“Gah!”
With a gasp that held not a trace of princely dignity, Arthur jolted upright. Looking around in a daze, he realized he’d awoken from the dream and swept his hand through his hair.
Joy. That wretch! How much had she bottled up to use such a horrific spell on me!
Even if the Academy’s dungeon had safety measures and the Saint was right there, wasn’t that a bit much?
The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced—she really had meant to kill him!
Arthur wiped the cold sweat from his brow and spotted Joy nearby, muttering in her sleep with her eyes closed. He leaned over and tapped her forehead lightly.
“Ouch?!”
Joy sprang awake, clutching her forehead and glancing around in confusion until her eyes landed on Arthur. Hastily, she pulled a fan from her robe to hide her face.
“Joy. Do you have anything to say?”
“I trust Your Highness understands that it was necessary for our progress in the dungeon.”
“Yes, yes. I understand. I’m sure you endured a tearing heart as you turned on us for the sake of the mission.”
“Haha. As expected of Your Highness. Well, then...”
“So, I shall also restrain my tearing heart... just once.”
“...Pardon?”
Arthur took a step toward her, prompting Joy to back away in haste.
“Who knows? This might still be a dream.”
“You’re just trying to get revenge for earlier!”
“Ah. Don’t insult my noble intentions with such an accusation.”
“Oh? Ah! No! Eek!”
After thoroughly pinching her cheeks in playful retaliation, Arthur left the now pouting Joy alone and approached Frey and Faivy, who had just woken up.
“Would either of you like to avenge yourselves on her? I’ll grant permission as your prince.”
“No, we’re fine. It was unavoidable, after all.”
“Yeah. Unlike you, we’re not so petty.”
With their refusals, Arthur found himself suddenly cast as the villain, and he did his best to ignore Joy’s sharp glare from behind him, clearing his throat awkwardly.
“Well, let’s put that behind us and get back to the dungeon. Judging by our surroundings, it seems Joy’s theory was correct.”
The area where they now stood had the same structure as the room they’d been in before.
There were a few differences.
The walls had deteriorated over the years, with holes in various places.
The carpet was so worn it was barely recognizable.
The decorations had decayed, casting a gloomy atmosphere.
Aside from these differences, the room was an exact match for the one they’d been in within the dream.
“Let’s hope this doesn’t turn into another endless hallway,” Arthur muttered, stepping forward, praying that Lucy wouldn’t be so cruel.
After the forced rest they’d had in the fourth room, the group’s steps felt light.
Having been locked in combat from dawn to dusk daily, half a day of merely wandering the halls had left them full of energy.
Rather than restraining Frey, who was itching to run ahead, they matched her pace, reaching the end of the corridor quickly.
“So, we’re supposed to go in here?”
Where the cradle had been in the first corridor, there was now a door.
Frey immediately drew her sword and was about to cut down the door to enter, but Arthur grabbed her by the back of her neck, stopping her charge.
“Hold on. Let’s check what’s on the other side...”
“Oh-ho. It looks like we have guests at last. I was beginning to think I’d die of boredom waiting.”
They had no time to inspect what lay beyond.
Before Arthur could say anything to Joy and Faivy, the door opened, and someone appeared on the other side.
It was a man with a scruffy appearance, dressed in rags.
A stench like that of rotting flesh.
Oily hair hanging in matted strands.
The crazed glint of a derelict’s eyes, barely visible from under his unkempt hair.
The man looked over the group, then smirked and opened his mouth to speak.
“Hello...”
But as soon as he opened his mouth, a divine orb exploded in front of his eyes, cutting him off.
Ordinarily, the flash would have left anyone reeling, but the man simply closed his eyes, avoiding the blinding light.
“Oops. I was going to welcome you, but instead, I got a welcome gift.”
Frey, finally freed from Arthur’s grip, surged forward with her sword glowing with aura, aiming to cleave him in half with a single blow.
But the man casually twisted his body to evade her attack, his voice calm as he continued.
“Calm down. I may be a fallen noble, but I wouldn’t harm my long-awaited guests.”
He effortlessly dodged Frey’s attacks as he spoke, eventually grabbing her by the neck and tossing her aside before dusting his hands off.
Frey landed gracefully beside Arthur, frowning slightly.
“I can’t reach him with my sword.”
“He’s like the wolves, maybe?”
“No... more like when I faced Professor Carl.”
An overwhelming difference in skill, pressing down upon her.
Arthur bit his lip as he glanced at the man standing with his hands behind his back.
This guy didn’t seem like someone they could defeat through normal means.
...Wait. Judging by the decayed surroundings and the man’s ghastly appearance, could he be a spirit?
If he’s someone who defied death, then perhaps Faivy could purify him.
“It’s impossible, Your Highness.”
As if reading his thoughts, Faivy shook her head.
“This man is alive. And he holds divine energy within him.”
So no shortcuts.
Tch. You’re thorough to a maddening degree, Lucy Alrn.
“Well, we can’t have our guests standing around forever. Please, come in.”
The man gestured, holding the door open for them, his demeanor highly suspicious.
So suspicious, in fact, that it almost made Arthur doubt there was any hidden intent.
Frankly, Arthur had no desire to follow the invitation.
Handing control to an unknown figure felt deeply unsettling.
But the problem was that they had no other option.
If they didn’t go through the door, they’d be stuck endlessly searching the corridor like before.
