As we kept running, the distant screeches and steps of the rats echoed loudly behind us.

Then, as if things weren’t bad enough, a group of Sewer Crawlers scuttled into view ahead.

There were more of them than I’d ever encountered at once in this area. It was clear they’d been drawn by the noise of the chaos behind us.

The sound must’ve been like a dinner bell for these nasty things.

I shifting myself slightly as I prepared to command my slimes to engage them.

But before I could do anything, Fennel bolted forward, his movements were so swift and seamless.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this!” he called back over his shoulder, his voice confident but not cocky.

He closed the gap between himself and the Crawlers in seconds.

Claws started extending from his fingers, glowing a faint white light, and with it he slashed through the first Crawler in one swift motion, sending it flying in two pieces.

He spun on his heel, ducking low as another lunged at him, then countered with a horizontal slash that tore it apart.

One of the Crawlers tried to flank him, but with a flick of his tail he sent it flying into the wall.

I watched in awe as he performed a seamless acrobatic flip over another Crawler that lunged for his legs, landing with catlike grace before whipping his tail around again to knock a third Crawler off balance.

He followed up with a quick slash, finishing it off before it could recover.

His movements were fluid, almost like a dance, and his tail worked in perfect harmony with the rest of his body.

He moved so effortlessly that it was hard to believe he was in the middle of a frantic fight.

By the time he finished, the tunnel was littered with Sewer Crawlers, their crystalized hearts faintly glowing in the murky water.

He flicked his claws, sending droplets of blood flying, and turned back to us with a triumphant grin.

“That’s how it’s done,” he said, his thick brows lifting slightly as his lion-like ears twitched.

I couldn’t hide my surprise.

Had he been an enemy, the outcome would’ve been terrifying.

Fennel could’ve closed the gap between us in an instant, dodging every arrow my slimes could fire with ease.

His speed and precision would’ve torn through them like paper, rendering their shapeshifting recovery utterly useless.

And without them, I’d be nothing more than a sitting duck—completely vulnerable and powerless.

The realization hit hard. Sure, I was stronger than before—miles ahead of where I’d been when I first entered this dungeon—but strength had a way of making you overconfident.

Watching Fennel move so effortlessly, it became painfully clear that I still had a long way to go.

Even now, I was in an environment in which numerous creatures and people would see me as nothing more than an ant.

I had a lot of weaknesses. Agility and speed? That was one of them, glaringly obvious.

If I ever had to face someone like Fennel as an enemy, I wouldn’t stand a chance.

I’d grown stronger, sure, but it was a harsh reminder that modesty was just as important as power.

"You’re... surprisingly strong. Is that one of your skills?" I asked, still reeling from the shock, though I tried to mask it. My curiosity outweighed my shock.

Fennel turned back to me with a grin that was way too relaxed for someone who’d just shredded half a dozen monsters.

“Looks awesome, right?” he said, puffing out his chest and giving his claws a little flex as they shimmered faintly before dissipating.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Yeah, it’s one of my skills. Well, since you’ve already seen it in action, I guess there’s no harm in telling you about it. You seem like a chill guy, so I don’t really mind.”

I blinked. Seriously? This guy’s way too trusting. Normally, the first rule of survival in Dungeon End was to keep your skills to yourself or very limited people.

Revealing them to others could get you exploited or worse. But here he was, casually spilling the details like it was no big deal.

Still, I wasn’t about to stop him. If he wanted to hand over valuable information, I wasn’t going to argue.

I had no intention of breaking his trust or exploiting him, but knowing his capabilities might come in handy if things got dicey later. And honestly, his openness was kind of refreshing, in a weird way.

“So, it’s called [Predator’s Claw],” he said with a tone full of pride. “Pretty simple, really. It lets me create claws out of mana. The power of the claws scales with my physical stats, and the length depends on my mental stats.”

He extended his claws again to demonstrate, the faint white glow illuminating the sewer. “See? Not too complicated, but super effective in a fight.” He slashed the air in front of him, and the claws shimmered as they cut through nothing but left faint trails behind.

https://i.imgur.com/NgQRkwV.png [https://i.imgur.com/NgQRkwV.png]

[Predator’s Claw - Lv.1]

[Allows the user to create claws formed from pure mana. The claws’ power scales with the user’s physical stats, while their length is determined by mental stats. This versatile ability can adapts to the user’s strengths.]

