Bete had completely lost it.
His muscles coiled like overwrought springs, and a terrifying aura exploded from his frame, causing the stone floor beneath his feet to spiderweb under the pressure. He didn't bother drawing a weapon; in his eyes, using a blade against a piece of trash like this was beneath him—fists were more than enough.
Bete's figure blurred into a streak of grey lightning. His right leg, wreathed in the howling green winds of his magic, lashed out in a vicious whip-kick aimed squarely at Lynn's head. The air shrieked in protest of the force.
That single kick was powerful enough to pulverize a boulder.
Ais's heart skipped a beat. "Bete, stop!" she cried out instinctively.
But it was too late. The speed of a Level 5 powerhouse was not something she could halt with a mere shout.
However, facing this lethal strike, Lynn didn't show any particular reaction. He had seen attacks far more terrifying than this. Besides, while this guy's stats were high, he was still just a humanoid mob, wasn't he?
Precisely two frames before that wind-wrapped heel could connect with his temple, Lynn swung the small buckler in his left hand.
DONNNG—!
The crisp, melodic sound of clashing metal rang out once more! It was louder, clearer, and more resonant than the parry that had deflected the Minotaur's axe.
Bete's full-force strike felt as if it had slammed into an immovable wall of pure concept. That terrifying, bone-shattering force was instantly diverted and drained away by an incomprehensible application of leverage.
"Gah—!?"
A pained grunt escaped Bete's throat. He felt as though his ankle had been struck head-on by a battering ram. A massive surge of counter-force traveled up his leg nerves straight to his brain, plunging his entire being into an unprecedented state of total stagger.
His body stumbled forward due to his own immense momentum, leaving his defenses wide open.
In his vision, the figure of the "trash" rookie suddenly grew larger.
Lynn's crouched body, coiled like a tightened spring, exploded into motion the instant the parry succeeded. The cheap straight sword in his hand didn't perform any fancy flourishes; it went straight for Bete's unprotected chest.
The thrust was as fast as a lightning bolt and as ruthless as a viper's strike.
For the first time in his life, the shadow of death truly loomed over Bete Loga. Even though he knew, intellectually, that this man's low stats shouldn't be able to pierce his defense, the sheer, absolute killing intent radiating from the blade gave him the visceral illusion that he was about to be slaughtered.
He wanted to move, but his body was locked in the stagger animation.
He could only watch, eyes wide, as the cold, gleaming tip of the sword drew closer and closer to his pupils...
"Stop!"
At the absolute precipice of the strike, a golden storm swept through.
Ais had finally intervened. Utilizing the limit of her Level 5 speed, she forced herself between the two men, her slender fingers accurately clamping down on Lynn's sword-wrist.
Schwing...
A faint sound of friction echoed.
The tip of Lynn's sword stopped less than a centimeter away from the leather armor on Bete's chest. The icy aura of the blade was so sharp that Bete felt a bone-chilling shiver radiate through his torso.
Sweat instantly soaked Bete's back. He stared blankly at the sword tip inches away, then at the expressionless Lynn. His mind was a total vacuum.
I... just now... was I afraid? Because of a Level 1 rookie? How is that possible?!
"Please... stop."
Ais gripped Lynn's wrist tightly, terrified that he might make another move. She turned her head, her beautiful golden eyes filled with apology and plea. She bowed her head deeply toward Lynn.
"I'm sorry. My companion was out of line."
Her voice was calm, but the sincerity was palpable. She wasn't just apologizing for Bete's rudeness; she was offering a bow of genuine respect and awe after witnessing such an impossible feat.
Lynn's gaze shifted from Bete's ghost-white face to Ais's anxious expression. He remained silent for a heartbeat, then flicked his wrist. He retracted the straight sword with ease and sheathed it cleanly at his hip.
Fine. Since she apologized, he wasn't going to be unreasonable.
Seeing Lynn sheath his blade, Ais let out a long, shaky breath and released his wrist.
Bete finally snapped out of the shock of his near-death experience. He stumbled back two steps, leaning against the rock wall as he gasped for air. When he looked at Lynn again, his gaze had completely transformed.
Contempt, mockery, disdain... it was all gone. In its place was a thick, unyielding layer of horror and wariness.
He finally understood. This man hadn't been "saved" by Ais. The remains of the Minotaur and his own experience just now spoke a silent truth: This man, who looked like a total beginner, had soloed that monster. Then, using the same method, he had nearly ended a Level 5 executive.
"You..." Bete's voice was hoarse. He wanted to say something, but his throat felt constricted, and not a single word would come out.
Lynn didn't give him a second look. He never wasted time on people who lacked manners. He turned to Ais and said flatly, "Teach him some manners."
With that, he didn't linger. He turned and walked deeper into the Dungeon. His composed retreating figure looked as if nothing of consequence had happened.
