Talent Awakening: I, the Weakest Awakened, Start with Dragonfire Spell

The moment Jelia stepped out of the passage, she was momentarily stunned.

Not from fear, but sheer astonishment.

The end of the passage opened abruptly into a vast cavern, reminiscent of stepping into a magnificent hall.

At the end of the passage, all traces of humanity forcefully erased, leaving behind only the silent beauty of nature.

Countless conical crystals stretched down from the cave ceiling, their own faint luminescence providing the sole source of light within the cavern.

The glossy, semi-transparent stalactites drooped from the ceiling, their dark light refracting and scattering through the mist to emit a deep blue luster, akin to a clear night sky.

At the tips of the stalactites, water droplets gathered before shining brightly in the darkness, mirroring the twinkling stars above.

Just the cave ceiling alone painted a breathtakingly beautiful nightscape.

Beneath the "nightscape" lay a tranquil, deep lake, its edges invisible even to Jelia with her extraordinary vision.

She could only see the mist-like vapors that hovered and shifted over the water.

Droplets gathered on the stalactites above, eventually captured by gravity, plunging into the lake with a sound.

That was the source of the water noises Jelia had heard moments ago.

Tightening her clothes around her, Jelia suddenly felt a slight drop in temperature.

Was it her imagination? Hesitating for a few seconds, she decided it was best not to approach the unknown waters.

After all, who knows what resides within them?

She walked a considerable distance around the lake, circling back to the passage's entrance without uncovering anything new.

It seemed to be a closed environment, connected to the outside world only through that passage.

Yet, the path was one-way; Jelia had seen no forks in the road on her journey, and upon her arrival, the passage ended abruptly at a cave wall.

An entirely sealed area yet it bore marks of human craftsmanship? This paradox left Jelia in a state of hesitation, sinking into confusion.

Initially, she thought this place was merely an ordinary ruin, but now it appeared not to be the case.

It seemed something was concealed here.

Standing still, lost in thought, Jelia decided to return to the other end of the passage, where she had first appeared.

If Ali found a way in, that was likely where he would show up.

Since there wasn't much here besides a cave, waiting there seemed the best option.

Sheathing her short knife, Jelia took one last look at the cave.

Tightening her small cloak around her and pulling up the hood, she turned and left.

"Why leave?"

A voice erupted behind her!

There was another person here, aside from herself!

And yet, she had been completely unaware.

Without turning, Jelia's hand instinctively reached for the hilt of her short knife.

"Why won't you turn to look at me?"

The voice continued, sounding like a young man's—unremarkable yet not unpleasant to the ear.

Taking a deep breath, Jelia pressed on.

She recalled a creature Ali had once mentioned.

To call it an animal seemed a stretch; to label it a spirit, somewhat impolite.

Thus, "creature" was the only term that seemed fitting without error.

These beings thrived in shadowy environments, their method of reproduction a mystery.

All that was known was that wandering these realms, one might occasionally hear unfamiliar voices—those voices belonged to them.

Much like the lure of an anglerfish, anyone who heard and turned towards the voice would, in that instant, become host to one of these entities.

This parasitic bond might not be fatal, but it would render the host significantly weakened for an extended period.

Their immunity would plummet to critical lows, leaving them susceptible to illness and possibly death!

This phenomenon explained why many adventurers, upon returning from exploring sealed ruins, succumbed to sickness and died.

Due to this unique behavior, all adventurers had come to call them "Plague Spirits."

Though Plague Spirits were dangerous, dealing with them was not difficult.

They existed somewhere between spirit and physical entity, unable to directly interact with the physical world, meaning they had no fighting capacity.

To parasitize, they needed to shake the victim's spirit, with fear being their preferred method.

Therefore, before a Plague Spirit could complete its parasitism, its greatest ability was merely to startle you.

Understanding this, along with proper mental preparation, meant there was no need to pay them any mind; one could simply walk away with their head down.

These creatures almost lacked sentience, merely drifting towards living beings unconsciously.

That's exactly what Jelia did.

