Supreme Swordfiend

A swirling blue vortex stood atop a rotting hill within the woods, the towering redwoods surrounding the hill began wilting the closer they were to the dungeon's entrance. This alone was cause for alarm. The decaying grass and and dry earth tipped it over the edge, from weird to creepy. The closer Leon drew to the tear in reality the more decay he witnessed, as though the dungeon was leeching the life of the woods to fuel its own twisted existence.

He reminded himself this scene was entirely artificial, designed to crudely mimic reality though unconcerned with providing a sense of verisimilitude. The Tutorial hadn't been running long enough for such exaggerated decay to take hold of the woods, even with magical assistance speeding up the natural processes. He'd taken a scenic route to arrive here, crossing the river behind his cottage and travelling through the woods until he reached the hill.

Leon had made sure to re-stock his food supplies before he'd left- just in case. Every injury in the Trial had the potential to compound the difficulty he'd face, each disadvantage building until they snowballed, causing a catastrophic failure. Leon wouldn't let that happen.

Other than a final provisions check Leon had also received his ranking update when he'd awoken, having fallen asleep before the blue box could pop up. There hadn't been any changes, maybe a couple of Mike's guys had swapped places, he couldn't really remember the order they'd been in last time. Leon was still at the top. That was all he cared about.

Well, that and the loot that came alongside being number one. Unfortunately, he'd received none- Zerasos had claimed this was a concession he'd been forced to make on Leon's behalf to secure a Tutorial entry permit for Leon's smithing tutor. So long as the devil was telling the truth it was a price Leon could stomach paying, the potential gains from a Job that let him forge his own gear were too enticing compared to some petty loot.

Focusing on the present, Leon completed his final gear check. His gauntlets bore a few scars from poorly timed Heaven Skewers, slicing teeth marks engraved into the hard leather gloves. He was lucky none had managed to cut his hand off, the closest call only manging to tear a hole in his arm that was swiftly healed. His cuirass still only protected his front, his back left exposed.

Other than these major defects, all his leather armour had been subjected to various degrees of wear and tear, the elements beginning to wear down the connective joints in some areas. Leon didn't possess the knowledge to properly care for his armour, doing his best to keep it clean was all he could confidently do.

Despite this, armour durability wasn't a major a concern yet, Leon had faith the armour would hold for this dungeon at least.

Bladeless and Wavecutter were still in good condition, the Self-Repair enchantments handling the requisite maintenance work on the blades. Bladeless did have a few more scrapes and scratches than Leon remembered it having had a few days prior. Nothing that would impact the blade's performance, worthy of an inspection just to make sure.

"Bladeless- A foolish smith forged this weapon as a joke, never expecting it would be used in serious combat. Despite its creator's intentions, it has found a suitable wielder at long last, the blade having grown mightier while serving a novice swordsman. Aside from its Self-Repair enchantment, the blade's recent growth will allow a particularly skilled smith to imbue another enchantment upon it. Further growth will be nearly impossible to achieve; this blade has reached the limit of mundane materials.

Restrictions- 30 Power."

The stupidly large chunk of iron had somehow grown stronger- a strange phenomenon. The description had changed too, making an overt reference to him. Perhaps it was siphoning a portion of the mana from his kills to fuel its growth? Something to ask either Zerasos or his inbound tutor once he was done here, as long as his weapon was better it wasn't anything to worry about.

Before entering Leon remembered to inspect the dungeon revealing its name.

"Trial 1- Thousand Man Slayer- Level ?"

Not exactly a confidence booster. He could always leave, turn around, hunt down Mike and get a greatsword, blow off Zerasos' plans. That wasn't in Leon's nature though. He didn't back down from a challenge, especially not one this juicy. He could tell this dungeon would push him harder than anything else had so far.

Stepping through the portal re-affirmed Leon's hatred for fast travel- having his vision expand in a sphere around him then snap back into his eyeballs was horrible and he hated dealing with it.

He'd arrived in the dungeon, standing in the centre of a small wooden bridge, the river below visible through the planks that comprised the bridge. No guard rails had been installed, though Leon doubted they were necessary- the river was a shallow one, shin high and placid, flowing just beneath the bridge. A fall in would get him wet, potentially bruised if he hit one of the rocks scattered along the riverbed but Leon doubted a tumble would cause any lasting damage to him.

The bridge was wide, wide enough for two or three men to cross side by side comfortably and roughly 50 metres long. Wide enough to fight on, not comfortably but it would do. It was as Leon cast his gaze towards the end of the bridge he saw the army massed there.

Their war banners were raised high enough to obscure the sky, the image of a burning sun emblazoned upon them, each armoured soldier opposing him clad in blazing red cloaks, faces set in cold resignation. Their style of dress and armour was vaguely similar to the early Roman Empire, the soldiers the same style of armour he'd seen in the arena dungeon.

Massive siege engines lay behind the legions of men, trebuchets and catapults, some fully assembled, others in the process of being built. Leon was sure if he counted the number of soldiers present they would total to one thousand.

To his back he saw a large castle in the distance, flying no visible flag and too far away to identify any distinguishing characteristics. Presumably, his role in the scenario was to defend the castle.

His thoughts were cut off by a bellow, an authoritative bellow cutting across the landscape, his head spinning back round to face the opposing army, each soldier snapping to attention as their crimson armoured commander rode out to the front of the massed army atop a white horse- Leon was beginning to think the Proving Grounds was having fun using authority figures to cut off his ruminations. At least this time it sounded like it was a woman doing the shouting, the man in the arena had been far too dismissive of him.

