Ackster hadn’t even noticed when, but the absolute, impenetrable darkness had faded. He could see that the color of the rocky ground around him was an earthier brown than the yellowly grey stone at the depths of the ant nest. And he could do it without a nearby source of light, such as the torch from the Alchemaze or the stones in the ant queen’s ceiling.

Ackster’s gaze flashed to the front or upward since it was in the same direction.

It was faint, almost too faint for him to see it. But far, far ahead, a tiny dot of light, thinner than a needlepoint, let in enough light in the antevator for Ackster to see his surroundings. Ackster’s face lit up with a smile.

He was finally escaping the lonely and abyssal darkness of the ant nest. There was no need to sulk about, stumble on ant legs and stones, or walk headfirst right into the rock-solid walls. He could use his eyes to see things other than darkness. He would finally know whether his lids were open or closed. And, most importantly, he could finally do something productive that wasn’t walking around aimlessly trying to find the necessary resolve to continue living and trying to stop The Hero.

Ackster couldn’t be bothered to waste time. He wanted to escape the tendrils of darkness, reaching for his legs, hoping to pull him back down as quickly as possible. He had to get out. Now. His mind couldn’t handle another moment in the darkness.

Ackster’s legs burst out with an unprecedented speed as he activated Limit Breaker and stomped against the walls so hard his feet left behind deep prints.

In his desperation to get out, Ackster forgot about two things.

There was no immediate need for Limit Breaker, and if there happened to be a monster or something beyond the exit, he would have just blown his final resort.

And, his eyes, although mostly useless, had adapted to the weeks of darkness. They had gotten used to no light and to trying to see through the pitch-black wall of darkness that veiled Ackster’s sight at every waking moment in the ant nest.

Even at the faintest light, Ackster had been able to clearly discern the details of the earthen walls of the elevator shaft. That had been several long minutes before he even got close to the exit.

The closer to the exit Ackster got, the brighter the light was.

‘Shit.’

Ackster haphazardly realized it when it was already too late.

He had already used Limit Breaker to build his speed and momentum. Turning it off would kill his speed, and the backlash would hit him, which would send him plummeting back down the hole.

Ackster’s only option was to continue charging full steam ahead and hope his eyes would recover from the torrent of light that would pour straight into his brain. He squinted at first, but that wasn’t enough, and he was forced to close them completely. Fortunately, he had been running and moving in darkness thicker than ink, so it didn’t come as a challenge.

However, the light piercing through his squeezed-shut eyelids was a little disorienting, and he had to put his hand over his eyes. But one hand wasn’t enough, and the light found its way through his fingers and the creases of his palm to somehow sting his eyes with the fervor of a vengeful lover upset at not having seen their beloved, who disappeared for several weeks without warning.

Ackster wanted to stop and stick his head in the ground to escape the light. But he also never wanted to return to the darkness, so he stuck it out and gritted his teeth. At worst, he would go blind. It could be worse.

He kept running up the tunnel without knowing how much he had left or what awaited him at the surface. It was the only thing he could do.

But he could feel that the ground was growing softer, drier, and warmer. So, Ackster knew he was getting close.

And then, without warning, his foot didn’t have anything to claw into and propel him further.

Ackster shot out of the tunnel with enough force to send him flying several meters into the air. He instantly realized what happened and forced his eyes open despite the sharp light bathing his surroundings in impenetrable whiteness.

After all, if he went straight up, he would go straight back down, which meant into the ant nest again. Ackster had to see what lay below him if he wanted to avoid that fate.

His eyes tried to adjust, but they weren’t quick enough.

Ackster fell back down to the ground, close to despair. He didn’t know what it looked like from an outside perspective, but it felt like he had spent an eternity falling, which could only mean that he had reentered the tunnel.

“Ouch.”

Thankfully, the painful reality of crashing face-first into the ground dispelled Ackster’s worries, at least partly.

His upper body had landed on solid ground while his legs dangled over the abyss.

“Huff.”

Ackster dug his fingers into the ground and heaved himself up, completely escaping the ant nest. He crawled away a couple of steps before turning over onto his back. He laid his arm over his eyes to shield them from the sunlight while he recovered from the sprint. His breathing was labored both from the physical exertion and from the mental distress he had endured and escaped.

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

Relief washed over Ackster and helped cool his burning legs.

Ackster rarely felt the desire for sleep stronger than his hunger ever since he got Monster Muncher. But right now, all he wanted was a nice, long sleep that could help him forget reality and everything he had suffered in the ant nest.

Just passing out would be such a comfort. Acmkster wouldn’t have to worry about anything if he was asleep, and he could deal with what he needed to deal with tomorrow or whenever he woke up.

However, it seemed like fate had other plans in store for Ackster as a shadow fell over him and helped shield his eyes.

“You’re a real mess, huh?”

Ackster’s eyes flashed wide open at the startling realization that there was someone right above his head, but they closed just as quickly due to the avalanche of light pouring in. A wave of frustration surged through Ackster’s mind long enough for him to realize that he was insane for letting that happen when there was a possible threat.

