Chapter 13: Did they catch a big fish?
On the fourteenth floor of the Dungeon, at a Dark Faction outpost, the rats who had just finished their work were celebrating.
According to information passed down from the Guild, the Ganesha Familia had withdrawn its forces and planned to adopt a defensive counterattack strategy.
Such a rational and effective approach naturally earned no praise from their enemies.
Upon hearing the news, the Dark Faction members all reacted in more or less the same way.
"Hahaha, what heroes? What Elephant God's staff? That's all they've got!"
"At least they know themselves—no matter how many they send, they won't find our base!"
"As long as we Dark Faction unite, we're unbeatable!"
The rats popped their collars in celebration. They really did have reason to be happy.
This wasn't some self-consoling theory of victory—it was a genuine achievement on the battlefield.
Compared to their past life of hiding and sneaking around, their current situation felt like a dream.
Making Orario's righteous factions back off was something the Dark Faction hadn't accomplished in a very long time.
For the old-timers who had lived through the era of the two great familias, the feeling was even more profound.
They had walked on thin ice their entire lives and had finally reached the other shore!!
And next, even more victories awaited them. Their future was truly bright—no, dark!
"So what if he's a fierce one? He definitely won't be a match for those two!"
"Now we can transport supplies through the normal Dungeon routes without worrying about getting caught by those bastards."
"The Dark Faction ruling Orario—today! Right here, today!"
In the midst of this joyful atmosphere, Cid barged in with an excited heart.
"Ahaha! You guys—if you want to live, hurry up and hand over everything you took earlier!"
As a power lurking in the shadows, he naturally wouldn't bother with sneak attacks.
Against people of this level, a sneak attack would just kill them outright—and then he wouldn't be able to test his new slime equipment.
And when it came to robbery, Cid didn't care about personal image.
What was there to say to a bunch of dead men?
As he finished speaking, he laughed wildly—his voice sounding even more Dark Faction than the Dark Faction itself.
Even the genuine members looked at each other in confusion, wondering if they'd run into a colleague.
Finally, the leader, Brandon, stepped forward.
"Kid, did you rob the wrong people? Which Dark Faction are you from?"
He didn't doubt Cid's identity at all—he took him for one of their own.
That shady outfit, that creepy laugh, daring to rob people in the Dungeon—if this wasn't one of theirs, he'd eat his words.
It wasn't strange that Cid had targeted them. They'd only recently learned that their enemies had completely given up searching the Dungeon, which was why they'd changed transport routes.
If someone didn't know that, mistaking the situation was understandable.
"Dark Faction? How rude. My name is Shadow. One who lurks within the shadows, hunting shadows."
Cid didn't bother explaining further and directly drew his slime-made sword.
"Shadow? You're that mad dog that's been biting at us nonstop? Heh, your luck's terrible—today I'm leading the team. Me, Blood Fist Brandon."
Brandon clenched his fists and approached Cid with a savage grin, fully confident.
In Orario, adventurers above Level 1 were called high-level adventurers.
Even the naming made it clear—Level 1 and Level 2 were completely different tiers.
Among high-level adventurers, Level 2 were third-tier, Level 3 and 4 were second-tier, and Level 5 and above were first-tier.
As a Level 3 powerhouse, Brandon was a core member of the Dark Faction.
In a small faction, he'd easily qualify as a familia captain.
Because of his absolute confidence, he even took the time to size Cid up.
"Brat, just because you wiped out a few of our bases, you think you're invincible?"
Brandon didn't plan to kill Cid—he wanted to crush his confidence instead.
Judging by his build and voice, the kid was clearly young.
Given his past feats, he was probably around Level 2.
Having that kind of strength at that age was already impressive.
As for his apparent hatred of the Dark Faction, that wasn't a problem.
Whether he joined the Dark Faction or not wasn't up to him.
After living through the worst day of his life and being forced to submit a pledge of loyalty, the kid would understand—
Only darkness could embrace everything.
The one destined to rule this world was darkness!
"You talk too much."
Cid extended his sword with magic and took Brandon's head off in a single slash.
The last thing Brandon left behind was a stiff smile.
In his final moment, he finally realized he'd kicked an iron plate.
"Did you see me swing? Even though my body didn't quite keep up… looks like you're a bit stronger than my sister was two years ago."
Cid sounded mildly surprised.
He'd only swung casually, but with his speed and strength, even Alise in her current state wouldn't have been able to dodge or withstand it.
At best, she'd barely survive by sacrificing an arm.
This guy was stronger than Alise had been two years ago—back then, she was already Level 3.
So… had he just one-shot someone who was actually somewhat strong?
Cid had robbed people before—more than once, twice, or even five or six times.
But in the past, the strongest he'd run into were at most Level 2.
Why were Level 3 adventurers transporting supplies now?
Were they carrying something especially valuable?
Realizing he might have struck gold, Cid's eyes lit up.
Meanwhile, seeing Cid's overwhelming display, the others turned and ran.
Tragic lovers? Not a chance—when disaster strikes, everyone saves themselves!
Some sprinted away, some shoved companions to the ground, others stood frozen and muttering.
"This has to be a joke… a Level 3 couldn't even take one hit?"
Cid found it absurd—no one dared step up to face him.
Just because the leader got one-shot, they'd completely lost their courage and reason.
What a pathetic bunch.
"Do you really think you can escape?"
The sword in Cid's hand reverted to slime form, stretching like a whip toward the fleeing enemies.
In just three seconds, every enemy's head hit the ground.
Only one person was left—the one standing closest to Cid.
"I'll give you a chance. You're the second strongest among them, right? Thirty seconds. If you can hurt me even once, I'll let you go."
Cid wanted to test the defensive performance of his equipment.
"Thirty seconds?"
Colton wanted to say he was being looked down on—but their captain hadn't even lasted a single move.
"Relax. During these thirty seconds, I won't dodge or counterattack."
Cid put his sword away and clasped his hands behind his back.
"Don't underestimate me!"
Colton slashed diagonally at Cid, so fast that the sword's shadow was almost invisible.
This strike embodied everything Colton had learned in his life.
Once, he'd been a fully licensed practitioner of the Dreamless Flow style, becoming a mainstay of his familia through swordsmanship alone.
Later, after setting his sights on a companion's wife, he joined the Dark Faction.
That night, he broke into their home, violated the woman in front of her husband—
Then, unsatisfied, violated the husband in front of the woman.
The reason he could act with impunity and remain unpunished to this day was this very sword skill!
Faced with the strike, Cid neither dodged nor countered, calmly waiting for it to land.
HP reduced by 0. The attack failed to break the slime's defense.
"H-How is that possible?!"
Ignoring his shock, Colton continued swinging his sword wildly.
If he couldn't kill the man in front of him, his life would end in thirty seconds.
No—less than thirty seconds!
He stopped caring about stamina, time, even breathing. Under the crushing pressure of imminent death, Colton's swordsmanship seemed to break through its limits.
But he couldn't feel happy—his terror only deepened.
His eyes told him every strike hit.
But the sensation was wrong—nothing like cutting flesh.
And Cid in front of him was completely unscathed.
"What a shame."
Cid drew his sword and cut off Colton's head.
"Time's up. You failed."