"So… golem-type enemies, huh."
Gapar drew his Sword, the blade glowing faintly like scattered starlight.
"Definitely a mage's style. Those guys love tinkering with junk like this."
They were nothing but soulless objects. How could things like this possibly match his battle-hardened body?
He tightened his grip on the Sword. He could have wiped out the enemies instantly, but after a moment's thought, he decided the sword's flashy battle-skill effects suited a magic classroom perfectly.
So he chose to eliminate the puppet soldiers using his battle skills.
I should start carrying a recording stone, he thought. I could film my handsome fighting and keep it as a souvenir.
The puppet soldier holding a spear rushed forward, already right in front of him. The sharp spear thrust out fiercely.
For Gapar, it was far too slow.
With a casual swing, he cut both puppet and spear cleanly in half.
The azure slash continued past it, slicing the monster behind it in two as well. The visual effect was quite pleasing.
The only regret was that he had deliberately held back to enjoy himself longer. Otherwise, that single strike would have cleared the field.
"As always, golems are sluggish," he said, sidestepping another slash. "Why do mages always research these things? They'd be better off developing elemental creatures."
The Sword's skill activated again, beautiful sword-light flashing continuously among the puppet soldiers.
One puppet soldier, cut in half but still twitching, tried a sneak attack. Just as its straight sword was about to hit Gapar, his figure exploded into black smoke and instantly reappeared midair.
This move really never got old. It could even phase him briefly to dodge attacks—perfect for thrill-seekers.
He slashed downward, splitting the puppet soldier vertically in two, and activated the move again.
But this time, something went wrong.
As he leapt high into the air, before he could adjust into a more dramatic "mountain-splitting strike" pose, he noticed something strange behind the melee puppet soldiers.
The ones holding repeating crossbows were twitching like malfunctioning machines.
It broke before I even attacked?
Gapar shook his head. Looks like the Sein Dungeon wasn't perfect after all. Even it had trash-tier monsters.
But in the next instant, the puppet soldiers suddenly began spinning wildly at high speed. A human would die instantly trying that—but puppets didn't care.
"Da-da-da-da—!"
Along with the spinning came the rattling of their rapid-fire crossbows.
A storm of arrows burst out in every direction, forming a 360-degree barrage with no blind spots.
Completely insane.
Repeating-crossbow puppet soldiers—nicknamed Elden Mini Bow!
Gapar had to adjust midair to block arrows. Getting shot while airborne was miserable.
He thought about grabbing puppet soldiers as shields after landing—but then remembered their hollow bodies couldn't block arrows at all.
Damn you, Sein Dungeon! Was this part of your plan too?!
When he landed, the nearest puppet soldiers started spinning as well.
Their bizarre poses and insane attack speed turned the scene into utter chaos. Even Buddha would probably close his eyes at such a sight.
Reduce the attack speed of Bow and the Ring a bit, split it into dozens of pieces—that's what these puppet soldiers felt like.
The moment Gapar landed—no, even before his feet touched the ground—he was dragged into the whirlwind.
Clang-clang-clang!
The corridor echoed with nonstop metal strikes.
Yes, Gapar could still parry even in this situation.
His sword moved so fast that even afterimages couldn't be seen. Without his powerful physique, he'd already be a punching bag.
When danger struck, people instinctively fell back on their most familiar fighting style. His was parrying.
He clashed with the puppet soldiers for two seconds before snapping back to his senses.
His face twisted—not from fear, but from heartache for his Sword.
Damn it, what mage designed these puppet soldiers?! In just a few seconds, I can feel the blade losing sharpness! It might snap at any moment!
He absolutely didn't want that. Even if he got hurt, he had to protect the sword.
So—
"Whoosh!"
He threw the weapon high into the air, tore off his loose shirt to reveal his muscular body, and prepared to dismantle these hateful things with his bare hands.
Of the hundred martial arts, this one is called abandoning formalities.
However…
Just as he was about to fight barehanded, the puppet soldiers all stopped at once.
The whirlwind lasted only a short time—ending the moment he abandoned formalities.
"…."
His raised arms hung awkwardly in midair.
It felt like gathering a million horsepower for a final punch—only for the enemy to suddenly commit suicide.
