Watching Hydra and his party from the separate surveillance room, Vergil and Creed fell into a momentary silence.
Vergil was the first to speak, his gaze analytical. "I am not entirely surprised by his performance. It appears this Warrior, Hydra, has been granted a blessing by Sophia, the Goddess of War. He is likely operating under a specific, divine mission."
Creed's eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of the goddess. "I will do some digging tonight and see what I can find out about this 'mission' of his."
"Even so," Vergil added smoothly, turning his attention back to the blade he was forging, "since we both originate from another world, there is no need to harbor any unnecessary hostility toward him."
Creed watched his brother work, noticing the strange segmentation forming on the metal. "Are you making that?" he asked.
"I once fought a Sword Mistress whose fighting style was incredibly unique," Vergil explained, striking the metal with precision. "I have been fascinated by her weapon ever since."
Freya looked over from her station. "Are you crafting a Snake Sword, Vergil?"
"Exactly," Vergil confirmed. "When paired with the right magical enhancements, its element of surprise is devastatingly effective against enemies."
Lira tilted her head from laboratory, her curiosity piqued. "What kind of weapon is a Snake Sword?" Aria and Chloe quickly gathered around as well, equally eager to learn about their father's new project.
Sylvy instantly raised her hand. "I know what it is! Can I explain?"
Vergil smiled and gave her a nod of approval.
"Physically, a Snake Sword looks just like a standard, rigid short sword," Sylvy explained to her sisters. "But the blade is segmented. With a flick of the wrist, it can extend and behave like a whip. Because it masquerades as a normal close-quarters weapon, it provides sudden, massive reach and allows for highly unpredictable strike angles."
Vergil mimicked the sound of a ringing bell. "Spot on. Sylvy is absolutely correct."
"Though, because of its flexible nature, a Snake Sword is notoriously difficult for a beginner to control without injuring themselves," Mina pointed out astutely.
"Very true," Vergil said, pointing the tip of his hammer toward the sword. "Which is exactly why Mina, Lira, and Sylvy will need to train extensively to master it—assuming you three still want to reach the tier of 'Sword God'."
Mina, Lira, and Sylvy immediately stood at attention, their eyes shining with determination. "Yes, Father!" they answered in perfect, enthusiastic unison.
Hydra and his party stepped through the heavy doors and finally entered the rumored Safe Room. The expansive chamber was surprisingly bustling. Several adventuring parties were scattered around the area, taking well-deserved rests, while a few opportunistic merchants were already busy setting up makeshift stalls and kiosks to sell supplies.
"So this really is the Safe Room everyone has been talking about," Hydra breathed, looking around in awe. The two parties that had been escorting the merchants nodded in confirmation.
Just then, Gideon Vanguard and his party emerged from a deeper corridor, looking visibly exhausted.
"Where did you just come from?" one of the escorting adventurers called out.
"Level 6," Gideon replied, wiping sweat from his brow. "The entire floor is swarming with skeleton-type monsters. We only managed to push about five percent of the way in before we hit a wall."
Hydra frowned, stepping forward. "If you pushed in, how did you end up back here in the Safe Room?"
"Whenever I realize a battle is unwinnable, I order a tactical retreat back up the stairs," Gideon explained. "The moment you cross back over the threshold, the dungeon automatically expels the entire party back into this room."
A mage from one of the other resting parties nodded in fierce agreement. "We tried pushing into Level 6 as well. Those skeletons are absurdly strong. They move in coordinated formations, almost as if they are being commanded by a brilliant tactician. We had to retreat, too."
Hydra's Assassin stepped up, crossing her arms. "But how did you all get into the Safe Room so easily? When my party got wiped out before, we were thrown completely out of the dungeon and had to fight that Nine-Tailed Fox all over again just to get back here."
The leaders of the three resting parties chuckled in unison. "Check your dominant arms," one of them suggested.
Hydra and his party quickly rolled up their sleeves. Etched into their skin, right on their dominant arms, was a glowing magical tattoo shaped like a beast's claw.
"What is this?" Hydra asked, tracing the sigil.
"It is a magical teleportation tattoo," the party leader explained. "Because you defeated the boss, you earned the mark. Now, you can use the magic crystal lantern outside the dungeon entrance to teleport your party directly into this Safe Room."
