Level Up The Colony
Chapter 34: Den

Chapter 34: Den

Timothy charged in without hesitation.

He was short on time and needed to finish this quickly.

More importantly, he needed strength.

To him, these creatures were nothing more than free stats.

The Volcanic Cliff Drakes, which resembled mutated lizards, moved in organized groups, but none had more than five members.

It didn’t matter.

With his enhanced perception and the machete in his grip, he overwhelmed them single-handedly.

It was a slaughter.

From an outsider’s perspective, the true monster in this battle wasn’t the drakes, it was Timothy.

His blade carved through them with chilling efficiency, slicing through flesh and bone with minimal resistance.

He kept his movements sharp and controlled, wasting no energy while maximizing damage.

Heads flew.

Bodies collapsed.

The drakes tried to coordinate, attacking in waves, but Timothy moved like a machine, his machete an extension of his will.

When they finally surrounded him, ready to strike, he activated Kinetic Pounce.

A green aura surged from his machete, momentarily taking the shape of a spectral panther.

The energy lashed out in a wide arc, carving through the drakes without resistance.

Their bodies split apart, giving Timothy the space he needed to continue his assault.

He dove back into the fray, engaging the creatures at close range.

Their attacks were simple, bite, claw, and tail strikes.

Nothing he couldn’t handle.

Whenever they swarmed him, he reinforced his blade with Armament, enhancing its range, cutting power, and durability.

It was almost too easy.

Within ten minutes, he had slaughtered so many that he lost count.

Yet, despite the carnage, he didn’t level up.

That was until he received a familiar communication from Gray, subtle vibrations signaling the approach of another group.

More than five of them.

Not the hunters

Another wave.

"Let them come," Timothy muttered, eyes burning with determination.

He continued cutting down drakes, their limbs, and heads scattering around him until his perception caught something unusual, a projectile hurtling toward him.

Reacting instinctively, he snatched it out of the air with his left hand, pivoted using its momentum, and flung it back with full force.

Only then did he notice the new set of drakes.

These were different.

Armed with weapons, they stood atop a mountain cliff, emerging from caves like an organized force.

Timothy’s projectile struck its target, though slightly off-mark, hitting the cliffside just behind the creature.

He quickly scanned his surroundings, mangled corpses, pools of blood, and scattered remains.

The battlefield now resembled a butcher’s shop.

Some drakes were still alive, charging at him in a final attempt.

A single swing of his machete, infused with Kinetic Pounce, cleaved them in two.

"There’s always a stronger monster in a dungeon," he muttered coldly.

Without hesitation, he signaled Gray and the recruits to follow.

Then, without waiting, he sprinted toward the cliff.

The moment he moved, the armed drakes unleashed a volley of arrows and spears.

Running straight was impossible, he zigzagged, constantly shifting pace to avoid the incoming projectiles.

His scarf proved its worth, deflecting arrows with ease.

The spears, however, were heavier.

Not wanting to risk damaging the scarf, he used his machete to deflect them instead.

In just over ten seconds, he reached the cliff.

Without slowing, he leaped and drove his machete into the rock wall, using it as an anchor to climb.

His bare hands wouldn’t be enough, he needed something sharp for grip.

This wasn’t a strategy.

It was desperation.

He needed the experience.

Needed the level-up.

As if mocking his efforts, the drakes continued firing projectiles.

He dodged the spears, deflected the arrows, and glanced back, Gray was already scaling the cliff with uncanny ease, carrying the recruits on its back.

Then the real threat revealed itself.

The fodder Cliff Drakes, the ones he had finished slaughtering started climbing after him.

Where did they come from? He didn’t know; they were unending, though, with their climbing speed even more annoying.

"So that’s where the name comes from," Timothy realized.

Estimating his height, he figured he was only about twenty feet up.

Another ten, and he’d reach one of the caves carved into the mountainside.

And with a single trip, he would be quite injured, ultimately dead.

But these creatures weren’t letting up.

They were relentless, swarming him from below, forcing him to slow down.

He kicked, punched, and dodged their lunges, all while evading projectiles from above and holding on to the machete.

Despite his best efforts, some attacks still landed. freёNovelFire-com

Frustrated, he locked eyes with one of the approaching drakes, his fury surging.

His weapon responded.

For a brief moment, an oppressive aura radiated from the blade.

