Chapter 16 — The Shovel of Deep Winter

The darkness in the dungeon was so thick, even the flames of the torches couldn’t cut through it completely. The stone walls wept moisture, and the air reeked of old iron… and death long trapped within.

Gaius marched at the front, sword slung across his back, a cocky grin twisting his lips.

“That SSS-ranked monster’s going down in a blink,” he growled without looking back. “Once we bag this thing, we’ll be rolling in loot…”

“Might even throw a party—feast, drinks, and a few lovely ladies.”

His two guildmates followed with less enthusiasm, eyeing the fresh claw marks gouged into the stone.

“Gaius… something’s off. These cuts are fresh,” the support mage muttered.

But their leader didn’t stop. He wasn’t the type to listen to others.

When they finally reached the main chamber—the one that should’ve housed the Emerald Turtle—what they found instead was silence.

No monster.
No blood.
No corpses.
Nothing.

“What the hell…? Someone already killed the turtle?”

He glanced over his shoulder.

His companions were gone.

“Don’t worry,” said a calm, youthful voice echoing through the cavern. “They’re safe… in Solmara.”

“I’m not the kind of monster who’d kill two innocent adventurers.”

“I just sent them away.”

“So they wouldn’t get in the way.”

Gaius spun in place, greatsword drawn and ready.

“Who’s there!? Where are you!?”

“Show yourself, coward!”

“If you’re here for the turtle, you’re late.”

“But hey, you didn’t miss much.”

“It only dropped a unique ring… and five thousand gold.”

“Pretty pathetic, really. Not much of a haul for an epic monster.”

That’s when he saw him.

Ren Sinclair—lounging atop a rock, absently twirling a green ring on his finger.

“Tch. So that drunk Ada Schubert beat me to it again, huh?”

Ren’s gaze sharpened in an instant.

“Take that back.”

“Or what? Gonna throw an onion at me, farm boy?”

Ren didn’t move. But his silence was heavier than steel.

“Oh come on, don’t look at me like that. That woman’s nothing but a lucky drunk. If she were here, I’d say it to her face. And you? You wouldn’t do a damn thing.”

“Quiet,” said Ren. His voice cut like a dry blade.

Gaius barked a laugh and stabbed his sword into the ground.

“Then come shut me up, you insolent brat.”

“Not like anyone’s gonna find out what happens in here anyway.”

Ren smiled—calm, confident.

“Don’t worry. By the time this fight’s over, you’ll be begging for forgiveness… on your knees.”

He reached out, materializing his weapon.

A shovel appeared in his hand—simple and rusted.

Gaius blinked, then scowled.

“The hell is that…? A shovel? Are you screwing with me, kid? Or are you just in a hurry to die?”

Ren simply shrugged, unfazed.

“Sorry, but I don’t have anything weaker,” Ren said, spinning his shovel like it was a sword.

“This is my shovel.”

“The same one I used to clean horse manure… figured it was perfect for someone like you.”

And then he smiled.

“Truth is, you’re not even worth drawing a real weapon for.”

Gaius wasn’t sure whether to laugh or explode in rage.

He chose the latter.

“Die, you arrogant bastard!”

He charged, swinging his massive blade in a vicious downward arc.

CLANG!

The ground trembled as the sword slammed into the stone—but Ren was no longer there.

The so-called "farmer" had dodged with a grace that didn’t match his clothes… or his choice of weapon.

Again and again, Gaius attacked. Heavy swings. Loud. Furious. Relentless.

And yet, Ren was never where he should’ve been.

As if the very air moved to protect him.

“What’s wrong, mutt? Can’t land a hit on a lowly peasant?”

“You little…! I’ll get you soon enough—and when I’m done, I’ll savor every second with your master!”

“A fake A-rank like you wouldn’t last a second against her,” Ren replied calmly.

“You’re wrong! I’m SSS-rank! I’m stronger than your master ever was!”

Ren rested the shovel on his shoulder and let out a quiet chuckle.

“I know your promotion was a lie. You stabbed your party in the back and claimed the kill on the White Serpent.”

“That’s why no one calls you ‘Sir’… isn’t it?”

Gaius clenched his jaw, rage boiling in his veins.

“How the hell do you know that…? There were no witnesses!”

“I know a lot of things,” Ren replied. “Like the fact that you really ought to take a bath sometime. You stink.”

He pinched his nose for dramatic effect.

The floor began to rumble. Gaius’s fury had reached a boiling point. His body started to change—losing all trace of humanity and transforming into a towering beast. A hyena over two meters tall.

“I’m going to rip you apart!!”

“Berserker Mode… unleashed form? Interesting.”

Now a hulking, bipedal hyena with bulging muscles and bloodshot eyes, Gaius charged with primal force.

“Hunter Impact!!”

His sword came down like lightning, obliterating the ground beneath it.

Stone cracked. A crater formed. Dust exploded into the air—right where Ren had stood just a moment ago.

He had dodged it—by mere inches.

“That was strong…”

“But strength means nothing if you can’t hit your target.”

Gaius panted, his eyes wild. Then roared and lunged again.

“You still don’t understand the gap between us, do you, Gaius…”

“SHUT UP! You’re just a farmer! A worthless peasant! A stain I’ll wipe off the floor!”

This time, the greatsword came down with monstrous force.

But with a simple flick of his wrist, Ren deflected it with his shovel.

The sword spun out of Gaius’s hands—crashing into the wall and embedding itself deep in the stone.

“What the hell…?!”

Before he could react, Ren twisted his wrist again.

CRACK!

The shovel slammed into Gaius’s dominant hand with pinpoint precision.

“GAAAHHH!!”

His scream echoed through the chamber—a twisted, broken reflection of all the arrogance he once carried.

“This… this isn’t possible…!! IT’S NOT POSSIBLE!!”

Ren drove his shovel into the ground and stood calmly before Gaius.

“You still can’t see the truth, can you…”

“How the hell can you be this strong!? That shovel—it has to be a magic item!”

“There’s no way an E-rank could overpower me like this!”

“You’re wrong. It’s just an ordinary shovel.”

“Only an idiot uses a sword to hunt a cockroach.”

Gaius’s rage surged again. With a feral snarl, he lunged at Ren like a starving beast, snapping at him with his jaws.

But Ren—his expression unchanged—sidestepped each bite with subtle, precise footwork.

Then, with effortless timing, he grabbed his shovel again—and struck.

CRACK!

The blow landed square on Gaius’s face, shattering several of the hyena’s teeth.

“Ready to surrender yet?”

“I still have some questions for you,” Ren added, composed as ever.

Gaius clutched his snout, groaning from the pain.

“What… what the hell are you…?”

“You’re not… normal,” the hyena growled, blood dribbling from his broken jaw.

Ren tilted his head.

“Me?”

“I’m just a humble farmer.”

He took a step forward.

And for Gaius…

The air plummeted in temperature.

Frost crept across the ground in eerie silence.

Ren’s voice dropped, calm and absolute.

“But to you…”

“…I am deep winter.”