But he slowly realized that the voice and the presence were familiar.

“Wilma?”

“You sound disappointed. What? Am I not who you expected?”

Ackster cleared his throat a little. It was the first time he spoke to another person—ants included—in way too long.

“No. My throat’s just dry. Anyway, fancy meeting you here. Has the city moved since I went underground?”

“Moved, huh?”

Wilma spoke while rubbing her chin thoughtfully.

“I guess that’s one way to put it. But no, that’s not why I’m here. I’m here for you.”

“You are? Wait, how did you even know where I was? Well, I guess your tail knew my approximate location, but how did you know I was going to pop up here?”

“I didn’t.”

Ackster’s eyes finally adjusted enough for him to squint and see Wilma standing above him. She was dressed in clothes that seemed more like what an adventurer would wear and not a receptionist.

‘Huh? Fieldwork?’

He was pretty sure he had seen several adventurers wearing similar light leather armor. But Ackster already knew Wilma was pretty strong, so he wasn’t surprised.

“I didn’t need to.”

Ackster’s brow furrowed as he looked at Wilma.

“What do you mean?”

Wilma sighed slightly with a troubled expression.

“I kind of suspected it, but you don’t know what you’re doing, do you, Dean?”

“...”

She was right, but he didn’t like it, so Ackster remained silent.

“Well, you’ll understand in the future if you don’t die first. But in short, you’re exuding so much life force I could see you as soon as you got close enough to the surface. You’re basically like a beacon of energy for anyone with good enough senses.”

“Huh? Why?”

Ackster understood what Wilma meant, but he couldn’t understand why. He hadn’t done or eaten anything special. He had just trained as usual.

“You tell me. You’re the one figuratively shining like the sun.”

“Wait….”

Ackster gradually realized what it was. It was a little concerning, but it was also kind of cool.

‘It has to be Strong Body.’

The only answer Ackster could think of was his innate skill.

When he had injured and harmed himself in various ways to train and try to acquire a self-regeneration skill, he also put stress on his vitality and life force. Or something along those lines.

Or maybe, in order to increase the rate at which Ackster healed, Strong Body had increased the source of his healing, which was his vitality. So Strong Body, through some mysterious means, boosted the very core of Ackster’s life with seemingly reckless abandon since he didn’t stop getting injured.

And since he had been injured a lot and also made a lot of progress with Nold’s secret technique, Strong Body had pumped up his life force quite a bit.

“It’s nothing to be that happy about, you know? Every adventurer worth their salt has a strong life force.”

“Oh…”

Wilma read Ackster’s expression as he pieced together the reason behind his spike in life force.

“One of the many differences between them and you is that they know how to stop it from leaking like a dragon-chewed boot.”

“Ah…”

Wilma’s words dampened Ackster’s spirit enough to make him realize that it was probably his budding life force that had attracted the ant queen and made her want to eat him. So, he could understand why it wasn’t anything to be overly happy about, even if it were a sign of being strong. As Wilma said, his abundant life force was a beacon, a beacon for trouble.

“I understand. It’s not that difficult learning how to suppress it, right?”

Wilma shrugged.

“Depends. Is it difficult to learn how to run?”

“No…?”

“Are you sure? If you were given all the strength you have now without knowing how to run before, would it be easy? Ah! Don’t answer, we don’t have time for this. Since you obviously need help, and it’s clearly worth it from an investment standpoint, I’m going to see if I can get you some. But it’s going to take a while. So, you should do what you need to do and stay out of trouble, any more trouble, I should say.”

Words poured out of Wilma’s mouth almost too quickly for Ackster to respond. But as he realized something felt ominous about her last ones and was about to ask, Wilma grabbed hold of his arm and yanked him up so he was standing. She began dragging him forward.

“Um, are you sure?”

Ackster spoke with hesitation after processing all that Wilma had said. He decided to take it one thing at a time. And the first point she made was that she was going to get him help. Ackster could also tell that she was referring to learning how to control his life force and generally improving as an adventurer or a combatant who could enter the Guild’s special forces.

“Always.”

“...”

“About what, though?”

“Helping me learn how to control my life force.”

“Oh, that? Yeah. If you can take down an entire ant colony ruled by a mutated queen with an estimated rank two above yours and then maintain your sanity after staying in the darkness for two months or so, you’ve got the groundwork to be well and truly sponsored. It’s going to take a little time to convince the higher-ups and get things set up. But if you ask me, getting you professional help and some proper training is a done deal. You’ve gotten this far on your own in a record timeframe. And you’ve made astounding progress with that crazy-ass technique in addition to acquiring what seems like a self-regeneration skill. If the Guild doesn’t agree to it, I’ll personally ask Grannie—Ah, I’m not supposed to mention her. Anyway, I’m as sure as a shower curtain, so you can go ahead and rest easy.”

“...Two months…?”

Ackster’s mouth hung open as he stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes glazed over in disbelief.