Chapter 31 – The Girl Oustide The Boss Room
The silence was thick.
Leon stood at the far end of the wide corridor, his eyes locked on the cloaked figure sitting at the entrance to the gate. The corridor behind him was quiet—no monsters, no traps, just the residual hum of mana in the walls. But up ahead, that presence… it was different.
He took a few slow steps forward, stopping about ten meters away from the figure.
The girl didn't move.
Neither did he.
For a long moment, the two simply stared at each other, wordless, unmoving. It wasn't quite tension—but there was caution in the air. Mutual assessment. The kind you do when you're not sure if the other person is going to greet you or stab you.
Leon tilted his head slightly.
She was wearing a black cloak. Hood up. Face hidden behind a silver half-mask etched with faint lines. Her posture looked calm, but…
Then he saw it.
Her right hand was pressed tightly to her side, and below it—blood.
Dark, dried, and slowly dripping faintly.
The floor beneath her was marked with faint stains, like she'd been there for a while. Wounded. Bleeding.
'She's hurt,' Leon thought, eyes narrowing. 'But not collapsed. She's alert.'
Then she spoke.
"Don't even think about it," she said, voice cool and steady despite the pain. "If you try anything, I'll end you—injured or not."
Leon narrowed his eyes, a bit surprised at the hostility.
Then he realized something else—her eyes had drifted slightly toward the edge of his cloak.
Right.
The cloak only reached just above his knees. He had no shirt, no armor, and was very much still just in his underwear.
A muscle in his jaw twitched.
'Right. This again. One day I'll fight monsters fully clothed.'
He remained motionless. Silent.
He just waited.
Across from him, the girl frowned slightly behind her mask, though he couldn't see it. Her thoughts were racing.
'He's seriously walking around like that? Just a cloak and underwear? What kind of lunatic is this?'
She tightened her grip on her side.
And that body. He's… lean. Muscles like a trained duelist. No wasted movement. Even standing still, he looks balanced—centered. Too dangerous to ignore. And he looks… what? Fifteen?'
Her gaze moved to his eyes—those bright, unnatural eyes.
They held her still.
'What… what kind of eyes are those? A cross…? No, it's more than that. There's color. All of it. Every color, it looked a beautiful piece of glass had shattered magnificently in those eyes.'
Her eyes darted away from him, trying to clear her head.
'And those features…'
'He's… actually really handsome. Almost too handsome. But undeniably boyish. Cute, in the kind of way that sneaks up on you and ruins your guard.'
'No. Focus. He's a stranger nonetheless. Half-naked, glowing-eyed, probably insane. Stay alert.'
Leon raised an eyebrow, reading her body language. She was trying hard not to lean too heavily on her wounded side. Poised to fight, undeterred.
He said nothing.
Not yet.
Instead, he slowly folded his arms across his chest, standing tall but nonthreatening.
He didn't want to fight her.
Not unless she gave him a reason.
And judging by her breathing and the faint tension in her shoulders, she was still deciding whether or not he already had.
Leon finally broke the silence.
"So," he said calmly, "you gonna tell me who you are? Where you came from? And how you ended up bleeding out in front of a boss gate?"
His voice wasn't aggressive—just direct. Curious. He didn't need her whole life story, but he wanted the facts. This wasn't a safe place to play guesswork.
The girl didn't respond.
Her eyes, just barely visible beneath the mask, narrowed slightly. Her body tensed, but she stayed silent.
Leon sighed.
'Great. The quiet, wounded, mysterious type. Of course.'
He tilted his head slightly, watching her.
"No name? No reason? You sure you're not the dungeon boss yourself?"
She remained silent.
A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"…Ah. I get it now. It's a secret."
He gave a short, amused breath.
"Well… I'm afraid I'm not a fan of secrets."
Before the girl could even blink—
He vanished.
A flicker of wind.
A flash of motion.
And before her hand could reach for her weapon—he was back in the same spot.
Mask and hood—gone.
Now in his left hand.
The girl flinched, startled, wide-eyed. Her hand shot up toward her now-bare face, but it was too late. Her identity was exposed.
Leon studied her for a moment, then let out a thoughtful exhale.
"…Much better," he said simply. "Nothing to hide now."
Her blonde hair spilled over her shoulders, long and silk-fine. Pale skin, flushed from stress. Light-gold eyes—sharp, wary, intelligent. And even with the scowl forming on her face, she carried herself with the poise of someone who wasn't used to being looked down on.
'Definitely noble,' Leon thought. 'And probably used to command. But not used to losing.'
Her breathing quickened—not from fear, but from irritation.
She glared at him, lips pressed thin.
Leon kept his expression calm.
If she was going to explode at him for that, let her. He had the answers now—just not in words. Her face told him more than she ever would've said aloud.
Liora's jaw clenched as she stared at the boy who now stood casually, holding her mask like trophies.
She kept her silence.
But inside?
She was furious.
'He unmasked me. Just like that. I didn't even see him move…'
She kept her expression neutral, schooling her face into a calm glare—but her thoughts churned with irritation.
'Silver-white hair… those eyes… and not a single scratch on him. No wounds, no fatigue. Who the hell is this boy?'
It wasn't just his strength that unsettled her—it was the ease.
The quiet confidence.
The complete lack of fear.
He hadn't flinched once.
Meanwhile, she'd barely escaped the larger monster earlier. She'd fought off the smaller blue wolves on her path here, but not without cost—two of them had ambushed her at once, tearing into her side before she managed to kill them.
She'd nearly died.
She'd bled.
And yet… he looked like he had just taken a walk through the park.
Liora's gaze flicked over him again, lips twitching with restraint.
'Definitely a noble. No commoner carries himself like that. I'll find out who he is once I get out of here.'
She shifted slightly, ignoring the fresh sting in her ribs.
'But that strength... it's on a different level.'
She said nothing.
But her silence wasn't weakness.
It was calculation.
Liora's fingers curled slightly against her side, pressing where the bandage beneath her cloak soaked crimson. The pain was manageable—dull now—but her pride stung far worse.
She'd trained for years. Polished her swordsmanship. Studied tactics. Honed her spells in secret.
She'd thought she was talented.
Elite, even.
But now—
Her eyes drifted back to the silver-haired boy who stood like the dungeon was his courtyard.
He had removed her mask before she even blinked.
'That speed…'
Her heart sank with the realization.
'He's fifteen. Fifteen… and already this strong?'
'What have I been doing?'
She bit the inside of her cheek, steadying herself.
'A child—stronger than me at eighteen. Stronger than most I've seen.'
And worse, he wasn't even boasting.
No arrogance. No gloating. Just that calm, unreadable expression—those multicolored eyes with a white cross at their center, flickering with focus and ease.
Like this wasn't even his limit.
Liora felt her world stretch wider in that moment.
A new horizon.
And she wasn't sure if she admired him—or resented him for it.