Chapter 23
Chapter 23
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: Gold Solis Party
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The dungeon expedition was proceeding smoothly, and the guests were starting to build camaraderie among themselves.
Yohan, Elise, and Lucas generally stuck together as a trio, but during their free time, they often hung out with Delinger, a halfling thief who frequently dropped by, and Adel, a human ranger.
Oh! You've definitely got talent! Must be your youth! Your eyes and reaction speed are top-notch!
It's best to leave basic scouting to specialized classes, but even outstanding frontliners need to be able to read signs of threat.
The two of them seemed to find the particularly young trio endearing and showered them with advice without holding back.
Huff... huff...
Hoo... hoo... I can't believe we couldn't even touch you.
Hahaha! Did you really think a half-pint like me swinging a dagger with these short arms could be toppled by you cute little string beans? What a shame!
...I didn't think that far.
That means you thought it at least a little!
Ugh-!
Delinger lightly maneuvered his body and playfully locked Lucas—who was clutching his knees and panting—into a headlock.
...Why can't we hit you?
Your attacks are still too straightforward. It's inevitable with your lack of experience.
Adel responded to Yohan's mutter as he lay sprawled on the ground like a starfish.
...Well, we've hit our limits too and rely on tricks like this, but we still broke through to the mid-layers on our own merit. Letting newbies who just entered the dungeon yesterday land a hit would be embarrassing!
...It's been a week already. Ugh-! Ugh-! Delinger! Stop!
One day or one week, same difference!
Delinger chuckled as he tightened his grip on Lucas's neck, and Lucas flailed, slapping at Delinger's skinny forearm while yelping.
Watching the scene, Elise and Adel covered their mouths and laughed.
Still, once you've finished adapting to the layers you've conquered in this expedition and honed your bodies through training, you won't be easy pickings in a straight fight anytime soon.
Delinger said this as he released his arm from around Lucas's neck.
Really?
Hmm... well... don't get too excited. Halflings like me aren't known for raw strength as a race, and neither the weapons I use nor the thief class are particularly powerhouse combatants.
There was an unmistakable hint of regret in Delinger's voice—the kind born from someone who couldn't surpass the walls of their innate talents.
...If even you say that, what does that make us, who couldn't even graze your clothes despite ganging up on you?
Hahat! What else? Chirping little chicks!
Delinger was cackling at the sprawled duo when his expression suddenly hardened.
...Annoying bastard's here.
Delinger's gaze fixed on a man approaching with a swaggering gait and a sleazy grin.
Bugs Lucky Lionel.
Son of an Annihilation Clan executive.
Hah... is this for real?
If it weren't for the Festival of Receiving Flesh, I wouldn't be signing up for this ragtag carrier party.
Bad luck. Just bad luck.
Should've checked out the women first, like always.
He muttered these complaints loud enough for everyone around to hear, fearlessly badmouthing Rusted Silver.
He didn't care that faces stiffened every time he opened his mouth—an utter arrogant prick.
The perfect picture of a wastrel who probably never imagined anything above him under the heavens.
Kekeke. Bunch of total scrubs.
Man, is that sword swinging or are you dancing?
You saying I'm wrong?
What's the deepest floor you've reached?
Ha, you haven't even cleared 18 floors and you're picking a fight with me? Pathetic.
On top of that, he'd slink around groups of other guests, nitpicking their advice, making him universally disliked in less than a week.
But was it because of his backing from the Annihilation Clan executive?
Or because he was a Crawler who'd reached floor 29?
Even the Crawlers, who made their living slaughtering monsters, swallowed their anger in silence.
Huh? What? Keep doing what you were doing.
As five pairs of eyes turned to him, Lionel smirked and spun around with a grin.
Delinger clicked his tongue sharply at the sight.
For some reason, Lionel had a grudge against Rusted Silver and frequently picked fights with the kid trio who were getting along well with her.
Rusted Silver knew it too, and Gold Solis—the party leader—seemed to be biding his time, so Delinger figured Lionel might get his comeuppance eventually.
Better bail here.
No need to brawl with an idiot who'd self-destruct eventually.
A thief who knew how to fight smart lived long.
Ahem. How about we call it for today?
Huh? Already? Let's do a bit more.
Four sets of eyes shot toward Yohan, screaming You idiot?
Yohan had already recovered and was bouncing up, loosening his body for another round.
?
You clueless moron!!!
