Level Up The Colony
Chapter 64: Exit

Chapter 64: Exit

She didn’t let go.

Her fingers tightened around Timothy’s wrist, and despite the blade resting in her neck, he hesitated.

Pulling the machete free now might just trigger her regenerative ability.

Explosive force might do more damage, but Kinetic Pounce wouldn’t help at such close range.

Before he could think further, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

"Hey, corpse bride!" Dike’s voice rang across the chamber.

Everyone turned, including the bride.

He stood battered and bloodied, his lips split, his head gashed, and blood leaking through parts of his armor.

But despite the damage, he was still on his feet, the spear, her spear gripped tightly in his gloved hand.

His armor gleamed beneath the blood, protecting him in all the right places, but his strength was visibly waning.

Timothy’s senses, still reeling from the fight, confirmed it before, Dike was alive, barely, and the only reason he hadn’t fallen under the bride’s mental scream was likely the same ring that had protected him from Gray’s attack earlier.

The lucky bastard hadn’t taken it off.

The spear, though, was doing something to him.

Timothy could see it; Dike’s gloves were deteriorating rapidly as if the weapon were eating through them.

"You want this?" Dike taunted the bride, lifting the weapon in a mock offering.

Then, with a deep breath, he shifted into stance.

His presence changed, energy coiling around him like a bowstring drawn taut.

"Spear Arts, Third Form..." A spectral image shimmered behind him, sleek, poised, like an arrow mid-flight.

"...Light Throw."

The spear launched like a bolt of silver lightning, streaking across the chamber.

Timothy saw the bride’s head snap toward the projectile and seized his chance.

Focusing, he forced his armament to expand around his wrist, breaking the bride’s crushing grip.

The sudden size shift of the gauntlet made her hand peel away just as he recalled the machete into his inventory.

His vision, clouded until now, cleared, his eyes fading from black back to normal.

She lunged for him again, hands stretched forward like a falling angel desperate to drag him down with her.

But Timothy twisted low, barely avoiding her grasp, and launched a vicious kick to her face.

Using the recoil, he vaulted backward only to find himself tumbling off a slope of treasure behind the throne.

The ground was steeper than he expected.

His ankle twisted with a sharp jolt of pain as he crashed into a pile of gold.

Groaning, he turned, just in time to see the shining tip of a spear burst through the back of the throne right in front of his face.

It halted an inch from his head, pulsing with residual light before dimming.

He limped forward, climbing up behind the throne, and rejoined the group.

Dike was unconscious now, collapsed completely.

Everyone else stood frozen, staring at the throne.

The bride had returned to her original position, pale, draped in silk, impaled through the chest by the same black spear.

But now, one of her hands rested on the weapon’s shaft, gripping it tightly, as if she’d never let go.

It was the arm Timothy had cut off

Timothy muttered under his breath,

"He didn’t even bother taking the arm off..."

As the others regrouped and revived the unconscious, Miriam stirred, blinking slowly awake.

The leader of the other party poured a healing potion into her brother’s mouth, extending his flickering life just a bit longer.

Timothy’s group leader returned with an update.

They’d begun channeling mana into one of the mages’ staffs, preparing for one final blow.

The bride, by all indications, was immune to ordinary magic, but they were betting everything on brute force.

Timothy, however, wasn’t so sure.

He opened his system panel again.

There was no quest completion.

No kill confirmation.

The bride still lived.

And worse, the water level in the chamber was rising.

Slowly, but steadily.

If it kept going, it would fill the entire room.

If the structure collapsed before they found a way out, they’d drown.

"Could we go back?" someone asked.

"Yeah, sure," Timothy answered dryly.

"Just blast open the walls, and hope you stumble into the safe route those other bastards used to get here."

There was no guarantee they’d find it.

And even if they did, how long before the water swallowed that too?

Timothy’s thoughts returned to the woman from the article, the supposed survivor.

What had allowed her to escape?

His system continued to flash:

[Free the Maiden]

[Pick One Item]

Both choices seemed like traps.

But then he remembered the writing on the wall:

[What kind of man are you?]

...

The message wasn’t literal.

It was a prompt.

A riddle.

Timothy’s eyes narrowed.

Maybe it wasn’t about fighting the bride or taking treasure. Maybe it was about intention.

