Dungeon (3): The Apex Predator
Limbs of the monsters flew through the air. Purple blood droplets stained the atmosphere, and the once-threatening hybrids crumbled like sandcastles. Arnold quietly raised his sword. His movements were sharp and precise, flowing as naturally as an old craftsman's hand.
“Bring it all on.”
He spat the words curtly, as if the fight bored him. The monsters instinctively began to wary of him. They'd seemed mindless, driven only by desire, charging like waves just moments ago—but now they hesitated at his presence.
“……!”
They who'd believed themselves the hunters... in this moment, that illusion shattered.
“- - - - -!!”
What they faced wasn't prey... but a predator.
The first hybrid to charge was a monster twice the size of a human. With its unnaturally fused muscles and rotting flesh, any ordinary person would have felt revulsion and fear—but
Slash!
Arnold merely swung his sword lightly.
Splurt—
The monster's head launched into the air. Its massive body staggered forward a few more steps before collapsing to the ground. The others charged without hesitation.
But—
“Predictable.”
Arnold took just one step forward. In that instant, his sword arced smoothly.
Whoosh!
Three monsters' bodies split open in a flash. No resistance, no counterattack. Just dismembered corpses left behind.
“W-What the hell...?”
Lucy muttered from behind, watching the battle unfold. His allies, who'd been locked in fierce struggle moments before, could only gape like spectators now.
“Haha...”
Varis let out a hollow laugh.
“The things we struggled so hard against...”
His gaze trembled with disbelief. But the battlefield offered no respite. More hybrids screeched as they rushed in.
Arnold swung his sword again, expressionless.
Splurt! Slash!
Arms severed, legs lopped off. They swarmed him at once, but not a single attack grazed him. His blade danced, leaving only carcasses in its wake.
“……!”
One hybrid flailed a massive arm in desperation. But just before its palm reached him—
Bam!!
He smashed his sword straight into its fist. Bones shattered with a crunch, the arm slamming into the ground. Before it could scream, its neck was sliced clean.
“How... with such monstrous strength...”
Elisha swallowed hard, murmuring. Even she was seeing Arnold's full power for the first time.
“This isn't magic...”
Pure swordsmanship. He was tearing through the monsters with nothing but that. Before him, they were little more than fodder mobs.
“Still more left.”
Arnold shook the blood from his blade and scanned the field. Plenty remained. But the tide had turned. The enemies no longer charged—they recoiled, stepping back.
Even they sensed it instinctively. This man was beyond them.
“Not planning to just wait around, are you?”
Arnold stepped forward calmly. The foes scattered in terror, half-screaming as they fled.
“They're... running away...?”
Melina muttered in bewilderment. Arnold paid it no mind, advancing steadily.
“It's not over yet.”
His eyes gleamed red. And in the next moment, the hunt resumed.
Slice—
“-, --?!”
Slice.
“———!!!”
One by one. Nothing could halt his advance. Even monsters born in the abyss to rule the darkness fell before him like leaves in the wind.
Splurt!
Arnold swung indifferently at the last stragglers. A red line cleaved the air, black blood spraying forth. Their death cries echoed briefly.
But not for long. His lethal strikes ended them swiftly. Blood droplets rained down, soaking him head to toe. He ignored it all, unflinching. No ragged breaths, no faltering gaze. As if this were routine.
For the first time, fear flickered in the charging monsters' movements.
“--, ---!”
The final hybrid bellowed like a beast, swinging its enormous arm. The blow could shatter rock. But Arnold didn't flinch. He met its gaze coolly, raising his sword.
“Too late.”
Before the words finished, his form vanished. The hybrid chieftain had no time to react—Arnold was already behind it. A motion silent as passing wind.
And slash!
A blade as sharp as light cleaved down. The beast froze. One strike bisected its massive frame. Blood fountained. A final wail tore the air.
And... thud.
The last hybrid crashed as a colossal corpse. Silence enveloped the dungeon.
The survivors stared, speechless, dumbfounded by Arnold.
The monsters that had nearly devoured him... gone, as if a lie.
“...All by himself?”
Lucy swallowed, hand trembling over her mouth, eyes wide with incredulity as she watched him.
Elisha and Melina, observing from afar, were equally stunned.
“...I can only think he's incredible.”
Melina whispered softly, her hushed voice laced with awe and surprise.
Elisha nodded in agreement, clenching her fists.
“I never get used to it. That strength...”
She gazed at his back, emotions swirling.
Arnold shook off his blade and walked out slowly. The bloody aura around him faded. His eyes cooled to their usual icy calm. Without a sigh, he declared curtly,
“...It's over.”
With that, the dungeon's tension eased. Amid gazes of admiration and respect, Arnold pressed on, expressionless.
As if it had all been inevitable from the start.
Hybrids were mid-to-high-tier entities in the dungeon. In the original game, you had to steadily clear the early weaklings to grow strong enough to face them—and even then, usually one at a time.
Yet here they were, a pack baring fangs at me. This was no normal occurrence. Even in the dungeon's lower levels, such numbers signaled a clear anomaly.
I'd long abandoned expecting the story to follow the original beat-for-beat, but this level of deviation was unexpected.
Still, seeing myself handle them solo... yeah, Arnold was designed as a late-game boss for a reason.
“Incredible, Arnold! Taking down those monsters all alone!”
Varis's eyes sparkled with awe and curiosity.
“I knew you were strong, but you keep surprising me.”
“How are you that strong?”
I brushed the bloodstains from my clothes nonchalantly.
“Just reinforcing my body with mana.”
“That's it? I do that too...”
“The more mana, the greater the boost.”
As I explained simply, Senior Lucy approached cautiously, face like she was denying reality.
“Arnold... you're really a first-year, right?”
Her bewildered gaze fixed on me.
“Yeah, well...”
“It's truly amazing!”
She grabbed my bloodied hand without hesitation. Her warmth seeped in. Her fingertips were hot, but her eyes burned warmer—beyond mere curiosity, like she was desperately clinging to something.
“Honestly, I thought this fight was impossible. Even one hybrid would've been tough... but then my reliable junior shows up?”
Her praise was genuine, but it was getting awkward. Too close. Her sparkling eyes and bright smile felt unfamiliar.
Then—
Tug.
My collar tugged lightly.
“Ugh...”
Turning, Eily looked up with a pouty face. Dissatisfaction brewed in her eyes.
“Master, I fought hard too...”
Her small hand clutched my hem tightly, like she craved praise. Her puffed cheeks were cute, but her gaze held an obsessive glint.
I was speechless for a moment. The battlefield's brutality had lingered moments ago, but now it felt like a different war was brewing.
Deep Temple Dungeon, innermost sanctum.
The darkest, deepest abyss. In the space where cold air hung heavy, an irritated breath leaked out.
“Hmph, to think it'd come to this.”
The woman crossed her legs arrogantly, dangling her foot lazily. Her gaze, laced with faint purple flames, bored into the floor—deep dissatisfaction simmering within.
In the dim space lit only by flickering mana remnants, a vein pulsed stubbornly on her forehead.
“I wondered if I'd overdone it... but it's more annoying than expected?”
Her voice was low and soft, yet venomous. Her fingers drummed the armrest rhythmically.
Then, as if struck by a sudden idea, her lips curled slowly.
“Shall I stir up something more fun?”
She rose languidly, stepping into the shadows. No footsteps echoed; thick shadows writhed organically around her, embracing her like living things as she moved.