“Foolish human.
Are you here to meet your end?” the Goblin King asked arrogantly.
“Stop talking, will you?” Michael demanded.
The Goblin King, still seated on its throne, rose to its feet.
It was a Hobgoblin with a well-defined, muscular build.
Beside it rested a large club, stained with dried blood.
Michael didn’t need to guess whose blood it was—the Goblin King had clearly left it uncleaned to flaunt its might.
“Say your last prayers, human.
You will die now!” the Goblin King roared, charging toward Michael.
A D-rank monster was far faster than an average person.
Even though Michael wasn’t an ordinary human, he still couldn’t react in time.
The Goblin King reached him in an instant and swung its massive club.
Michael barely managed to raise Void Slayer in the nick of time, but the impact sent him flying across the room.
He slammed into the wall with a groan of pain.
“Alright… that hurt,” Michael muttered.
“Hummm!”
Void Slayer vibrated.
“No, buddy.
The monster’s corpse can’t disappear, or it will raise suspicions about me,” Michael refused, understanding the sword’s suggestion.
“Humm!”
“Hmm?
You can use another skill that keeps the body intact but affects the soul the same way it did with those goblins?” Michael asked with keen interest.
“Humm!”
“Cool.
What are you waiting for?
Show him!” Michael said with a grin.
“Are you laughing at your own funeral?” the Goblin King mocked.
“Nope.
Quite the opposite, actually.
I’m laughing at yours,” Michael snickered excitedly.
He stretched out his arm and swung Void Slayer.
Boom!
A deep, oppressive pressure descended from the sword, forcing the Goblin King to its knees.
The monster’s eyes filled with helplessness as it struggled in vain.
“Please, wait.
Stop.
Don’t—”
The Goblin King couldn’t finish its plea.
Its body collapsed to the ground like a soulless doll.
“You were saying?” Michael forced out, breathing heavily.
He lay on the ground, completely drained of energy once again.
After resting for twenty minutes, Michael rose to his feet, ready to leave the dungeon.
“Humm!”
“What?” Michael asked in shock.
He followed Void Slayer’s guidance and moved toward a hidden path behind the Goblin King’s throne.
The narrow gap was so well concealed that most people would never notice it.
Michael squeezed through the passage and found himself in a completely different room.
It was dark, illuminated only by a single glowing stone.
“Are you sure this is the reason dungeons continue to function?” Michael asked the sword.
The vibrations from Void Slayer reassured him.
Through their connection, the sword advised him to cut the glowing stone to completely shut down the dungeon.
“Sadly, buddy, I can’t.
This dungeon is the main source of livelihood for the village.
Destroying it would cause more harm than good.
Plus, I don’t have the money to pay for property damage,” Michael explained.
Still, he was genuinely fascinated by the glowing stone.
As a prince, he had seen countless research projects funded by his father and previous kings on how to close dangerous dungeons—none had ever succeeded.
And now, the solution was right in front of him.
“Tch.
How sad.
If only there was a way to shut it down without affecting the village’s income,” Michael muttered.
“Hummm!”
“There is?
You really are worth every single penny!” Michael praised excitedly.
According to Void Slayer, it could sever a specific function of the stone without stopping monster production entirely.
The dungeon operated like an open system with constant mana flow.
The stone drew mana from the atmosphere to create monster bodies, while their souls were recycled.
When a monster died, the stone captured the soul and used it to form a new body.
Void Slayer’s solution was elegant: destroy only the function that trapped and recycled the souls.
The dungeon would then produce soulless monster bodies that could still be hunted, preserving the village’s economy.
“Let’s get to work then,” Michael muttered.
He swung Void Slayer.
The blade passed through the stone like an intangible weapon, cleanly severing the soul-trapping function.
“That’s it.
Now, let’s get out of here.
My job is done,” Michael said, exhausted but already looking forward to receiving his payment.
Michael left the dungeon.
Void Slayer had chosen to remain hidden in an interdimensional space.
All Michael had to do was call for it, and the sword would appear instantly.
“I’m done,” Michael informed John the moment he emerged.
“Done?
That fast?” John asked in disbelief.
Michael had only been inside for roughly two hours—an incredibly short time.
Even the strongest fighters in the village, with help from others, usually took at least three hours.
“Yup.
Now let your porters do their job.
I’m leaving,” Michael said, preparing to depart.
“Wait.
I want to check for myself to see if you’re lying,” John said, grabbing Michael’s arm.
He clearly didn’t trust him.
He suspected Michael had simply hidden near the dungeon entrance for two hours.
“Hah.
Enough with your theatrics.
If you don’t trust me, it’s becoming annoying!” Michael said coldly, his icy gaze fixed on John.
John flinched, surprised by the sudden coldness.
“I see.
You’re right.
The porters will handle it,” John quickly backtracked.
“Good,” Michael replied, turning to leave.
“At least I’m doing one thing right in this life,” Michael thought, recalling how much of a pushover he had been as a prince in his previous life.
Michael was nearing the village when, to his surprise, he saw it engulfed in flames.
“What the hell is going on?” Michael muttered, breaking into a run.
As he reached the village, he witnessed bandits laughing hysterically while dragging women and children indiscriminately.
They plundered everything of value without restraint.
Michael was furious.
He hadn’t felt such rage in a long time.
While moving through the edge of the forest, he encountered one of the bandits.
“Hey, guys!
We got a free fatso who was hiding in the sewers!” the bandit called out to his comrades.
“Our leader said the rest of the men are no longer useful, so you’ll be dying sadly, fatso,” the bandit snickered, raising his sword to strike Michael.
Michael remained calm and simply communicated with the bandit’s sword.
Since the sword was low level, he was still low level, communication and control were possible.
The bandit swung down, but his sword vibrated violently, rejecting the bandit’s action.