David S.R
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Chapter 66 (Thank you for your support, Steven Leguyt!)
🕑 Added 2025-09-22 15:33:16 +0000 UTCTwo months of relentless grind bore fruit. Ludger’s weighted runs, his endless bursts of Dash and Quickstride, his nights of mana-burning discipline—piece by piece, they stacked into something solid.
When he tested the road again, the world blurred beneath his feet, lungs pulling steady even as the wind tore past. The familiar pressure of the labyrinth came into sight before the sun had climbed much past mid-morning.
Ludger slowed at the treeline, steam rising from his body like mist. His calves ached, his chest heaved, but this time he wasn’t spent. He still had something left in the tank. Enough to fight. Enough to survive.
He looked at the dungeon’s stone gate, the mist curling from its cracks like a beast’s breath. For weeks he had run here and turned back, saving the test for when his body was ready. Now, he clenched his fists, armguards humming faintly with mana.
No more running to the doorstep and leaving. Time to step inside. Alone.
The oppressive aura pushed against his skin as he crossed the threshold. The light of the world dimmed behind him, swallowed by the stone maw of the labyrinth. Ludger’s smirk was sharp, his eyes gleaming. “Let’s see how far I can get.” And with that, he entered the labyrinth.
The air inside the labyrinth was damp, heavy with the stench of mold and something fouler—iron and rot. Ludger had barely taken ten steps when the shadows ahead stirred.
Yellow eyes gleamed in the dark.
A trio of goblins crept from behind jagged stone, crude blades in hand, their teeth bared in crooked grins. They weren’t startled, weren’t panicked—they looked ready. As if they had been waiting.
Ludger froze for only a second, fists tightening inside his gauntlets. Last time I was here… He remembered Arslan at the front, Selene barking orders, Harold’s axe spraying gore, Aleia’s arrows whistling into skulls. Back then, the goblins had been scattered, half-starved stragglers in a dungeon not yet awake. This was different.
They were organized—if goblins could be called that. The one in front grunted, waving its jagged cleaver, and the others spread to his flanks. A crude formation, but still a formation.
So that’s it, Ludger thought, lips curling into a dry smirk. The war dragged all the adventurers north. No one’s been culling the spawn down here. Which means the trash had time to grow bold.
The lead goblin snarled and stepped forward, blade scraping against the wall. The others echoed with shrill, eager screeches.
Ludger raised his fists, the faint hum of Weapon Enhancing crawling along the silver-red armguards. His heart thumped steady, sharp—not fear, but focus.
“Alright then,” he muttered, eyes narrowing. “Let’s make this quick.”
The lead goblin shrieked and lunged, its axe hacking down in a jagged arc. Ludger pivoted aside, the blade biting stone instead of flesh. His gauntlet-clad fist shot forward, cracking into the goblin’s temple with a sickening crunch. The monster collapsed instantly, twitching as blood pooled from its shattered skull.
The other two howled and rushed him together. One stabbed with a rusty spear, the other swung a jagged club. Ludger dropped low, Quickstride carrying him under the spear, and drove his fist straight into the creature’s gut.
The impact tore through flesh like paper—his armguard punching clean through until hot blood splattered across his knuckles. The goblin gagged, eyes bulging, before it sagged around his arm. Ludger ripped free with a snarl, kicking the corpse aside.
The last goblin hesitated, fear flickering in its yellow eyes, then swung wild in desperation. Ludger met it head-on. His gauntlet clamped around the monster’s wrist mid-swing, twisting until bone snapped. The club clattered uselessly to the ground.
Before the creature could even scream, Ludger’s other fist came down like a hammer, crushing its skull against the stone floor. The crack echoed through the corridor, wet and final.
Silence followed. Three bodies lay sprawled around him, their blood already seeping into the cracked stone.
Ludger exhaled sharply, chest heaving. He glanced at his gauntlets—coated red, steam rising faintly from the aura still clinging to them.
He blinked once, smirk tugging faintly at his lips. I killed them… too easily. Even easier than the assassins.
He hadn’t expected the goblins to fall so quickly. Not with such little resistance. Every counter, every strike had been fatal without him even meaning it to be.
“Am I… already this far ahead?” he muttered under his breath.The labyrinth groaned faintly around him, as if answering.
As the last goblin’s body slumped, faint notifications flickered across Ludger’s vision:
[Hard Fists +10 XP ]
[Quick Fists +10 XP]
[Hard Fists +10 XP ]
[Quick Fists +10 XP]
[Hard Fists +10 XP ]
[Quick Fists +10 XP]
Ludger flexed his blood-soaked gauntlets, breathing slow. So even skills level when I kill monsters. The realization sparked like fire in his chest. That means… I can train them this way too. Hunting isn’t just survival—it’s growth.
