Is it wrong to try to meet someone in a dungeon?

Angie also lowered her head and bit her lip tightly.

Bert always shuts out the "weak." Even when seeing his companion off on his final journey, he insisted on his own way, to the point of being tyrannical. It was as if this was all he knew how to do.

Under Raul's persistent questioning, Loki slowly shook his head.

"Because we don't understand it."

And at the end of her sentence, her voice trailed off with a hint of loneliness.

"We talk as if we know everything, but we don't really understand how that child truly feels. Maybe even Bert himself doesn't understand."

"Kuang Dan's philosophy is nothing short of annoying to most people... It's not well-intentioned at all, it's malicious and forceful sales pitch."

As Grace continued speaking, Loki looked up:

"However, one thing is certain..."

She walked to the door, gazing up at the weeping night sky, and murmured as if in a monologue:

"The 'fangs' that Bert possesses aren't fangs at all. They're—..."

The "fangs" etched on my cheeks throbbed with pain.

It heats up little by little, like tears, constantly flowing with the scalding blood of illusion.

"Tsk...!!"

Bert pressed his cheek and quickened his pace to clear his mind of all distractions.

The assassins spotted Bert and yelled in all directions; he slammed them against the wall, getting splattered with their blood. Crimson drops of blood slid down the "fangs" on his cheeks.

"Bert, have you figured out what 'fangs' means?"

Loki said something like that back then.

Bert had already figured out that thing.

Bert had already figured out the true nature of this thing.

Bert's "fangs" are not fangs at all.

Bert's "fangs" are—"scars".

Hidden beneath this lightning-like tattoo—the "fangs"—lies the "scar" that became the beginning of everything.

It was to make him understand the law of the jungle, to break him down, and to leave the initial "scars" etched on his face.

The "fangs" that his father had taught and honed through constant practice had long since broken.

This "scar" is evidence of "weakness".

This "fang" is a facade for "power."

This is an old wound that will never heal, a fusion of weakness and strength. It is proof of the roots deeply etched into the body of a ravenous wolf. It is a blood sacrifice for vowing to devour the strong, only to suffer repeated crushing defeats.

Whenever Bert is forced to learn of his "weakness," he gains "powerful" strength.

When I lose a blood relative, when I lose my sister, when I lose my childhood sweetheart, when I lose her, when I lose my companion.

Bert would cry and howl each time.

They vowed to plunder the flesh and blood of the weak and bite back at the strong.

The "scars" tormented his body, rigorously training him, leaving new wounds with each cut away of the weak. Each time he lost something precious, the "scars" multiplied. The Bert of the past did not realize that he gained power at the cost of bloodshed.

A wolf covered in wounds.

This is the true face of the strong (Bert) who has shed the facade of weakness.

"Kill!"

"...! Ughhhhhhh!!"

Bert deflected the assassin's swinging sword with his gauntlet. As sparks flew, Bert's blow sent the enemy flying. Bert's hands, claws, and fangs were once again stained with blood, which was then washed away by the rain falling from above.

Bert's "fangs" offered no protection whatsoever.

Bert's "scars" only know how to hurt others.

Bert can only become stronger by getting injured.

Bert will likely continue to brandish his deceitful "fangs" and inflict more "scars" in the future.

Because they cannot tolerate the existence of the weak, they can only keep hurting themselves and others.

Bert will likely continue to bark at the weak and try to devour the strong.

Until his massive jaws were torn in two.

"Whatever you do, don't let your fangs and jaw be torn off along with it."

My idol (Vida) was right.

Bert only gets hurt. He only barks.

Bert only alienates others. He only makes strong claims.

—Get out of here, you little rascal!!

Aren't you all annoyed?!

—You guys should yell it out to me too!!

Bert could only wait for the "roar of the weak".

"Loo ...

Bert roared, his chest and throat pounding.

"Bert..."

The howl of the wild wolf, which sounded even somewhat sad, made Ais stop in her tracks.

"Ais, you're strong. That's enough."

Ais now felt she understood the meaning of Bert's words.

It was like he was telling his sister, or his lover, sharing fragments of his innermost thoughts so that he wouldn't lose his partner again.

That was the clumsy wolf's excessively clumsy "wish".

Standing in front of the restricted reconstruction area of ​​Fengyue Street, Ais paused, listening to the still-hearing shouts.

As if all the tears had been cried out, the rain was about to stop.

★

"The entire army was wiped out, is that so... That bastard [Wolf], his 'Curse' injury should still be healing, but I didn't expect him to be so good at fighting."

The stronghold of the dark faction was in an uproar.

Because all the assassins sent out never returned. As if to prove that it had devoured all the attacking prey, the wolf's howls, which had been ringing out incessantly, were now completely silent.

Valetta climbed to the top floor of the Goddess Palace (the Palace of the Goddess of Prostitution), staring at the ruins plunging into darkness, a bold and arrogant smile on her face.

"He's even more impulsive than I thought, this lone wolf. If I stupidly run over there now, I'll be the one getting killed!"

"Lady Valetta! All the assassins we hired are gone... What... what are we going to do now..."

"Idiot~, don't panic. If you'll get ripped off if you enter his territory, just bring him over, okay?"

Valetta spat at the panicked members of the [Sanatos Familia].

Facing the men in robes, Valette gestured with her chin towards the area to be rebuilt.

