Reverse Dungeon

Thunk! Thunk!

Ian’s arrow struck the approaching skeleton squarely in the chest with surprising accuracy.

The skeleton merely staggered, then kept moving.

By contrast, the skeleton whose skull Louise shattered with a single arrow stopped moving altogether.

“Lord Ian, aim for the head! A monster’s weak point is usually either the head or the heart!”

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Apparently, it had not occurred to Louise that Ian was missing because he lacked the actual skill to hit what he aimed at. Ian wanted to explain, but there was no time for pointless chatter.

Thunk! Bang!

Louise’s arrow smashed into another skeleton with a tremendous sound.

But the mindless skeletons felt no fear. They advanced relentlessly.

Ian barely managed to land one arrow on a skull, but with his current skill level, he could not inflict the same kind of damage Louise did. All he managed to do was crack the bone.

Should I level it up?

Ian hesitated.

Even if he used his remaining experience points to raise <Archery>, it would only reach Level 4. That might make him skilled enough to shatter skeleton skulls, but it would not be enough to overcome this overwhelming difference in numbers.

Ian gave up on relying on arrows that would not land properly.

Instead, he cast <Purification> on one of them.

He set the arrow to the string, drew it back, felt the bowstring press against his lips and chin, and released.

An arrow of light cut across the battlefield, tearing through the miasma.

In that instant, the dark sky split open.

The clouds parted, and light poured through.

Louise’s eyes widened at the sacred sight.

But the effect of <Purification> was not merely spectacle.

“<Water Ball>!”

Sema’s spell struck a skeleton in the chest. The skeleton stiffened from the impact, and then its spine snapped.

Sema’s mouth fell open.

“Lord Ian! Lord Ian, did you see that?! I took one down!”

“Yeah. I saw.”

“The skeletons have grown weaker,” Louise said.

“The purification arrow drove away the malice of the dead. In practice, you’re the one who brought it down.”

Sema did not lose heart.

“Lord Ian! Can’t you weaken them more? If you could purify them completely and make these skeletons stop moving...”

“No.”

“Why not?!”

“My power isn’t strong enough.”

This is exactly why I need to save my experience points.

Even so, Ian had saved as many experience points as possible. At the very least, he had not wasted them on something useless like <Archery>. He had invested everything into <Purification>, and this was still the result.

This could only be called an outrageous scam by the game company. Once he got out of here, Ian wanted to write a five-thousand-word bug report and send it straight to their customer support email.

Clack, clack.

Drag... thump, thump...

The legion of skeletons advanced slowly.

Even after dozens had fallen, their numbers did not seem to have decreased at all.

The only thing left between Ian and them was the staircase leading up to the temple. Once they climbed it, they would reach the entrance.

From there, Ian’s group would have no choice but to retreat down into the collapsed temple below, which would be the same as trapping themselves.

Worse, once inside the temple, the skeletons would receive a stat buff.

Was it a fifty-percent increase to movement speed and attack power?

In a narrow space, the advantage of having a defensive position would be far outweighed by the likelihood of being torn apart before any proper fight could even begin.

Ian watched as a skeleton with a broken spine reached back, realigned its own vertebrae, and rejoined the horde.

Crazy undead bastards...

<Turn Undead>, a sub-skill of <Purification>, only unlocked at Level 7.

Ian’s current <Purification> alone could not stop them.

The same went for his pathetic archery.

“Lord Ian, run!”

“Where?!”

Calm down. Think. There has to be a way.

Ian urged himself to stay composed while firing arrow after arrow.

But as the skeleton legion drew closer, that composure vanished.

They reached for him.

Their empty eye sockets rattled as they fixed on Ian.

They would eliminate the intruder.

They would destroy him.

That intent radiated from their bare bones.

A horrifying sense of reality washed over Ian.

If he was caught here, he would die.

Just as surely as if he were dragged into the machinery of a factory.

He would die.

And it would be real.

Ian would die.

He knew it with instinctive certainty. A chill crawled up his spine, and sweat slicked his palms.

Jeong Yiwon would die here.

Why me?

Why did he have to die here?

An emotion as fierce as fear surged up inside him.

No. That’s insane.

Dying in a car accident or from cancer would already be unfair enough.

