A strange sensation spread around Ryn whenever he fought, a quiet field that seed to guide his actions and disrupt his enemies. The goblins’ movents slowed whenever they approached him, their attacks losing precision, while his own strikes landed with terrifying accuracy.
No one could clearly understand what he was doing.
It wasn’t a known skill.
It wasn’t flashy.
Yet it was overwhelmingly effective.
A skill worthy of a captain.
Even the experienced explorers who had fought beside him many tis still felt reassured watching him fight.
"Captain’s using it again," one whispered with a faint smile.
"Yeah... that strange pressure of his."
They didn’t understand it either. But they trusted it.
Nearby, Kael observed silently.
His sharp eyes followed Ryn’s movents, studying every detail.
The power Ryn displayed did not match what should be expected from a low-ranked explorer leading a bronze squad. His control, his presence, the strange influence over the battlefield... none of it aligned with the standards Kael had learned.
So the rumors about the Sixth Division were true.
Kael tightened his grip on his weapon, watching carefully, almost unconsciously admiring the man.
Ryn’s strength was not overwhelming in a destructive sense.
It was overwhelming in reliability.
Every movent had purpose. Every decision carried experience.
A man who had survived countless situations like this.
But Ryn didn’t allow them to remain spectators for long.
"Don’t just watch," he called out calmly, cutting down another goblin. "Move."
The words snapped them back to reality.
"You, wind user," he continued, pointing briefly without even looking, "push the goblins toward the shield line. Don’t scatter them."
"You two, combine your skills. Freeze the ground first, then strike. It’ll slow their feet."
"Spearman, wait for the opening. Your range is your advantage, not your fear."
His instructions flowed naturally even as he fought.
He demonstrated when needed, adjusting positions, correcting stances, and guiding their timing. When one explorer released a skill too early, Ryn imdiately showed him the proper mont, explaining briefly between movents.
"Control your breathing. Release after contact, not before."
Gradually, the formation improved.
A fire user synchronized his flas with a wind user’s push, creating a sweeping wave that drove several goblins into the shield line. A frost ability froze the ground beneath charging monsters, making them stumble into waiting blades.
The new explorers began to understand.
Battle was not just strength.
It was coordination.
It was timing and trust.
Ryn fought at the center of it all, his blade moving steadily, his strange field guiding both allies and enemies alike. The goblins grew disorganized, their numbers thinning rapidly under the controlled counterattack.
The experienced bronze squad mbers followed his commands without hesitation. Their movents showed complete trust, as if they had already entrusted their lives to him long ago.
There were no complaints.
No second guesses.
Only execution.
Slowly, the sa trust began to spread among the new explorers. Their fear faded, replaced by confidence, simply because Ryn stood among them.
Kael noticed it clearly.
The captain’s presence alone was changing the group.
Even he felt it.
A quiet desire to match that steadiness.
A faint sense of admiration.
The battle soon reached its end. The last goblin fell, and silence returned to the tunnel except for heavy breathing and the distant echoes of dripping water.
Ryn lowered his sword.
"Check your injuries. Gather yourselves. We move again in two minutes."
His tone remained calm, as if nothing extraordinary had occurred.
Yet the new explorers looked at him differently now.
With respect.
With relief.
Their paused journey through the dungeon soon continued.
Far behind the group, another figure moved quietly through the shadows.
Arthur.
Where the explorers saw danger, he saw opportunity.
The monsters that slipped past the main formation or were left behind beca his targets. He moved silently, his presence concealed, eliminating them one by one with effortless precision.
To him, their numbers ant little.
Each movent was clean and efficient, each strike fatal.
Yet he remained cautious.
He avoided drawing attention, especially after sensing the presence of additional bronze squad mbers nearby. Their senses were sharp, and unnecessary exposure would only complicate things.
So he stayed hidden.
From a distance, he observed the explorers ahead.
He had witnessed the bronze squad in action, and watching them deepened his understanding of the sixth division. His eyes followed Captain Ryn closely, studying every motion, every decision.
The rumors surrounding the bronze squad were not exaggerated.
Their captain was exceptional.
Arthur watched each strike, each command, analyzing the flow of the battle, the interaction between skills, the coordination of the team. He morized everything quietly.
Strength.
Experience.
Leadership.
It was a useful reference.
A faint smile appeared on his lips before he returned to collecting the scattered loot left behind by fallen monsters.
The fallen goblins yielded cores, crude weapons, and minor materials. To others they might seem insignificant, but Arthur gathered them efficiently, his movents swift and practiced.
When the battle ahead ended and the explorers resud their march, he simply followed at a safe distance.
Silent.
Unnoticed.
The dungeon remained tense, yet the group ahead now moved with greater confidence under Ryn’s leadership.
And from the shadows behind them, Arthur continued his quiet harvest as their journey out of the dungeon carried on.
Outside the dungeon entrance, Commander Lyra did not stand idle.
Her posture remained straight, her gaze fixed on the dark mouth of the gate, yet her mind was already moving far ahead of the situation. She was not worried about the rescue of the new explorers.
She trusted Ryn.
Not blindly, but with the confidence built from years of watching him fight, survive, and lead others back alive. If he had t them inside, then they would co out.
But the problem was no longer just survival.
The dungeon itself was changing.
Monsters kept mutating and respawning at a pace that should not have been possible. The flow of energy from the gate felt unstable, restless, and heavy in a way that made even veteran explorers uneasy.
This could not continue.
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