After receiving confirmed intel, Freya accepted the Guild's request.
With Freya Familia's direct involvement, the monsters around the 24th floor's food store were swiftly eliminated. The entire store was uprooted in one clean sweep—there wasn't even a single attempt to resist.
Still, they hadn't erased every trace. Near the site, a few Violas remained, unable to be fully removed. It was enough to confirm Evilus's involvement in the incident.
"Bang!"
Damn it!
The man smashed his fist hard into the wall.
"Freya... Freya... If it hadn't been for Freya Familia, I wouldn't have had to flee in such a disgrace..."
He tried to justify his retreat, though it wasn't necessary. After all, he'd been facing Orario's strongest force. He was just a mere Level 4—there was no way he could have resisted a Level 7.
"Hmph. Pathetic."
A sneering voice rang in his ears, so sharp and mocking that veins bulged on his forehead in fury.
"Revis!"
A fist appeared in his vision—and in the next moment, his face collided with it. His features twisted from the impact as his whole body was sent crashing into the wall.
"Don't say my name."
Revis's voice was cold and merciless, laced with enough killing intent to freeze the air. Her fist stayed pressed firmly against his face.
"And finish your damn mission. The food store's gone, so find another source of energy. Help the other clone absorb what it needs. That's your job—or have you already forgotten that it was you who said that?"
As her fist pulled back, the man coughed up a mouthful of blood.
"Ugh..."
Spitting the blood to the floor, he glared at Revis with seething hatred—but he had nothing to say in return.
"I'll finish the task the goddess gave me. I'll make sure her light shines on the 59th floor. Just wait—I'll be the one to bring the 'Sword Princess' to her first."
Revis only sneered at his words. Someone who couldn't even beat her had no hope of touching Aria.
Just a mad dog, saved by that woman.
If they weren't so short on manpower, she would have ripped him to pieces then and there.
The man limped away in humiliation, leaving Revis alone, sitting on the ground and staring at her still-unhealed arm.
It should have healed by now—but a strange power at the point of injury was holding it back.
'That blade… or that person...'
She had already confirmed there was no curse on her right arm. If it were a curse, there would have been plenty of ways to cleanse it.
However, the problem with her arm wasn't the most critical issue. The real problem was that restoring her severed arm consumed too much energy. All the Magic Stones she devoured were being used to repair her body, yet her strength remained stagnant. That was the real issue.
This time, it wasn't just the Corrupted Spirit's Fetus faction in the Dungeon that found out—Evilus was also well aware of what had happened.
Once they learned that the "King" was personally leading a team into the Dungeon, no one in Evilus dared to make a move. After all, a Level 7 leading a squad of Level 6s was no joke. If they picked the wrong fight, it'd be like throwing eggs at a rock—they'd be wiped out.
So for now, Evilus stayed quiet and made no move.
The message was simple: stay hidden in the Dungeon until the "King" leaves. Don't charge ahead for no reason—no one's going to save you if you die.
With that kind of pressure, the Dungeon fell into complete silence.
Meanwhile, Bell continued his routine, fully focused on training and ignoring everything else. He devoted himself entirely to building up his "Status."
Time passed like this, day by day.
Bell spent nearly every waking moment in the Dungeon, aiming to push his "Status" to the peak of Level 2 before the expedition began.
To that end, he even set aside his nearly maxed-out 'skills' and put all his time into polishing his "Status."
Naturally, his progress was swift.
But Bell didn't update his "Status" too frequently during this process—he saved it for the final few days.
A month later, Loki Familia sent him a message through Hephaestus.
"You need armor that can block attacks from Level 7s—even Level 8s?"
Bell was speechless when he read the request. He wasn't a blacksmith, so why was this sent to him?
Still, he had a pretty good guess at what Loki Familia was thinking. They probably wanted to rely on Runes to create some kind of defensive gear.
"Forget about armor. There's not enough time to make any. But I could probably put together a few decoy scarecrows for them."
"You still have time?"
"Hmm... The expedition starts in three days, so I might be able to prepare a few. But make sure they pay up—at least 100 million Valis each."
Creating a decoy scarecrow wasn't particularly complex. It involved binding the scarecrow to a person, and when a fatal cause was detected, the effect would transfer to the scarecrow. It was a handy Rune artifact.
However, decoy scarecrows had their limits. They couldn't withstand prolonged attacks and only worked against a single fatal blow. If the attack was area-based or sustained, the scarecrow would be useless.
That's why Bell typically made them alongside transfer talismans, binding them directly to the scarecrows. Hestia and Hephaestus each had such a setup to keep them safe from harm.
"But if Loki knew what your scarecrows could actually do, she'd shell out a billion Valis without hesitation."
Hephaestus said with a smile.
"A billion Valis? Come on. They're flawed. Even selling them at 100 million apiece is already a rip-off."
One billion each would be a stretch. Sure, if he refined them further, they might be worth that much—but there was no real need.
Only fatal attacks could be transferred.
If both sides were evenly matched, the scarecrow might flip the situation in a pinch. But if the difference in strength was too wide, not even a hundred scarecrows could save someone.
"Hestia, please help me update my 'Status'."
"Leave it to me."
...
(100 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / PinkSnake