Rise of the F-Rank Hero-Chapter 152: Insubordination

The Fractured Vanguard

The next morning, the Safe Zone felt less like a sanctuary and more like a courtroom waiting for a verdict.

Oliver was the first to rise. He dismantled the tent with a flick of his wrist, storing it away. Amy stood beside him, folding blankets with the domestic energy of a newlywed wife, humming a soft tune. She made a point of ignoring the other side of the room completely.

On the other side, the mood was funeral-somber.

William had managed to heal the worst of the damage with mid-tier potions, but his face was still a mess of yellowing bruises, and his left wrist was wrapped heavily in bandages. He didn’t speak. He moved stiffly, his eyes fixed on the floor, radiating a dark, brooding silence.

Daniel looked exhausted. He tried to rally his team.

"Alright, listen up," Daniel called out, his voice echoing a bit too loudly. "We descend to Floor 31. I know yesterday was... rough. But we have a mission. We are the Heroes. Let’s act like it."

He looked at the Knights.

"Knights, form a vanguard around me and Jason. Mages, center. Oliver... you and your party take the rear guard."

It was a standard formation. It was a sensible command.

But nobody moved.

The Knights stood still, looking at Ser Gerrick. Gerrick was busy sharpening his sword, seemingly deaf to Daniel’s order. He glanced at Oliver.

Oliver adjusted his gloves. "Gerrick, split your men. Two on the flanks. Three with the supply train. The rest with me."

"Yes, sir!" Gerrick barked immediately, and the knights snapped into action, moving to the positions Oliver had indicated.

Daniel stood there, his mouth slightly open. His face flushed a deep, humiliated red.

"Excuse me?" Daniel stepped forward. "I gave an order, Knight! I am the Leader of this expedition!"

Gerrick paused. He looked at Daniel with a flat, unimpressed gaze.

"With all due respect, Sir Hero," Gerrick said, his voice gravelly. "Mr. Oliver’s formation kept us alive on the last three floors. Yours got three of my men turned into wall paste. I’m following the strategy that works."

"You—that’s insubordination!" Jason shouted, stepping up.

"It’s survival," Oliver cut in, walking past them toward the heavy iron doors. "Argue about rank when we’re back on the surface. Right now, try not to die. Isolde, scout ahead."

Isolde smirked, blowing a kiss to the fuming Jason as she vanished into the shadows.

"Shall we?" Oliver offered his arm to Amy.

Amy beamed, linking her arm with his. "Lead the way."

They walked out, leaving the ’Leader’ standing alone in the middle of the room.

****

The stairs spiraled down into a world of blinding light.

Floor 31 wasn’t dark. It was a massive cavern filled with colossal, jagged crystals that jutted out of the ground and ceiling like the teeth of a dragon. The crystals glowed with an internal, pulsating blue light.

It was beautiful. And deadly.

"Mirrors," Isolde’s voice drifted back from the front. "The crystals reflect magic. Do not cast projectiles unless you have a clear line of sight. You’ll shoot yourself in the face."

"Understood," Oliver signaled the group. "Melee focus. Mages, shields only."

They moved through the crystal forest. The reflection of their party multiplied a thousand times in the faceted surfaces. It was disorienting.

Skritch. Skritch.

A sound like glass scratching glass echoed around them.

"Contact," Oliver whispered.

From the reflections, shapes emerged. Not from behind the crystals, but from them.

Crystal Mimics.

They looked like jagged, crystalline spiders, perfectly camouflaged against the environment.

"Left flank!" Oliver shouted.

A spider lunged at Amy.

Before Oliver could move, Amy raised her staff. She didn’t cast a projectile. She slammed the butt of her staff into the ground.

"[Holy Shockwave]!"

A pulse of pure force erupted outward. It didn’t reflect; it shattered.

CRASH.

The spider exploded into diamond dust.

"Nice control," Oliver complimented.

"I’ve been practicing," Amy winked.

But on the other side of the formation, chaos reigned.

A group of five spiders descended on the Hero party.

"Burn them!" Jason yelled, swinging his sword.

"Wait! The reflection!" Lisa screamed.

But William, eager to prove himself—or perhaps just angry—didn’t listen. He thrust his good hand forward. "[Fireball]!"

The ball of fire streak toward a spider. The spider shifted. The fire hit a slanted crystal surface.

Ping. Ping. Ping.

