Rule Breaker

"Wh-where are you going?!"

Everyone stared in horror as I charged down the hill at full speed, shield raised before me. I paid them no mind.

The bomb bugs slammed into my shield.

BOOM! BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!

Every bomb bug that touched the shield detonated in a cascading chain reaction.

Hissssss!

The moment their acid seared my body to its limit—

Heal.

I cast the healing spell on myself. My entire body recovered completely in an instant. I could only use it five times, but with recovery like this, it was more than enough.

Before the bomb bugs could even finish climbing the hill, I tore into their center like a madman. The ones still massing at the base, preparing to ascend, were caught in the blast waves of those ahead of them — and the explosions kept chaining, one after another without end.

BOOM! BOOM-BOOM-BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Detonations that threatened to rupture eardrums.

Heal.

I did not stop. Even as pain twisted my face into a grimace, I kept running at full speed. My plan was simple: wipe out as many bomb bugs as possible before they could reach the hill. To that end, I threw my entire body into the fray like kindling into a fire.

"…Huh."

"…That guy…"

"…"

Isaac, Serengeti, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and Isabella stood atop the hill, staring blankly at the utterly absurd spectacle unfolding below them.

After eliminating roughly ninety-nine percent of the bomb bugs and exhausting every last use of my healing spell, I raised a hand and swapped positions with Serengeti. She and Isabella climbed back up the hill to hold the entrance while Isaac cleaned up the stragglers — and just like that, the floor's trial was complete.

A method utterly different from what had been intended. I had not the slightest intention of dancing to the Demigod's script. I would use everything I had to smash the board it had built.

A warp gate materialized before my eyes. Already halfway through — fifty percent progress. More than twice as fast as when I had challenged this place as Wilhelm.

And then—

A Constellation's quest, delivered right before my eyes. It was a phenomenon I had never seen before, and I could only tilt my head in confusion. A Constellation setting the dungeon's destruction as a quest objective? And not mere destruction — the complete erasure of the dungeon's Will itself.

A truly special reward, huh.

It might even mean a Constellation's treasure on the level of Gingoa. This was the same presence that had shown interest in me from the moment I entered the dungeon. So what kind of intimate connection did the Constellation of the Shining Hero share with this place?

In that very instant—

…What the hell is it doing?

Everything had rested upon a perfectly constructed board. Rules that had remained unchanged across countless ages. And then, out of nowhere, this abnormal existence had appeared — and the Will could not comprehend it.

Why does he refuse to follow the rules?

From the moment of entry, he had arbitrarily deleted one of the four propositions. And that was not all. He had transformed on a whim, then used a skill to tame a werewolf — an act of pure eccentricity. Despite choosing the healer role, he had taken up a shield only tankers were meant to wield, charged forward alone, and single-handedly shattered a trial designed for endurance.

Rule Breaker. He was fundamentally different from every human who had ever challenged this place.

If you will not abide by the rules, then neither shall I.

And so the Will pierced him. Through its eyes, there was nothing it could not see, nothing it could not uncover. It intended to discover his weaknesses and craft the most difficult trial imaginable — a trial he would never break, one that would leave him broken in despair or dead.

I will pierce you. Your secrets, your weaknesses, everything you are!

It was an act that violated the dungeon's own rules — but ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the man was a Rule Breaker as well. The Will had already conceded that no normal method could capture this abnormal existence.

Any moment now, the man's memories and everything else would surface. From among them, the Will planned to expose the most tragic and shocking secret, and crush him with it.

And yet—

…What is this?

The Will was flustered. In all the time since its creation, it had never been flustered by a human. It had no choice.

I can't see anything?

…Because there was nothing to see. Absolutely nothing. When it pierced the abnormal existence, only a pitch-black darkness filled its vision. Something vast stood in its way, blocking it completely. But what, exactly?

The Demigod's Will. A transcendent mental entity derived from a great being — that was what it was. And this was a dungeon. To block its absolute power of piercing within a dungeon, one would need to be a being of at least equal rank.

Then… was this human its equal?

I refuse to accept that.

The Demigod continued to pierce. It failed endlessly, yet it could not bring itself to accept the truth. Only after hundreds, then thousands of failures did the Will finally turn its gaze elsewhere.

Fine. If I cannot see you, then I will pierce those who came with you!

Did I ask a pointless question?

Having passed through the Chamber of Truth, Isabella clenched and unclenched her fist over and over, wrestling with the thought that kept rising unbidden. The question of whether he was truly a Star's Successor — she had been the one to ask it.

From the first moment they met in the desert, Randolph had broken her curse. He had led her out of the desert and shown her the world. The memory of arriving in the golden city of Arcana through a warp gate was one she would never forget for as long as she lived. He had even promised that if she served him for a single year, he would find her origins — her bloodline.

And still, deep in my heart, I doubted him.

