Chapter 34 – Dungeon Clear
Leon stood still for a moment, staring down at the collapsed corpse of the twin-headed wolf. Both of its necks were torn wide open, mangled beyond recognition—smoking from the lingering energy of his now-broken spear. Even its limbs still twitched faintly as the last remnants of its mana dissipated into the air.
He exhaled through his nose and moved forward.
The battle was over.
First, he reached down and searched the remains. His hand brushed over thick fur and scorched hide until he felt it—dense, pulsing faintly with residual energy. He dug carefully and pulled free a massive mana core, nearly the size of his palm and filled with streaks of fire and lightning.
'Not bad.'
He placed it in his inventory without ceremony.
But he didn't stop there.
This was a boss.
And bosses had loot.
He crouched again and started checking deeper—claws, chest cavity, organs already cooling from the kill. It didn't take long before his fingers brushed against something harder, smoother.
A faint hum followed.
Leon pulled it out slowly.
A stone. Pale gray. Inscribed with faint, jagged runic markings etched in a dull yellow.
The moment he held it, a message floated in the air:
[Skill Rune – Lightning Bolt (Common Rank)]
He blinked once.
Then frowned.
'...Seriously?'
A common ranked rune?
After all that?
It wasn't even the cool kind of disappointment—it was the quiet, mundane kind that just left a flat taste in the back of his throat. Still, he didn't toss it aside. A skill was a skill.
And lightning, even if basic, had potential.
He slipped the rune into his storage space alongside the beast's corpse and core.
Then, his eyes flicked to the back of the room.
Where the treasure chest waited.
It wasn't as massive as the vault chest from before, but it had weight. Design. Presence. And more importantly, hope.
Leon approached slowly, letting a thin weave of wind twist around his hand. Just in case.
He circled it once. No traps. No runic wards.
He guided the wind toward the latch, clicked it open, and then carefully lifted the lid.
Inside—
No platinum.
No mountain of metal wealth.
Instead, lying alone in the center, cushioned in velvet—
A sheathed sword.
Its scabbard was a deep charcoal gray, marked with elegant silver vines. The hilt was wrapped in dark leather, and the guard had a faint curve like a crescent moon.
Leon reached in and lifted it carefully.
It felt… light. Balanced.
As he unsheathed the blade partway, a clean glint of steel caught the faint light. Sharp. Beautiful. Efficient.
Then, as if on cue—
[Item Acquired: Crescent Fang – Uncommon Rank Sword]
He tilted his head.
Not quite what he expected.
But not bad either.
Leon looked at the blade in his hands for a moment longer, then slid it back into the scabbard with a soft click.
'Looks like I won't need to buy a new weapon for a while.'
He turned slowly, surveying the chamber one last time. It was time to leave.
But something told him his story inside this dungeon wasn't over just yet.
The soft click of the sword sliding back into its sheath echoed faintly across the silent chamber. Leon stood still for a moment, his silver eyes scanning the room one last time. The twin-headed beast lay lifeless, the last challenge conquered, and the treasure claimed.
Then—
A sudden ripple shimmered in the air ahead.
A circular, sky-blue portal unfurled just a few meters in front of him—its surface swirling gently like the surface of a lake, laced with runes that pulsed in sync with his heartbeat.
Leon didn't move.
Instead, he observed it calmly.
'So this is the exit.'
And elsewhere—
In a corridor beyond the gate, another portal appeared.
Fiora, seated against the stone wall and still clutching her injured side, opened her eyes at the sudden glow. The light washed over her like a second sunrise, and for a moment she simply stared.
Then she exhaled.
Deeply.
Her body slackened against the wall, her head tilting back in quiet relief.
'Thank the stars… I'm alive.'
But even as relief flooded her veins, dread lingered in the back of her mind.
It hadn't even been a minute since the boy—the strange, half-naked, terrifyingly strong boy—entered the boss chamber.
And it was over.
Just like that.
The explosion, the flash, the utter finality of it all—it had shaken her.