Hydra's Mage gasped, a look of sudden realization dawning on her face. "So that is why the mana signature of that crystal outside felt so familiar! It is a warp gate!"
With a heavy sigh, Gideon unequipped his weapon and took a seat alongside the other parties. "As I see it, we have two choices," the veteran adventurer stated. "We either wait here for more parties to arrive so we can merge into a larger raid group, or we keep pushing into Level 6, retreating, and slowly grinding our way forward."
Hydra looked at the Vanguard noble. "Are those skeletons really that dangerous?"
"They are physically standard skeletons," Gideon clarified, "but their combat techniques are on par with the Elite Guards that patrol the streets of Dark Village."
Hydra raised an eyebrow. "And how would you know that?"
"Because I have personally sparred with those guards across various races," Gideon answered grimly. "When these skeletons hit you, you feel the exact same heavy, disciplined impact behind their strikes."
One of the other party leaders shuddered, rubbing his bruised ribs. "He is not exaggerating. The weight of their attacks is no joke."
"Tomorrow, I will give it a try," Hydra announced, a confident gleam in his eye. "Who knows, perhaps I will stumble upon something interesting down there."
Gideon nodded seriously. "Do not forget to stock up on physical buffing potions. You are going to need the extra strength if you want to push through their lines." Hydra agreed, and with their strategy set for the next day, the four adventuring parties finally settled down to rest in the safety of the sanctuary.
Meanwhile, back in the forge, Vergil had successfully completed his masterpiece: the Snake Sword. In its dormant state, it appeared to be a beautifully crafted, rigid short sword, its hilt adorned with a perfectly spherical, deep purple gemstone.
"Enter," Vergil commanded. In a flash of teleportation magic, he materialized directly inside the dungeon's expansive training arena.
Valkriea, who had just finished deploying a fresh batch of yellow slimes on Level 2B, paused as she noticed Vergil stepping onto the training grounds. Vergil immediately engaged one of the arena's living, wooden automatons. At first, his strikes were standard—rigid, precise, and identical to traditional close-quarters sword combat.
But then, with a sharp flick of his wrist, Valkriea watched in awe as the blade suddenly separated into interlocking segments, extending instantly into a bladed whip. Vergil's entire fighting style transformed in the blink of an eye. The rigid, disciplined stances vanished, replaced by an incredibly fluid, graceful, yet lethally dangerous dance. Valkriea and a few lingering monsters watched in absolute mesmerization as Vergil shifted effortlessly from a stoic swordsman to a highly evasive, hyper-flexible combatant, whipping the blade around in devastating, unpredictable arcs.
Valkriea tapped her earpiece. "Freya? Did Vergil ever mention that he knows how to wield completely bizarre weapons?"
"What kind of weapon are you talking about?" Freya's voice crackled back over the comms.
"It looks like a short sword, but it just extended into a whip," Valkriea replied, utterly fascinated by the display.
"Ah, he finished it," Freya said, a warm smile evident in her voice. "The children and I are heading down to the training room right now."
Moments later, Freya and her family arrived at the viewing gallery. They watched as Vergil flawlessly alternated between the rigid, defensive parries of a short sword and the sprawling, fluid, assassin-like strikes of the whip form, completely dominating the automaton.
"It has been a long time since I have seen your father move quite like this," Freya murmured affectionately.
"Dad always gets incredibly fired up whenever he trains with unconventional weapons," Mina observed, resting her arms on the railing.
"To be fair," Lira added, her eyes darting back and forth as she frantically took notes, "even when he uses standard weapons, he operates at 500% efficiency. I am trying to memorize and mimic his footwork right now."
Beside her, Sylvy just nodded silently in absolute agreement, her eyes locked on her father's masterful display.
Vergil quickly concluded his training with the unique weapon. "Exit," he commanded, and was instantly teleported out of the arena.
As the magical light faded, he looked around in confusion, surprised to find his wife, all five of his daughters, and Valkriea gathered in the viewing area. "Why are you all here?" he asked.
Freya smiled warmly. "We were all watching you train with that new sword."
Vergil chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck humbly. "Honestly, I still prefer a standard sixty-centimeter katana or a pair of katars. I am simply much more accustomed to them."
