[E.M.Supreme] Chapter 11 – Second Floor Entrance

Mark followed in their footsteps as he hurried away from the narrowed eyed Pilous. 

He felt the same feeling as when he first entered the dungeon when he went through the ink like fog before he was thrown out into the second floor.

The system pinged him with a notification of his successful arrival. 

Welcome to the Tower of the Undead Ancients - Floor 2!

Smith and Commander Malor were standing at the edges of the cliff and looking down at the main floor. Both of them were in deep silent discussions, though Mark could see their confused expressions. Something was off to them and he knew exactly what it was. 

They think it's a dragon in the dungeon. As of now, they don’t suspect me, but sooner or later they will. 

Mark knew that this tenuous balance would come to an end and then he would have to make a decision that he had hoped to not encounter for some time. 

Killing another human being was a task that felt sacrilegious to him. While they may end up attacking him, they haven’t hurt him or anyone he loved. They hadn’t targeted his parents or siblings or friends. If anything, the Royal Knights were to thank for the stability throughout the past two centuries that they’ve built their lives around. 

There were times of chaos and havoc, but those were far in between and few in number. Of which none of them had spread outside of their localized origins. 

It also felt like a horrible rule of thumb to kill anyone that posed a threat to him and his family before they committed anything. 

Mark would end up burning half the world simply because he was a Golden Classer. Ending up just like the rumors and myths. The long tales of legendary Knights killing genocidal monsters that unlocked classes beyond their station. Insane Golden Classers that killed millions put down like dogs. 

That was not the future he wanted. 

Pilous stepped in after him, then Kieth, and finally Rob. They joined the first two and started conversing in hushed tones without saying anything to him at all.

Mark, on the other hand, made his way to the very edge of the cliff and sat with his feet dangling. 

This floor was rougher, with large boulders that blocked the view of anyone on the ground floor, jutting earth, and a bunch of obstacles that were filled with undead. Though he could see more than just the basic skeletons in newer armor that he saw on the first floor. 

Zombies and corpses laid about, though almost none of them had any armor. Just rags. 

Some skeletons that were larger than the rest and seemed to be the focal point of the piles of undead. As though the soldiers had fallen in place around them. 

It… kind of looks beautiful in a morbid way. Like a tornado swirler.

The place had a magic feel to it that made him feel serene and peaceful. Yet, he knew that feeling would not have existed had he any fear at all of the monsters below him being capable of killing him. Fear and terror would have filled his limbs instead of this strange tranquility. 

Mark learned something he had never expected to. A lesson that had been invisible to him and everyone around him it felt like. 

Without power to uphold the peace, then they had nothing but the grace of the strong to keep the stability they searched for. It wasn’t the wealth that brought them this, not the numbers of their clans and families, not the levels and classes. Power in of itself seemed to be the mother of the greatest forms of mercy and peace.

The exact opposite of what he saw it as not even a few moments ago. Having a Golden Class felt like a curse.

And it was if he was ever found out, but for a moment, as brief as this was, he felt peace and serenity. One bought by the fact that he could wash this floor with mana and kill all the monsters. 

Of course, that relied on the Royal Knights behind him not fighting against him. 

Mark had no clue if he could defeat all five of them at the same time, especially with the amount of experience each one had.

He suspected that even Keith and Rob, as new as they seemed, had better battle senses then he did.

Smith walked up to him. “Not afraid?”

Mark didn’t look up as he shook his head.

“Yeah. Once you see something of greater magnitude, smaller things seem almost inconsequential. The worries of the masses. Finding a job. Building a family, children, socializing. What’s the point after you’ve seen horrors unlike anything they would ever experience. How could any of them relate?”

How could anyone relate…? No one can. What the hell does it even mean to be a Golden Classer? Was it fate…?

Mark shook his head to eliminate the intrusive thoughts that tried to invade his mind space. It was over. He was a Golden Classer whether he wanted to be one or not. 

There was no point in questioning destiny and his abysmal luck.

Either he learned to deal with it or the Royal Knights would eventually execute him. Maybe not the five behind him, but one of the many legends would be powerful enough. Just like they eliminated the last hundred Golden Classers. 

“You have much to digest,” Smith said as he turned around. “I’ll leave you to your thoughts.”

Mark looked back to see Smith join the rest of the Knights in whatever discussions they were having. It seemed like an argument had broken out. 

Yet, what was more apparent was the confusion in their expressions. Especially Commander Malor.

Pilous met his gaze, eyes narrowing and mouth forming a straight line.

Mark snapped his head back toward the dungeon floor, though he could not see them as his mind was busy elsewhere. Mostly with Pilous figuring him out and how he expected to defend himself. There was a need to start working on the orb of pure energy and mana in his [Spatial Mana Pool] and prepare himself for a war.

He pulled it up and concentrated on the mana within. 

The 250,000% increase in [Mana Manipulation] helped him work with the violent energies and prevent it from snapping at his commands and breaking free to the outside world. Yet, it wasn’t good for much else. It only showed how much power and levels in his skill just to do the same outside of the [Spatial Mana Pool]. He doubted they could even get that high if he was being honest with himself. 

Mark took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and focused on breaking it down. 

The orb rumbled in the void, where only he could feel or hear it. Shaking violently as he struggled to split it in half. He could feel sweat dripping from his forehead and onto his lap and the tremble of his hands.

It felt like it took hours before the orb split in a flash of white that blinded Mark for a few seconds. Black spots appearing and disappearing.

Yet, when he regained control of himself, he found two smaller orbs floating lazily in his [Spatial Mana Pool]. Just waiting for his commands and orders to act. 

He could feel the vast difference between them and the single orb instinctively. There had been some loss of power during the transition and splitting of the original one. The process had cost something from itself. He wondered how much would that cost turn out to be once he divided these two into a thousand pieces, so small that they could be used all around without destroying the world around him. 

Mark perked up and opened his eyes as the group of Knights approached closer and still in deep discussion, though this time, only the Commander was speaking. 

They had gotten over whatever it was they had been figuring out a few minutes before. 

“–don’t forget to use very little mana. Only physical endurance and light wave regulation attacks if necessary. And Kieth, if I see you activating a barrier for any of the explosive zombie, I’ll tear you a new–”

“Yes, Sir!” Keith shouted. 

“Good. Lets get this shit over with so we can figure out what the hell is going on. Make sure to record everything as planned Smith,” Commander Malor stepped beside Mark and stared down at the mass of dungeon monsters just waiting to be demolished by them. “Boy. Don’t get in our way. It may not seem like it, but those are powerful monsters that would cause havoc if released to the countryside. We might make it look easy, but please don’t be fooled. Very few people could ever make a level 77 skeleton warrior look pedestrian as we do.”

Mark’s eyes couldn't help but sparkle. 

This was the legend, the story heroes, the long tales that any kid had dreamed of before coming to the realization that it was never a possibility.