1-Second Invincible Player in the Game

116. The Second Gate (2)

The name ‘Pheldira of Obsession’ comes as quite a surprise to many users.

At first glance, one might expect a typical stalker of a master, but the reality is different.

This is because she believes her existence as a fake is incomplete, and thus, she is solely obsessed with becoming ‘real.’

Yet, she does not wish to become the Pheldira of her former life.

To her, that would be mere imitation, a path that ultimately leads to being a fake.

This obsession manifests in her actions, as she engages in behaviors that the real Pheldira would never have done.

She does not cling to her master, the archmage, nor does she speak in the lighthearted manner she originally would not have.

It is the same when she fills her belly with expensive wine and rare delicacies in front of me.

These are acts that the living Pheldira would never have committed.

Thus, what can be said to be her goal of becoming ‘real’ is,

In essence, to be reborn.

—

Opening my eyes to the world for the first time, bestowed with a new name, I began my life in an unfamiliar realm, forging my own worldview.

There could be no fakes in that.

For it was the very essence of a true human life.

Yet, as is the fate of all villains, Peldi would ultimately fail.

This was destined to be her end, sensed by the watchful eyes of Belen.

But why, then, was she sitting before me, indulging in dessert?

* * *

On the club floor, Belen gripped her sword with a huff.

The situation had been relayed through the undead Hamendal.

As she gazed at the barrier, a sudden thought flickered—was it truly alright?

“What happens if we smash this?”

“Well, Professor Rockefeller says it’s fine. Even if it breaks, it’s only temporary; it will automatically restore itself…”

In that case, she felt reassured.

Belen gestured for the nearby students to step back, igniting flames along the blade.

Whoosh!

As the flames dwindled, the sword glowed a deep crimson, as if freshly pulled from a forge.

The heat was so intense that sweat trickled down the foreheads of the students who had retreated to a safe distance.

With her preparations complete, Belen slashed at the barrier multiple times.

Sizzle!

Wherever the blade met, the barrier melted away.

Securing a width just enough for a person to pass, Belen swiftly leaped through the opening.

True to Rockefeller’s words, the barrier was gradually returning to its original form.

Crash!

In an instant, the undead swarmed towards her, but with just a few strikes, they were reduced to dust.

Clang!

She sheathed her sword and turned to face the undead Hamendal.

“So, you want me to punish these little rascals for their wicked prank?”

“That’s not it. In truth, I believe there’s a deeper conspiracy at play.”

“A conspiracy?”

“An enchantment spread across the entire grounds. This is undoubtedly the work of a sorcerer. Yet, all the students admitted through donations are knights.”

—

Bellen grasped at once what he was asserting.

To swallow the stronghold whole and manipulate it at will was beyond the realm of what a student could achieve.

This could only mean that someone of a different caliber had led or supported such an endeavor.

“So, I just need to deal with this shadowy figure behind it and assist the students, is that it?”

“Indeed. Please, make haste.”

With a solemn expression, Bellen tightened his grip on the sword.

“Understood.”

Yet he did not relinquish the bottle of liquor held in his left hand.

“And if I do, what’s the reward?”

“…Has the Tenest family ever earned money in such a manner?”

* * *

Pheldira plunged her fork deep into the cream cake.

There had been various conversations up to that point, but the questions that slipped from her lips were primarily about Luon.

In truth, if it were about Luon’s memories, she would have already seen them through her abilities.

Yet, if she claimed to have questions for me, it was only natural they would come out like this.

“Why did you associate with Luon?”

A tale not from Luon’s perspective, but from my own view of him.

How was I to respond to that?

Naturally, I was not the real Hershel, so I had no answers.

But recalling Luon’s background, I could make some educated guesses.

“It’s simple. I was drawn to him because he resembled my own plight.”

His mother had also passed away at a young age.

The difference in Hershel’s case was that it was a death far removed from illness or accident.

Had it begun with Luon’s father, Aldeon Al Banas, being captivated by another woman?

“He has a stepmother, too.”

In noble circles, taking a concubine was quite common.

And it was equally common for a concubine, dissatisfied with her status, to conspire to assassinate the official mistress.