'What kind of monster is he…?'
But she didn't dwell on it.
With the portal shining beside her, she pulled herself upright and limped toward it, teeth gritted through the pain. She hesitated only for a moment—then stepped inside.
Warmth enveloped her instantly.
Everything changed.
She was no longer in the dungeon.
She stood in an ethereal space of endless stars, where time felt suspended and energy hummed with ancient intelligence. A quiet presence—massive and unknowable—welcomed her.
A glowing prompt formed before her eyes.
[Lesser System Link Established]
Her breath caught.
Then—
[Class Awakening: Complete]
[Class Rank: B]
Fiora's eyes widened.
Her pulse raced.
She didn't even see the name of the class yet—but the rank alone made her heart skip. B-rank. Not C. Not D. But B.
She'd done it.
Even with injuries. Even without defeating the boss.
She stepped forward into the light that beckoned her from beyond.
And when she emerged—
Sunlight struck her face.
Cool wind greeted her skin.
She stood once more in the open clearing where the dungeon gate had been placed, the portal closing silently behind her like a dream evaporating.
Around her stood soldiers and robed mages bearing the kingdom's crest—watchful, quiet, alert. The lingering tension of the dungeon's earlier surge still hung in the air.
But they weren't alone.
Not far ahead, arms folded and expression cold, stood a woman clad in deep violet armor.
Commander Seraphine Vael.
Fiora's eyes flicked to her in recognition—confused, but respectful.
'Why is she still here?'
She didn't ask, of course.
The answer was likely simple: damage control. Dungeon instability. A potential break.
A commander's duty.
Fiora exhaled again and looked around once more.
But there was no sign of the little boy beside her.
No silver hair. No strange eyes.
She hadn't seen him enter with the other students—so to her, he had simply… vanished.
Just another mystery.
A terrifying one.
But one she'd keep quietly to herself—for now.
Fiora didn't get far.
She took only a few careful steps toward the treeline, hoping to quietly slip away before anyone noticed—before questions came.
But that hope died instantly.
A pair of guards stepped directly into her path, their halberds crossing before her like a gate.
"Halt."
Fiora froze.
She looked up slowly, eyes narrowing beneath her hood. "...What now?"
"You emerged from the portal with such odds," the taller guard said sternly. "Identify yourself. What class did you awaken to? Who defeated the boss?"
More voices joined in behind them. Other officials. Mages. Curious soldiers gathering nearby. A few scribes even lifted enchanted quills, ready to record anything she said.
Fiora's pulse quickened.
She didn't want to answer. She didn't want attention.
But escape wasn't an option now.
So she schooled her face into neutrality, tilted her chin slightly, and replied:
"I don't know who defeated the boss."
There was a brief pause.
The guards exchanged glances.
"I was injured and resting near the gate," Fiora continued, her voice even. "A portal opened in front of me—suddenly. I assumed the dungeon was cleared and stepped through."
Technically true.
Just...not the whole truth.
She kept her tone flat, her gaze cool. Revealing too much now would only draw suspicion. And the last thing she needed was someone tracing her identity—or questioning the boy.
Because she still didn't know what he was. Only that he was dangerous. Strong. And that she owed him her life.
Unnoticed by most, a third figure stood quietly nearby.
Not a guard.
Not a mage.
Commander Seraphine Vael.
She had listened to every word.
Her violet gaze remained fixed on Fiora, sharp and unreadable.
Inside, however, her mind was racing.
'So someone did survive. But not the boss… not alone.'
Her eyes shifted subtly toward the dungeon gate.
'Then Leon is still inside.'
Not a single flicker of doubt crossed her mind.
If Fiora had made it out injured and confused—then Leon, her precious disciple, was still deep in that trial.
Still inside.
Likely to come out soon.
Seraphine exhaled slowly.
She didn't speak.
She didn't step forward.
But deep in her chest, a quiet hope sparked.
'Come on, Leon…'
'Be the next one out.'