Who Designed This Underworld Dungeon?

"Dancer of the Cold Valley! Killing you a hundred times still wouldn’t be enough!"

Leon’s furious roar echoed from atop the High Wall of Losric.

Just from the sound alone, anyone listening would probably picture some bloodshot-eyed homicidal maniac.

But unfortunately, Leon’s current appearance could be described as downright upright and proper.

On his body was a bloodstained Feathered Knight torso armor, greaves stripped from a Losric Knight, hand armor that was just some random rags he’d thrown together, and for a helmet he wore that dignified, righteous-looking Losric Knight helm.

Add to that the Bordeaux Hammer resting on his shoulder, exuding a chilling frost, and no matter how you looked at him he was a thoroughly honest and kind Knight.

How many days had passed since he came to the High Wall of Losric? Leon had never bothered with that kind of question, and in the Sain Dungeon there was no way to keep track of time anyway—the sky over Losric was forever that dingy yellow.

For the Leon of now, questions like that were completely pointless, because at this very moment he was immersed in the joy of a bountiful harvest.

Because he had defeated the Dancer of the Cold Valley!

In this nameless church, the Dancer of the Cold Valley collapsed to the ground, that abnormally huge body slowly turning to Ash and scattering, leaving behind all sorts of light points where she fell, among which were no few golden and purple ones.

Leon grabbed the golden light point in one fist.

[Soul of the Dancer]

[Soul of the Dancer, a soul brimming with great power; use directly to obtain a massive amount of soul, or transpose it to obtain its power]

[Pope Shalivan granted her two swords, ordering her, a descendant of the former Royal Family, to become the Dancer who wields the Dancing Sword, then ordered her to be exiled as a Knight of War]

"Even after winning, this still feels so damn unsatisfying..."

Who knew how he’d gotten through these last days?

To make up for the stat gap between himself and the Dancer, these days he did nothing but grind monsters and level up whenever he wasn’t sleeping, and at this moment his own Level had already reached over forty!

Challenging the Dancer of the Cold Valley at this Level was still a difficult choice, but relying on his Combat Skill techniques that had already reached a state of consummate mastery, after repeatedly throwing himself at her and dying, he finally brought her down.

But judging from his attitude, Leon clearly didn’t care for this pile-of-crap boss.

"Clank—"

At that moment, an iron ladder dropped from the heavens, hanging straight down toward a top end so high you couldn’t see it at a glance.

And judging from the map’s structure, the place this ladder led to was most likely that place.

"Losrik City, huh? I really did pick a ’shortcut.’"

Leon pondered for a moment.

Then immediately chose to return to the Fire Transmission Ceremony.

"You’ve got to be kidding me, I haven’t even spent this huge sum of soul yet—only an idiot would go exploring a new area while carrying a fortune!"

He hurried back to the Fire Transmission Ceremony and was just about to go looking for the Fireproof Woman when he suddenly noticed something new had appeared here.

"Is that... a Teleportation Gate?"

Beside the bonfire, a familiar Teleportation Gate stood silently.

————————————

The flames of Sin would magnify a person’s ambition, and the many thoughts that accompanied that ambition; at first, those jumbled thoughts would exert enormous pressure on one’s mind.

But ordinary people afflicted by the Sin Fire usually couldn’t withstand that initial mental strain; the vast majority would pass out for a day or two, and by then the effect of the Sin Fire was more or less over.

Even if someone with strong mental resilience didn’t pass out, the effect of the Sin Fire would last at most three or four days, and that span simply wasn’t enough time for those people to pull off anything big.

So all this time, the Sin Flames had never really been taken seriously; people just felt that its mental attack effect was annoying, and it wasn’t even as good as the Mad Fire—purely a lower-tier version of Mad Fire.

However, what if someone not only suffered the invasion of the Sin Fire, but also had the ability to do big things during the period when the Sin Fire’s effects persisted?

"Undead Brave Warriors, welcome to your arrival."

"I am the World Snake, Kass who soothes the Dark."

"Once again, welcome back."

Little Longde Ruins, in the pitch-black Abyss.

Temude stood before the Dark Great Snake Kass, gazing at this guy whose appearance was completely indistinguishable from Flament’s, and couldn’t help but feel that there was something about him that made one not want to be in the same boat.

"Well then," Kass’s huge mouth moved, and the stench drifting out dispersed around them in an instant, "are you the Hero I have long awaited?"

"...Yeah."

Forcing himself to endure the gag-inducing stench, Temude revealed the Royal Artifact emblem on the back of his hand to him and said:

"What do I do next?"

Kass’s eyes lit up, his entire massive serpent body trembling with excitement as he kept letting out awed ah-ah sounds from his mouth.

This look of his really was... a completely unabashed ugliness.

Temude took it all in, yet unlike the adventurer who had come here in the past, he did not turn around and leave.

As everyone knew, though both were World Snake, Kass and Flament were like darkness and light.

Flament guided people onto the path of Fire Transmission, prolonging the world’s light, while Kass tempted people to go to the Initial Firestove, kill Gwyn, and seize the Initial Fire, plunging the entire world into darkness. To put it more simply: the former sought to save the world, the latter to destroy it.

To this day, among the adventurer who had come into the Abyss to meet Kass, not one had ever chosen to walk this path to the end with him; even the Skyrim Strategy Group had yet to attempt this branch route.

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