Chapter 127: A Lesson Amid Ashes

Boss chamber,

The boss chamber rumbled again, dust falling from the fractured ceiling as Zane’s calm voice echoed across the room.

“Now, all of you—back off a little.”

The students exchanged puzzled looks.

Lia tilted her head, frowning. “What do you mean by that, Professor?”

Before Zane could answer, the floating dungeon core—which had been eerily quiet—began to glow once more. Its light pulsed violently, like a heartbeat that refused to die.

Zane’s expression hardened. “When I separated the crystals, the one I let go absorbed fragments of the one I destroyed. Now…”

His purple eyes gleamed faintly. “…it’s resummoning the boss, adjusting its strength based on everyone present inside the dungeon.”

Jax’s tired face twisted in disbelief. “Which means… it’s going to be ridiculously strong.”

Zane gave a small amused smile. “Exactly. That’s why I said—back off.”

Every student, from Class Arboris to Class Caelis, took several cautious steps backward.

Zane simply waved his hand, and a dome of shimmering blue mana expanded outward, forming a solid barrier around all the students.

He turned, his coat swaying lightly, facing the blinding light that was now erupting from the dungeon core.

The glow intensified until it drowned the entire chamber—

—signaling the rebirth of something colossal.

The boss room began to tremble once again, dust and fragments of stone falling from the cracked ceiling.

A blinding flash erupted beneath the floating dungeon core—

and from that light, something monstrous emerged.

The creature stood over twelve feet tall, its entire form clad in jagged, stone-like armor.

The armor wasn’t worn—it was fused to its flesh, cracked and broken in places, revealing a hollow interior that glowed faintly with a cold, crimson light.

Dozens of black chains pierced through its body and armor, dragging behind like a grotesque, metallic cape.

In one hand, it gripped a massive one-handed longsword, and in the other, a length of chain coiled like a living serpent.

Its helm was shaped like a screaming skull, empty sockets burning with that same red glow.

Every movement it made was followed by the grinding scrape of stone on stone, and the low, mournful clank of its chains echoing through the chamber.

Its mana burst outward like a storm—an overwhelming, suffocating wave.

Zane stood calmly before it, purple eyes gleaming.

“Impressive…” he murmured.

He tilted his head slightly, analyzing it.

So the dungeon core used nearly all of its remaining mana to summon this…

Instead of raising the dungeon’s overall rank, it poured everything into creating a single boss.

A desperate move—summoning something strong enough to match me.

Zane smiled faintly. “Too bad.”

Behind him, the students—protected within the shimmering blue mana barrier—couldn’t feel the boss’s crushing presence.

But they could see it, and the sight alone made their hearts pound.

Then a shaky voice spoke from among them.

Felrin Corvinus, the boy with round glasses, whispered as his eyes widened,

“T-That’s… a Grave Knight…”

Gasps rippled through the students.

“A S–Rank boss…?!”

Shock spread like wildfire—except for Ron and Lia, who simply watched with calm confidence.

They knew Zane Creed wouldn’t be fazed by something like this.

Zane stepped forward, one hand lazily extended, palm down.

He tilted it back and forth, a taunting smirk curving his lips.

“Come on,” he said quietly.

“Let’s see what you’ve got.”

The Grave Knight didn’t move. Instead, it planted its longsword firmly into the ground, standing tall and unmoving — like a sentinel refusing to strike first.

“Professor!” Felrin shouted suddenly, adjusting his glasses nervously. “I’ve read that some Grave Knights are honorable fighters! They were great warriors before becoming undead — they won’t fight you unless you also have a weapon!”

Zane glanced at the unmoving knight, its crimson glow flickering faintly through the cracks of its armor.

“Hmm…” he said, half amused. “Still clinging to its honor even after turning into an undead? That must be because of the polluted soul fragment trapped inside it.”

He smirked faintly. “Decent.”

Then, as if an idea struck him, he called out, “Hey, Lia!”

Lia blinked in surprise. “Y-Yes, Professor?”

“Give me your white sword,” Zane said casually, holding out his hand. “I want to borrow it.”

Without hesitation, Lia nodded. “Yes, Professor!” She tossed the sleek white single-edged sword through the air.

Zane caught it effortlessly, his gaze falling on the weapon.

He turned it slightly in his hand, admiring the blade’s gleam. A chokutō, huh? Straight, single-edged…

He narrowed his eyes slightly. And this one’s… unique.

The moment his mana brushed against it, the sword pulsed faintly — almost rejecting his touch.

Zane smiled, faintly amused. “I know you’re in there,” he murmured, his tone low but sharp. “Better let me use the sword. Because if you resist… I’ll break you.”

His smile widened, calm and confident. “And don’t worry, I’ve got a much better sword in mind for Lia.”

The sword trembled once more — then went still, the faint resistance fading.

“That’s more like it,” Zane said softly, gripping the weapon as a faint layer of blue mana shimmered across his arm.

