Shun POV:

“...Excuse me?”

I ignored the downward tilt of Dibla’s head that failed to cover the ends of her lips rising. She shifted her gaze to the left and attempted to touch her cheek before forcing her hand back down.

“Isn’t your house private?”

I walked on ahead. There was no need to be so close to the underground arena; the Sentri Guardian’s time would come soon enough.

Young Sentri played a unique game of tag in the far distance. A yellow looping band, made of an unknown material, hung on the left arm, and a black one on the right: they were the ‘IT.’

The opposition: the ‘TAG,’ would first try to slip their hands inside, then attempt to transfer the bands to their own arms within a 3-minute window. Once the timer ran out, the Sentri would switch sides.

The ‘IT’ had the option of running or facing the ‘TAG’ head-on. The former was limited to a certain range, while the latter required accurate parrying to prevent the ‘TAG’ from succeeding. It was a game that set the foundation for the Sentri’s fighting style by combining both slow and fast methods of attack to throw off the opponent’s rhythm.

It was wrong.

“Sentri Style: Quick Palms!”

A hand shot forward in an attempt to slip inside. The male Sentri responded with sharp parries, but its movements caused the weight of the bands to increase. Feints were thrown to raise the guard, forcing more opportunities for the female Sentri to seize control. Its hands slipped inside, and the game entered an even closer range.

It was as I expected.

The bands were separated when they should be joined together. Symbolisation between left and right varied across cultures, but the ‘right hand’ was often linked with power, authority, purity, etc. The ‘left hand’ was viewed as unfavourable, illegitimate, dark, unclean, or even linked to the Devil. This bias led to the persecution of left-handed people in the middle ages; they were accused of practising witchcraft.

Yin and Yang. Left and Right. Up and Down. Male and Female.

Balance.

Somewhere along the line, the Sentri gave up on this balance. They turned to faster ways of growth, and when those methods birthed results, more followed suit. This game was no different. It prioritised individual improvement, and that led to the Sentri’s misinterpretation.

The union of both bands would limit the Sentri’s range of motion. It would force them to think more about positioning, the distribution of power, and the meaning behind their own damn stance. The ‘TAG’ wasn’t supposed to take the bands away.

They were supposed to work with the ‘IT’ to achieve a united balance.

In other words, the bands were looped because the correct approach would expand them into a perfect circle that flowed with the Sentri.

‘They’re all blind.’

An older Sentri stood near a waterfall alone. It looked down at the two bands for some time before practice began.

“Don’t look at him, Gijko. Stasis can’t be played alone.”

“Right.”

The young Sentri shook their heads and continued their game. Dibla’s apprehension stiffened her movements. She lagged a step behind me for some time until she was ready to give me a reply.

“...I can’t just... take a male... to my home...”

I covered my hidden face with my hand and let out a deep sigh. This stupid monster was beginning to annoy me.

“Take. Me. To. Your. Home.”

The darkness ripped away the amber seal. It opened the doorway for bloodlust to leak out, encouraging it to consume my rational thoughts at an incomparable rate to before.

I contemplated.

I contemplated over whether or not to kill Dibla right where she stood until I saw her... blushing?

‘...’

Her thin fingers flexed over the slight opening of her mouth. Long eyelashes fluttered along with the dilation of her pupils. Dibla was several shades lighter than Zinyul, so the blood shooting across the bridge of her nose was also more prominent.

[Title Window:

• Troll Killer (+36)

• Warhog Hunter (+30)

• Overlord Tunnelmen Teacher (+40)

• Dungeon Lover (Max)

• Overlord Imminence Subjugator (+40)

• Orc Murderer (+39)

• Goblin Torturer (+37)

• Destroyer of the Ultimate Fishnin’s Dreams (Max)

• The Ultimate Fishnin’s Protégé (Max)

• Forgotten Dance

• Bloody Killer (+29)

• Speed...

• Precise Communicator (Max)

• Suppressed Body (+40)

• Lanwa Destroyer (+18)

• Deadmin? No mercy (+28)

• Bloodied Deadmin Protector (Max)

...

..

.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

• Outstanding Sentri Teacher (Max)

• Dungeon Maniac (Max)]

I scrolled through all the Titles I acquired but couldn’t find any that increased attraction, and it was obvious why.

