"Fifteen minutes?" That's quite a lot, triple the time I've been given on most levels. "Something big is going to happen on the other two levels, Glia. I hope you can support me if needed." I still have plenty of mana in the tank, around 60%. If that's not enough, I'll have to rely on Glia like I did during the attack on the Solar territory.

"You don't need to ask, I'll always support you, brother." Her answer makes my heart leap with joy. I had always wished for a younger sister in both my lives, and now I finally have one.

"It's time to eat something." Sitting down on the cushion, I take out some sandwiches from my storage. Glia immediately appears, staring at the food with the eyes of a miner who's just found gold. I hand her two, and I eat mine.

Glia has grown a bit, almost the size of a Beagle. She must be around 45 cm tall now. "Glia, will you be as big as your mother in the future?" Curiosity gets the best of me, and I can't help but ask.

She looks at me without stopping eating. "I'm not sure, but if I reach grade 4 or 5, I'll probably grow a lot." That could be a bit of a problem—it would be hard to move around with her if she were as massive as Sus. "Don't worry about that, our race can maintain a compact size if we wish. I don't know why Mother never showed you that." My concern fades as quickly as it came.

Glia explains a bit more about it. She doesn't know how she has that information, but she believes Sus left some knowledge embedded in her core before going into her deep slumber.

They have the massive form in which I first met Sus, and another form around 1.5 meters tall, similar to a jaguar in my previous world. I picture how Glia would look at that size, and I'm amazed—her beautiful fur will stand out even more in the future.

The fifteen minutes pass quickly; when you eat and talk with someone dear, time just flies. Glia immediately returns to my cube for the next levels.

"Level 7, eliminate the commanders at the entrance to the Death Knight's lair." Now I just have to fight commanders? That will be tricky. The one with the axe was an easy opponent because he was slow. If I have to face several of similar level with different abilities, things get complicated.

The commander skeleton was almost on par with Denosis from the previous dungeon and the skeleton from the first level. I need to prepare physically and mentally for these next two levels. From what I can guess, the Death Knight will be the final stage; that name alone sounds intimidating—it must be a variant equal to or stronger than the skeleton from the first level.

I walk down the tunnel. This dungeon has shown me this pattern multiple times—if I don't go looking for them, they'll come for me. Better to go and take the problem head-on. It takes less than a minute before the small cave starts expanding, opening into an enormous dome about 150 meters in radius—almost double the range of my domain. In the middle, three skeletons are staring straight at me.

At the front is a huge skeleton with a shield and sword, the largest of the three, wearing black armor made of some kind of steel. Another wears more flexible armor and holds a spear. The last wears a pitch-black robe and holds a staff in his hands.

"A typical three-man formation?" In a world where everything is centered on tournaments and combat, it's normal to know formations from childhood—it's part of growing up as a noble destined to be strong.

The urge to fight surges through my body, and mana and Imra inside me start to explode and take form. This time, I'm going all out. All my abilities activate almost simultaneously. I don't hold back and activate gravity right from the start.

I feel my fortified construct being enhanced thanks to the interwoven mana weave. For some time now, I've felt these two abilities could merge—something I must try in the near future.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Before I can taunt them with a few simple words, I have to block a spear aimed at my head from my left. The spearman must have used some movement skill to appear at my side. My sword and his spear create a sharp sound as they clash. His attack is heavy, forcing me to redirect it with my sword.

I press the attack to prevent him from gaining distance. It's better to fight in close range where I have the advantage. Two seconds are enough to show the clear difference in our skills—his speed and strength slightly surpass mine, but I keep the upper hand through close-range combat, multiple abilities, and superior weapon mastery.

I force him back, using his attack toward my shoulder to deflect his spear with my right sword while aiming a strike at his chest with my left arm. I redirect at the last moment, hitting only his stomach armor so I can duck under and avoid the shield-bearer's sword from behind. He then tries to bash me with his shield, forcing me to leap left.

"Are you both joining the party now?" It's not just the shield-bearer—the mage behind him is already firing dark mana orbs at me. His control over his spells is high, forcing me to create Joyeuse to destroy them. Just when I think I've stopped him, a massive dark-mana sword-axe crashes down on my position, making me use my charged steps to retreat several meters.

The shield skeleton charges toward where I reappeared, the spearman following closely, trying to block my sight with his teammate. That's useless with my domain letting me sense their movements without relying on sight. Even so, it's hard to dodge so many quick strikes while defending against spells and a hulking skeleton.

He finally lands a hit on my shoulder with his spear, nearly shattering my woven, fortified construct. I'm not the only one hurt—the shield-bearer has a deep chest cut, having pierced his body skill, denting his armor.

"I can't afford a blow-for-blow exchange." It's the truth. I can repair my armor and heal, but the mana cost is high. If I'm going to spend mana, it'll be offensively.

I form a plan in the few seconds I'm still being bombarded by mana and that damned spear. I let them get used to my movements, always retreating in every clash with the shield-bearer. This time will be different. His arm drops the sword to try to trap me, so I lunge forward, the spear behind grazing my neck. I use my movement skill to appear beside the spearman.

"Got you now." Gravity intensifies at that spot. The spearman hesitates to pull his spear back, giving me the opening to strike full force between his chest and stomach. His light armor has gaps my sword can slip through thanks to my domain and swordsmanship.

The hit sends the spearman flying, forcing me to dodge black spikes erupting from the floor. The shield-bearer blocks my view of the spearman, rushing at me. The spearman quickly rejoins—being undead, he feels no pain unless hit in the core.

Little by little, I wear him down with quick, precise strikes. The shield-bearer's armor is dented all over, on the verge of breaking. The mage casts fewer spells now from mana depletion, and I'm feeling a bit tired from constant mana expenditure.

The deadlock ends when I create a V4 sphere between me and the shield-bearer, detonating it with full power against his chest. That seems to have worn down his breastplate's durability until it finally shatters. I take those milliseconds of confusion to move in on the spearman—his spear grazes my leg, but I let it so I can land a double slash on his neck.

I endure the pain of the spear lodged in my thigh, breaking through his defenses with all my strength. His head flies off, and I stab a Joyeuse into his core. The impact sends him flying.

I use my charged steps to dodge the shield-bearer's sword and more spikes, yanking the spear out of my thigh. I endure the pain thanks to my ice core and do everything possible to remove the death affinity clinging to my wound. Once I finally succeed, I can heal—it's hard to do while dodging a hulking skeleton chasing me.

"Idiot, stop following me." Without support and with his breastplate gone, he becomes easier prey, taking cuts all over his chest. I haven't hit his core, but my death affinity is stronger than his, and his bones are cracking from accumulated damage.

He's almost dead, his speed now comparable to a normal skeleton—there's no way he can catch me. I rush toward the mage, whose spells have lost bite after nearly ten minutes of nonstop casting.

He blocks one sword with his staff, but not the other. I cut his chest, abdomen, and arms before the shield-bearer reaches me. With a quick move to my right, I create three full-powered Joyeuse—two aimed at the shield-bearer and one at the mage. Both barely block them, left vulnerable enough for me to stab the mage in the chest and tear off one of his arms.

I dodge a sword by mere centimeters, then thrust my blade like a rapier into the mage's core. He collapses like a puppet with its strings cut.

The shield-bearer lasts no more than five seconds after that, unable to handle my speed and power. "Finally, all three have fallen." I'm exhausted, my breathing ragged, my mana below 20%. "Now only the last level remains." I stare at the massive door ahead, where the Death Knight must be waiting for me to defeat him.

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