Chapter 81: [PERSPECTIVE]

“Of course,” Midas continued smoothly, folding his hands atop the desk. His voice was calm, warm even, but it carried the weight of something absolute—like a verdict passed without appeal.

“Though I am not surprised. The reason you were urged to remain a freelance hunter despite your… status, is simple—your ability. It is not only rare, but… useful.”

The last word pressed down heavier than the rest, the syllables curling into Eli’s chest like a hook.

The smile never left Midas’s lips, but his eyes sharpened, the kind of look that stripped away every pretense, as if he was measuring Eli not as a person, but as an instrument.

Eli’s pulse spiked, his fingers tightening against his lap to stop the tremor in his hands.

He forced his lips into something resembling a polite curve, even as his throat burned. “Th-thank you, sir. Your words are… too kind.”

Midas inclined his head slightly, his smile never faltering. “Now,” he said gently, his tone slipping into the easy rhythm of command without losing its warmth, “I won’t talk your ear off. Let’s get down to business, yes?”

Both Eli and Caelen nodded almost in unison, though Eli’s felt far more stiff, like his head was being pulled by a string.

“Good.” Midas gestured with a graceful wave of his hand, each movement practiced yet casual. “Can you each tell me what you noticed, and everything that happened from the moment you went inside the dungeon until its clearing? Caelen…”

His gaze shifted toward the S-Class hunter. “…you can go first.”

Caelen inclined his head, posture straightening just slightly. His voice was calm, level, but carried the weight of a seasoned hunter who’d been through hundreds of reports. “Understood.”

His words cut clean through the silence, each detail delivered like a blade honed by repetition.

“At first, nothing was out of the ordinary. We entered anticipating monster activity. What we encountered were grotesque statues—stone figures with distorted human features. Their approach was fast, hostile but manageable. We cleared them without incident, as one would expect from an A-Class dungeon.”

Eli nodded faintly, his gaze flickering between Caelen and Midas. Caelen’s composure never wavered; his delivery was sharp, precise.

Midas, on the other hand, simply sat with his hands folded and his gaze fixed, absorbing every syllable like scripture.

Caelen went on, voice as crisp as a blade unsheathing. “It was after that the ground collapsed. An earthquake split the chamber. The floor gave way, and we fell—quite far. When we came to, we realized we were in a crypt of some kind. There were no exits behind us. The only option was forward.”

Eli’s fingers curled slightly against his lap. He knew the dungeon had turned into an S-Class the moment they fell because of the system.

’It sucks I can’t tell them about it… that would’ve been good detail.’

Caelen’s eyes flicked once toward Midas before continuing. “That was where we encountered the gargoyles. At first, there were no more than twenty. They remained stone as long as our eyes were on them. But the moment we stopped looking…”

His eyes hardened faintly. “…they moved. Violently. Their stone claws were strong enough to pierce through metal plating. As we pressed deeper, their numbers multiplied. By the end, there were far more than what we’d first counted.”

Eli swallowed hard, memories clawing back.

The sound of stone grinding against stone, the thunder of gargoyle wings snapping open, the scrape of claws across marble walls.

The air in that crypt had been thick with dust and blood.

’Yeah. I remember that. Barely. It all happened too fast. He’s remembering everything, word for word. Why am I even here? He doesn’t need me to explain a damn thing…’

Caelen’s voice dropped lower, the weight of his words filling the office. “Eventually, we reached a massive door. It was sealed at first, but the gargoyles forced us toward it. Once we engaged with the threshold, the boss revealed itself.”

Eli’s pulse skipped.

’The priest.’

Caelen didn’t hesitate. “A massive priest statue.”

The image slammed back into Eli’s mind—the towering figure carved of cold white stone, robes etched in jagged script, its hollow eyes burning with malice.

Its rosary had moved like a guillotine, its swings cracking stone walls like brittle twigs.

Midas finally moved, his fingers tapping lightly against the desk. His smile remained patient, but the subtle intensity in his gaze sharpened a bit.

“From this point on,” he said softly, “I am already aware. With the help of young Hunter Elione, you battled with the priest statue. You eventually uncovered its mechanism and destroyed it, though at the cost of sustaining heavy injuries. Yes?”

Caelen inclined his head once in confirmation. Eli’s throat went dry, but he nodded quickly as well.

Midas’s eyes softened as he leaned back slightly in his chair, gaze slipping past the two of them toward the man standing at the rear.

“Lawrence,” he said warmly, though the command in his voice was unmistakable. “Did you note all of that?”

The soft clacking of keys ceased. Lawrence lifted his gaze from the Epad, pushing his glasses up with one finger. “Yes, sir. Every detail.”

Midas inclined his head, satisfied, then returned his gaze to the two before him. This time, his golden eyes settled directly on Eli.

“And now, young Elione. Your turn.”

