Chapter 117: Healing and Transformation

E-rank Dungeon,

The echo of hurried footsteps filled the corridor as Lia led the group through the twisting dungeon passages—Lirael, Selene, Jax, and Torren following right behind. Aurelian, Maera, and the remaining students had stayed behind to guard the area, but Lia couldn’t stop. She wouldn’t stop.

“We have to find him quickly!” she said, voice trembling but resolute.

Torren, panting but keeping pace, called out, “Why don’t you use your ring?”

“What?” Lia turned sharply, her voice caught between disbelief and irritation. “What nonsense are you spitting now?!”

Torren frowned. “You really don’t know? A Life Stone doesn’t just tell if the other partner’s alive—it can also show their distance! Their location!”

Lirael’s eyes widened. “He’s right!”

Torren nodded firmly. “Just pour your mana into the ring. You’ll feel where he is—how far he’s drifted!”

Lia’s breath caught. Hope—small but fierce—sparked in her chest. Without hesitation, she poured mana into her glowing ring. Instantly, she felt a faint thrum in her chest. Her heartbeat… it resonated with another.

Her breath hitched. “I can feel him… He’s weak… but he’s there! Somewhere deeper, in a room below!”

Her eyes glistened with worry. “Let’s go! He’s fading by the second!”

They sprinted faster—Lia and Jax at the front, determination burning in their eyes.

Finally, they reached a massive iron door. Blocking the path stood a monstrous wild boar, its skin darkened with dungeon miasma, eyes glowing a hungry red.

The creature snorted, pawing the ground as it lowered its tusks toward them.

Lia’s mana flared—dark pink with shimmering butterflies dancing in the air. Her hair whipped in the wind as her voice cut sharp and furious.

“Get out—of my way!”

Jax’s white aura erupted beside her, twin pistols glowing as he added, “You heard her!”

Lia dashed forward, slashing her blade through the air.

“Wind Butterfly: Butterfly Slash!”

A streak of pink wind shot forth, slicing clean through the monster’s front hide.

Jax spun both pistols.

“Spellshooter’s Arsenal: Hexstorm Rush!”

From his guns, a torrent of blue mana bullets rained, piercing the boar’s massive body in a blinding barrage.

The beast let out one last, trembling roar—then collapsed, body shredded by holes and clean slashes.

Torren said softly to Lirael as they passed the corpse. “Remind me never to stand between these two.”

Lirael nodded.

Lia’s glowing ring pulsed faintly. Ron’s heartbeat… was still there, but slower.

“Come on,” she said, pushing open the door to the chamber.

The group entered—hearts pounding, weapons drawn—ready to face whatever had taken Ron to the brink.

.

.

.

The group burst through the chamber door—

—and froze.

Before them stretched an open expanse, unlike any part of the dungeon they’d seen before. The ceiling was gone, replaced by an eerie orange sky with a single crimson sun hanging low and still. Faint winds carried the stench of blood and ash.

The chamber’s ground was torn apart—massive cracks, scorch marks, and claw grooves ran in every direction. On the right side, the massive corpse of a serpent lay coiled and decapitated, its head thrown several meters away, black blood seeping into the shattered floor.

And in the middle—

Lying motionless on the cold stone—was Ron.

Lia’s heart dropped.

Her voice broke into a scream.

“RON!!!”

She sprinted forward, her footsteps echoing across the ruined floor. Jax followed close behind, with Lirael, Selene, and Torren right after.

Lia fell to her knees beside him. Her hands trembled as she lifted his head slightly.

His body was covered in deep gashes, blood pooling beneath him. Her gaze froze on the gaping hole in his right chest—his ribs shattered, skin torn.

“Bro… wake up!” Jax’s voice cracked, his usual calm gone. “Come on, heal yourself, damn it!”

Lirael quickly pushed past them, kneeling beside Ron. “Move! If we don’t act now, he’s gone!”

Selene’s eyes widened, horrified by the state he was in.

Lirael gripped her staff tightly, channeling mana. “Light magic, Fourth Circle—Sacred Restoration!”

A radiant pillar of white light burst from above, bathing Ron’s broken form in warmth. His bleeding slowed, torn flesh beginning to knit back together. But the hole in his chest—the wound closest to his heart—barely reacted.

Lirael’s brow furrowed. “No… it’s not working! His ribs are completely destroyed. If I focus just on closing that wound, the bones will heal wrong—they’ll puncture him from the inside! I can’t handle both at once!”

Her voice carried frustration—and fear.

Then a surge of orange-yellow light flared behind her.

“Rune Magic, Fourth Circle: Empowering Array!”

Selene’s voice echoed through the chamber. A glowing rune circle formed at her feet, spreading like sunlight. The air itself seemed to hum with power as golden runes floated behind Lirael’s back, amplifying her magic.

“Keep focusing on his chest!” Selene said, her tone firm despite the sweat beading on her forehead. “I’ll stabilize the rest!”

She raised her wand, and three glowing orange symbols appeared midair. With a wave of her hand, they burst forward, flowing into Ron’s body like threads of light.

“Rune Magic, Third Circle: Restorative Bindings!”

The runes attached themselves along Ron’s ribs and limbs, softly pulsing as they realigned broken bones, repaired torn muscle, and steadied his vital flow.

Ron’s body trembled slightly as the healing took effect—his breath weak but returning.

