Chapter 27: Speedrun!!

Chapter 27: Chapter 27: Speedrun!!

Deep inside the dungeon, the final boss room.

A massive ice gate slowly creaked open.

A wave of frigid air poured out from behind it, so cold that even breathing felt like swallowing shards of ice.

At the center of the chamber lay a gigantic, ice-blue bear atop a raised platform. It stood nearly ten meters tall, its enormous body covered in thick, crystalline armor. Rows of translucent ice spikes grew along its back, and every breath it released sent swirling clouds of frost across the chamber.

A system notification appeared before Nathaniel Beaumont.

[Frost Tyrant]

[Level: 50]

[HP: 1,200,000]

[Skills: Ice Roar, Frost Armor Reflection, Extreme Cold Recovery]

[Hell Difficulty Special Mechanism: When HP drops below 50%, recovers 5% of maximum HP per second for 20 seconds]

The Frost Tyrant slowly opened its eyes.

Its scarlet pupils immediately locked onto Nathaniel.

Then it roared.

"ROOOAAAR!"

The entire chamber shook violently.

Massive ice shards broke loose from the ceiling, crashing into the floor and exploding into countless fragments. The sound echoed through the chamber, accompanied by a violent surge of freezing air.

Against an ordinary party, this boss would have been a nightmare.

First, they would need to break through its Frost Armor. Then they would have to unleash enough burst damage to overcome its terrifying recovery mechanism. Once its HP dropped below fifty percent, every passing second would restore sixty thousand HP.

If their damage output wasn’t sufficient, all their efforts would be undone before they could finish the fight.

But Nathaniel wasn’t an ordinary challenger.

He glanced at the enormous bear, then at the shadows gathered around his feet.

His expression remained indifferent.

"Kill."

The instant the command left his mouth, the shadows erupted.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Ten Shadow Soldiers shot forward simultaneously, their black armor reflecting the faint blue glow of the ice chamber.

But they weren’t the only ones moving.

More silhouettes emerged from Nathaniel’s shadow, one after another, until twenty Shadow Soldiers stood ready to join the assault.

The Frost Tyrant had only just begun rising from its platform when thirty Shadow Soldiers surrounded it.

The enormous bear lifted one massive paw, preparing to crush the intruders.

It never got the chance.

The first Shadow Soldiers reached its legs, driving their fists into the thick armor. Others attacked its sides, shoulders, and back, their coordinated movements leaving almost no room for the boss to retaliate.

Fists. Elbows. Knee strikes. Crushing stomps.

No elaborate formations.

No dazzling display of magic.

Only overwhelming physical force, delivered from every direction.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

The Frost Tyrant’s body lurched under the relentless assault.

Its HP bar began to plummet.

Ninety percent.

Seventy percent.

Fifty percent.

The crystalline spikes along its back suddenly blazed with icy light.

[Frost Tyrant triggers Extreme Cold Recovery!]

A layer of frost spread across the chamber as the boss activated its special mechanism. Its wounds began closing at an astonishing speed, and its HP started recovering.

Under normal circumstances, this would have been the turning point of the battle.

For Nathaniel, it was barely worth noticing.

"More."

His voice was quiet.

The shadows beneath his feet rippled again.

Another wave of Shadow Soldiers emerged, their black-armored figures filling the spaces around the boss. The original thirty continued attacking without pause, while the reinforcements joined the assault from every available angle.

The Frost Tyrant tried to roar.

A Shadow Soldier struck its jaw.

It attempted to swing its paw.

Three others hammered its arm aside.

The boss struggled to regain its footing, but the relentless attacks kept forcing its enormous body backward.

Its HP continued falling despite the recovery effect.

Forty percent.

Thirty percent.

Twenty percent.

The Frost Tyrant’s scarlet eyes widened. It unleashed a furious roar, sending freezing air across the chamber in a desperate attempt to drive its attackers away.

The Shadow Soldiers barely reacted.

Their master had given them one command.

Kill.

And they intended to carry it out.

BOOOOOOM!

A final coordinated assault struck the Frost Tyrant from every direction.

Its enormous body crashed against the icy platform. Cracks spread through the crystalline armor covering its head, and the last of its HP vanished.

The Frost Tyrant’s eyes dimmed.

Its massive body collapsed onto the frozen ground.

[Frost Tyrant killed!]