Eli blinked, caught like a deer in headlights. His spine stiffened, his palms clammy against his thighs. “…M-my turn?”

’Seriously? Why me? He already got the perfect report out of Caelen. What the hell am I supposed to add—sound effects?’

Midas’s smile didn’t waver, patient yet unyielding. “Yes. Please, tell me everything from your perspective.”

Eli’s throat bobbed. His eyes flicked helplessly toward Caelen—only to find him watching him with quiet amusement—before snapping back to Midas.

“Do… do I also need to start from the beginning? Because Caelen already explained it so perfectly, I’m not sure if—”

A soft chuckle slipped from Midas, low and warm, almost grandfatherly.

“Your version,” he urged gently, folding his hands atop his desk again. “What you noticed. What you felt. No matter how small it seems—your perspective is just as valuable.”

’I don’t see the point…’

Eli’s chest squeezed. He didn’t understand—why would his messy, half-panicked blur of memories matter?

But Midas’s gaze was steady, pulling the words out of him before he could clamp down.

’I guess… I can do this. Just… don’t screw it up.’

“…We went inside the dungeon,” Eli began, his voice low, uncertain. He could feel Caelen’s stare still burning into the side of his head. “And… I immediately noticed the walls. There were images carved on them—of a priest and its followers. They kept repeating, different variations, but mostly a priest was standing, while there were figures kneeling.”

Midas’s expression shifted subtly. Not dramatic—just the faintest crease of his brow, as if that particular detail carried weight.

Encouraged, Eli continued. “We walked forward… and I—I felt danger because of my ability. That was when we saw the ugly statues—the grotesques. And… Caelen destroyed them all before they could do real damage.”

Midas’s mouth curved faintly at that, his warmth flickering just enough to show he was listening closely. “I see.”

Eli’s fingers curled in his lap, tightening unconsciously.

“Then… I felt danger again. And right after that, the earthquake hit. The ground collapsed beneath us. I—” His breath snagged, throat tight. “…I would’ve gotten seriously hurt if Caelen hadn’t grabbed me when we fell. He… helped me a lot.”

The words slipped out too soft, almost embarrassed, but Midas gave no sign of judgment. Only a slow, thoughtful nod, his gaze intent yet kind.

“Go on.”

Eli exhaled shakily, his chest rising and falling too quick. “When we were inside the crypt, I saw the murals again. The same ones… but more distorted. Twisted. They looked less like depictions and more like warnings.”

His voice dipped lower, haunted. “…Which eventually I realized they were warnings about the boss. About the priest. And about its followers—the gargoyles.”

At this point, he was only repeating what Caelen said.

“The gargoyles… they only moved if we weren’t looking. At first, there weren’t many, but the deeper we went, the more they multiplied. Just like Caelen said.”

He forced himself through it, his words coming sharper now, hurried. “…And then we reached the door. The massive door. And behind it—the priest statue.”

Eli’s voice faltered, trailing into silence. His chest heaved once, twice, before he pressed his lips together, willing himself to stop.

’That’s it. That’s all I’ve got. Not half as clean as Caelen’s, but… that’s all I noticed. Was that even good enough? Or did I just sound like some idiot who panicked his way through the fight?’

He dared a glance up—Midas’s eyes were steady, unreadable.

’Did…I do well?’

“Mhm. Now, Caelen,” Midas said smoothly, fingers lacing together atop the desk. “What are the unusual things you noticed that could have tipped you off that something was amiss? Any detail, no matter how small.”

Eli sat rigidly, eyes darting from Midas to Caelen, heart hammering.

’I guess… that was enough? He didn’t really say anything else about my answer.’

Caelen, meanwhile, didn’t even hesitate. “Nothing, really. Besides the fact that I felt the priest was too strong for an A-Class classification, everything—earthquake aside—seemed like a standard dungeon.”

His tone was confident, steady, as though his word was law.

Midas gave a small, thoughtful nod.

Eli’s mouth went dry. His hand twitched against his lap—then, before he could stop himself, he raised it slightly. “…Well.”

Both Midas’s and Caelen’s eyes flicked toward him. The sudden weight of their attention made his stomach sink, but he forced himself to continue.

There was something that had been gnawing at him these past few days.

A detail he couldn’t shake no matter how he turned it over in his head.

“Yes, Elione?” Midas’s voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable spark of curiosity. He gestured lightly toward him. “Do you disagree with Caelen?”

The question hung like a blade, sharp and heavy.

Caelen’s brow arched, molten orange eyes narrowing slightly. “Did you notice something?” His voice wasn’t mocking, but there was a challenge in it—like he didn’t expect Eli to say anything worth noting.

Eli swallowed hard, heat prickling at the back of his neck. “…Uh, well, I’m not sure but…” His voice faltered before he pushed it out, words tumbling into the silence. “Aren’t… the monsters in that dungeon… new?”

The room went silent.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep