1-Second Invincible yer In The Game 42


    42. The Third Test (2)


    “No, no way? A dungeon? This is all just stage props, right? Wow, the academy is really something.”


    Limberton trembled, lost in denial of reality.


    To snap such a fool back to his senses, I shook out a box of items ced on the floor.


    The contents were weapons like swords and shields, arrows, and dried rations for three days.


    “Limberton, this sword is real. It’s not a y. If monsters appear, you’ll have to defend yourself with this.”


    After donning light armor, I picked up arge shield and handed it to a man wrapped in a full-body robe.


    He nodded again, epting the shield.


    Next, I picked up a bow and a quiver of arrows and handed them to Limberton, who frowned.


    “Eh? What’s with the uncool arrows? I’m supposed to be a knight, give me a sword instead.”


    His reaction wasn’t surprising.


    In this world, knights do not favor arrows and are often looked down upon as hunters if they carry them.


    They’re easily blocked by aura, and some even slice or deflect them before they can touch.


    Nevertheless, the path Limberton must walk was that of an archer alone.


    [Limberton Bell Delsi]


    ●Blessing


    ◆Hermit of the Wind’s Blessing◆


    η Do not ask about me. I am but a nobody.


    One receives an uracy correction by the tailwind.


    ●Traits


    ◇Sharpshooter◇


    ◇Eagle Eye◇


    The blessing and traits are deliberately tailored for an archer—how could one possiblypete?


    His fate has already been decided.


    “How foolish. In a life-or-death matter, one should use what they’re ustomed to.”


    “…What, what? How do you know I shoot arrows?”


    “Cut the chatter and listen.”


    It was fortunate to have picked the mostfortable number 7.


    These guys would perform above averagepared to ordinary people, easily passing the third trial in first ce.


    “But why is that big guy only holding a shield? Doesn’t he need a weapon too?”


    “Well…”


    As I offered a sword, the robed figure shook their head.


    “He says he’s fine.”


    I strapped a longsword to my waist.


    I handed Limberton three backpacks filled with necessary supplies.


    “Can you carry all of this?”


    “This is surprisingly heavy. You want me to carry all this alone?”


    “If that’s the case, hand one over to that man.”


    “And you?”


    “I’ll light the way at the front. Mobility is crucial, so I must keep as light as possible. That man will take the rear. You’ll assist with the front and back from the center, so there’s no need for you to move quickly.”


    Limberton nodded with a slightly puzzled expression.


    I picked up a torch hanging on the wall and stepped into the dark path ahead.


    As a thin, translucent thread reflected off my shin, I stopped.


    Ping!


    “Hold on, stop.”


    Touch it, and spears would pour out from both walls—a trap.


    “Rimbutton. You saw it too, didn’t you?”


    “Huh? Oh. Yes, I saw it.”


    “This is a trap. Since you have good eyesight, report anything even slightly suspicious. Now, everyone, don’t touch anything and pass by carefully.”


    But for some reason, I squinted uneasily.


    Was there originally a trap made of threads right from the entrance?


    It was the moment I thought nothing of it and moved forward.


    Rimbutton, who was behind, suddenly shouted.


    “Wait! There’s a woman copsed over there!”


    …Quite the guy.


    Only the shoulder part of the fallen one’s armor was illuminated, yet he identified the gender correctly.


    It must have been the effect of the ‘Eagle Eye’ trait.


    But a woman?


    “Rimber…”


    I was about to speak about the woman’s identity that came to mind, but then I closed my mouth.


    It seemed better to instill a proper sense of caution this time.


    Rimbutton took his eyes off me and began to approach cautiously.


    I followed quietly, sticking close behind him.


    The woman was unconscious, bleeding from her head.


    “Excuse me, miss. Are you alright?”


    Just as Rimbutton reached out his hand, the woman’s mouth tore crosswise, oozing sticky saliva.


    Ssssh.


    I grabbed Rimbutton by the nape and yanked him back.