Lirael and Selene both gritted their teeth, sweat running down their faces as their magics intertwined—light and rune, hope and endurance.

Lia clutched Ron’s bloodied hand tightly, whispering,

“Please… please don’t leave me.”

—

Somewhere far from the dungeon, deep within a dense, mist-laden forest…

The air shimmered.

With a sound like cracking glass, a figure materialized in the middle of a clearing.

A faint ripple spread through the trees, scattering a flock of ravens into the crimson-lit sky.

The figure stumbled slightly as he appeared—two black horns curved forward from his head, smoke still curling off his body. His crimson eyes glowed faintly beneath his messy hair.

It was Arin.

A strange, floating object—the same button-like device that Ron had pressed—hovered briefly beside him before clattering to the forest floor, its glow fading.

Arin blinked in confusion. “What the—? Where… am I?”

He turned slowly, scanning the towering, dark-green canopy around him.

“This… isn’t the dungeon.”

He clenched his fists, his expression darkening.

“I was about to finish that insect… but that weird thing brought me here.”

A cold smirk tugged at his lips.

“No matter. He’ll die from his wounds anyway. A pity—I wanted to see his face when he realized it.”

He exhaled softly, then lifted his hand. Black lightning crackled faintly around his arm, the corrupted smoke still swirling under his skin.

“…This power,” he murmured, almost in awe. “I thought I was dying… but instead—”

His grin widened, teeth glinting in the dim red light.

“—I got this. Unreal. Feels like the world itself is bending for me.”

He laughed quietly, shaking his head.

“My Plot Armor Skill, huh? Guess My Story(Ex) really is the strong one.”

A branch cracked behind him.

“Hello.”

The voice was calm. Cold. Too familiar.

Arin froze. Slowly, he turned his head.

Through the faint mist, a man stood—tall, composed, his presence heavy despite his unarmed stance.

Recognition flashed in Arin’s scarlet eyes.

“…You?”

The man stepped forward, eyes narrowing slightly.

It was Ron’s class in-charge Zane Creed—his expression unreadable, but the faint glint in his purple eyes carried a quiet, dangerous intent.

Zane stood still, his long coat swaying faintly in the forest breeze.

His eyes studied Arin before him — not with hostility, but with quiet, clinical curiosity. Then, a small smile curved his lips.He starts his acting.

“You’re Arin Blake,” Zane said evenly. “What happened to you…?”

Arin tilted his head, the faint red glow of his eyes cutting through the mist.

A twisted grin spread across his face.

“So you’re him… Ron’s class in-charge. Zane Creed.”

His voice carried a rasping echo, almost like two tones overlapping.

“You know something about me and that insect Ron, don’t you?”

Zane didn’t answer. He simply watched. Calm. Amused.

Arin’s grin deepened. He thinks

Heh… let’s check how strong you really are.

He raised his hand, black lightning flickering along his arm.

A blood-red screen appeared before him, filled with jagged symbols and system runes.

[Scanning…]

Name: Zane Creed

Age: ???

Strength: ???

Agility: ???

Endurance: ???

Speed: ???

Magic: ???

Luck: ???

Unique Skills: ???

Arin’s smirk faltered. “What the—?”

He tapped the screen again, but it remained unchanged. Only question marks, pulsing mockingly.

“My system never failed inspection before…!”

Zane’s expression didn’t shift.

“It’s useless,” he said quietly. “Your little system can’t scan me.”

That calm, matter-of-fact tone carried more weight than any shout could.

Arin’s eyes widened.

A chill crawled down his spine.

He knows?

How…? From when…?

And then Zane spoke again — softly, yet his words froze the air around them.

“I’ve known about your system… since the day you entered the entrance exam.”

Arin even more shocked and his voice trembled slightly . “You—You can read my mind…?”

Zane’s faint smirk returned, colder this time.

His gaze sharpened, and the air itself seemed to still.

“Something like that,” he said.

Arin’s mouth opened, but before he could utter a word—

Zane tilted his head slightly, his voice calm and almost casual.

“Hey,” he said softly, “why don’t you stop hiding… and come out?”

His gaze sharpened. “I can feel you.”

Arin froze, confusion flashing across his face. “What are you talking abou—”

A deep thump echoed through the forest.

Arin’s body stiffened. His pupils dilated, his breath hitched—then his entire frame began to tremble violently.

Another pulse—thump—like a heartbeat from something inside him.

His scarlet eyes rolled back as his consciousness slipped away. Yet his body remained standing, trembling, cracking with pressure.

Zane watched silently as the black smoke around Arin thickened, twisting like a living shadow. The curved horns on his head lengthened, stretching into sharper, darker blades of energy. His body swelled—muscles tightening, veins bulging under his skin as his aura turned wild and corrosive.

A wave of pure corruption burst from him, the shockwave splitting the ground beneath his feet. His torn uniform shredded completely, the black magic aura consuming his upper half in a swirling storm.

His fingers twitched—nails elongating, coated in dense black energy until they resembled curved claws.

Then, a low chuckle slipped from his lips—distorted, layered, inhuman.

It grew louder, deeper, until it became a manic laugh echoing through the trees.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Finally… I’m out! After so long!”

The forest quaked under his voice.

Zane didn’t move.

His faint smile remained.

He tilted his head slightly, eyes gleaming with cold amusement.

“This,” he murmured,

“is going to be good.”

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