The final floor of the end-of-term exam dungeon.
Using their knowledge from previous dungeon records, Arthur and his party finally arrived before the boss room. They’d done this countless times by now, each member preparing for the battle ahead.
At first, they’d adjusted their strategies with every attempt, experimenting to find the optimal approach. But now, there was no need for further discussion; they knew exactly what to do.
In the midst of preparations, Arthur recalled what Joy had said before they entered the dungeon.
“If we can’t handle that final spell, then we’ll just have to make sure it can’t be cast at all!”
When she’d excitedly proposed this idea, Arthur had doubted whether it was even possible. Interfering with someone else’s magic circle was a monumental feat on its own, but to disrupt the spell of a being far more powerful than them? It sounded like madness.
Arthur, with his knowledge from Magic Studies, knew just how outlandish her suggestion was.
“Don’t worry, Your Highness. I’ve memorized that magic circle after seeing it so many times. I’ve internalized its structure, so interfering with it should be entirely possible,” Joy had assured him with confidence.
But her unwavering confidence only made Arthur more anxious. Typically, whenever Joy got this self-assured, it ended with a disastrous blunder.
Drawing from past experiences, Arthur had tried to dissuade her.
“But even if failure is inevitable, it’s no reason not to try, right?”
That comment had shut him up. She was right.
As long as they had unlimited opportunities, a foreseeable failure wasn’t a reason to avoid attempting the impossible. It was more unnatural not to try. Lucy Allen herself had shown them through this dungeon that clues and solutions were found at the end of daring attempts.
“Fine. Let’s give it a shot.” “...One request for the challenge, though. Could you drive the fifth-floor boss to its last stand without me?”
Arthur remembered her words and couldn’t help but smirk.
“Let’s see if we can actually do it.”
He’d agreed to her request, but now he wasn’t sure they could really pull it off. The fifth-floor boss was no pushover.
Arthur was massaging his neck, deep in thought, when Frey tugged at his sleeve, catching his attention.
“Your Highness.” “What is it?” “This time, I’ll act as I see fit.” “...Since when have you ever listened to me?”
She was always rushing in and causing trouble whenever she could, so why was she announcing that now?
“I haven’t been acting on my own,” she replied, tilting her head as if the question was obvious.
Arthur froze. She hadn’t been acting on her own? And now she was going to let loose even more?
“You do realize we’ll be fighting without Joy’s help, right?” “That’s exactly why I’m saying this.”
Arthur met her determined gaze and, after a moment’s thought, sighed and nodded. He didn’t particularly like Frey’s unilateral actions, but he respected her talent. If it weren’t for Lucy Allen’s influence, Frey would still be considered an unrivaled genius. If she thought there was a way forward, he’d trust her.
If her plan failed... Well, he’d have words for her later.
“Just checking, but do you have anything to add, Saintess?”
Arthur turned to Faivy, who nodded with her usual gentle smile.
“Your Highness.” “Yes?” “Relax.” “...Excuse me?”
“When Joy is with us, you can step back and oversee the strategy. But she’s not here now.”
Arthur would need to take up the coordination that Joy had managed. Rather than micromanaging every move, he had to trust each person to handle their part and focus on his own.
“Lady Kent, myself—we’re all capable of doing our part no matter what. There’s no need for you to carry everything alone.” “...You’re right.”
Arthur realized what he’d been missing. He’d been trying to orchestrate everything, believing it was the most effective approach—like Lucy Allen had shown him.
But right now, that approach was unnecessary.
Everyone knew their roles; there was no need for Arthur to control every step.
“Trust us,” Faivy said, meeting his gaze.
“I will,” Arthur responded, nodding back.
With that, they were ready.
There was only one task left for Arthur and his team.
Defeat the fifth-floor boss.
“Let’s begin.”
Arthur pushed open the door, and a chilling voice oozed from within, like something rising from the depths.
“What did you think of my mansion? Of my memories? Were they enjoyable? Entertaining?”
The creature within, arms spread wide, projected an aura of malice that seemed to smother the air itself. Yet Arthur and his party faced it with composure.
The first time they’d encountered that voice, they’d frozen in fear. Now, after hearing it over a hundred times, it was just an annoyance.
“Now, it’s the final act. I hope even the ending suits your tastes.”
Instinctively, Arthur opened his mouth to issue commands, but before he could, Frey had already dashed past him.
Enveloped in an aura, she charged forward, aiming to decapitate the creature before it even unsheathed its blade.
