My Protégé Hero Has No Chance of Dying So Easily.
Abel moved through the situation with complete composure, as if the chaos around him was nothing more than a minor inconvenience on his daily commute. He pushed off the ground with a decisive thud, launching himself forward at blinding speed. Before the monsters could even register his presence, he brought his Holy Sword down in a perfect arc.
“Kuiik!”
“Kuiik… when…”
In the space of a heartbeat, Abel had sliced through all four kobolds. He didn’t slow down. He spun mid-stride, cleaving an ogre’s head clean off and immediately following through with another downward strike that bisected a second one.
“Kuiik! That human’s too fast!”
“Kuiik! I can’t even track him with my eyes!”
“You worthless bastards! Just swing your damn weapons already, even if you can’t see him!”
The troll’s roar echoed across the chamber, and the monsters obeyed without question.
Abel’s location still unknown, they hacked and slashed wildly—blind, undisciplined attacks that left glaring openings everywhere.
Slash! Slash! Slash!
The white blade sang through the air, severing the necks of the entire ogre trio in a single pass. With every brutal thwack of the troll’s foot, more bodies fell. The troll let out a guttural bellow of pure rage.
“You little shits!”
The troll changed its target. Instead of chasing the impossible-to-track Abel, it lunged toward the iron bars where Estelle and Celine were trapped, clearly intending to use them as hostages.
That was the exact moment Abel appeared behind it.
Troll’s right thigh—ripped open by a serrated edge.
“…You damn bastard!!”
The troll roared and thrashed, but Abel’s speed was simply beyond its reach.
Whoosh!
The club swung in a wide arc. Abel shifted the Holy Sword from right to left hand and drove it straight up.
Crack!
The troll’s right arm was severed at the elbow. It scrambled desperately to snatch the club with its remaining limb and screamed.
“Kuaaaah!! You filthy animal!!”
“I’ll shout until my voice gives out, you monster scum!”
Abel danced between the club and the approaching axe of the goblin chieftain, then spun and sliced straight through the chieftain’s chest.
“Grarargh…!”
The goblin chieftain toppled in two halves as Abel’s next swing met the troll’s club head-on with a ringing clang.
“You human… you blocked my club?”
The force that came from those thick forearms should have shattered bones on contact, yet Abel’s arms only tingled. He had learned long ago to avoid frontal clashes, so he planted his feet and charged again.
Meanwhile, inside the iron cage, Estelle and Celine watched the fight with growing unease.
“These traps… they’re way too smart. Normal trolls don’t have that kind of intelligence.”
“No, there’s no way a regular troll could plan something this elaborate. Maybe it’s a different monster entirely.”
“Considering the dungeon’s scale… it’s almost certainly an ogre shaman or a kobold witch doctor.”
“Then the hero will handle it. No problem, right?”
“Yeah, probably…!”
Troll’s club shattered under Abel’s blow.
The sound of erupting blood echoed through the empty hall. Both women’s heads snapped toward the source.
Abel stood there, sword still raised, having carved a diagonal slice straight through the troll’s torso. The beast toppled backward, mouth foaming with bloody bubbles.
“Haa…”
Abel scanned the chamber once more, checking for stragglers. None remained.
“Haah…”
He let out a relieved sigh.
Tap… tap…
Footsteps approached from the direction the monsters had come. Abel and the women turned instinctively.
“A mere human took out all of those monsters? Impressive. I figured you’d handle it and I’d show up late.”
From the entrance walked a towering figure—slightly larger than a human, with the unmistakable blend of dragon and humanoid features. A drakan.
Estelle’s eyes widened in recognition.
“…Drakan?”
#
Drakan. One of the strongest monsters in the upper-class tier, often grouped with wyverns and drakes under the name “Garudon” dragons.
Abel, who had not yet received any divine blessing, had zero chance of winning against it. This was an impossible opponent.
