Dungeon Reconfiguration (4)
Krout pushed through the dungeon without so much as a single breath of rest.
Finally emerging and able to use a return scroll, he turned to Trias.
"I'll head back first. Take care of the rest."
Trias nodded slowly.
"Don't worry, Sir Krout."
"I know the young master promised you a noble title. If you need help, I'll do what I can. Of course, right now..."
He glanced down at the unconscious Calix.
"...it might be tricky. My regrets."
Trias shook his head.
"Until now, becoming the top dog in Poznyu was my whole life. Thanks to the young master, I've realized there's a much bigger world out there. I'll finish this on my own. I want to prove my worth."
"I'll be expecting great things."
With Calix in his arms, Krout vanished in a flash of light.
In the dim dungeon, where undead still rattled about...
That was where Trias had made his resolve.
He wouldn't let this chance slip away.
Gathering his men who had just escaped the dungeon, he shouted in a low voice.
"Wolves! The time we've waited for so long has come. Show those headless, panicking fools who the new ruler of Poznyu is."
His men already knew.
Two of the three factions that had divided the city—everyone but them—had vanished completely.
Excitement swelled their natural response.
"Yes, Captain!"
"Yes, Captain!"
Trias continued, eyeing his men's flushed faces.
"Sweeping away the two factions that infested Poznyu was once our deepest wish. And today, we've done it. But this isn't the end."
He held up the skillbook Calix had given him.
"Do you see this? What is it?"
"Mana Breathing Method!"
"Right. We've been scorned by knights and nobles alike because we never had this."
Poznyu was mostly filled with fugitives fleeing noble oppression.
Trias's words sank deep into their hearts.
Years of pent-up rage welled up as hot tears soaked the mercenaries' rough cheeks.
"Sniff..."
"I'm going to master this with all of you."
"!!"
The mercenaries' eyes went wide.
Even Calix's awkward-looking guard knights, watching from a distance, reacted the same.
"If I hoard it, only I get stronger. But if I share it with you, our entire mercenary corps grows strong."
"Then I might surpass you, Captain!"
Trias smirked at the playful jab.
"Heh, that sounds fun. If anyone surpasses me, I'll gladly hand over command. Not that I'll go down easy."
"Woooaaah!"
A massive cheer erupted.
The one thing mercenaries longed for above all.
Mana Breathing Method.
His declaration to share it fulfilled all their dreams at once.
"I want to repay the one who gave me this. No, I want to walk toward the horizon he sees—with all of you. Even if my body shatters, don't I deserve at least one line carved on my tombstone? Who's with me, your humble captain?!"
"We'll follow!"
"Good. Now show our enemies what the Red Wolf truly is."
"Haat! Haat!"
The Red Wolf Mercenary Corps had glimpsed a new world.
The reward chamber only class 7 masters could reach.
The Mana Breathing Method, dream of Poznyu's 20,000 free mercenaries.
And a noble who threw himself at the enemy.
These extraordinary experiences broadened their horizons dozens of times over and forged unbreakable bonds.
When Calix casually offered a skillbook he didn't need, it might have seemed transparent.
But add in the sight of him piercing his own heart to slay a Sword Owner, and it meant something entirely different.
Unfortunately, Calix—the catalyst for this change—lay blissfully unaware, teetering between life and death.
Bam!
Krout kicked open the rickety door like it was nothing.
Edirn Bertua, hearing the noise and turning, wore a look of utter disbelief.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Krout just glared silently.
Spotting Calix in his arms, Edirn sighed.
"Let me guess. That fancy noble in your arms."
Thud!
The floor cried out this time.
Krout had dropped to his knees without mercy.
"Easy there. You'll bring the house down."
Edirn turned away again.
He remained utterly indifferent to anything not his own business.
"Save the young master."
"He's fine."
Then heat haze began rising around Krout.
A fierce presence spread, pressing down on the room.
Rrrumble...!
Everything in the house shook like an earthquake.
Unable to ignore it, Edirn shouted.
"You really wanna go? Flexing in my house?!"
"Just take a look."
"Ugh!"
Arms crossed, glaring for a moment, Edirn slumped his shoulders.
His tightly clenched lips said it all: if he didn't at least pretend to check, things would end badly right here.
Damn! That's why I tried to stop him from going to the dungeon... He crawls in anyway, gets hurt, and dumps this shit on me?
Planning a quick glance and send-off, he shifted his gaze to Calix.
His eyes lit up.
Striding over, Edirn closely examined Calix's chest.
"Impressive. Near perfect. Who did this? Not some idiot like you—don't even think of lying."
"Ugh, the young master did it himself."
