"So… golem-type enemies, huh."
Gapar drew his Sword, the blade glowing faintly like scattered starlight.
"Definitely a mage's style. Those guys love tinkering with junk like this."
They were nothing but soulless objects. How could things like this possibly match his battle-hardened body?
He tightened his grip on the Sword. He could have wiped out the enemies instantly, but after a mont's thought, he decided the sword's flashy battle-skill effects suited a magic classroom perfectly.
So he chose to eliminate the puppet soldiers using his battle skills.
I should start carrying a recording stone, he thought. I could film my handso fighting and keep it as a souvenir.
The puppet soldier holding a spear rushed forward, already right in front of him. The sharp spear thrust out fiercely.
For Gapar, it was far too slow.
With a casual swing, he cut both puppet and spear cleanly in half.
The azure slash continued past it, slicing the monster behind it in two as well. The visual effect was quite pleasing.
The only regret was that he had deliberately held back to enjoy himself longer. Otherwise, that single strike would have cleared the field.
"As always, golems are sluggish," he said, sidestepping another slash. "Why do mages always research these things? They'd be better off developing elental creatures."
The Sword's skill activated again, beautiful sword-light flashing continuously among the puppet soldiers.
One puppet soldier, cut in half but still twitching, tried a sneak attack. Just as its straight sword was about to hit Gapar, his figure exploded into black smoke and instantly reappeared midair.
This move really never got old. It could even phase him briefly to dodge attacks—perfect for thrill-seekers.
He slashed downward, splitting the puppet soldier vertically in two, and activated the move again.
But this ti, sothing went wrong.
As he leapt high into the air, before he could adjust into a more dramatic "mountain-splitting strike" pose, he noticed sothing strange behind the lee puppet soldiers.
The ones holding repeating crossbows were twitching like malfunctioning machines.
It broke before I even attacked?
Gapar shook his head. Looks like the Sein Dungeon wasn't perfect after all. Even it had trash-tier monsters.
But in the next instant, the puppet soldiers suddenly began spinning wildly at high speed. A human would die instantly trying that—but puppets didn't care.
"Da-da-da-da—!"
Along with the spinning ca the rattling of their rapid-fire crossbows.
A storm of arrows burst out in every direction, forming a 360-degree barrage with no blind spots.
Completely insane.
Repeating-crossbow puppet soldiers—nicknad Elden Mini Bow!
Gapar had to adjust midair to block arrows. Getting shot while airborne was miserable.
He thought about grabbing puppet soldiers as shields after landing—but then rembered their hollow bodies couldn't block arrows at all.
Damn you, Sein Dungeon! Was this part of your plan too?!
When he landed, the nearest puppet soldiers started spinning as well.
Their bizarre poses and insane attack speed turned the scene into utter chaos. Even Buddha would probably close his eyes at such a sight.
Reduce the attack speed of Bow and the Ring a bit, split it into dozens of pieces—that's what these puppet soldiers felt like.
The mont Gapar landed—no, even before his feet touched the ground—he was dragged into the whirlwind.
Clang-clang-clang!
The corridor echoed with nonstop tal strikes.
Yes, Gapar could still parry even in this situation.
His sword moved so fast that even afterimages couldn't be seen. Without his powerful physique, he'd already be a punching bag.
When danger struck, people instinctively fell back on their most familiar fighting style. His was parrying.
He clashed with the puppet soldiers for two seconds before snapping back to his senses.
His face twisted—not from fear, but from heartache for his Sword.
Damn it, what mage designed these puppet soldiers?! In just a few seconds, I can feel the blade losing sharpness! It might snap at any mont!
He absolutely didn't want that. Even if he got hurt, he had to protect the sword.
So—
"Whoosh!"
He threw the weapon high into the air, tore off his loose shirt to reveal his muscular body, and prepared to dismantle these hateful things with his bare hands.
Of the hundred martial arts, this one is called abandoning formalities.
However…
Just as he was about to fight barehanded, the puppet soldiers all stopped at once.
The whirlwind lasted only a short ti—ending the mont he abandoned formalities.
"…."
His raised arms hung awkwardly in midair.
It felt like gathering a million horsepower for a final punch—only for the enemy to suddenly commit suicide.
