Vacuse was happy. Very much happy! And it was because of a simple yet strange fact. In the past few months since he entered the Great Dungeon, a lot of people had tried to kill him, and although he had killed them back—most of them anyway—this was the first time he would be striking back immediately after someone plotted against him in the Great Dungeon.
Vacuse had missed his own pettiness, so he smiled happily at the leader of the Mistwalkers. "Three third circle Magus. Might be tricky, but you lot don't have the power of the head supervisor."
"What nonsense are you speaking?" The leader with the bow growled, his eyes dark green like his arrows. "Surrender yourself, and we might forgive you for pointing a weapon at us."
Vacuse looked at him with amusement. "Is that so? You'll forgive me? But why should I surrender? I can smell the fear in you. This is far from what you expected for your hunter team. It seems you have grown comfortable and lost what it means to fight."
