Chapter 292
Delphyne’s roar echoed throughout the eighteenth floor, a tempest of flame and fury.
Every gout of its fire caused the very ground to tremble, yet in the dragon’s eyes, a flicker of something beyond mere rage, a calculating glint, persisted.
“Raaaahh!!”
Ais’s face was a mask of primal fury.
Cloaked by Ariel, her body became a whirlwind of steel, granting her extraordinary mobility. She launched herself, a humanoid projectile, all the way to the monster’s face.
Delphyne swung its massive claws and tail in a desperate attempt to swat her down, but Ais met every blow with a hurricane of ceaseless slashes, repelling them as if they were nothing.
The instant her boots touched down, she was airborne again, a relentless tempest against the beast’s fiery might.
Her unyielding attacks kept the dragon off balance, forcing it to howl in frustrated anger.
“Ais! Come back! …Curses, she’s not listening to me! Her anger is in control!” Riveria yelled, her voice strained.
“Not even my axe can handle a beast of this size!” Gareth roared back, his frustration palpable as his mighty weapon bounced harmlessly off the creature’s thick, obsidian-like scales, sending dull thuds echoing across the cavernous floor.
Riveria’s magic fared little better; Delphyne’s incendiary breath vaporized her spells before impact, and she dared not unleash her more potent incantations for fear of accidentally striking Ais’s erratically moving form.
Dimitra was in the same predicament; her lightning magic arced unpredictably, making her a definite threat to the rampaging Ais.
Only Vasileios remained still, his stance prepared, eyes fixed on Riveria, waiting for a plan, his own magic held in abeyance for the opportune moment.
Indeed, only Ais had found any success, her relentless assaults keeping the monstrous dragon in a defensive posture.
“Wait, look…!” Dimitra suddenly pointed, her voice laced with surprise.
The dragon’s scales began to bubble, like a vast, boiling cauldron.
Steam hissed into the air, accompanied by an ominous purple light.
Then, before their very eyes, Delphyne’s multitude of small wounds closed, the cracked scales reforming with terrifying speed.
“It’s healing itself…!” Riveria spat, her voice tight with disbelief.
“As soon as we land a solid hit, this happens!” Gareth growled, clenching his jaw in frustration. “Unless we concentrate our attacks, we’ll never cut a path to its magic stone!”
Their opponent was nigh invincible to begin with, but even when they managed to inflict damage, the creature’s regeneration rendered it meaningless.
The beast’s vitality seemed bottomless, and half-hearted attacks would not suffice.
The only way through was to rely on the strength of numbers, just as Finn’s plan had dictated. But pacifying Ais without leaving themselves vulnerable to the dragon seemed impossible. Besides, with her tiny body surrounded by gale-speed winds, there was currently no way to even approach her.
“Ais is giving it everything she’s got. It’s unfortunate, but right now her anger is the only thing keeping that monster at bay,” Riveria conceded, watching the young girl with a torment of worry etched on her face.
“But it won’t last!” Gareth cried.
“She’s using more power than her body can handle!”
True to her reputation as a monster slayer, Ais’s abilities were specialized in defeating them. Only Riveria and Gareth truly grasped the depths of the gift, which Ais drew upon with zero regard for the consequences.
With every wind-infused slash, the beast was forced to defend, but with every attack, Ais crept closer to her own self-destruction.
“We have to stop her!” roared Gareth, raising his axe and dashing after her… when all of a sudden, he stopped dead.
“What’s the matter, Gareth?!” Riveria demanded, spinning her head.
Gareth wasn’t looking at Ais, nor the dragon, but in the complete opposite direction, toward the eastern end of the floor.
There, in the distance, through the haze of smoke and fire, Riveria, Vasileios, and Dimitra glimpsed several figures rising from the blasted terrain.
Their arrival, heralded by a subtle tremor that wasn't Delphyne's, felt like an abrupt shift in the suffocating dynamic of the battle.
“What the…?!”
…………………………………………………………………………………………………
“Agaris Alvesynth!”
Alise’s chant summoned a torrent of raw magical energy that burst forth from her body, followed by the sharp, concussive sound of dynamite.
Her arm, her legs, and her sword—all instantly blazed with a fierce, unstable glow, the exact crimson hue of her hair.
