Chapter 199: Chapter 199 – That’s NOT Enough!!

The desert winds howled, carrying with them the stench of blood and sand as the swarm of cultists pressed in like a tide. Luca’s twin sabers gleamed under the pale sun as he barked over the chaos,

“Eric—bring out our secret weapon!,and protect the healer!”

At his command, the veil shimmered and fell, revealing the massive figure crouched in the shadows—Big Bull.

Luca’s lips curled into a sharp smirk. Now’s the time to test that shield.

Big Bull’s eyes twisted with feral rage as he gripped his colossal mace. With a roar that shook the dunes, he charged straight into the horde.

The first cultist didn’t even have time to scream—one swing and his body was reduced to crimson mist. Another strike crushed three at once, their bones snapping like brittle twigs beneath his weapon. Sand and gore sprayed in every direction as the desert floor turned into a battlefield of broken bodies.

“AHHHHHHHHH!” one cultist shrieked, scrambling back.

“What the hell—what is this monster!?” another cried, only to be flattened under Big Bull’s next strike.

He didn’t stop, didn’t hesitate—every swing ended lives, every roar drowned out their pitiful laughter. The swarm that had once seemed endless was being reduced to nothing but shredded corpses and cracked weapons under his unstoppable fury.

Luca and Selena watched for a moment, stunned. Big Bull was tearing through the enemy with such brutality that not even they had a chance to act.

As Luca thought, is this a shield or a cannon?

But as more cultists poured from the dunes, hissing their twisted laughter, Luca’s eyes hardened. He caught Selena’s gaze—one nod, one glance of understanding was all it took.

“Let’s finish this.”

Selena’s wand crackled with lightning, arcs of blue-white energy snapping through the desert air. She unleashed a storm of lightning bolts, striking down clusters of cultists, their charred bodies collapsing into the sand. Ice spears erupted next, skewering those who thought to evade.

Meanwhile, Luca surged into the fray, twin sabers flashing like silver streaks. Every strike was precise, every parry a dance of death. He cut through their ranks with ruthless efficiency, slicing throats, severing limbs, leaving behind nothing but corpses littering the bloodstained dunes.

And beside them, Big Bull continued his rampage—each strike of his mace sending shockwaves through the ground, each roar shaking the courage out of the enemy.

The desert became a slaughterhouse. Dozens, then hundreds of cultists fell—frozen, shattered, burned, and broken. Their swarm was annihilated.

Then, suddenly—silence. The laughter was gone. The swarm had ended.

Luca stood amidst the carnage, his sabers dripping red. He exhaled, eyes narrowing at the empty horizon.

“Hmph. Looks like this node of the dungeon is cleared.”

Eric and the Saintess appeared, stepping forward now that the battlefield had quieted. Eric’s expression was grave as he gestured to the dunes around them.

“The cultists have already conquered the dungeon underneath. They’ve gained control of the nodes buried under the sand. That’s why they can swarm and overwhelm a team at will.”

The realization struck the group like a heavy weight. If one node had birthed this many cultists, how many more awaited deeper inside?

Big Bull suddenly dropped his mace with a dull thud, clutching his head. His massive frame trembled.

“Big Bull… not feeling well…” he groaned, his voice strained.

Luca’s eyes narrowed, unease creeping in. Still not feeling well? Just how many of these cultists are hiding under this desert?

The entire team’s expressions hardened as the oppressive silence settled over the bloodstained dunes.

***

The underground chamber buzzed with tense energy, the crystal screens still flickering with the image of Luca’s team cutting through the cultists.

“Hahahahahaha! Finally!! Finally someone pushed back the cultists!” One instructor burst into laughter, his voice echoing against the stone walls. Others joined him, relief and joy coloring their voices after the endless pressure of watching student after student crumble.

But amidst the laughter, a question was raised.

“…But… who is that big student? Has anyone heard about him?”

Silence spread instantly. None of the gathered instructors answered, each glancing at the other. The quiet weighed heavily until finally, one of them spoke up.

“He’s from my class. Class D.”

Gasps and astonished stares turned his way.

The Vice Dean’s voice cut through the chamber, sharp and commanding.

“Such strong talent… in Class D

?” His eyes narrowed, and his tone left no room for doubt. “I want all the information on that student immediately. And begin the process of transferring him out of that backwater class. Such a waste of potential!”

Murmurs of agreement followed, until one instructor hesitated.

“But… aren’t they already unbelievably strong? Perhaps even comparable to some of our second years?”

Another nodded vigorously. “Of course they are. Look at their lineup! First, that massive student—a perfect shield and an unstoppable destructive force rolled into one. Then Selena Weiss, the most brilliant mage of her generation. Next, the Saintess—her healing surpasses every other student, perhaps even most priests across the continent. And finally…”

The instructor trailed off before finishing with quiet reverence.

