Chapter 128
"Thanks for the backup! But who exactly are you—?"
It took five minutes to defeat the dragon zombie after that.
I thought I’d compensate for the drop in firepower with my arm strength, but my bow skills haven’t declined as much as I expected.
"I’m from the ducal house."
As a child operating alone, I needed some kind of justification. That’s where the family crest comes in handy.
"! The Edelgard ducal crest—my apologies!!"
When I pulled out the dagger I’d borrowed from His Grace the Duke and showed the crest engraved on its sheath, the knight saluted.
"No need. Could you handle transporting the dragon zombie’s drops? I have business further inside." "Of course, leave it to me!!"
Whether it was due to proper training or because they assumed I was a halfling, the knight straightened their posture and answered crisply. The adventurers, too, subtly straightened their backs the moment they realized I was associated with the ducal house.
They’ve gathered some good personnel.
"Much appreciated. I’ll head out once I’ve retrieved my arrows. Thank you for fighting alongside me." "Not at all! Your archery skills—keeping steady shots on that rampaging dragon zombie’s head—were a learning experience for me!!"
This kind of no-nonsense, mutually respectful interaction is refreshing.
Since the dragon zombie turned to ash, arrows were scattered everywhere.
In FBO, arrows with remaining durability can be reused, so I gathered as many as possible.
As I busily picked them up, someone handed me an arrow.
"Thank you." "Think nothing of it. Good luck out there."
It was the same knight from earlier.
Beneath their helmet, I caught a glimpse of a smile. I nodded, stowed all the recovered arrows in my quiver, gave them a quick bow, and dashed off.
I had anticipated encountering the dragon zombie. But it didn’t take as long to defeat as I’d thought.
"...I remember more than I expected."
The fight with the dragon zombie confirmed that I’d regained my gamer’s muscle memory.
It was enough to shake off the rust.
As I passed through the mid-boss area guarded by the dragon zombie and descended deeper—layer after layer—the frequency of encountering knights and adventurers dwindled.
Naturally, the frequency of enemy encounters increased.
"Hmm, the goblin zombies are thinning out. At this point, hobgoblin zombies are the main threat."
And the enemies grew stronger.
By my estimate, the boss Dullahan would likely appear from the 28th floor onward in this dungeon.
Right now, I’m on the 23rd.
Just a little further to my destination.
Once I passed the deepest layer the dungeon exploration team had reached, all sounds became those of enemies—only the heavy thuds of footsteps echoed around me.
I exploited blind spots, weaving through gaps in the hulking undead with stealth techniques to avoid engagement.
At one point, I spotted two dragon zombies patrolling together.
Then, the passage widened again, and another dragon zombie stood guard like an area boss. The setup was likely meant to stall intruders, letting the noise of battle draw the patrolling dragon zombies for a pincer attack.
"Well, avoiding them is easy enough."
I pulled two separate items from my magic bag.
A sharp *shhh* sound followed as smoke began billowing from one, then the other ignited shortly after. First, I threw the smoke bomb.
It traced a parabola through the air. The dragon zombie noticed, tilting its head in confusion—just before the smoke bomb exploded in its face. A moment later, something else rolled to its feet and burst.
Smoke bomb and rage bomb.
If you asked whether gunpowder existed in this world, the answer would be *yes, but—*
You might think, *Then you could make guns, right?* And you’d be correct—ancient weapons like matchlock-style muzzleloaders exist as relic weapons.
They’re powerful, but gunpowder consumption is extreme, making them a *money sink* type of weapon.
Maintenance and modifications also require specialized blacksmiths, making them impractical for prolonged use.
Since rapid fire isn’t an option, they’re ill-suited for consecutive battles.
As a result, expendable items like these became the convenient alternative.
*Convenient* doesn’t mean *cheap*, though.
One of these bombs costs about as much as a slightly upscale meal—not *buy-a-car* levels of expensive, but not something you’d toss around carelessly.
Still, pinching pennies here would just waste time.
I dashed through the smoke, slipped past the gap created by the rage bomb, and broke through.
I considered fighting the dragon zombies, but factoring in firepower, cost, and time, the efficiency just wasn’t there.
So slipping past was the best option.
On the way back, the anti-dragon greatbow would be ready, making it much easier to take them down.
"Mmm, these biscuits with dried fruit are pretty good. But no matter the world, these always make you thirsty."
After bypassing the dragon zombies and delving deeper, I’d likely reached the 31st layer.
"...Alright. Thanks for the meal."
What I found in the deepest part was shallower than I’d expected. Confirming no enemies were nearby, I took a break and chewed on a block of portable rations for calories.
This would keep me going for a while. I drank a little extra water, then turned my gaze to the boss room door.
Except the open boss room was empty.
"Hmm, I expected this, but the Dullahan’s in the wyvern’s dungeon, huh?"
The boss that should’ve been here was missing—meaning it had gone to the wyvern’s dungeon.
"Gotta be careful not to cross paths."
The Dullahan’s presence is usually preceded by its minions. As long as I stayed alert for them, I’d be fine.
"*Sigh*, I didn’t plan to go this deep, but I guess I’ll have to venture further."
Keeping that in mind, I first prodded the boss room with my spear.
Some bosses are nasty—pretending they aren’t there, only to slaughter players who let their guard down.
