It's Called an Academy

Do you know what a dragon looks like when it's exhausted?

"Grrrreeee..."

Tongue lolling out, it collapses flat on the floor and doesn't so much as twitch. Eyes slightly unfocused, completely limp—it looks for all the world like a taxidermied hide.

Kallion had taken down one more opponent than I'd expected, and the state of him was nothing you could call good even as a joke.

His proud scales were cracked and shattered in places. The brown scales that once carried a black sheen had been forcibly regenerated over and over with skills, and their color was steadily fading. That alone told me how hard he'd pushed himself.

Because of it, he'd taken hits to the flesh more than a few times.

His whole body was a mass of wounds. The left eye was completely ruptured; blood kept welling and dripping from the crumpled empty socket. Even the tail he usually wielded so freely was barely hanging on by the tough muscle at the root, shredded to ribbons.

So this is as far as he goes.

Honestly, even the last fight had been a forced win.

I'd braced myself to take the enemy's attacks, wrung out every last drop of stamina and mana to reinforce his strength, and at the same time used Dragon Blood to grow scales in a pinpoint burst right where he'd seized the enemy's head—skewering it clean through.

That was how the Western Grand Inspector, Mischievous Wenji, met her end.

The moment I confirmed it, I summoned the Hive and sent only the shadow crows to gather the scales shattered and scattered around us.

Both the Hive and Kallion counted as my skills, so they slipped through the barrier without any resistance and entered the arena as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Grruuuuh..."

Kallion watched the flock of shadow crows harvesting his broken scales and let out a mournful, almost tearful cry.

Don't overdo it, you idiot. I'm not eating you. Stop whining and wait a little.

I stuffed everything the crows brought into a bag made of shadow, then dismissed Kallion and resummoned him, forcibly yanking him out of the arena.

The broken, blood-soaked, corpse-strewn arena instantly became clean again. As if nothing had ever happened, cheerful music filled the place. I gave a short whistle.

"Grrreuk...!"

At the same time the commentator started hurrying us, I resummoned Kallion with a massive infusion of mana. He appeared looking healthy again—and immediately flinched, sneaking behind Growl. Looks like this whole ordeal had thoroughly burned him.

"Now do you get what I meant?"

"Grrrng..."

He nodded furiously in agreement. The playful little troublemaker from before was gone; now he looked like a fresh recruit with his nerves wound tight.

Even after being put through the wringer like that, he was pressed flat to the floor, whimpering with a strangely grateful expression. It was almost pitiful. Those desperate, sparkling eyes made me wonder if I'd pushed him too hard—but I steeled myself.

Yeah. You have to go this hard once so he doesn't pull the same crap next time.

Besides, this had let me properly establish his combat style. Looking at the results alone, it wasn't bad.

"Hold onto this."

"Grrng?"

I reshaped the bag to fit Kallion's body and secured it tightly so it wouldn't fall. Then I entered the arena with every summon in tow.

Kallion still looked reluctant, but with me beside him this time he began taking cautious steps forward.

Good. Being careful never hurt anyone. Raising his intelligence had been an excellent call. Strength is already plenty; keep focusing on that side from now on.

Crackle.

In that instant sparks leapt across the sky and every sound around us vanished at once. No cheering crowd, no stamping feet. Only an eerie silence remained as the commentator's voice returned.

The voice stuttered like a broken radio, then cut off completely. The scenery around us snapped back to the state it had been in when I'd last recalled Kallion.

The cheerful tone from moments ago had been thrown away somewhere; now the voice dripped with murderous intent.

Grrrnnnnnk!!! Boom!!!

At the same time the arena gates slammed shut, and from the far side the ones Kallion had already faced began emerging one after another, eyes blazing crimson.

"Keh-heh-heh."

"Guooooooh."

The Red Cap with its crushed red hat now carried far more professional gear. The orc that had once only had massive arms was now enormous all over—over four meters tall—with veins bulging grotesquely across its entire body.

"Ahahahaha!!!"

"..."

A wild-haired woman burst into mad laughter as she dragged a pair of scissors larger than her own body across the ground. Behind her came a towering man wrapped head to toe in bandages like a mummy; he silently tightened the wrappings around himself even further.