He turned his gaze toward the class, voice firm yet composed.

“Well,” he said with a faint chuckle, “I don’t usually bother with weapons for these kinds of weaklings…”

His smile sharpened.

“…but I’ll manage. Besides—” he raised the sword slightly, mana beginning to flow around it—

“This is a good opportunity to teach.”

He glanced toward Lia and the other warrior-type students.

“While I’m at it,” he said, his eyes gleaming,

“I’ll show you what Weapon Coat really is.”

The Grave Knight pulled its sword from the ground, crimson light flaring within its hollow chest. It raised the weapon high, chains rattling like ghostly bells.

Then—with a sound like grinding tombstones—it roared and charged.

The great sword came down like a collapsing mountain.

Zane sidestepped, effortless and calm. Lia’s white sword flashed once in his hand—one clean motion so sharp it carved silence itself.

A chunk of decayed armor fell away, smoking faintly where the blade had grazed it.

Zane exhaled lightly. “It’s hard to control my strength,” he said casually. “If I’m not careful, I’ll just cut him in half.”

He moved between the Grave Knight’s swings with graceful ease, explaining even as steel screamed around him.

“As you see—when I slash without mana, it doesn’t cut deep. That’s why warriors use mana coating—to make the weapon sharper and more durable.”

He turned slightly, deflecting a strike with a flick of the wrist.

“But what you’re doing…” he said, glancing at the warrior students, “…is just pouring mana into the weapon—uncontrolled. It leaks everywhere.”

He raised the sword and let his own mana flow.

Blue energy flared violently around the blade, crackling like wild flame.

“This—” he said, motioning to the burning aura, “is ninety percent waste… and ten percent actual effect. It may work on weaker foes but not on stronger ones.”

Every student—Lia, Ron, Maera, Jax, Aurelian, Celeste—and even the mages like Lirael and Selene—watched with wide eyes.

The Grave Knight growled and lashed its chains forward, shrieking through the air, sparks dragging across the ground. They shot toward Zane like living serpents.

Before they could wrap around him, Zane’s sword moved.

A single slash—and every chain split mid-air, fragments clattering to the floor in a metallic storm.

“As you saw,” Zane said calmly, “most of that mana leaked out, making the slash inefficient.”

Then his tone shifted slightly.

“But—”

He stepped forward.

A blinding arc of blue-white light carved upward.

The Grave Knight staggered, crimson light flickering wildly. With a guttural screech, it wrapped its remaining chain around its sword, spinning it into a massive bladed flail. When it swung, the air itself cracked—shockwaves thundered through the chamber.

The students flinched instinctively, but Zane’s barrier held firm.

The chained sword came hurtling toward Zane.

He didn’t move.

He simply smiled.

As it neared, he raised Lia’s sword—its edge glowing faintly.

But this time, the mana was different—no longer flaring wildly, but smooth and condensed, perfectly aligned to the blade’s form.

When the Grave Knight’s weapon met his—

Shhhh.

The Graveknight blade split cleanly in two, severed from tip to hilt separatedfrom the chains . Both halves whooshed past Zane, missing him by mere inches, before clanging lifelessly to the floor.

The Grave Knight froze—its hollow helm tilting slightly, as if confused by what had just occurred.

Zane turned the white sword slightly, letting the students see it.

Blue mana clung tightly to the blade, shaped perfectly to its edge, glowing with calm precision.

“This,” Zane said with a faint, knowing smile,

“is Weapon Coat.”

The chamber fell utterly silent.

And then, almost in unison—

the students gasped.

Zane looked at the glowing sword in his hand, its surface still wrapped in that calm, blue light.

“There are stages in Weapon Coat,” he said, turning slightly toward the students. “And this… is just the first one.”

He smiled faintly. “For now, this much is enough for you to see.”

Then his gaze shifted back to the Grave Knight.

“Sorry,” Zane said quietly, his tone respectful yet casual, “but I used you to teach my students.”

He raised the blade slightly. “Now… let me free you from your suffering.”

The Grave Knight’s crimson light dimmed for a moment, as if understanding. It stood straight, calm—waiting.

Zane vanished.

The air rippled—no explosion, no sound, only stillness.

Then, suddenly, Zane stood behind the Grave Knight, his sword lowered.

To the students, it looked like teleportation—instant, impossible.

But then—

The Grave Knight froze, motionless.

And in the next instant… its massive body shattered silently into millions of fragments, each no larger than a fingernail.

The pieces rained down softly, clinking against the stone floor before crumbling into ash.

From within the fading remains, a faint, translucent figure rose—

A tall man clad in gleaming silver armor, his blonde hair and mustache glowing faintly. His once-crimson eyes were now a calm, peaceful blue.

He bowed deeply to Zane, gratitude clear even without words.

Zane simply nodded.

The spirit smiled faintly, then dissolved into light—free at last.

Zane turned back toward his students, resting the sword against his shoulder.

“Class dismissed,” he said with a small smile.

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