“Wait… a B-rank dungeon that requires two A-rank adventurers? But this is a drakan?! The guild must have made a mistake—maybe they thought there wasn’t one here at all. Either way, something’s off.”
Celine’s voice cracked with disbelief.
Estelle bit her lip hard.
“…Why is a drakan here…?”
“…Estelle, are you alright?”
“…Sorry. Bad memories just hit me…”
Her body trembled slightly. Celine turned to Abel and shouted.
“Hero! If you come over here, I can cast a blessing right away!”
Abel straightened his grip on the Holy Sword. The drakan still stood relaxed, as if daring him to try. Abel leaped sideways—far enough to be safe if Celine blessed him—and began closing the distance.
But the drakan had already vanished. It reappeared right in front of him in an instant.
“Here!”
Abel’s counter-swing missed by a hair. The drakan’s fist crashed into his abdomen with a bone-shattering crunch. Abel flew backward, crashing against the wall.
“…Y-you hero…”
Celine panicked, while Estelle clenched her teeth and activated her divine power.
Sacred Sword
The Holy Sword formed in her hand instantly, but the iron bars surrounding them were designed to contain holy users. The divine power couldn’t even reach outside the cage—let alone shield Abel.
“As expected… the same material as a prison for holy users. How did these monsters even obtain this?”
Celine shouted, pointing toward Abel. “Saint! The hero is!”
Estelle saw him slumped against the wall, blood trickling from his head and mouth, completely unconscious.
“…Abel.”
Estelle’s voice trembled with fury. The black hair by her sides fluttered in the wind as it gradually turned a brilliant, sun-like red.
“Saint…”
Divine power and holy power were fundamentally different. Nothing in this world could block the latter. Yet the drakan’s posture stiffened.
“Human… what are you—”
Estelle’s hair flared even brighter. The drakan’s eyes narrowed as it prepared to rip her apart.
But before it could act, another voice cut through the air.
“…Estelle… stop.”
“…Abel?!”
Bricks and rubble rained down as Abel forced himself upright, spitting a mouthful of blood.
“…Hurts like hell.”
“How the hell did you even get up? A human shouldn’t be able to take that hit bare-handed.”
“Shut up, you lizard brat. Talking hurts enough already.”
Abel gripped the Holy Sword two-handed and glared at the drakan.
“Estelle, don’t use that power.”
“We can’t win like this…!”
“…Please, just once. Trust me.”
Abel spat more blood and charged forward again.
Estelle hesitated. Logically, she should have poured everything into the final blow herself. But…
“…Saint?”
“…He asked me to trust him.”
“Wait! He’ll die!”
“He won’t.”
Estelle stared straight at Abel.
“My hero would never die that easily.”
The drakan watched Abel’s desperate charge and felt genuine interest. The woman who had just wielded strange power had backed off, so fighting this human should be entertaining.
“I’ll play along, human.”
Claws extended, the drakan attacked with terrifying speed. Abel barely dodged, but the creature’s movements were far too fast—yet it still slipped, allowing Abel’s blade to graze its claw off in a clean severance.
“…What was that?!”
Abel didn’t answer. He slammed the ground and closed the distance again.
This time he swung horizontally. The drakan thought he had the opening and leaned back, waiting for the gap after the big swing.
“That’s far enough, human. That was interesting… but—”
Puuk!
“…Wha—”
The horizontal swing reversed mid-air, accelerating forward with impossible force. The drakan only realized too late.
“Impossible…”
The sheer momentum and counterforce required to deliver a non-accidental strike meant one thing: Abel’s body had to be far stronger than any normal human.
“Die, lizard brat.”
“Wai—”
Crack!
The white blade carved through the drakan’s skull and shot upward. At the same moment, blood sprayed everywhere.
“Hero…”
Celine looked at him with pure awe. A half-year veteran hero had slain the strongest upper-class monster without any blessing. That alone was enough to inspire reverence.
Estelle, however, gazed at him with a different light in her eyes—trust, pride, and deep affection.
“…I believed in you, Abel.”