It was better to risk the trap knowingly and search for clues inside than to wander aimlessly again.
At worst, they’d be expelled from the dungeon upon entering the room.
The room looked like a typical office, though run-down. There didn’t appear to be any magical traps, and the Saint hadn’t sensed anything malevolent, either.
Even in the worst case, they might find at least a hint of something useful.
The moment Arthur made his decision, he felt the gazes of Joy, Faivy, and Frey on him.
They all trusted his judgment, and while he found that responsibility a bit heavy, he maintained a calm, composed expression.
“Let’s go. Let’s see what Lucy Alrn has in store.”
Arthur stepped forward, and the others followed him into the room.
As they entered, they were immediately met with the musty, sour smell typical of an old, filthy house.
The man standing outside the door spoke up in a grim tone as he closed it behind them.
“Welcome to the mansion, everyone. I hope you enjoy yourselves.”
What was he going on about now?
Arthur barely had time to process the strangeness of his words before the man shut the door with a heavy thud.
This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.
A crack spread across the floor, and before they could react, the ground gave way, and they began to fall.
“Damn! Joy! Take care of the Saint!”
“Don’t worry!”
Arthur saw Joy quickly cast several wind spells to slow her descent as she held onto Faivy. Reassured, he then focused on locating Frey.
Damn it. Where is she?
If they hit the ground, even Frey might not come out unscathed!
Looking around in panic, Arthur spotted Frey not below him but above.
“Looks like I worried for nothing.”
Frey was leaping from one falling piece of debris to the next, somehow managing to stay suspended in mid-air.
How she was doing that, he couldn’t say.
But at least she wouldn’t be hurt from the fall.
Shaking his head at the strange sight, Arthur finished casting his own spell just before he reached the ground.
Landing safely, Arthur dusted off bits of debris from his hair and looked around.
Is this the mansion’s entrance?
That scruffy guy said to enjoy our time here, so we’ll probably need to explore this place for clues.
Sighing, he decided to do a quick survey today and return for a thorough exploration tomorrow.
“...Wait.”
Arthur froze as he noticed something in the center of the mansion’s entrance.
It was an object all too familiar to him and his party.
To anyone who had ever attempted to clear the Academy’s dungeon.
“A recording device... here?”
A recording device.
A unique fixture of the Academy’s dungeon, replacing the typical safe zones in other dungeons.
A mechanism allowing challengers to avoid starting from the first floor each time.
Why was it here?
Why was this device, absent from the previous rooms, suddenly present?
As Arthur pondered, the mansion’s entrance opened, revealing a staircase descending into darkness.
Seeing the seemingly endless staircase, Arthur checked the recording device with an urgent sense of foreboding.
“Floor 0.”
The number engraved on it was clear in its meaning.
All the rooms they had cleared so far were nothing but a dream.
A tutorial meant to familiarize challengers with the gimmicks.
And now, starting from the mansion entrance...
The real dungeon begins.
“...This is going to be insane.”
Grasping the situation, Arthur glared at the “Floor 0” engraving and let out a hollow laugh.
“What kind of gimmick is that?! One mistake and you die?!”
Having been forcibly expelled from the dungeon after failing the first-floor boss, Arthur stormed out, ruffling his hair in frustration.
A room where mistiming your attacks was a death sentence—no room for error!
Who makes a dungeon like this?!
“Haha. Poor prince. Trying to win sympathy with your disheveled look? If you wanted to look like a beggar, there are much better ways, you know?”
At the sound of a familiar, high-pitched, mocking voice, Arthur didn’t even need to turn to know who it was.
“Lucy Alrn. Why are you here?”
Lucy Alrn.
The girl who’d designed the very dungeon he’d just been cursing was watching him with an amused look.
“I was waiting to see the face of the defeated.”
“...What?”
“Pfft. Hah. It was worth waiting to see the pitiful prince trembling. So, how was it? A glorious dungeon you’ll never clear no matter how many years you try, right? Am I right?”
...This damn kid.
As if making him suffer in that hellish dungeon wasn’t enough, she was here to mock him too.
“Why so silent? Was my dungeon so extraordinary that your pathetic vocabulary can’t even describe it?”
“You want an answer?”
“You’re going to give me one?”
“I could, but I have one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“Let me smack you just once.”
I can’t hold back my irritation any longer, watching you smirk.
So give me your head. I don’t know if my punch will do any damage, but at least I’ll feel better after hitting you.
“Pfft. Oh my. Are you angry? Do you want to hit this tiny, cute little girl? How disgusting of you, Your Highness.”
“Fine, forget it.”
I didn’t mean it that seriously. I just wanted to show my annoyance. If you’re not going to let me...
“I didn’t say no, did I?”
“...What?”
Caught off guard, Arthur froze as Lucy trotted up to him, offering her head.
...Wait. So, she really wants me to hit her?
To actually punch this tiny head?
Sure, I know she’s sturdy, but...
Even so...
“Pah. Truly pathetic. Given the chance, you’re too scared to take it. No wonder I’ll keep calling you a pitiful prince.”
With a teasing laugh, Lucy stepped back, giggling under the moonlight as she taunted him.
But just as quickly as the moment began, it ended. As soon as Joy appeared, Lucy darted over to her side, abandoning him without a second thought.
Left alone, Arthur covered his now-bright red face with his hands and resolved once more.
When I clear that dungeon, I’ll make sure to at least give her a proper smack.