The thickets shook as if they were alive. At the ominous atmosphere, Uslann and his men flinched. Zeon kept his mana ready to unleash at any moment, staring into the forest. At that moment, something long burst through the bushes. Already prepared, Zeon didn’t panic—he fired a Fire Missile. The Fire Missile collided with the object, sending it crashing to the ground. Zeon’s eyes flickered as he confirmed what it was. And not just any snake—a snake with wings. About one meter in length, its body was covered in dark blue scales. Its vitality was so strong that even within the flames it didn’t burn easily, resisting the fire. Instead, it sprang up from the ground with flames still clinging to it, lunging at Uslann’s back. “A mere wretch dares….” Uslann swung his greatsword, cleaving the winged snake clean in half. The creature fell, writhing, in two pieces. But Uslann’s expression didn’t brighten. For such a small snake, the resistance had been considerable. His greatsword was a weapon forged by the master smiths of El Harun—its sharpness beyond compare. Even without mana, its sheer weight and edge could slice through massive stone pillars with ease. And yet, cutting that small snake had not been easy. That meant the creature’s body was unimaginably tough. Even split in two and burning, the snake still wasn’t dead—it continued to squirm. Uslann turned to Corin. “Have you ever seen a beast ?” “Not on Earth. But… I recall records in El Harun mentioning monsters of this kind.” Corin was sifting through his memory when— Dozens of winged snakes shot out of the brush at once. Fortunately, Uslann’s men had been braced and were ready to counterattack. Explosions and slicing sounds rang out at once. Scales, flesh, and bloody remnants of snakes rained down like a storm. Then, a single drop of snake blood splashed onto Shaping’s left arm. The spot it touched melted rapidly. He was a werewolf—his skin as tough as steel. Yet a single drop of snake blood had burned a gaping hole in his forearm. And the hole kept spreading wider. At this rate, not just his arm, but his shoulder would soon dissolve. The blood’s acidic nature was eating away at his flesh. Jupiro swung his sword, severing Shaping’s right forearm. Dempleton roared, seizing Jupiro by the collar in rage. He thought Jupiro had used the chaos to cut off his comrade’s arm. But Jupiro, caught by the collar, shouted, Dempleton turned—and saw the severed arm on the ground. The flesh melted completely, dissolving into blood. If Jupiro hadn’t acted, the acid would have spread from Shaping’s shoulder to his torso, killing him outright. Dempleton felt a chill run down his spine. He released Jupiro’s collar. Brushing off his wrinkled clothes, Jupiro spat, “Fuck! I may not like you lot, but I’m not rotten enough to use a crisis to cut a man down.” Dempleton muttered an apology. “What kind of blood is that toxic?” “Even a single drop on the body means death.” Shaping shuddered. He’d been lucky it landed on his arm—an arm that could be cut away. If it had hit his torso or head, there would have been no saving him. Uslann narrowed his eyes at the bushes. Thɪs chapter is updated by novel·fire.net The thickets continued to tremble. It was clear more winged snakes lurked within. “Derode… just what kind of dungeon did you open?” Uslann bit his lip until it bled. More winged snakes burst out from the brush. With their small wings spread wide, they shot forward like missiles. Uslann swung his greatsword, shouting, “Don’t let the blood touch you!” Uslann and his men unleashed skills they had kept hidden until now. Uslann’s greatsword and Jupiro’s blade shimmered with Aura Blades. Alonso thrust forth an Aura Spear. The others too summoned their techniques, striking the snakes down before they could close in. Blood and fragments sprayed everywhere. Some splattered toward Uslann and his men—but Aronia raised barriers, blocking every drop. But the danger was far from over. Rustle-rustle-rustle! The brush rippled like waves. A vast number of snakes were still moving inside. At last, Zeon, who had been watching silently, unleashed Fire Rain. A rain of fire poured from the sky, setting the forest ablaze. The hidden snakes were forced into the open. “There are that many?!” Winged snakes engulfed in flames filled the sky. Thousands—at a glance, it was clear. No one had expected so many to be lurking. The sight of the sky blotted out with their forms resembled a Red Locust swarm. It was impossible to block them all. Uslann’s party lacked large-scale skills. And Zeon’s fire, though devastating, still wasn’t enough—the snakes withstood