Swishhh!


    Swoosh!


    Swishhh!


    The sharp sound of a blade slicing through the air snapped me out of my daze.


    I was still on my knees, stomach twisting, the stench of blood thick in my nose. But the moment I heard those attacks—the sound of battle—my mind jolted back to reality.


    Two bodies still lay on the ground. Motionless. Lifeless.


    But beyond them—someone was still fighting.


    And against what, exactly?


    A giant.


    A massive, grotesque figure that made my blood run cold.


    [Painter’s Eye I Activating]


    A familiar notification flickered in my vision, feeding me information I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.


    [The Wretched Maw]


    A monster that represents insatiable greed and self-destruction—a creature that consumes endlessly but is never satisfied, much like those who seek power without purpose.


    And the description wasn’t exaggerating.


    The thing was bloated and eyeless, its entire body stretched into a gaping mouth filled with jagged, endless teeth. Its translucent skin was riddled with scars—as if it had tried to devour itself.


    Its long, sinewy arms lashed at the air, clawed hands grasping for anything, for everything.


    It was disgusting. Terrifying.


    And yet…


    Someone was fighting it.


    A lone swordsman. His movements were desperate, his blade chipped and barely holding together. One more good hit, and it would shatter.


    I swallowed hard, forcing my body to move.


    "O slumbering flames, wake from your rest, rise as the dragon’s breath, and burn all who stand before me!"


    I chanted the words, feeling power surge through me.


    A brilliant light flared from my hands, so bright it momentarily stole the attention of the two locked in battle below. And then—


    BOOOOM!


    A colossal wave of lava erupted forth, crashing straight into the monster’s massive body. Molten fire spread across its grotesque form, engulfing it in an unstoppable inferno.


    I called this spell Colossal Inferno.


    It wasn’t just a big fireball—it was a trap. Once caught inside, the opponent would be surrounded by searing flames and molten lava, locked in place, unable to act.


    At least, that was the idea.


    But even as I watched, I knew—this thing wasn’t going to stay trapped for long.


    "Rwaaaagggrrrrrr!"


    The monster let out an ear-splitting roar, its grotesque mouth stretching wide as it began forcing the lava away, shaking it off like water.


    It was working—kind of. The beast was definitely taking damage, but not nearly enough.


    This thing wasn’t just big. It was tough.


    And I had a sinking feeling that I was about to find out just how tough.


    While the giant was busy shaking off the lava, the swordsman below finally looked up at me.


    His face? Pure shock.


    Yeah, I got it. Seeing an eight-year-old chant high-tier magic wasn’t exactly an everyday thing. Even I was still trying to wrap my head around how I pulled it off.


    To be fair, it was pretty insane for a kid my age. But hey, I worked hard for this! Though, I’d be lying if I said I fully understood the entire magic system yet. There was still a lot I didn’t know.


    But that was a problem for future me.


    Right now, the giant was still standing. And I wasn’t about to give it a break.


    I raised my arms again, preparing my next spell.


    A wind spell.


    This time, I wanted to cut through its skin—see just how tough this thing really was.


    "Winds of ruin, tear and shred, let none stand where you have tread!"


    SWISSSHHH!


    A massive blade of wind erupted from my palm, slicing through the air with a sharp, whistling sound. It took the shape of an enormous axe, spiraling straight toward the monster’s body.


    And just like that, I had unleashed two high-tier spells in a row—without even breaking a sweat.


    Nice.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    I had definitely improved my mana reserves. Still not sure what my limit was, but if my studies were right, I could probably cast at least ten more spells before feeling the drain. Maybe even more.


    Which meant…


    I was kinda amazing, huh?


    Surely above average. Probably.


    But there was still a giant, man-eating monster in front of me, so now wasn’t the time to get cocky.


    The sight of the bodies on the ground still clung to my mind, no matter how much I tried to shake it off.


    Even now, I could feel my stomach twisting, my hands trembling. I had the urge to puke again, but I forced it down. Not the time.


    But despite all that—


    What a view.


    No, not the corpses. Definitely not the corpses.


    I meant the battle unfolding in front of me—one swordsman, standing against a monstrous abomination, fighting for his life.


    It was like a scene straight out of a painting.


    A masterpiece of courage. Of refusing to back down in the face of death.


    If—no, when—I survived this, I was definitely making this my next painting.


    But before I got too lost in my artistic vision—


    BOOM!


    The spell I had just cast finally collided with the monster’s body.


    I squinted, watching closely. Did it work?


    A small tear ran across its grotesque, scar-covered skin—not deep, but noticeable.


    Which told me something important.


    It wasn’t completely indestructible. But it was tough. Tough enough that a high-level attack spell only managed to scratch it.


