Chapter 15
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: Floor 2 - Lv.185 Great Shaman (1)
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Have you ever been struck by lightning?
Of course, I have.
The sensation of electricity coursing through your body is one thing, but what pisses me off even more is the warning sign beforehand.
The hairs all over your body stand on end.
It's different from goosebumps.
It's like some external force is yanking every hair taut.
Your skin prickles as if static is sparking across it.
And the trauma from years past suddenly rears up, blaring alarms in your mind.
I hate that precursor more than the lightning strike itself.
It gives you that one split-second preview that you're utterly fucked.
That's the part that really boils my blood.
But by some stroke of luck, I felt that unnatural static buildup.
And at the same time, I realized there was no discharge arcing up from the ground yet.
The warning was there, but the strike point hadn't revealed itself.
This wasn't some light zap. It was massive.
And naturally, the bigger it is, the slower it moves.
There was still time.
A fleeting instant, too brief to measure in split seconds.
I shook my hand out in a near-conditioned reflex.
Blink Dagger
Instant teleportation tool / Indestructible / Regenerates on use
One of the minor perks of the Blink Dagger is its utility as a tool.
Even without its teleportation function, the dagger itself is damn convenient.
It doesn't break. If it does, it regenerates as part of the skill.
I can make it vanish if it's touching my body.
And summon it again just as easily.
The dagger materialized at my fingertips, absorbing the motion.
For dodging lightning like this, the air is better than the ground.
Who the hell knows what physics apply—magical lightning flows through insulators like the floor.
Another instant transcending perception passed.
Reflexive blink.
My body teleported into the air, grabbing the still-flying dagger midair.
And long-ingrained habit already had my arms moving.
Shielding my eyes and ears as best I could.
The next moment.
Dazzling light, and thunder crashed down.
The Girl knew it too.
Her family hadn't specifically trained her to take or dodge lightning, but among the monsters that bullets couldn't pierce, there were the rare ones that called down bolts.
But she didn't fully grasp the situation until she saw the phenomenon on the ground, rather than just the prickling on her skin.
A crisp crackling of blue flames.
The most reliable precursor before a lightning strike.
Superhuman strength flooded her slender limbs, unfit for such power.
The muscle contraction for evasion finished in an instant.
This was as natural a reflex to her as breathing.
And with the Labyrinth's buffs enhancing her already exceptional physical abilities, she had just a bit more leeway.
A thought flashed through her mind.
Uncle will handle it himself anyway.
It was bordering on faith now, though she hadn't realized it yet.
Then what about the other one?
The middle-aged Hunter she'd grown somewhat fond of over the past few days.
Could he dodge it?
No.
He couldn't.
The Girl decided.
The power she'd been holding, direction undecided, released.
She hurled her body toward the Hunter with full force.
And activated Dash.
Dash
Explosive burst of speed / High physical strain
Uncle had said to save evasion skills until the absolute last second, but she had no choice now.
The explosive force shattered stone dust from the solid floor beneath her feet.
Her instincts told her her sneakers were ruined beyond repair.
Her tiny body became a streak of light, slamming into the Hunter's gut.
But unfortunately, she was a tad too late.
The thunderbolt struck.
The Great Shaman watched the scene with eyes wide in surprise.
His pre-prepared ritual was more destructive than anything else.
And he was wielding it himself.
The power that summoned lightning dwarfed the Lightning Bolt spells of those so-called mages—it was almost insulting to compare.
Provided it hit.
But accuracy wasn't a concern when handling lightning.
You couldn't dodge lightning.
If you did, it was the shaman's aim that was off.
He'd targeted the human man sitting beside the massive ruin guardian's corpse precisely.
There was no margin for error in that aim.
Which meant the opponent had truly evaded it.
"Sensing lightning beforehand and dodging it..."
He knew of warriors who could pull off the impossible.
They weren't common, of course.
He slammed his staff hard against the ground.
Mana deep within the seasoned shaman's body surged in response.
"This cannot be taken lightly."
Third-degree burns were nothing before a Healing Potion.
The air scorched, leaving the arm shielding his face a gruesome sight, but he rolled and scrambled to snatch the vials from the Girl and Hunter's belts.
His arm wouldn't respond properly from the shock, but he forced it under control.
No time to pour the contents.
With a sharp crash, he hurled the vials, shattering them and spilling their contents.
He was half-resigned while administering first aid.
Yet both were still alive.
How? The Girl's superhuman reflexes?
Parts of their bodies had vaporized, and the rest was charred.
Fourth-degree burns—cooked to charcoal.
Without potions, they'd have died shortly after. Their bodies were already on the verge of giving up.
The griffin collapsed nearby looked healthier by comparison.
Steam rose thickly, a sign of proper healing.
O great waters of the Healing Spring, that can revive even charred husks.
Without hesitation, I rolled my body in the scattered spring water too.
The regenerative power seeped into my well-cooked arm, fresh flesh blooming in real time.
Not fully healed, but back to fighting condition without major issues.
The thunderbolt had targeted me.
The Girl and Hunter surviving on death's doorstep was likely thanks to that.
Before standing, I grabbed the remaining vial, then dumped "Griffin's Blood" into my mouth.
Too rushed to swallow properly, but splashing it on worked too.
Then I locked eyes on the one who'd unleashed the bolt.