it. Dark despair spread across every face. “White Phosphorus Flame!” At Zeon’s murmur, a white flame rose. Landing on the leading snake, it spread instantly—leaping from one to the next like wildfire. Though both were fire, the reaction was different. The snakes that had flown proudly with red flames clinging to them shrieked and plummeted as the white fire consumed them. The White Phosphorus Flame burned through their scales and flesh mercilessly. Once ignited, it could never be extinguished—the flame of death itself. The snakes had strong resistance to fire, but this blaze ignored even that. They writhed on the ground, bodies thrashing. But their struggles did not last. The White Phosphorus Flame cut off their breath. Even after their deaths, the fire didn’t fade. Only after reducing their bones to ash did it finally vanish. Uslann and his men felt a chill crawl over their skin. It was as if those hellish flames were clinging to their own bodies. The non-humans, who had resented Zeon most, trembled at the display. They had mocked him before, but they had never imagined he possessed such a terrifying skill. He’d been hiding this all along. They cursed him silently, though their faces betrayed nothing. Uslann stepped forward. “Remarkable! You saved us. I’ll never forget this debt.” Uslann nodded grimly at Zeon’s words. They had only just entered the dungeon. Who knew what awaited deeper within? He shouted to his men, “Advance! Stay alert. Corin—track him!” Corin sprang forward. He was stung with humiliation. Against the winged snakes, he had accomplished nothing. The fact that he had appeared helpless in front of a human he despised burned him. Leading the way, he pushed deeper into the dungeon. Thankfully, the outer forest had already been burned to the ground by Zeon’s flames. There were no more obstructions. Corin could move swiftly ahead. Suddenly, he called out to Uslann. “Have you found him?” “There’s an entrance here—leading underground.” “The gate is open. He must already be inside.” Corin pointed to a stone gate leading downward. Derode had gone through. Without hesitation, Uslann charged into the gate. His men and Zeon followed close behind. Inside was a stone corridor. Smooth walls were adorned with ancient murals. Uslann and his men ignored them, sprinting ahead. They had to stop Derode. Zeon, however, trailed at the rear, studying the paintings. “Is this the master of the chamber?” The meaning struck him immediately. The murals depicted the life of a woman—an elf, specifically a dark elf. She was born in a city that resembled Kurayan. Even there, dark elves were shunned. Rumors claimed their blood was tainted with that of demons. Even fellow elves despised them. This dark elf woman suffered the same fate. But she bore no resentment toward elves or humans. And she had a human lover. He loved her, never caring about her skin color. The murals made it clear. But midway, the story changed. The man left for war. The woman waited endlessly. Then—abruptly—the murals were destroyed. It was as if someone had deliberately erased the middle of the story. So nothing more could be known. Only one mural remained. The image depicted something monstrous. A woman’s upper body fused to a serpent’s lower half. A massive horn jutted from her forehead. Her long black hair flowed—but on closer look, the hair was thousands of snakes, flicking their tongues. The grotesque sight was no longer human. Beneath her snake’s body lay countless humans and non-humans crushed. “What happened here…?” But with the middle erased, the truth was lost. Abandoning the mystery, Zeon rushed forward. From the chamber ahead came Uslann’s furious voice. “You bastard! What have you done?!” “You son of a bitch!” And froze at the sight. “The boss… isn’t here?” The being that should have been present—the dungeon boss—was nowhere. Instead, only Derode remained. His lower body was gone, his torso blackened, breath ragged, surrounded by Uslann’s men. The wound where he’d been severed was rotting away rapidly. Uslann shouted at him, “What did you do? Where is the dungeon’s master?” “Heh… I freed it, with my own body as the offering.” “Freed it? You insane bastard!” For once, Uslann’s cold composure shattered—his voice thundered with rage. “Heh! It’s a shame I won’t live to see El Harun’s destruction with my own eyes… but by releasing the Black Queen, my wish will be fulfilled.” “The Black Queen?! You’re saying the master of this dungeon… is truly the Black Queen?” Uslann’s face turned pale. Derode grinned at his fear. “Heh… yes. That’s what I wanted to see. The sight of El Harun weeping blood.”