[System Achievement Unlocked! Venturing Beyond the Nest]

  You’ve taken your first steps into the great unknown… Well, your minions have. Baby steps!

  Reward:

  Explorer’s Instinct – Minions outside the dungeon gain a +5% boost to perception and reaction speed.

  Adaptive Movement – Outdoor minions receive a slight increase in agility, improving evasion and pursuit capabilities.

  Wayfarer’s Bond – Minions that successfully return from outside gain a small temporary morale boost, slightly increasing efficiency for a short time.

  Bonus Mana +15 – Your dungeon’s mana reserve permanently increases by 15.

  “Oh, I never expected to get something just for sending my minions outside,” Ordis mused as a notification from the system popped up. The message had only appeared after he successfully analyzed the flying lemur, meaning this achievement was a direct result of his decision to let his minions hunt beyond the dungeon for the first time.

  “Well, I won’t compin about free rewards. Ah… now I’m curious about something.”

  Feeling a bit experimental, Ordis issued a command to D. Spider, directing it to leave the grassnd and enter the deeper wilderness. The rge arachnid moved swiftly, its eight legs gliding effortlessly over the terrain. Since Ordis was paying close attention, he noticed something strange the moment D. Spider fully exited the meadow.

  “I think… something just changed.”

  A new system warning fshed before him. Alongside it, a countdown timer appeared on D. Spider’s status screen—45 hours remaining.

  “Wait, is this… a survival limit?” Ordis muttered, rubbing his nonexistent chin. “So, my minions can’t just stay outside indefinitely without consequences.”

  Not only that, but he also noticed a new function on the map. Unlike before, when he had no visibility beyond the dungeon’s immediate surroundings, he could now track D. Spider’s movement as a small icon moving through the terrain. The simplified map dispyed different shades of green, seemingly indicating the density of the forest, with darker areas representing thick jungle and lighter patches signifying open spaces. A small blue winding line marked the presence of a river nearby.

  “Huh, it’s like a real-time strategy game,” Ordis remarked. “I can see its general location, but I can’t actually see what’s happening there in detail.”

  Despite having night vision, his ability to observe outside the dungeon was still limited. D. Spider’s dark coloration, combined with the dense forest and the dim early-morning light, made it impossible to track visually. Once it left his domain, it effectively disappeared from view.

  “Tch. So, I really can’t micromanage them out there. Guess I’ll have to trust D. Spider’s instincts.”

  With that realization, Ordis watched the moving icon on the map, eager to see what his minion would encounter in the untamed wilderness.

  “Especially if she could catch some birds,” Ordis mused, watching the simplified map dispyed in his system. “That’d be ideal.”

  He could see the river on the map, but it felt too far from his dungeon’s territory. He had no idea what lurked around those waters—monitor lizards? Crocodiles? There were too many unknowns. Besides, his dungeon wasn’t exactly suited for aquatic creatures. Hunting near the river might bring some interesting species into his minion catalog, but the risks outweighed the rewards.

  “Better safe than sorry,” he muttered. Instead, he focused on commanding D. Spider to hunt closer to the dungeon, shifting her priority from rodents to birds. If he could add another species type to his growing collection, maybe he’d unlock another achievement.

  As he observed the map, he noticed something odd. The tiny 2D spider icon moved erratically—darting forward, then abruptly backtracking, even making strange zigzag motions.

  “Huh? What’s going on now?” Ordis frowned. “Is she fighting something? Or did she just catch something big?”

  The ck of direct visuals frustrated him. If only the system provided something as simple as HP and MP bars, like in a proper game, he’d have an idea of how the battle was going. Instead, he was left to rely on the cryptic dance of a moving icon on what felt like a fantasy version of Google Maps.

  Still, he had to trust D. Spider. She was a predator, a master hunter. If anything, she had the upper hand in most fights—unless, of course, she accidentally ran into something way out of her league.

  Then, after a few moments of chaotic movement, the icon settled. The erratic shifting stopped, and D. Spider began making her way back to the dungeon.

  “Ah, I wonder what she caught this time…” Ordis muttered, narrowing his eyes toward the entrance.

  At first, there was nothing but the still, consuming darkness beyond the meadow. Then, something stirred.

  A pair of glinting, unblinking eyes pierced through the void, reflecting an eerie, ghostly light. More followed—eight in total—glistening like cold, predatory stars. They hovered motionless for a second, just long enough for a creeping dread to settle in Ordis’ chest.

  Then, the hulking form emerged.

  D. Spider’s body slid out of the shadows with an unnatural smoothness, her elongated limbs moving with slow, deliberate grace. The way she crept forward—silent, calcuted—sent a chill down Ordis’ nonexistent spine. It was the kind of approach one would expect from a monster lurking in a horror movie, not from his own minion.

  The darkness clung to her form as if reluctant to let her go, her silhouette shifting between the moonlight and shadows, making her seem almost unreal. Then, the rest of her massive body came into view.

