FVN Chapter 237: White Bishop....
Chapter 237: White Bishop....
Chapter 237: White Bishop....
In the deeper layers of the White Dungeon, a cave loomed with walls and stalagmites bathed in an eerie white glow.
Though no sunlight touched these depths, the chamber pulsed with a strange, perpetual light, casting long shadows over the figure within.
A white creature, its head slightly pointed and featureless save for two dull, reflective eyes, tilted its head in surprise.
Before it lay a chessboard, an intricate mimicry of the dungeon's layout.
Every section of the board was dotted with small, white markers representing its forces.
But now, entire segments stood disturbingly empty, the markers erased without a trace. "Traces... disappeared..."
It pondered, white eyes narrowing as it processed the sudden loss.
The vanishing presence of its forces puzzled the creature, an anomaly that shouldn't have been possible.
It searched for explanations, its primitive mind churning over this unexpected development.
"Alarmed... unknown presences... threat?"
Despite its limited consciousness, the creature possessed just enough intelligence to grasp its role, its creator's purpose for it, and the meticulous strategy that guided every action.
Every formation was deliberate, designed to ensure nothing could disrupt the dungeon's defenses.
Its plan, so flawlessly set by its creator, should have been foolproof. Yet here it was-faced with a failure that defied its expectations.
It felt the first flickers of hesitation.
Could it be that an unexpected force had entered the dungeon, strong enough to erase its carefully placed pieces?
Its gaze lingered on the blank spaces where pawns had once stood.
This was no ordinary breach.
Something powerful was here, something capable of dismantling its army without leaving a single mark behind.
"Plans... compromised...?"
The creature's voice was a hollow murmur, almost as if questioning the very fabric of its existence.
It struggled to reconcile the idea that perfection—a state it was designed to embody and uphold-could be so easily shattered.
Its creator had fashioned it for a singular purpose: to strive for and enforce flawless order. Yet now, this violation of its plans demanded an adaptation that defied its core programming. "Threat... unknown..."
The creature's mind raced, aware of the necessity to proceed with caution.
Reacting too hastily would only increase the risk of further compromise.
A cold gleam flickered in its white eyes as it contemplated its next move.
It could not fathom how this unknown force had obliterated its pawns so completely, leaving not a trace on the board.
But if its army had been thwarted, it must probe deeper to assess this anomaly-and that required a new tactic.
It steepled its long, pale fingers over the board, focusing intently.
The staff clasped in its third hand began to shimmer with a dim, white light, directing power through the board as it traced a line toward the source of the disruption.
Only three knights can be dispatched.
This was the maximum force it could send without risking a larger breach, as the full might of its forces was held in reserve for critical defenses and offensive power.
If these knights failed... well, then the threat was greater than it could yet comprehend.
But sacrifices, however minimal, were essential if it were to understand and neutralize this unseen adversary.
A Gambit was needed.
"For... her... MAjeSty..."
The words came out in a croak, reverent and hollow, as if spoken through cracked stone. With that invocation, its pale fingers began weaving the last strands of a binding spell, watching as three white-armored knights emerged from the white ground around it. Their weapons gleamed with the same ethereal white, expressions void of any feeling.
They would serve without question, an extension of its will, of the design its creator had so carefully crafted.
As they vanished into the depths of the dungeon, the creature's eyes glowed brighter. '..... Anomaly..... MusT..... Disappear....'
.....
They've seriously come a long way in just a few months.
I closed all the system notifications cluttering my view and studied the three individuals moving steadily ahead.
It seemed my concerns over Lucas's growth were unfounded.
Not only had he progressed at a remarkable rate, but his presence also inspired the others around him.
Janica, for instance, seemed to thrive in his orbit, her own abilities reaching new heights
under the weight of his presence.
I noticed a flicker of unease in his expression, his gaze scanning the stark white surroundings.
"N-no..." Janica replied, her green aura spreading further out as she strained to pick up any
sign of life.
Even Rose shook her head, her golden aura searching in tandem.
I joined them, yet I too felt nothing.
The air was devoid of that usual ominous thrum that accompanied danger, as if the dungeon
itself were holding its breath.
If the White Bishop wasn't sending forces to intercept us, then what was the plan?
Was he setting a trap, or perhaps choosing to ignore us in favor of amassing his forces on
another front?
This silence was a warning, somehow even more ominous than an outright ambush.
I could feel the dread creeping in, each second of silence amplifying the unknown dangers
lying ahead. "Let's keep moving forward and stay close. The second anyone notices something strange, call it out immediately," I said, glancing at each of them. "News about the dungeon should be
spreading like wildfire outside by now. The academy officials will probably mobilize soon
too."
Janica, her body visibly tense, cast a wary look around. "Then... why don't we wait for them? Wouldn't it be better to regroup with the professors and have their support in clearing this
dungeon?" She was visibly anxious-her passive skill, [Intuition], must be warning her of something.
"As tempting as that sounds, we don't know how long they'll take to react," I replied, feeling
the strange charge of the air around us. "This dungeon is on the verge of a full-scale breach. Even if the monsters don't pour out immediately, the rising levels of disruptive mana in the atmosphere are a clear sign that multiple portals will soon start forming, linking this realm with the outside world."
Lucas's eyes narrowed as he pieced it together, his gaze focused and determined. "So, it's up
to us to contain the damage as much as possible and gather any intel we can before it's too
late?"
I gave him a firm nod. "Clearing this dungeon is the goal, but with the way things are playing out, I'd say the odds are barely even. We have a fifty-fifty chance at best, and that's assuming nothing worse comes our way."
It would've been better hearing the clanking noises of metal coming from the army of pawns
than this creepy silence....
Dungeons usually brim with ominous noises-growls, footsteps, or the faint hum of mana.
But this time this feels like we where inside a white horror house...
...
Meanwhile, at a distance far beyond the group, three figures clad in pristine white armor
stood motionless, each of them facing the direction of their target with an eerie, disciplined
stillness.
They were the White Bishop's trusted sentinels for this task.... "Anomalies... found..." murmured the archer knight, a chilling resonance in its voice.
A white sword rested at its hip while a bow hung ready in its left hand, primed to strike.
"Proceed... with caution... elimination... imminent... information... priority..."
Upon hearing this, the two knights beside it-one wielding a halberd and the other a sword
and shield-nodded, their heads moving in mechanical unison.
Each of them began to radiate a faint, almost ghostly light, their forms vanishing into the air
like phantoms dispersing into the mist.
The archer knight, however, remained behind.
Drawing its white bow with unerring precision, it gathered mana at its fingertips, the energy
crystallizing into a dense, glowing arrow.
The sheer intensity of the mana pulsing through the projectile suggested an attack designed
to strike at the very heart of its target.
"By... Her... Majesty's... will..." it intoned, its voice a mechanical prayer as it took careful aim.
In the archer's eye and mind, its target was clear: the weakest link, the one with crimson hair.
Without a sound, the arrow loosed from the bow, slicing through the air with no ripple, no presence-an attack in perfect stealth, crafted from its creator's will to be undetectable. The arrow hurtled toward its target, destined to strike with deadly precision. Soon red blood spilled across the white canvass of their world...