章 90: Chapter 89 - Quest In The Burning Dungeon, Part 7

The party moved across the open plains, a scattered formation of eight adventurers. At the front, Unicus led with a steady stride, followed by Savathon, Arnolt, Vaelthir, Sylva, the thief, and two others. At the back, Van walked silently, carrying an oversized bag stuffed with equipment—a load that could crush five men his size, yet he bore it effortlessly.

Savathon, the towering Dragonkin warrior, glanced over his shoulder at the quiet noble. His sharp eyes lingered on the enormous bag swaying with each of Van's steps, carried as if it weighed nothing.

"Psche," he clicked his tongue in irritation and turned his gaze forward.

"...What is it now?" Vaelthir, the silver-haired elf, asked in a low voice, his focus never wavering from the horizon ahead.

"Hmph. Didn't think you cared so much about me, elf," Savathon replied with a sneer.

"I've started to develop some sentiment, seeing as you've clicked that obnoxious tongue of yours at least twenty times in the past hour," Vaelthir shot back, his tone calm but edged with annoyance. Sylva stifled a giggle, finding amusement in their bickering.

"Watch it, elf," Savathon growled, baring his sharp teeth. His pupils narrowed into slits. "Talk to me like that again, and you'll lose your tongue."

"Is that a challenge, lizard?" Vaelthir replied coolly, his silver eyes flicking toward the Dragonkin, sharp as a drawn blade.

At the front of the group, Unicus let out a quiet sigh, a faint smile playing on his lips. It was a familiar routine. Behind him, Sylva echoed the sentiment in her thoughts.

'Every time... You're better than that, Vaelthir!' she thought with a shake of her head, though a small grin betrayed her own amusement.

"Hmph. That noble trash should've collapsed by now," Savathon muttered, his irritation boiling over as he glanced back at Van.

"He's wearing enchanted armor—his family's, as he boasted back at the guild," Vaelthir replied dryly, his tone laced with disinterest. "Haven't you noticed? He hasn't removed his helmet once, even though we're in a safe area. Likely because the enchantment breaks if any piece is removed. Sets like that are rare but not unheard of."

"Tch, you can buy your rank these days, then," Savathon spat, his tail swishing behind him. "Give me a break..."

"You sound rather envious..." Sylva murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

"What was that, brat!?" Savathon barked, his golden eyes blazing as he spun to face her.

Sylva darted behind Vaelthir with a mischievous grin, sticking out her tongue as she peeked out from behind the elf.

"Grr..." The Dragonkin growled, his frustration palpable, while Vaelthir let out a resigned sigh.

'My Lady,' the elf thought, his face calm but tired, 'must you provoke that lowly lizard like that? You're better than this.'

Van observed the group as they bantered and moved, their voices filling the silence of the open plains. He said nothing, yet a pang of nostalgia and longing stirred in his chest—feelings he chose to ignore as he continued walking in silence.

After several hours, the faint silhouette of a village appeared on the horizon, its rooftops barely visible against the fading light.

"Alright, let's set camp here," Unicus instructed, bringing the group to a halt. One by one, the adventurers began unloading their gear, letting out audible sighs of relief as they dropped their burdens onto the grass—all except Van. He stood still, the overstuffed bag strapped firmly to his back.

"Come on, brat," Arnolt, the dwarf, called out as he approached. "I know you've grown attached to that bag, but it's time to put it down."

Van's gaze lingered on the distant village lights for a moment. Finally, he shrugged off the equipment and set it down.

"A comfy bed calling to you, brat?" Arnolt teased, noting Van's hesitation.

"... Every single day. What about you? Do you enjoy sleeping on rocks, being a dwarf?" Van replied flatly.

"Psche, being a dwarf doesn't mean I can't like soft things," Arnolt shot back without hesitation.

Van stayed silent, caught off guard by the immediate response.

Arnolt paused, as if clarifying for himself, then added, "I don't like soft things. But not because I'm a dwarf, brat." He spat to the side and turned away.

"Huh. Not even a woman's chest?" Van asked, raising an eyebrow beneath his helmet.

Arnolt froze mid-step, his grumbling growing louder as he glanced around, ensuring no one else was near.