He glanced at the corpses, lips pressed thin. Monsters bled the same, screamed the same, but the system rewarded him here when it hadn’t with the assassins.
Why?
The memory of that night flickered—blood on his hands, the thud of bodies dragged into the sewers, Luna’s calm gaze as she ignored his grin. No notifications. No experience. Nothing.
His jaw tightened. So the system doesn’t count humans? Or just not “ordinary” ones?
It gnawed at him. The bandits had been real enemies, threatening his family. He’d fought, killed, survived. But the system hadn’t acknowledged any of it.
What’s the difference between a goblin and a man with a spear?
He wiped the blood from his gauntlet on one of the corpses, his smirk sharpening despite the unease creeping in. “Doesn’t matter. Whatever rules this thing has, I’ll figure them out.”
The labyrinth was quiet again, the air thick with its oppressive aura. Ludger rolled his shoulders, fists clenching. For now… I’ll take what it gives me. And I’ll wring every drop of strength from it.
The stone swallowed him again, the heavy air pressing down like a wet blanket. Ludger had already made up his mind—no mana this time. No Weapon Enhancing, no flashy bolts. Just his body, his guards, and whatever instincts he’d carved into his bones.
If I can’t crush the weak without mana, I won’t last against the strong.
The corridors wound deeper, every sound magnified in the silence—the scrape of his boots, the faint drip of water. Then came the shuffle. More eyes gleamed in the dark. Five goblins this time, clustered in a crude pack, crude blades and clubs raised. They cackled and snarled, their rotten teeth flashing.
Ludger smirked. Good. A real test.
The first rushed him, cleaver high. Ludger ducked low, shoulder slamming into the goblin’s ribs, sending it sprawling into the wall. A second lunged immediately after, stabbing with a jagged spear. He caught the shaft with both hands, twisted, and snapped it over his knee before driving the splintered tip into the monster’s throat.
Blood sprayed hot across his cheek. He didn’t flinch.
The others swarmed, screeching. One swung a club, another a rusted blade. Ludger weaved between them, fists hammering forward—crack! One jaw shattered, the goblin collapsing in a heap. Crunch! Another’s ribs gave way under a brutal hook.
The last two hesitated, fear flashing in their yellow eyes. Ludger stepped forward, breathing hard but steady, his smirk sharp. “What? You thought I needed mana for this?”
They screeched in desperation and charged together. Ludger sidestepped the first, grabbed it by the skull, and slammed its face into the stone until it stopped twitching. The final goblin slashed wildly, nicking his armguard, but Ludger’s counterpunch caved its chest in.
Silence again. Five corpses cooling on the ground, blood pooling into the cracks.
Ludger exhaled through his nose, rolling his shoulders. His fists throbbed faintly, skin raw under the gauntlets. But inside, something hummed.
[Hard Fists+10 XP ]
[Quick Fists +10 XP]
[Hard Fists+10 XP ]
[Quick Fists +10 XP]
[Hard Fists+10 XP ]
[Quick Fists +10 XP]
[Hard Fists+10 XP ]
[Quick Fists +10 XP]
[Hard Fists+10 XP ]
[Quick Fists +10 XP]
His smirk deepened. Perfect. This place really is a grindstone. And I won’t dull my edge by leaning on mana.
He glanced deeper into the dark, the labyrinth groaning faintly like some slumbering beast. Let’s see how much sharper I can get before it wakes up.
The dark corridors stretched endlessly, every corner echoing with distant snarls. Ludger pressed on, fists raised, guards heavy with blood. He made himself a promise—no mana, no shortcuts.
One fight bled into the next. More goblins. Packs of three, sometimes five. They shrieked and lunged, their crude weapons clashing against steel and skin. Ludger countered each time, his movements growing sharper, more efficient. A broken wrist here, a crushed throat there, his gauntlets painting the stone red with every clash.
By the fifth fight, his knuckles ached, his breathing was heavy, and sweat clung to his shirt like a second skin. But his eyes gleamed.
He wiped blood off his gauntlet, flexing sore fingers. It works. Every fight without mana pushes me harder. The skills climb faster. The body adjusts quicker. But…
His smirk thinned as he glanced deeper into the labyrinth. The air felt heavier there, thicker, like something stronger was waiting in the dark. He wasn’t ready for that yet. Not today.
Take it gradually. If I rush, I’ll waste this place before I even learn how far it can take me.
