Chapter 40: Dungeon (14)
Because the boss had attacked them first, did his words suggest they were the weakest—or simply unworthy?
That single question left Silver Dash and his mage friend momentarily stunned, while the others rushed over to help.
Since the tank and Scarlet Tornado were already near Silver Dash, they naturally stepped forward without waiting for Blake's orders.
Blake dashed to the mage's side, ignoring the man's questioning look as he raised his katana in a middle-guard stance.
After blocking two slashes, the group rallied under Blake's direction, trusting his plan to handle this boss.
Still hovering in midair, the boss surveyed the room. He noticed Beatrix slipping back into Blake's shadow, unseen by her teammates. A moment later, he raised his transparent left hand, conjuring chunks of ice out of thin air.
Those chunks stretched and formed two ice statues, each resembling a younger version of The Winter General. They immediately charged the players.
Since these were only minions, the tank stayed put, though a tense hush fell behind him—Scarlet Tornado was the only one who moved to intercept them. Everyone else had different priorities.
"The swordsman," Blake said, breaking the silence in a flat voice.
Silver Dash clenched his fists, biting his lip. He didn't want to waste time on mere minions; he wanted to take down the boss himself. After all, that arrogant figure had looked down on him, and Silver Dash wanted to knock the smugness right off his face—or maybe even steal his ice sword.
But now Blake was telling him to go fight a minion… He felt snubbed by both sides.
"Why don't you fight them yourself?!" Silver Dash snapped.
Blake stared at him for a few moments, then replied, "I'm in charge here because you proved incompetent. There's no time. Go."
Only the mage showed any sign of displeasure at Blake's words. Everyone else kept silent, implying they sided with Blake. They had come too far to throw away this opportunity to defeat an epic boss over one person's pride—especially someone whose skills, in their eyes, didn't match his ambition.
Seething, Silver Dash spun around and took off alongside Scarlet Tornado to engage the statues. She tried to encourage him, but he ignored her words.
Meanwhile, the boss's lips curled faintly as he darted at Blake's group, his ice sword scraping the tank's shield. The tank attempted to hold him off with a taunt skill, but the boss glided right through him like the ghost he was. A frosty aura clung to the tank, freezing him for a few critical seconds.
Seeing this, the mage unleashed several fire bolts. The boss swatted them away like flies and pressed on.
That was when Blake intervened. He locked blades with the general's ice sword, channeling strength through his katana. Yet the boss slipped past his guard, thrusting at an impossible angle—his transparent, phantom-like form free from the constraints of flesh. He struck Blake squarely in the chest armor.
In this spectral state, the boss could wield a sword in ways no human could.
Blake's mouth curved into a grin, his eyes bright with excitement. High above him, Sol mirrored the same eager expression. This boss proved so formidable that both Blake and Sol were thrilled to fight him.
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Silver Dash directed all his pent-up frustration at the ice statue, deliberately sacrificing armor durability and health for more devastating strikes. His plan was working; he was close to destroying it. Yet satisfaction eluded him.
Behind him, the clash of steel between Blake and the true threat echoed through the chamber. Though Silver Dash couldn't see them, he pictured a cinematic duel worthy of a movie screen. His frustration spiked, convinced he could just as easily corner the boss with a few well-placed thrusts.
Suddenly, a frigid breeze swept past, followed by a dark blur. In the blink of an eye, the ice statue before him was beheaded. Silver Dash stood there in confusion, only to see that Blake and the boss had shifted to the center of the room, tearing up the surroundings as they fought.
By some twist of fate, Scarlet Tornado's foe lost its head around the same time. But Silver Dash hardly noticed.
All of his focus was on Blake and the boss, who battled as if they were born for this world—slashing and thrusting in what appeared to be chaotic abandon. Only skilled warriors would see the deeper precision behind their moves. Silver Dash wasn't one of them. He saw only lightning-fast blows that could spell death for either combatant at any moment.
It was the same spectacle that had enchanted audiences during the beta phase, when a select few livestreamed their adventures. Dazzling, exhilarating, and open to anyone ready to enter a realm of endless possibilities.
Still, for some, giving up even a single possibility was impossible. So, even after watching Blake's stunning show of skill—slicing off the boss's sword mid-battle and instantly storing it in his inventory, achieving exactly what Silver Dash had dreamed of—Silver Dash simply told himself that, if he had Blake's armor, katana, and Sol on his side, he could have done it too.
Weaponless now, the Winter General's ghost smiled and dipped his head toward Blake. "You have keen eyes," he said, his soul returning to its rightful place.
Where his ghost once floated now lay the Winter Sword—the third key to the dungeon. Blake scooped it up without hesitation.