Chapter 398
After the declaration, Draco’s smirk widened.
The "weak" comment was like a spark igniting a powder keg.
The air in the training ground didn’t just grow cold; it turned sharp.
It was the kind of cold that lived in the heart of a winter storm, where the wind moved so fast it felt like a blade.
Ais did not hesitate.
She knew better than anyone that against a man like Draco, hesitation was a death sentence.
Her lips moved, her voice like a ghostly whisper.
“Awaken, Tempest.”
Immediately, a violent eruption of translucent green wind exploded from her body.
It wasn't a gentle breeze.
It was a howling, predatory gale that wrapped around her like a living suit of armor.
The wind screamed, grinding against the floor and sending sparks flying where the air met the earth.
Her golden hair whipped wildly, and her eyes…..usually a calm, doll-like gold…..now burned with the intensity of a star.
Draco didn't move his feet.
He simply watched.
His silver hair began to glow with a faint, iridescent sheen, shifting toward molten red at the tips. He raised his hands, and his fingernails elongated into dark, obsidian-like claws.
“Come,” Draco said.
Ais vanished.
To Naaza and Miach, she simply ceased to exist.
There was only a crack of displaced air and a streak of green light.
Clang!
The sound was deafening.
Ais appeared directly in front of Draco, her rapier thrusting toward his throat with the speed of a lightning strike.
Draco didn't use a weapon to counter.
He didn't have to, he was the weapon.
He swiveled his hips just an inch, catching the side of the rapier’s blade with the back of his clawed fingers.
The friction created a shower of sparks that illuminated the chamber.
Ais didn’t stop.
She used the momentum of the parry to spin, her body.
Her wind-wrapped boots kicked off the very air, propelling her into a vertical climb before she dived back down.
She was a hurricane.
Ten strikes……Twenty…..Sixty.
Each one was aimed at a vital point.
Each one carried enough force to instantly kill a Level 5 adventurer.
However, her blade never found purchase.
Draco's movements were minimal, almost lazy, yet efficient.
He parried every lunge with his claws, the metallic tink-tink-tink sounding like a frantic clock.
‘She’s getting faster’ Draco thought, his mind dissecting her every move.
‘Her center of gravity is lower. She’s learned to use Ariel not just for speed, but as a physical weight to stabilize her strikes.’ He observed.
Ais felt as though she was fighting a wall.
No matter how fast she moved, Draco was already there.
She decided to raise the stakes.
She channeled more mind into the gale.
The wind around her turned into a razor-edged vortex.
“Drift,” Draco commanded softly.
Small orbs of crimson energy flickered into existence around him.
They were no larger than marbles, but they hummed with a terrifying density.
As Ais circled him at subsonic speeds, the orbs began to move.
They were compressed fireballs with a homing spell key…..basic in concept, but perfected by Draco’s immense magic capacity and control.
The red spheres trailed after Ais like hungry hounds.
She had to weave through them, her rapier flickering out to swat them away.
Each time her blade touched an orb, it didn't just dissipate; it exploded in a controlled burst of heat.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The shockwaves rocked the room.
Naaza shielded her eyes, her heart hammering against her ribs.
The speed was incomprehensible.
Ais soon realizing the orbs were a distraction, ignored the last three, letting her wind-armor deflect the explosions.
The gales hissed as they redirected the heat, the sheer pressure of Ariel keeping her skin from scorching.
She lunged again, but this time, she didn't aim only for his upper torso.
She aimed for his lower half too.
Draco smiled.
It was a proud, dangerous smile.
“Good,” he muttered.
Suddenly, a heavy, muscular limb whipped through the air.
Draco’s tail, thick and covered in obsidian scales, swept across the floor.
It moved with the weight of a falling tree and the speed of a whip.
Ais reacted instantly.
She jumped, using a burst of wind from her soles to hover for a fraction of a second.
But Draco had anticipated the jump.
“Burst,” he said, snapping his claws.
An orb he had planted earlier detonated.
It wasn't meant to kill her, but the pressure wave slammed into her back, forcing her downward.
Ais grunted.
She didn't hit the floor.
She tucked her body into a roll, her wind-cloak grinding against the stone like a saw blade, and popped back up.
She didn't lose a beat.
She was already charging again.
Forty seconds had passed.
Ais knew she only had one more opening.
She stopped her circular movement and stood still for a heartbeat.
The wind didn’t dissipate; it began to spiral inward, tightening around her rapier until the blade glowed with a blinding, vibrating green light.
The air in the room was being sucked toward her.
“Lil Rafaga!” she cried.
She lunged.
The attack was her ultimate move, designed to penetrate the thickest hides of the Deep Floors’ monsters.
It was a strike that broke the sound barrier before she even traveled half the distance.
Draco’s eyes narrowed.
This was the growth he wanted to see.
He didn't dodge.
He didn't parry.
He planted his feet and took a deep breath.
“Fire palm,” he whispered.
A shimmering orb of blue fire flickered on his palm.
Then he thrust his hand forward, palm open, meeting the tip of Ais’s wind-charged rapier head-on.
The collision was like a mountain collapsing.