Moreover, it was said that Luon’s biological mother was not a particularly pleasant woman; given the family’s already tumultuous nature, their marriage must have been abysmal.

The lord’s subjects in the Banas territory joked that the head of the household had conspired with his concubine to orchestrate her death.

“His half-siblings remain cooped up in the house. He is a son who reminds his father of his former wife, and he must have endured all manner of scorn. How could he not catch my eye?”

Of course, Hershel had not approached this with any human emotions like empathy.

Most likely, he saw it merely as an amusing toy to play with.

Yet, did he not instinctively sense that it was of the same ilk?

“Well then, it’s my turn to ask.”

As my turn came, I turned to Peldira and inquired.

The question was about the dissonance I had been feeling since earlier.

“Why go to such lengths to help Luon? Now that the grimoire of the red jewel is in your hands, you should have seen it all through.”

Under normal circumstances, the deal with Luon would have ended with the binding of fate.

Thus, at this time, she should have been in the process of creating a body.

I needed to ascertain whether this was a compulsion from Luon or if Peldira had chosen to assist of her own volition.

“The grimoire of the red jewel? And you say it’s over? Your words suggest you know something, and that’s a bit unsettling.”

Peldira regarded me with a suspicious glare.

I crafted a plausible excuse.

“Actually, I met a thoughtform before you appeared, so I know. I’m aware of what you’re after.”

After all, the ‘Peldira of Loss’ had made an appearance before.

There was no way this woman could be unaware of that fact.

Perhaps it sounded convincing enough, for Peldira nodded.

“Well, fine. I’m here because I want to help Luon. I was asked to deal with you. Whether I do or not is entirely up to my judgment, though.”

Indeed, she was quite different from the ‘Peldira of Obsession’ in my memories.

From Luon’s perspective, seeing me would have likely been perceived as an unexpected twist that could ruin the game, so his decision wouldn’t be too strange.

After all, I had pretended to be a swordmaster and had even taken down Vermi; he must have thought he needed Peldira’s assistance.

However, the fact that she came here of her own will was another matter entirely.

“You came here because you were asked?”

Because she was fixated solely on being reborn.

Now that she held the grimoire of the red jewel, that must be her top priority, so why was she here?

I scrutinized Peldira closely, but she merely kept her lips tightly sealed.

“…That’s all for the questions.”

I could sense annoyance in her voice.

Was it finally time to begin…?

I traced the tattoo on my left wrist with my fingers.

However, Peldira merely licked the whipped cream from her lips and placed an additional order with the attendant.

“This is delicious, isn’t it? Bring me another one.”

I blinked in disbelief.

I had been prepared to unleash one of the few ultimate moves I possessed from Asares.

A move akin to a barrage in a shooting game that I could never replenish.

Considering my opponent even had the grimoire of the Crimson Jewel, I thought it was worth the expenditure…

“…Didn’t you come here to take care of me?”

As I narrowed my eyes and asked, Peldira replied with a feigned innocence.

“Well, that’s true, but I have no intention of fighting you.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Look out the window, and you’ll understand.”

She rose from her seat and approached the window.

My eyes widened slowly.

What caught my attention was the ground, cracked and split like a battlefield.

“…”

From there, a reptilian hand, as large as a soccer goal, suddenly protruded.

I turned to Peldira, bewildered.

“Does the dungeon’s guardian still look like a Bondragon these days?”

The Bondragon is a creature that ranks among the highest of the undead.

“Are you implying…?”

I asked, and Peldira chuckled softly.

“Perhaps you’re right in your assumption?”

During our dungeon practice, it was said that the guardian was modeled after the Bondragon.

This meant that the dungeon had seen the original, and where it had seen it was right above the dungeon itself.

“This was originally the domain of the Bondragon.”

The grounds of the Frost Heart.

“Think of it simply. I was the guide of the game. In truth, your friends each have their own foes to face, you know? Those subordinates that Luon carries around? Anyway, those guys. So, about that—”

I interrupted Peldira’s words as if it were someone else’s business, sitting back down and commanding the attendant.

“Bring me a cup of tea as well.”

