Level Up The Colony
Chapter 61: Lorelei’s Judgement

Chapter 61: Lorelei’s Judgement

The markings on the wall behind the throne glowed faintly, carved in a jagged script no one in the room recognized.

The letters pulsed in broken syllables, unreadable and unpronounceable.

"I say we take the initiative," said the new arrival, the armored hunter with the camera strapped to his head and a blood-slicked spear in hand.

"Kill first, split the loot later." fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

Before anyone could respond, he darted toward the throne, his spear aimed directly at the motionless bride.

But just as the tip neared her face, less than an inch away he froze mid-strike.

"What? No reaction?" he scoffed.

"Are you all sure this is even the boss?"

He lowered his spear and nudged the lifeless figure with it. "Looks dead enough to me."

Then, turning his back to the bride, he looked over the gathered hunters and smirked.

"No threats in sight. Since no one’s claimed it, I’ll help myself to the treasure."

"You can’t do that," the lady with the intact team interjected sharply.

"And why not?" he said, not even bothering to hide his annoyance.

"Because we got here first."

"Then maybe you should’ve staked your claim behind me," he said smugly.

"Don’t worry, I’m not that greedy."

Someone from her group muttered under their breath

"Dike Chukwuebuka. Ikwerre native. Rich, arrogant, and insufferable."

Dike’s head snapped around.

"Who said that?"

Before he could react, the lady leader stepped in front of him, blocking his view.

"You didn’t think anyone would recognize you, huh? Were you drafted, or did Daddy buy your way in?"

"Watch your mouth," Dike growled.

"Or what? You’ll hit a woman?" she challenged.

"You lost the luxury of that title when you became a hunter," he snapped.

"Draw your blade. I’ll show you how a rich kid fights."

She faltered.

As much as she hated to admit it, Dike was strong, uncomfortably so.

His spear had a reputation from past raids, and those who’d fought alongside him knew better than to take his provocations lightly.

He saw the hesitation in her eyes and grinned.

"That’s the difference between us. You risk your life for paychecks and pride. I risk mine because I enjoy the thrill. I don’t pretend to be noble. I fight because it’s fun. Real freedom fighters have something to lose. You? You’re just another mercenary dressed as a martyr."

Dike turned toward the treasure, striding confidently until his eyes caught a twitching movement nearby.

He paused, frowning.

"What the hell is that?"

Everyone turned to see what he was pointing at Gray, the termite, perched near Timothy.

"Don’t tell me none of you see that. Are you all under some kind of charm spell?"

"It’s a summon," Timothy’s party leader said quickly.

"The boy’s. He’s unconscious, but the summon remains."

Dike raised a skeptical brow.

"Summons don’t stick around when the caster runs out of mana or passes out. Either you’re lying, or that thing’s something else entirely."

He began walking toward Miriam and the others, twirling his spear idly like a predator biding time before the strike.

Everyone knew Dike’s reputation.

Strength aside, he was dangerous for another reason, he didn’t tolerate things he didn’t understand.

There were even rumors he’d let teammates die during raids, not out of malice, but because they were "inconvenient."

Miriam stepped in front of Gray, scooping the struggling termite into her arms.

It tried to wriggle free, wanting to return to Timothy’s side.

"He’s not just a summon," she said firmly, though her voice trembled.

"He’s... different," she said recalling Timothy telling her it was part of his family.

Dike’s gaze narrowed.

"You’re a healer, aren’t you? Not much of a fighter."

His tone was calm, casual even, but there was something cold behind his eyes.

How he had known such information wasn’t hard, she had no weapon with her.

He tilted his spear and lazily flicked it forward slicing a strand of hair from Miriam’s forehead.

"Last warning," he said.

"Hand it over. Or take its place."

Timothy’s leader, watching the situation spiral, gently tapped the unconscious boy beside him.

Desperate.

Hoping Timothy would wake up before something irreversible happened.

It would be better if he used his hand to unsummon the termite

Miriam clenched her jaw.

Her heart pounded.

’You said you’d protect me,’ she thought bitterly, staring at Timothy.

"So for now... I’ll protect you."

She didn’t know when she raised her chin and said,

"No."

A collective breath escaped the room.

Not relief but anticipation.

Everyone knew what was coming next.

Dike moved.

But before his spear could even reach her, something slammed into him Hard.

In the blink of an eye, he was on one knee, struggling to stay upright, his spear the only thing keeping him from collapsing completely.

A sick smile curled across his lips.

"A psychic attack?" he chuckled, wiping the blood from his mouth.