    Thump!


    He fell to the ground, and I pointed at the monster with a cross-shaped torn mouth full of fangs.


    Its name was Mirror Ghoul, amon monster in dungeons.


    It mimicked human appearance to deceive, then devoured its prey when they let their guard down.


    “Does that still look like ady to you?”


    “Hi, hiik!”


    Tatatatatuck!


    The mirror specter lunged forward.


    Following Donatan’s lead, I thrust my longsword into its mouth.


    Thud!


    As the sword pierced through to the top of the mirror specter’s head, an indistinguishable fluid of blood and brain matter slid down the de.


    The creature’s feeble struggles transmitted to my fingertips, subsiding with a short scream.


    “Limberton. Be wary of the people you meet here.”


    “Should I? There might be monsters like this one…”


    “No, even if they are real people, doubt them, be on guard, and be careful.”


    Limberton blinked in confusion.


    I went to where the mirror specter had originally been and picked up a blue coin from the ground.


    “You know that these coins are points, right?”


    “…Of course, I do.”


    “Then, do you think the professors will count the coins they’ve taken as points?”


    Limberton’s eyes widened as he grasped the intended meaning.


    “But, isn’t that a bit unfair? If that’s allowed, there could be fights over a single coin. That can’t be permitted in the exam.”


    “The professor only said that coins would be counted as points. He didn’t care about where they came from.”


    Soon, the other teams would realize this too.


    By now, they would have dealt with the monsters and traps set on their stages and would have had time to secure their first coins.


    Just as I thought this, Rockefeller’s voice boomed out.


    -Ah, there’s something I forgot to mention. It’s about the reward. Those with high scores are expected to spend their academy life in the top dormitories. And don’t think of the coins merely as points to earn.


    That was the reason why we had to take the third exam.


    -It’s the only currency epted within the academy. Whether it’s food or clothes, no other currency will be recognized.


    And if you don’t want to start empty-handed, you must secure your capital here.


    -Lastly, the coins don’t have names engraved on them. I believe this should be enough motivation. That is all.


    Rockefeller tantly imprinted the notion that the source of the acquired coins didn’t matter, thereby increasing the dungeon’s difficulty before concluding his speech.


    That detestable human…


    No, I’d rather he stopped at that.


    Because from the start, the appearance of the mirror specter meant this was definitely not the 7th start, but the much harder 44th.


    It was almost certain that rotten guy had switched the maps.


    After all, the overall exam coordinator had the authority to do so.


    “Damn it all.”


    Ever since the second test, his attitude towards me has been off-putting, and though I don’t know why, it seems I’ve been marked.


    He probably hopes to see me grovel, no matter the hardship, but that’s wishful thinking.


    I’ll show him.


    How well I can live and thrive in the dungeon.


    * * *


    The dungeon was a sentient being.


    It could be tamed ormunicated with.


    All it needed was a regr supply of food, and in return, it offered rewards.


    Rockefeller extended a marble reflecting the corpse of a deceased examinee to the professor beside him.


    “I’d like to see the status of the donation-based admissions.”


    “Yes, sir…”


    The professor, trembling, presented the marble filled with the tragedy.


    Rockefeller smiled as he observed the plight of the donation-based entrants.


    “Hmm, I wonder if they’re overindulging?”


    Most of the unruly ones were blood-soaked, their lives fading away.


    In contrast, some of the survivors gritted their teeth, plucking out the eyes of monsters with their bare hands, fighting to the end.


    One even strangled a monster with his forearm, tearing its ear off with venomous teeth.


    “Those five will survive.”


    From noble mtl dote


    The ones dragged in unarmed were food provided to the dungeon.


    The reward Rockefeller received was swapping the paths of the easiest number 7 and the hardest number 44.


    “Hmm…”


    Rockefeller sneered at the marble for path number 7 he had kept closest.


    ‘You may have chosen the best number, but in your hands, it’s meaningless.’