"That's everyone's exception, brat," he muttered, his tone begrudging. "And next time you make a comment like that, and a woman hears it, I'll snap yer tongue off." With that, he stormed off, axe in hand, muttering as he started chopping wood.

Van let his gaze drift over the campsite. 'They did say we'd be staying here for the night and heading out in the morning. Everyone seems to be settling in...'

The Dragonkin had already started a fire, gathering two adventurers around him in a loose circle. The warriors were drinking and feasting from the group's supply. Meanwhile, the human thief sat quietly in the corner, alone, his eyes glinting in the firelight.

Van glanced at the thief sitting quietly in the corner, his gaze lingering for just a moment before turning away. He didn't miss the way her eyes flicked toward him when she thought no one was looking.

The two elves huddled together, carefully assembling a neatly structured campfire. Around it, comfortable sleeping bags made of wool and what appeared to be oversized leaves were laid out in tidy rows, their campsite looking almost idyllic.

Nearby, Unicus and Arnolt worked together, building their own campfire with the wood Arnolt had chopped earlier. The dwarf grumbled occasionally, but his axe-handling was efficient, and soon their fire crackled warmly.

Van glanced around the campsite before setting his bag down. '...Guess I'll go hunt some food for myself. We've got plenty of supplies, but I'd rather avoid those sideways glances—like I didn't earn my share. And there's this matter of that girl I've been meaning to deal with since morning.'

Shrugging off the bag and leaving most of his supplies behind, Van adjusted his armor and stepped into the woods. The darkness swallowed him almost instantly, his figure fading into the shadows.

From a distance, the thief's sharp eyes tracked him. '...Finally. He's alone.' With quiet precision, she slipped away from the group, her movements silent as she followed Van into the forest.

After a minute of walking, Van suddenly stopped, his voice cutting through the stillness. "Alright, just come out. I'm trying to hunt for food—I don't have time for—"

He was interrupted by the faintest whistle of air. A knife, sharp and glinting, appeared out of nowhere, aiming straight for the back of his helmet.

Van moved casually, almost bored, reaching behind his head with practiced ease. His hand closed around the knife mid-air, stopping it an inch from his armor.

"You followed me all day just to try killing me out of the blue? Are you stupid?" he asked, his tone flat, almost disinterested.

Silence answered him.

Van's eyes narrowed. '...I can't sense her location. She's at Mika and Rika's level, huh? Annoying.' He let out a sigh, loosening his grip on the knife. 'I should've checked my status window earlier—it's a bad habit I need to fix, since I'm forgetting important things, such as...'

With a flick of his wrist, he opened the translucent status window before him, its soft glow illuminating his expression.

Name: Van Hellix

Age: 17 (42)

Sex: Male

Race: Unknown

Level: 337

STATS:[AVAILABLE STAT POINTS: 447]

VIG (Vigor): 999 (+54,005)

STR (Strength): 999 (+34,156)

RES (Resilience): 999 (+48,072)

DEX (Dexterity): 998

PER (Perception): 660

'...447 stat points, just sitting there waiting to be used. Yeah, it's about time I stopped holding back. No need to save them for a high-stakes moment—it's not like anyone's watching.'

Van focused his thoughts, commanding with quiet resolve, 'Max out Dex and Perception.'

[AVAILABLE STAT POINTS: 447 >>> 107]

DEX (Dexterity): 998 >>> 999 [+1]

PER (Perception): 660 >>> 999 [+339]

[Beast Tracker passive was discarded due to immensely high Perception stat.]

Suddenly, the world shifted.

Van felt it immediately—the forest wasn't just a collection of trees and shadows anymore. It breathed. It pulsed with life. Every leaf, every distant rustle, every heartbeat—it all resonated within him.

'This feeling... this sensation...!' He froze in awe, his widened eyes scanning his surroundings. His mind sharpened, his senses merging seamlessly with the forest. Every detail became vivid, clear. He could see her—perched on a tree branch, hooded, silently watching, calculating her next move.

"This... this feeling!" Van exclaimed aloud, his voice trembling with exhilaration. The thief stiffened, her sharp eyes narrowing as she focused on him. His body tensed, curling slightly as he stared at his own hands, flexing them as if they held the universe.

"What the hell is he doing?" she muttered under her breath, leaning forward to get a closer look.