But being bitten to death by skeletons?

Was that even a possible cause of death for a modern person?

“Lord Ian!”

Louise stepped in front of Ian, shielding him.

Because the four-star hero was trying to do something insane, Ian shoved him aside.

Ah, damn it...

He should have just let him.

A skeleton opened its jaws right in front of Ian’s face.

At that moment, a massive beam of light pierced through its skull.

Bang!

It was a sword.

A sword white from blade to hilt came flying in, gleaming as if it had been forged from light itself.

Ian saw the man on horseback draw another radiant sword from his back and carve through the skeletons like a farmer reaping wheat.

The skeletons collapsed as if they had never been anything more than loose piles of bone.

Bang! Bang!

The man was clad from head to toe in white armor.

He charged toward Ian.

Nothing could stop him.

He drove straight through the horde, and every swing of his hand reduced another skeleton to scattered bones.

One skeleton sprang toward the man’s head, jaws gaping as it tried to bite him.

“Watch out...!”

Ian tried to warn him.

Without even looking, the man blocked the skeleton with one arm and smashed its face apart with the pommel of the sword in his other hand.

Bang!

After overwhelming the situation by force alone, the man stopped his horse in front of Ian.

He pulled the white sword free from a skeleton’s skull and looked down at him.

“Are you all right?”

The man did not look like someone who needed protection.

He lifted the visor of his helmet.

And with that, his handsome face was revealed.

Deep-set eyes. Blue irises. Dense golden lashes that shifted with every movement of his gaze, making him seem almost inhuman. A sharp nose. Thin lips that looked as though they had been drawn with a fine line. Dark, strong brows.

His pale complexion lent him something sacred.

It was a face that would shine even in the dark.

Insanely badass.

Ian thought so without meaning to.

Thump, thump...

His heart was racing.

The relief of survival, the thrill of finally meeting him, and the lingering adrenaline all tangled together, sending Ian’s pulse out of control.

All Ian could do was stare.

Holy Knight Keith smiled.

“You follow the will of the divine. It is an honor to meet you here. I will greet you properly soon.”

He looked around.

His gaze as he surveyed the skeleton legion was utterly emotionless. His expression went blank.

There was a sharpness to him like an arrow drawn tight against a bowstring, and Ian could not help tensing.

Then Keith turned back to him.

“Ah.”

As if he had just remembered something, Keith extended a hand.

When he placed his palm against Ian’s cheek, warmth spread over the stinging spot there. Only then did Ian realize that a wound he had not even noticed was healing.

Keith held Ian’s chin and turned his face gently from side to side, checking for any other injuries.

Then he let go.

Keith took up the reins and charged back toward the horde of skeletons.

Seriously insanely badass...

Ian released the breath he had been holding.

Even with all his forced choices, there was a reason Keith maintained the number-one pick rate.

And according to one player’s strategy post, there was a certain perverse pleasure in slightly twisting those forced choices...

Ian, who had been frozen in place, suddenly had a thought.

But why was Keith appearing now?

Ah. No way.

Ian realized who had triggered the event.

The one who had entered the Elf god’s domain without praying was not Ian’s party.

It was Keith.

“He’s just cleaning up his own mess...”

Ian’s gratitude vanished.

“L-Lord Ian. Sir Keith! It’s Sir Keith!”

Sema tugged at Ian’s clothes.

“I know. No one else would wear armor like that.”

“K-Keith?! Even if you are Lord Ian, you should call him Sir Keith! He is the representative of the divine!”

“Fine, fine. Stop shaking me.”

Damn reputation system.

By any normal standard, Keith was either devout to the point of absurdity or an outright fanatic. But thanks to ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) his reputation, he always made a good first impression.

The exact opposite of Ian.

But setting that aside, Ian was curious about something else.

“Wait. Can I recruit him?”

Keith?

Keith?!

Hidden route. Holy shit!

Ian’s heart pounded.

After dealing with all the skeletons, Keith sheathed his sword and approached them.

“I have taken care of them all. You may rest easy. But why has a priest come to a place like this...”

He had been speaking gently.

Then Keith suddenly drew his sword.

His eyes turned fierce.

“Clan of traitors!”