Is It Wrong To Level Up In A Dungeon?

Chapter 15. No Running This Time

A single minute.

Bell's body blurred.

In a ruthless display of speed and precision, he tore through the knights, his attacks carving through armor like paper.

POW!

SLAM!

The battlefield was his.

But it wasn't enough.

His breath came shallow and sharp, sweat dripping down his temple. The enemies were respawning faster than he could kill them.

[Passive Skill: Tenacity has been activated.]

He twisted, narrowly avoiding a halberd that nearly split him in two. His thoughts raced. The teleportation stone... should I use it?

For a fleeting moment, hesitation clawed at his mind. If Ais found out he'd run, what would she think?

...But then he laughed. Who cares? At the end of the day, my life is worth more than anyone's approval.

His gaze flicked to the timer. Only six minutes had passed.

A sudden impact.

A knight's weapon struck true, sending him crashing to the dungeon floor. Pain flared through his body as the ringing in his ears grew louder.

He gritted his teeth.

This was far from over.

Bell gritted his teeth as he forced himself up, his arms trembling under the weight of exhaustion. His legs burned, his body screamed at him to stop, but he couldn't afford to collapse now.

Clang!

He barely managed to block a knight's sword, his dagger straining against the force. Another came from the side—he twisted, dodging by a hair's breadth, his breath ragged.

Then, amidst the chaos, he heard it.

A voice.

His own.

"You're struggling again."

Bell's eyes widened.

Beside him stood someone—no, himself. A shorter version, a boy with wide, uncertain eyes. The old Bell Cranel.

Bell clenched his fists and turned back to the fight. He couldn't let himself get distracted.

But the younger Bell didn't let up.

"You're still the same," he continued, his voice laced with condescension. "The same weak boy who needed Ais to save him. The same fool who thought he could catch up to her."

Bell felt something twist in his chest.

Shut up...

"You pretend you've changed, but look at you." His old self gestured at him with a disappointed look. "Barely standing, thinking about running away. You still have a long way to go."

Bell's grip tightened on his weapon. His breathing steadied, his vision sharpening.

He glared at his past self.

"Then I'll keep going," he muttered. "I don't care how long it takes. I will become stronger."

The old Bell gave him a knowing smirk before fading into nothingness.

The battlefield roared back into focus.

Bell exhaled, raised his weapon, and charged.

A translucent screen flickered into Bell's vision, sharp and intrusive.