    Besides cultivating the dungeon, taming disobedient soldiers was also his delightful hobby.


    “…”


    Unexpectedly, the scene Rockefeller wanted to see did not appear in marble number 7.


    Instead, it only aggravated the onlooker.


    While other teams struggled and became disheveled, the skin of Hershel’s group remained spotless, as if untouched by dust, appearing leisurely.


    Or rather, it seemed they were enjoying themselves.


    “Do they think the dungeon is a yground?”


    “…Using the monsters that were ced as traps to kill them?”


    Rockefeller stopped himself just as he was about to m his fist down on the desk.


    Enjoy it while you can, for the hellish path that awaits won’t go anywhere.


    * * *


    A minotaur charged towards us.


    Imanded Limberton.


    “See that thread we left untouched over there? Cut it with your arrow.”


    “Ah, why is it always me?”


    Ping!


    As the arrow hit its mark and the thread snapped, spears poured out from both walls.


    Grrrargh!


    The minotaur met a screaming demise.


    Thanks to our knowledge of the 44th terrain, encounters with monsters became rare.


    At most, we’d wrap a poison insect trap in a backpack, throw it at a monster, and run.


    Or hide and push them down a slippery slope into a thorny pit.


    When bored, we’d leave a piece of jerky and watch the monsters fight over it from afar.


    Perhaps it was because we kept walking without rest.


    Limberton gasped for air andined.


    “Heave! Heave! So much for being the lead and mobility, what a load of crap. I’m the one doing most of the work.”


    “Don’t talk nonsense. The fact that we’re getting through without any trouble means we’re all doing our jobs.”


    I looked at Limberton, whose pace had slowed, and pointed ahead.


    “There’s a safe zone up ahead. We’ll rest there, so hang in there a bit longer.”


    Even in the dungeon, there were blind spots.


    ces untouched by the influence of any living creature.


    “Why do you know the way so well? And how you know where the monsters are.”


    “…Let’s just say I have a hunch.”


    Limberton gave me a suspicious nce, then whispered in my ear.


    “But why has that big guy been silent this whole time? Can’t he speak?”


    “Seems so,” I murmured.


    I nced at the man wrapped in a full-length robe.


    He was still silently following us.


    As we walked further, we arrived at a ce covered with moss and flowers.


    “…Is this the safe zone?”


    “You know the dungeon is alive, right? This is its stomach. It devours intruders like us and rebirths them as monsters to kill other intruders. That’s how it feeds.”


    Rimbutton’s eyes widened in surprise as if hearing it for the first time, and he nodded.


    “So, the fact that this moss is left even though it digests human bones means this is an area its stomach doesn’t reach. Got it?”


    “This is quite shocking. I didn’t know you knew so much…”


    It’s strange that he doesn’t know.


    If he had joined the Knight Corps, he should know.


    It was a topic on the Knight Corps’ written exam; how did he ever pass…


    “Anyway, let’s eat here.”


    I emptied one of my backpacks, shaking out all the dried food, water, and bread.


    Rimbutton’s eyes rounded in dismay.


    “Wait, we’re supposed to spread this out over three days. Are you nning to eat it all now?”


    Well, I did want to show Rockefeller what a pic looked like.


    And since the difficulty was about to get disgustingly harder, we were bound to exert ourselves to death soon.


    Swallowing my words, Izily opened my eyes and shamelessly replied.


    “Somehow, I have a hunch that it’s better to fully replenish our strength now. It feels like we’ll encounter many unavoidable enemies ahead.”


    “Are you some kind of prophet?”


    “It’s the leader’s decision. Stopining and eat.”


    Though he seemed a bit squeamish, Rimbutton soon took a big bite of the bread.


    The man in the robe, apparently not liking the bread, chewed on a mouthful of jerky from a distance.


    Thanks to everyone’s surprisingly good appetite, the day’s ration was gone in no time.


    “Wow, I’m so full I don’t know if I can move properly.”


