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Chapter 303: Childe's Provocation
Even though nearly five years had passed, that hellish scene remained vividly etched in Ryuu's mind.
Companions severed by claws, torn apart alive, devoured by the monster…
Their screams, their wails of agony, the sheer despair in their eyes just before they died… It all echoed endlessly in her mind, haunting her every waking moment.
That terror—the despair of watching everything she cherished be destroyed right before her eyes—had long ago formed an indelible scar and an inescapable psychological trauma.
But...
When she saw him again, when she laid eyes on the Evilus enemy who should have been dead, the overwhelming tide of hatred and bloodlust erupted like a volcano, instantly suppressing the bone-deep terror.
No. She couldn't run.
She absolutely couldn't run.
Ryuu's eyes became incredibly resolute in an instant, carrying a trace of crazed determination.
No matter what, even if she died in this cold, damp Dungeon, she had to find those Evilus bastards again.
Even if she died, she would kill them all. Wipe them completely clean.
She didn't care what happened to her. Her own life had lost its value long ago. Only those from Evilus who destroyed everything she loved absolutely had to die.
Since Jura was still alive and had appeared in the Dungeon, it meant he definitely wasn't alone.
The remnants of Evilus had to be hiding somewhere on these floors.
That was why she had forcefully suppressed the urge to charge out and exact her revenge right then and there. She needed to follow the trail to its source. She had to locate the nest where those sewer rats were hiding.
And then, she would wipe them from the face of this world. Completely and thoroughly. Nest and all.
Ryuu took a deep breath, forcing all her surging emotions back into the depths of her heart. Her fury-filled eyes returned to an ice-cold calm.
Like a master hunter, she silently melted into the shadows, tracking the faint trail Jura had left behind, keeping a perfect distance as she followed.
Twenty-Eighth Floor.
This was one of the few safe zones in the Dungeon, known as the Underground Garden.
In stark contrast to the oppressive caves of the Upper Floors and the damp labyrinths of the Middle Floors, this was a massive, unimaginably expansive open space.
Soft green grass carpeted the flat ground, dotted with various unknown, softly glowing exotic flowers, forming a dreamlike floral field. The air was filled with a faint floral scent and the rich smell of earth, making one almost forget they were deep within the perilous Dungeon.
In this tranquil, sprawling Underground Garden, massive rock pillars dozens of meters high stood like the gravestones of ancient giants, reaching up toward the dim, unseen ceiling.
At this moment, atop one of the tallest rock pillars, a figure stood looking utterly bored.
He had fluffy, messy orange hair. His deep, ocean-blue eyes constantly flickered with a restless light.
He had already deactivated his menacing Foul Legacy state, changing back into his lightweight gray combat uniform. With his hands on his hips, he let out an unceremonious, massive yawn.
"Sigh… They actually managed to run away."
Tartaglia muttered to himself in sheer exasperation.
"Well, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I didn't expect this place to be so fragile. The floor collapsed way too easily."
He awkwardly scratched the back of his head.
Recalling the battle from just moments ago, he still felt a lingering sense of unfulfillment. He had been having the time of his life. He was so hyped up he had even activated Foul Legacy and unleashed his ultimate trump card, fully prepared to enjoy a glorious, blood-pumping deathmatch.
But who could have known the Dungeon's "floor" couldn't take a hit?
Just from the clash of their ultimate attacks, the entire ground of the twenty-seventh floor had violently caved in, creating a massive hole that dropped straight down into the safe zone below.
And that little guy, Finn, had decisively used the chaos to lead his comrades and make a clean getaway.
Now look at the mess.
This Underground Garden was as vast as a miniature world, littered with hiding spots among the rock pillars and flower fields. Trying to find someone in a place like this was harder than finding a needle in a haystack.
The sheer anticlimax left him restless and incredibly frustrated. It was like carefully setting up a magnificent fireworks display, only for a torrential downpour to start the second the fuse was lit.
Seeking some form of entertainment, his gaze drifted to another towering pillar nearby.
Another figure stood there.
It was a young man with snow-white hair, standing silently at the edge of the pillar with his back turned. He let the breeze blowing down from the upper floor ruffle his soft hair.
"Hey, buddy."
Childe grinned, flashing a bright, battle-hungry smile.
"Even though we've never actually met, for some reason… you give me a really familiar vibe."
"So, what do you say? It's pretty boring right now anyway. Wanna… fight?"
"I can tell. You're really strong."
However, faced with this blatantly provocative invitation, the "Aiden" standing there acted as if he hadn't heard a thing. He kept his eyes closed, utterly unresponsive.
He was like a lifeless statue, perfectly blended into the silence of the Underground Garden.
"Sigh… How boring."
Seeing zero reaction, Childe's smile fell. He shrugged helplessly.
"I mean, sure, I'm a 'chess piece' and a 'puppet' too, but you're way further gone than I am. You don't even have a shred of self-awareness. What a buzzkill."
This wasn't the first time he had tried striking up a conversation with this "Aiden." But no matter what he said or how much he provoked him, the boy remained locked in silence, acting exactly like a pre-programmed doll capable only of executing orders.
Over time, Childe had figured it out. This "Aiden" was different from him.
While this wasn't Childe's true body either, the whole experience felt like a long, incredibly realistic dream. His every move was being driven by the invisible "will of the Dungeon," forcing him to complete tasks he had zero interest in.
But that didn't matter.
As long as there was a fight, he was happy. Getting to cross blades with overwhelmingly powerful opponents from another world was a once-in-a-lifetime, blood-boiling thrill. Compared to that, being forced to follow a few orders was an acceptable trade-off.
But this "Aiden" seemed to have been stripped of even the capacity to enjoy battle.
It made Childe, a fellow "chess piece," feel both bored and a subtle twinge of pity.
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