Limitless Evolution: I'm The New Dragon God?-Chapter 50: Arctic Den

Upon passing through the towering Iron Gate of Belfort City, Ryu stepped onto the rugged dirt path that stretched endlessly toward the horizon.

A cool morning breeze brushed against his face as he pulled out a folded parchment from his belt pouch.

It was the map he had purchased for 10 silver coins. Though crude and lacking in detail, it displayed the major landmarks and terrain features surrounding Belfort City like rivers, hills, extremely dangerous forests, hunting zones, and most importantly, dungeon locations.

Unfolding it fully, he sat on a nearby stone, letting his eyes sweep across the faded ink markings. He traced the route with his finger, studying each detail carefully.

Among the marked places, one stood out in particular. Encircled by a ring of snowy peaks and located just 7 miles northeast of the city, a dungeon was marked with a small blue symbol.

"Arctic Den..." he whispered.

It was a beginner-level dungeon, known among hunters for its abundance of ice-type magical creatures such as Ice Wolves, Crystal-Spined Wolves, and occasionally, juvenile Ice Serpents.

The temperature inside was rumored to be bitterly cold, but for Ryu, who still carried the legacy of the Variant Frost Dragon in his bloodline, this environment would be nothing short of a natural home.

His breath fogged slightly in the morning air as he rose to his feet.

"Perfect," he said with a grin. "Let’s hunt some prey."

Tucking the map away, he set off in the direction of the Arctic Den, the snow-dusted peaks already visible in the distance under the soft glow of the rising sun.

After a little more than ten minutes of brisk running, Ryu and the group arrived at the heart of the Frozen Peaks.

The environment was bone-chilling. Frost clung to every surface, coating jagged rocks and dead trees in glittering layers of white.

The ground crunched beneath their boots, snow packed thick beneath the hardened ice. Cold wind howled through narrow crevices, carrying with it a haunting echo that made even seasoned hunters grip their weapons tighter.

Jagged icicles hung like fangs from the overhangs, some the size of spears. Frozen mist floated through the air, partially obscuring the path ahead. A thick silence dominated the place, broken only by the crunch of footsteps and the occasional distant cry of an unseen beast.

Ryu took in the surroundings with narrowed eyes. His frost affinity made the cold bearable, even welcoming. He inhaled deeply, the crisp air burning through his lungs in a strangely invigorating way.

As Ryu arrived near the dungeon’s entrance, a chilling breeze swept past him. Before him stood a massive icy cavern, its jagged mouth wide open like the maw of a slumbering beast. Faint blue mist poured from within, and the air around the entrance crackled with cold mana.

Dozens of hunters had gathered at the dungeon gate, all clad in winter gear or enchanted armor. Some huddled in groups, discussing strategies. Others were checking equipment or feeding mana into their weapons. The atmosphere was tense, but filled with excitement.

Just as Ryu stepped forward to inspect the board beside the entrance, a round-faced young man with a thick scarf and a cheery grin waddled over.

"Hey, are you alone brother?" he asked.

Ryu nodded silently.

"You new? You look new. I’m Boro. Want to join our party? We need one more. Safer to dive in a group."

Ryu glanced at him, then at the group behind—two men and one woman, all appearing average in strength.

"Why me?"

"Because you have the rare Ice affinity. You’re practically chilling in this weather. You also look fast. And like... not dumb," Boro said with a chuckle. "Come on, we split the loot fairly. No backstabbing."

Ryu’s expression didn’t change, but his mind was already wary.

"No backstabbing? As if I’d believe that from some strangers," he thought, scoffing internally.

He wasn’t foolish. Even if they were being honest, he couldn’t afford to trust anyone. His path wasn’t built for shared risks or split rewards.

"I appreciate it. But I prefer to dive solo," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for debate.

Boro blinked, genuinely surprised. He didn’t seem angry, just a bit amused.

"Ohh... So you’re one of those guys. The lone wolves. Got it. But hey, if you die in there, I’ll make sure to grab your sword and give it a good home," he grinned and walked away, rejoining his group.

Ryu stood still for a moment, watching the snow swirl lazily in the air.

"Seeking death?" he echoed in his mind, lips curling into a faint smile.

"No. I’m not seeking death. I’m carving a legend... with my own hands."

"Look at that creep, smiling all to himself."

"Did he reject your kindness, Boro?"

Boro’s teammates shot glances at Ryu, their faces clearly displeased.

But Boro only chuckled, brushing snow from his shoulder. "It’s fine, guys. One rejection won’t kill the team spirit. We’ll just invite someone else and clear this dungeon on high difficulty. Then we’ll rake in those juicy rewards."

"Yeah, let’s go! Cheers to Team Big Dogs!" one of them shouted, pumping a fist in the air.

’Big Dogs? Really? Couldn’t you pick a better name?’ Ryu smiled faintly, amused by their enthusiasm.

But soon, that brief smile faded as his gaze returned to the front.

The dungeon gate loomed ahead. Tall, arched, and made of a strange icy stone that shimmered under the cloudy sky. People passed in and out of it like a market street, and that alone raised questions in Ryu’s mind.

"Are the parties getting assigned their own separate channels? Or are they all being thrown into a single shared space?"

From the many system novels he’d read during long hospital days, he knew both types existed. One was ideal for solo dives, allowing each team their own isolated dungeon instance. The other, however, was a nightmare for soloists—where every other party inside was a potential threat.

He couldn’t be sure which it was until he entered. And so, mentally, he prepared himself for either outcome.

Every hunter around him, friendly or not, might turn into an enemy inside.

He tightened his grip on the worn leather handle of his F-grade sword. His boots crunched against the frosty ground as he stepped forward.

Some of the nearby hunters glanced at him with curiosity, perhaps wondering why a lone kid with secondhand gear would walk into a dungeon with such arrogance.

But Ryu wasn’t arrogant. He walked with calm, steady steps, like a soldier headed into a war he already accepted.

On the surface, he looked fearless. But inside?

He was afraid.

And that fear? Sometimes it is the key to survival.

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