"The Blazing Sun Clan honours the ancient rites! Ku Kulin, of the Burning Light Kingdom, has invoked the rites of single combat, forcing us to ford this river by way of battle. We all shall meet him in single combat, one on one. Remember men, he is but one man- he will break long before we do!"

Leon answered with his own bellow.

"Can we skip this useless lore dump? I really don't give a fuck, hurry up and send your little lambs to the slaughter!"

The commander appeared incensed at the reply though Leon couldn't tell for sure, her ostentatious helmet obscuring her face. She drew herself up in her saddle before answering.

"You will not live to regret your words, cur. Recruit Ramos, get in there!"

The man who stumbled up the bridge to face Leon was pathetic.

Clad in little more than his cloak and a cast iron pot for a helmet, the poor soldier's hands were shaking as he rushed towards Leon, a wooden club serving as his weapon.

He was hesitant, his steps unsure. Leon's sword arm suffered no such weakness.

Bladeless struck centre mass, splitting the poor man in two, the bladed tip of the colossal sword faced no resistance. The poor recruit didn't stand a chance without any protection, dying on impact, his top half flopping onto the bridge while his bottom half was pushed back.

Ramos didn't die immediately.

"Please, no. I don't wanna die! Spare me!"

Leon felt a modicum of pity for this dungeon construct. No doubt if it had been a real flesh and blood human he would have hesitated far more before continuing. This was just the first of a thousand, an appetiser. He could get all emotional and existential once the job was done. He buried his pity and moved on.

"Not an option, sorry."

Another thrust of Bladeless split the boy's skull with the same ease it had split his torso, the iron pot doing little to preserve the boy's life. Brain and blood began schlorping out of the destroyed skull, onto the wooden planks, dripping into the water below. No experience, no kill notification. Leon didn't know if they'd seen him kill the recruit yet, opting to get their attention and keep them in the loop.

"Next! Send a better guy this time!"

They did not send a better guy. Not even ten guys later had the quality of guys improved in any noticeable way. They were all still the same quivering messes, with pot helmets and wooden clubs. Leon's pity turned to frustration, then back to a more logical state. Getting mad was just playing into the dungeon's plans- he needed to maintain efficiency, conserve his strength for the battles to come, not give in to his emotions and waste more stamina than was necessary on these grunts.

It was meaningless slaughter, they gave no experience and couldn't challenge him in any way. Bladeless simply split them in two. Between challengers Leon had to kick the corpses into the river. That helped incentivise clean kills and efficient killing- if the wood got too slick with blood he'd lose his footing eventually.

Heaven Skewer saw more use once he'd realised that blood could become a problem, the skyward thrusting technique killing the poor soldiers on impact, then punting their corpses off the bridge due to the force behind the move. While the move lost some effectiveness due to the small size of his targets, Leon was still pleased his move retained some value against humanoid opponents. The Giant Slayer Style wouldn't be gaining any additional techniques today though- incorporating moves designed for smaller foes would weaken the style's identity, which Leon could tell was an important quality to preserve.

Leon had thought he'd be more conflicted over murder. Surprisingly he was pretty okay with it. It really wasn't much different to killing a charging carnotaurus. Humans were just another animal at the end of the day and Leon was getting good at killing animals. Maybe all that was the adrenaline talking though, he'd find out once this Trial was done and he'd had time to process his emotions.

Finally, guy number twenty changed up the formula. This one had a breastplate, a proper helmet and a sword. A short one, similar to the arming sword Leon had used before acquiring Bladeless. This was it, the turning point, the start of the ramp up!

Still dead in a single thrust. Bladeless did meet some resistance against the metal breastplate, so Leon switched up his target area. Instead he aimed for the waist, cutting the men apart at the belt.

Another ten down. They still hesitated too much, they may have wielded swords but they were no swordsmen.

"Come on up here, number thirty- give it up for number thirty! Maybe he'll actually fight back for once!"

Number thirty was equipped with the standard red cloak, an iron breastplate, an iron helmet and a short sword- this one was more like a gladius than an arming sword. He also had a waist guard, a thick iron skirt that covered the waist and upper leg, though Leon wasn't an expert on armour and couldn't recall the name given to that particular armour piece.

The dungeon was adapting to his methods, defending points Leon targeted.

Shifting targets again, Leon aimed for the man's lower legs, only for number thirty to dodge to the side, close the gap and bury his gladius into Leon's shoulder, gripping on to the swordsman to prevent him from swinging his blade again. He'd aimed for his enemy's throat but Leon had jerked back at the last second, dodging the fatal blow.

Rather than the expected scream of pain, number thirty saw the enemy swordsman grimace, then grin.

"Should've went for centre mass, idiot."

Headbutting the soldier, Leon's copper helmet clashed against the soldier's iron leaving both men's heads ringing. Leon's superior Constitution helped him recover quicker than his adversary, pulling the gladius from his shoulder he plunged it through the soldier's eye. Hot blood gushed out, Leon's hands growing sticky with the stuff as he plunged the gladius into the man's deformed eye socket, ensuring he was dead before throwing the limp corpse into the river, gladius still embedded in the soldier's face.

Channelling his energy to heal his open wound, Leon called out for another challenger.

"Next! Give me more like that last guy!"