Reverse Dungeon

As the third Life Vessel shattered, the world began to change.

The elves were the first to notice.

“The corrupted mana is fading.”

“What do you mean?”

“The air feels different. Look—the breeze is cool.”

At the top of the tower, there were only a few small windows, narrow enough to keep sunlight from damaging the books while still allowing air to circulate and regulate the library’s humidity.

Keith found it difficult to notice such a faint current.

It was the kind of subtle change only an elf, a race known as forest dwellers, would likely perceive.

Instead, Keith sensed something else. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

“Do earthquakes happen in the desert as well?”

“Hm?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’m a forest elf. I’ve never lived in a place like this.” The elf shrugged.

“I see. I thought you wouldn’t know.”

“...?”

Respect for one’s elders often came from the wisdom accumulated over long years of life.

However, after observing the elf’s behavior throughout their not-so-short journey, Keith had begun to doubt whether this particular elder possessed any such virtue.

While the elf struggled to come up with a response, Keith reached out toward Ian.

“Lord Ian.”

Ian said nothing and simply took Keith’s hand.

In the blink of an eye, Keith had pulled him into his arms.

“It’s collapsing,” Ian warned. “Be careful.”

“...!”

As if those words had been the signal, the tower began to crumble like a castle made of sand.

Ian felt himself drop.

A deep, stomach-turning sensation of freefall swallowed him.

He knew he wouldn’t die from the impact. After raising his archery to such a high level, Ian’s agility and jumping ability were nearly on par with an elf’s—though he had no idea how exactly that was supposed to help in this situation.

Still, it probably meant he would take less damage from a fall.

Keith, however, had simply grabbed him because there was no time to argue.

Though his damage resistance wasn’t as absurd as Ian’s, Keith possessed defensive skills, a body as hard as steel, and far more health than Ian did.

‘I guess he’s protecting my HP. No reason to interfere.’

Sure enough, Keith landed cleanly.

Ian, held securely in his arms, barely felt the impact at all.

After being set down from Keith’s embrace, Ian waved a hand in front of his face to clear the swirling dust and sand.

“Ow... my whole body...”

Even the long-lived elf seemed to have emerged unscathed, so there was nothing to worry about.

‘Well, not nothing.’

It was time to receive the reward for the Western Desert quest.

And the people meant to give it to him were probably already on their way.

Ian glanced back at Keith.

“In a little while, the people from Oasis Village are going to come running at us with weapons. Try not to kill them.”

‘...?’

Keith clearly had many questions, but he decided to ask them one at a time.

“Are you referring to the robbers you so mercifully forgave, or to their neighbors?”

Ian was grateful Keith at least understood that tying people up could make their neighbors angry.

Though when exactly had the village chief and his men ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) become “robbers Ian had forgiven”?

“Both.”

“The whole village is coming?” the elf asked. “Why?”

‘Did you already forget?’

Ian looked at him.

“We tied them up and drugged them.”

“Oh... but that’s what they were planning to do to us, right?”

“Exactly.”

“...?”

People did not always think rationally.

For example, if a younger brother took a dog out to bite someone and got beaten for it, his older brother would not simply say, You deserved that.

The reasons Ian’s current life had not been particularly pleasant were not entirely Ian’s fault.

Not entirely.

But not completely unrelated to him either.

He had never wanted to become an orphan.

And Ian had been lucky, all things considered.

He had grown up in one piece and managed to avoid juvenile detention.

‘Hit one, and several more come charging in...’

Ian felt a flicker of pity for his younger self, who had only understood that lesson after ending up in the hospital with an eight-week injury certificate.

Still, he had somehow grown up and become a functioning adult.

And now here he was, inside a game, fighting monsters.

‘Life...’

“They are coming to commit further crimes without repenting for their previous ones,” Keith said gravely.

He valued human life, and witnessing human depravity pained him.

But sorrow and punishment were separate matters.

“Are you saying we should not punish such people?”

“Yes.”

“You intend to bear all their sins yourself. I understand that.” Keith’s voice grew solemn. “But if the wicked are not punished, they will continue harming the innocent for the rest of their lives. That is why punishment must be severe.”

Keith had never been merciful when dealing with evil.

Ian, however, seemed soft-hearted—almost inclined to forgive them.

Ian answered sincerely.

“No... they haven’t done anything worth dying over. I mean, if everyone who committed a crime got killed, there wouldn’t be any humans left.”

Keith looked pleased.

At last, Ian was showing interest in doctrine.

“Not every sin warrants death. Punishment must correspond to the gravity of the crime.”

Ian suddenly narrowed his eyes in discomfort.

“So what do you think the punishment should be for someone who goes around hitting people?”

“Are you referring to assault? Naturally, the assailant should suffer greater pain than the victim.”

Ian fell silent.

“Why do you ask?”

“Well... how old were you when you started working with the Holy Knights?”

“Sixteen.”

Ian looked off into the distance.

‘How many people had I beaten by the time I was sixteen?’ ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com

Keith could not understand the meaning of the question.

‘Ah.’

A realization struck him.

Lord Ian had once had a habit of striking foolish mages and members of other races.

Keith hurriedly corrected the possible misunderstanding.

“Lord Ian, your reprimands are not meant to harm. They are lessons.”

‘Talking about love that doesn’t hurt...’

Ian stared at him in disbelief.

It seemed Keith had been cutting people down—or beating them—since the age of sixteen.

What exactly had the Vatican been teaching a child?

But that wasn’t the issue right now.

There were things they had to do before the people of Oasis Village arrived.

“Just try not to punish them for now. They haven’t actually harmed us.”

“Lord Ian, even harboring such intent can be a crime, regardless of the outcome.”

“No, that’s not— If someone truly wanted to kill but didn’t, shouldn’t that be praised?”

“You finally said something sensible.”

Ian pointed at the elf.

“Ah, praise? Somehow that doesn’t feel good.”

The elf looked baffled, unsure whether he was supposed to laugh.

Ian turned and started walking toward the village.

Keith could not press his argument when the vote was two against one.

‘Majority rule.’

The road back was far more pleasant than the road there.

The desert storm had completely stopped, leaving the desert spread out before them like a painting.

The terrible heat remained, though.

Still, walking was much easier now, and they continued on without much difficulty.

Eventually, the elf spoke.

“Ah, dazzling. Look, something shiny is coming this way. Metal.”

He smiled at Ian.

“They look very angry. They haven’t spotted us yet, though. What should we do?”

“What else?”

If people were angry, you calmed them down.

Ian placed his hand against a pillar of sand.

It stood roughly two meters tall—higher than Ian, though not as broad as Keith.

Large enough, it seemed, to trap an ordinary person inside.

‘<Purification>.’

If the sandstorm was a curse, then perhaps these desert pillars, born from that same curse, could be dispelled through purification as well.

It was an idea that had occurred to Ian once he had gotten used to the game’s mechanics, though he could no longer remember exactly which playthrough it had been.

And he had been right.

A cool breeze carrying the fresh scent of the forest appeared from nowhere and swept past Ian’s hand.

The next instant, the sand pillar collapsed.

Crash...!

A man who had been frozen inside tumbled out and fell face-first onto the ground.

Fortunately, he landed in soft sand and seemed unhurt.

He brushed sand from his face as he tried to rise, only for his legs to give out beneath him.

“What... Where am I...?”

The man could barely open his eyes.

After so long without light, they struggled painfully against the harsh sun.

Ian did not know the man’s name.

But the villagers running toward them with tools in their hands did.

“Thomas!”