara Holmes. Hah!" A smirking young man with short, spiky hair and a leather jacket added.
The man had a massive tattoo covering his neck, multiple piercings on his ears and nose, and wore ripped jeans paired with scuffed black boots. His arms remained folded across his chest as he chuckled.
"And I heard his engagement with Lyra fontaine is on the verge of being annulled," the blonde woman added, her voice dripping with amusement.
"Well, it's no surprise. Ren Holmes follows Lyra around like a lost puppy, while Elara actually works her ass off. It's bound to happen sooner or later," the middle-aged man scoffed.
Their conversation was followed by a chorus of laughter.
Humans were predictable. They always found amusement in someone else's misfortune.
'Ah… the sweet sound of people running their mouths.' Ren smirked as he hummed an old tune under his breath.
'Looks like Elara's been spreading more false rumors again.'
Unlike his cousin, Ren didn't waste time building social connections. He could have made friends if he wanted to—he simply chose not to.
Elara, on the other hand, surrounded herself with people, using them to spread rumors that painted him in a negative light.
But he didn't care.
Seven more days. That's all he needed. And then his plan would fall into place.
Without sparing the gossiping fools another glance, Ren strode deeper into the cavern.
---
For a while, Ren engaged in battle with the golems that roamed the depths.
He aimed his gun and fired—but the bullets ricocheted harmlessly off their metallic bodies.
"Tch. Regular bullets are useless against these things," Ren muttered in frustration.
With a flick of his wrist, he channeled mana into his ammunition, enhancing its power.
After reloading his weapon, he resumed the hunt.
As he battled more silver golems, he made a mental note to replenish his supply of magazines for Storm Fang. His gun, after all, wasn't unlimited in its ammo capacity.
The golems here were much like the ones described in the novel. They possessed a singular weakness—their cores. Destroy that, and they would fall.
Dancing between their attacks, Ren carefully observed their movements, searching for an opening.
With each battle, his control over mana sharpened, his senses becoming more refined.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of fighting, his patience paid off.
There, hidden deep within the cavern, lay his true objective—Meteor Ore.