The fireball ricocheted off three different surfaces, gathering speed, and shot straight back toward the group.

"Look out!" Ren tackled Sophia to the ground.

BOOM.

The fireball detonated in the middle of the Hero formation.

"You idiot!" Jason roared, patting out flames on his cape. "You almost killed us!"

"It... it moved!" William stammered, clutching his hand.

While they were arguing, the spiders regrouped, sensing weakness. They swarmed toward the disarrayed Heroes.

"Oh, for crying out loud," Oliver sighed.

He drew his sword.

"[Shadow Step]."

He vanished.

He reappeared in the middle of the chaos, right in front of William.

A spider was mid-lunge, its mandibles inches from William’s face. Oliver didn’t block. He slashed upward in a clean, vertical arc.

Shing.

The spider was bisected perfectly. It collapsed on either side of William.

Oliver didn’t stop. He flowed like water, moving between the Heroes.

Slash. Thrust. Kick.

Three spiders died in three seconds.

Isolde dropped from the ceiling, landing on the last spider, driving her rapier through its carapace.

The threat was neutralized.

Oliver stood amidst the crystal shards, flicking spider ichor off his blade. He turned to William, who was sitting on the ground, shaking.

"I said," Oliver whispered, his voice echoing in the silent cavern, "no projectiles."

He looked at Daniel.

"If you can’t control your men, put them on a leash. Next time, I let the fireball hit."

Daniel gritted his teeth, humiliation burning in his gut. He looked at the knights, who were watching Oliver with blatant admiration. He looked at his own team, battered and incompetent.

He realized, with a sinking dread, that he had already lost the expedition.

"We... we’ll be more careful," Daniel muttered, unable to meet Oliver’s eyes.

"Good," Oliver said. "We keep moving."

As they resumed the march, William stared at Oliver’s back. The fear in his eyes was gone, replaced by something much darker. Something desperate.

His hand drifted to a hidden pouch at his belt—a pouch containing a black, ominous item he had found on a corpse in the previous dungeon but never reported.

’You think you’re so high and mighty,’ William thought, his fingers brushing the cold object. ’Let’s see how you handle something you can’t punch.’

****

The party descended to Floor 32.

The atmosphere shifted again. The beautiful, glowing crystals of the previous floor gave way to jagged, broken shards and a floor covered in a thick, creeping mist.

"The Boss Room is ahead," Oliver announced, checking the mana density. "Floor 32 Guardian."

They stood before a colossal set of double doors carved from black bone. The air leaking from the cracks smelled of sulfur and old blood.

"Formation," Oliver ordered. "Knights, shield wall at the front. Mages, prep buffs. Heroes... try not to hit the ceiling."

Daniel glared but didn’t argue. He signaled his team to ready their weapons.

William stood at the back, his hand clutching the black object in his pouch so tightly his fingernails dug into his palm. It was a jagged, obsidian stone he had looted from a Necromancer’s corpse back on the 10th floor. The description had been vague—"Calls to the Abyss."

’If I use this...’ William thought, his eyes darting feverishly to Oliver’s back. ’The monsters will swarm him. Just him. I can control it. I’m a Hero.’

It was the logic of a madman, born of jealousy and pain.

We can get the initiative."

"Standard pincers," Oliver signaled. "Isolde and I take the left heads. Daniel, Jason, take the right. Mages, focus fire on the central head on my mark. On three."

The group crept forward, boots silent on the stone.

One step. Two steps.

They were getting into position perfectly. Victory seemed assured.

But William, standing near the entrance, felt the stone in his pocket pulsing. It whispered to him. Do it. Do it now.

He looked at Oliver, who was signaling the Knights with confident, leader-like gestures. He looked at Amy, who was watching Oliver with adoration.

The rage blinded him. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

"Die," William whispered.

He pulled the black stone out and threw it.

He didn’t throw it at the Hydra. He threw it directly at Oliver’s feet.

The stone clattered across the floor.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

Everyone froze. Oliver looked down.

The black stone didn’t just sit there. It cracked open.

SCREEECH.

A sound like a thousand dying souls erupted from the stone. Black smoke poured out, violent and thick, instantly filling the room with the stench of rot.

But the smoke didn’t target Oliver.

It swirled outward, expanding explosively, and slammed into the sleeping Hydra.

The Hydra’s eyes snapped open.

They weren’t blue. They were pitch black, bleeding a purple miasma.

"ROAAAAAR!"