No waste, no delays in motion or thought.
From the thunderstrike to now, barely three seconds had passed.
An elderly orc shaman and a young one.
Plus five orc officers.
What fresh hell was this? But it was undeniable reality.
The biggest problem: the old shaman didn't waste words—he immediately began chanting another spell.
Vast experience pinpointed the path to survival in this moment.
Judgment instant, action immediate.
I chucked the last potion into the wheezing griffin's maw.
Hurled hard enough to shatter it for real.
Soon, steam began rising from the fire-breathing beast's mouth.
Shouldering the recovering Girl and Hunter, I grinned at the orcs.
The Great Shaman hurriedly pondered what spell to unleash next.
The human man had recovered from their fatal wounds at unbelievable speed.
That alone would be fine.
He'd have no counter for the next attack.
But the steam rising from the griffin's mouth was different.
The old orc knew what it was.
The miraculous spring water carried by those called Exiles.
Useless on corpses, deadly poison to the living undead.
Steam meant the ruin guardian was still alive.
A lifetime of experience suggested the right counter now.
The ruin's floor was solid rock.
With a rumbling roar, a chunk of it erupted upward.
Vines sprouted from the earth, weaving the rock together.
It took only seconds to form a golem.
Finally finishing his focus, the Great Shaman's face fell in dismay.
The griffin was slowly rising.
Right in front of it: only him and his forces.
How did their group look to a monster on the brink of death?
The human man had already slipped into the griffin's blind spot.
We finally dragged ourselves up to the second-floor walkway along the boss room wall when the Girl opened her eyes.
"Ugh, urk. Kyaaak."
Aftershocks of electrocution made her convulse.
I unceremoniously dropped her to the floor.
Or rather, my strength gave out.
Full sprint carrying two people is brutal, even with doped stats.
"If you're awake, grab Uncle and scout the top for the exit."
Like a high-spec NPC whose life was constant combat outside, she grasped the situation fast.
"How are you even alive... Healing Potion? So what's this exit you're talking about?"
I'd never explained the dungeon layout. Figured I'd find it myself anyway.
Sloppy on my part. With Floor 2 getting dicier, I need to cram knowledge into her during gaps.
"In games, where do you exit a dungeon from?"
"Uh, the exit?"
"Yeah. Not back through the entrance, right?"
Her eyes spun in realization. Slight delay, but she got it.
"The exit's at the top?"
"I can spot it, but you probably can't, so rub any wall you see. One'll open."
No-shortcut games are trash. I played a god-tier one.
...Pretty sure.
I quickly listed terrain features likely to hide exits.
A few had to hit.
The Girl nodded, face blank—she wouldn't remember—but her eyes burned with resolve.
Hardworking kids are cute.
"So what're you gonna do, Uncle?"
"Know what hit us earlier?"
"Lightning?"
"Shamanism."
"Oh, uh. An orc shaman then?"
"Great Shaman level. Got the griffin back up to fight 'em, but left alone, it'll lose. Need to provide fire support."
The Girl looked dazed, struggling to keep up.
"You're siding with the griffin to fight?"
"Yeah. EXP's a lost cause, so buy time to escape."
Even a regular shaman's overkill on Floor 2.
A Great Shaman here defied logic—like a colonel commanding a squad.
Even at full health, the griffin gets smashed.
Great Shamans start at Lv.100 easy.
The Girl didn't get it but nodded like she'd follow orders.
"What if I find the exit?"
"Take this."
I spawned a dagger and handed it over.
Blink Dagger
For emergency teleport / Escape tool
Realizing it was the Blink Dagger, she snatched it and bolted upstairs, Hunter over her shoulder.
I glanced at her go, then grabbed my quiver. Barely ten arrows left.
Bolts even fewer.
Ammo as main weapon is a headache. Fairy-killing arrows would be nice.
Infinite quivers are a romance in performance and fantasy.
A monstrous roar echoed with the beast's cry.
The shaman's summoned golem blocked the griffin's assault and counterattacked.
Orc officers charging in slashed at the griffin's hide.
The beast spread its wings, retreating with wind pressure.
The young orc behind the old shaman got shoved back.
Mana swirling around the old orc began manifesting as light.
"Hoo, good. Fat chance."
The old shaman was channeling another spell. Lightning flickering at his fingertips.
I knew it. Same bolt as before.
I nocked an arrow and waited.
Intel tree classes are high-risk, high-reward.
Completed spells pack devastating power, but interrupt the cast and it's not just canceled.
Backlash from failed casting hits.
The lightning took shape.
I'd used similar shamanism before—knew the timing.
Calculated distance, waited to the limit, then released.
The fairy's finely crafted arrow whistled through the air.
Couldn't confirm the hit.
A chill crept over me.
I ducked instantly.
A sharp stab sheared a few hairs.
Whirling, I swept low with my leg.
Doped stats bridged the level gap—and flipped it. Dragon blood at work.
The foe lost balance, retreating without follow-up.
A short, green-skinned creature in a mask.
It melted into shadows before my eyes.
Stealth activated
A sigh escaped me.
Early goblin assassins are deadlier than orc warriors.
At my level, invisible, silent foes carry huge risk.
To deal with it, borrow another's hand.
Let's see. Elemental manipulation screams feral shaman...
Can make the griffin breathe fire.