    An hour had passed since we finished eating.


    The sounds of battle and screams asionally echoed from the dungeon, but I paid no mind and concentrated on my reading.


    Unable to bear it any longer, Rimbutton spoke up.


    “Hey, resting is fine, but aren’t you too rxed? We barely have any coins. Others must already have a bunch by now. We need to do something.”


    At this moment, we were living the high life, having sucked the honey of fortune dry.


    A seasoned yable character would be out there, eyes aze, hunting down monsters to ughter.


    But for us, taking Route 44, conserving our energy was essential.


    “There’s no need to worry about that.”


    Of course, we’d pocketed our share of coins.


    “Rimbutton, you know what?”


    “Huh?”


    “Life’s all about that one big shot.”


    I checked my pocket watch.


    As the time approached, I stood up from my seat.


    “It’ll take about 15 minutes, so wait here.”


    “What? Where are you going alone?”


    To Rimbutton’s question, I flicked a coin from my pocket and answered.


    “Just going to multiply this little guy.”


    * * *


    Each team entered their assigned gates, advancing towards the exit.


    As they progressed, the paths would narrow, eventually leading them to cross paths with others, a prime geographical spot for those of ill-repute.


    It was perfect for picking the pockets of those fatigued from battle.


    I strolled down the clean corridor, cleared of traps and monsters by the group ahead.


    Then, suddenly, thugs blocking the way appeared.


    “Got some nerve, walking around alone, huh?”


    “Guess your teammates are all dead.”


    “Well, good. Hand over your coins if you want to live.”


    Three in front.


    Two behind.


    Five in total.


    “Not much to take, you might as well extract a flea’s liver.”


    I gripped the handle of my staff and sword, crossing them in my hands.


    Then I blinked, recognizing a face.


    He, too, seemed to recognize me, his face contorting in disdain.


    “Hershel…”


    His nose was wrapped in bandages, and his tightly shut mouth was missing a few teeth, making it look hollow.


    “It’s good to see you again, Rendell.”


    Ah, that’s right. The standard scenario here was to meet the Lethe members trying to extort the yers.


    I had thought he looked familiar from the first time I saw him; it must have been from seeing him here a few times before.


    The gang of Lethe started to panic upon hearing my name.


    “Wait, Hershel is…”


    “Our president, isn’t he?”


    “You idiots! Didn’t I tell you? This guy left the group!”


    The situation started to get interesting, and I shook my head.


    “No? I never left.”


    Then Rendell yelled irritably.


    “After what you did to my nose, what are you talking about? What are you all doing? He’s an outsider now, so finish him off!”


    “But wasn’t it you who fell and hurt yourself?”


    The four men nced at each other.


    Now was the time to drive the point home.


    I ignited ‘The Last Ember of Noble Blood’ to its maximum and spoke in a solemn voice.


    “Beat him up.”


    “Whose, whose words are right?”


    As one of the group hesitated, I opened my eyes menacingly and approached.


    “Whom will you believe? This guy, or me, your president? Decide.”


    Then one of the men grabbed Rendell by the scruff.


    “Of course, our president wouldn’t do such a thing!”


    “No, that’s not true! You fool! I told you I left!”


    “Stop joking, Rendell. I thought it was nonsense the first time I heard such rubbish. Clench your mrs tight!”


    Following the lead of one man’s fist, the rest joined in and stomped on Rendell.


    Thump, thump, thump!


    Even as Rendell was being hit, he red back with resentful eyes brimming with tears, and Donatan said in a horrified voice.


    “Surely, there must be a devil among your ancestors.”


    “It’s all strategy, strategy. Thanks to that, I subdued one without even breaking his nose.”


    Rendel foamed at the mouth, unconscious.


    Four men approached, bowing and scraping, perhaps in hopes of some unforeseen reward.


    I smirked, drawing my staff and sword.


    Then I let out the truth.


    “The fact is, I did quit.”