Supreme Warlady Elena Burnstock

The cursed damage had ruined my tier 5 armor and other equipment. The cursed damage, or hostile Mana, from the demon’s skills had completely wrecked any enchantments. Ripping the melted off my burnt flesh even leveled up Pain Absorption.

I couldn’t sense the exit passage.

While I hated retreating and didn’t want to retreat, it would have been smart.

Unfortunately, even with my Depth Sense maximized and merged with other sensory skills, I couldn’t locate a passage to the 25^th layer. The number of passages decreased the deeper one went.

I looked at the remains that I was hiding next to.

Blood Gore was dead. His spatial pouch was destroyed, and only a couple of bone fragments remained. But the demon likely found him during one of his attempts to create distance. Probably the one four years ago when the demon was gone for a week.

A single bony arm remained. The flesh had broken down. I hadn’t touched it as the demon likely trapped it.

If I used a skill on it to check if Blood Gore was alive or moved it, the demon would know. That was why I was hiding here, and he hadn’t found me. He thought that if I were nearby, I would trigger the trap.

But I was no foolish new adventurer.

Also, the demon would naturally ignore this area with his sensory skills. I had been here for a month, and the demon still hadn’t discovered me. Fixing my body was slow and tiresome, but at least I could properly move my hands and fingers again. I knew my body incredibly well, which was the only reason I could fix myself slowly using Mana Manipulation and related skills internally.

I swallowed my blood and flesh that my stomach tried to expel.

Behave…

I couldn’t let the demon detect me. I used a careful application of Mana to consume my waste and only moved once every three days to wolf down food and water from my spatial in under ten seconds.

Other than that, I carefully kept as still as possible. Even my heart beat only once every minute. I had slowed down so much that if someone discovered me, I would be vulnerable for ten seconds while I restarted my body to full.

This was the worst situation I had ever found myself in, but I would never die or fall to a monster.

I refused to.

While Blood Gore might have thought absorption skills would help him survive and his tier 6 regeneration skill restore him, it was foolishness. It would have been nice to keep fighting, which was why I wanted Justin to learn them.

But what truly determined who died and who lived was tenacity. Something that one had to hold in their heart. It was impossible to teach someone to keep fighting and surviving when everything was hopeless.

There was a study done at the College that only confirmed this.

They left a rat in a pail of water. After half an hour, it would tire and drown, but if a person plucked it out right when it was about to drown and then put it back in after a minute, it would keep treading water for sixty hours.

Why did the rat let itself drown? It was for the same reason countless people had died in the dungeon.

They gave up.

The Mathemancer and The Librarian were perfect examples of this. They were highly capable and would fight, but they were old and tired. They had already accepted that the dungeon would be their tomb.

Blood Gore was the other failing, lack of preparation and madness. He was strong, but he was not adaptable.

That was why I had my son learn so many skills. Adaptability and refusal to give up even when all was hopeless were the key to survival against a superior opponent.

All I had was my thoughts as I slowly healed myself.

Find this and other great novels on the author’s preferred platform. Support original creators!

I underestimated cursed damage. The lingering Mana from the demon’s skills interfered with my Mana. I made sure that no one could track it. Another reason it was taking so long to deal with the curse damage. With my skills, I could expel such hostile Mana in a week.

But now, stuck like this, I would have to work on fixing myself for years at a minimum. It was pointless only to heal a bit and go back out. I needed to wait and slowly heal, with my senses heavily reduced.

The demon would get bored eventually. That was the problem with thinking monsters; they suffered from the weaknesses of other thinking beings. Boredom, exhaustion, and distractions were all weaknesses of thinking. I would weaponize those weaknesses of the demon to survive.

While it was a novel experience fighting such a powerful thinking monster, I would adapt and endure. The ground shook, and a wave of Mana washed over me. I didn’t react in the slightest. The demon probably wanted me to reveal myself, but I was hiding well enough.

In the end, Blood Gore was finally being useful, allowing me a place to hide, next to his bones. I thanked him in my heart.

He was still a pig of a man, but he had finally proved his usefulness, like an actual pig. That is the nature of farm animals. They served their masters.