A shockwave of force and heat rippled outward, blowing Naaza and Miach back toward the walls.
Bahamut, sitting on the ledge, simply laughed, her hair blowing back as she enjoyed the show. The sound was a continuous, high-pitched scream of metal against magic.
Ais pushed.
Her teeth were grit so hard they might crack.
She poured every ounce of her Level 5 strength, bolstered by her tempest, into that single point. The wind howled, trying to tear Draco’s arm apart, trying to find a gap in his defense.
But, Draco stood like sturdy pillar.
His feet didn't slide back an inch.
He looked into Ais’s eyes, seeing the fire, the desperation, and the sheer will to transcend her limits.
“Congratulations, Ais……you’ve reached the ceiling of your current level,” Draco said with a smile, his voice cutting through the roar of the wind as if it were nothing.
“But you are still fighting like someone trying to kill a monster. You need to fight like you are hunting a person”
He closed his hand, and grabbed the very tip of her rapier…..Desperate…..with his claw.
The wind shrieked one last time before Draco gave a sharp, controlled tug.
He pulled her off-balance and, in the same motion, let out a tiny, concentrated burst of magic from his palm.
It wasn't a lethal strike, just a light push.
The force hit Ais’s chest, neutralizing her forward momentum and sending her sliding back across the stone floor.
Her boots left smoking trails in the rock as she fought to stay upright.
The wind died down.
The howling stopped.
Ais stood twenty feet away, her chest heaving, sweat dripping from her chin.
Her rapier was trembling in her hand, not from fear, but from the force of the impact.
Draco stood in the center of the room.
His hair faded back to its normal shade.
His claws retracted.
He looked as if he had just finished a light jog.
Not a single scratch marked his skin, at least not from Ais.
And his bare chest didn't even show a blemish from her ultimate attack.
He glanced at the distant clock.
“Sixty seconds,” Draco said, a smile touching his lips.
“You lasted fifty-nine seconds longer than our last fight. Well done, Ais.”
Ais stared at him, her breath slowly returning to a normal rhythm.
She looked at her hand, then back at him.
The gap was still there.
It was a canyon, no an ocean.
But for the first time since meeting him, she felt like she had at least seen the other side.
“Still… too weak,” she managed to say, her voice raspy.
“Maybe,” Draco conceded.
He turned toward Naaza and Miach, who were both looking at the cracked floor and the scorched walls with wide, terrified eyes.
“But five years ago, you couldn't even last a second. Today, you broke that record by a large margin. That’s progress.”
Bahamut hopped down from her ledge, landing silently.
She walked over to Ais and poked her in the cheek.
“You really a cute child”
Ais blinked, confused by the comment, but she sheathed her backup rapier with a sharp clack. She bowed her head slightly toward Draco.
It was a gesture of respect…..the kind only warriors understood.
“Again,” Ais said.
“Next time. More than a minute.”
Draco chuckled, the sound deep and rich.
“I look forward to it. But first, let’s all have lunch. You look like you are about to collapse, and I’d rather not have Riveria come down here to scold me for breaking her favorite.” Draco teased, heading towards the stairs.
He did not want to imagine the cost of repairs for the training ground after their fight.
………………………………………………………………….
Around the same time, deep within the subterranean labyrinth on the forty-fourth floor of the dungeon, the air was thick with the scent of sulfur and scorched stone.
"Aaagh, these damn rock monsters!” Michalis grumbled, his voice echoing against the jagged cavern walls.
With a sharp thrust, he drove his blade into the core of a flame rock, lurching back as the creature hissed and crumbled into a pile of cooling soot.
“Less talking and more swinging,” Kaguya scolded, her eyes never leaving the shadows ahead. She moved fast, her discipline a sharp contrast to Michalis’s mounting frustration.
Alise let out a long, theatrical sigh, wiping a smear of soot from her forehead with the back of her glove.
“Ugh, I really just want to go back home. This is no way for pretty girls to live….covered in soot and monster guts for days on end.”
“Endure it for a little longer. We should reach the surface within a week if we maintain this pace,” Vasiliki consoled.
The Bahamut Familia had initially planned for an extensive expedition into the deepest reaches of the dungeon.
However, their ambitions had been cut short on the forty-ninth floor by a huge turn of events that nearly cost them their lives.
According to every logistical record and spawn pattern they possessed, Balor, the Monster Rex of the forty-ninth floor, was not scheduled to spawn for several more months.
Yet, destiny had been unkind.
Upon their arrival, they were met not with an empty chamber, but with the towering, oppressive silhouette of the Level 8 titan.
Although the Bahamut Familia was renowned for its strength, a confrontation with a Level 8 Monster Rex was an ordeal they were not fully equipped to handle.
However, they had fought with everything they had, ultimately claiming a pyrrhic victory that burned through the vast majority of their supplies.
Honestly, it was a miracle that no one died, but there were serious injuries.
With their potions depleted and their equipment battered, they were forced to abandon their descent.
Reluctantly, they had packed their remaining gear and began the grueling ascent back to the surface, satisfied at least with the rare spoils they had claimed.
They moved forward with the singular goal of rest, entirely unaware that a far greater surprise was waiting for them on the surface.
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