“Are you even listening to me?”

No, I won’t listen.

“That’s your opponent. But don’t worry too much. The original was so powerful that I couldn’t perfectly replicate its strength. Compared to the real thing, it’s probably less than half the power. What do you think? Doesn’t this seem balanced enough?”

Either way, I still can’t face even the sentinel alone.

“Perhaps. But do you know?”

I sipped my tea, igniting the ‘embers of noble blood’ to gracefully evade this crisis.

Then I gazed into Pheldira’s eyes and set down my bowl.

“If I had wanted to, I could have killed you, and even Luon, long ago.”

“You? Me? We’ve only just met today, what nonsense.”

Pheldira’s expression was one of disbelief.

Yet, one must listen to the tale until the end.

“There were many opportunities. I know you’ve become a dove. I even crossed paths with Luon in the forbidden library’s corridor. There was ample chance to kill him then as well. But I didn’t. What does this mean?”

Perhaps it sounded somewhat reasonable, for Pheldira halted her fork before her lips.

“······.”

“I had no intention of going to Luon, and I still don’t mean to. So let’s clear away that useless chatter.”

Pheldira’s eyes widened.

Good, just a bit more trust here, and she’ll be completely swayed.

“Even though our relationship with Luon has soured recently, I do not wish for his death. As I mentioned earlier, he and I were in the same plight, on the same level, and just as I have changed, I believe he can change too.”

As I spoke in a serious tone, Pheldira blinked.

This is it.

Just as I was about to deliver my conclusion, Donathan interrupted the flow.

‘That cunning b*stard. Teasing that serpent’s tongue again.’

‘Don’t interfere. You don’t want to fight the Bondragon either, do you?’

‘Ahem······.’

There was a brief interruption, but I tried to calmly weave my schemes once more.

Yet, the devastating news that burst from Pheldira’s lips tossed my efforts into the trash.

“But what do we do? That can’t be canceled midway.”

What?

“Control?”

“There’s hardly any mana left from the grimoire of the Crimson Jewel. It’ll take some time to refill.”

“······.”

Oh, damn it.

I sprang up from my seat, intent on escaping the restaurant.

Wasting time doing nothing was not in my nature.

Who knows? My secret move might just work.

It was just as I hurriedly crossed the threshold of the restaurant that—

Peldira’s voice halted my steps.

“Hey, wait a moment.”

I turned my head slightly, glancing at Peldira.

“What is it?”

“Actually, I have a favor to ask. Will you hear me out?”

I was busy as hell, but what now?

As Peldira spoke, I listened, if only out of curiosity.

“…This is my personal wish.”

There was a certain desperation in Peldira’s expression.

Never in my life did I think I’d be receiving a request from an enemy.

It seemed my earlier words, meant to defuse the crisis, had planted some strange thoughts in her mind, but I was no fool.

“Of course, I’m not just asking you to agree. If you do, I’ll tell you where the staff I used when I was alive is hidden.”

A request from someone about to die—what could I do?

I was a kind-hearted person, after all.

“Well, I’ll think about it.”

I left the restaurant and ran at full speed.

“Hehehe.”

Peldira’s staff, huh?

If we’re talking about age, it might as well be an artifact, and being a grand sorcerer’s apprentice, it probably comes with some impressive perks.

* * *

As I strolled through the corridor, I passed the main gate of the fortress.

Thanks to the black band tattoo, the undead parted easily for me.

Walking toward the training grounds, I suddenly wondered how the others were faring and glanced up at the window.

By now, the mid-boss battle must have begun.

Not that I felt any worry about it.

—

For even if Alsis, Aiman, and Kurel had taken their potions, they were still woefully weak compared to the wandering instructor.

On the other hand, the playable characters had felt the weight of the wall they must overcome through the battles in the magic practice.

The difference between having experienced it and not was vast.

They would wonder why their blades felt so light compared to the instructor’s, and they would be astonished in another way at how they were weaker than the ancient beast conjured by the sorcerer.

Moreover, especially with Limberton, who had grown in ways beyond measure, Alsis would be easily dispatched.

So let us worry about me.

