Knowledge Is Power: The Last Reader

The entrance to the cavern looked less like the mouth of a dungeon and more like the wound of something impossibly large.

Cold air drifted out in slow, steady breaths, carrying the smell of damp stone... and iron.

Not fresh blood.

Old blood.

The scent that lingered long after flesh had rotted away, seeping into rock until the earth itself seemed unable to forget it.

Milo stopped several paces from the entrance.

The fog of the Ashfen Marches clung stubbornly to the ground outside, but none of it crossed the threshold. It was as though even the mist had decided this place belonged to something else.

"...Interesting."

He crouched.

The mud beneath his boots wasn’t disturbed by monster tracks.

Only human ones.

Many of them.

Different sizes.

Different boots.

Some recent.

Most old.

All heading inward.

Very few returning.

His gaze followed the trail until it disappeared into darkness before shifting toward the objects half-buried around the entrance.

At first glance they looked like ordinary debris.

They weren’t.

A tower shield leaned against a boulder, split perfectly down the middle. The cut was so clean that both halves still rested upright, as though they hadn’t yet realized they were no longer one piece.

Nearby lay the remains of a greatsword.

Calling it broken felt inadequate.

The blade had been snapped almost effortlessly a handspan above the guard, the fractured steel twisted into a spiral that no human strength should have been capable of producing.

Farther in...

Armor.

Not discarded.

Flattened.

A breastplate had been crushed inward until the metal met itself.

Milo stared at it for a long moment.

There had once been a man inside.

There wasn’t enough space left for one now.

His expression remained calm, but his mind had already begun assembling the scene.

Not a massacre.

A sequence.

Someone had blocked.

Someone else had charged.

A third had attempted to flank.

Disciplined.

Experienced.

They hadn’t panicked.

They had simply...

Failed.

One after another.

He rose slowly.

"Veterans."

Not recruits.

Not overconfident nobles playing adventurer.

Veterans.

Which meant one uncomfortable truth.

If they had lost...

He was walking into a fight that should be impossible.

The thought failed to discourage him.

Quite the opposite.

Impossible things were merely problems with incomplete information.

---

The cavern swallowed light.

Only a faint gray glow from the entrance remained behind him, stretching his shadow across uneven stone before darkness devoured it completely.

Each footstep echoed farther than it should have.

The ceiling climbed higher.

The walls widened.

Whoever—or whatever—had carved this place possessed neither patience nor subtlety.

Everything here had been made by force.

The farther he walked, the quieter the world became.

No insects.

No dripping water.

No distant monster calls.

Silence.

Not peaceful silence.

Expectant silence.

Like an audience waiting for a performance to begin.

Milo’s fingers rested lightly on the hilt of his sword.

Not gripping.

Ready.

His breathing slowed instinctively.

One inhale.

One exhale.

Steady.

Then...

The tunnel opened.

The chamber beyond was enormous.

Ancient stone pillars reached upward like the trunks of petrified trees, disappearing into darkness high overhead. The floor bore countless fractures, each one deep enough to swallow a horse.

And at the very center...

Something moved.

No.

Something shifted.

The distinction mattered.

Mountains didn’t move.

They settled.

This thing settled.

Stone groaned beneath its weight.

Dust drifted lazily from the ceiling as though gravity itself needed a moment to adjust.

Only then did Milo fully understand its size.

It wasn’t merely tall.

It dominated space.

Standing upright, it would have rivaled the cavern itself.

Gray skin stretched over muscles that resembled weathered cliffs more than flesh, every scar looking less like a wound and more like the aftermath of forgotten wars.

Resting beside it lay a weapon.

Calling it a club would have been technically correct.

Calling it a tree someone had forgotten to remove the branches from would have been more accurate.

The creature opened one eye.

Amber.

Cold.

Ancient.

It looked at Milo.

Then slowly around the chamber.

As though searching for someone else.

Finally...

It sighed.

"...Only one?"

Its voice rolled through the cavern with enough force to shake loose pebbles from the ceiling.

"I expected another company."

Milo remained silent.

The creature’s gaze narrowed.

"You’re smaller than the last."

Its enormous head tilted.

"Smaller than the ones before that."

Another pause.

"Do kingdoms no longer produce warriors?"

It laughed.

The sound resembled landslides.

"I remember when they sent heroes."

Pressure settled over the cavern.

Invisible.

Unmistakable.

Every instinct Milo possessed screamed the same warning.

Run.

His heart accelerated.

His muscles tightened.

Even breathing felt strangely difficult.

Fear.

Pure.

Ancient.

Not his own.

The creature wasn’t releasing mana.

It wasn’t casting magic.

It merely...

Existed.

Its presence alone pressed against the minds of weaker creatures until instinct mistook surrender for wisdom.

Milo closed his eyes.

