(Riven POV – Dungeon, Floor 15)
I step onto the fifteenth floor, and nothing jumps me. There are no sudden roar, or hidden ambushes.
It's… disappointing.
"Is the dungeon getting lazy?" I mutter jokingly. "I almost feel bored."
My words must've offended the dungeon, or by pure coincidence…
A faint rumble shivers through the wall, and an innocent smile worms it's way onto my face.
"Yay!" I cheer.
'Will it be a Minataur? I came looking for one of those!' I think, bracing myself with a spark of excitement boiling in my chest. Something big, something strong, something—
"Oh."
My anticipation dies a miserable death as a Dungeon Worm bursts from the wall, its mouth opened wide enough to swallow me whole.
"I was hoping for something new…" I sigh, summoning Sword and swinging it casually, fully expecting to bisect the thing in one go. But instead…
The world stutters into slow motion.
One moment I'm striking at the Worm, and the next, my body jerks on its own, feet pushing me back, Sword snapping up above my head, its flat edge angled like a shield between me and—
[Notice: Fatal attack detected. Auto-Battle mode engaged.]
I don't resist, my complete trust in GS.
But I can't help thinking—
'Fatal attack from where—?'
My vision turns red.
Flames roar from above, swallowing the corridor in a wave of blistering heat. My skin tingles before the fire even reached me. The heat is capable of incinerating an adventurer in seconds.
A moment later, I finally notice them.
Four Hellhounds, dropping from the ceiling like burning meteors, their jaws open with fire flooding from their mouths. The Dungeon Worm was just a distraction.
'The dungeon's so petty.' I think grimly. 'I just complained a little, and it does this.'
I don't have Salamander Wool to resist the flames, and a direct hit would roast me alive.
'Thanks for the head up GS, but I've got this.'
[Notice: Auto-Battle mode deactivated.]
GS uses Auto-Battle mode to try and keep me unharmed, but…
The flames close around me, sealing off every route of escape. The heat presses into my lungs, burning, suffocating, eager to consume me…
But my pulse stays steady.
I exhale.
"Ariel."
The chant leaves my lips softly, but the effect is anything but gentle.
Wind explodes around me in a spiraling vortex.
Sword hums in my grip as currents coil around the blade, sharpening its edge with invisible force.
More wind spirals around my body like armor as debris whipping past me, and the flames bending away as the air itself forms a barrier.
The Hellhounds' inferno slams into my wind-clad form and skitters harmlessly around it, unable to breach the gale.
My body feels lighter. Faster. Strength flows through me, each breath amplified by the storm swirling at my command.
"That feels nice." I hum, but refuse to forget my situation. I shift my stance, and tilt Sword upward, aligning it perfectly with two of the falling hounds.
Then swing.
WHOOOOOOOSH!!!
A violent gust erupts from the blade, ripping through the wall of flame in a blinding arc. The two Hellhounds in its path are carved apart instantly, first sliced in half, then shredded to numerous pieces before the wind shears a deep gash into the Dungeon ceiling.
The wind spreads outward, slamming into the remaining two Hellhounds and hurling them like broken dolls into the wall, leaving deep gashes across their bodies. Blood sprays everywhere, stones crack, but I'm left clean, all blood deflected by the wall of wind surrounding me.
Silence settles in the dungeon save for the rushing wind.
I stand there, blankly staring at the devastation a single swing caused. The shredded monsters, damaged dungeon, and the air still vibrating along my limbs.
"…I survived when Ais used this against me?"
I wonder incredulously. "How?"
[Answer: Ais Wallenstein's swordsmanship focused the her magic into a single point for maximum penetration and damage, but you deflected the attack and avoiding most of the damage.]
"…Right." I let out a heavy sigh. "I should be more humble and not overestimate myself."
I underestimated the dungeon and almost got burnt to a crisp.
I thought I could survive a strike from a Level 5, but it seems she was holding back.
'Let me just assume I'd struggle against a Level 3, and plan accordingly.' I nod to myself, reevaluating my combat ability.
The earlier confidence I had, a casual arrogance, crumples in on itself a bit.
'The dungeon has killed numerous adventurers stronger than me… I can't underestimate it yet.'
I exhale slowly, lowering Sword while the flames die around me.
The last threads of adrenaline fade as I look over the battlefield.
