Chapter 7: The fat aristocrat holds up his rapier

As Mitrof descended the stairs to the third basement floor, he ran his finger over the hilt of his rapier to check if it was still secure.

Last night, after disbanding with Grace, Mitrof quickly fell asleep upon returning to his room.
His fatigue seemed to have accumulated deeper than he thought, as he slept soundly without any dreams.

When he woke up, it was almost noon, which meant it was time to meet with Grace.

He filled his stomach with light snacks from the food stalls along the way and dove into the labyrinth.

The only difference today was that he had a companion.

With the two of them, the goblins they encountered were easily dealt with.

Grace, being a skilled hunter, was excellent with a bow.
Despite the darkness, she had sharp eyes and would silently shoot the goblin in the head without being noticed.

Until now, Mitrof had not unsheathed his sword.
Without much time to prepare his body, he felt a little uneasy about descending into the unknown third basement floor.

“I wonder what kind of monsters are in the third basement floor.
Do you know?”

He called out to Grace from behind without catching up to her.
Grace didn’t turn around but responded.

“I heard there are wolves called fangs.
They generally act alone, but sometimes there are exceptional individuals that lead a pack.”

“A pack? That’s a bit scary.”

“In that case, it would be better to run away as much as possible.
The two of us wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

No matter how small they may be, they are still wolves, and it depends on how big the pack is.
They cannot be taken lightly.

“By the way, how about the effect of sublimation? Do you feel any pain or discomfort?”

“I forgot.”

Yesterday, the two of them gained growth called sublimation when they defeated the kobold.
He confirmed by clenching his fists and rotating his arms, but there seemed to be no significant change.

“I wonder if anything has changed.”

“I feel slightly stronger, and my body feels more energetic.”

He nod in understanding.

If Grace says so, then there is no doubt that the influence of sublimation exists.
Perhaps Mitrof himself hasn’t noticed it yet.

When they reached the top of the stairs, there was a square room about the size of one room.

There were passages extending to the left and right.
The area around the staircase seemed to have been thoroughly fortified by the past adventurers as it was easily targeted by monsters.

Merchants spread out their goods, such as healing potions and food, on the cloth.
Adventurers resting by the walls can also be seen.

It was neither bustling nor eerily quiet.
It didn’t seem like a place where people would risk their lives fighting just outside.

As they delve deeper, they may come to rely on trading with the merchants on the square and other adventurers.

Mitrof and Grace both pass by, stepping into the passage.

It looks the same as the underground second floor.
Stone walls and floors.
Lamps placed later continue to illuminate the corridor.

The absence of monsters might mean they have already been hunted down by the adventurers who came before them.

“Monsters don’t have limits, do they?” Mitrof asked Grace, who was walking ahead.

“No matter how many times we exterminate them, they seem to come from somewhere.
It’s a place full of mysteries that scholars have yet to unravel.”

“Thanks to that, we can get today’s food.”

“Monster is coming out already.
That must be a Fang.”

Grace stooped down and pulled an arrow from her quiver at her back, attaching it to his bow.

Her sharp blue eyes seemed to see the wolf lurking in the darkness at the end of the hallway.

Mitrof also stared hard but couldn’t see anything.

The sound of the arrow flying through the air echoed.

The arrow bounced off the lantern hanging on the wall and sucked into the dark corner.

As a low moan-like scream was heard, the wolf appeared in the light.

It turned its face away and tried to bite the arrow stuck in its neck, but it couldn’t reach it.
Frustrated, it began to run towards them.

Mitrof drew his rapier and stepped forward.

Grace also uses a short sword, but her main profession is that of a hunter.
She scouts the area and strikes first with her bow, while Mitrof takes on the front line.

This was the strategy discussed while having dinner last night.

Until now, due to Grace’s exceptional archery skills, Mitrof has not had a role to play.
However, the time has come for him to wield his sword.

The wolf runs as if crawling on the ground.
“It’s fast!” Mitrof exclaimed.

There is a certain calmness due to the distance, but if it are approached at close range, they might be overwhelmed by that speed.
Especially since Mitrof’s heavy physique is not well-suited for close combat.

With determination, Mitrof thrusts his sword forward.
He shifts his weight to his right foot and bends slightly, placing his left hand in front of his stomach.

It is one of the styles of the piercing swords that nobles use in duels.

The sharp and slender rapier can also be used for parrying and sweeping, but its true strength lies in piercing.
The technique of aiming for the shortest point and striking with precision is a technology that pursues a one-hit kill.

The fang approaches.

Mitrof pulls back the hilt, bringing it closer to his chest.
The tip of the sword remains steady and aims straight at the fang. 

At a distance of three meters, the fang jumped.

Lined with bloodied sharp teeth, it aimed to sink into Mitrof’s neck, mouth wide open.
Mitrof stared into the fang’s yellow, cloudy eyes that showed no signs of reason.

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