The air, pungent with iron, a deep, crawling iron that seeped into even the tightest crevices wafted into my nostrils.
I entered the room, Ares following in pursuit.
It was a large, expansive room, though its structure didn't seem to make much sense to me.
Chamber 1 was the throne room, Chamber 2 was a corridor, Chamber 3 was yet another hallway only this time it was a control room, Chamber 4 was a staircase down.
And chamber 5 was a training hall, a training hall with a white headed fella in the center.
Taking the castle from before entering the dungeon, this castle was vastly different in its rooms.
Not that it mattered of course.
But the soil placed here just... Seemed weird.
I turn to face Ares.
"Careful, he's stronger than he should—"
"Intruders..."
The boss, sitting before, stood up at our presence.
His red, glowing eyes seemed particularly locked onto mine.
Boots rustled against the floor. The gate tethered to a rhetorical close, isolating us inside with the vampire.
I didn't bother with the stealth since he could see right through it anyway.
As he spoke, both me and Ares slowly positioned ourselves to his sides. Close, but not too close to him.
The boss kept speaking, his voice low, yet loud enough to reach us.
"To impede on our paradise... Our cusp, our fortress.."
"Our Freedom!" He growled, his sharp teeth were brandished, saliva trickled to his chin.
He took a step forward... towards me.
A single step was all it took, it was all it took to set the pace of the battle.
He was slow at first, like a small bite to taste test, the second step though felt like he took massive crunch at his meal.
Being upon me, his fist chained with his torso, landing squarely on my gut.
Thwaaam!
I was sent to the nearest wall in an instant, coughing up a mouthful of blood.
I clutched my stomach as I forced myself to sit upright, pretending to sway left and right.
The strike was strong, more powerful than I, as a regressor wanted to admit.
But that strike had left the vampire wide open. Allowing Ares to close in instantly and slash diagonally.
The vampire, unable to dodge it fully, twisted to the side, permitting the strike to chip off a large chunk of flesh.
The squelching flesh landed on the floor. The vampire took several paces back.
Silence.
Air filled with crippling silence. None of us moved.
We were at a standstill. The vampire couldn't accurately gauge our strength.
He was overthinking the battlefield.
He was thinking that I was pretending to be weak, that there was no conceivable way for me to reach this far unless I was strong.
That I was trying to sell the idea of being a weak, puny human carried by a truck. Only to reveal my SSS-Rank strength to his face when he least expected it.
Or at least, that's what should be running through his head.
Fred Lamburgh.
He was a vampire with many flaws, his mistress, La. Always said he overthought everything.
That was why as a character, he was interesting to the player base, each attack he did was riddled with caution, overthinking that dulled his combat abilities.
Just because he grew stronger with a dungeon rank increase didn't mean he was suddenly better at fighting.
He just was stronger than usual, and we were more de-buffed than usual.
Our strength in the dungeon couldn't exceed more than half.
This was also primarily because of the curse the goddess of the sky limited me so much.
Unless you were capable of adapting fast, you were done.
Honestly, the hate I was under by that goddess was nothing but unfair!
Like what?! You mean to tell me that there is someone so petty in this world that they'd inflict a curse this bad on someone?
'This is why people in power shouldn't exist.'
They abuse it too much!
"Cough! Cough!" The dust kicked up from my crash land elicited a cough out of me.
The vampire capitalized on my moment of distraction and closed in on Ares.
Planting his right foot on the ground, Fred twisted his other leg into a roundhouse kick.
Thud—!
Ares blocked it, albeit with more stress scratching onto his face.
The roundhouse kick was a big move, a flashy move, powerful and fast.
However.
"...!"
If your opponent was fast, it left a massive opening in your guard.
A massive gap that would be fatal for bare handed opponents.
Ares closed in, slithering his arm that blocked the kick around Fred's shin close to his thigh.
His sword, black as a bedroom with no light inside, thrusted inside Fred's abdomen.
Fred, took the strike with open arms.
His muscles contracted around the blade, gripping it tightly.
With a grunt, Fred slammed his clenched fist into Ares's jaw.
The strike was devastating, the sound of bone breaking echoed in the room.
Ares only staggered back a bit. Disoriented by the strike.
"Tsk!" He clicked his tongue, frustrated by the obvious threat to his life.
Gripping onto the blade, Ares plunged it even deeper, twisting like it were a key.
"Akg!" Fred groaned, his elongated fingers tried to grasp the throat of his enemy.
It was too late for him however, as Ares pressed a foot on his stomach. He pushed Fred away, freeing his blade from the threat.
That wasn't the end of it, as the next moment shifted and the next boon of the fight entered.
"Gaagh!" Fred's eyes shot wide at the foreign silver piercing him from the throat to his mouth.
His arms flailed, his torso twisting to meet me.
I chuckle. A smile forged on my lips as a tactical retreat was performed. My words a venom to his pride.
"Aww~ You crushed your own spine just to try to kill me? How sweet, truly baffled by the lengths you'd go to kill little old me."
Fred wheezed, on the ground, disabled, clearly mad about getting hit by a cheap silver blade like mine that I flicked his burning blood off of.
His wound from the cheap silver blade would take about 26 seconds to recover.
Not a lot of time of course, but enough to allow us to really destroy his dignity.
We didn't let him recover, or well Ares didn't let him recover, as soon after, he stabbed the vampire like a maniac.
"AGKKHKH!!!!!!" In pain, Fred wailed with a heart wrenching scream that violated my ears.
"Phase 2 then?" To my mutters, Fred, the ever beautiful mess he was answered with a righteous yes.
All his wounds started to recover, all except the one done from the silver blade I had bought from the Hunters Association.
A wave of blood rushed to him from the ground and ceiling, they seemed to seep in from the cracks in the structure itself rather than going through the structure.
It coated Fred, shaping itself in a blood armor reminiscent of what gladiators wore.
A waterfall of blood coalesced in his hands, forming into a dense spear of blood.
Ready to crush anyone coming too close.
Ares brandished his dark blade while I hid behind him, in the shadow of his bulging strength.
Ready to strike whenever the chance teetered to me.