Was he truly a Star's Successor? By her understanding, a Star's Successor was one who chased the stars. But Randolph was less a Star's Successor than the master of the stars themselves. A Star's Successor could not become a master of stars. Their role was only to seek out such a master and guide others to them.

Honestly, it did not matter. Even if he was not a Star's Successor — he had already proven himself through countless extraordinary deeds.

I just wanted to know if it was a lie or the truth.

She simply wanted to cast off that last lingering shred of doubt. Star's Successor, successor to the Knight King, Fifth Lord recognized by the White King… whatever his true identity, it made no difference. It had been her own problem all along.

And so, when she heard his answer, she had breathed a sigh of relief. Then she had been disgusted with herself for that sigh. She had claimed it did not matter — yet no one fretted over it more than she did. The contradiction made her sick.

"Ah…"

Watching Randolph charge down the hill alone, Isabella swallowed a low sound. The man who, amid the roar of explosions, had driven the bomb bugs to the brink of annihilation by himself. He had finished alone what four people were meant to do — as if he needed no one's help at all.

And it was not only today.

The indomitable warrior. The reckless challenger who never falls.

That was the kind of man he was. In every experience she had shared with Randolph, he had always challenged, and not once had he fallen. Instead, he had proven himself and claimed victory. His identities were countless, but in the end, Randolph was simply Randolph — sometimes reckless, sometimes honorable, and at times cold beyond measure.

If it had been her… could she have charged alone and produced a scene like that? Bomb bugs did not merely explode — they sprayed powerful acid. Even as his flesh melted and bone was laid bare, he never once released his grip on the shield. An endurance that could scarcely be called human. Even as he groaned through the pain, he never gave up.

He is a savior.

Randolph was a savior who spanned an era. He had saved her, saved a city, shattered a curse, and sealed the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Gatekeeper of Ruin. Isabella bit her lip.

I need to be of help too.

She could not keep receiving forever. She had pledged to serve him — and what had she actually done? Nothing but harbor those pathetic little doubts.

She shook her head and stepped through the warp.

The moment she crossed the warp, the Chamber of Truth appeared once more.

Again?

Isabella tilted her head. She could not understand why a trial they had passed with such ease — practically a free ride — was being repeated. Without any particular suspicion, she made the oath and wrote down her question. Then, once more, in a room where the entire party seemed gathered, the questions began.

The moment she saw the question, Isabella's pupils flared with violent emotion.

Isaac, too.

Serengeti as well.

Looking at the questions that had appeared, none of them could help but panic. Who on earth would ask something like this? No — there was only one person who could even produce questions of this nature.

Randolph.

These were things only he knew, only he could know. The Star's Successor. His ability to see through everything. The way he always acted as if he already knew it all. No one else could possibly craft such questions.

All three of them turned to Randolph in alarm. Under their collective gaze, he did not so much as flinch. Shamelessly so.

There's no way I can speak the truth…

A chamber where only the truth could be spoken. But what if the truth was a fact you never wanted anyone to know? The moment the question was asked, suspicious eyes turned upon them. It felt as though everyone was doubting them — sneering, mocking, asking if that was truly all they amounted to.

They were afraid.

…I was watching the whole scene from a distance.

Images floated before my eyes — three figures undergoing their trials, projected like holograms. This trial was being conducted separately in three different rooms. It was completely different from the previous Chamber of Truth. It looked as though the entire party was gathered, but everyone except the person being questioned was a fake — an illusion crafted by the Will.

Surrounded by phantoms, they were suffering under the questions the Will had posed. And they were staring at me in shock, convinced I was the one who had asked them.

What an amusing situation. The dungeon's master, volunteering to leave. I had torn through its dungeon so thoroughly that it could do nothing to me — so instead, it was tormenting my party members. Trying to make them doubt me. Trying to erode their trust.

"Disgusting."

In some ways, it was worse than a Demon King. To think a being praised as the Will of a great Demigod could be this vile. This dungeon was infamous as a trash heap — but the only trash here was the Will itself.

Everyone was suffering. Forced to face the truth and answer.

The problem was that this was not the only question they would have to answer. Three questions, designed to shatter their minds completely and transform their faith in me into distrust. And even clearing this trial would be a problem. It was engineered so that once distrust took root, the trial could never be broken. They might resent me for the rest of their lives. It might even be better to abandon this place and clear a different dungeon first.

"Understood."

I nodded.

A path to the exit. A warp gate shimmered into view. Yes. Now I understood with certainty. There was nothing it could do to me. And that was not all I had learned.

"Demigod's Will. So you are here as well."

I smiled. The place where I now stood was no trial chamber at all. It was close enough to the Will's domain that it could speak to me directly. The Will was nearby. If their trials concluded successfully, that would be the moment the Will itself appeared. It was urging me to leave —

I fully intended to kill it.