    "Damn it." I muttered under my breath.


    I took a moment to analyze the situation before rushing in blindly again.


    The giant was rampaging now, swinging its grotesque arms and shattering rock formations with every wild strike. Meanwhile, the swordsman below was doing a damn good job of dodging—barely staying ahead of the monster’s attacks.


    I waited for my Painter’s Eye to kick in, to highlight a weak point, but… nothing.


    Figures. If my skill didn’t activate, that meant this thing was stronger than me.


    Which was a problem.


    But I couldn’t just rely on my skill to do all the thinking for me. If I wanted to be more effective, I needed to analyze my opponent myself.


    So, let’s break it down:


    ?Attacks with brute force. No weapons, just those massive arms.


    ?Incredibly aggressive. No hesitation, no retreat.


    ?Great hearing. Reacts to movement and sound more than sight.


    ?Exposes its neck whenever it attacks.


    That last one? That was key.


    I had already tested attacking its stomach, and it did absolutely nothing. The damn thing just absorbed my spell like a sponge.


    Which meant… if I wanted to actually hurt this thing, I needed a different approach.


    And that meant working with the swordsman instead of just nuking the battlefield from a distance.


    "Hey!" I shouted, grabbing both the swordsman’s attention—and, unfortunately, the monster’s.


    "Make it tilt its head!"


    I just hoped he’d listen. If not, this fight was going to drag on for hours, and I wasn’t exactly thrilled about that. Working together was the only way to make this easier.


    And brute force? Not an option.


    This thing was too damn tough. If we wanted to win, we had to use our brains. That meant using our surroundings.


    Fights weren’t just about swinging swords and throwing spells—they were about control. Positioning. Strategy.


    And right now, I had a plan.


    There was a massive, sharp rock formation hanging from the dungeon’s ceiling—the perfect natural weapon. If we could bait the giant, make it tilt its head back at just the right moment, I could bring that entire formation crashing down on its soft, exposed neck.


    Easy, right?


    Surprisingly, the swordsman actually listened. And not just that—he understood what I was trying to do.


    Smart guy. That was a very good sign.


    But our first attempt?


    Yeah, it failed. Miserably.


    The giant swung its massive arms, sending a wave of rock debris exploding across the battlefield.


    And, unfortunately, the swordsman caught a direct hit.


    "Gahhh!" He let out a pained shout as he went flying, crashing into the ground. His arms trembled violently from the impact, barely able to hold his sword.


    The monster stomped forward, each step shaking the ground as it loomed over the kneeling swordsman. It was taking its time, savoring the moment, eager to end him.


    But that was fine by me.


    Because in its arrogance, the giant had taken the bait.


    It had unknowingly positioned itself right under the massive, jagged rock formation hanging from the ceiling.


    I felt a brief moment of hesitation.


    Would this actually work?


    No, it had to.


    I quickly chanted a low-tier spell—just enough to dislodge the rock. No need to overdo it.


    And as soon as I did, I yelled, making sure my voice echoed through the cavern.


    The monster, sensitive to sound, immediately snapped its head toward me—exactly what I wanted.


    Then, for good measure, I hurled the sword I had picked up earlier.


    The blade spun through the air and—by some divine stroke of luck—hit the monster square in the forehead.


    "RAAAHWAH!!"


    It let out a furious roar, throwing its head back in frustration.


    And right at that moment—


    CRACK!


    The sharp rock formation above came loose, plummeting straight down—right onto its exposed, soft neck.


    I held my breath.


    Then, when I saw it connect perfectly, I exhaled, wide-eyed.


    "It worked!" I muttered in disbelief.


    The freaking plan actually worked.


    I had hesitated. I had doubted.


    But in the end—it worked.


    The monster collapsed, blood gushing from its mangled neck.


    And the swordsman?


    Yeah, he dropped too.


    The moment the giant hit the ground, he slumped over, completely unconscious, his body finally giving out. Now, he lay motionless on the floor, right next to his already lifeless comrades.


    [You have earned XP]


    Current Level: Initiate


    XP: 30-> 55/100


    …Well. That was one way to end a fight.


    Hours later.


    Dragging an unconscious adult out of a dungeon was not fun.


    I had spent who knows how long trying to haul this guy up, eventually resorting to propping him against my shoulder and half-dragging him toward the exit.


    Now that I got a closer look at him, I noticed something.


    His earrings.


    They were unique, unlike anything I had seen before. Each one bore an intricate phoenix emblem, almost like a crest or insignia.


    Interesting.


    He had dark brown hair, looked to be in his twenties, and—judging by the fact that he wasn’t dead—was probably tougher than he looked.


    As we finally neared the exit, I let out a breath of relief.