Turning on his heel, Ludger began retracing his steps. The corpses marked his path back—broken bodies slumped against stone, eyes glassy, mouths twisted in frozen snarls. He didn’t linger on them. By the time the dungeon mouth opened again to daylight, his shirt clung to him with sweat and gore.
He exhaled slow, smirking faintly despite the ache. “Five fights. That’s enough for now. Tomorrow… I’ll go further.”
And with that, he started the long run back home, the labyrinth’s oppressive aura still clinging to his skin like a shadow he carried with him.
By the time Ludger reached the estate, the sun was already high. He slipped through the back streets, using Silent Steps out of habit, his shirt sticking to his skin with sweat, his guards scrubbed hastily against grass and dirt to hide the blood.
Elaine was humming in the kitchen. Viola’s voice carried from the yard as she trained hard. Perfect distractions. Ludger moved carefully down the hall toward his room, smirk tugging at his lips. Easy. No one noticed a thing.
“...You’re late.”
Ludger froze. At the corner near his room stood Luna, hands folded neatly in front of her apron, her silver eyes cool and unreadable in the dim light. She hadn’t raised her voice, hadn’t even moved—but her gaze pinned him like a spear.
For a split second, Ludger’s smirk faltered. He could still feel the stink of the labyrinth on his skin, the faint ache of fists meeting bone. Did she notice? Her eyes flicked down to his boots, then back up to meet his. No accusation. Just suspicion. Quiet, sharp, heavy.
Ludger exhaled through his nose and forced his smirk back into place. “What? Can’t a guy go for a run without a lecture?”
Luna tilted her head, her expression unreadable. Then she stepped aside silently, leaving his path open. But her gaze lingered on him as he passed, cold and calculating.
Yeah, Ludger thought, slipping into his room. She noticed something. Question is… how much?
The next morning, Ludger was tightening the straps on his weighted shin guards when Luna appeared by the doorway, as silent as ever.
“You smelled like blood when you came back yesterday,” she said, her voice calm but edged. “If you’re going to do something shady, at least learn how to avoid getting it on yourself.”
Ludger paused, then looked up at her with a thin smirk. “That’s the lecture? Not ‘stop sneaking around,’ not ‘don’t get yourself killed’… just ‘wipe better’?”
Luna’s expression didn’t shift. “If you insist on doing reckless things, the least you can do is not drag suspicion onto the household.”
He let out a dry chuckle, tightening the strap with a snap. “Relax. I’m not sloppy enough to let Mom or Viola see anything. Only you.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, though her voice stayed level. “That’s not a compliment. It means you underestimate the wrong people.”
Ludger shrugged, rolling his shoulders. “Maybe. Or maybe I just expect you to keep quiet if you don’t want Viola throwing herself into whatever I’m doing.”
For a long moment, Luna said nothing. Then she sighed softly through her nose, her posture as straight as ever. “At least clean yourself properly next time. Blood clings to more than just skin.”
Ludger smirked, amused at her tone, then pushed past her toward the yard. “Noted. Guess I’ll add ‘stain removal’ to my training routine.”
Behind him, Luna’s gaze lingered like a blade at his back, silent but sharp.
The labyrinth swallowed him again the next day , its air thick and fetid, its silence broken only by distant shrieks. Ludger pressed deeper than before, armguards clenched, no mana shimmering across them.
The goblins came in groups. Three at first. Then five. Then clusters of six or seven, drawn by his presence like flies to rot. Ludger met them all the same way—ducking, weaving, countering with fists and steel.
By the fifth group, his knuckles ached. By the eighth, his shirt was soaked in sweat, his breathing ragged. But each fight sharpened him further, every counter flowing smoother, every strike landing heavier.
By the time he crushed the skull of the tenth goblin in his tenth skirmish, Ludger leaned back against the stone wall, chest heaving. Blood clung to him again, despite his efforts to keep it clean.
Deeper in the labyrinth, the air grew heavier. Oppressive. A faint, guttural roar echoed far below—something larger than a pack of scavengers.
Champion, Ludger realized. His smirk faded into a thin line. Goblin Champions weren’t clever, but they were brute walls of muscle, too much for a barehanded warm-up run.
He wiped his gauntlet on a corpse and stood straight. Not yet. If I get reckless and meet that thing now, I’ll have to use mana to crawl out alive. That defeats the point.
He turned, retracing his steps. Ten fights was enough. Enough blood, enough strain, enough sharpening for today. The labyrinth still had deeper shadows waiting—but Ludger would reach them on his terms, not theirs.
As he stepped back into the sunlight an hour later, sweat steaming from his skin, he smirked faintly. Ten groups today. Tomorrow… maybe twelve.