One breath.

Then another.

Fear wasn’t irrational.

Fear was information.

His body had detected overwhelming danger.

Useful.

Acknowledged.

Filed away.

Then ignored.

When he opened his eyes again, the pressure remained.

It simply no longer mattered.

"I was expecting someone larger," Milo admitted.

The giant blinked.

"You can speak."

"I generally find conversations more productive that way."

Silence.

Then...

To Milo’s mild surprise...

The giant laughed again.

Longer this time.

"Interesting."

The amber eye studied him with something approaching curiosity.

"The little one isn’t brave."

"No."

"Nor stupid."

"I try not to be."

"Then why are you here?"

That...

Was an excellent question.

Milo considered answering honestly.

Because somewhere beyond this dungeon waited a sister whose life was measured in borrowed time.

Because a king existed who needed killing.

Because power without understanding eventually became tyranny, and understanding without power eventually became regret.

Instead he smiled faintly.

"I’m conducting research."

The giant frowned.

"...Research."

"I want to know whether something your size falls differently than something mine."

Several seconds passed.

Then the giant began laughing so hard the cavern trembled.

"You..."

Another laugh.

"...are either the funniest creature I’ve met in three centuries..."

Its smile widened.

"...or the last fool."

"Those categories aren’t mutually exclusive."

"No."

The giant stood.

"They rarely are."

---

The club moved.

Milo didn’t see the swing begin.

He heard it.

Air screamed.

Instinct seized control before conscious thought could catch up.

[Mana Shield]

Golden light erupted around him.

The impact arrived a heartbeat later.

The world disappeared.

Stone exploded beneath his feet.

The shield shattered like glass struck by a cannon.

Pain detonated through his chest.

Something lifted him.

Then kept lifting.

The cavern spun violently.

He struck a pillar hard enough to fracture it before bouncing into another.

His sword left his hand.

His lungs refused to function.

For one terrible second...

He genuinely wondered whether the fight had already ended.

Then air returned.

Violently.

He coughed.

Blood splattered the stone.

"...Three."

He inhaled painfully.

"Definitely three ribs."

The giant hadn’t moved.

It simply watched.

"You live."

"So far."

"I reduced the last man’s company to bones with that swing."

"I noticed the remains outside."

"I thought you might."

Milo pushed himself upright.

His entire torso protested.

Every breath stabbed somewhere new.

His Mana Shield...

Gone.

One hit.

Destroyed.

The giant nodded almost approvingly.

"You observed instead of boasting."

"I teach."

"What?"

"People."

"...That sounds exhausting."

"It frequently is."

For reasons he couldn’t entirely explain...

The giant chuckled.

---

Milo retrieved his sword.

Slowly.

Not because he feared another attack.

Because he wanted information.

If the creature had wished to kill him immediately...

It already would have.

Which meant it possessed something even more dangerous than strength.

Patience.

He activated his skill.

[Appraisal]

The world sharpened.

Invisible lines spread across the giant’s body.

Measurements.

Calculations.

Probabilities.

A translucent window unfolded.

WORLD BOSS

Status: Healthy

Threat Assessment: Extremely High

Strength: ???

Constitution: ???

Mana: Low

Armor Integrity: Moderate

Mobility: Below Average

Milo frowned.

That...

Was unexpected.

The numbers themselves remained hidden.

But the qualitative analysis revealed something interesting.

Low mana.

Moderate armor.

Below-average mobility.

The body wasn’t optimized.

Only exaggerated.

A fortress.

Not a duelist.

He examined the old scars.

Deep.

Countless.

Many across the knees.

Several around the shoulders.

None across the chest.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

The giant watched him without interrupting.

"You have curious eyes."

"They’re useful."

"They’re calculating."

"They usually are."

"You’ve already stopped looking at me."

Milo blinked.

"...Pardon?"

"You’re looking at joints."

The giant smiled.

"Good."

That single word unsettled him more than the club had.

Good?

Most monsters protected weaknesses.

This one...

Approved of finding them.

The giant rested the enormous club across one shoulder.

"I’ve waited centuries."

Its voice lost every trace of amusement.

"Do you know what eternity does to a warrior?"

Milo said nothing.

"It teaches him that every opponent begins the same."

Another step.

Stone cracked beneath its heel.

"They all believe they’ve found the answer."

Its amber eye locked onto Milo’s.

"Show me yours."

---

Without another word...

The giant charged.

And for the first time since entering the cavern...

Milo smiled.

Not because he thought he could win.

Because he finally had enough information to begin trying.

He slammed one palm against the stone.

Mana surged.

Ink spread.

Pages exploded upward from the cavern floor.

"[Golem Summoning: Domain-Bound]."

Three enormous book knights began rising from the earth—

—and the giant’s shadow swallowed all of them in a single impossible stride.

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