"Impressive."

He reached into his pouch and slipped a ring onto his finger, the metal glinting with faint violet energy.

"Let’s see how long you’re strong you can attack," he said, addressing the termite.

The atmosphere had shifted.

There was a surprise in everyone’s eyes at the realization that the ant-looking creature had abilities.

"This was expensive," he muttered.

"Took it off to see how the sirens affected people... But you’re clearly tougher mentally. Too bad it won’t work with this on."

He stepped forward, a cocky smirk playing at his lips as he approached Miriam who still held Gray tightly in her arms.

The termite had stopped struggling, but Miriam trembled.

Not from fear of Dike but from the weight of the decision she’d already made.

"This time," Dike said, raising his spear,

"I won’t miss."

Miriam shut her eyes tightly.

CLANG!

A sharp metallic ring echoed through the chamber.

Eyes shot open across the room.

Timothy stood between her and Dike, arm raised, T’Challa’s Tooth held firmly in one hand, locking the spear in place.

The two weapons trembled against each other from the force.

Dike’s eyes widened.

Timothy’s eyes opened slowly, not to meet his opponent’s gaze, but to the familiar flicker of system notifications filling his vision.

[You have leveled up.]

[Silverback Termite (Gray) has leveled up.]

[Silverback Termites have leveled up multiple times.]

[Check status for more information.]

...

He wiped a streak of blood and dirt from his face with his free hand, letting the notifications slide away for now.

"Forty minutes..." Timothy muttered.

"I was down for forty damn minutes just to stand back up."

He took a breath, voice steadier now.

"Gray isn’t an ordinary summon. My body was out cold, sure but I heard everything. And now that I’m up, officially, he’s part of this raid, same as me. You don’t believe me? Check my hunter ID. It’s on record."

Timothy’s stare didn’t flinch. Dike held his gaze for a long, tense moment then abruptly disengaged, jumping backward and lowering his spear.

"What’s your name?" Dike asked coolly.

"Timothy. Timothy Walter."

"I’ll check," Dike said simply, turned, and began walking toward the treasure.

The entire room watched in stunned silence.

’Did Dike just... back off?’ everyone thought

Timothy, on the other hand, was more annoyed than relieved.

It wasn’t just that he’d been knocked out, it felt more like the system had locked him down, placing him in forced stasis until he fully regenerated his mana.

His wounds still throbbed.

The minor auto-recovery from the level-up barely sealed his open cuts, but didn’t restore his stamina much.

The paralysis had been a failsafe, a forced recharge.

And it had taken forty minutes to recover just 200 MP.

If that was the cost of a full mana burn... he wasn’t eager to repeat it.

He silently vowed not to increase his Intelligence any further until he found a better way to manage his mana recovery.

The higher the pool, the longer the recharge.

And in a real battle, forty minutes of helplessness could mean death.

Unaware to Timothy, even forty minutes was a miracle, most would have taken hours to recover the same.

Then the system flared again.

The ancient text carved across the stone wall above the bride began to flicker before Timothy’s eyes, as though the system was decoding it.

Letter by letter, word by word, it unraveled itself.

> [What type of man are you?]

Timothy narrowed his gaze.

Another message followed.

[Lorelei’s Judgement] written above the bride’s corpse on the throne in bold red letters

[Choose one treasure.]

His eyes flicked toward the back of the chamber.

Beyond the impaled bride lay a mountain of riches, gold, weapons, artifacts, pearls, armor... a dragon’s hoard of excess, all laid out like wedding gifts.

Even Dike stood there, momentarily frozen not in awe, but struggling to choose.

Suddenly, Dike strode back to the front of the throne, eyes fixed on the impaled bride.

"That spear is something else," he murmured, more to himself than anyone.

Then, turning to the lady with the still-intact team, he added casually,

"I can’t decide what I want. Take whatever you like, I’m not moved by shiny distractions. Things with monetary value don’t thrill me."

Almost on cue, the arrogant kid beside her broke into a sprint, leaping past Dike to get to the treasure piled behind the throne.

Meanwhile, Timothy watched the scene with groggy but growing clarity.

Something wasn’t right.

His eyes locked on the impaled bride.

’Wasn’t she resting her hand on the armrest before...?’

His gaze narrowed.

’Why is she holding the spear now?’

Right before his eyes, her pale fingers tightened around the dark shaft.

Slowly, with agonizing strain, she began to pull the spear from her chest.

Timothy’s eyes widened in horror.

"Hey!! Stop!! Be careful!!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the tension.

But it was already too late.

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