But the creature, unfazed by the ferocious assault, merely grinned, catching Frey’s strike with a hand covered in aura.
“Hasty. Shouldn’t you allow the lead actor to deliver their lines?” it sneered.
“Not particularly.”
Without a hint of emotion, Frey responded, her expression blank as she launched into an intense assault that left no room for breath.
“So sorrowful. So tragic.”
In that instant, Frey abruptly retreated.
The creature’s line, the blue hue of its eyes, and the opening it presented were all gimmicks she’d learned to avoid.
Was she handling this on her own?
Arthur laughed quietly to himself.
In the past, as soon as that pattern appeared, he would shout out her name in desperation, fearing she’d get absorbed in her attack and miss the clue.
But none of that had been necessary.
Frey knew how to handle this gimmick herself.
She could’ve told me she had it covered sooner.
Arthur chuckled inwardly, drawing several magic circles around himself.
You’ve shown you can handle your task.
Now I’ll show I can handle mine.
Arthur wasn’t as skilled in magic as Joy, but he was far from ordinary. Having long surpassed the standard of a first-year student, Arthur’s skills were more than enough to tackle the boss’s gimmicks.
“Let’s change the stage colors!”
With a shout, the creature’s body began to pulse with a red aura, spreading out across the room.
This was one of the boss’s main gimmicks on the fifth floor.
They had to strike every red spot on its body within a certain time limit. If they failed, a lethal spell would target them instantly.
But this time, that threat would be nullified.
Arthur unleashed his prepared spell, casting a hail of mana bolts from his central magic circle, striking every red spot and immobilizing the creature.
“Nice work, Your Highness.” “Save the chatter, Frey. Focus on your job.” “...You’re as unbearable as ever.” “Not as bad as you.”
Exchanging playful banter, the two fell silent and focused as the creature steadied itself and drew its sword.
Even without Joy, they moved seamlessly, each performing their role.
When the creature spread its curses, Faivy purified them immediately.
When it charged with its blade, Frey intercepted and defended.
While they held the line, Arthur unleashed magic from his circles, forcing the creature back.
When Frey sustained injuries, Faivy healed her while Arthur moved forward to buy them time.
Despite the absence of a central coordinator like Joy, they worked in a natural rhythm. Though some rough edges showed without a central guide, Arthur and his team held strong.
Their makeshift bridge may have seemed ready to collapse, but with each member’s efforts, they continued pushing forward toward victory.
“Hahaha! Yes, splendid! Let’s see this through to the end!”
The most uptodat𝓮 n𝒐vels are published on freёwebnovel.com.
How long had they been fighting?
At some point, the creature laughed, scattering a crimson energy around itself.
The final pattern of the fifth-floor boss.
The gimmick that had stymied Arthur’s team countless times.
The catastrophe with no apparent solution.
Seeing it form, Arthur exhaled roughly and turned back.
“Joy!”
It’s your turn.
We’ve gotten this far for you. Don’t let all our efforts go to waste!
Meeting Arthur’s gaze, Joy grabbed the red gemstone hanging around her neck—a gift Lucy had given her not long ago. It had steadily absorbed mana over time, becoming her trump card.
Taking a deep breath, she channeled her mana into the gemstone and closed her eyes.
In this moment, she didn’t need physical sight.
What she needed was the vision of a mage, her honed sense from training since childhood as a noble of the Partran family.
I see it. My mana.
I see it. The crimson aura of that creature’s mana.
I see it. The spell it’s crafting.
The magic circle I’ve seen so many times, engraved in my mind until now.
A perfect match for what I remember!
A grin tugged at her lips as she unleashed the gemstone’s mana, opening her eyes.
The sapphire blue of her irises sparkled with the flicker of crimson, and her mana spread outwards, pushing back the creature’s crimson energy.
Joy’s and the creature’s mana clashed, grinding against each other like sharpened teeth, each trying to claim its ground.
“Futile! Do you think a half-wit like you can stop me?” the creature jeered.
“Not a word I’d care to hear from a lazy slob who can’t even take care of himself!” Joy shot back.
The situation was on a razor’s edge; one misstep could mean disaster. But Joy’s grin only grew sharper.
Sorry, but I won’t lose!
The others created a miracle to get me here, so failure isn’t an option!
If I mess this up, Prince, Faivy, and Lady Kent will never let me live it down!
So please, offer yourself as the sacrifice for my success!
You worthless layabout of a noble!