Is It Wrong To Level Up In A Dungeon?

Chapter 33. To Start a War

Haruhime nodded weakly.

Aisha looked back at Bell. "Then I'll tell you this once. If you're going to fight Ishtar... you better be ready to face hell."

She let go of Haruhime slowly.

"I won't stop you anymore," Aisha murmured. "But if you die, don't expect me to cry about it."

Bell gave a small nod. "Fair enough."

As the last word fell between them, the three stood still—Bell, Aisha, and Haruhime.

War was no longer a distant threat.

It had just been declared.

A low rumble rolled through the stone corridors.

It was subtle at first—just a tremor in the floor. But it grew, reverberating through the very bones of the passage. The sound of footsteps. Dozens. Maybe more.

Bell's expression hardened.

"They're coming," Aisha muttered, one hand drifting toward her sword hilt. "Ishtar's scouts."

From the shadows behind him, Igris stepped forward. Cloaked in writhing black mist, the silent knight moved like an omen. His glowing eyes scanned the darkness ahead, blade unsheathed.

Baruka emerged next, slinking from Bell's shadow like a predator ready to strike. Twin daggers glinted in the torchlight, his form low and ready.

Then came Balak—the Infernal Juggernaut. Towering and broad, flames flickered along the edges of his teal armor-like exoskin. He hoisted his greatsword onto one shoulder, a quiet growl humming from his chest.

Haruhime's breath caught as the soldiers assembled around Bell like a tide of living shadow.

Aisha eyed the trio with sharp focus, then glanced at Bell.

"You've got a damn army in your back pocket," she muttered. "No wonder you think you can take on a goddess."

Bell didn't respond immediately. He stepped forward instead, placing himself between Haruhime and the oncoming echo of danger.

He would summon Hestia's Knife in one hand. In his other, he summoned the cold steel of the Knight Killer. The two blades gleamed—one forged from divine fire, the other honed to slay tyrants.

He glanced over his shoulder.

"Then we move," he said, voice steady. "Together."

Aisha hesitated for only a heartbeat.

Then, with a firm nod, she drew her own blade. "Let's give them hell."

A torchlight flickered at the far end of the corridor.

Then another. And another.

Shadows stretched as figures emerged—a squadron of Ishtar Familia scouts, lightly armored but swift, their weapons drawn and eyes gleaming in the dark.

"There!" one of them shouted, pointing straight at Bell.

The corridor exploded into chaos.

Baruka vanished with a hiss of shadow, darting between the enemy ranks like a specter. His daggers danced with deadly grace, slicing tendons and slitting throats before the scouts could even react.

Balak charged forward like a living siege engine. A single swing of his sword sent three scouts flying, the walls cracking from the force of the impact. Fire licked the edges of his body as he roared, driving terror into their hearts.

Igris met their vanguard head-on, parrying a flurry of strikes and answering each one with elegant brutality. His greatsword swept in arcs of darkness, carving through steel and bone alike.

Bell moved behind them, flanking left. He ducked under a thrown dagger and surged forward, Hestia's Knife blazing with heat. His blade struck true—once to disarm, then to disable. The Knight Killer followed, cleaving through a spear haft and its wielder's resolve in a single motion.

Aisha fought like a whirlwind of steel and precision. Every movement fluid, every strike calculated. She stayed near Haruhime, cutting down any scout who dared to close in.

Bell's team was outnumbered—but they fought like true skilled warriors.

The corridor trembled under their clash, the smell of sweat, steel, and magic thick in the air.

In the brief lull between skirmishes, Bell turned to Haruhime.

"Stay close," he said, voice low but firm.

She nodded, eyes wide with awe and disbelief. Never had she imagined she'd be defended like this—by an army summoned from shadows and a boy who looked death in the eye without flinching.

More scouts rounded the bend—reinforcements.

"Igris, with me. Baruka, flank. Balak, front line."

The shadows surged forward once again.

Bell ran with them.

Not as prey.

But as a warrior.

And with every step, the light of his resolve burned brighter—against Ishtar, against fear, against the fate Haruhime had resigned herself to.

Tonight, they would bear witness to something more powerful than magic.

Hope sharpened into action.