It’s a shame that I had to spend so much time healing, but I couldn’t afford a single mistake.

A mistake meant death.

The real question was whether I should focus on trying to escape or whether I should truly commit to the next battle with the demon. Escape would be the best option, so I could return stronger. Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn novel-fire.ɴet

Those Hellfire skills were interesting. I would look to incorporate such cursed damage into my attacks. Slice would be perfect. While the wounded lingered slightly, I had no curse damage skills.

I had become strong enough that by the time I might have learned some, I could kill monsters and other legends easily enough that curse damage wasn’t necessary for a fight. But now this demon was making me rethink what skills were necessary.

Armor that would counter hostile Mana would be a necessity for sure. The same goes for a helmet, boots, and gloves. I would need a full set-up of new equipment just to fight this demon and counter curse damage.

While I disliked teams, that was the strength of civilization, and why I respected the College. Do not underestimate the systematically learned knowledge, equipment, and skills. Even if most of them were useless to someone as powerful as myself.

Another wave of Mana swept over me. But I still didn’t react. I didn’t think.

After a minute, there was no follow-up. I was safe. The demon was probably frustrated, which was good. I would heal myself completely and then gather my strength for a confrontation. If I ran into the demon while trying to go up a layer, then I would fight to the bitter end and commit to the battle.

I didn’t have the resources to hide like this again. While my spatial pouch was quite large, it wasn’t infinite. Also, I would prefer to die fighting than to be chased down. It was frustrating to be so outclassed, but it was also motivating. I had thought I would get to the bottom of the dungeon easily.

That there was such a challenge was invigorating.

There were monsters that needed killing. Fighting other beings was something I had done but didn’t enjoy. But putting all my effort into killing this demon was something I would gladly devote my life to.

Once I killed it, I would use its corpse to learn its secrets so I could track down other demons. A demon-sensing skill of some kind would be useful. Monsters shouldn’t think; they should just die and stay dead.

I would kill so much that even the dungeon wouldn’t create monsters in the lower layers.

If I couldn’t get to the bottom, I would become strong enough to scare it into submission.

The ground shook, but I let the tremors pass through me, mimicking the consistency of the surrounding rocks.

The Mana of the dungeon was so thick at this layer that it was helping me hide quite a bit.

I was not grateful to the dungeon, just thinking about the fact that hiding would have been far more difficult at a higher layer.

Bastian had probably died to this demon, and now his only remaining legacy, Blood Gore, had fallen as well, ending that legacy. It was a shame that I couldn’t parse through Blood Gore’s legacy to give to my son. Even with his clear mental problems, he was quite tenacious in a fight.

The issue was that if he became overwhelmed; it was all or nothing with him.

The Librarian and The Mathemancer had their legacies passed on in other ways.

I knew The Librarian had created some kind of complex test in the Last Bastion and The Mathemancer had his stored in the College of Advancement.

If someone had the necessary skills, they could learn his legacy.

No one was going to learn all those math skills and the test in the Last Bastion was annoying to the extreme. To unlock the trap room, avoid being killed, and preserve the legacy buried within, someone needed special skills. I knew several legends would meet their demise against whatever The Librarian had left behind.

I wanted no statues, no grand tomb. My legacy for those other than my son would be the destruction of the dungeon itself.

I would wipe it out and end all monsters for all time. No matter how much of my flesh burnt away, I could never crush that ambition.

I would put on a simple gown once I made my escape. My spare armor wasn’t as good as the set I had been wearing. It had melted away far too easily against the demon’s skills. Being unencumbered and moving quickly would be better for such a fight.

Lying here slowly fixing my body was a battle of patience. One I win, for I don’t lose.

I might have experienced a setback, but I refused to lose. If I didn’t lose my opponent could never win.

Hopefully, Justin had picked up that determination, and my legacy would ensure he would live even if things became difficult. The right skill at the right time was more important than 150 levels. My battle with the demon showed this.

But this understanding and combat experience wasn’t something easily imparted. I could only hope my son Justin was doing well. Being an adventurer was difficult.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep