Chapter 99: Chapter Ninety Nine
"I love you."
"I love you more."
"Ahem."
The voice cut through the phone’s tinny speakers, sharp enough to make Yeon glance up.
Rose stood at her elbow.
"Captain, we’ve completed the dungeon raid," she reported, her expression caught sowhere between professional deference and mild exasperation.
Yeon nodded. "Mm."
Then she noticed Rose’s face.
"I’m getting used to people saying ’I love you.’ It’s weird." She perked up, the thought catching montum. "When do you think it’s the best ti to say it? And what do you do when soone says it when you’re not ready to say it back?" A pause. "Is it worse when the person doesn’t say it at all?"
"Captain." Rose’s voice cut cleanly through the spiral. "Calm down."
A small smile softened her mouth.
"Breathe."
Yeon stilled, lips pressing together.
Rose sighed, softer now. "You’re thinking too much. ’I love you’ isn’t a tactic. You don’t say it because the mont looks right. You say it when it’s true."
Yeon hesitated. "And if it’s not?"
"Then don’t say it." Rose’s reply ca simply. "Don’t lie to keep sothing comfortable. That kind of lie doesn’t stay small."
Yeon looked away. "But what do you say instead?"
Rose shrugged. "The truth. Just... not the full version they’re asking for." A faint smile touched her lips. "Tell them you care. That you’re happy. That you’re not there yet—but you’re not running either."
Yeon’s brows knit. "And if they don’t say it at all?"
"Then stop waiting on words." Rose held her gaze. "Watch what they do. So people feel deeply and speak slowly. Others just enjoy being felt."
Yeon exhaled, her shoulders dropping. "...So when is the right ti?"
Rose glanced at her, amusent flickering in her eyes. "When you’re not saying it to hear it back." A beat. "When holding it in feels more dishonest than saying it out loud."
Silence settled between them.
Then Rose smirked. "And if you’re asking
this much, Captain... you’re closer than you think. You just don’t trust your own timing yet."
"It’s the movies I’ve been watching." Yeon sighed, tucking her phone into her pocket. "Love is too exaggerated. Too whimsical."
Rose tilted her head. "I’ve been aning to ask, Captain. Where did you get a phone that works in the Tower?"
"I know a guy." Yeon smirked.
She turned her attention to the party mbers now gathered before her.
"Rose."
Rose stepped to her side. "Captain."
"This is the forty-ninth dungeon, right?"
"Yes."
Yeon nodded, approval settling into her posture. "We’ve done a great job. You guys especially. I’m proud."
She scanned their faces, asuring the weight of their attention.
"Since the next dungeon will be the last, I want to commorate it with a bang." She let the pause stretch. "The next trial will be harder than the previous ones, so we’ll have a taste of what we may be facing soon enough."
She announced it without ceremony: "An S-Ranked dungeon."
A wave of surprise rippled through her fifteen squad mbers—surprise tempered by acceptance. They had been preparing for this, even if they hadn’t said it aloud.
"Fret not." Yeon waved a hand. "I’m in charge of your safety, and your safety is my priority." She paused. "Well, my life trumps that priority."
She shrugged. A short laugh rolled through the party.
"I’ll take the lead this ti. You’ll get training opportunities with the dregs. Anything that threatens your safety, Rose will handle. If it threatens her safety"—her voice dropped—"then it’s the boss monster. That bastard’s mine."
She placed a hand on Rose’s shoulder. "Nobody threatens Rose."
"Yahh!" The party mbers cooed.
"Perfect." Yeon clapped once—a habit she’d picked up from Zeke, who had ntioned using it to command attention in his classroom. "Tomorrow, we raid the dungeon. Rest well today."
She waved, turned, and walked away without looking back.
---
The mont Yeon stepped into her room, her phone rang.
She answered with a smile already forming. She knew who it was.
"Yooo, baby girl."
Zeke’s voice crackled through the speaker.
"Who’s a baby?" Yeon shot back.
"Yo, adult female?"
Yeon snorted. Then they both burst into laughter.
"You called at the right ti. I just got back to my room."
"You have a room?"
"Of course."
"I thought you lived in my head rent-free, the way you’re always on my mind."
Yeon could hear the shrug in his voice—the cheesy line delivered with practiced ease.
"Shut the fuck up, you cheesy fool."
"Heh. I heard cheese is good."
"Cheese isn’t good for ."