“A fire enchantment?” Alfia stood utterly still, her posture one of bored indifference.
“Is that the best you have?”
“You bet your butt it is! A pure, pretty, and perfect girl like me needs a pure, pretty, and perfect spell to match! What do you think? Now you know why they call me the Scarlett Harnell!” Alise’s proud expression lasted only a heartbeat before she snapped back to focus.
“Form up, girls! Start operation Float Like a Butterfly, Sting Like a Bee!”
“I am not a girl though,” Nikolaos protested softly from the front rank, but the urgency of the moment drowned him out.
The squad, perpetually gender unbalanced, responded with disciplined speed, forming a nested ring around their leader.
“Three in the back, six in the middle, and four in the front. I suppose they have to bolster their defense now that the elf and the dwarf are not with them.”
From his perch atop a crystalline bluff, Erebus observed the unfolding conflict.
Only four of his subordinates remained beside him, both visibly exhausted.
“They’re not doing so bad holding their own against a Level Seven like Alfia,” he mused. “Especially considering one good hit from her will tear any of them in half.”
The team’s performance was nothing short of exceptional.
They were fighting an adversary four levels beyond their own highest capabilities.
For any standard adventurer, a gap of even a single level was reason enough to abandon the field; bridging four levels was akin to fighting a foe hailing from another plane of existence.
Erebus might as well have been watching thirteen bunny rabbits take on a fire-breathing dragon.
“But their teamwork is extraordinary,” he went on, a smile spreading across his face.
“That is an adventurer’s greatest asset. That’s the one thing that gives them a chance to go up against unwinnable odds and come out on top.”
Watching their coordination somehow plug the immense level gap was fascinating.
When Alise lunged forward, the mages immediately covered her assault.
When Lyra and the other support crew in the center of the formation launched their projectiles, Ryuu, Kaguya, and Clair were there with perfect timing, pressing the immediate advantage. Healing spells and buffs, cast constantly from the rear, kept the front lines fighting fit.
This was the true distillation of what adventurers were capable of: the courage and the faith to place their lives entirely in their allies’ hands, knowing one slip could spell doom for all. Preparations—from Perseus’s accessories to the advanced magic of Riveria —were the accumulated experience of a thousand desperate raids.
This fight was essentially a live dungeon raid, a combined effort to dismantle a boss.
“They’re doing well, even accounting for Alfia’s little handicap,” Erebus grinned.
“Now, where will things go from here, I wonder?”
But the witch’s answer, as for all things, was the same single word.
“Gospel.”
The word produced not a visible flash, but an utterly invisible, yet deafening, wall of sound.
“Grh?!”
Clair managed to take only a glancing blow, but the force was enough to toss her violently through the air.
Alise wasted no time in issuing the immediate command.
“Maryu! Healing!”
“Leave it to me!”
The eldest member of the Astraea familia cast her spell without delay.
Curative light enveloped not only Clair, but also Asta, Nikolaos, and Noin, all of whom had sustained immediate—and potentially fatal wounds.
“Don’t forget all the potions and elixirs Finn gave us! Just stay alive and I’ll heal you right back up!” yelled Neze from the middle rank.
Along with Noin and Iska, she was spending the battle cycling through curative after curative. Her utility belt even contained magic potions, ensuring the mages on the back rank wouldn’t suffer from mind down during sustained casting.
‘This focus on magical resistance must be the pallum’s doing’ Alfia thought, annoyed.
‘My sound is not penetrating. Especially with that high elf’s protection in the way’
Silently, she observed the intricate actions of her opponents.
‘Their ceaseless attacks are testing my nerves. Plus, they are cautious. They neither stray too far, nor come too close. Instead, they constantly force a response, whittling down my patience’
She could come to only one conclusion regarding their strategy.
“They are trying to tire me out,” she said, her voice devoid of inflection.
Just then, the air around Alfia shimmered, not with magic, but with the sheer impossibility of her movements.
A blur of steel, cold and swift, erupted from behind her, aiming for the witch’s spine.
Yet, Alfia merely shifted, an effortless, almost lazy sway of her body, and the attacker’s blade sliced through empty space, a chilling whistle the only mark of its passage.
Kaguya’s jaw clenched, her frustration a bitter taste in her mouth.