    We were alive. Just the two of us. Because, yeah—his comrades?


    Didn’t see a single one still breathing.


    When we reached the entrance, I spotted Rhea. She was still sitting there, watching over the injured woman from earlier.


    Except…


    The woman, who had barely been clinging to life before, was now sitting upright and conscious.


    I blinked. How was she even alive?


    Rhea, as expected, rushed over immediately, her face full of worry as she kneeled beside the unconscious man I was barely managing to hold up with my tiny, exhausted body.


    "Thank goodness." I muttered, relieved that someone else could finally take over. My arms were about ten seconds away from giving up on life.


    I took a moment to catch my breath, then gestured toward the woman nearby—the one who had somehow survived.


    "That’s a relief, she’s ali—"


    I cut myself off.


    Because right then, I noticed something strange.


    Rhea had already started tending to the swordsman’s wounds, her hands hovering just above his injuries. But what really caught my attention—was the light.


    A soft, green glow flickered to life in her palm.


    I blinked.


    "Hey…" I said, still catching up with what I was seeing. "Is that… healing magic?"


    Rhea glanced at me, hesitated for a moment, then slowly nodded.


    So it was healing magic.


    My eyes widened as I watched up close for the first time—the way the glow pulsed gently, how the wounds started to mend without a single bandage or potion.


    A magic that could heal injuries almost instantly. No reliance on medical supplies, no long recovery times. Just pure, efficient healing.


    But what really got me?


    Rhea was doing it so effortlessly—so naturally—like this was just another part of her daily routine.


    After finishing up with the swordsman, Rhea turned to me and—without asking—started healing me too.


    Not that I was injured.


    "Hey, hey, I’m fine!" I protested, waving my hands. "No wounds here. Totally intact."


    She ignored me. Just forced the healing magic onto me like I had no say in the matter.


    And honestly?


    It felt… weird.


    Not painful. Not warm, either. More like a cool breeze seeping into my muscles, running through my veins, fixing things I didn’t even know were broken.


    I stared at my hands, flexing them a little.


    So this is what healing magic feels like…


    "You look like you’ve seen a ghost," Rhea said, laughing as she caught me way too focused on watching her work.


    "Well, this is the first time I’ve ever seen healing magic in action," I admitted.


    Her ears twitched slightly. "First time?"


    I nodded. "Yep. Never seen it before."


    I glanced at her again, still trying to process it.


    Honestly, if someone told me that this bullied elf girl knew magic, I wouldn’t have believed them. Not because of anything she did—just because I never sensed it in her.


    When I first met Rhea, she didn’t feel like a magic user. There was no overwhelming aura, no mystical presence.


    Just… a quiet, peaceful kind of existence.


    And yet, here she was. Healing people like it was nothing.


    Just as I was admiring how effortlessly Rhea had used her magic, it hit me.


    A sudden, violent flash of images.


    Bloody. Lifeless. Bodies.


    The scene burned into my mind like an afterimage, sending a chill down my spine. My stomach twisted, my vision blurred—before I knew it, I was gripping my head, doubling over, and—


    HURK!


    Yeah. That was me, puking my guts out.


    Rhea, who had been tending to me just seconds ago, quickly grabbed my back, her hands moving in small, careful circles. She was massaging me.


    It probably should’ve been embarrassing, but at that moment? I could not care less.


    My entire body was trembling, shaking uncontrollably. My legs felt numb, my eyes burned with unshed tears, and my breathing was erratic.


    Damn.


    Guess the shock of seeing actual corpses was finally catching up to me.


    Yeah, turns out digesting that kind of trauma is pretty damn hard.


    By the time I finally calmed down, I was sitting outside the carriage.


    Rhea sat beside me, while the woman we saved sat across from us, awake now. Meanwhile, the swordsman was still unconscious, probably enjoying the deepest nap of his life.


    And as we talked, Rhea and I had been right.


    They were adventurers. They had taken on a low-level dungeon mission—but what we fought inside?


    Yeah. Definitely not low-level.


    A monster like that shouldn’t have been in a dungeon like this. Something was off.


    This was also my first real encounter with adventurers. I’d read about knights, mercenaries, and soldiers before, but adventurers?


    Not much.


    But I did know one thing: Adventurers live for the journey. Some take on missions like this. Others go out to loot, explore, or get stronger.


    And in the end?


    It’s all about the rank.


    The higher the rank, the better the rewards. The higher the authority, the bigger the dungeons you can raid.


    Turns out, these adventurers were Acolytes—the second lowest rank in the system.


    My rank was still Initiate—the absolute lowest.


    But considering I survived that dungeon… I had a feeling that wasn’t going to last long.