The Skeleton Soldier Failed to Defend the Dungeon-Chapter 65. Victory of Humanity (5)

The corpse was leaning against a tree. Both the tree and the corpse were lifeless and wilted.

"Big one," I muttered as I passed by.

The goblin corpse was about the size of a human but noticeably larger than other goblins. Its bulkiness and height stood out as its prominent jawbone jutted out, and its upper body muscles were well-developed. That wasn't an ordinary goblin.

"Yes, it was a big one. We subdued it from a distance because it came charging out. Hehehe."

"At that size... it must be a warrior goblin."

That goblin was not just any warrior, but a veteran. I'd encountered plenty of goblins before. Anyone could often gauge a goblin's strength by its appearance.

Goblins were one of the most common monsters. Even in a world dominated by humans, goblins survived stubbornly with their unique breeding capabilities and persistence.

"As expected of you, Inspector! There's nothing you don't know."

The men rubbed their hands together obsequiously. I walked slowly toward the goblin corpse riddled with arrows. Some had pierced straight through and were embedded deeply into the tree behind it. The arrows kept it upright and prevented it from falling.

I extended my hand toward its wide-open eyes and gently closed them.

"Inspector, uh... what... are you... doing...?"

The scar-faced man smacked the back of the questioner's head.

Thwack!

"Shh! Don't ask questions! Just guide him properly."

"Y-yes, sir."

The men and I continued walking. Soon, we arrived at the goblin dungeon. The large entrance hinted at a sizable population inside.

Near the entrance gate, several crossbowmen stood behind shielded positions. "Halt! Ah, you're here. Who's this with you?"

"Inspector, I'll have a quick word with them."

I nodded, and the scar-faced man approached the guards at the entrance and whispered something. The leader of the crossbowmen wore a somewhat respectable chain coif, and although he seemed surprised, he nodded in agreement.

When the scar-faced man returned, he instructed the others to stay behind. "You all stay here. I'll take the Inspector inside alone."

"Inspector, this way, please."

His demeanor had shifted slightly, but I chose not to react. When we reached the dungeon entrance, a message appeared before me.

[Crimson Deer Goblin Settlement (Occupied)]

[Dungeon Rank: E-]

[Recommended Level: 10-20]

[This is an easy dungeon for your current level.]

[This is a large-scale dungeon.]

[Recommended party size: 15-20 people]

The recommended level was low, but the suggested party size was large.

The dungeon must be spacious.

I glanced at the floating message that only I could see. None of the others would notice this display.

The scar-faced man glanced at me. "What are you looking at? The dungeon gate looks impressive, doesn't it?"

"Nothing. Let's go inside."

I stepped into the dungeon.

[You have entered the dungeon.]

A cavern with a high ceiling unfolded before me. Several humans armed with bows were stationed throughout. Whether they had always been there or were new, bright torches illuminated the area.

Shelves stacked with extracted bloodstones lined the walls. Judging by the amount, they had killed well over a hundred goblins. Some men were busily recording details in ledgers.

"This way, please..."

The scar-faced man zigzagged through the cavern, but he seemed to be leading me in circles.

I followed in silence before I finally said, "You don't seem to think I'm the Inspector."

His attitude had shifted since we entered the cavern. He clearly didn't believe I was who I claimed to be.

The scar-faced man smirked. "Well, of course..."

As he trailed off, the narrow tunnel opened into a vast hall. Torches lined the walls, and the ceiling soared higher than anywhere else in the cave.

Rumble! Thud!

The stone walls of the passage behind me slammed shut, cutting off my escape.

A trap mechanism.

Click, clack.

The sound of crossbows being loaded echoed through the hall.

I scanned the area quickly. Over ten men aimed their crossbows at me. Most of them had already finished loading, and their weapons were trained on me.

Their faces bore mocking grins. The scar-faced man stepped away, standing beside the chain-coifed leader I had seen earlier.

He finally continued, "Well, of course. You're not the Inspector."

"You don't trust the ID card?"

The scar-faced man chuckled. "Listen, Benson Pretcher was my direct boss. And that bastard died a year ago."

The other men joined in his laughter.

"So, who the hell are you claiming to be Lord Fletcher? Did you crawl out of his grave?"

Thud.

I took a step forward.

The man next to the scar-faced man shouted, "Don't move! These crossbows will pierce through steel like paper!"

I shrugged.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

I clapped my gauntleted hands together.

So they had known all along, yet I hadn't noticed. They had completely fooled me.

I praised them. "Your acting is impressive."

The scar-faced man sneered, "Who the hell are you? Since you killed that bastard, we might skip the torture and just kill you outright."

Of course, it was an empty threat—he had no authority to decide.

All the men from earlier also joined in. They had swapped their spiked maces and swords for crossbows. There were twenty of them in total. With no cover and the exit sealed, my choice was simple.

Dash.

* * *

Jill Lurgis, a preliminary member of the Necron Shrine Society, was perplexed. Lurgis traced the scar on his face and reflected on how he had successfully lured the impostor pretending to be Fletcher. He knew that fighting on the road could risk losing or allowing the impostor to escape.

Instead, they baited him into this trap. Twenty crossbows were aimed at him, and there was no place to hide or escape.

