Jordan and Isabella continued their steady march through the ruined city, moving closer and closer to the towering structure that dominated the skyline.
With every step forward, the oppressive aura grew stronger.
The shattered skyscraper loomed ahead like a wounded giant, its broken upper floors clawing at the crimson sky. Black crystalline vines pulsed along its surface, veins glowing faintly red, as if the building itself were alive.
"This is definitely it," Jordan said, eyes narrowing. "The strongest aura is coming straight from that building."
Before Isabella could respond, a sharp clicking sound echoed through the street.
Click. Click. Click.
From behind collapsed vehicles and shattered storefronts, monsters emerged.
A pack of insectoid beasts crawled into view, their segmented bodies scraping against stone. Their mandibles clacked together rhythmically, sparks flying as hardened chitin rubbed against broken concrete. Long, blade-like forelimbs twitched as they locked onto their prey.
Isabella didn't slow down.
She didn't even sigh.
She stepped forward.
Her sword flashed.
The first creature was bisected cleanly from shoulder to hip, its body sliding apart before collapsing. The second lunged—only for its head to be severed mid-motion. Two more leaped at once.
One fell in three pieces.
The other never even touched the ground.
Blood splattered across the street, sizzling where it hit the crystal vines.
More came.
And more.
Every few minutes, new monsters burst from alleyways or climbed down broken walls, drawn by the dense mana surrounding the dungeon core.
And every time—
Isabella killed them.
Effortlessly.
No wasted movement. No hesitation. No visible strain.
Jordan followed behind her, watching silently as bodies piled up along their path.
Nearly an hour passed.
Finally, Isabella slowed.
She lifted a hand and wiped a thin sheen of sweat from her forehead, exhaling softly.
"They just keep coming, don't they?" she muttered. "And here I thought half an hour would be enough to clear this dungeon."
Jordan seized the moment.
He reached into his storage ring and pulled out a clear bottle of water, the surface faintly chilled with magic.
"You must be thirsty," he said gently, extending it toward her. "You've been slaying monsters nonstop for almost an hour."
Isabella stopped walking.
Her eyes drifted to the bottle in his hand.
She stared at it.
One second passed.
Then two.
Jordan's fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around the bottle.
'Did she notice something?' he thought. 'Is she suspicious?'
Before he could say anything else, Isabella calmly reached into her own spatial storage ring.
She pulled out another bottle of water.
Unopened.
Sealed.
She raised it slightly and looked at him.
"Keep it," she said flatly. "I only eat and drink things Mala personally picks out for me."
She twisted the cap and took a sip.
Jordan's smile stiffened.
"Is that so…" he said, his voice just a little too careful. "I see ?"
He pulled the bottle back, forcing a small laugh.
"That's alright then."
He turned his head away for a moment and took a slow, steady breath.
'She's not going to make this easy, is she?' he thought.
Isabella didn't spare him another glance.
She resumed walking toward the massive building ahead, boots crunching over shattered stone and monster remains.
As she moved, she murmured quietly under her breath, her voice low enough that it barely carried.
"For some reason… that guy creeps the hell out of me."
———
Meanwhile—
Arthur moved through the ruined streets with Arlo, Marco, and Atlas flanking him loosely.
Collapsed buildings hemmed them in on both sides, shadows stretching unnaturally across the cracked road. The air was thick with mana, heavy enough to cling to the lungs.
Arthur could feel it clearly.
A faint, persistent killing intent.
Not sharp. Not focused.
But leaking.
'Oozing out like idiots,' Arthur thought. 'These guys are terrible at hiding it.'
He let out a quiet breath.
"These morons really aren't good at hiding it," Arthur muttered casually.
Marco's head snapped toward him.
"Hiding what?" Marco asked loudly.
Arthur turned, smiling warmly. "I meant the monsters. They blend into the ruins really well."
Atlas burst out laughing. "They sure do, don't they?"
Marco chuckled along. "Yeah. Sneaky bastards."
Arthur nodded, pretending to scan the surroundings.
Then—
A low growl rolled through the street.
From between two collapsed buildings, familiar shapes emerged.
Mutated hyenas.
Seven of them.
Lion-sized bodies slunk forward, bone spikes scraping against stone. Their patchy fur pulsed with glowing red veins, acidic drool sizzling as it hit the ground.
Arlo cracked his knuckles. "I'll handle this."
He stepped forward—
Only for Marco to grab his shoulder and yank him back.
"Why don't we let Arthur handle it?" Marco said casually. "He's here to learn, right?"
Arlo paused, then smiled slowly.
"Sure. Why not?" he said. "Let the newbie handle it. We'll jump in if things get dangerous."
Marco turned to Arthur.
"See?" he said pleasantly. "This is a good opportunity for you, Arthur. Go ahead and kill those small fries."
Arthur met his gaze and smiled.
"I won't disappoint you, senior."
The hyenas didn't wait.
With a collective snarl, the entire pack lunged.
Arthur inhaled deeply.
His heartbeat slowed.
His shoulders relaxed.
'Calm the muscles,' he told himself. 'Decrease power output. Keep movements steady. Flexible.'
He drew the sword Isabella had given him.
The blade hummed softly.
Arthur stepped forward.
His stance mirrored Isabella's—but adjusted.
Less extension.
Less force.
More control.
He burst forward.
The first hyena spat a glob of corrosive acid.
Arthur twisted aside at the last second, the acid grazing past his shoulder and splattering against the wall, melting stone.
He moved again.
Quick Draw.
But not hers.
This was a version Arthur had developed on his own—modified to suit his body, drastically reducing the backlash.
If Isabella had witnessed it herself, she wouldn't have believed her own eyes—it shouldn't have been possible.
His sword flashed upward, taking the first hyena's head clean off.
The second lunged from the side.
Arthur ducked, the blade sweeping horizontally.
Another head fell.
The third came in low.
Arthur pivoted—but too slow.
Claws raked across his thigh, tearing flesh. Pain flared.
He gritted his teeth.
'Adjust.'
He shortened the arc.
Reduced rotation.
The next strike took the fourth hyena at the neck.
Blood sprayed.
The fifth leapt from above.
Arthur rolled, came up hard on one knee, and slashed upward.
The blade caught bone.
Cracked.
But still severed.
The sixth hyena charged in a frenzy.
Arthur forced his aching body to move, ignoring the tearing pain in his muscles.
One final cut.
Six bodies hit the ground.
Arthur staggered, breathing hard, blood dripping from his leg and arm.
The seventh hyena snarled, circling.
Behind him—
Silence.
Arlo's mouth hung open.
"…Maybe we underestimated him," Arlo muttered.
Marco swallowed. "I thought we could let him get devoured. If an investigation happened, we'd come out clean."
Atlas's eyes darkened.
"But it looks like we'll have to dirty our hands after all."
He reached into his storage ring.
A dagger slid into his palm.
Cold.
Blackened.
Poison faintly glistening along the edge.
Arthur raised his sword, preparing to finish the last hyena.
Then—
Something whistled through the air.
Fast.
Too fast.
Arthur's eyes widened.
'What—'
A dagger flew straight toward his head.
The world slowed.
Steel spinning.
Death inches away.
--------
A/N:
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