Bete stared fixedly at his own hands, then touched the cold leather of his chest armor. In his mind, the scene played on a loop: that tiny buckler, that millimeter-perfect timing, that merciless heart-seeking thrust...
That wasn't a skill a Level 1 should possess. No—that wasn't even a skill a Level 5 or 6 should have! That was a state of being where combat had become pure instinct. It was terrifying.
"That guy... what kind of monster is he..." he muttered under his breath. For the first time, his confidence in his own strength began to waver.
Ais and Bete disappeared toward the upper floors, leaving the area to return to the dead silence unique to the Dungeon.
Lynn didn't care; he didn't even look back at the werewolf. In the Lands Between, he had met plenty of loudmouths who barked until they were beaten into submission. He was used to it.
He weighed the heavy Minotaur magic stone in his pouch, feeling fairly satisfied. This trip had not only covered the cost of his gear but netted him a tidy profit. He could consider upgrading to a weapon that wasn't quite so cheap.
And a better buckler.
When he had parried Bete's kick, the cheap piece of junk he'd scavenged from the blacksmith shop had groaned under the strain. A tiny crack had even appeared in the center of the shield face.
"A consumable, huh..." Lynn clicked his tongue and continued downward.
Can this system provide a shop or something? Or even just a Finger Reader Crone?
The monster respawn rate on the eighth floor was incredibly slow, likely cleared out by the Minotaur's earlier rampage. Lynn faced no obstacles and soon reached the entrance to the ninth floor.
As he descended, the energy in the air grew denser, and the color of the walls shifted from earthy yellow to a damp, deep brown. Unfortunately, the monsters were still the same types—tragically straightforward.
To him, this wasn't even a warm-up; it was just mechanical labor for harvesting Runes.
"This is getting a bit boring," Lynn whispered to himself.
The variety of monsters here was too low, and their attack patterns were lackluster. It wasn't like the Lands Between, where you'd find a dog around every corner, a hollow crouching in every shadow, and the constant threat of a transporter trap inside a treasure chest. Life there was full of "surprises."
Just as he was thinking that, the sight ahead made him pause.
The end of the passage didn't lead to a staircase for the tenth floor. Instead, it led to a... sudden stone wall.
The wall was built from neatly cut, massive grey stones. Its architectural style was completely at odds with the jagged, natural caves surrounding it. In the center of the wall stood a heavy wooden door, carved with twisted, gnarled tree-root patterns.
"Hm?" Lynn's brow furrowed.
The art style of this door seems... off? And it looks familiar.
He stepped forward and touched the wood. It was cold, hard, and carried the decaying scent of centuries of stagnation. He gave it a experimental push.
With a dull groan, the heavy door slowly swung open, revealing a profound darkness beyond. A cold wind, smelling of rust and ancient dust, billowed out, causing Lynn to squint.
He didn't enter immediately. Instead, he tilted his head to listen. The room beyond was silent—no sign of life.
Lynn tightened his grip on his sword and buckler, lowered his center of gravity, and stepped cautiously into the unknown zone.
The space behind the door opened up significantly. This wasn't a treasury or a hidden room; it was a hall so wide it felt out of place. There were towering vaulted ceilings, tattered tapestries, stone pillars draped in cobwebs, and shattered armor and weapons scattered across the floor...
This wasn't the style of the Dungeon at all. This was the interior of a castle.
Lynn's pupils constricted as a powerful sense of déjà vu surged through him. This place looked exactly—exactly—like a section of Stormveil Castle.
"What the hell is going on..." he muttered, his alertness spiking to the maximum.
Right then, the sound of heavy, rhythmic metallic friction echoed from the shadows at the far end of the hall.
Clang... chack... clang... chack...
The sound approached steadily, unhurried.
Lynn's breath hitched for a second as he stared into the darkness. A tall figure slowly emerged from the shadow of a pillar.
It was encased in heavy, intricately designed silver plate armor. Its helm was adorned with metallic feathers that looked as though they were being whipped by an eternal wind. In its left hand, it held a kite shield; in its right, a longsword that shimmered with a cold, lethal light.
Its stride was steady, each footfall seemingly echoing the beat of Lynn's own heart. A familiar, suffocating pressure washed over him.
In Lynn's mind, a name he had etched into his very soul flashed by.
A Banished Knight.
Aren't these things exclusive to the Lands Between?! What are they doing here?!
In an instant, Lynn understood everything. He could almost see it—behind his flickering, flaming system interface, that "God" named Hidetaka Miyazaki was wearing a smile even more delighted than before.
"You've got to be kidding me!"
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My : https://[email protected]/AuAuMon
Danmachi: My Primary God is Hidetaka Miyazaki? (25 Chapters, Ongoing)
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