The four inwardly wailed as Yohan tilted his head at their stares.
Kuh.
Of course, the snake-like man wouldn't miss the mood.
That's what he says. Don't mind me—keep at it.
Though he said that, Lionel plopped down on a nearby rock, clearly intending to watch.
...This moron.
Delinger stared at Yohan—who was obliviously warming up—while wearing an exasperated expression.
Talent-wise, the kid was exceptional... but man, zero situational awareness.
...I'm beat too. Just one more round.
Delinger sighed softly and drew his dagger.
And as the mock battle resumed, sure enough, Lionel tossed out barbs.
Man, is that sword swinging or dancing?
Ha, even then? Like that?
Tch.
Did the god Lionel served have a taunt ability?
His jabs were an art form.
Delinger gritted his teeth, barely holding his scattering focus.
Endure.
Getting dragged in played right into the bastard's hands.
But unlike Delinger's resolve, the one person among the five with zero awareness thought differently.
Yohan paused the exchange, stepped back slightly, and blankly stared at Lionel.
Hey, could you be quiet for a bit? It's noisy, and I can't focus.
...What?
The air froze instantly.
Hah... did I hear wrong? Pretty sure he just told me to shut up.
Lionel said slowly as he rose.
No, you heard right.
...Hah. Unbelievable.
As he cracked his neck threateningly and advanced, Delinger instinctively stepped between them to block.
Calm down a moment.
Outta the way, half-pint.
He's a greenhorn on his first dungeon run. Doesn't know the pecking order yet—cut him slack.
Then isn't it the senior's duty to teach him?
Damn.
Delinger sighed inwardly.
The guy was itching for a fight, and their clueless kid bit hook, line, and sinker.
This wolf wouldn't let the chance slip.
Hey, kid.
?
As Lionel called him "kid" and looked over, Yohan turned to glance behind him—where no one was.
Then, as if asking if he meant him, he pointed at himself with his index finger.
Ha. What a pain in the ass punk.
Taking Yohan's action as provocation, Lionel's aura turned vicious.
You mocking me?
? Not really. I just asked you to be quiet since you're loud.
Haa...
Lionel's head tilted back in disbelief before snapping forward.
Why are you kids so damn rude these days? I offer advice, and you don't even appreciate it.
Yohan's head tilted at that.
Delinger prayed Yohan would just shut up, but unfortunately, the kid had no such sense.
...I didn't realize it was advice. Anyway, I'm learning from Delinger, so I don't need it from you.
...You little...
Danger.
Delinger broke into a cold sweat, sensing Lionel's patience snap.
If things escalated, he'd stir up a commotion to call the carriers—
What's going on here?
A soft voice, yet chillingly cold.
The tense air, on the verge of explosion, settled at once.
Like gravity, every gaze in the space snapped to the voice's owner.
A strikingly beautiful woman stood there.
Rusted Silver—Arjen.
One of the carriers leading this expedition was watching them.
Her usual impassive crimson eyes seemed bloodier than ever.
Pinned by her presence, they fell silent—then the question came again.
What's. The problem?
...Tch.
At Arjen's appearance, Lionel—refusing to admit he'd been cowed—clicked his tongue and turned toward the camp.
Arjen's gaze lingered briefly on his retreating back before shifting to the five dazed onlookers.
And then.
Guess we need to deal with him soon.
Delinger and Adel barely caught the whisper.
Free time's over. Everyone, gather up.
She announced the end of individual time.
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They probably didn't think that incident would end there.
Crash-!
Whoops, watch your step. If you'd heeded my advice, you wouldn't have tripped like that.
But no one anticipated retaliation this swift—and childish.
Yohan, rolling on the ground, blankly stared at his spilled porridge bowl.
As the Novice Package neared its destination of floor 10, they were distributing meals ration-style before the novices returned via recall stones to sort supplies—a perfect opportunity.
Normally, they'd ladle from the communal pot, but while carrying his rationed bowl, Lionel had tripped him.
Watch your feet next time. And heed your elders' advice.
Lionel sneered as he turned away.
Clang-!
...?
He felt a sudden impact on his head and paused in confusion.
Touching the spot, sticky, hot porridge coated his fingers.
Like a broken doll, Lionel's head creaked around.
At the end of that turn stood Yohan, expressionless, frozen mid-throw with his bowl.
In that instant, Lionel's face twisted.
You—fucking—little—!
His enraged roar echoed through the camp.