“Luca Valentine. The miracle first year. Arguably the strongest freshman Arcadia has ever seen.”

The chamber hummed with nods of agreement, but the Vice Dean slammed his hand on the armrest of his chair, silencing them.

“Fools!” His voice thundered. “Do you believe they won just because they were strong?”

A few instructors flushed, embarrassment creeping across their faces. One of them, Halreth, stepped forward nervously.

“Then… can you explain, sir?”

The Vice Dean leaned forward, his eyes glinting with sharp intelligence.

“From the very start of the exam, their choices were deliberate. They did not rush in blindly like the others. Instead, they assessed the situation, landed outside the given location, studied the terrain, and considered all possibilities. That led them to anticipate cultist interference—something everyone else failed to predict.”

The instructors exchanged surprised glances, realization dawning.

Seraphina crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “When I first saw their team, I thought they were strong—but only Luca and Selena had real offensive ability. Their combination seemed less versatile compared to Aiden’s team, so I marked them slightly lower.” She paused, exhaling softly. “…But I underestimated them.”

The Vice Dean continued, voice sharp.

“Their team formation showed self-awareness. Luca and Selena alone are a storm on the battlefield. Adding the continent’s best healer gave them the security to take risks others could not. Then they brought out a hidden gem from the lower classes,Someone even we failed to find. And the dark-haired boy—a student whose beast illusions gave them the edge no one expected,though lacking brute force—was the perfect complement. That, instructors, is strategy.”

The chamber fell silent, every eye turning as the Vice Dean’s gaze shifted to the highest seat in the room.

“…And lastly, the way they fought. Precise, calculated, merciless. It was flawless.”

He turned toward the Dean, his voice lowering with respect.

“What do you think, sir?”

The Dean, who had remained silent all this time, leaned back in his chair. His lips curved into the faintest of smiles, but his eyes carried a weight that silenced the room.

“…Good,” he said softly, his voice calm but cutting through the chamber like steel.

“…But not enough.”

Confusion spread instantly, instructors glancing at one another, puzzled and unsettled by the cryptic words.

***

Eric’s laughter rang out, wild and unrestrained, carried away by the dry desert wind. He threw his head back, fists pumping into the air.

“Hahahahaha! Yes! We did it—we did it! That was amazing!”

The others joined in, relief pouring out of them in ragged laughter. Their boots sank slightly into the loose sand as they leaned on one another, finally able to breathe after the brutal clash. The faint smell of scorched mana still lingered in the air, mixing with the hot, arid wind.

But Luca didn’t laugh.

He stood apart, his sabers still in hand, blades glinting under the sun. His shoulders were stiff, his jaw clenched tight. His eyes, half-hidden by his falling bangs, swept over the endless horizon of sand dunes as if searching for something invisible.

The Saintess noticed first. Her laughter faded, replaced by a soft, puzzled frown. She stepped closer, brushing stray strands of hair away from her face, her robe tugged by the restless desert breeze.

“What is it? Are you… not happy?”

Luca’s grip tightened around the hilt of his saber until the leather creaked. His voice came low, steady, but the weight of it crushed the air around them.

“It was just one node.”

The shift was immediate.

Eric froze mid-grin. Selena’s expression hardened. Even the desert seemed to quiet, the wind carrying his words into silence.

“This single place,” Luca continued, his tone edged with fire, “gave birth to hundreds of cultists. Hundreds. Now ask yourselves—how many more nodes are there scattered across the dungeon?”

His gaze snapped back to them, sharp as a blade.

“Do you think everyone who came before us was as lucky? As prepared? No… most of them probably never even realized what they were walking into. ”

A bead of sweat trickled down Eric’s temple, but this time it wasn’t from the heat. His fists, once raised in celebration, now trembled faintly at his sides.

“In the worst case,” Luca pressed on, his voice darkening with each word, “there could be thousands of cultists across the dungeon under ground—waiting, lurking—for the next prey.”

The desert wind howled suddenly, lifting grains of sand into the air and stinging at their faces, as if the world itself recoiled from his words.

Selena broke the silence, her eyes blazing despite the unease coiling in her chest. She took a step forward, chin lifted in defiance.

“Then we move faster. We cut through them. One by one. We’ll clear every node, no matter how many.”

Her conviction drew their eyes, but Luca didn’t turn to her. He kept staring at the far horizon, where the golden dunes stretched endlessly under the burning sky. His knuckles whitened around his sabers, veins standing out on his hands.

His lips parted, and when he finally spoke, the words rolled out like a vow written in blood.

“No…” His voice was low, almost trembling, yet unyielding. “That’s not enough.”

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