"Heh. That’s because your doctor prescribed ."
"You’re becoming too flirty, Ezekiel."
"My governnt na." His voice held mock shock.
"I’ve been watching a lot of movies recently, you know."
"You left ani?"
"Nah. Movies seem to capture what I feel at the mont . But they do tend to over-exaggerate it as well."
"Oh? I wonder what you’re watching them for."
"I’m watching for love." A pause. "Apparently, a boy is flirting with
a little too much."
"What? A boy?" Zeke’s voice pitched upward. "I’ll have to beat his ass. Doesn’t he know you have a man?"
"Who designated you as a man? You’re an overgrown child."
"Mummy?"
"You have a mommy fetish?"
"Nah. I have a you fetish."
A mont of silence stretched between them.
Then: "Okay. You were saying sothing serious. I’m just a chronic flirt."
"Does that an you flirt with other girls?"
"I’m legally blind in both eyes. I don’t see anyone other than you."
"We’re on a phone call. You’re not seeing ."
"My point. I can’t see right now."
"You fool."
---
The next morning, Rose found Yeon gearing up with an uncommon lightness in her step.
"You seem chipper," Rose observed.
"Oh. I do?" Yeon looked at her, then smiled. "I just realized—I have the future ahead of . I can’t be stuck on movies that don’t understand my personal problems."
"I see." Rose’s tone made it clear she did not, in fact, see.
"Ahh." Yeon waved a hand. "I don’t care about who says ’I love you’ to whom. I’m clear on the actions I’ve seen and experienced. And I’m not a traditional girl. Why should I care about traditional love rituals when I should be killing monsters and getting stronger?"
Her eyes hardened with conviction.
"I can’t be the generic love interest. I’m the main character after all."
She raved, then pointed toward the corridor: "To the dungeon!"
Rose watched her go, a smile spreading across her face. She hadn’t understood half of what her captain had said. But her captain had resolved whatever had been troubling her.
She lifted her voice. "You heard the captain. To the dungeon."
---
The dungeon had five sections.
The first section held B-Rank monsters. Each progressive section mixed B-Rank and A-Rank threats, with the fourth section holding only A-Rank elites. The final section contained the boss: an S-Ranked monster coiled around a pillar of raw crystal.
The seventeen-mber party entered the first chamber and found themselves facing twenty-five B-Ranked Dire wolves.
"At the ready," Yeon called.
Weapons cleared sheaths. Gaits settled into combat stances. Her fifteen mbers ranged from B-Rank to A-Rank; Rose was the only S-Rank
"How about we make this fun?" Yeon twirled her sword. "No abilities for this round. Whoever kills the most—other than Rose and —gets thirty percent of the loot from this section."
"Yaah!" Her party mbers cheered.
"Then let’s get to work."
---
The first section ended in twelve minutes.
Yeon had not drawn her sword. She stood at the center of the carnage, arms folded, watching her party work. The Dire wolves ca in waves—three, then five, then seven—and each wave broke against the party’s formation with the sa predictable result. Swords found throats. Spears found chests. The wolves fell.
By the ti the last body hit the stone floor, the party had lost no one. Three minor injuries: a gash to the forearm, a puncture to the shoulder, a twisted ankle from uneven footing. Rose tended to them with efficient hands while the others caught their breath.
"Seven," one of the fighters called out, chest heaving.
"Eight," another countered.
"You’re both wrong. I got nine."
Yeon listened to them bicker, a small smile playing at her lips. The numbers didn’t matter. What mattered was that they were still standing, still eager, still hungry for the next room.
"Section two," she announced. "Sa rules. Let’s see if you can beat your own scores."
The party moved as one, boots echoing against stone.
---
Section two was slower.
The monsters were B-Rank—sa as the first section—but the terrain had changed. Narrow corridors forced the party into tighter formations. Ambush points favored the creatures, who knew the ground and used it ruthlessly.
Rose handled the rear guard, her blade a silent trono cutting down anything that erged from the shadows. Yeon held the center, not fighting—just watching. Cataloging weaknesses. Tracking positioning. Noting which party mbers flourished under pressure and which began to flag.
By the ti they reached the section’s end, the party’s earlier energy had dulled. Not broken. Tempered.
"Fifteen minutes," Yeon said. "Faster than I expected."
She ant it. Her tone carried no condescension.
"Section three. No rules. Use your abilities. Don’t die."