Punching cotton. Power with nowhere to go.
Monts later, Gapar stepped over the scattered puppet fragnts and entered the other magic classrooms.
If hidden doors existed, striking the walls should reveal them.
He picked up a puppet's sword and unleashed a 360-degree circular slash, sweeping every corner of the classroom.
If there was a chanism, it would appear imdiately.
It did.
Glintstone shards rained from the ceiling.
A small fla tornado appeared in the upper-left corner.
A crackling lightning orb ford in the lower-left.
From the right corners, blue vines shot out to entangle him—mixed with poison.
Hidden traps really were inside the classroom, and his no-blind-spot attack triggered them all at once.
Compared to the puppet whirlwind earlier, this was a true hellscape.
When Gapar finally walked out, his upper clothes were gone, and his once-dashing gray hair now bore a stylish black scorch mark.
He would never again say the Sein Dungeon lacked creativity. Its traps were authentically disgusting.
It had clearly predicted adventurers would search for hidden doors—and set hidden traps triggered the sa way.
And if two or more traps activated, all traps fired together.
Designed specifically to counter people like Gapar.
Of course, if soone bombarded the room from outside with magic, traps wouldn't matter.
But there were punishnts for that too.
"Clack… clack…"
The mont Gapar stepped out, more puppet soldiers dropped from the ceiling.
This ti he didn't wait. He dismantled them instantly.
Surely puppet drops wouldn't trigger after every classroom… right?
Actually, no.
When he knocked around another classroom, more puppets spawned. Their respawn was ti-based.
If he couldn't find a way out, monsters would harass him endlessly until he ran out of resources.
When puppet soldiers dropped, the ceiling opened. Gapar tried jumping up, but above was only white mist.
Touching it instantly teleported him back near the lift.
So the ceiling was filled with teleportation spells?
Even cutting it open didn't remove the mist. The dungeon blocked shortcuts completely.
After endless traps and monsters—like an endless August—he finally struck a corner that opened a hidden door.
"When I get out, I'm publishing this stupid door's location," he muttered darkly as he entered.
Of course, hidden door locations were random.
Behind it was the classroom that couldn't be opened earlier. A glowing light appeared on the podium.
At that mont, he understood.
Only by entering through the hidden door—the dungeon-approved thod—could he obtain the reward.
Break the door by force, and you get nothing.
[Transfer Certificate]
[To escape their natural enemy, mages built an otherworldly space outside reality. The Transfer Certificate is required to enter it. Infuse magic to reach the mages' world.]
[They trapped orthodox magic in the past, praying for their enemy's disappearance.]
[For single use only. The mages do not wish many to leave.]
Was their "natural enemy" that mysterious "thing"?
What frightened the mages so much?
Gapar infused his ager magic into the certificate. His figure flickered.
In an instant, the scene changed.
An identical corridor—but this ti it had an end. Two robed figures wearing stone-like helts stood there holding staffs. Mages, probably.
More excitingly, paths branched left and right. No more loops.
Had he finally reached a normal area?
"Ah… please stop waving that terrible force… it is a blasphemous thing even gods despise…"
A hoarse whisper sounded near his ear. A spirit clung behind him, repeating that one line.
Gapar wasn't a scholar. He just morized it.
The voice alerted the mages ahead, so he slipped into a nearby classroom to observe first.
[New student? Co here. Let assign you a ntor.]
A lazy voice appeared directly in his mind. Telepathy?
On the podium sat a pointed hat, its folds forming a face.
[Don't want a ntor? Planning to self-study?]
"…Who are you?"
[I am the Sorting Hat. I assign ntors. Now put on.]
"What's a ntor?" Gapar asked curiously.
[A ntor is a ntor. You will learn and inherit their magic—even beco them.]
Now that sounded exciting. Fearless as always, he put on the hat.
The hat muttered nas:
[Logan… Aldia… Sellen… Ranni… Radahn…]
[Frieren… Ainz Ooal Gown… Kinomoto Sakura… Aoko Aozaki…]
One na after another. Gapar's palms grew sweaty.
He felt nervous—like when a sword instructor chose students in childhood.
[Ah-ha. I've found the best ntor for you.]
He sat up straight.
[Your ntor is Gandalf!]
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