The Academy's Terminally Ill Side Character

The portal shimmered to life in front of us with a low, humming thrum, casting a pale blue glow over the group. One by one, they stepped through—some confidently, others with a hint of hesitation in their eyes.

I followed just after Leo.

Crossing through felt like stepping into ice water. My breath hitched for a second as the world warped around me—sound dulled, vision distorted—and then, just like that, we were on the other side.

The Outer Land.

A sharp wind cut across my face, dry and oddly metallic, carrying with it the scent of scorched earth and something fouler—rot, maybe. The sky was overcast, thick with clouds that pulsed faintly, almost like a heartbeat. The trees—if you could even call them that—were skeletal things twisted into unnatural angles, their bark like flaking obsidian.

"Cheery place," someone muttered behind me.

"Stay sharp," Leo said, scanning the landscape.

I took a moment to pull up the mental map I'd memorized the night before. The dungeon was buried beneath this corrupted land, hidden under corrupted tree that has face of human. If I hadn't known what to look for—well, we could've wandered for days without finding anything.

Leo gave me a slight nod, wordlessly prompting me to take the lead.

"Alright," I said, pointing toward the northeast. "We head that way. About two clicks from here, there's a dead tree that has face of human, the dungeon's entrance is hidden beneath it."

"And what makes you so sure?" Trent muttered, still glaring at me.

"Because I did my homework," I replied dryly. "You should try it sometime."

He stepped forward, looking like he was about to argue again, but Leo placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Let's move. Save the drama for after the mission."

That shut him up. For now.

We moved in formation—Leo at the front, me just behind, Trent stalking somewhere close enough to watch my back but not close enough to talk.

Monsters didn't attack right away. Not yet. That was the thing with corrupted zones—they were quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that made you double-check your weapon straps and wonder if something was watching from just beyond the fog.

And something was.

I could feel it. The wrongness of the air, the shift of pressure like we were walking into the lungs of a sleeping beast.

After about fifteen minutes of trekking through the warped terrain, we finally reached our destination.

A clearing. Quiet. Desolate. One massive, rotting tree stood in the middle—twisted, hollow, and very, very dead.

Trent was the first to speak.

"There's no damn dungeon here," he muttered, scowling as he kicked at a patch of brittle grass. "Just this old-ass tree. Tch."

I didn't even flinch. "This is the dungeon."

He turned to me, frowning like I'd just insulted his mother.

"What? Are you blind? All I see is dirt and a corpse of a tree."

"I said we're here," I replied, keeping my voice level. "What's wrong, Trent? Ears full of fat? My bad—I'll speak slower next time so you can keep up."

That got a pfft from Leo, who'd been studying the surroundings but couldn't help himself.

Trent's face turned bright red.

"Watch it, punk."

I gave him a mock-thoughtful look. "You know, for someone who contributes absolutely nothing to our navigation, you sure have a lot of opinions about the destination."

Leo tried to stifle another laugh and failed. "Okay, okay, that's enough," he said, still grinning. "Let's stay focused. If he says the entrance is here, then we check."

Trent kept grumbling under his breath, but he didn't argue further.

I walked up to the dead tree, running my hand along the bark. It was cold to the touch—unnaturally so. The fibers had a strange texture, like dried muscle rather than wood.

The tree was dead.

That much was obvious—twisted bark, no leaves, roots like claws gripping the ground. But if I remembered right, this was it.

This was the entrance to the hidden dungeon.

I crouched near the gnarled roots, letting my fingers brush the largest one—the one that snaked deep underground like a buried vein.

The moment I touched it, the whole thing began to tremble.

A low, strange vibration pulsed through the ground. Not just a reaction—more like a request.

Or a demand.

The others instantly moved into a defensive stance.

—Woiosh!

Energy whipped through the air.

"What the hell?" someone muttered.

"I've never seen anything like this."

"Everyone, weapons out! Get ready for a fight!" Leo barked.

While they scrambled to prepare for some kind of ambush, I kept my eyes on the tree.

It wasn't attacking. It wasn't even hostile.

It was… asking.

The tree wanted something.

Life force.

That was the key. I remembered now—the hidden dungeon's entrance required a sacrifice. Not blood, not magic. Life itself.

It was absurd.

You couldn't share it. Couldn't split it among the group. It had to come from one person. Start to finish.

And if anyone pulled away or chickened out halfway through, the entrance would reject us completely. No second chances.

Which meant...

Only I could open this dungeon.

Primal Qi? Life force? Whatever name you gave it—let it take what it needed.

I had more than enough.

Without hesitation, I pressed my palm against the root and pushed.

A quiet hum started in my chest. Then a dull ache.

My life force began to drain—slow at first, then steadily faster.

No dramatic effects. No glowing veins or sudden age lines. My body stayed the same. But I could feel it—the loss. Like something deep inside me was being unraveled, thread by thread.

The tree responded immediately.

It twitched, then shuddered violently.

Creaks echoed through the forest like bones grinding against each other.

Then… silence.

A moment later, it let out a low, confused moan—Wooo…?—as if unsure what to do next. It tried to draw more from me, but the ritual was strict. It had taken its fill. The life force of one person. No more, no less.

I exhaled, steadying my breath.

The bark began to split.

Green buds sprouted along its limbs. Leaves unfolded, trembling like newborn things.

And then, the outer layer of the tree crumbled away.

Right where its base had been, a circular gate slowly pushed up from the ground—ancient stone rimmed with glowing veins of silver, pulsing with dormant magic now reawakened.

The others stared.

"What the... How did you do that?"

"You just revived a dead tree."

Even the usually quiet mage girl looked stunned, her wide eyes locked onto me.

I shrugged like it was nothing.

"Dungeon entrance gimmick," I said, brushing dirt off my hands. "Nothing special."

Her gaze didn't waver.

"You revived a dead tree."

"Come on," I said, already walking toward the gate. "If I could do that, I'd be a High Elf or something. You really think I've got that kind of talent?"

They followed, hesitantly at first.

The silence behind me was thick with questions no one dared ask yet.

Fine by me. Let them wonder.

They didn't need to know where I'd learned this stuff.

Let them think it was luck. Or intuition. Or some forgotten skill.

As long as we got inside—and I got what I came for—I didn't care what they believed.

This was only the beginning.

And the deeper we went, the more useful I'd become.