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Allure Vestments (Silver Quality, Special Integrated Set including Chestpiece and Pants), Armor: 187, Agility +36, Attack Speed +15%, Restore 32 Health on Hit, Requires Level 18.
Note: Offers little in the way of protection, but grants the wearer, especially females, infinite charm.
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Flynn displayed the only silver-grade item Rhaess had dropped, studying the stats with an exaggerated look of appreciation before clicking his tongue softly.
"Exquisite, truly exquisite. Mimi, this piece is absolutely tailor-made for you."
"First of all, stop calling me Mimi. Second, absolutely not." She shot him a look that could've peeled paint. "I'm not wearing that."
Let-There-Be-Light chuckled helplessly and reached over to pat Flynn on the shoulder. "Ease up on my sister, man. She's young and a little sensitive about this stuff."
Flynn shrugged, playing it cool.
Not-A-Bystander, completely oblivious to the dangerous atmosphere, casually edged closer and leaned in to inspect the item window. "Hey, did she drop a whip? A whip? That would complete the whole set!"
"Bystander!!"
"Go die!"
The thunderous roar that erupted from both Let-There-Be-Light and his sister finally forced Not-A-Bystander to shut his mouth, although the mischievous grin stubbornly lingering on his face made it clear he wasn't actually remorseful.
Rhaess's loot overall could only be described as average. Aside from the Allure Vestments, she had dropped two green-grade items. One of them was a piece of equipment suited for a Tank, though it was still inferior to what Not-A-Bystander was already wearing. The other was enchanted with Frost magic damage, something that would normally be perfect for a Frost Arcanist. Unfortunately, no such class existed in their current party, so it would have to be treated as studio property and sold later.
Let-There-Be-Light assured Flynn that once it was sold, his share of the gold would be delivered without question.
As for the Allure Vestments, both Flynn and Peerless Blood-Sword technically had the right to roll for them. Berserkers wore Mail Armor, while Finesse Duelists specialized in Leather Armor, meaning the equipment was compatible with either of their classes.
Both of them refused almost immediately.
If word somehow got out that they had actually equipped something like that, the ridicule would never end. The thought alone was enough to make their scalps tingle. Without question, tomorrow's gossip columns in the Age of Conquest forum would feature them in bold headlines.
So, displaying remarkable generosity for the sake of their future reputations, the two men graciously surrendered the exquisitely statted silver-grade item to Amy.
Amy initially refused as well. The item's description alone was enough to make her face burn.
However, Let-There-Be-Light patiently explained, "There's a tailor shop in the city that sells cosmetic robes with no stats at all. You can wear them over your real equipment to hide the appearance. Unless someone deliberately opens your character panel to inspect you, nobody will see what you're actually wearing."
After hearing this, Amy hesitated for a moment before reluctantly accepting. Even then, her cheeks had already turned bright red, as though she had already put the outfit on. She quickly shoved the item into her inventory, as if leaving it on the screen any longer would somehow expose her.
Even though Let-There-Be-Light had warned Flynn to stop teasing Amy, the warning seemed to slide right past him. While he refrained from making any more obvious comments out loud, he immediately sent her a private message instead.
"Come on, why the rush to hide it? Gonna take it home and check yourself out in the mirror?"
Amy rolled her eyes and didn't bother responding.
She had him figured out by now; the guy was a total jerk, and the only way to deal with him was to pretend he didn't exist. Let him run his mouth all he wanted.
Unfortunately, she had underestimated just how persistent Flynn could be.
After a while, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that he was still looking in her direction with that infuriating grin. The sight alone made her blood pressure rise. Unable to endure it any longer, she fired back a furious private message.
"What exactly do you want?!"
"Nothing," Flynn replied shamelessly. "I just think you look beautiful when you're drenched."
Amy was momentarily speechless.
During the fight with Rhaess, she had once again been splashed with a bucket of water, leaving her soaked from head to toe. Even now, droplets still clung stubbornly to her hair and clothes.
She shot Flynn a venomous glare before marching out of the building and stepping directly into the sunlight.
"Dry off, come on, dry off. And while you're at it, let that idiot bake."
While she was silently cursing him, another thought suddenly surfaced in her mind.
During the battle earlier, Flynn had somehow shattered Rhaess's bucket while kiting her around the arena. At the time she had been too focused on the fight to think about it, but now that the adrenaline had faded, the detail seemed increasingly strange.
How exactly had he done that?
Amy couldn't help glancing back at Flynn again. At that moment he appeared to be engaged in a serious discussion with Let-There-Be-Light.
Yet almost immediately after she looked over, a new private message popped up.
"Hey. Don't stare at me secretly like that. I'll get shy."
Amy stomped her foot in frustration.
"Is this jerk made of eyes or something?!"
She had originally planned to ask him how he had destroyed the bucket, but now she had completely lost interest.
After a brief rest, the group passed through the building and continued forward.
Beyond it stood a narrow iron gate that led into the castle. Before Rhaess died, the gate had been firmly sealed shut, but once she fell it had silently swung open on its own.
The passage beyond was pitch black.
Not-A-Bystander stepped forward first, protected by a glowing Luminous Shield. After confirming there were no immediate threats inside, he waved the others in.
