The instant I saw the endless tide of Sewer Crawlers pouring down the tunnel, my brain screamed one word louder than anything else: Run!
“Go! Go! Go!” I shouted, clutching Lila and placing her inside my bag as I turned on my heel and bolted down the left passage.
My slimes, still latched onto me, jiggled and bounced wildly with every step.
The swarm’s screeches echoed behind me. Their blood-curdling symphony of plague-reddened rats grew louder by the second.
My boots splashed through the filthy water, every step sending the murky droplets flying.
“Lila!” I panted, glancing down at her. “Do you see a way out?!”
She closed her eyes, concentrating for a brief moment.
“Leon! There’s no safe place left on this floor. None.”
“What?! Then what do we do?!”
“If we want to get out of this situation, there are only two paths to choose from: either leave the dungeon entirely… or head to the next floor.”
Leaving the dungeon was out of the question. I had to make progress this time around no matter what.
My whole plan had been to hit level 6 before moving forward. But now it looked like I’d have to push that plan up a bit.
“Alright. Then we’re heading to the next floor.”
Just as I spoke, the beastman boy, still far ahead of us, seemed to have heard us even through all this noise.
He started slowing down, his pace adjusting to match ours. As we got closer, I could finally get a proper look at him.
His ears, shaped like a lion’s, twitched slightly, perked up and alert as he glanced back at us.
They were covered in the same golden-brown fur as his tail, which swayed behind him with a natural, fluid motion, adding to his feline appearance.
His young face, framed by thick, expressive eyebrows of the same golden-brown hue, radiated a sense of friendliness that felt oddly disarming, despite the chaos he’d dropped us into.
Yet, there was also this apologetic look in his eyes, one that made him seem like a kid who’d just made a careless mistake and was trying to soften the blame pointed his way.
It was the kind of look that said, Yeah, I messed up—but I swear I didn’t mean to.
He turned to us fully as he ran, offering a sheepish smile that could only be described as an idiot’s grin. “Uh… sorry about this!” he said, his voice tinged with genuine regret. “Didn’t mean to get anyone else caught up in this mess.”
I narrowed my eyes, still running. “Really? Because it looks like you’re the reason we’ve got a Rat Flood on our tails!”
He winced, his smile faltering. “Yeah… yeah, fair point. But, uh… I swear I didn’t do it on purpose!” He laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head mid-stride. “I was just trying to get out of here alive. Didn’t think anyone else would be nearby.”
“Great. That makes me feel so much better,” I said dryly, dodging a loose rock as we ran.
He kept pace with us, his tail flicking behind him. “I heard what you said back there,” he added, his ears flicking toward me.
“You heard that?” I asked, surprised. It did make sense, though.
Beastkin were well-known for their heightened senses, which varied depending on their specific species. His kind were probably gifted with a great sense of hearing.
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I’d heard stories about beastkin with razor-sharp senses of smell, touch, or sight, so this wasn’t exactly news, but it was still impressive.
“Yeah,” he replied, his grin returning, though it still held that apologetic edge. "Look, I already dragged you into this mess. The least I can do is help you get out of it. Let me tag along.”
I didn’t even hesitate. “No.”
He blinked, caught off guard by my blunt response. “What? Why not?”
“Because I don’t know you,” I said flatly, not bothering to sugarcoat it. “And strangers? Strangers are untrustworthy. For all I know, you could be using this whole situation to lead me into an even bigger trap.”
His eyes widened for a moment before narrowing in defiance. He slowed for just a second, then puffed out his chest and slammed a fist against it with vigor.
“I’m no stranger worth doubting!” he declared, his voice booming with pride. “I am Fennel of the Mythroar Tribe!”
Mythroar?!
I knew who they were. The Mythroar Tribe—one of the most respected and well-known beastkin clans out there.
They were like lions in every sense of the word—majestic, proud, and guided by a deep sense of justice. The kind of people whose name carried weight wherever it was mentioned. People respected them not just for their strength or fairness, but for their unwavering honor and relentless pride. It wasn’t just a personality trait—it was a way of life, woven into every part of who they were.
And that pride wasn’t just symbolic. The Mythroars had an inherited ability that defined their entire existence: Prideful Paragon.
I glanced at the boy running beside me, his golden tail swishing behind him. Of course—that’s what he meant earlier. Prideful Paragon.
It was the Mythroars’ birthright, an ability passed down through their bloodline, just like Lila’s Pathfinder skill as a gnome. For the Mythroars, it was both a blessing and a burden.
Prideful Paragon made them immune to fear and mind-altering effects—no illusions, no manipulation, no tricks could mess with their heads. That kind of immunity was insanely useful, especially on the tougher floors, where enemies loved messing with your mind.
But it came at a cost.
The ability only worked as long as the user stayed true to their values—honor, integrity, pride. If a Mythroar lied, betrayed someone, or did anything they considered “unworthy,” the ability would shatter and turn against them, inflicting mental pain that didn’t stop until they made things right—or, in extreme cases, until they lost their minds completely.
https://i.imgur.com/g0lkIz2.png [https://i.imgur.com/g0lkIz2.png]
[Prideful Paragon - Inheritance]
[Prideful Paragon grants the user immunity to fear and mind-altering effects as long as they maintain their integrity and adhere to the prideful code of their lineage. This innate ability strengthens the user's resolve, ensuring their mind cannot be swayed, manipulated, or influenced by external forces.]
[This inheritance is unique to the Mythroar Tribe, reflecting their unwavering sense of justice and honor. The immunity is tied to their personal conduct; any action deemed unworthy, such as breaking an oath, intentional deceit, or betrayal, will trigger a reversal effect.]
[When integrity is compromised, the user suffers mental damage over time until restitution is made or the dishonor is absolved. Prolonged failure to amend these actions can result in the user descending into madness.]
[The ability’s strength makes it invaluable in encounters with entities that rely on psychological manipulation, illusions, or fear-based attacks.]
[Usage: Passively enhances mental resilience and fortifies the user's resolve in line with their prideful nature.]
It wasn’t just a double-edged sword; it was a sword hanging over their heads by a thread.
I glanced at Fennel—the kid had a grin so friendly it almost made you forget he’d dragged you into a mess. If he was a Mythroar, and if he had Prideful Paragon, then everything he said was binding. He couldn’t betray me, unless he wanted to get hurt himself.
But that didn’t mean I wasn’t skeptical.
“You’re saying you’ll help me,” I said, my tone sharper than I intended. “But you’re the reason I’m in this mess to begin with.”
He winced, rubbing the back of his head with an awkward laugh. “Yeah… that’s fair. I messed up, big time. But I’m not the kind of guy who drags someone into trouble and then runs off. I’ll see this through. You have my word.”
I folded my arms, my gaze still wary. “Your word. That’s a big deal for you Mythroar types, right?”
“Absolutely,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. His golden-brown ears twitched slightly, and his grin softened into something sincere. “When I say I’ll help, I mean it.”
I studied him for a long moment, trying to gauge whether he was being honest or just saying what I wanted to hear.
But his eyes held steady, unwavering, like someone who knew exactly what his words meant.
Finally, I sighed. “Alright. But if you screw this up any further, I’m leaving you behind. Got it?”
His grin returned, bright and full of relief. “Got it,” he said, his tail flicking behind him. “You’ve got my word as a Mythroar.”
And with Prideful Paragon in play, I knew that was one promise he couldn’t afford to break.