It was an overwhelming situation. With the release of a bow, the impostor would be riddled with bolts. Dozens of triangular iron tips would pierce the imposter. A shot through the heart or lungs would kill him instantly.

Yet, the impostor remained unnervingly calm, showing no signs of distress.

Does he really think he can dodge all these crossbows?

At that moment, the impostor moved.

Jill Lurgis shouted impulsively, "Fire! Fire!"

Whiz! Whiz!

Twenty crossbow bolts flew toward the knight.

Thunk! Thunk! Thud!

Each bolt, tipped with triangular iron heads, was powerful enough to pierce steel. Despite their preparations and pre-aim, only about half hit their target as the impostor moved.

Bolts embedded into the armor in quick succession. Now, if the impostor fell, they could remove the helmet and confirm the corpse...

Slash! Whoosh! Slash!

"Aaaaargh!"

The scene was utterly surreal for them. What they were seeing made no sense. Arrows had pierced through the armor. Not just one or two—several arrows had struck deep into critical areas like the heart and lungs.

Yet, the knight moved as though nothing had happened. With arrows lodged in his heart, lungs, and abdomen, he rushed forward, splitting the archers' heads in half.

That is impossible.

If an arrow pierced a limb, a person's movement would be hindered. If an arrow hit the heart or lungs, instant death was inevitable. But the knight moved unimpeded, with arrows embedded in vital spots.

Moreover, not a single drop of blood dripped from the armor. His neck, his chest, his thighs, and even his head did not have a speck of blood.

Crack!

Another preliminary member's head split open like a watermelon. Unlike goblins, no bloodstones existed in human brains. The archers whose skulls had been cleaved fell backward, dropping their crossbows.

Ting! Ting, ting! freewёbnoνel-com

Reloaded bolts, moments away from being fired, ricocheted off the ceiling.

The scar-faced man, Jill Lurgis, couldn't believe his eyes. Even so, he screamed for the archers to shoot almost reflexively. "Fire! Fire! Keep shooting!"

A few archers miraculously finished reloading, and they managed to land more bolts.

Whizz! Whizz!

Thunk! Thunk, thunk!

The arrows struck his back, neck, thighs, and pelvis. Every bolt found a critical spot where any normal person would collapse. But the knight, as if unfazed, continued to weave through the attackers, cutting down archers one by one.

Slash!

Another preliminary member of the Necron Shrine Society departed from the world. At this point, the remaining members were starting to lose even their reflexive will to fight.

***

"H-he's not going down?"

"We definitely hit him! Agh!"

Well, that's just it.

Most of the arrows missed entirely, passing through empty space.

[Piercing attacks below Rank C detected!]

[Damage reduced by 40%!]

[Perk: The Withered Maze Conqueror]

The perk was a reward I obtained from conquering the withered maze filled with poisonous thorns. For ten whole days, I had traversed that maze. The entire structure was made of moving, venomous thorns. One scratch and the poison would turn blood toxic.

It would be an insurmountable challenge for a human to tackle it due to its maddening difficulty. But for me, it was merely a maze to navigate. If Rena had accompanied me, we might have cleared it in a single day using her tracking skills. But had she entered, she would have died immediately to the thorns.

[Damage reduced by 40%!]

Either way, even arrows that pierced the armor and hit my bones were significantly weakened.

"Ugh, ugh, aaaah!"

I had already cut down about ten men. Some of the remaining ones abandoned their crossbows and desperately grabbed melee weapons.

But it was far too late. Momentum was critical in a fight, something Rena had taught me. By her logic, these men were utterly crushed. Their carefully planned attack had failed in ways they couldn't comprehend, and they plunged into chaos.

"Open the stone wall! Open it!"

The scar-faced leader tried to flee, operating the mechanism to open the trapdoor. Unfortunately for him, the exit was closer to me than to him.

Boom!

I pushed off the ground forcefully.

Slash!

I drove my sword into the leader's back. With a groan, he collapsed to his knees. I pulled the sword out as smoothly as if I were drawing it from a sheath.

Then I turned and swung my sword toward a man with an axe. The axe was caked with goblin blood, its blade sticky with green residue.

Slash!

The sword cleaved through both the axe handle and the man's neck. His severed neck spurted blood.

Only three humans remained.

"P-please, spare us!"

Thud! Thud! Thud!

All three dropped to their knees at once. Paralyzed by fear, they didn't even try to run.

"Stand up."

I lifted my finger in an upward motion.

The scar-faced man let out an involuntary hiccup. "H-hic!"

His intimidating appearance no longer matched his demeanor.

I tilted my head and asked, "When did I ever say I was going to kill you?"

"Y-you didn't?"

"You attacked first, didn't you?"

"Y-yes, yes!"

The three men nodded desperately. I considered my options. I had defended myself, but killing them all now felt like a waste.

They were begging for their lives.

Do I need to kill them?

Perhaps re-establishing a cooperative relationship, as I had earlier, would be better.

"Wait a moment."

I rummaged through my armor and pulled out another ID card. It was the crossbowman's ID I had found in the grave. This one also glowed faintly red.

I held it out to each of them individually and spoke benevolently. "Let's go with this ID this time. How about it? Sound good?"

The three men, almost in tears, nodded in unison. "I-it's good! It's fine!"

"Then lead the way. Take me to where the goblins are."

This content is taken from free web nov𝒆l.com