Last of all, a woman drew a greatsword and a thick-barreled revolver, a cynical smile on her lips as she stepped forward.

Every single one of them looked different from before. The earlier appearances had been fakes; they were flaunting that they'd been holding back, now radiating a far more vicious presence. I bared my teeth in a savage grin and flipped the empty air the bird.

"Foul play, my ass. You were planning this from the start."

The biggest difference between a quest dungeon and an event dungeon that I hadn't explained earlier.

It comes down to whether the 'boss' ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠inside the dungeon is the one actively running the show.

In a quest dungeon the subject is the quest itself. Completing it is everything, and the environment throws every possible trial at you to hinder that progress.

But an event dungeon is different. The subject here is the 'Champion'.

What exactly is a Champion of the arena? A king. The absolute ruler of this tiny nation called the arena. The head honcho, the boss. That is the dungeon's goal and its entirety.

The boss, the Champion, must use any means necessary to keep challengers from ever reaching his height—so he can protect his throne. The dungeon itself has imposed that duty on the Champion who is also its boss.

Only then can he remain king.

Even if that throne is nothing but an illusion that ceases to exist the moment no one acknowledges it, to the boss this place is everything.

The reason he allowed Kallion—who counts as my skill—to enter as a challenger was nothing more than a pretext. The peculiarity of this dungeon lies in piercing the challenger's 'weakness'.

So of course the boss has to know the 'weakness' of whoever steps inside. Only then can he prepare countermeasures.

But what if an enemy the boss simply cannot beat shows up? Someone who holds the means to overcome any weakness? How is he supposed to deal with that?

Simple. He throws every tool he has at them.

No—his existing tools alone aren't enough. He has to crush them with overwhelming, superior force. The only way to break free of the numerical limits binding a D-rank dungeon.

To seize that narrative justification, the 'boss' of this dungeon is throwing a tantrum and claiming I broke the rules.

"The bastard still hiding in the back sure talks a lot."

I raised shadows and wrapped them around my entire body. When I compressed more mana than usual, the shadows responded by taking shape. They didn't stop at covering me.

They dyed Growl's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠body black, seeped into every wing of the Hive and honed them sharp as blades. Kallion's whole frame thickened as if a massive suit of armor had been layered over him, and a blade like a fang tian ji fixed itself to the tip of his tail.

That alone burned through sixty percent of my mana. After reinforcing every summon, I condensed the remaining shadows into a shadow sword, finished my preparations, and let out a short breath.

"Come at me."

Bang! Whoosh!!

The instant the words left my mouth, the sound of a bullet and an arrow being loosed rang out.

I reinforced my vision with mana for a split second and the world around me slowed. Skill Combat Focus had activated.

With concentration skyrocketing and mana layered on top, the blurry bullet and arrow in the distance snapped into sharp clarity. The sound had been a single shot, yet six bullets were already racing toward my vitals.

I swung my sword in a rapid arc, batting the slow-moving projectiles aside, and at the same time felt the vibration under my feet—ready to leap backward. But the sensation transmitted from the Hive made me change plans; instead of retreating I ducked forward and sprinted.

KWAANG!! Thud!!

"Kihiiik!"

Black thorned vines erupted from the spot where I'd been standing and from behind it a beat later, piercing the empty air.

If I'd jumped back I would have been tangled in those vines and taken the next attack for free. When Kallion had fought that woman earlier, the vine-and-poison combo had given him hell.

"Growl."

Without a word of reply Growl shot forward, charging the one swinging a fist at me while tracing a sword path.

Crunch!

"Graaaaaaah...!!!"

I glanced at the spray of blood with one eye, then batted away another silent bullet aimed at me and transformed my sword into a bow, nocking an arrow.

Twang!!

Target: the wild-haired woman with the scissors. The plants she created were holy-attribute. The mana-charged arrow streaked straight toward her. The bandaged man stepped in front of it, spreading both hands; a murky gray aura expanded into a barrier.

"Tch."

Blocked. That defense had tanked Kallion's tail strikes multiple times without a scratch. Even with extra mana, my bow's power was weaker than that.