The drakes froze.

[Pheromones Lv. 4 Active]

The system notified but he didn’t understand or care yet.

Gray, who was even more sensitive, stopped in its tracks.

The scarf reacted next, wrapping tightly around Timothy’s waist, its other end securing itself to the dagger.

He ran.

Not up, but sideways, sprinting along the vertical cliff face while leaning towards the wall with the scarf as a safety mechanism.

The closest cave was just within reach, and if his guess was right, the scarf could extend at least ten meters.

For a moment, the drakes lost sight of him.

Then came screams.

One of them plunged from the cave’s entrance, crashing to its death.

Timothy had made it.

Standing at the mouth of the cave, he turned to see the remaining drakes still paralyzed, shivering in fear.

Gray, now recovering, resumed its climb, moving with an inhuman speed that even the cliff drakes couldn’t match.

Timothy’s scarf was tightly wrapped around his waist, one end secured to the machete pinned against the wall.

With a sharp tug, the weapon was pulled free, sailing back into his grasp through the scarf’s momentum.

He turned his cold gaze toward the fodders.

"I’ll be back for you."

Just as he finished speaking, Gray finally reached him.

Without wasting time, Timothy stepped into the mountain’s interior, scanning his surroundings.

Contrary to his expectations, it wasn’t a maze, it was a den.

Unfortunately, bad news came swiftly.

A battle raged at the far end of the den, and Timothy could only assume the other party had already engaged the enemy.

His suspicions were confirmed when another spear came hurtling toward him.

He caught it with his bare hand and turned to face the attacker, another Cliff Drake.

However, unlike the ones before, this one wore crude armor, an indication that it was more advanced.

Timothy’s eyes narrowed as he observed its weapon.

The craftsmanship was rough, yet it was undeniable that this was from a civilization.

’So, they’re intelligent. I’m starting to understand what a dungeon is,’ he thought.

Another spear shot toward him, but this time, he blocked it with his machete before releasing the weapon to catch the spear mid-air.

The machete plummeted toward the ground, until the scarf coiled around it mid-fall, seamlessly securing it once more.

Now armed with two spears and his machete acting as an auxiliary limb, Timothy was ready.

The Cliff Drake emitted a string of guttural sounds, something that felt like an insult.

But Timothy didn’t care.

He turned sharply and, with brute force, hurled the spear at the Cliff Drake that just climbed up behind him.

The weapon pierced straight through its body, sending it flying over the cliff’s edge.

The eerie terrain beneath the mountain’s entrance was made of a strange, larva-like substance.

The moon above cast an unsettling red glow, staining everything in a crimson hue.

The dim light seeped into the cave’s interior, revealing glowing veins of lava running along the walls, some active, others dormant.

The limited illumination created a short-vision effect, making visibility a challenge.

This was no problem, however, for Timothy nor his perception.

He gripped the remaining spear, but he quickly realized that the physics of this environment weren’t favorable for his machete.

He was perched on a ledge, and below him, more advanced Cliff Drakes roamed.

Engaging them might yield greater experience, but he wasn’t keen on running into the other hunters.

The cavernous space was lined with numerous ledges along the walls.

Archers and spear-throwers were stationed there, forming an organized defense against the intruding hunters.

Most of them hadn’t noticed him yet, except for the two Drakes who had already lost their weapons.

They merely stared at him, uncertain of their next move.

Timothy remained still, calculating his next step.

He had come here to experiment, and ideally, he should descend and clear the Drakes below.

However, he doubted he could finish them off before the hunters arrived.

He doubted he would get a thank you.

More importantly, Gray and the other recruits needed biomass and they had already started sapping mana from him again.

The ledges on this side of the wall were spaced about six meters apart, while the gap between his ledge and the opposite one spanned around twenty to twenty-five meters.

The sheer width of the cavern made it feel like a massive underground fortress.

As for the ground below, it was dangerously far about thirty-five meters down, comparable to the height of a watchtower.

These ledges weren’t just for mobility; they were strategically designed to pressure anyone below, making retaliation difficult.

Taking in all this information, Timothy made his decision.

Instead of heading downward, he would clear the upper ledges first.

The Drakes below would serve as an obstacle to slow down the hunters.

He would go for the bigger fish

Gray’s role was simple, consume biomass, maintain distance from the hunters, and relay their positions back to Timothy.

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