Creed, who happened to be walking past the corridor, paused and asked what the commotion was about. When Freya explained that Vergil had just been testing a Snake Sword, Creed merely sighed, his expression completely unfazed.
Mina frowned, misinterpreting her uncle's lack of surprise. "Was Dad's technique flawed?"
Creed shook his head. "Not at all. It is just that several of the ornamental weapons mounted in the royal palace's training room are actually Snake Swords. They just sit there gathering dust because no one bothers to touch them, or they simply cannot master them properly."
Vergil nodded in agreement. "It is true. The sword is an incredibly versatile class of weapon with countless variations. Sometimes, a blade's true power or its alternate form remains entirely hidden until it is wielded by someone who understands it."
"When I get some time off, I am heading straight back to the palace to train with those weapons seriously," Mina declared, a fire igniting in her eyes. Beside her, Lira and Sylvy nodded emphatically in agreement.
Just then, Aria and Chloe burst into the training room, slightly out of breath. "Did we miss something?" Aria asked, looking between her parents and sisters.
Mina, Lira, and Sylvy immediately burst into laughter.
"We will explain everything later," Freya promised with a gentle wave of her hand.
Vergil clapped his hands together, shifting seamlessly back into management mode. "Alright, it is best we all head back to our posts before the dungeon gets overwhelmed." Following their mother's instructions, the girls quickly dispersed to their assigned stations, while Valkriea hurried off to restock her designated treasure chests.
Back in the control room, Vergil turned to Anastasya. "Where are Hydra and his party right now?"
"They have settled down to rest in the Safe Room," Anastasya reported, checking the surveillance feed on the magic mirror. "Based on their conversations, they plan to push into Level 6 tomorrow."
A wicked, calculating idea crossed Vergil's mind. "Is it possible to seamlessly teleport them directly to one of the deepest boss rooms that we are not currently using?"
Anastasya raised a delicate eyebrow. "I can certainly do that from the control panel. But what in-game logic would we use to justify such a sudden displacement?"
Freya, overhearing the conversation, walked over. "What if they trigger a hidden, randomized teleportation trap?"
Anastasya's eyes lit up with a mischievous gleam. "That is a brilliant idea. We can even use this incident to spread a terrifying new rumor: that a highly dangerous, rogue Assassin is prowling the lower floors of the dungeon, dragging unsuspecting adventurers into the depths."
The following day, after purchasing a fresh stock of potions and eating a hearty breakfast, Hydra and his party descended to Level 6. Gideon's party followed suit shortly after finalizing their own preparations, alongside the two other adventuring parties who had tagged along out of sheer curiosity.
At the crossroads, Hydra announced that his group would take the left path, while Gideon opted for the right. The two remaining parties chose the straight paths, venturing blindly into the unknown. The atmosphere on this floor was incredibly oppressive—a sprawling, eerie graveyard stretching out in every direction under a gloom-filled sky.
Hydra's party advanced cautiously, exploring the burial grounds. The countless tombstones they passed bore strange, unfamiliar runes and bizarre dates.
"I feel sorry for whoever is buried here," the Assassin muttered, shivering slightly in the cold air.
"Whether they were taken by plague or murdered in cold blood, it is a tragic fate all the same," the Cleric agreed softly.
Eventually, they stumbled into what appeared to be an old, ruined dining hall. Sitting conspicuously in the center of the room was a single treasure chest. As the party entered, the Assassin's eyes lit up, and she immediately darted toward it.
"Don't be reckless, check for traps first!" Hydra warned.
Ignoring him, the Assassin pulled out her tools and swiftly picked the lock, popping the heavy lid open.
"What is inside?" Hydra asked, keeping his guard up.
"Healing potions," the Assassin replied, pulling one out to inspect it. "But... they aren't normal healing potions." She turned the bottle around, revealing a neatly written label that read: Caramel Macchiato.
The rest of the party stared at the bottle in sheer, unadulterated confusion, having absolutely no idea what those words meant. Hydra, however, was dumbfounded for a completely different reason. His mind raced. Why on earth does a Caramel Macchiato flavor exist in this fantasy world?!
