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Now reading: Chapter 374 - 274: The Master Who Was Driven to Collapse by from Who Designed This Underworld Dungeon?, a Adventure novel by Moonlit Penglai Princess.

Before the arrow pierced his knee, Kent was also an adventurer.

Though rely diocre in strength, he could at least make a living. However, after he was hit by an arrow cursed with magic, his path to improvent was completely cut off.

Abandoned by his teammates, shunned by friends, and his lover stolen by another, he reflected deeply and had an epiphany, no longer relying on brute strength.

Instead, he started studying various strategy books, arming his mind, and turned himself into a walking dungeon encyclopedia. It was from then on that he truly beca famous, embarking on a legendary life as a Dungeon Exploration Master.

Why was he recalling these things now? Because after decades without wielding a sword, he was now brandishing weapons on the battlefield, killing enemies with delight.

"Ugh oh oh——"

He exclaid while watching his body dance in the midst of the battlefield; every swing brought forth the blood and screams of enemies, turning him into a high-efficiency killing machine!

And there were thousands more like him! So many Casas warriors gathered that one couldn’t help but feel worried for their enemies.

The enemies wore unknown armor, making it impossible to discern which era or country their soldiers were from, but that didn’t matter anymore.

"Hahaha!" Kent suddenly laughed. Did he think he had stopped wielding the sword out of choice? No, it was because his body wouldn’t allow it!

Feeling the joy of mowing down enemies, his once dormant emotions were reignited.

No matter what this strange Painting World wanted, at this mont, what he wanted to do was savor the thrill of slaughter and indulge himself fully!

In virtually an instant, he had already imrsed himself among the Casas warriors, shouting for the Overlord while slashing at the enemies.

The scenes shifted repeatedly; the battlefield and the faces of the enemies kept changing, showing that the Casas Legion had experienced countless wars, their iron hooves trampling on every nation.

Kent mingled with his comrades, his ntal state unstable, eyes bloodshot, clearly addicted to the killing.

No matter what wars they went through, the Casas Legion was always victorious, combining cunning swordsmanship and evil sorcery to terrify all enemies.

The murderous aura of the battlefield could indeed affect one’s spirit. He witnessed the atrocities of Casas along the way, seeing dead companions resurrected by forbidden Abyssal powers, watching...

Yet, strangely, no such thoughts arose in Kent’s mind this ti, despite his earlier aversion to the deeds of Overlord Vonier.

He had lost track of how many wars he had participated in, but as long as he could enjoy the killing, it didn’t matter if he could not leave!

Casas grew more dreadful by the day, obliterating nation after nation. When Vonier donned the crown symbolic of his overlordship, just as Casas reached its peak, Kent, now reincarnated as a skeleton, suddenly learned of a new enemy approaching.

Sothing called the Undead Team? Why did that na sound so familiar, as if he had heard of them sowhere?

Prolonged slaughter had blurred his mory, but he didn’t care. Those guys would soon fall under the Casas iron fist again!

Kent marched with the army and saw the so-called Undead Team on the battlefield. It was a legion no less impressive than theirs, comprising various units like Gollum and mages. The figures wearing pointed hats at the rear exuded a particularly oppressive aura.

Kent inexplicably felt a foreboding, sensing that this enemy was different from any before, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

Never mind, never mind, let the killing begin!

The two armies clashed in a grand and overwhelming battle. Among them, Kent was as insignificant as a grain of sand. Upon the first exchange, he sensed that this enemy was different, stronger than any he had faced before, and he could no longer mow them down as before.

This won’t do; if he couldn’t mow them down, where would he get his thrill!?

So, he imdiately targeted those pointed-hat figures, recognizing them as elites who, if defeated, would greatly boost Casas’ morale!

"Take this, die!"

He leaped high, slashing at a Fran Undead Team mber with his great sword.

A flash of white light blinded him. When he reopened his eyes, he found...

"Hey, why haven’t they started fighting yet?"

Ti had reverted to the mont the two armies faced off.

"What just happened? I only saw a flash of light," he scratched his head in confusion. Never mind, keep on killing!

His target remained the Fran Undead Team!

A few minutes later.

"Why are we back to this mont again?"

A few minutes later.

"Back again?"

A few seconds later.

"Still this!?"

Even a fool would have reacted by now. Finally, Kent, whose mind had been clouded by bloodlust, realized it.

"Did they kill just now?" This last ti, he finally saw the Undead Team make a move, a casual punch smashing his skull to pieces, more powerful than an explosive punch!

This ant he had already died four tis!

"This isn’t right," he doubted himself, "Our Casas is clearly so strong, why can’t we fend off the Undead Team?"

As the war horn sounded again, this ti he wised up, blending into the crowd, hesitating to advance, and observing the Undead Team. Finally, he clearly saw them make their move.