'I could probably handle the floors below the 18th… but I'll level up before heading down there.' I decide. There's no need to rush there stupidly.
My eyes drift to what's left of the Dungeon Worm… or rather, the slurry that used to be the Dungeon Worm. The poor thing got minced by the aftershock of my attack before I even acknowledged it.
"The body's in pieces, and the magic stone's shattered." I sigh. "What a waste…"
The Hellhounds I hit directly aren't any better. Nothing remains but scattered meat and smoldering chunks.
But the last two…
They're still breathing, albeit within an inch of death.
A faint, rasping whine reaches me.
I look down at the closest Hellhound, its body trembling, ribs rising shakily with each anxious breath. Despite its injuries, it bares its fangs, trying, weakly, to growl.
"I'm glad you're alive." I tell it warmly.
I kneel beside it, and the Hellhound flinches, but doesn't have the strength to pull away or attack. My hand gently settles atop its scorched fur, stroking between its ears.
Up close, it really does resemble a dog. It almost looks cute, if you don't account for the malice in its eyes.
'Monsters can be tamed, right? Could it be a pet?' The idea flashes through my mind, but it's just idle musings and not a serious consideration.
The Hellhound tries to snarl again, but the sound cracks halfway through. It's terrified. Confused. Dying.
While keeping my comforting smile…
"Predator."
The command leaves my mouth without emotion. The Hellhound's eyes widen, and it releases a final, pitiful howl, before it's pulled into Stomach alive.
[Notice: Magic: Flame Breath, acquired.]
A satisfied smile forms immediately.
"Good. The flames were magic." I rise to my feet and dust off my hands. "This trip is quite beneficial."
The last Hellhound doesn't… can't resist. One clean strike ends it, and I absorb it without ceremony.
As silence returns, my eyes drift back to the dungeon wall.
The long slashes carved by Ariel are already healing. Stone knits back together, like a wound closing.
A thought surfaces as I observe the damage.
A stupid, suicidal, Hestia-would-kill-me-for_thinking thought.
'If a Juggernaut's magic resistance is a skill… I could steal it…'
I immediately blacklist the idea before it can seduce me.
"Nope." I shake my head hard. "Not even entertaining that. Hestia would murder me before the Juggernaut does."
With that, I head toward the staircase to the next floor.
(Riven POV – Dungeon, Floor 16)
A deep, guttural roar tears through the corridor.
I pivot just in time to see a Ligerfang—a massive, tiger-like monster far too fast for its size—launching straight at me, claws extended, jaws primed to tear out a chunk of my torso.
It swings downward, claws slicing through the air.
I step into the attack, deflecting its forearm with my palm, redirecting the momentum past me. My body slips beneath it…
and I drive a rapid series of punches into its exposed chest.
THUD—THUD—THUD—THUD—THUD!
Each blow lands with a deep, meaty impact, forcing the monster upward with the last strike. The final punch cracks across its ribs like a gunshot, launching it backward and flipping it midair.
I angle my head towards it, open my mouth, and…
'Flame Breath!'
Scorching red flames blast from my mouth, lighting up the from dungeon as the smell of burnt flesh strikes my nostrils.
It only takes 2 seconds before I stop the magic, and a charred carcass is all that remains of the Ligerfang.
What remains of the beast slams into the wall hard, most of it crumbling to ash.
I roll my shoulders, turning back to my "main" opponents.
Two Minotaurs.
Both of them stare at me with burning, primitive fury, as though my existence is a slight against them.
"Sorry for the interruption." I say with a small shrug. "It was beyond my control."
They do not appreciate the apology.
The first one sucks in a breath, nostrils flaring before unleashing a roar that shakes dust from the cavern ceiling.
'Is this their skill? Too bad I'm immune to its paralyzing effect.' I think, unable to hold back a smirk.
Both tighten their grips around their massive axes—wielding them as though they're weightless—and charge me in perfect tandem.
Their footfalls thundering towards me.
I bend my knees and grin as I charge forward too.
The instant I enter their range, both Minotaurs swing.
One axe tears across the air in a wide horizontal arc, the other descends diagonally with enough force to cleave a boulder. Their muscles bulge like knotted ropes, veins pulsing under coarse fur as each movement radiates raw, murderous strength.
But…
'They're slow.'