Before Hydra could process the absurdity, the Cleric took a step forward—and a hidden runic trap flared to life beneath her boots.
In a blinding flash of teleportation magic, Hydra and his entire party were ripped from the dining hall and forcefully materialized deep within an unknown, cavernous chamber.
Standing dead ahead of them was a solitary figure clad entirely in black. The mysterious assassin wielded a beautifully crafted short sword, its hilt adorned with a massive, glowing purple gemstone.
"Who are you?" Hydra demanded, gripping his sword tightly.
The mysterious figure remained completely silent, merely tilting his head slightly to the left in a chilling display of apathy.
Refusing to be intimidated, Hydra's Assassin named Shylvia lunged forward, initiating the combat with a lethal strike. The figure in black smoothly sidestepped her attack without breaking a sweat and instantly countered. In a blinding blur of motion, he completely neutralized her. His blade moved with such terrifying precision that it shredded her armor and clothing to ribbons, leaving her battered, stripped of her gear, and completely unconscious on the stone floor.
Panicking, Hydra barked an order. "Magda, lay down covering fire! Mira, grab our Assassin!"
The Mage immediately began chanting, unleashing her most powerful offensive spells. But the mysterious assassin effortlessly danced through the magical barrage, evading every single blast as he closed the distance to Hydra in the blink of an eye.
The two warriors clashed in a fierce exchange of blows. Hydra was quickly forced on the defensive, jumping back as he realized his heavy chestplate had been deeply scored by strikes he hadn't even perceived.
The figure in black pressed the attack. Suddenly, with a sharp flick of his wrist, the rigid short sword separated into interlocking segments, transforming into a bladed whip. The invisible, unpredictable attack patterns that had just overwhelmed Hydra suddenly made terrifying sense. They were facing an adversary wielding an incredibly complex and lethal weapon.
The mysterious assassin attacked again, his movements even more fluid, graceful, and devastating than before. Hydra gritted his teeth, desperately trying to parry the relentless, sweeping arcs of the whip-sword.
From the backline, the Cleric signaled that she had hoisted the unconscious Assassin onto her back.
"Fall back!" Hydra roared, deliberately drawing all of the enemy's concentrated attacks onto himself. "Retreat to the surface immediately! Go!"
The Mage and the Cleric didn't hesitate, bolting for the escape stairs at the back of the chamber. Left alone, Hydra focused entirely on surviving the onslaught. But the figure in black found an opening and delivered a devastating, concentrated kick directly to Hydra's armored chest.
The sheer force of the blow launched the Hero backward, sending him tumbling violently until he crashed right at the base of the escape stairs, his sword clattering out of his grasp.
Gasping for breath, Hydra scrambled to his feet, snatched his fallen sword from the ground, and sprinted desperately up the stairs toward the surface. As he ran for his life, a chilling realization washed over him: the mysterious assassin hadn't missed a fatal blow.
He had intentionally let Hydra pick up his weapon and run away.
Meanwhile, the entirety of Vergil's skirmish as the mysterious assassin against the Hero's party had been broadcast live to the Monster Hall. The dungeon's denizens had watched the spectacle with rapt attention and roaring enthusiasm. The moment Vergil teleported back into the hall, he was completely swarmed by his employees.
The Orc King pushed his way to the front, demanding to know how it was physically possible for a rigid short sword to suddenly become a whip. Beside him, a towering Ghost Knight remarked that the Boss's weapon was incredibly unorthodox, but expressed a deep desire to study its movements. Several Oni, proud swordsmen in their own right, eagerly crowded around, asking for the weapon's name and the secret behind wielding it so gracefully.
Vergil chuckled, resting the dormant Snake Sword over his shoulder. "Let's just say it is a secret technique of mine. I have a habit of mastering the bizarre and the unconventional."
The Ghost Knight tilted his spectral head. "But Boss, what happens if we eventually encounter an adventurer wielding a weapon like that down in the labyrinth?"
"Then I will teach you exactly how to defeat it," Vergil promised with a confident smirk. "I will personally train all of you on how to defend against and counter the very weapon I just used."
The Monster Hall erupted into thunderous cheers. The monsters were absolutely thrilled, their spirits ignited by the prospect of actively training against such unique, unpredictable weaponry.