Is It Wrong To Level Up In A Dungeon?

Chapter 33. To Start a War

The clash of steel and muscle sent shockwaves echoing through the stone halls of the Dungeon. Aisha charged again, her enchanted strength warping the air as she swung with unrelenting ferocity. Bell ducked under her fist, pivoting to her flank with precise footwork, and retaliated with a swift upward slash.

Steel met flesh—Aisha hissed as the blade grazed her side, crimson staining her tunic.

"Not bad, rabbit," she growled, wiping the blood with the back of her hand. "You've got bite after all."

Bell said nothing, his eyes locked on hers, burning with determination. He could feel it—her speed, her strength—it was unnatural. Magical. His suspicions flared.

She's under an enchantment.

Another fist came flying—he blocked it with his forearm, but the force launched him into the wall with a loud crack. Dust rained from the ceiling. Bell coughed, pushing himself up from the rubble.

"Still standing?" Aisha mocked, cracking her knuckles. "You should be on your knees by now."

"Not... a chance," Bell chuckled. "I was holding back."

Aisha grinned, "Sure you were."

His shadow quivered—alive with movement.

"Come forth," he whispered, voice calm despite the storm. "Igris. Baruka. Balak."

In an instant, three dark forms erupted from his shadow like specters from the abyss.

Igris, the silent knight in blackened armor, stepped forward with his greatsword glowing faintly in the Dungeon's gloom.

Baruka, nimble and elusive, twirled his twin daggers, a smirk curling beneath his hooded face.

Balak, the towering brute, let out a low growl as he slammed his sword against the ground.

"What the hell—?!" Aisha staggered back, startled by the sudden appearance of the soldiers. "You've got your own army?!"

"They're my allies," Bell said, rising to his feet. "And together... we don't lose."

Aisha barely had time to react before Balak charged, sword swinging in a brutal arc. She ducked, only for Baruka to flash in from the side, blades slicing at her legs. She parried, but Igris was already there, his greatsword coming down like a meteor.

Aisha blocked, barely—her arms shaking under the force. The ground cracked beneath her feet. She grit her teeth, adrenaline pumping.

"Damn it...!" she spat. "You're fighting dirty!"

"This isn't a game!" Bell shouted, lunging in from behind Igris.

Their blades clashed again—but this time, Bell had the upper hand. Igris's pressure, Baruka's feints, and Balak's wild strength forced Aisha on the defensive. She managed to fend them off—but only barely, her breathing growing ragged.

One final coordinated assault—Baruka swept her leg, Balak's fist followed through with a thunderous strike to her gut. Aisha stumbled. Bell rushed in, his dagger glowing faintly.

With a blur of motion, Bell slipped past her guard and pressed his blade to her neck.

Aisha froze.

"...You win," she said breathlessly, chest rising and falling. "Tch... you really are something else."

The magic aura around her flickered—and dissipated.

As if on cue, soft footsteps echoed from the corridor behind them. A figure stepped into view, her golden hair glowing under the Dungeon's faint light.