Without waiting to see the result I switched the bow to a spear, shared mana with the Hive, and scattered shadow crows in every direction.

"Kallion!"

"Grrruuuung!!!!"

At the same time I dumped their aggro onto Kallion. The tail whip aimed precisely at the bandaged man who had blocked my arrow tore through the air with a terrifying sonic boom.

Crash!!

"...!"

"Ki-kihik!"

Already strained from blocking the arrow, he hastily spread his arms to widen the barrier against the tail coming from a different angle—but a slapdash shield like that could never hold.

The barrier he'd been maintaining for the arrow shattered at the same time; the arrow punched into the bandaged man's shoulder, and Kallion's tail kept its momentum, spinning his body again for another lash.

Whoooosh!

"...!!"

The barrier was too late. Realizing it, murky aura began to ripple across the bandaged man's entire body. He spread himself as wide as possible, bracing to catch the tail.

Bingo.

I curled my lips into a smirk. Stronger than before or not, their behavioral patterns hadn't changed at all.

Treating me and Kallion as separate entities—that was their fatal mistake.

I wasn't the only one who had experienced their combat. While batting away incoming bullets I twisted my body to dodge a red arrow that snuck through a gap.

At the same moment the shadow crows obstructed the vision of the gardener, the Red Cap, and the gun-inspector, I adjusted my grip on the spear and poured mana into it. Target: the bandaged man. No need for a running start.

Thwack!!!

"....!!!!"

The shadow spear that landed the instant he blocked Kallion's tail punched clean through the bandaged man's side. As if that weren't enough I clenched my fist hard, releasing the mana I'd compressed inside the spear.

KWA-AAAAANG!!!

The shadow spear expanded in volume and exploded outward. The man's upper and lower halves, skewered like a kebab, flew apart cleanly.

"One."

The bandaged man could both heal and tank, so he had been priority kill number one. I'd aimed at the gardener from the start precisely to get at this fallen monk. The gardener was annoying, but not as annoying as him.

To make absolutely sure, I'd deliberately overused mana and finished him cleanly. Still, I wasn't going to let him die just yet. Not yet.

"$%#$%@#^%@!!!!!"

The moment I activated the skill, the man who had been lying motionless as if already dead suddenly thrashed, flailing both arms in a desperate attempt to regenerate his body.

He hadn't even groaned when the spear went through him, yet now he was screaming a silent scream, struggling to erase the pain. It was pointless.

Every time he resisted the agony, the black-red current flowing from his body grew thicker.

"Kyaak!!"

Heeding the Hive's warning I ducked under a flying bullet, then rolled sideways to put distance between myself and a sweeping greatsword.

At the same time I extended the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shadows that had already seeped into his wounds, into his blood vessels and muscles, turning them into thorns that raked his insides.

With every additional needle the bandaged man's upper body convulsed and foam began to spill from his mouth.

At first he had struggled to live; now he bit his own tongue to escape the pain even a second sooner. When that failed he choked himself, and when that still wasn't enough he started slamming ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his head into the ground without restraint.

Bang! Crunch! Crack, crack!!!!

After dozens of repetitions the bandaged man finally reached death. The black-red currents that burst from him gathered in the air and formed three perfect skull shapes.

Skill Sadism was level 4; each token boosted intelligence by 4. Three tokens absorbed at once would give me a full 12 points of intelligence in an instant.

Clack-clack-clack!!

The skulls that struck their teeth together and sparked fire shrank and melted into my mana; the blue mana began to glow black-red.

I immediately dismissed the system messages floating in front of me, pulled that power in, recovered the scattered fragments of the shadow spear, reshaped them into a sword, and swung it behind me without looking.

Clang!!!

A massive greatsword and my shadow blade collided and rebounded. Unlike me, who recovered my stance instantly, the gun-inspector woman who had been holding the greatsword staggered, balance broken by the impact.

Of course. She'd just taken an attack reinforced by mana that had reached 50, further amplified 60% by the effect of Transformation Freedom.

Before she could fix her stance, a shadow crow diving from the sky seized her tattered robe and yanked. She shot the crow dead without even looking, but that single instant was more than enough for me to gather mana and set a trap under her feet.