[Experience gained: +80,000]

[Frost Cave cleared: Hell Difficulty]

[Clear Rating: SSS]

[Level Up!]

[Current Level: 16]

[Level Up!]

[Current Level: 17]

The notifications appeared one after another.

Nathaniel glanced at his status interface.

The world’s unfair restrictions had reduced his experience gains again, forcing him to climb through the levels one step at a time. Even so, rising from Level 13 to Level 17 in roughly half an hour was a result worth accepting.

His gaze moved toward the fallen boss.

Thirty soldiers had been more than enough to overwhelm it, and the additional reinforcements had made its recovery mechanism practically meaningless.

He hadn’t needed a complicated strategy.

He had simply brought more power than the boss could handle.

Nathaniel recalled the Shadow Soldiers surrounding the corpse. Their black-armored figures dissolved into darkness, returning to the shadow beneath his feet.

The chamber became quiet again.

Only the scattered equipment and skill books remained as evidence of the battle.

Nathaniel inspected the rewards briefly.

Unfortunately, most of the equipment belonged to other classes. The skill books were equally unsuitable for his God of Shadows class.

He had no intention of wasting time on items he couldn’t use, so he collected everything into his inventory for later consideration.

Then he walked toward the exit portal.

For Nathaniel, the Hell-difficulty Frost Cave had been little more than a warm-up.

The real reason he had entered the dungeon was to grow stronger.

And he had no intention of stopping here.

...

Westmere Professional Center, Dungeon Hall

Near the entrance to the Frost Cave, Administrator Lucas Bennett was leaning back in his chair, chatting with a friend over his communicator.

His shift had been relatively peaceful so far.

Then, without warning, the ice-blue portal began to glow.

A figure stepped out.

Nathaniel Beaumont.

His clothes were spotless. His breathing was steady, and his expression was as calm as ever. Not even a trace of frost clung to his hair.

Lucas blinked.

He glanced at the time displayed on the wall, then looked back at Nathaniel.

Only about half an hour had passed.

His first thought was that the young man had failed.

After all, the Frost Cave on Hell difficulty was a nightmare even for experienced professionals. A Level 13 challenger attempting it alone was practically asking for trouble.

Still, surviving inside for nearly half an hour was already impressive.

Lucas immediately stood and approached him.

"Student Beaumont, don’t be discouraged. It’s normal to fail your first attempt at Hell difficulty."

He offered a reassuring smile.

"The Frost Cave’s mechanics are particularly nasty. The recovery effect of the final boss can make the fight nearly impossible if your damage output isn’t high enough. The fact that you lasted half an hour is already..."

His voice trailed off.

The clear-status display beside the portal suddenly vibrated.

A brilliant purple-gold light flashed across its surface.

Then a notification appeared.

[Frost Cave: Hell Difficulty]

[Clearer: Nathaniel Beaumont]

[Number of Participants: 1]

[Clear Time: 29 minutes and 48 seconds]

[Final Rating: SSS]

Silence.

Lucas stared at the display.

He rubbed his eyes.

Then he stared again.

The information hadn’t changed.

"You’re kidding me..."

His mouth fell open.

"YOU CLEARED IT?!"

His shout echoed throughout the dungeon hall, drawing startled looks from several nearby professionals.

"Twenty-nine minutes and forty-eight seconds? Solo? On Hell difficulty? With an SSS rating?"

Lucas looked at Nathaniel as though he had just watched someone punch a hole through the sky.

This wasn’t merely an impressive result.

It was absurd.

A Level 13 student had entered a dungeon designed for a party of four, defeated a Level 50 boss with 1.2 million HP, and returned without a scratch.

What kind of monster was standing in front of him?

Nathaniel, meanwhile, seemed completely unconcerned by Lucas’s reaction.

He stepped forward and patted the administrator on the shoulder.

"Help me open the next dungeon."

Lucas froze.

"...The next dungeon?"

"Yes. One with an entry requirement of Level 17. Hell difficulty."

Lucas’s expression became complicated.

Half an hour earlier, he might have tried to talk Nathaniel out of such a reckless decision.

Now?

What was he supposed to say?

The young man had just demolished the Frost Cave’s Hell difficulty and earned the highest possible rating. Any advice about ordinary dungeon safety would probably sound ridiculous coming from someone who had never done anything remotely similar.

Lucas hurriedly opened the dungeon list.