“She’s a monster!” she spat, watching her meticulously aimed strike fail to so much as stir a single strand of Alfia’s ashen hair.
“How many attacks has she avoided now?!”
Their team, split from their initial expedition, had been forced into a desperate defensive dance. Despite the grim odds, Kaguya and the other front-liners had hurled themselves at their foe, each attempt a bold defiance of fate.
Yet, the Level 7 witch remained unflappable, her face serene, not a single bead of sweat betraying the intensity of their assault.
Suddenly, a concussive wave of pure sound ripped through the dungeon, gouging deep furrows in the earth.
Kaguya reacted instantly, twisting away, but the sheer force of it still caught her, tossing her backward like a rag doll.
She landed hard, thrown clear of the immediate fray, the clang of her armor echoing in the cavern.
Scrambling to her feet, sword already singing from its sheath, she met a colossal, flame-wreathed monster that lunged from the gloom.
Her blade flashed, severing its monstrous head with a decisive swing.
Wiping a mixture of blood and sweat from her face, Kaguya plunged back into the swirling smoke and cinders, her gaze fixed on rejoining her embattled allies.
She knew, with a certainty that chilled her to the bone, that one direct hit would be her end.
“We can’t take this much longer,” she muttered, her breath ragged.
“But that witch hasn’t even paused to catch her breath! If she doesn’t wear out soon, this will all be for…!”
“Oh, I see you’ve already started without me. My fault for arriving late, I suppose.”
A new voice, chillingly casual amidst the roar of battle, froze Kaguya mid-step.
Her head snapped around, her weapon held defensively.
The speaker was a man, his hair the color of boiling blood, stepping out of the shadows with an entourage of eight hardened troops.
It was Vito, the evils’ lieutenant.
His eyes, the color of twilight, scanned the chaotic scene with an unnerving calm.
“I was wondering why the first behemoth hadn’t yet reached the surface,” Vito mused, a cruel smile playing on his lips.
“Valletta was right; you people were here. Although it’s a bit concerning that the plan is being interrupted, I suppose I am glad the feast is far from over. I can’t wait to join in.”
“It’s you!” Kaguya growled, recognition burning away her caution.
She had fought this man in this very place barely two weeks prior.
“Why are you here?! Did you come via Babel?!”
“Oh, it hardly matters, does it? The fact is, I am here, and eager for our second dance.”
He opened one eye a sliver, flashing a fearless, predatory grin.
“Aren’t you?”
“Ah, Vito. You made it.”
The voice, ancient and resonant, drifted from the distance.
Vito’s keen eyes, those of Erebus’s devoted follower, quickly located his master, observing from a perilous vantage point high above.
“It is good to see you safe, my lord,” Vito declared, his words carrying meaning despite the vast, unpassable distance.
Vito's next words held a hidden warning.
“Pray do not do anything too reckless. You are liable to get scorched to ash sitting out in the open like that. That would mean the loss of my blessing, and I wouldn’t be able to enjoy my feast like that very much, would I?”
Vito’s focus returned to Kaguya, his lips curling into a wider, more unsettling grin.
Kaguya didn’t bother to hide her disdain.
“Back again, you disgusting cretin? I suppose the only reason you were down here that day was to scout things out?”
“Quite right,” replied Vito, his tone unconcerned.
“Sending a god into the dungeon is risky business, as I’m sure you’re aware. Everything had to be planned out perfectly to avoid any little mishaps.”
He spoke with a chilling candor, as though their entire, desperate struggle was merely a calculated variable.
“However, meeting you back then was a strange twist of fate,” he continued, his gaze intense. “Perhaps our paths are destined to cross?”
“I sincerely hope not,” Kaguya retorted, her voice laced with venom.
“Having to see you once is bad enough. Get out of my sight before I throw up.”
She grimaced at him through the billowing smoke and heat, the stench of freshly spilled monster blood thick in the air.
Just then, Lyra’s strained voice cut through the din.
“Kaguya, what are you doing?! …Hey, what?! More enemies?! Argh, that’s the last thing we need!” Lyra, spotting the new threat, was about to rush over when Kaguya’s furious rebuke stopped her cold.
“Get back, Lyra! And don’t tell the others!”