"Really? World's so damn unfair. A pretty boy who rides women raw without a slap gets talent like this."
Krout shook his head. He couldn't handle this old man's tongue.
Worries piled up: was entrusting his lord to this lunatic wise?
Then Edirn spoke.
"Not much time left. Why bring a corpse here? Take him and bury him quietly."
Krout realized he had no choice. As far as he knew, no one could revive Calix in time.
"Save the young master."
Edirn snorted in disbelief.
"Pffft, revive a corpse? Don't talk nonsense—get lost!"
"I don't know why my lord told me to find you. A knight just follows orders. Please."
He stayed knelt, unmoving.
Edirn's mouth twitched watching him.
"What do you expect me to do? Begging won't magic up a—!"
He trailed off. Calix's state sparked an idea.
"You want that secret art? But it's unfinished, and barely anyone knows it exists."
Muttering to himself, Edirn suddenly grabbed Krout's collar and yelled.
"How do you know about the secret art? Spill it!"
"...If you want to know so bad, wake the young master and ask him yourself. If you can save him."
True to form, Krout—well-taught by Calix—didn't explain. He provoked instead.
At the mocking reply, Edirn irritably released his grip.
"Fine, but it ain't free. Know how pricey this procedure is?"
"I never got why the young master said you'd pay with your body. But now... I think I do. That secret art—ever tested it in real combat?"
"..."
Edirn had no answer.
Krout pressed the opening.
"Thought so. Let me ask again: gonna pass on this 'chance'?"
Edirn was speechless. Hard to deny 'chance' outright.
A researcher's blood boiled.
Tsking, he said,
"Tch, that's my problem. Fine!"
Grumbling, he kicked aside clutter and boxes to clear space, then yanked a floor handle.
Screeech!
With an ugly creak from old hinges, stairs to the basement appeared.
The basement was far messier than upstairs, dust thick enough to choke on.
Edirn pointed to a cleared stone table.
"Lay him there and get out."
Krout hesitated, glancing back repeatedly. No other way.
"I'll wait outside."
"Grab some food. You look like hell."
As he'd said, Krout had returned to Poznyu via scroll and rushed here without pause.
He was a total mess.
Yet he gravely shook his head.
"I'm fine. How could a sinner rest easy?"
"Idiot!"
"Prepare yourself, old man. Harm the young master, and..."
Heat haze rose again.
"Hmph! Class 6 and can't protect one lord—think you're facing a master mage?"
"All my failing."
"Stubborn ass!"
Grumbling, Edirn slammed the basement door shut. Krout stared at the sealed door, then turned and stood firm.
No one passes while he lives—that was his iron will.
Edirn meticulously inspected Calix on the stone table.
"Clean work. Heart split perfectly in half. Scorched edges like a cauterized brand—Sword of Light. More surprising it's not a corpse."
He marveled repeatedly.
"Frosted the wound to minimize bleeding...? Hah! Never thought of using cold magic like that."
The knight who brought this boy claimed he did all the treatment himself.
If true, the kid was a genius.
Edirn wasn't a pro healer, but his medical knowledge from years of human enhancement research was top-tier.
Yet this boy's work rivaled—or surpassed—his own.
"Even stranger: the magic around him. One's a standard death postponement... but the other? No clue. Magic at all?"
Curiosity mounting, examining the chest, Edirn nicked his finger on a broken sword shard.
"Ow! Hm...?"
His wince turned grave. His blood had vanished without trace.
"Did I see wrong?"
Tilting his head, he squeezed the cut. A drop fell onto the blade—and slid away.
"A magic sword that absorbs blood..."
Unaware of Calix's unique skill Perum Infinitus, Edirn could only assume.
"Wait. So he left the broken sword in because...? Ah, 'pay with my body' makes sense now. Gotta check first."
Blood of Chimera—as the name implied—strengthened the body using monster blood.
But no successes. Pumping near-lethal monster blood straight into the heart? Fatal every time. Why it stayed unfinished for so long.
He barely remembered the details now.
Edirn rushed to a corner box, rummaging.
"Not this... not this... Ah, here!"
Pointing at the thick tome, he murmured a spell. The heavy book floated up effortlessly.
"In-Vinit!"
⟨ Liber Intuens ⟩
Pages flipped on their own—flutter flutter!—stopping precisely.
Staring intently, Edirn sighed.
"Haa... This guy's better informed than me. Perfect setup. That sword shard hooked in the heart? It's the injector for the elixir."
All prep for the secret art complete. Calix was the ideal subject. Edirn couldn't suppress his surging excitement.
"Alright. Can't hesitate when decades of unfinished work might finish in my lifetime. Like that idiot knight said—wake him and ask myself."