Chapter 17: Growth in Blood and Battle
The sound of steel clashing against claws echoed through the dim stone corridors of the Dungeon's third floor. Ethan ducked under a kobold's wide swing, his sharpened dagger glinting in the flickering light of the magic stone lamps embedded in the walls. In one smooth motion, he swept his leg beneath the creature, sending it toppling before driving his blade into its chest.
Ding!
A brief pulse of light faded from the kobold's body as it crumbled into ash, leaving behind a glimmering blue crystal.
Ethan exhaled sharply, scooping the magic stone into his pouch. His body dripped with sweat, but he stood firm—faster, sharper, more focused than he'd been just days ago. The Dungeon had become his training ground and battlefield.
For the past week, he'd descended daily into its depths, pushing his body and instincts further. From clunky movements and cheap gear, he'd adapted—his reflexes honed, his strategies sharpened.
And every night, he returned to the small, run-down church that was now his home, where Hestia awaited with warm food, healing salves, and the gentle comfort only a goddess could offer.
Tonight, as the sun set over Orario, Ethan sat cross-legged with his shirt off while Hestia worked silently behind him.
"Hmmm..." she muttered, her finger tracing symbols onto his back with glowing ink.
"What's wrong?" he asked, sensing her hesitation.
"It's not wrong exactly..." she replied. "It's just... you could level up."
Ethan's eyes narrowed. "Already?"