[You have slain a Succubus (lvl.316).]
[You have slain a Succubus (lvl.306).]
[As you have reached level 100, you cannot grow further until after class advancement.]
I wanted to kill whoever decided this was a 1st class dungeon.
It was fine if a 2nd class appeared since it was within the realms of feasibility. But why the fuck were there all of a sudden 3rd class succubi?
[You have slain a Succubus (lvl.298).]
It was after the third one that they realized it was a bad idea to attack me.
Their motion implied a change in target to the man on the ground.
“Greedy bastards.”
I stood in front of the man, though I didn’t know how helpful that was in shielding him. He wasn’t scathed in the least—only passed out—probably from the succubi’s hallucinations. It was to be expected from a group of 3rd class succubi.
In the first place, I didn’t know their mode of attack. I remembered something about draining lives, but unless there were rainbows firing across the dungeon walls, I could not consciously deflect a force invisible to the eye. As such, my trait activated on its own.
I stood in a standstill against the two remaining succubi. When I heard choking from behind, I realized they were able to specify their targets from afar.
The man coughed out blood, remaining in his coma.
With no other choice, I drew the sword at the man’s waist even though I didn’t know how to wield one.
**********
Mystletainn (Mythical)
Effects: *Only the contractor can view*
Bound to contractor: Keiser Briggs
**********
[You do not meet the requirements to use this artifact.]
[Mystletainn will attack you.]
I didn’t believe it at first, but seeing the record in front of me, I could only wonder how this man possessed an artifact of such caliber. Only the ten rankers were privy to mythical armaments, and this man wasn’t one of them.
Sparks trailed down my arm from the sword in retaliation, but I didn’t feel a thing. At most, it was an irksome tickle. While I was unharmed, the electric sparks were not weak in consideration that it belonged to a mythical artifact. My trait was preventing its attacks from taking effect.
A brilliant idea came to me as I watched the visible currents dash around my body.
I took a deep breath in, then began relishing in the thought of striking the succubus on the right with the sparks.
Immediately, the figure in my head imposed itself onto reality. The yellow sparks leapt from my body towards the succubus at unimaginable speed.
“EEEKKKK!!”
Damage was done, but it didn’t die. My control over the attack was weak.
But because it was enraged, it ran towards me, lifting its focus off of the man. It tried to bite me with its worm-like teeth, knowing that close quarters fighting was the only method to combat my magic immunity.
And characteristic of a monster that outclassed me, it got within striking range in moments.
I shooed it away by swinging the sword. Naturally, it dodged, but it couldn’t dodge the subsidiary sparks that I spread out in anticipation, knowing my poor swordsmanship was incapable of grazing it.
Even though I was at the peak strength of a classless hunter, it wouldn’t be strange for most 3rd class monsters to tear me apart before I could react. Luckily, the succubus wasn’t a monster specialized in physical combat, hence its retarded movements. Even though I called them retarded movements, it was still too fast for my eyes to track. I was barely holding on with my newly strengthened reaction spee—.
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“—FUCKING!”
I hastily drew an arc behind me.
I was too focused on the first succubus, allowing the second one to flank me. As it darted back, it took with it a nibble of my left shoulder. Had I noticed a second later, that flesh in its mouth would have been my neck, and I’d have died then and there.
It stung immediately unlike the wound I sustained on my wrist against the goblin. Their teeth were shallow, but plentiful, so the damage wasn’t bad compared to the healed wrist. Still, daggers ripping into pure muscle instead of body fat gave my body a quick shock. My alertness reached its peak. With all the adrenaline clogging my vision, I couldn’t falter, for death was a tick away.
One final idea took root with the knowledge that I could shape my attacks through the trait. And it was to disperse the sparks around me like a shockwave.
My mentality was paused in the “do or die,” state. The nausea slammed into me as blood trickled down my raw shoulder. Even though the wound wasn’t as bad as the earlier wrist injury, more blood circulated through the shoulder than the wrist, and the blood loss would paint my downfall in red. I was unable to consider the safety of the collapsed man before acting. Hopefully, he was immune to his sword’s sparks as the rightful owner.
