Archmage from Another World: Gaining Administrator Access [LitRPG Isekai]

22. Root

Further scouring of the boss room revealed a trapdoor hidden underneath a thick layer of dirt. After scraping the slab of wood clear with her boot, Vesper pulled on the iron handle with a grunt, lugging the trapdoor open. She peered into the darkness.

"Ladder leading down. Probably the next floor?"

"I thought you said it would be stairs?" Morgana said.

"Can be anything. They're just usually stairs. This could also be something else, another loot room or something. Worth looking into, either way."

Vesper climbed down, Flint following, and Morgana last. The flimsy ladder shook and rattled with each step, and Morgana feared the whole thing would collapse. Ten or fifteen rungs down, her boots met stone, and she departed from the rickety contraption with a sigh of relief.

They were in a hallway, a mineshaft supported by occasional wooden beams, like the rest of the first floor. Except Morgana could see their lantern light brushing against a patch of grass. The foliage grew thicker the deeper into darkness the tunnel went.

Curious, the three of them walked, and indeed, the mineshaft aesthetic pervading the first floor was replaced with something else altogether. The neat geometric rectangular hallway morphed into something more organic, a cave tunnel, and grass replaced the hard stone floors. Roots snaked through the walls and vines and foliage hung down from the ceiling—or even sprouted from the ground. Another few dozen steps deeper, and they spotted the first tree tickling the now-much-higher-up cavern ceiling.

A tree? Underground? How did it survive? Morgana supposed of all the fantastical things she'd seen in the past two days, that was hardly the strangest, but she still couldn't help but be bewildered.

"Definitely the second floor," Vesper said.

"More of a drastic change than I thought. Usually it's gradual. Look at all the plants." Flint grunted. "Look at all this cover. We're gonna have to pay a lot more attention to ambushes."

Morgana hadn't even thought about that. She had just been taking in the sight. All the lush foliage and the roots crawling through the walls. But Flint was right; the mineshafts on the first floor had given clear sight lines, with mine carts and occasional rocks about the only thing monsters could hide behind. With even thick trees sprouting up in these cavernous hallways, not to mention the tunnel being many times wider, and thus having far more space to scan or be flanked from? Morgana might not be a warmage, but she could recognize the tactical disadvantages of the new terrain.

The second floor was supposed to be more dangerous than the first—apparently not just because of how strong the monsters were but also because of the environment.

"I wonder what traps will look like here," Vesper commented. "It'd be kinda weird if there were pressure plates and trip wires just hidden on the forest floor. Bet they'll be something else."

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"It'd be better if we waited till we had an idea what we're in for," Flint said. "What monsters we'll find."

"It's not like we have guildmates to ask."

"Might be time to do some networking. There's gotta be someone who'll take pity on the newcomers. Or at worst, someone to pay." He looked around, eyes lingering on a tree. "More than enchanted gear, having a basic idea of what we're about to find could be what saves our asses."

"We'll poke around next time we're on the surface, then."

Their conversation tapered off as they began progressing through the dungeon's second floor in earnest. Grass and earth squished beneath their boots as they walked. Morgana scanned their surroundings and strained her ears, her hand twitching, ready to raise and defend herself.

Of course, it didn't take long to find their first monster. The [Biolumiscent Sporefiend], level four—a squat, two-foot-tall mushroom-thing with legs—rushed toward them with a scream, emitting purple gas from its cap. Morgana nearly released a terrified screech of her own, it was so unexpected. She had thought the creature a part of the alien foliage: just some giant white-and-red mushroom sitting near a cavern wall.

Thankfully, her instincts didn't fail her. Her hand shot up, and a [Magic Missile] slammed into the beast before it reached them.

It turned out a level four, second-floor monster was no more resilient than its first-floor brethren. Not against a mastered-tier [Magic Missile]. The mushroom's stalky body exploded, and it stumbled a step before slamming face-first into the ground. Purple gas still spewed from its mushroom top, though after a second—right as white light started to emanate, indicating a lootable corpse—the miasma ceased, drifting up to the ceiling and disappearing. It was a good thing it'd died before getting to them; melee fighters would likely have difficulty attacking it without being forced to breathe some of that gas in.

"What the hell is that?" Morgana asked, equal parts horrified and disgusted. "It had a face. Why did that mushroom have a face?"

"Dungeon monsters can get weird," Vesper said, her nose wrinkling as she looked at its corpse. "But yeah. Freaky little thing." She nudged it with her foot.

After looting the monster—some coins and random crafting materials that they'd sell later—they kept on.

Over the following two hours, they encountered a number of bizarre creatures. [Glade Stalkers], which were large, green, preying mantis-like beasts. [Glowwyrms], venomous serpents that emitted a faint white light. [Rootbound Guardians], humanoids with retractable and expandable root limbs. And many others.

