Chapter 23
Chapter 23
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: Floor 4. Criminal Knight
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We'd found the iridescent polyhedron, so we pressed on with exploring the fourth floor to meet the knight-turned-criminal.
Scattered here and there were the corpses of dead enemies.
Worn and rusted gear, traces of consumables already used up.
Everywhere I looked, there were clear signs that a band of criminals had passed through, and only then did Dave's words truly sink in as truth.
Unmistakable anomalies that Dive Dungeon (D.D.) had never shown before.
There was much I needed to hear from the knight leading this band of criminals.
'Honestly, I doubt that guy knows much of anything...'
At best, he was just a criminal with a background as a former knight, so I wasn't expecting any deep truths about the Dungeon Gallery Pack.
I was simply curious if this criminal, for all his autonomy, could judge others, decide on hostility or friendliness based on his own thoughts.
Even Severa and Dave—the only ones I'd properly conversed with in this dungeon—had started off in unconditional hostility, just like back in D.D. days.
If Dave had successfully reconnected with the criminal knight and spoken of me, wouldn't we at least be neutral, if not friendly?
It needed verification.
'I'm also curious if sparing him and talking to change our relationship persists until the next encounter.'
If basic relationship values couldn't be altered, he'd probably attack me on sight, even if Dave had gone to the criminal knight.
Even now, with D.D. turned into harsh reality, I still didn't trust the criminals.
More precisely, I didn't trust the dungeon.
There was no gain in trusting this wicked hellhole, lying in wait with who-knows-what traps to ensnare me at any moment.
As I walked, sorting through my tangled thoughts, the fourth-floor map was already about eighty percent filled.
And then the vomit-inducing stench wafted in.
The metallic reek of blood, like rusted iron, mingled with the foul stink of sewage.
Unlike the upper floors, the current was swift here, flowing in the opposite direction, so the water in the sewer wasn't visibly red—but the scent of death was unmistakable.
'Presence...'
A chill ran down my spine—
My glutes clenched tight with that instinctive warning.
I twisted my waist on reflex, swinging my arm wide to hurl my axe at whatever was behind me.
At the edge of my blurring vision, like paranoia-made-real, I glimpsed a figure in plate armor and a blade glinting coldly from the shadows.
The one targeting my back looked startled by my reaction.
Kwagagagang—!
Metal clashed against metal, sparks flying with ear-piercing noise to briefly push back the darkness before vanishing.
The shock of blocking the sword numbed my arms as I shoved back at my ambusher.
"You bastard...!"
"Kuh!"
Even made of cheap iron, plate armor was plate armor—it took a solid kick to make him stagger back a few steps, but no visible damage.
"Who the hell are you? This is the second time shit like this has happened, and I'm in a really bad mood right now."
The ambusher said nothing, just stared silently through the slits in his helmet with unmoving eyes.
It pissed me off.
This had to be the criminal knight Dave mentioned—no doubt about it.
Whether he'd hoarded gear or not, he was wrapped in tier-3 plate armor, and the sword looked at least tier-2, maybe 3.
'Lucky bastard. If he were just a miniboss, I'd be thrilled.'
A straight melee build with that setup in the sewers? I'd be flipping through the air to carve up baby alligators.
But even with good items, no level-ups and low coefficients meant his actual specs lagged far behind a player's.
So he'd gotten stuck on a regular Wanderer, not even phase 2.
"..."
The silence dragged on.
I narrowed my eyes, clicked my tongue, readied my axe for a downward strike, and timed Severa's summon.
'Yeah. In the end, not a real person—just an enemy. This time, I kill him.'
No matter how human he seemed, he was just a bunch of dots at heart.
This would confirm it—
"Hm. As the blacksmith Dave said, you're a bit sloppy, but you've got solid basics."
"What?"
Sring—
With those words, the criminal knight sheathed his sword on his own and removed his helmet, revealing his bare face.
He looked unkempt from hardship, but with a little grooming, he could pass for a handsome middle-aged man—thick features, steadfast eyes.
"I'm Albert, once a knight of the Graven house in Whitechamber. Sorry for the sudden attack. I wanted to gauge your skill."
"No, you fucking criminal scum. You think stabbing some innocent guy in the back and apologizing fixes everything...?"
"I'm not asking forgiveness. Nor do I expect it. I just want to join forces with someone skilled against the crisis ahead."
