The Champion of the Arena

Luden pressed on.

He'd taken a burn to his left arm in the fight against the Inferno Wolf, but a healing bandage quickly dulled the pain. It would take some time to fully recover, but it shouldn't slow him down much.

True enough, the mechanisms and monsters that appeared from that point on had grown stronger, yet Luden cleared them all without much trouble.

I'll have to thank the Black Wolf Tribe.

Having hunted alongside the tribe for several days, Luden could feel that his instincts had sharpened compared to before. Small signs he would once have missed entirely now registered with him instantly. The Status Window didn't show it, but his perception and focus had improved.

Keeeeeek!!

Waiting until the last possible moment as a Blood Gnoll came charging in, Luden sprang aside and swung his blade. His target was the unprotected throat mid-sprint.

Swish!

Head severed in an instant, the Blood Gnoll died without even a scream. Like the goblin shaman, it was a powerful variant monster — but against the Luden of now, it was no match at all.

"So that leaves one more."

Luden didn't let his guard down. Even killing the last monster wouldn't end the quest. He didn't know what lay behind the question mark, but judging by everything so far, it would be anything but simple.

His pace quickened. Before long, a light appeared ahead — not the flicker of a torch, but a pure, brilliant white. Its meaning was clear.

"I wonder what's coming."

Murmuring with unmistakable curiosity, Luden wore an eager expression as he stepped through.

The place looked as though an ancient colosseum had been recreated in miniature. A broad fighting pit, ringed by a circular gallery of spectator seats — a space entirely out of place in a temple.

But what really made Luden's brow furrow was something ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠else entirely.

Gwoooooooar―!!

"You've got to be kidding me. Why is there a Minotaur here?!"

A body over four meters tall, packed with muscles on the verge of bursting. The bull-headed beast snorted again and again, its blazing eyes fixed on the foolhardy human daring to challenge it. A champion awaiting its challenger in the arena — and its identity was the Minotaur.

"Nobody said anything about this!"

Kuwoong! Kuwoong!

Before the scowling Luden, the charging Minotaur brought its halberd crashing down. With no time to curse his luck, Luden darted out of the way.

KWAAANG!

With a thunderous roar, the arena floor erupted as if it had exploded. The force was greater even than the troll Luden had faced in the past.

"But you're slow."

Blue lightning flashed as his blade carved into the Minotaur. Blood sprayed, and the sensation of slicing through flesh came through clearly. Yet Luden's expression was far from pleased.

Too shallow.

Flashing Thunderstrike was the most powerful skill he possessed. And it had barely broken the skin. What an absurdly tough body this thing had.

Gwoooooar.

"Right. So it won't go down that easily, huh?"

He'd meant to save it for the final quest, but this was no time for thrift. Having put distance between himself and the Minotaur, Luden slipped a hand into his pocket.

"If my stats are lacking, I just raise them."

Feeling the heat of his body surging, Luden gripped a dagger in his left hand. He'd never trained in dual wielding, but the Swordsmanship skill's bonus would still apply. Against monsters rather than men, efficiency mattered more than refined technique.

Preparations complete, Luden watched the Minotaur charge again. It intended to bowl him over with sheer momentum.

Luden's body soared ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠high. Passing just beneath him, the Minotaur couldn't stop its charge and slammed straight into the wall.

Kuuwoong.

The violent impact shook the entire arena.

"Nobody ever calls a bull smart. What a brute."

Clicking his tongue, Luden rushed at the Minotaur embedded in the wall.

Storm Sword

3rd Form — Swift Wind

A blade mark was carved into the broad, defenseless backside. Unlike before, the sensation of the blade biting deep into flesh came through properly. Raising his stats had been the right call.

Shrieking, the Minotaur spun its massive body and swung its halberd, but Luden ducked nearly flat to the ground to evade it. The wind pressure whipped his hair about.

It's tough. Finishing this in one blow won't be easy.

Bouncing back to his feet, Luden drove the dagger in his left hand deep into the Minotaur's thigh. As the enormous frame dropped to one knee, their eyes finally came level.

The Minotaur's eyes blazed upward. It was humiliation. The champion of the arena, a mighty being brought to its knees before a mere human — the fact left an indelible wound on its pride. Only one thing could wash it away now: killing this man.

Face twisted with rage, the Minotaur rose at once and swung its halberd.

Luden slipped through the ferocious barrage by the narrowest of margins. It almost looked like a dance — or like a frantic scramble to escape. And in the middle of one of those razor-thin moments, Luden's sword moved.