Most notably were the [Fungal Wisps], floating balls of raging green light, which were apparently highly resistant to magic—but which evaporated nonetheless under a barrage of [Magic Missiles]. While many times less dangerous than the [Oremound Crusher], they'd been just as durable thanks to their high magic resistance. They served as a reminder that there were things to worry about in the dungeon, despite their fortunate starting circumstances. What would a magic-resistant boss be like, then? Would one be able to weather even Morgana's spells?

They made slow and steady progress. Even Vesper, eager as she'd been to take on the more dangerous second floor, treated the trip with the gravity it deserved—as alert and cautious as any of them.

Eventually, the first mishap occurred.

Vesper triggered a trap.

All three of them had ignored it, not knowing better. A root had laid horizontally out across the grass, and Vesper had noted it, ignored it, and, upon passing, her foot had landed squarely on the unassuming piece of plant life. Morgana could barely process what happened next, the root acted so quickly. The moment Vesper's boot met the thick protrusion, it shuddered violently and retracted, causing the girl to stumble. Then it lashed out, slithering around Vesper's ankle, securing her in a firm grip—and with enormous strength, lifted the girl off the ground. With a harsh whip, it slammed her back down. Her dagger went soaring away, wrenched from her hand. Vesper hit the ground hard, a loud thump filling the air, and the root retracted, disappearing into the cave wall.

Morgana and Flint froze in shock. Vesper rolled over after a second, groaning loudly, obviously dazed.

"V-Vesper?" Morgana asked, hurrying over.

Vesper's hands went up to cradle her nose, blood already gushing from between her fingers. While the soft grass wasn't the worst thing to be slammed into, the root had moved fast; it had absolutely not been a gentle impact.

"What the hell was that?" she groaned. "What just happened to me?"

"It was…a root? I think? Are you okay?"

Vesper pulled her hands from her face. Her nose was gushing blood. Her eyes were watering, probably from the pain.

"Broken?" Vesper grunted. She rolled her features around and winced at the pain the action produced. "Not sure. But I'm good."

"What do you mean you're good! You're bleeding! A lot!"

Flint handed Vesper her dagger; he had kept his wits about him, Morgana realized, and had stayed alert for the potential of a follow-up, quickly fetching Vesper's discarded weapon. Morgana chided herself for reacting so instinctively, not staying aware of potential danger. It had just been so shocking.

"Eh, just a little bit," Vesper said, even as blood all but poured out.

"A little bit!" Morgana's hands reached out toward Vesper, but hesitated, obviously having nothing to do. She retracted them. "That's more than a little bit!"

"I'm fine, I'm fine. We got, like, something to cover this with?" Vesper asked. Flint was already handing her a bundle of cloth, pulled out from his backpack—one of the basic preparations they'd made. "Thanks."

Morgana kept kneeling next to Vesper, feeling useless. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Vesper spared an amused glance toward her. "I've taken worse than a bloody nose." She winced. "But jeez. My ribs hurt too. And my knee. Couldn't even react. It just happened. A root, you said?" Her words came out funny because of her clogged nose, and the cloth she was holding against it.

"I missed it too," Flint said. "I thought it was just part of the environment." He frowned at his sister, obviously concerned, however calmly he had reacted to the event—not rushing over like Morgana. "This is what I meant. We're vulnerable to all kinds of things. Traps, stealth attacks, swarms. Morgana's spells don't mean anything in the face of those. It's dangerous being here."

Vesper rolled her eyes. "It's a dungeon," she emphasized. "And I'll take my punches if it means a few silver each time." She muttered darkly, "Taken worse than a bloody nose for a whole lot less than some silver, you know. We both have. So why are you complaining?"

Flint frowned at her, crossed his arms, but ultimately didn't reply.

Morgana's stomach squirmed at the words.

Taken a lot worse, for a lot less. Like what?

They sat there for a bit, letting the bleeding slow.

"We need healing items," Flint eventually said. "Can't afford potions, obviously, but after today's run we can get something. Enchanted bandages. We should head back, so you're not dealing with that for the next few weeks. If we're fast enough, they'll still be effective."

Morgana tilted her head at Flint's wording. "Are they time sensitive?"

"Healing items are strongest when applied immediately. They get weaker as time passes. So yes."

Morgana nodded and stood. She held a hand out for Vesper. "We're doing that then."

"I can keep going," Vesper protested. "Seriously, I'm barely hurt."

"We're going back and getting you something," Morgana said firmly. "You don't have a choice in the matter. It's happening."

Vesper blinked at her, then looked away, as if flustered.

"You really are bossy," she said. "Fine."

She accepted the hand up, wincing as she stood, one hand going to her ribs with a soft gasp. Morgana's frown deepened; Vesper was more banged up than she was letting on. Not surprising. Again, the root had moved fast. Soft grass and dirt or not, that had to have hurt.

Flint gave one more concerned look to his sister, then turned and started leading them out.