Is It Wrong To Level Up In A Dungeon?

The three Minotaurs loomed before Bell, their hulking forms barely illuminated by the dim, flickering glow of the Dungeon. Their crimson eyes burned with primal fury, muscles rippling beneath their thick hides as they let out guttural roars.

But Bell...

Bell only exhaled, his daggers steady in his grip. His heart was calm.

These creatures—these monsters—were nothing to him anymore.

The first Minotaur lunged, its massive arm swinging like a battering ram. Bell didn't dodge.

He didn't need to.

SCHING!

In an instant, Bell surged forward, his blade carving through muscle and bone. The Minotaur's arm separated from its body, spinning through the air in a grotesque arc before landing with a sickening thud.

The beast didn't even have time to scream.

Bell moved faster than its pain could register, his second dagger driving straight through its skull. A splatter of hot blood misted the air as the Minotaur's body collapsed, twitching violently before going still.

The remaining two hesitated—just for a second.

Bell grinned. Too slow.

He vanished.

A blur of white and black cut through the dungeon as Bell weaved between them, his speed overwhelming. The second Minotaur barely had time to react before Bell's dagger slashed across its knees, severing tendons with ruthless precision.

It howled, dropping to all fours—only for Bell to flip onto its back, his grip tightening.

CRACK!

With inhuman strength, he wrenched its head to the side, snapping its neck with a brutal twist. The body fell limp beneath him as he pushed off, his next target already in sight.

The final Minotaur let out an enraged roar, raising both fists high before slamming them down in a desperate attempt to crush him.

BOOM!

The ground cracked under the impact. Dust and debris exploded into the air—

But Bell was already above it.

A sharp whistle cut through the air as he descended, his blade gleaming. The Minotaur looked up—just in time to see death rushing toward it.

SPLAT!

Bell's dagger rammed through its skull, piercing clean through and out the other side. Blood gushed as the monster twitched, its massive body convulsing before crumbling to the ground, lifeless.

Silence.

Bell exhaled, flicking his wrist. A spray of crimson arced from his blade, splattering against the dungeon walls.

He stared at the carnage around him.

Mutilated.

That was the only word for what he had done to them.

The Bell Cranel of the past would have struggled. Would have hesitated.

But now?

Now, these things were nothing but obstacles to be cut down.

And he was more than willing to do so.

In the mid-levels of the Dungeon, Ryuu and Asfi moved as twin blades through the darkness, cutting down Almiraj and Hellhounds with ruthless efficiency. The clash of steel against flesh and the sharp cries of dying monsters echoed through the cavernous halls, but neither warrior slowed. They fought with purpose, each movement honed by experience.