"I've been provoking him for ages, and [Wolf] definitely wants to kill us with his own hands. As long as I lure him in, he'll have no choice but to come over... That bastard is furious right now, it's the perfect opportunity."

Even after losing a large number of her subordinates, Valetta remained calm.

Her numerous perilous experiences as a member of the dark faction have honed her cunning and made her a LV5 powerhouse, placing her among the top tier in Orario. Her many battles against the Heroes on the battlefield have cemented her status as an undisputed "strong woman."

"Even though there are no more curse sorcerers left, there are still plenty of 'cursed tools' and 'magic swords,' right?"

“Yes, yes…”

Seeing her subordinate nod, Valette smirked.

"I'll send out the invitations; you guys go and decorate the party venue. Instead of a cake, set up lots of traps!"

★

(The attack was interrupted...)

Bert hid in the back alley and drank the superior elixir that Loki had given him.

He wiped his mouth and tossed the test tube aside, his sharp, narrowed amber eyes momentarily lost in thought.

(It can't be that we've run out of ideas, the woman is still there. Since I don't know the enemy's location, maybe I can only yell a couple more times to call her over...)

Perhaps out of pride for surviving in the darkness, the assassins Bert slaughtered were simply afraid and would never reveal a single piece of information about their side. A trivial matter nearly caused Bert's still-burning fiery emotions to erupt, and he decided to take the initiative, starting his move from the shadowy back alley.

The surrounding area consisted of a half-collapsed brothel, abandoned weapons and their fragments, and burnt wood.

Bert ran quickly through the rubble of the back alley, which was indistinguishable from ruins, and was heading towards the tallest brothel building in the vicinity... when he found something on the ground.

"..."

Those are bloodstains.

It looked like he was dragging a corpse haphazardly, leaving behind a serpentine red trail.

The bloodstains drawn on the ground seemed deliberately designed to be discovered, stretching all the way forward. Bert stared at it silently, kicked the ground, and began to follow it.

After turning a few corners, the bloodstains led Bert to a dead-end alley.

"This handwriting..."

Directly beneath the archway formed by a maze of alleyways lies a waste dump.

On the stone wall, blood-red ink marks were drawn:

"Fierce wolf, come down to the palace basement! I invite you!"

It was a universal language smeared in blood. The paint was probably borrowed from the assassin's corpse lying on the wall. The person who left the message had simply grabbed a piece of cloth, stuffed it into the large holes in the body, and scribbled the words on the wall. The pupils, wide open to their limit, had lost their light, and blood was still flowing from the holes in the body; Bert glanced at the pitiful corpse, then stared at the blood-stained writing.

Bert was impressed by the hastily written common language.

This is the same handwriting found in the stone chamber of the man-made labyrinth (Knossos) where Linne and others were brutally murdered.

Bert clenched his fists, making a squeaking sound, and left the scene, leaping onto the rooftop platform of the brothel. He stared intently at the former headquarters of the Ishtar Familia, a massive palace that exuded a powerful presence in the darkness, towering in the distance amidst the crowded buildings.

Suddenly, Bert looked up at the sky.

The rain had completely stopped, and a patch of pale sky peeked through the clouds. The moon remained hidden behind the gray screen.

Bert silently gazed at the sky, then jumped off the rooftop platform and headed towards the "Goddess Palace (Hall of the Goddess Prostitutes)".

Bert, completely unprepared for any attack on the road, arrived at the building.

Upon closer inspection, the "Goddess Palace," though partially destroyed, still possessed a magnificent splendor, reminiscent of a majestic royal palace standing amidst a vast desert. Every pillar was adorned with exquisitely carved lion motifs, every detail a testament to extravagant luxury. Even the cracked exterior, still gleaming with gold, seemed to symbolize both glory and decline. Passing through the enormous circular forecourt, the main entrance bore the emblem of the "Family"—an image of a veiled prostitute, half her body and the stone slabs having collapsed and fallen.

Bert paid no attention to any of this and broke into the house through the front door, which bore huge cracks.

The entrance hall, built of white marble, was ridiculously large, and like the others, it had been vandalized. The ceilings rose high to the upper floors, with open halls featuring atriums leading to numerous passageways; fortunately, Bert didn't get lost. Because the enemy had thoughtfully laid out a red carpet.

It wasn't a carpet, but thick bloodstains.

"Lacks creativity..."

Bert frowned as he followed the trail of blood.

The signs led to a long, wide corridor, past a large, open hidden door, and down a staircase leading underground. The air below was exceptionally cold, and Bert immersed himself in it, running silently downwards.

He walked directly past the assassin's corpse lying at the bottom of the stairs and continued along the corridor, where a vast underground space, almost comparable to the entrance hall on the first floor, unfolded before him.

Thick, long pillars stood like a colonnade, supporting a ceiling over ten meters high, towering overhead, somewhat resembling the underground sewer tanks he and Loki had previously invaded. Around the surrounding pillars, irregularly tied magic stone lamps emitting an eerie purple light were attached.

Looking at this massive underground space... could it be that the goddess (Ishtar) originally intended to raise monsters here?

"—Well done, [Fierce Wolf]!!"

As Bert was looking around, a loud voice, not that of a woman, rang out all around him.

About eighty meters away, right in the center of the underground space, Vadonta flung open his long coat and emerged from the shadows of a pillar.

"You guy..."

"I'm so glad you came alone! Nothing's easier to deal with than a furious beast!"