Punching cotton. Power with nowhere to go.
Moments later, Gapar stepped over the scattered puppet fragments and entered the other magic classrooms.
If hidden doors existed, striking the walls should reveal them.
He picked up a puppet's sword and unleashed a 360-degree circular slash, sweeping every corner of the classroom.
If there was a mechanism, it would appear immediately.
It did.
Glintstone shards rained from the ceiling.
A small flame tornado appeared in the upper-left corner.
A crackling lightning orb formed in the lower-left.
From the right corners, blue vines shot out to entangle him—mixed with poison.
Hidden traps really were inside the classroom, and his no-blind-spot attack triggered them all at once.
Compared to the puppet whirlwind earlier, this was a true hellscape.
When Gapar finally walked out, his upper clothes were gone, and his once-dashing gray hair now bore a stylish black scorch mark.
He would never again say the Sein Dungeon lacked creativity. Its traps were authentically disgusting.
It had clearly predicted adventurers would search for hidden doors—and set hidden traps triggered the same way.
And if two or more traps activated, all traps fired together.
Designed specifically to counter people like Gapar.
Of course, if someone bombarded the room from outside with magic, traps wouldn't matter.
But there were punishments for that too.
"Clack… clack…"
The moment Gapar stepped out, more puppet soldiers dropped from the ceiling.
This time he didn't wait. He dismantled them instantly.
Surely puppet drops wouldn't trigger after every classroom… right?
Actually, no.
When he knocked around another classroom, more puppets spawned. Their respawn was time-based.
If he couldn't find a way out, monsters would harass him endlessly until he ran out of resources.
When puppet soldiers dropped, the ceiling opened. Gapar tried jumping up, but above was only white mist.
Touching it instantly teleported him back near the lift.
So the ceiling was filled with teleportation spells?
Even cutting it open didn't remove the mist. The dungeon blocked shortcuts completely.
After endless traps and monsters—like an endless August—he finally struck a corner that opened a hidden door.
"When I get out, I'm publishing this stupid door's location," he muttered darkly as he entered.
Of course, hidden door locations were random.
Behind it was the classroom that couldn't be opened earlier. A glowing light appeared on the podium.
At that moment, he understood.
Only by entering through the hidden door—the dungeon-approved method—could he obtain the reward.
Break the door by force, and you get nothing.
[Transfer Certificate]
[To escape their natural enemy, mages built an otherworldly space outside reality. The Transfer Certificate is required to enter it. Infuse magic to reach the mages' world.]
[They trapped orthodox magic in the past, praying for their enemy's disappearance.]
[For single use only. The mages do not wish many to leave.]
Was their "natural enemy" that mysterious "thing"?
What frightened the mages so much?
Gapar infused his meager magic into the certificate. His figure flickered.
In an instant, the scene changed.
An identical corridor—but this time it had an end. Two robed figures wearing stone-like helmets stood there holding staffs. Mages, probably.
More excitingly, paths branched left and right. No more loops.
Had he finally reached a normal area?
"Ah… please stop waving that terrible force… it is a blasphemous thing even gods despise…"
A hoarse whisper sounded near his ear. A spirit clung behind him, repeating that one line.
Gapar wasn't a scholar. He just memorized it.
The voice alerted the mages ahead, so he slipped into a nearby classroom to observe first.
[New student? Come here. Let me assign you a mentor.]
A lazy voice appeared directly in his mind. Telepathy?
On the podium sat a pointed hat, its folds forming a face.
[Don't want a mentor? Planning to self-study?]
"…Who are you?"
[I am the Sorting Hat. I assign mentors. Now put me on.]
"What's a mentor?" Gapar asked curiously.
[A mentor is a mentor. You will learn and inherit their magic—even become them.]
Now that sounded exciting. Fearless as always, he put on the hat.
The hat muttered names:
[Logan… Aldia… Sellen… Ranni… Radahn…]
[Frieren… Ainz Ooal Gown… Kinomoto Sakura… Aoko Aozaki…]
One name after another. Gapar's palms grew sweaty.
He felt nervous—like when a sword instructor chose students in childhood.
[Ah-ha. I've found the best mentor for you.]
He sat up straight.
[Your mentor is Gandalf!]