Orcini stepped forward, drew his blade, and assumed a combat stance, simultaneously stopping the accompanying mage from speaking any further.
"The unsmiling type, huh? A hereditary baron like myself indeed isn't worthy of a salute from a warrior like you. Then let us decide this with a sacred duel."
Joseph's green eyes glanced at Orcini. He slowly stood up, steel clackers connected by a string dangling from his hands.
*'I can't understand a single word this guy is saying. People from another world are so hard to understand. Good thing this whole group didn't rush me at once, otherwise I'd have no choice but to run away.'*
*'Looks like I won't get the chance to use the Joestar family's secret technique, Nigerundayo. Guess I'll just have to fight fair and square.'*
*'These old bones haven't experienced a proper fight in a long time. I hope I can still hold up.'*
*'Of course I can hold up. This is a body that has eaten an Enchanted Golden Apple, after all.'*
Responding to the unchanging with the ever-changing, and the ever-changing with the unchanging—that was Joseph's fighting style.
Orcini attacked quickly with his sword. Warriors in this world emphasized being faster and stronger, rarely using energy for their attacks.
Joseph easily saw through the straightforward sword path. He leaped high into the air, the steel clackers in his hands spinning rapidly, golden Hamon energy hidden within.
A ranged attack, functioning much like a bola. Driven by kinetic energy, the string quickly wrapped around the sword blade and made contact with Orcini's skin.
*'Hamon!'*
This sun-like energy dealt massive damage to vampires. Although it lacked that special effectiveness against ordinary humans, it was still something akin to internal energy.
Carrying Joseph's will, the Hamon temporarily paralyzed Orcini's diaphragm, expelling all the air from his lungs.
When the diaphragm stopped working, the first problem a person faced was the inability to breathe. A body lacking oxygen would rapidly deteriorate and lose its strength, a fatal flaw for a warrior.
*'Magic? No, it's some kind of technique. My anti-magic defenses weren't triggered.'* Orcini thought rapidly, his consciousness gradually blurring from the depleting oxygen.
*'If I can't think, then I'll trust my instincts. I'll trust the results of my rigorously tempered training. That is the only thing that will never betray me.'*
His body moved on its own. Joseph subconsciously gave a sound of approval, dodging the attack. His Stand, Hermit Purple, wrapped in Hamon, struck Orcini's abdomen, dispelling the negative effect.
*'That counts as clearing it.'* The Seven Curses dungeon didn't require overwhelming combat power, but it absolutely demanded strong willpower. This guy had the resolve to fight; Joseph could see that.
Taking out a Lever, he followed Zenith's instructions, placing it on the wall and pulling it down. Accompanied by the sound of a Piston activating, a two-by-five-meter entrance opened up in the central floor.
Orcini half-crouched, taking several deep breaths before finally standing up. The accompanying mage and guards hurried over.
"My lord?"
"I'm fine." Orcini looked at Joestar, who had sat back down, and couldn't help but sigh. "He's strong. It reminds me of facing my swordsmanship instructor when I was a child. He rendered me completely powerless with just one move."
The accompanying mage shook his head. "No matter how strong he is, it's meaningless. For such a master to not join the battlefield and instead do something so pointless here... this old man truly cannot understand it."
Perhaps everyone just had their own ambitions. The group grandly descended into the dungeon. Joseph peeked over, confirmed they were gone, and stealthily stood up to enter the hidden room.
Air conditioning, a computer, ice-cold cola, and a half-eaten hamburger resting on the desk.
"Good grief, that many people scared me to death. Not being able to understand what they're saying always makes me panic."
He skillfully turned on the computer and started playing games.
"Whatever, once they go inside, it has nothing to do with me anymore. Games are so fun. Days without experiencing a domestic warzone are wonderful. Zenith is such a great guy."
Expecting the old man to just sit dryly and guard the door was unrealistic. Behind this secret room was a portal connecting to the Overworld. The power and internet cables were also routed all the way from the Overworld.
An otherworldly private internet cafe—you're worth it.
On the other side, Orcini's squad also began their battles. The first floor consisted of the most common Minecraft mobs: Zombies, Spiders, and Skeletons.
Generated by a mob grinder, transported by Minecarts on Rails, and seamlessly shipped from the Overworld to the dungeon.
Real, existing monsters wouldn't just despawn on their own. The SPW Foundation staff would also restock them regularly, manually completing the dungeon's mob respawns.
"To think they are all undead creatures. Did some powerful necromancer once reside here?"
There were no major casualties, only two unlucky guards who got shot in the gaps of their armor by the Skeletons' arrows. Aside from those two, everyone else was unharmed.
"My lord, this is the loot we gathered from the surroundings!"
Two sets of ordinary but ridiculously heavy Chainmail Armor, an enchanted Iron Sword, and a few sprouted potatoes.
Orcini's face gradually darkened. "Is this it? We made such a big show of rushing over here, and the dungeon only has this garbage?"
The accompanying mage shook his head and walked straight to a corner of the floor, next to a collapsed pillar. "My lord, these so-called spoils are just a smokescreen. Truly valuable items require a mage to detect."
He pried an egg-sized medal off the pillar. Its outer contour resembled a pair of bat wings, with a blood-red broken sword in the middle.
"In the eyes of a mage proficient in mana detection, this thing is as obvious as a candle in the dark."
Orcini took the medal. A wave of obscure, incomprehensible murmurs rushed directly into his mind, swirling in his brain and leaving behind vague information.
He stumbled, and after being supported by the mage, slowly recalled the message left in his mind.
*'So strong.'* It had to be known that mages and priests could already cast various buffs on warriors, but this magical item could actually synchronize and further amplify those buffs.
This way, as long as the user's own strength was above average, they could practically take on a hundred men alone, slaying enemy generals and capturing their flags!
"Do you know anything about this Seven Curses?"
The mage shook his head. "I haven't heard of any records of it, but this old man is certain the answer lies at the very bottom of the dungeon. There is a deep and terrifying magical aura down there. It must be the so-called Seven Curses."
Power. As long as he had power, he could repel the demon race, defeat that brother of his who was always one step ahead, and inherit the glory of the Eisenhem family.
This second son had his own ambitions, as well as his own stubborn persistence. The Seven Curses had already been internally claimed as his property.
"Everyone, advance to the next floor! The demons are besieging the city, and morale is low. We don't have much time left!"
And he, Orcini Eisenhem, would save the city as a surprise force descending from the heavens, standing before his father as a hero!
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