Albert's brazen, thick-skinned attitude killed any urge I had to yell more.
From experience, types like him only made you angrier the more you raged—it was a losing battle.
"Haa..."
"I assume you've heard the rough story from blacksmith Dave."
Should I treat this bastard like a human?
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The criminal knight, Albert, led me to a room not yet marked on the map to continue talking.
Inside, criminals with missing limbs stared hollow-eyed, wrapped in bandages.
'Seven? Fewer than I thought.'
If there'd been nearly twenty, that'd mean over half died to the Wanderer, right?
No matter the spec gap, twenty criminal-tier enemies should've overwhelmed even a miniboss Wanderer.
Especially with Albert in tier-3 gear.
As I scanned with those questions in mind, I spotted Dave in the corner—tied up tight, beaten to a bloody pulp.
Looked dead at first glance, but his chest rose and fell; he was alive.
Albert caught my gaze on Dave and started explaining, like an excuse.
"He deserved death for fleeing mid-battle without a word, but killing him would've made talking to you harder. If he'd stayed, maybe one more would've survived."
At Albert's blame on Dave, the criminals—fingers gone here, legs there—glared murderously at the swollen-eyed, unconscious Dave.
'Savages.'
Pathetic at shifting blame after getting wrecked—their skill at it was art.
"Hm... that's... nom nom..."
"Not to your taste?"
Albert sat by the campfire, face blank as ever.
"Not to my taste? Well... I figured criminal scum would be like this."
"You bastard...!"
A hot-tempered-looking criminal and a few others bristled at my words and shot up, but I ignored them.
Honestly, aside from criminal knight Albert, they were all just generic Criminal #3,765,181.
"I don't know or care if you were some noble knight. Doesn't change that you're a fuck-up who got booted—why act high and mighty?"
"Hrmm..."
Even the calm ones twitched their brows at that.
"Couldn't catch one bitch, got your asses handed to you, then pass the buck—real pretty sight."
"...She wasn't an ordinary woman. A monster absorbing the sewer's mana. Brainless, but upper knight-level skill. If we'd had our original gear..."
The criminal knight made excuses.
Not that we—I—was weak, but that the Wanderer was abnormal.
And that ugly claim they could've won with their old equipment.
Setting aside the "instant backstab bestie" first impression, his twitching face showed rich emotions he couldn't quite mask.
"Sure, sure."
The mood sank from trash heap to abyss.
"You said join forces. But what now? Fighting with mutts like you would just be a hindrance."
"Too much for your skill."
"Why? Can't even swing a sword, all scrawny—easy pickings?"
He'd actually be a big help in a fight. Still, I mocked the criminal knight.
Snap—
I flicked my fingers.
"Wha... what?! Specter! She followed us here?!"
"Eek! Sp-spare me! Please, I have little siblings waiting...!"
"Outta the way! Move!"
Ghostly red eyes gleamed eerily, and the criminals panicked, scrambling on all fours to flee each other.
Albert and the passed-out Dave stayed put, but even he gaped wide-eyed, hand on his sword hilt.
Clear wariness. And wariness born of fear.
'Reliable performance.'
I'd give Severa a kiss later when alone.
She'd hate it, probably.
"Ambush a summoner and lose, then strut like you're hot shit? Think that'll fly, idiot?"
Pre-negotiation dominance worked wonders.
Albert, exiled to the sewers yet still delusions of knighthood, was cowed, watching my eyes.
'For now, I'll treat you as human.'
They showed varied reactions, but it was too soon to confirm if they were truly more than 0s and 1s.
So, no killing.
"Then you'll face her alone? Even you're strong, but solo seems tough."
Honestly, I probably wouldn't lose charging the Wanderer as-is.
But phase 2 might be a slog, as Albert said.
"You need to pass her to escape these sewers too—"
"I could solo it, but I'll accept the alliance. On one condition."
Teaming with criminals to take down the Wanderer was a first—like a co-op event—but for short-term decisive battle, it bolstered my forces perfectly.
They were the ones stuck, so I could squeeze something out.
"...So, what do you want? As you see, we have nothing to give."
I nearly said to strip that plate armor if they meant it, but held back.
Armor mattered, but with onaholes for the front lines in a pinch, its value dropped for me.
What I wanted was...
"You're a knight, right? Teach me the sword."
I'd need it going forward.