* Mana Claws: Creates energy-based claws for combat.

* Physical Stats: Increase the claws’ damage and durability.

* Mental Stats: Determine the claws’ length and reach.

[Usage: Effective for slashing, grappling, or cutting through defenses.]

Hearing about his ability, it was clear that it was undeniably effective, especially when paired with his natural agility and reflexes.

The synergy between his quick movements and the skill’s versatility made him quite the deadly fighter.

It wasn’t just a flashy skill—it was practical, precise, and powerful.

Seems like he got blessed with quite the skill, I thought to myself.

But as impressive as Predator’s Claw was, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t the whole story.

No one gets to this level of proficiency with just one skill, no matter how good it is. His agility, his coordination, the way his movements flowed seamlessly from one strike to the next—it all pointed to something more. He had to have other abilities backing him up, probably passive skills that complemented Predator’s Claw perfectly.

The fact that his skill didn’t have a prefix behind its name caught my attention, too. That meant it was likely still in its initial level. Even so, its raw effectiveness made it clear just how powerful it already was.

And if Predator’s Claw was only at level 1, what about his other abilities? There was no guarantee those were at the same level.

He could easily have more advanced passives or even higher-level actives in his arsenal, quietly enhancing his combat abilities without showing them outright.

“Not bad,” I said, keeping my tone neutral. “It fits your combat style perfectly.”

“Right?” he replied, beaming with pride.

“What way should we head to… uh…” Fennel hesitated, his gaze flickering between me and the bag slung over my shoulder.

He clearly didn’t know our names but was trying to get to know us anyway.

“I’m Leon,” I said, even thought it wasn't really the time to get introductions done, being chased by crawlers and all.

His eyes shifted to Lila, who was peeking out cautiously from the top of my bag. She looked a little unsure, but after a moment, she mustered the courage to speak up.

“Lila,” she said softly, giving a small wave with her tiny hand.

Fennel laughed, his grin widening into something genuinely warm. “Got it—Leon and Lila.” He tilted his head slightly, his lion-like ears twitching. “And what about the little buddies hanging around you?”

I raised an eyebrow, following his gaze. He was clearly referring to my slimes, the ones still latched onto me. For a second, I hesitated, unsure how much I wanted to share.

“Don’t worry about them,” I said eventually. “They’re friendly.”

Fennel tilted his head again, his thick brows knitting slightly as his tail flicked behind him. “Friendly, huh?” He paused, studying them for a moment before grinning again. “They do look friendly… but my instincts tell me they can also be pretty nasty if angered.”

I smirked. “Let’s just say they’ve got my back.”

His grin widened further, and he let out a low chuckle. “Good to know. Guess I’ll stay on their good side, then.” His tone was light, almost teasing, but there was an undercurrent of seriousness to his words. Beastkin like him probably had a sharp sense for danger, and I wasn’t about to argue with his instincts.

Lila chimed in to answer Fennel’s earlier question. “Just keep running straight ahead,” she said. “The path to the next floor is still quite far from here, but it’s straightforward. No turns, no forks—just keep moving.”

“Really?” Fennel asked. “Well, I don’t mind that. I’ve got plenty of stamina to spare.” He glanced over at me, his eyes flicking up and down as if assessing my physical condition. “But you, Leon… You don’t really seem like the ‘fit’ type. Will you be able to hold up?”

I shot him a look, my pride stinging a little. “Not much of a choice, do I?” I replied, keeping my tone as neutral as possible.

“Well,” he said, still grinning, “if worse comes to worst, I can always carry you on my back. You don’t seem heavy enough to be much of a burden.”

I couldn’t help but smile at his sassy comment, even if it was at my expense. “I’ll count on you then,” I said, playing along.

His grin widened, his tail swishing behind him in amusement.

Despite everything, his lightheartedness was infectious. It reminded me of someone—Arlo. That same mix of confidence, humor, and reliability that could make even the worst situations feel a little less dire.

I think I’m starting to like this guy, I thought.