Spiders, octopi, chameleons—the variations are endless.
I know the Dullahan isn’t that type of monster, but it never hurts to be cautious.
"Okay, no reaction."
Even after waving the blade around, nothing responded. I stepped into the open boss room.
"Ah, I see..."
The moment I entered, I understood.
An unnatural mist filled the vast hollow—the same kind that appears when a dungeon is generated.
Standing before it, I could see the scenery beyond.
"No mistake—this is the wyvern dungeon."
The goblin dungeon that formed the base of this one was a closed, cave-type dungeon.
But the wyvern’s dungeon was different.
Sheer cliffs lined a ravine—an open-field dungeon with no spatial boundaries. One misstep, and you’d plummet straight down to the river below with no guarantee of survival.
An entire mountain served as the dungeon—an open-field type.
For wyverns and wind drakes soaring the skies, enclosed dungeons are a poor fit.
Hence, this layout.
Passing through the dungeon entrance, I immediately scanned my surroundings.
"No Dullahan here, huh?"
Makes sense. This isn’t the Dullahan’s domain—it’s ruled by wind drakes.
Even if the Dullahan stationed minions at the entrance, the wyverns would swoop in and eliminate the intruders the moment they were detected.
"...There."
After confirming no monsters were nearby, I relaxed slightly.
Then, while staying alert, I spotted something.
"Ah, so that’s where the chaos is."
Open-field dungeons like this have multiple routes—much like a mountain with various climbing paths.
On one of those routes, the sounds of fierce combat and the shrill cries of drakes echoed.
Wyverns circled the skies while breath attacks bombarded from below.
Dragon zombies and wyverns locked in battle—it was practically a neon sign saying *The Dullahan is here!*
"Then avoiding that area is the smart move."
The downside of open-field dungeons is that prolonged combat with territorial monsters can easily spawn a monster house.
If every monster in the vicinity converges there, the only options are to move undetected or strike fast.
No need for exaggerated stealth, but drawing attention is a bad idea.
So, knowing the Dullahan was in that commotion, I could use it as a decoy and move more safely.
Staying alert, I searched for wyverns.
They fly freely through the skies, unleash wind breath attacks, and on top of that, have above-average durability.
Taking down such superior foes solo meant choosing the battlefield carefully.
The ravine’s paths were barely wide enough for two people to pass, and the occasional open spaces felt cramped with just ten people.
Suitable combat areas were rare, and those that existed usually had fewer wyvern spawns.
"Here."
With that in mind, I climbed the mountain and picked my spot.
The wyvern dungeon’s mountain had 32 structural patterns.
Details like trees and flowers varied endlessly, but the skeleton of the terrain—its geographical framework—remained fixed.
The place I found was a hollowed-out plaza in the cliffs—a dead end with a ceiling of overhanging rock, only one accessible path, and a sheer drop beyond.
The kind of place that *looked* like it might hold a treasure chest but was really just a dead end.
A cramped area where you’d be cornered if ambushed.
Most would deem it too dangerous to rest here and press on.
But for me, it was the perfect hunting ground for wyverns.
"Now..."
Luring wyverns here required the right tools. I reached into my magic bag and pulled out another rage bomb, lighting the fuse.
"And... now!"
I hurled it with an overhand throw.
The bomb arced through the ravine and—after a delay—*cracked* with a sharp report.
The tranquil ravine was shattered by noise.
**"SKREEEEEEE—!!!"**
The wyvern’s shriek was a denial of that disturbance.
Three wyverns emerged from caves along the cliffs, scanning for the intruder.
I drew my greatbow, aiming at them.
"The enemy is *here*."
The arrow, loosed at full draw, streaked toward the wyvern nest on the opposite cliff—lower than this plaza.
"Direct hit."
Fire attribute, anti-air specialization—the two traits unleashed their full potential. Three headshots in rapid succession.
The sudden critical hits destabilized the wyverns, sending them tumbling from their nests down the cliff face.
"Upgrading the spirit stone’s rank was the right call."
A single arrow wasn’t enough to kill a wyvern, but that strike plus the fall damage sealed the deal.
Of course, pulling this off was only possible because I’d gotten a Class 4 spirit stone instead of Class 3.
Among the three lesser dragonkin, wyverns have the lowest HP and defense.
Still, their stats are above average—but with this weapon, tailored specifically for them, a headshot (biologically fatal) could inflict near-mortal wounds.
What makes wyverns troublesome is their mobility, attack power, and resilience.
But before they take flight from their nests, they’re stationary targets—and anti-air effects still apply.
Plus, this area’s elevation was essentially a physics engine exploit.
A glance over the cliff edge would send acrophobes into a cold sweat, frozen in place.
Incidentally, this ravine existed from the dungeon’s entrance.
We’d started inside the mountain at an absurd altitude.
Climbing further only increased the height.
"Now, it’s just a simple job of headshotting respawning wyverns in their nests."
Using the elevation and headshots, I hunted wyverns relentlessly.
Draw, release. Draw, release.
Wyverns emerging from nests, scanning their surroundings—met with full-force headshots.
The tension of knowing a single miss would send them flying with an arrow lodged in their body—I savored it as I sent wyvern after wyvern plummeting into the ravine.