Van suddenly threw his head back and shouted with unrestrained intensity in English, "THIS IS AMAZING!!! I FEEL INCREDIBLE!!!" He clenched his fists and thrust them into the air, his voice booming. "YES, YES, YES, YES!!!"

The thief jolted back, startled by the sudden outburst. 'H-Has he lost his mind? What is this language?! Is it... some kind of chant? A spell!? Is he going to attack?!'

"I FEEL GREAT! I FEEL GOOD! I. CAN. DO. THI—" Van shouted, his words abruptly cutting off as a flame-covered knife flew toward his temple.

Without missing a beat, his body moved on pure instinct. He bent backward with impossible precision, the knife slicing harmlessly past him, the motion smooth and fluid like water.

'He dodged it...!?' she thought, clenching her teeth as frustration flashed across her face.

Van, still crouched from his dodge, looked up at her with a calm, knowing gaze. 'Ah... I see how it is,' he thought. 'I know exactly who you are now.'

"I won't let you finish that spell!" she snarled, unsheathing her claws with a metallic hiss; fire igniting around them. She lunged at his helmet, aiming to strike, but Van deftly flipped backward, evading her attack with effortless precision.

"Close one. You've improved." Van quipped, his tone light and teasing.

Her frustration deepened as she summoned her clones, twenty identical figures surrounding him in an instant. 'An S Rank, huh?' Van mused, unshaken.

One of the clones charged at him from behind, but Van shifted with surreal speed, delivering a sharp palm strike to its chest, causing it to dissipate into thin air. Another clone followed, and another—each one vanishing into nothingness as Van struck them down with his black-metal-covered hands, moving like a shadow cutting through the wind.

"It took me a while," Van said aloud as he finished off the last clone with a lightning-quick strike. "But I figured it out."

Before she could react, a storm of knives materialized around her, raining down at Van with deadly precision. Each blade shimmered with lethal green poison, but Van dodged them all, weaving through the storm effortlessly. The knives struck the ground silently, their lethality betrayed by their ghostly impact.

'Damn it...! He's going to catch me...!' Panic crept into her thoughts as Van appeared beside her in an instant, faster than her senses could register. She gasped as he pinned her to the ground in one smooth motion. Her hood slipped off with a flick of his hand, revealing her long purple hair and distinctly human face.

She fell flat on her back, Van straddling her, his grip firm on her wrists and legs, rendering her completely immobilized.

"Just... Just..." she muttered, her eyes squeezing shut as a grim memory surfaced—her mother, a knife plunging into her chest, her cries filling the air.

"Do it quick," she pleaded, her voice trembling as she turned her face away, tears threatening to spill.

'Yeah... It's been too long. She wasn't just some random Feline-Halfling. The use of paralysis poison, those claws, and that purple hair... it all adds up,' Van thought, his gaze narrowing.

The Seed of Darkness Passive shifted his perception, altering the way he saw her. In his eyes, her form became cloaked in ethereal fur, her tail curled tightly against her body, pinned between her and the cold grass. Translucent, spectral ears flicked atop her head, as if they were trying to hide but couldn't escape his gaze.

Van leaned down, his movements deliberate, his lips stopping just beside her ear. His voice dropped to a low, teasing whisper.

"How's mommy, purr-bucket?"

Her breath hitched, her eyes snapping open in shock. "Wha...?" she stammered, disbelief washing over her.

Van released her wrists, pulling off his helmet with a faint metallic hiss. His face emerged, calm but playful, as he looked down at her.

"V-..." she murmured, her lips trembling as tears began to flow freely. "It's... really you... But... but... you died!" Her voice cracked as the tears streamed down her cheeks.

"It took me a while to figure it out," Van said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "And I bet you didn't recognize me last night since you never thought we'd meet again. But you're all grown up now." His voice was playful, almost teasing, but his eyes held a hint of warmth.

"Van..." she whispered, her voice breaking completely. "It's really you..." She couldn't hold back anymore and pulled him downward, her arms wrapping tightly around his torso as she buried her face in his cold, metallic chest armor.

Van sighed softly, shifting to the side so he wouldn't crush her. He patted her head gently, her purple cat ears twitching as they popped up from her hair.

"Nice seeing you again, kid," he said, his voice calm and steady as he let her sob into him.