The Sentri were conquerors.

‘You can’t be serious.’

I ruffled my hair beneath the hood before walking off. Dibla reached my side. However, this time, she stood closer to me, reducing the gap between us by a noticeable amount.

“Not many Sentri men can be that bold in front of m—“

“Shut your damn mouth. Does it look like I have any interest in you?”

“...”

Silence accompanied me for the next ten minutes. The outskirts of the Sentri’s home expanded; it became a city—a society.

Not all female Sentri were comfortable wearing Ransasu outside of battle. Some wore long skirts made of a similar material to the bands used in Stasis. Beaded cotton strings added to the diamond embroidery, diversifying the style that merged with their Uwagi.

It was similar to the skirts of the intombi: young unmarried women in Zulu Culture.

Male Sentri exposed their upper body less. They wore dyed cloth that was embroidered and stamped with three diamonds converging into one point. These T-Shirts were loose but varied.

It was similar to the adinkra cloth: clothing that came from the Ashanti people.

‘Power and royalty.’

The Sentri never covered their face. To them, that would be seen as a sign of weakness. What conqueror hid what they looked like from others? The Armoured Sentri Knights were no exception; their helmets exposed facial features for all to see.

But there was a problem with this understanding.

Dibla was the mysterious warrior. However, the Sentri that walked past her failed to recognise her identity; they were instead captivated by her looks. This also explained why Dibla stood close to me.

It was for my own protection.

Covering my face was the same as becoming an outcast—a target. In other words, I had made a mistake. If I stayed till the end of the battle in the arena, it was likely I would have been forced to participate in the next match or matches.

The Sentri didn’t ignore me. They had just already decided on my death.

‘Interesting.’

The Sentri King was attempting to reform a core part of the Sentri’s beliefs with this new ideology. Not only had he begun to convert their distaste for cowardice into admiration via the mysterious warrior, but he promoted death in the arena to verify improvement. This masked the creation of the Sentri Gladiators, and if successful, the Sentri’s stance on cannibalism would change.

For example, only in the ‘highest stage’ was it lawful for a Sentri to consume the flesh of their fallen opponent. There was no ‘greater honour’ than becoming a part of another’s ‘growth’ in ‘death.’ Dibla’s words also implied there existed other arenas but so did their own ranks.

This Boss Monster was damn smart.

“...Do you perhaps have a handkerchief?”

I looked up at the snot leaking out of Dibla’s small nose. Tears streamed down her compressed face, adding to the now audible sobs. She had tried her best to keep quiet and not disturb my thought process on the way here.

“...”

I handed her several tissues from the Inventory. Dibla bowed her head before blowing her nose.

[You have obtained a new title: ‘Dungeon Swag King.’]

[Title: Dungeon Swag King

Effect: Female dungeon monsters are more likely to engage in communication.

• Training female dungeon monsters significantly increases their physical attributes.

• The deeper the bond with a female dungeon monster, the greater the increase to their intelligence.

• Wearing certain outfits may impose dominance over certain female dungeon monsters.]

I added this new information to the appropriate categories in my mind. At first glance, the Title seemed strange, but the effects were more than good enough.

Not every monster race had males at the apex of power; that included the Sentri too. It wouldn’t surprise me if there had been several Sentri Queens throughout their history.

The Title also didn’t come with any loyalty benefits. Zinyul’s character aside, he had managed to ignore the direct order of Overlord Tunnelmen Teacher. It was strange then, and strange no—

‘!’

I froze.

A sudden realisation grew the anger swirling inside of me. If... If the thought that just crossed my mind was correct, then... I had made a grave oversight.

I peered down at the open Title Window. The clouds blocking my vision parted, allowing me to stop seeing benefits and understand why they were so easy to obtain. I failed to realise the significance of Byeol’s surprise. I failed to recognise the importance of her warning.

‘That... giggling idiot is using me.’

The veins on the side of my head popped. Ki didn’t flare out, nor did it explode. It didn’t detonate or even erupt. What it did do was darken the area around me. What it did do was fracture the pavement and silence the air.

Then the trigger was pulled.

A roaring blast poured out of my body in an instant. Dibla grabbed my arm, taking me to a garden behind a well-fortified wall before the explosion reached its pinnacle.