The Fran Greatsword swung casually, turning several Casas warriors into shattered bones on the spot. Swings upon swings covered the ground with corpses!

Kent was stunned.

If one mber was this strong, then the entire Undead Team... was despairingly formidable.

The Casas Legion scattered like paper before the Undead Team, disintegrating in an instant, as Kent experienced rebirth once more.

At this mont, a mild pain spread through his head, but the shock in his mind made him neglect the headache.

Repeated deaths had already dissipated the killing intent that had once clouded his mind. Upon regaining clarity, he realized the ridiculousness of what he was doing. How could he let himself be lost in the illusion realm created by the dungeon without actively seeking a way out!

But there was no ti to think, as the Undead Team attacked again, sending him back to rebirth.

Being killed really did hurt, and the continuous agony made Kent curl up, his brain working at full speed.

Quick, think of a way to break this situation. This illusion realm couldn’t possibly trap soone forever, there must be sothing—

Ti was up, and the Undead Team attacked again, rebooting Kent’s thoughts.

He couldn’t rember how many tis he had resurrected, he just felt numb.

Watching the Casas collapse like a defeated mountain and the approaching Undead Team, this ti he opened his arms calmly.

Death, rebirth, and an endless loop of this process.

Whether he resisted or accepted it, there was no way to end what he perceived as an "illusion". This went beyond his common knowledge, leaving him unable to find a solution.

Kent exerted all his strength, but only managed to kill a few Gollum. As soon as the Undead Team appeared, he had no choice but to ekly go to revive.

He also tried to survive on the battlefield, and after countless deaths, about a tenth of the Casas warriors were still standing.

And at this mont, the atmosphere changed. From behind them ca the terrifying aura of the Overlord, erupting with a roar and majesty.

This ant the Overlord Vonier was about to strike!

Kent’s face showed joy. Could it be that the Overlord could defeat the Undead Team, and the way out of the illusion was to survive until the Overlord’s victory?

I’m a genius for thinking of this!

The heavens and earth changed color, dark clouds rolled in, and the battlefield looked like a final showdown was about to comnce. But at that mont—

Kent’s vision blurred, the scene shifted, and he found himself back at the beginning of it all.

Nothing, there was no display of the battle scene or the result between the Overlord and the Undead Team.

"..."

The joy vanished from his face. Shocked beyond words, Kent opened his mouth, his jawbone dropping straight to the ground.

He stared in a daze for a long ti, watching the Undead Team approach slowly like death gods...

He squatted on the ground, holding his head in fear like a child.

Outside the Painting World.

"Where did Master Kent go?" Aston just killed the second Human’s Pus while injured, only to find Kent missing, with the rcenaries around him looking bewildered.

"What use are you all!"

He was furious, summoning imnse strength out of nowhere to deliver a bare chokehold to the Human’s Pus in front of him! An ordinary person would have had their bones crushed by now.

But when you feel dejected in life, rember soone tried to chokehold a Human’s Pus.

The Human’s Pus, whose form was almost indistinguishable from sludge, couldn’t be restrained by a human body and imdiately dragged Aston’s body, crashing back and forth in the chamber like a rampaging calf.

"Tsk!"

Each collision made Aston spit blood, looking severely injured.

However, his expression remained light, as if the injuries were insignificant, healing in an instant.

He touched the round necklace on his chest. As long as he used it, he could easily win, but he glanced at the rcenaries around him and ultimately gave up.

This was a secret of the captains and a few others, not to be shown in front of ordinary rcenaries.

After trendous effort, having killed the fourth Human’s Pus, no new monster erged, finally allowing Aston and his group to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Captain, the places where these monsters ca in are the exit!" The rcenaries discovered a way to escape the chamber.

"What’s the point of going out, Master Kent is missing." Aston gritted his teeth. They essentially had to rely on Kent for this mission. What could a few rcenaries do, probably just getting caught in traps shortly after getting out.

"I just saw Master Kent being sucked into the painting..."

A rcenary picked up the painting from the ground, and everyone fell silent, soone raising the most crucial question:

"Can the master co out?"

Just as the words were spoken, the painting suddenly shattered, and Kent ca out!

His hunched figure knelt on the ground, trembling pitifully.

"Master Kent!" Aston hurriedly went up to support him, his face filled with worry and joy, "Thank goodness you’re back, are you alright, are you hurt?"

He pulled out a healing potion to pour into Kent. Whether sick or not, a vial of healing potion was bound to have so effect.

Kent, like a boneless puppet, let himself be manipulated. Detecting sothing wrong, Aston flipped him over, noticing the slightly dazed look in Kent’s eyes and instantly feeling a tight grip on his heart.

"Master Kent?" he tentatively called out.

Kent responded, his dry lips moving to mutter an award acceptance speech:

"Aba aba?"

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