With one hand on her knife and the other holding her hood, she walked into the passage without looking back.

But the eerie voice didn't fade; it followed her, sometimes distant, sometimes near, interspersed with the sound of breathing.

"Wait for me!"

"Why are you walking so fast... wait for me."

"Who are you?"

"How did you get here?"

"Do you know the way out?"

With each phrase, Jelia sped up, eventually breaking into a run.

Yet the Plague Spirit relentlessly followed, its breathing growing heavier.

"Wait... wait for me!"

"Don't... don't... don't leave... don't leave me behind!"

"Little girl!"

Finally, Jelia saw the wall that had been in her sight right from the beginning, signaling the end of the passage.

Yet, the Plague Spirit was still panting behind her!

Wait...panting?

Should a being that exists between physical form and spirit actually breathe?

Or could it be that Plague Spirits are capable of mimicking such sounds?

This didn't align with what Ali had described.

What was going on?

With these thoughts in mind, and facing a dead end ahead, Jelia decided to halt and wait for this peculiar Plague Spirit to catch up, to see the situation for what it was.

After all, Plague Spirits themselves aren't fatally dangerous, and being parasitized by one wasn't a guaranteed death sentence.

If that Plague Spirit dared to follow her in such a neurotic manner, she was ready to let it learn what half-orc rage meant.

After a brief wait, Jelia heard heavy footsteps approaching from behind.

Footsteps?

Footsteps!

Since when did Plague Spirits have footsteps!

Disregarding the risk of being parasitized, Jelia swiftly drew her knife and turned around, her gaze piercing through the dim haze at the end of the passage.

Two green lights flickered to life, revealing a slim figure advancing with a floating gait.

Jelia's lips were tightly pressed, her facial muscles tense.

She had never killed anyone, but for the sake of self-

preservation, she was not averse to staining her hands with blood.

The figure, gasping for air, locked its gaze firmly on Jelia, stopping about seven or eight meters away.

"You sure run fast..."

"Were you the one chasing me?"

Jelia scrutinized the figure before her, her eyes moving up and down the silhouette.

The figure before her appeared to be a subhuman, crowned with a pair of wolf ears, yet his body was so gaunt it nearly resembled a skeleton.

Only his eyes shone unusually bright, reminiscent of a person starved for days suddenly beholding a feast.

This was a completely enclosed space; having circled the underground lake just moments ago, Jelia had not detected any other life forms besides herself.

This meant that this Werewolf likely had nothing to eat here.

Extreme hunger drives humans to cannibalism, but what about a half-orc? Jelia felt a chill creep up her spine, and she instinctively took a half-step back.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"What do I want?"

The figure looked at Jelia, a strange smile playing across his face.

"In a place like this, at a time like this, with just the two of us, what do you think I could possibly want?"

Jelia retreated another half-step, her back arching slightly, resembling a leopard ready to pounce.

Though she hadn't formally learned combat techniques, half-

orcs are inherently battle-ready.

The moment she grasped the knife handle, she became acutely aware of every inch of the blade, from tip to spine.

A longer reach grants strength, a shorter one risks danger.

While weapons inherently carry strengths and weaknesses, the outcome ultimately depends on the hands wielding them.

"Stay back! Or I'll be forced to defend myself," Jelia warned, her eyes coldly fixed on the figure.

The figure paused, seemingly surprised by Jelia's firm resistance.

His body swayed slightly, and he took a step forward, hands slightly raised in a gesture of peace.

"I just want to get out of here! Is even such a simple wish something you're unwilling to help with? We're both trapped here now. If we don't want to die in this place, you must cooperate with me!"

"Get out? Cooperate?"

The shadowy figure's words stirred something in Jelia; he seemed to know something about this place.

"You came in here without knowing anything?"

The look in the figure's eyes shifted slightly, turning somewhat somber, but then, as if a thought struck him, he sighed, and the gloom in his eyes dispersed.

"Forget it, at this point, whether I speak of it or not is already irrelevant."

"This place is a deception."

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