His fingers trembled slightly as he searched for a suitable destination.

"R-Right. Give me a moment."

A new panel appeared.

[Dungeon: Lava Ruins]

[Entry Level: 17–20]

[Recommended Party Size: 5]

[Dungeon Attribute: Fire]

[Selectable Difficulty: Simple, Normal, Elite, Hard, Nightmare, Hell]

Lucas took a deep breath before confirming the selection.

"The Lava Ruins on Hell difficulty has been opened for you."

Nathaniel nodded.

"Thanks."

He walked toward the newly activated portal without another word.

The portal swallowed his figure, leaving Lucas staring after him.

For several seconds, the administrator didn’t move.

Then reality finally caught up with him.

He immediately opened his communicator and contacted Captain Adrian Cross, the officer who had previously provided his contact information.

The call connected.

Lucas spoke before the other man could say anything.

"Captain Cross! Something unbelievable just happened!"

...

Westmere City Lord’s Mansion

Inside the main conference room, the atmosphere was grim.

A long table stretched across the center of the chamber. Several senior officials sat around it, their faces weighed down by the same terrible news.

At the head of the table sat the City Lord of Westmere.

The middle-aged man folded his hands and spoke in a heavy voice.

"The Three Pillars have all fallen in battle."

No one interrupted him.

"Westmere no longer has any confirmed top-tier guardians capable of filling their positions."

He paused, his expression growing darker.

"Once this news becomes public, the consequences will be unimaginable."

Captain Adrian Cross sat among the officials, his uniform immaculate and his expression serious.

He nodded.

"The Lion Syndicate’s previous attack on Westmere No. 1 Academy shows that hostile organizations have been watching our city for some time."

He continued, "With the Three Pillars gone, illegal organizations and Abyss cults may see this as an opportunity. We should prepare for further attacks."

The City Lord rubbed his temples.

"We need to request emergency support from the provincial authorities as soon as possible."

He looked around the table.

"At the very least, we need an expert above Level 300 stationed in Westmere until a permanent replacement can be arranged."

Adrian considered the request before answering.

"The provincial authorities may not be able to send someone immediately. Abyss Rifts have been appearing with increasing frequency, and cities across the Alliance are already struggling to maintain sufficient high-level combat strength."

He paused.

"Westmere has lost all three of its strongest guardians at once. Replacing them will be difficult."

The conference room fell silent.

A city without a powerful guardian was like a fortress with its outer walls torn down. Even if its ordinary defenses remained intact, every hostile force nearby would begin calculating the cost of an attack.

Westmere had become vulnerable.

Everyone at the table understood what that meant.

Just then, Adrian’s communicator vibrated.

He glanced at the screen.

Lucas Bennett, Westmere Professional Center.

Adrian frowned.

Why was the dungeon administrator calling him during an emergency meeting?

Had something happened to Nathaniel?

He answered immediately.

"Cross speaking. What’s the matter?"

On the other end, Lucas sounded unusually breathless.

"Captain Cross, Student Beaumont just came out of the Frost Cave!"

Adrian’s expression shifted slightly.

"He came out already?"

He glanced at the time.

"Was he injured?"

"No!"

Lucas swallowed.

"That’s the thing, Captain. He isn’t injured at all."

Adrian straightened in his seat.

"Then what happened?"

Lucas took a deep breath.

"He cleared it."

For a moment, Adrian didn’t respond.

"...Cleared what?"

"The Frost Cave. Hell difficulty. Solo."

The room around Adrian seemed to grow quieter.

Lucas continued, his voice still trembling with disbelief.

"His final rating was SSS."

Adrian’s eyes narrowed.

"How long did it take?"

"Twenty-nine minutes and forty-eight seconds."

The words hung in the air.

Adrian slowly lowered his communicator from his ear.

Around the table, several officials noticed the sudden change in his expression.

The City Lord looked directly at him.

"Captain Cross? What happened?"

Adrian remained silent for another moment.

Then he looked around the conference room.

"Something unexpected has just happened at the Westmere Professional Center."

He paused.

"Nathaniel Beaumont has solo-cleared the Frost Cave on Hell difficulty in less than thirty minutes, earning an SSS rating."

The conference room erupted into stunned silence.

And for the first time since the news of the Three Pillars’ deaths had arrived, every person in the room was thinking about the same question.

Just how far could that young man go?