In accordance with my visualization, sparks erupted from my torso, covering every surface of the chamber. The succubi could not escape the sparks and were stunlocked by the electrical currents establishing their bodies as conductors.
But slowly, the succubi began moving. The dispersion of the sparks were sloppy… Too much was wasted on spreading them around…
“ARRRGGGHH!” I shouted to pry myself awake.
If my mind succumbed to the haze, my control over the sparks would disappear.
I needed to maintain utmost focus to coordinate them.
I didn’t want to die here.
Not when my life just started.
With both of them locked in place, I ran all the calculus necessary to focus two streams at them, with sparks sourced straight from the sword. It was the only way. Because if they weren’t dead before I collapsed… Then…
[You have slain a Succubus (lvl.297).]
[You have slain a Succubus (lvl.298).]
“Thank god…” That they were 2nd class, I was going to say.
But instead of a voice passing through my mouth, the mossy floor hammered into my head, cushioned by the relief of victory.
Then, the world collapsed in on me.
~~~~~
I woke up to a husky voice.
“%bqW5u2 in3e3na Wu3qj o4wbri s#bdw…”
What language it was, I didn’t know. It might have been Korean. It might not have. I was too groggy to attempt interpreting it.
The man possessed a full head of black hair, with the defining feature being the streaks of gray-silver running down both sides. His build was lean and not massive like a bodybuilder. He was clearly a foreigner. What more, his face gave off a familiar vibe, like I’d seen him before. I couldn’t pinpoint where I’d seen his face before. Or maybe it was the hair.
My head rested on my duffle bag for support. The man must have propped my head against it while I was passed out
He shoved an opened bottle of water to my face.
“Thank you…”
While he understood my gratitude, he did not understand my language.
My left shoulder was bandaged, and I couldn’t disturb it without an immense shock coursing through my bones, as though the nerves connecting my mind to my left hand were severed. I was functionally missing an arm…
“ywEunsb2 E9nu2b Ubws.” The man helped me up. He towered over me by a full head.
He pointed to himself. His face shined.
“Keiser,” he told me. A two-syllable word that was his name.
I imitated the introduction.
“Cheong-Sin.”
“Jong-Shin?”
I nodded.
His pronunciation was decent for someone who didn’t know a lick of Korean.
Perhaps it was because I was on the brim of death that I bore little scrutiny to this stranger. He didn’t bear any malicious intent as he provided me first-aid.
He tried speaking, then stopped, seeing that the meaning wouldn’t be conveyed. He opted to use his hands, pointing at the gate he came from, and then down the corridor I came from.
I didn’t know what language he spoke, but most people understood English phrases. And having taken an ordinary Korean education, I could still manifest a few English words from my dictionary.
I said, “Korea,” pointing in the direction I came from. Judging by his expression he understood the general meaning that I was from Korea.
He mimicked me by pointing to his gate.
“Canada.”
Based on his manner of speech, he spoke fluent English. So I tested the theory.
“This is… Korean dungeon.”
“This is a Korean dungeon,” he completed after me.
He then frowned, having understood what I meant.
“That 2ku3ge7 03ub#7 uif4n- Canadian dungeon?”
“Can you… Speak slow?”
He enunciated each syllable for me.
“Is this not a Canadian dungeon?”
I confirmed it again. This time, his expression grew worse.
“Shit,” a curse left his mouth. “That can’t be.”
I urged him to follow me down the chamber, to show him the gate I entered from.
My wound no longer throbbed, so I figured it was alright to move without overexerting myself.
No succubi attacked us on the way there, because I killed them all already. All three of them, at least.
When we arrived at the end of the chamber, a dead-end threw into question my previous words. There was no portal. Just a room.
My mastery over English expressed itself then and there.
“What the shit.”