Return of the Fallen Nobleman With an SSS-Rank Talent-Chapter 67: Dungeon [3]

Zev felt the greatest triumph he had ever experienced.

A rush of adrenaline coursed through his veins, rising from his chest to his fingertips. His lips slowly curved into a smile.

The human-faced Rank I tarantula writhed violently. Shrill screams, filled with rage and hatred, burst from its mouth.

Its seven remaining legs pounded the ground like a wild drum, causing the dust covering the floor to vibrate.

Breathing heavily, Zev watched as the creature lunged at him. Its expression was strange, almost excited, with an unsettling gleam in its eyes, while the stench of decay and old blood filled his nostrils.

The attack was brutal.

The seven legs moved like uncontrolled blades.

But just as they were about to reach it, the creature’s body shook violently. It lost its balance, tripped over its own legs, and fell to the ground like a grotesque, uncontrolled mass.

Zev didn’t hesitate. Ignoring the pain in his muscles and the throbbing of his wounds, he launched himself into the attack.

His plan had worked.

The leg he had cut off earlier was one of the dominant ones. Having lost it, the creature had been unable to adapt, and its balance had been thrown off.

The sword came down violently.

First, there was a metallic hiss as the blade pierced the exoskeleton.

Then came the wet crunch of flesh giving way.

Another leg fell.

This time, the blow was harder, splattering blood black as ink.

Thick drops flew through the air. Some exploded hot on Zev’s face. Others painted the walls with grotesque arcs of shadow.

The tarantula screamed.

A howl pierced the air, so sharp it seemed to shatter the silence of the stones.

Its body convulsed violently. Its legs thrashed the ground as if trying to break free.

Zev staggered backward, his legs burning from the effort.

The air burned his lungs with every breath, but he couldn’t afford to pause for more than a second.

The tarantula was still there, its hairy legs scratching at the ground with an ominous rhythm.

No.

It wouldn’t give him a moment’s respite.

Zev lunged forward, and the blade of his sword began to trace deadly arcs through the air.

Each cut sliced through the air before sinking into the tarantula’s chitinous body, releasing jets of viscous black liquid that splattered around it.

The creature’s screams exploded against his eardrums, shrill and desperate, a symphony of agony that echoed throughout the room.

For a moment, everything seemed to stop.

Every movement Zev made was etched in his mind like a frozen image: the crunch of flesh tearing, the acrid smell of tarantula blood mingling with the salty sweat running down his forehead, the trembling in his arms from accumulated fatigue.

Little by little, the screams faded away.

All that remained was a heavy silence, broken only by his labored breathing, his chest rising and falling violently.

The young man stood motionless, the sword trembling in his hand, watching the corpse still shaking in spasms.

Drops of black blood ran down his face, mixing with sweat. His eyes, which had once shone with a mysterious light, were now empty.

Something inside him had changed.

...

With slow steps and a calm expression, Adam approached Zev, who was about to faint from severe blood loss.

Before he could fall to the ground, Adam quickly caught him to prevent him from collapsing.

"Don’t move too much. You have too many injuries."

Zev nodded weakly and slowly slumped down, leaning on him as he tried to catch his breath.

Adam took out some bandages, knelt beside him, and began to bandage him calmly, moving his hands quickly and precisely to prevent the wounds from worsening.

As he worked, he spoke:

"You did well. Despite not having access to mana, it was a great performance."

He paused briefly as he adjusted the bandage around Zev’s arm.

"You have good reflexes, but you think too much. Thinking too much in a fight can get you killed."

His eyes scanned the young man’s wounds before continuing.

"When you froze... if it hadn’t been for your instincts, you would have lost your mind."

Zev remained silent as he listened. He didn’t look away and seemed focused on every word.

Adam finished securing the last bandage and withdrew his hands.

He had made mistakes, many in fact... but he had also shown something that was not easy to find.

Talent.

By his own standards, Zev still had a long way to go.

But at least... he was someone he could mold.

"For now, rest; we still have several more days, so don’t worry about the time."

Adam watched as Zev slowly closed his eyes; it seemed as if he had been holding back his consciousness all this time. He watched him for a moment and continued bandaging him.

That’s when he felt the vibration.

Light at first. Then it becomes more intense.

The ground shook beneath their feet.

Suddenly...

A large group of monsters emerged from various corners of the vast hall.

The creatures looked like dogs from hell itself: two heads full of teeth, skinned bodies with mouths and eyes as red as blood. A long tail, full of eyes and teeth, with a mouth at the end, made them look even more grotesque.

With a completely calm expression, Adam directed his mana toward his heart. There, the flow of energy condensed and began to take shape, transforming into a magic circle.

That was also part of his training. He had to take the first steps toward using magic and swordsmanship at the same time.

Adam advanced toward the monsters.

His movements were not elegant; they were simple and lethal. He turned with the rhythm of a breath, and his sword traced a horizontal cut that split a skull. A moment later, a thrust pierced a torso and burst the organs inside.

The blade drew perfect arcs, whistling as it cut through the humid air before sinking into flesh and tendons.

Then, tiny drops of water appeared around him.

They floated in the air, spinning slowly, mingling with the thick iron smell. There was no beauty in the sound that surrounded him: the creatures’ screeches pierced the air, interrupted by the wet gurgling of punctured lungs.

Adam moved forward without stopping.

The slippery floor of entrails tried to slow him down, but his steps were calculated. Each footprint left a brief trail of water that disappeared almost instantly.