While they were content to hunt the usual mid-tier bosses, we were facing a colossal beast that belonged to the mid-scenario climax.

I stroked the tattoo on my wrist, fervently praying within.

…I trust only you.

* * *

In the corridor of the ninth floor, Alsis’s elongated form buzzed into motion.

“Eh?”

From head to tail, he slammed against the ceiling and was flung back.

Bang!

When he hit the ground, Asley looked down with a chilling gaze and remarked,

“How light.”

Alsis gritted his teeth.

“You b*stard!”

Wrapping his long body around Asley’s form, he tightened with a fierce grip.

Then, with his tail, he snatched the longsword that hung from the corpse’s waist.

Swoosh!

Alsis’s arms burst forth, piercing through the serpent’s leathery body.

Swish!

He drew the sword, aiming for Asley’s neck.

His arms were enveloped in a powerful aura, enhancing his strength.

In that moment, as he prepared to strike, the weight bore down on him, jabbing into his own torso.

Thud!

“Ugh!”

It was due to the shackles binding his arms.

Rix grinned, aiming his staff with a sly smile.

—

“Is it heavy, then? The instructor seems to move just fine regardless.”

Rix did not stop there; he conjured chains around Alcis’s sword.

The blade, tightly bound.

Clang!

As he pulled, the chain snagged on the sword’s cross guard, dragging it out like a stubborn tooth.

Asley seized the moment, wrapping his arm around Alcis’s neck.

“This is how you choke.”

Crack!

As Asley’s muscles swelled, Alcis enveloped himself in an aura of invulnerability.

Yet, it was a force he could not withstand.

A choked gasp escaped Alcis’s lips.

“Just die already.”

“Y-you fool. Have you ever seen a snake die from strangulation? Hoo!”

Alcis shed his skin, slipping free from Asley’s iron grip.

“Did you see that?”

It was then that Alcis mocked Asley.

Ping!

An arrow flashed and embedded itself in Alcis’s brow.

Thud!

Even wrapped in invulnerability, he was pierced by a mere arrow.

With fading eyes, Alcis gazed at the short man standing over him.

Consciousness slipped away, and he collapsed, lifeless, onto the floor.

Thud.

As the situation settled, Rix shouted urgently.

“This isn’t the time to be dawdling. I’m sorry, but you need to hide well, senior. I’ll come back for you once things are sorted. Now, Asley, Limberton, let’s head up. The others might have already arrived.”

Leading the way, Asley ascended the stairs to the tenth floor.

Upon reaching the corridor, they locked eyes with the Bellman squad.

They too bore the marks of battle on the tenth floor, blood pooling on the ground.

And at the center lay a monster, armored like a thick insect exoskeleton, sprawled in defeat.

It was unmistakably a child’s face.

Rix marveled inwardly.

‘I thought we were quite fast, but those over there are impressive too.’

Belman adjusted his glasses and approached Rix.

“It seems you all finished quickly. That’s fortunate. Let’s join up with the Riamon squad here. It’s better than fighting separately.”

“Did they go up first?”

“No, they’re still down. The barrier on the central stairs remains intact.”

Rix nodded.

If they had gone up first, the barrier would have been dispelled long ago.

For now, he sat on the corridor floor, waiting for the Riamon squad to arrive.

In the meantime, Limberton, perched on the window frame, opened his eyes wide in surprise.

“Hey, wait a moment. Look over there.”

His hand, pointing to the ground, trembled slightly.

Rix squinted, gazing at the training yard.

Then his eyes widened in shock.

Thud—

A massive bone erupted from the earth. No doubt about it.

“…Bondragon?”

He had already seen that head shape during dungeon practice.

It was modeled after the guardian, so there was no way he could mistake it.

Wiping the sweat from his temples, Rix shifted his thoughts.

“We need to run… We shouldn’t be heading to Luon right now; we must escape this place.”

The Bondragon was described in the ancient texts.

If the legendary beast unleashed its breath, the stronghold would be reduced to ashes.

Limberton swallowed hard.

Then, with wide eyes, he pointed again.

“Wait a second. Someone is…”

Someone was approaching the Bondragon, gesturing toward the horde of undead.