I leap over the horizontal strike, planting a light step on the flat of the axe. Using it as a springboard, I launch myself forward, twisting past the diagonal swing. I then drive my knee straight into the Minotaur's jaw.
CRACK.
"RRAAAAGH!"
It reels back, shaking the cavern with its bellow.
I kick off its chest just as its partner's massive fist slams into the space I'd occupied, burying its knuckles in its companion's ribs instead.
"Friendly fire." I muse lightly. "That's so unprofessional."
I twist midair, landing atop the second Minotaur. My hands clamp around its horns, and my boots dig between its shoulder blades.
It roars, a deep, vibrating sound that rattles dust from the ceiling, and blindly reaches back to grab me.
"No wonder they say bull riding is hard." I laugh, bracing myself. Then… crack.
Its scream fractures the air as I wrench one horn free, tearing it clean off. Before it can react, I ram the broken horn into its reaching arm, pinning the limb uselessly at the shoulder.
The entire arm goes limp.
The Minotaur howls in agony…but its remaining hand tightens around its axe, and my eyes widen slightly.
'That's brave.'
The axe sweeps toward me in a desperate, murderous arc. I shift my weight, plant my grip, and drive a heel straight into the Minotaur's elbow.
THUNK.
Its aim snaps sideways.
The axe doesn't hit me.
It hits its own neck.
SCHLUNK.
The creature releases a wet, gargled scream, dropping to its knees as blood fountains down its chest. I push off its back just in time for the first Minotaur—having recovered—to bring its axe down in a brutal execution stroke.
THUD.
The second Minotaur's head rolls to the floor.
"Now it's one on one." I say as its body collapses with a heavy thump.
The remaining Minotaur releases steam from flared nostrils. An animalistic hiss of rage.
In response, I show a toothy grin and exhale a faint puff of magical flame using Flame Breath.
Its pupils constrict.
"What to do…" I murmur aloud. "I need you alive, remember?"
"RRAAARRRGH!"
It unleashes a deafening howl, intended to paralyze adventurers through its skill.
But it washes over me like a lukewarm breeze.
"Exactly why I need you alive." I say, grabbing Sword and settling into a stance. "The last thing I need is killing you by accident."
I dash.
My speed makes the Minotaur grunt in surprise, barely managing to raise its weapon. Its massive axe whistles down toward me—
—and I cleave straight through it.
The adamantite blade slices the iron as if it were wet paper.
"Arms first." I say sweetly.
One downward cut.
One upward cut.
And both arms drop to the floor, twitching.
The Minotaur staggers back, blood spraying in harsh, pulsating bursts. Despite the agony, its instincts scream at it to charge, and it lowers its head, horns angled for a desperate, final gore.
"Next are the legs." I continue calmly.
I sidestep the charge and sweep my blade low in a single, merciless arc—
—and sever the monster at the waist.
Blood gushes across the stone like dark paint. The Minotaur's upper half crashes to the ground, roaring, flailing, and refusing to die quietly.
But in the dungeon, nothing is given mercy.
Nothing is saved.
Nothing is pitied.
No one would help it.
'Maybe Bell might.' I think absently as I absorb the creature into Stomach before death can claim it.
And as expected…
[Notice: Skill: Howl, acquired.]
I wipe a stray fleck of blood from my cheek, exhale, and move toward the stairs.
Another floor down.
And I'm much stronger than when I started.
"Only 1 floor left to go."
***********
A/N: Hello Everyone! How are you? If you've enjoyed the chapter and book thus far, please consider leaving me some comments, reviews, or power stones. It really helps the book out.
I'm be honest, I'm running in way too much exhaustion, so I'll keep the A/N short today (so sleepy😭).
Let me know how the chapter was, what you enjoyed, and so on. There was so much action and fights, and I enjoyed writing them. But am good things must come to an end. Floor 17 is next, and Goliath is there, but should Riven fight it? Yeah. But not now.
I plan to have him level up soon, and that's when the real fun begins.
But anyway, he got so many skills/magic. Let me know if I missed any (cause I'm human), and I'll ensure to at them. Maybe, if there's a monster with the skill or magic... Riven should get it, even if I missed it.
You can also read 10 chapters ahead and support me at [email protected]/AMV_WEAKLY
I suppose, finally, I wish you all a wonderful dAy/night 🥱😴.