Shraak!!

Shadow thorns burst up and skewered one of the gun-inspector's legs. I swung my sword into the opening, but without the slightest hesitation she chopped off her own leg with the greatsword, toppled backward, and dodged the blade aimed at her neck.

She cut off her own leg?

She'd bought herself a moment of life, but that was clearly a bad move. If the opponent were a real person she might have chosen to flee—after all, as long as you're alive in this world you can regenerate missing limbs.

But that thing was only a 'monster' that looked like a person. Running away like that left her with no future. The party's only recovery option was the one I'd killed first.

Ping!

Without caring I immediately switched the sword to a spear, spun it, and thrust—but an arrow sniping the gap and a vibration through the ground forced me to fling myself sideways.

In that brief window the gun-inspector had retreated far back, and the gardener with her raised scissors was already at her side.

Massive thorned vines had grown up as if to protect them, blooming poisonous purple flowers that began scattering glittering powder. I raised mana to charge in, then had to abandon the idea.

"Tch."

Closing the distance was impossible. Forcing an attack now would mean inhaling the poison for sure. I still had the boss to face; I didn't want any unstable variables.

Leaving them not fully dead was a shame, but stripping the main dealer of mobility was enough. If they chose to dig in and hold, I could simply go somewhere else. I still had plenty of attack options left.

Ting! Ting!

I batted away flying bullets with the spear, switched to a bow, and loosed arrows at the orc that Kallion and Growl were barely holding down together.

Thud!

Its huge body meant I hit wherever I aimed. But the thick layer of fat seemed to blunt any real damage; the giant orc kept swinging its fists only at Kallion and Growl, rampaging wildly.

"Guwaaaaaaah!!!!"

Thud! Thud! Thud!!

Unable to contain its rage it began pounding the ground, forcing Kallion and Growl to pull back for a moment.

Even with blood pouring from its body in alarming amounts it didn't stop; it charged straight at Growl and threw a punch. It had lost so much blood that rational thought was already gone.

"Grrng!!"

Kallion stepped in front and blocked it.

Enlarged by the shadows I'd layered on him plus Dragon Blood and Reverse Scale, he used his foreleg like a shield to catch the blow, then spun and slammed a counter into the orc's head with his tail.

Crunch!!

"Gu-uhhhh...?"

The blade had sunk halfway into its skull, yet the orc still wasn't dead. Astonishing vitality—but the hit location was bad; it started swinging its fists at empty air. I seized the opening, formed a shadow spear, and hurled it at its arm.

Crack!

The spear buried itself precisely in the shoulder joint; one of the arms flailing wildly at nothing went limp.

Kallion immediately pinned the remaining hand, and Growl, who had been waiting behind, raised his claws and carved through the thick flesh. The orc, neck already half-severed, died without even managing a proper scream.

"That's two."

I caught the Red Cap's blade that had slipped through the Hive's shadow crows and appeared behind me with the shadows wrapped around my hand, locking it in place.

"Kehii!!"

Even then it kept smiling that greasy smile and slashed at my neck dozens of times with the blade in its other hand—but the shadow clothes reinforced by mana that had reached 50 refused to let any half-hearted attack through.

I returned the favor by forming a gauntlet on my free hand and smashing it into the creature's face.

Crack!

"Keuk...?!"

Even under the extreme agony brought by Sadism and Torture it tried to escape, but I didn't allow it. Instead I crushed the hand I'd seized until the bones ground together, slammed the creature to the floor, and mounted it in a position perfect for beating.

"Growl, Kallion."

"Woof!!"

"Grrng!"

Even while I was busy I sent Growl and Kallion after the ones still aiming guns and plants at me. I kept my arms moving with stubborn precision, hammering the face of the goblin that had tried to ambush me from behind.

Thud, crunch! Crack!

Every blow was packed with mana, each one vicious. Its face crumpled like tofu and caved in. After pulverizing its face exactly as many times as it had swung a weapon at me, I released the effect of skill Torture.

"That's three."

I wiped the blood that had splattered on my face roughly and stood. Honestly, the moment Mischievous Wenji's leg was cut off this 'hunt' had already been over.

