Reincarnated with SSS-Rank Trait and Unique Ability-Chapter 26: Four

Everyone lingered for a few moments, staring at the lifeless bodies of the attackers—both now defeated.

Their instructor, Viktor, dropped to one knee, his face pale, his chest rising and falling with effort. His mana reserves were completely depleted.

Selene and Lucian rushed to his side.

"Sir! Sir! Are you okay?" Selene cried, her voice trembling.

"You okay?" Lucian echoed, speaking at the same time, not giving Viktor even a moment to gather his breath.

"I’m fine," Viktor finally muttered under his breath.

He lifted his head slightly, gaze turning toward Ares, who stood a short distance away. Though still upright, it was clear Ares’s core was just as drained. He swayed slightly on his feet, his breathing shallow.

Viktor looked like he was about to say something.

Then his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed fully to the ground.

"Drawback from exhausting all his mana," Ares noted aloud, eyes narrowing slightly. He’d read about this countless times. Mana depletion wasn’t uncommon. But the panic on Selene and Lucian’s faces made it seem like they’d never seen it before.

"Sir!" Selene exclaimed, trying to jolt the instructor awake.

Ares’s calm voice cut through the moment like a knife through cloth.

"Relax. He’s fine. His core just needs to replenish some mana."

As he spoke, Ares walked slowly toward Teon’s body, his eyes fixed on the glowing text hovering above the corpse.

***

[ Requirement met. ]

[ Extract Soul Weapon? ]

[ Yes ] [ No ]

***

"Four Soul Weapons in a single day," Ares thought, staring at the words. "It seems there truly is no limit to how many I can gather."

Without hesitation, he answered, "Yes."

A heavy tug yanked at his abdomen. He gritted his teeth against the surge of pain—his core was nearly dry. One more push, and he’d collapse like the others.

Fortunately, the extraction wasn’t too taxing.

As the energy faded, Ares sank to the ground, lowering himself into a seated position. The weariness in his limbs was impossible to ignore.

He shifted into a meditative pose, exhaled slowly, and narrowed his focus to the steady pull of ambient mana, welcoming it into his depleted core.

No more than an hour passed before their instructor jolted awake.

With a sharp breath, Viktor sprang to his feet, his body tense. His eyes scanned the space, wariness etched into every line of his face, until they landed on his three students seated quietly on the cool cavern floor.

Selene was the first to rise, her face lighting up with relief. Lucian stood shortly after, his expression calmer but equally concerned.

Ares opened his eyes at the sound of movement, the flow of mana around him breaking as his gaze locked with Viktor’s. The instructor’s eyes held a complicated look—part confusion, part awe.

"I’m okay now, thank you," Viktor said, preempting their concern. His voice was low, steadier than expected, though his body still bore signs of strain. He walked toward Ares, who remained seated, legs crossed, breathing steadily.

"Are you okay, Ares?"

Ares nodded, the motion firm and controlled.

Viktor paused for a moment, studying him in silence. Then he spoke again, his voice tinged with something unreadable. "We’ll talk more about what happened... after we leave this dungeon. For now, we should prepare for the challenge ahead."

He then turned, his eyes settling on the massive door carved into the cavern’s jagged wall. Runes were etched across its surface, faintly glowing with dormant magic. The door looked ancient, far older than the rest of the dungeon, as if built for something far more sinister than anything they had faced so far.

Ares rose to his feet, brushing dust from his trousers, but Viktor raised a hand to stop him.

"I should be able to handle the boss mostly on my own," he said, "but I still need a bit more time to recover my mana. You guys have done enough, you will support me from behind."

The group took another hour to rest, meditating, stretching, and quietly discussing the battle that had nearly killed them. The recent attack by the Guild of Assassins still hung heavily in the air, but their focus now shifted to what lay ahead.

Ares caught Viktor looking at him more than once during the break. There was no hostility in the man’s eyes, but rather curiosity—an unspoken question, as if trying to piece something together. Ares didn’t blame him. Very few students his age could’ve done what he did. And even fewer would’ve emerged from the battle stronger.

Ares was now standing at the Third Stage of Intermediate Rank. His presence had a certain weight to it now. Viktor had likely felt it the moment he woke up.

Eventually, the instructor stood up and walked toward the looming doors, his steps full of purpose. That alone was enough; the others stood and followed without a word.

Viktor placed his palm against the cold stone. A pulse of mana flowed from his hand, and the dormant runes sparked to life. A glowing circuit of symbols rippled across the door’s surface, illuminating the cavern in golden-blue light.

With a long, grinding creak, the stone door groaned open.

The chamber beyond was massive, far more expansive than any space they’d seen so far. A vaulted ceiling soared above them, disappearing into shadow. Unlike the jagged walls of the previous caverns, this chamber was smooth, carved by deliberate hands—or claws. The floor was lined with large, dark tiles, some cracked and worn by age. Thick stone columns stretched along the sides, each wrapped in heavy iron rings, from which burned crimson torches that gave off an eerie, flickering light.

At the far end of the room stood a grotesque mound—a hill of bones piled carelessly into a throne of the dead. Skulls, rib cages, snapped femurs—all fused together in a grim sculpture that reeked of blood and decay.

And atop that macabre throne sat a figure.

A giant, hunched creature, humanoid in shape but monstrous in every other way. Its skin was a sickly dark green, stretched tight over bulging muscle. It wore crude armour cobbled together from rusted steel and leather straps, barely enough to cover its grotesque frame. Four large fangs jutted from its bottom jaw, curling up over its lips, and two crimson eyes burned like coals from its sunken face.

Beside it lay a cleaver longer than any of them were tall—its jagged edge stained with blood, its weight alone enough to crush bone.

With a guttural snarl and the crash of bones tumbling from his perch, the creature stood. The ground seemed to tremble under its weight. It grabbed the cleaver in one massive hand, dragging it effortlessly across the floor with a metallic scrape that echoed through the chamber.

Then it let out a deafening roar. ƒreewebɳovel.com

The sound shook the chamber, rattling dust loose from the high ceiling and sending a chill down each of their spines.

The final trial had begun.