He stood, gently lowering Dike’s unconscious body and whispering to Gray.

"Stay with them," he said, nodding toward Miriam.

Then he stepped forward, limping slightly, and paused midway.

He turned to his team leader.

"Forget the fire spell. Prep any buffs you’ve got. Water resistance, stamina, mental resilience, anything. If this goes sideways, we’ll all be swimming for our lives."

He turned back, breathing deeply, and approached the throne again, this time with intent that had nothing to do with gold or glory.

Only understanding.

"Tim, I really hope you know what you’re doing," Miriam muttered under her breath.

Everyone else was thinking the same even if they didn’t voice it.

They were already knee-deep in death and danger.

What was one more bad decision?

Timothy approached the throne without hesitation.

He climbed the stone steps and stood before the impaled bride.

A monster? A victim? Maybe both.

Her pale form sat perfectly still, the black spear lodged through her chest like a symbol of ancient punishment.

Her name or rather, her title hovered faintly in his vision:

[Lorelei’s Judgment]

More a curse than a name.

He reached out for the spear with his bare hand and then paused.

Without wasting another second, he activated Armament, wrapping his hand in glowing energy. freewёbnoνel.com

The moment he gripped the spear, he felt the drain.

It was like the weapon wanted to siphon the mana straight out of him.

But his Mana Control kicked in, resisting the pull.

Timothy clenched his jaw and pulled.

The crowd tensed.

"Timothy, what are you doing?!" voices rang out behind him.

Just then, the leader of the other team, the lady who hadn’t lifted a finger in any of the earlier fights lunged toward him, weapon drawn.

"I won’t let you get us all killed!"

She never reached him.

The scarf wrapped around Timothy’s left arm shot forward, shifting into a deep shade of blue-black, intercepting her midair.

He simply just used armament on the scarf.

It wrapped around her like a whip, slamming her to the wet ground with a harsh thud.

"Stop him!" she shouted to her team.

They surged forward.

Timothy’s team didn’t move.

"Shouldn’t we intervene?" Okey asked.

"No," their leader replied.

"I trust his judgment."

Felix, the fire mage, nodded.

"We couldn’t stop him even if we wanted to."

Just as the other team members approached, they collapsed face-first onto the ground.

Everyone turned to see Miriam, holding Gray in her arms, the termite’s antennas twitching wildly.

"Thanks, Gray," Timothy muttered as he pressed forward.

He looked into the bride’s shrouded face, her blindfold stained red.

"You asked what kind of man I am?" he whispered.

"I hope you’re watching now."

With a final heave, he pulled the spear.

The bride’s hand, previously detached, snapped upward to rejoin her body and gripped the shaft, refusing to let go.

Her body trembled.

The air thickened.

"Don’t you want to be free?!" Timothy shouted.

With a cry of effort, he yanked the spear from her chest.

Everyone braced for an attack, but it never came.

Instead, the bride looked at him.

A faint smile touched her lips.

A single tear fell from beneath the blindfold.

Then, her body began to dissolve.

Her right hand touched his cheek as she whispered something only he could hear.

Her form broke into shimmering particles of light, vanishing along with the spear.

Only her dress remained, floating gently until it met Timothy’s scarf and disappeared upon contact.

Timothy stood breathless as the throne began to crumble behind him, fading into dust.

In his hand, a ring glowed, its warmth familiar, like something ancient recognizing a worthy bearer.

Then came the hum of a system message.

---

[Quest Completed]

Do you wish to receive rewards?

[You have leveled up]

[You have leveled up]

[You have leveled up]

[You have leveled up]

[Silverback Termite (Gray) has leveled up]

[Silverback Termite (Gray) has leveled up]

[Silverback Termite (Gray) has leveled up]

[Silverback Termite (Gray) has leveled up]

[You have selected an item]

[You have received special rewards]

[Exit the World Shard to claim all rewards]

---

Below the crumbled throne, piles of gold, gemstones, and ancient relics glistened, a treasure beyond imagination.

But the ground rumbled as water began rising rapidly from the floor.

They had to choose: grab what they could, or leave.

Timothy stood still.

Gray uncoiled its antennae, releasing the downed hunters who had attacked earlier.

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