The party nodded. Grim. Ready.
---
Section three was where the real work began.
B-Rank monsters mixed with A-Rank elites. The terrain opened into a cavern whose ceiling vanished into shadow, the floor slick with moisture. The party’s formation shifted: tanks forward, damage dealers staggered behind, Rose and Yeon positioned to respond to any breach.
The first A-Rank ca at them from above.
A winged serpent, scales dark, eyes burning with the particular intelligence of sothing that had killed before. It dove toward the party’s exposed flank—not toward the tanks, not toward the damage dealers, but at the exact point where the formation thinned.
Rose intercepted it.
She moved before Yeon could give the order, her blade eting the serpent’s descending claw in a shower of sparks. The impact drove her back a step. She held. The serpent screeched, recoiling, and the tanks closed the gap, dragging its attention to where it could be contained.
Yeon watched Rose shake out her wrist, expression unreadable.
"Keep pressure," Yeon called. "Don’t let it breathe."
The party answered.
---
Section four took forty minutes.
A-Rank monsters exclusively. No waves now—just sustained, grinding combat against enemies that refused to fall easily. The party’s resources began to deplete. Mana reserves dropped. Wounds accumulated faster than Rose could tend them.
Yeon finally drew her sword.
She moved only where her party mbers were overwheld—stepping in, killing swiftly, checking on her people with a nod. That was all. A nod. Her party mbers knew what it ant. They continued fighting. They did not fail.
The last A-Rank fell to a coordinated strike: a spear through its chest, a blade across its throat, an ability collapsing the ground beneath its feet. The party stood over it, breathing hard, bloody, unbroken.
Yeon sheathed her sword.
"Section five. Rose, with . Everyone else, stay here."
"No." A fighter stepped forward. "Captain—"
"That’s an order." Her voice was quiet. It did not invite argunt.
The fighter’s mouth closed.
Rose fell into step beside Yeon as they walked toward the final corridor. Behind them, the party watched in silence.
---
The boss room was vast.
The ceiling dissolved into darkness. Walls were lined with old bones, old weapons, the remnants of previous challengers. At the center, coiled around a pillar of raw crystal, waited the serpent’s greater sibling.
Larger. Darker. Its scales bore scars that suggested it had survived things that should have killed it.
S-Rank.
Rose stopped at the entrance. "Captain—"
"You stay here too."
Yeon stepped forward alone.
The serpent’s head lifted. Its eyes found hers. For a mont, neither moved.
Then Yeon drew her sword, and the serpent lunged, and the world beca violence.
---
The fight was not elegant.
The serpent was faster than it looked, stronger than it had any right to be, and utterly without rcy. Its claws raked across Yeon’s guard, leaving furrows in her blade. Its tail swept low, forcing her to leap or be crushed. Its fangs—she dodged those more than once, feeling the wind of their passage against her throat.
Yeon did not retreat.
She advanced.
She carved a line across its flank—shallow, but it bled. She drove her shoulder into its neck when it tried to coil around her, breaking its grip through sheer stubbornness. She took a hit to her ribs that she would feel for weeks and answered it with a thrust through its jaw.
The serpent screeched. The sound was not pain. It was frustration. It was not accustod to prey that fought back.
Yeon smiled.
"I’ve got places to be," she said. "So if you don’t mind—"
She drove her blade through its skull.
The serpent convulsed once, twice, and went still.
Yeon stood over it, breathing hard, her arm trembling from the effort of the final thrust. The cavern was silent. Through the corridor, distant shouts reached her—cheering, she realized. They were cheering.
She pulled her sword free and turned toward the entrance.
Rose was standing where she’d left her, eyes wide, mouth slightly open.
"Captain—"
"Send the notification," Yeon said. "We’re done here."
She walked past Rose, back toward the party. The battle had been useful—a test of her newly established sword combat style, limited to what she could do without relying on her abilities. It had proven beneficial.
---
The trial completion notification appeared before she reached the corridor’s end.
[ GROUP TRIAL COMPLETE. ]
[ CLEARED: 50 DUNGEONS. ]
[ RANK: A. ]
[ REWARDS: PENDING DISTRIBUTION. ]
Yeon dismissed it with a thought.
Now, she had to focus on her fifth trial. But first, she needed to bring her party up to par. The weakest among them should be A-Rank at minimum.
As for herself—it was ti to beco a saint.
But first, a break. And after that, the group’s reunion.
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