The stench of blood and ozone still clung to Nero's armor as the surviving adventurers stared at him with a mix of terror and reverence.

*Drip... drip...*

Draion blood pooled beneath his boots, the viscous fluid hissing slightly as it reacted with the dungeon's ambient mana.

The massive corpse behind him continued twitching occasionally, its death throes finally settling into stillness.

"You..."

The scarred party leader finally found his voice.

A grizzled bear of a man, easily 6'3" with an eyepatch covering his left socket and more scars than intact skin decorating his exposed arms.

His weathered face carried the kind of damage that spoke to decades of brutal combat experience.

"You just tore through those B-tiers like they were goblin fodder."

Gorrak's voice cracked slightly, thick fingers trembling as they grasped Nero's bloodied gauntlet with desperate gratitude.

"And then that monster..."

He couldn't finish.

The memory of watching Nero dismantle a mysterious monster beyond what they could definitely handle was still vivid in his mind.

*Gulp.*

In the end, the man could only gulp as he looked at the grotesque appearance of the mysterious monster corpse that he and his team had never faced before.

"... J-Just how were you able to deal with that monster?"

The raw emotion in his expression made several other party members approve in their hearts.

A sharp-nosed elven scout with silver hair tied in a practical ponytail and a perpetual smirk stepped forward.

Her bow still trembled slightly in her hands despite her obvious attempts at composure.

"C-Call me Myra," she said, her analytical eyes studying Nero with the intensity of someone trying to solve an impossible puzzle. "And Gorrak's not exaggerating… We would've died by that thing if it weren't for you… The dungeons these days ain't normal lately."

She demonstrated by pulling out a corrupted monster core from her satchel, the crystalline sphere pulsing with black veins that writhed like living things instead of the usual stable blue mana patterns.

"Found this in a C-tier last week. That's A-tier corruption."

*Buzz...*

The core's energy made the air around it vibrate unnaturally, creating visible distortions.

Nero's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized every detail of the dark tainted orb in the girl's hand.

And one thing he could definitely notice is the way the dark energy flowed in chaotic patterns rather than orderly circuits.

The frequency of the mana pulses suggests that there's a deliberate manipulation rather than natural mutation.

The faint trace of something else... something that resonated with patterns he'd seen before.

'The Obsidian Covenant.'

There's no way he would forget it.

That same dark energy is one he could feel from Vincent when he fought him at that time.

A dwarf blacksmith named Brumli stepped up beside Myra, his muscles like steel cables beneath his singed leather apron.

Despite the dire circumstances, his voice carried a laugh that could shatter glass.

"Aye! Me forge's been busier than a dragon in heat!"

He held up his runic hammer, the weapon's surface marked with fresh dents that shouldn't exist on properly enchanted equipment.

"Look at this! Three weeks ago, this beauty could crack dragon scales without a scratch. Now it gets dented by B-tier claws! Something's screwing with the leylines, making everything stronger and nastier."

"The mana density's all wrong," a mage in their party added nervously, her staff's crystal flickering erratically. "Standard spells are consuming 30% more energy for the same output. It's like the ambient magic is fighting us."

Nero processed this information rapidly, his enhanced perception connecting dots that painted a troubling picture.

Corrupted cores.

Evolved monsters.

Destabilized leylines.

All symptoms of systematic magical interference on a massive scale.

"It's an inner working of a dark group that's for sure." he muttered, the casual proclamation made the temperature seem to drop.

"!!!"

Every single adventurer flinched at the mention.

*Ptui!*

Gorrak spat black phlegm onto the dungeon floor, the substance sizzling slightly on contact with stone.

"I heard there's some weird movements going on with the monsters these days, so it turns out I was right then!."

His one good eye fixed on Nero with grim intensity.

"But that's not the worst news."

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that somehow felt more ominous than his earlier shouts.

"The Inquisition's coming. Their entire bloody crusade force. Word is they're meeting with the King of Heroes himself… something about a prophecy and a holy war."

"!!!"

Frila gasped audibly, her spatial barriers flickering in time with her racing heart as the implications crashed down.

The Inquisition.

The same religious organization that had allowed fraud to flourish in their ranks.

The same institution whose corruption had cost Felt's mother her life.

And they were coming here, to Legendor, with their full military might.

Velraeth's reaction was entirely different.

Her ember eyes gleamed with predatory interest, vertical pupils dilating as her tail lashed with obvious excitement.

"A crusade force? How many strong fighters are we talking about?"

"Hundreds," Myra replied, her smirk faltering. "Maybe thousands. They're mobilizing everything. Paladins, templars, battle priests, war clerics. Every militant orders under their banner."

"And they're meeting with Arthur Pendragon to discuss prophecy," Brumli added with obvious concern. "That ain't no social call. That's preparation for something big and bloody."

The other adventurers murmured nervously, their fear palpable.

But Nero...

"..."

He simply smiled.

That infuriatingly calm expression that made his face look almost serene despite being covered in monster blood.

His hand came up casually, wiping Draion viscera from his cheek with a practiced motion.

"Perfect. That's exactly why we came."

"... What?" Gorrak blinked in confusion.

The statement was so unexpected, so contrary to the logical response of concern or alarm, that it took several seconds to process.

Nero's true goal crystallized in that moment, his strategic mind seeing opportunities where others saw only threats.

Not just training in dungeons to accelerate his development.

Not just gathering intelligence about the merged world's power structures.

But positioning himself at the center of the coming storm.

Making connections. Building reputation. Establishing his presence before the major players made their moves.

The Obsidian Covenant was moving east.

The Inquisition was mobilizing their crusade force.

Arthur Pendragon was preparing for something that required meeting with religious militants.

All of it converging on Legendor at the same time.

'Perfect timing indeed.'

His confidence seemed to fill the cavern more oppressively than the Draion's presence had, making the adventurers unconsciously take half-steps backward.

"... You're not just some random strong guy, are you?" Myra whispered, her mind finally piecing together the implications of his reaction.

No normal adventurer would hear about an incoming religious crusade and smile like that.

No sane person would describe convergence of multiple catastrophic threats as "perfect."

This man was either insane, supremely confident, or involved in something far larger than a simple dungeon dive.

Nero's grin widened slightly, showing teeth.

He bent down and plucked the corrupted core from Myra's trembling hands, tossing it casually to Frila.

"Put that in a crystal jar. We'll want to study it later."

*Whoosh!*

Frila caught it reflexively, her spatial manipulation already forming a containment field as she produced a crystal container from her pack.

The corrupted core settled inside, its black veins pulsing ominously against the transparent walls.

"Let's just say I'm collecting insurance policies," Nero replied to Myra's question with deliberate vagueness.

He turned to leave, his bloodied boots making soft squelching sounds against the dungeon floor.

But he paused at the tunnel entrance, his silhouette framed by lingering smoke and the eerie bioluminescent fungi that lined the cavern walls.

The dramatic lighting made him look almost ethereal despite the gore coating his armor.

"If you value your lives, stay out of the northeast dungeons for the next few days."

His voice carried absolute certainty, the kind of warning that came from knowledge rather than speculation.

"Things are about to get... interesting."

*Step... step... step...*

The group vanished into the shadows, Velraeth's tail the last thing visible before darkness swallowed them completely.

"..."

Complete silence fell over the surviving adventurers.

They stood frozen in the gore-splattered cavern, processing what had just happened.

Saved by a mysterious fighter who treated A-tier threats like training exercises.

Warned about incoming catastrophes by someone who seemed excited rather than concerned.

Left with more questions than answers about who exactly they'd just met.

'Just who is that guy?'

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