The pallum girl froze, wide-eyed.
“If we let them split our focus, we’ll be overwhelmed! Besides, I am more than a match for this group of powerless fools!”
“Y-you’re unhinged! You can’t take them all by your….”
“Make up for my absence, pallum! Now go!” Kaguya’s voice cracked like a whip.
“You what?! How am I meant to fight for two people at once?!”
“Now!!”
“…Argh, fine!” Lyra finally relented, caving under Kaguya’s stern glare.
“But you owe me a drink back topside!”
The priority was the Level 7, Alfia.
Lyra knew that, and she also knew there wasn’t any room for error.
With a final, worried glance, she disappeared back through the curtain of steam, rejoining the desperate battle against the Silent Witch.
“Heh-heh-heh. I do hope you weren’t including me when you said ‘powerless fools,’” Vito taunted, a theatrical mock-hurt in his tone.
“Even a man like me has a sense of pride, you know.”
“Shut it, scum. Be grateful I even give you the time of day. I would like nothing more than to tear that witch’s head from her shoulders.”
A dauntless, defiant smile finally stretched Kaguya’s lips.
“But don’t think I forgot how you made fools of us all back then. I’ll cut you into ribbons, so I never have to see that smug grin of yours ever again!”
“Ha-ha-ha! What a foulmouthed young lady you are! Then let us dance, as you wish.”
On Vito’s cue, his subordinates surged forward, and the dance began in earnest.
The evilus on one side, and the cold steel of a Far Eastern blade on the other.
Three cultists charged simultaneously, two from either flank and one head-on, their poison-tipped swords glinting malevolently.
Kaguya moved like a phantom, her blade a blur.
She dispatched the flanking foes with two precise strikes, then pivoted, decapitating the frontal assailant before he could even register her movement.
Her steel found a fourth enemy dropping from above, bisecting him mid-air.
One cultist, writhing on the floor and coughing blood, reached for an explosive device strapped to his belt, but Kaguya’s foot slammed into his face, rendering him unconscious before he could complete his deadly act.
The hem of her kimono fluttered, a fleeting glimpse of crimson and silk before her blade carved oblivion.
Without even looking behind her, Kaguya spun, parrying a thrust aimed at her back with a clang of steel, then sliced her assailant’s stomach faster than his eyes could widen in surprise.
“Hrgh!”
“Gurgh?!”
Her sword, Higanbana, left blood droplets in its wake, aptly resembling fallen petals scattered across the scorched earth.
Forged in Orario with the sole purpose of cutting down villainy, its expertly crafted edge had carried Kaguya through countless battles.
Though shattered in her previous encounter with Alfia, its fragments had been recovered, reforged, and imbued with a renewed, grim purpose.
Five evilus servants now littered the dungeon floor, their lives extinguished.
Only four remained, including Vito himself.
Kaguya’s one-woman war raged on, while her friends were fighting the silent witch elsewhere.
She surged forward, her movements a whirlwind.
Vito’s attacks were on another level compared to those of his underlings, each strike imbued with chilling intent.
Yet, Kaguya subtly altered their trajectory, dodging the frustrated evilus’s onslaught with uncanny grace.
Enemy blades sliced through strands of her silken hair, leaving fine cuts in the cloth of her kimono, but the only look on Kaguya’s face was one of scorn and disdain.
Then, her sheath sang as she drew her sword, the air itself seeming to hum.
Flashing Blade: a technique of her accursed bloodline, an Iai slice that cut through three foes at once in an explosion of blinding speed.
“Gaaaaaghh!!”
Their bodies hit the floor with sickening thuds, and Kaguya wiped the sweat from her brow, her breathing heavy.
She directed her gaze forward once more at Vito, who stood completely unharmed, applauding slowly.
“Magnificent!” he praised, his smile chilling.
“What beauty and strength! Look at all these grown men and women who couldn’t keep up with one little girl! Am I the only half-decent dancer around these parts?”
A cold, brutal smile returned to Vito’s lips as he watched her struggle for breath.
“You must be getting tired by now, mustn’t you, princess?”
“…You repulse me. Shut your mouth!”
Steel clashed with steel once more, and the dance went on.
A/N: Feel free to read ahead on pat3on, donate and read 1 extra chapter as a free member.