“DAMN IT!!”

I smacked her hand away and gripped the sides of my head. There was no denying it now. I had relied on the damn system again, just like before.

“TALKY!!”

Desperate attempts failed to restore the cut connection between us. I couldn’t go back down either. Even if the party didn’t prioritise clearing this Floor, it would raise too many suspicions. I still needed them for future Arcane Dungeons.

“Are... you okay?”

The slight concern on Dibla’s face meant nothing to me. I took a deep breath and rationalised my thoughts. There was nothing I could do about that now.

“You’re the last one, Dibla.”

She rested her hand against the back of her neck. Dibla’s round lips pursed together in an effort to stop the blood swarming over her cheeks.

“...I’m sorry. You’re a human, and I’m a Sentri. It’s not right or lawfu—“

“Dibla, do you want to die?”

The white of my eyes glowed beneath the thick shadow. This stupid monster was about to be erased from existence if she kept this annoying act up.

“Sorry. I think I grew up too sheltered. Do you perhaps like me or som—“

A kunai rested against her exposed neck. It was paired with a deep bloodlust that had a history of its own.

“You are testing the very small amount of patience I have left, Dibla.”

Her head rose, and her eyebrows curved to the ground. Dibla smacked my hand back before parting her lips.

“What do you want then? I approached you because it was the only seat available with a decent view. I only followed because the aura around you demanded respect, and you seemed cute.

Just to make it perfectly clear, we monsters won’t ever be in that kind of relationship with humans. Not all of us despise you, but your kind is not like ours. So don’t cross a bridge that should never be crossed. You’ll be punished severely if you do.”

Dibla’s unsenseable Ki wrapped around her. She peered down at me; there was no innocence in her gaze, only a stern warning of what would happen if a human tried to go against nature.

“I’m going to train you and then kill you.”

“You’re not normal, and I’m not that interested in you now that I know you’re really human.”

I sat down on the well-kept grass. My arm rested over my pulled-in knee, prompting Dibla’s eyes to narrow.

“Show me everything you can do. We have 5 minutes.”

She placed a hand on her smooth forehead before letting out a sigh. A sigh that contained not just frustration, but a hint of curiosity too. That was evident by her gaze sweeping over me several times, concentrating on the words coming out of my mouth and how reliable they were.

“I don’t want to be trained by a human. When this dungeon breaks, I’ll test myself there.”

Dibla wouldn’t change her mind. A part of the reason why she went along with this for so long was because she... was lonely.

“Fine. Tell me the name of the bands used in Stasis.”

Dibla looked to the side. Her foot tapped against the ground for several seconds till her internal debate came to an end.

“Senfex.”

I cocked my head to the side, and Dibla struggled to stop the slight dominance ‘Dungeon Swag King’ imposed on her.

“I-It’s a material only Sentri can use and is made from the scales of the deceased using several techniques: Sentramould, Sentravision and Sentramend.”

I searched through the backlog of several dictionaries stored away in my mind. Information was sorted, then compiled until I arrived at a plausible explanation to the name of the material: Senfex.

Sen.

The proto-indo-european root meaning of the word was ‘old.’ It was a prefix seen in the English word: senior, the Latin word: senilis, and the Lithuanian word: senas.

Fex.

It was a Latin suffix that denoted a maker or producer. For example, signum meant ‘to mark’ or ‘to sign,’ but when paired with ‘fex,’ the word became signifex: an image-maker or a carver.

Applying that same understanding to Senfex, the most likely meaning was ‘Wise-maker.’ The building blocks of a Sentri’s growth also represented knowledge. If they never learned, how could they improve?

Wisdom was gained with time and experience.

In other words, those who knew how to utilise Sentramould, Sentravision and Sentramend also knew of the deviation that occurred.

They were the true Sentri Teachers.

[You have acquired information on a material unique to the Sentri.]

[Your critical thinking has led to a deep understanding of Sentri Culture. You have unravelled the mysteries of the species!]

[All equipment in the Genuine Sentri Set can now be enhanced to the True Sentri Set once additional knowledge on Senfex has been obtained.]

[You have gained a new title: ‘Acknowledgement of the Mwalimu.’]