Storm Sword

1st Form — Razor Wind

Chwak.

Blood sprayed. Not Luden's — the Minotaur's.

Wounds accumulated one after another across the massive body, until before long its entire frame was drenched in red. No ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠matter how much stamina a monster might have beyond a human's, bleeding that much meant death. Proof of it came as the Minotaur's breathing grew ragged and its eyes dimmed.

Seeing the beast's momentum falter, Luden's eyes gleamed.

His full-force uppercut slammed into the jaw, and the Minotaur's body went rigid. A single instant — but more than enough of an opening for a finisher.

Luden's blade sheared through the Minotaur's neck. Blood geysered skyward as the enormous body crashed to the ground.

"Haah. No matter how I think about it, I feel cheated."

Sinking to the ground, Luden let the complaints spill out.

"So this is the end of the temple."

Past the arena where he'd fought the Minotaur, Luden at last reached the temple's innermost sanctum. Waiting before his eyes was none other than an altar. Crafted from a heavy, pitch-black material, it radiated nothing but unease.

Luden lifted his head and looked above the altar.

"A statue?"

There stood an exquisitely sculpted ice statue of a knight. It brimmed with such lifelike vitality that it seemed it might move at any moment, and its form — gleaming as it reflected the light and the biting chill — carried an air of the sublime. If this hadn't been a dungeon, if the atmosphere had been different, Luden might have marveled at its beauty.

But the presence emanating from the ice statue was not holiness. It was menace — and that alone made it clear this was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠no mere statue. The presence was familiar to Luden, too. Naturally so: it was the same mana he'd felt only moments ago.

"This is... the Mana of Madness?"

The moment he named the sinister aura flowing from the statue—

"Hermos?"

He'd never heard the name. Who on earth was he, to be sealed away in a place like this? According to Vargar, the Black Temple had existed in Wolf Forest since ages long past. That would make this seal just as ancient — perhaps the name Hermos might even appear in some historical text.

But that wasn't what mattered now.

"The dungeon reward changes depending on my choice?"

Judging by the name, the Tear of the Holy Deity had to be the Silver Blood Luden had been after. His original reason for entering the Black Temple was to obtain it. Among the dungeons he planned to clear afterward were places tainted by curses, and conquering them required artifacts or potions with potent curative power — the problem being that such things were extremely hard to come by. Curative items were even rarer than healing ones; even a low-grade antidote potion sold for a filthy price. That was exactly why the Silver Blood was something he had to have.

"If I can get the Tear by reinforcing the seal, that's not bad."

The mercenary company that would come later had probably made the same choice and obtained the Tear as well. Of course, without a quest, they'd have used some other method — but there was no reason to unseal the thing and fight Hermos if he didn't have to.

And yet Luden's gaze drifted to the first reward.

"The Drop of the Holy Deity. From the name alone, it's clearly better than the Tear."

Slaying the knight would be harder than reinforcing the seal, so the reward was bound to be superior. But there was no guarantee it possessed curative power, and no guarantee he could actually kill Hermos. The quest said the knight would be weakened, but judging by mana potent enough to drive every monster outside the temple into madness, Hermos would surely be far stronger than the Minotaur he'd just fought.

"And I'm out of Bread of Vitality and the other items, too."

So that hadn't been the moment to use them after all.

Before the two choices, Luden fell deep into thought. But the quest gave him no time to deliberate.

"What?!"

The message practically shouted hurry up and choose — and it meant every word. Luden panicked.

"W-wait! Just give me a moment to think—"

Luden's mind began racing. In the end, it came down to a single question: gamble, or play it safe? All he had to do was weigh which choice benefited him more.

Right. There's no real need to take the risk.

What he'd been after all along was the Tear, not the Drop. There was no reason to court danger. Be careful here.

"No. I can't do that."

The Tear alone would accomplish his goal. But was settling for that really enough? The goals he had set for himself were far harder and more grueling than this — so much so that even knowing the future, he wasn't certain he could manage them. And yet, knowing all that, Luden steeled his resolve. He refused to let slip this chance to right the wrongs he had committed.

"If I was going to chicken out here, I never should have started."

"I choose option one."

After all his agonizing, Luden's choice was not the seal — but the kill. Honestly, it scared him a little. But without risking danger, there was no moving forward. If the risk promised a greater reward, then all that remained was to take the challenge.