The plants of Cream, Gardener of the Monstrous Garden had a limited range; as long as I didn't give her distance there was nothing to fear.

Most of her abilities only shone when she acted as pure support. In multi-person fights she almost never stepped forward herself—just launched underhanded ambushes through her plants from the rear.

Inside the poison mist a bunker of vines had taken shape. In that short time the plants had grown and tangled into a natural fortress.

I transferred mana to Kallion both to heal the wounds the orc had given him and to extend the shadow blade on his tail, reshaping it into a massive disc and packing it full of mana.

Ssshing, ssshing.

The razor edge of the disc sang a cold note every time Kallion moved his tail. I ordered him to swing that tail at the vine bunker.

"Slice everything hiding inside in one go."

"Grrrng!!!"

I mounted Growl and moved out of Kallion's tail range; Kallion began spinning in place like a dog chasing its own tail.

Bang! Bang-bang-bang!!

Bullets poured out of the bunker in a frenzy, but they couldn't even scratch the scales reinforced by shadow and Reverse Scale; they just fell to the floor as lead lumps.

Sssaaaaaaaaaang!!!

With every rotation the blade hanging from the tip of the tail howled louder. Once enough speed had built up, Kallion lunged forward and swung.

Shhhreeeek!!!

There was no dull impact. Like parting water, the blade sliced cleanly through the vine bunker. The vines collapsed; something inside toppled with a wet sound, and blood began to pool thickly on the floor.

Nice clean mowing.

"Four, five."

Cleanup complete. With that I looked up at the empty air. Only intermittent static answered; nothing else. A savage smile spread across my face as I sneered.

"Why so quiet? Why don't you run your mouth like before?"

You cowardly bastard.

It was a cheap taunt, but given the results it was devastatingly effective.

Grrrnnnnnn...!!!

The entire arena began to shake as if an earthquake had hit, and then the iron bars on the far side started to open. Of course they did. Some so-called king had been dragged down by force—how could he just sit still?

Thud.

From beyond the darkness a pair of crimson eyes swayed closer. I looked down at it from above the arena. The hierarchy was clearly wrong. Right now that thing looked every bit the 'challenger'.

Bam-ba-ba-bam!!! Bam-bam-bam! Bam-ba-ba-bam!!!

A flashy brass fanfare blared through the arena, yet not a single spectator answered. It felt like cheerful BGM playing in a ruined amusement park—eerie as hell. And what appeared was a single wolf.

Not an ordinary wolf, either.

Its grotesque appearance—as if someone had taken a human and a wolf and mixed them halfway—made anyone looking at it frown. Too bizarre to call a wolf beastman, yet it still carried a faint human scent that made the label 'werewolf' feel slightly off.

If I had to put it into words: a wolf monster that was stubbornly insisting on a human shape.

A half-baked abomination that belonged to neither side. That was my first impression of the 'Champion'.

"So that's what you look like?"

Looks exactly like your personality.

"I will kill you no matter what...!"

The creature's voice and the broken commentator's voice overlapped in a bizarre way.

The 'boss' with bloodshot eyes bared its teeth and unleashed killing intent. Its muscles swelled massively; claws lengthened, and multicolored fur of every hue began sprouting from the previously bare patches.

Puh-kwaaak!!

At the same time various monster body parts burst out through its back, and I felt a grim satisfaction that my first guess had been correct.

"A chimera, huh."

In other words, a synthetic beast. More precisely, an artificially created patchwork monster. Classified as a type of artificial human, a homunculus.

"Do not equate me with those trash!!!!"

The commentator's voice was gone now. Only a grotesque sound—as if dozens of living beings were speaking the same words at once—poured from its mouth. The monster that had almost completely shed its human form roared in fury.

"I will kill you myself!!! Consider it an honor, garbage!!!"

The system message rang out the moment its transformation finished. Letters wriggled into existence above its head.

Snap!

Faced with the unmistakable form of a boss monster, I snapped my fingers to draw every gaze, then issued the order without delay.

"Wreck it."

The bastard that was hiding sure talks a lot. Talks.