  Hanging from her monstrous fangs was her test prey—a limp, lifeless carcass, its wings still partially outstretched as though it had only just stopped struggling. Strands of silk clung to it like the st remnants of a futile escape.

  Ordis involuntarily tensed at the sight. The way she carried her victim, her eight gleaming eyes fixed forward with cold, unwavering intent—it was nightmare fuel. If he were still human, he would have bolted in the opposite direction, screaming like a terrified child.

  In fact, he cringed as he imagined his past self encountering something like this in real life.

  “Ugh… I used to freak out over a single cockroach crawling on my wall,” he muttered. “If something like this came at me back then, I’d have a heart attack on the spot.”

  Still, he couldn’t deny it.

  As terrifying as she looked, D. Spider was damn impressive.

  “Oh, you got something different this time.” Ordis commented cheerfully, catching sight of a wing sticking out from the carcass D. Spider carried.

  At first gnce, he assumed it was a bird—his anticipation rising for a moment—but as D. Spider lowered her quarry, he immediately realized his mistake. It wasn’t a bird at all.

  It was a bat.

  The creature had a wingspan of roughly 30 centimeters, with a compact body about ten centimeters long. Its lifeless form hung limp in D. Spider’s grasp, its membranous wings partially outstretched as though frozen in its st attempt to escape.

  “Huh… too bad. Not a bird.” Ordis sighed, slightly disappointed. Still, he couldn’t deny that this was an impressive catch. “I suppose it makes sense why D. Spider looked so busy earlier.”

  The erratic movements he had seen on the map started to make sense. Unlike rodents scurrying along the ground, this prey had the advantage of flight. Ordis imagined the struggle—D. Spider likely climbing trees, lunging from branches, spinning silk traps, and repositioning herself mid-hunt to corner the bat. It might have even fought back, swooping in to harass her before finally being caught.

  In the end, the battle must have been more intense than the usual hunts.

  “Hm, I’d say she did well, right?” Ordis mused, closely observing his minion.

  Despite the supposed struggle, D. Spider looked perfectly fine—no visible injuries, no damaged limbs, nothing to indicate she had taken any real hits. That could only mean one of two things: either she was agile enough to avoid the bat’s counterattacks entirely, or her natural defenses were tough enough that the bat simply couldn’t hurt her. Either way, it was reassuring.

  “Right now, her intelligence is at 27. That should be enough to recognize danger, right?” Ordis thought aloud, feeling a little more confident in his minion’s instincts. “As an animal, she should naturally know how to avoid ambushes and avoid other unnecessary risks.”

  Still, he wished he had a more concrete way to measure her condition.

  “It would really help if I had HP as an indicator.” He sighed. “I mean, is there a feature like that if I rank up?”

  As if responding to his concerns, the system promptly sent him a notification.

  [Successfully analyzed the body of a Bat. You can now summon Bat as a minion.]

  Ordis barely had time to process that information before another message popped up.

  [You do not have these features. Need to rank up to get more reliable features.]

  “Oh?” He blinked, then smirked. “At least that sounds promising.”

  Even if he didn’t have HP bars or direct battle logs yet, the system had just confirmed that more advanced features would eventually unlock. That was enough motivation for him to keep going.

  For now, though, he had a new species in his arsenal—a flying minion. And that opened up a whole new range of possibilities.

  “If I can get more slots… that would be nice,” Ordis muttered. “Ah, I wonder if something will happen if my minions stay outside too long—other than dying when their lifespan runs out?”

  It was a valid concern. The countdown he had seen earlier made it clear that his minions couldn’t survive indefinitely outside his dungeon’s range, but was that the only consequence?

  [Minions that remain outside the dungeon for extended periods will suffer debuffs. Status attributes may decrease by 10–20%, awareness will slow, and skill cooldowns—such as Acid Bite and Silk Shot—will lengthen. It is not recommended to stray too far from the dungeon, as you may lose access.]

  “Hm, that’s reasonable…” Ordis nodded to himself. It made sense that his minions, being essentially constructs of the dungeon system, would be heavily reliant on it. However, one part of the message stood out to him.

  “Wait—loss of access?”

  [Minions that travel more than two kilometers away from the dungeon will lose all blessings granted by the dungeon. This results in the loss of enhanced senses, buffs, and size modifications.]

  Ordis blinked. “Wait, isn’t that too harsh?”

  The realization hit him immediately. If D. Spider ever strayed too far, she wouldn’t just be weakened—she would revert to an ordinary spider. No enhanced intelligence, no predator instincts, no special skills. Just a mindless, tiny insect.

  “Well, at least I know now…” He sighed, shaking off the uncomfortable thought. “For the time being, I can’t send my minions to explore the river or hunt too far from the dungeon.”

  Even so, he wasn’t too discouraged. Even small bits of information like this helped him understand his limits.

  “I guess this means I’m learning more about myself as a dungeon… and my minions.”

  Age : 9 Day 3 hour 20 Minute

  Mana Reserve : 148 / ??? (Capacity Expanding) 1 Mana per 40 Minute