This area served as a back entrance to a side hall, essentially a buffer zone before entering the castle proper. Beyond the side hall lay the main hall of the castle, where undead figures wandered freely.
The scene inside was bizarre.
The undead were dressed in chaotic yet colorful clothing, as though they had been attending some kind of extravagant masquerade ball before death claimed them. Along both sides of the hall stood heavily armored guards, silent and motionless like statues.
Flynn's gaze swept across the hall, quickly landing on the second-floor balcony.
"Hey, isn't that Prince Markel up there?" he said quietly. "And the third Boss you mentioned earlier, the Sword Master… what was his name again?"
In Normal and Heroic modes, the Sword Master was usually visible somewhere in the hall. But in Hell mode, the figure was nowhere to be seen.
"Gaimer, the Sword Master," Let-There-Be-Light replied as he scanned the crowd of monsters. "He's supposed to be somewhere on the first floor."
He frowned slightly.
"Did we take a wrong path? Or did his position change in Hell mode?"
According to the official lore released by the developers, each dungeon came with a brief background story that included the Boss names, their history, and their approximate locations. However, the information never included detailed mechanics or exact positioning.
Not-A-Bystander rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "From what I've heard, Gaimer used to be Prince Markel's personal attendant, something like a bodyguard. Maybe he's standing near the Prince?"
"He's not up there," Flynn said after another quick glance toward the balcony. The two armored figures beside the Prince had very ordinary names.
Let-There-Be-Light checked the time before waving his hand dismissively. "Forget it. We'll deal with what's in front of us first. Bystander, get ready."
"Ready when you are. I'm going in," Not-A-Bystander replied lazily.
After clearing two Bosses in a row, his confidence had grown considerably.
He hurled his Avenger's Shield into a group of dancing specters, the spinning shield striking several of them before ricocheting back. The moment the monsters turned toward him, he immediately retreated into the side hall and ducked behind a wall.
This was a common Tank tactic. Once the monsters lost direct line of sight, even ranged attackers were forced to chase after him in order to attack, allowing the Tank to gather them into a safer and more controlled position.
Seven or eight specters rushed into the hallway.
They were merely dancers, ordinary monsters. Although their health and attack power were slightly higher than other creatures of the same level, they were still far from elite enemies. Not-A-Bystander could handle them comfortably.
There were eight waves of these trash mobs.
After the last specter collapsed, Amy stepped forward and began pulling the armored guards stationed along the walls.
These guards always appeared in pairs. Each one wore heavy plate armor and wielded an enormous greatsword.
When the two guards charged forward together, their massive blades swinging through the air with terrifying momentum, even Not-A-Bystander felt a chill run down his spine.
"I swear, if one of those greatswords hits my shield head-on, it'll send me flying," he muttered.
Moments later, one of the blades slammed into his shield with tremendous force.
Not-A-Bystander was knocked back several steps, and a large chunk of his health disappeared instantly.
At the same time, Flynn and the others discovered that their attacks barely made a dent in the guards' defenses.
"High attack, absurd physical defense, but their health pool isn't that large," Let-There-Be-Light analyzed with a helpless sigh. "These guys are troublesome."
He glanced at the party composition and grimaced.
"We don't have an Arcanist, so we'll have to brute-force it."
"Why didn't you bring one?" Flynn asked curiously.
Over the past few days, he had picked up a decent understanding of how dungeon parties were normally structured. A Tank and a Healer were essential, but beyond that it was common to include at least one ranged damage dealer and one melee damage dealer. Ideally the party would also balance physical and magical damage in order to deal with monsters that resisted one type or the other.
Yet Let-There-Be-Light's group had no magical damage dealers at all. All three DPS classes dealt purely physical damage.
At Flynn's question, Let-There-Be-Light's face immediately darkened.
Let-There-Be-Light's face fell the second Flynn asked. He let out a long sigh. "Because our two Arcanists are idiots, that's why. "All they care about is PvP. Right now they're both being hunted down, and their levels dropped below 15. You expect them to run a dungeon with us? That's pure fantasy."
Not-A-Bystander gave a bitter smile.
It really wasn't Let-There-Be-Light's fault. Those two players were quite skilled and would have been excellent candidates for a first clear. Unfortunately, they were hopelessly addicted to PvP combat.
One reckless fight led to another. Both of them died in a chaotic brawl, and from there the situation spiraled out of control. They completely ignored Let-There-Be-Light's earlier warnings, and before long one had been killed all the way down to level 13 while the other fell to level 14.
At that point, they were completely unreliable.
While the conversation continued, the group steadily cut down the greatsword-wielding guards.
Soon, after all eight pairs had been eliminated and the final of the sixteen armored guards crashed to the floor, a deep, booming voice suddenly echoed through the hall.
"Who dares interrupt my interrogation?!"
As the voice faded, a hidden door in one corner of the hall creaked open.
A tall man stepped out slowly.
His sharp gaze swept across Flynn and the others before he spoke again, his voice filled with cold arrogance.
"A group of intruders. Did you defeat my subordinates?"
He let out a disdainful chuckle.
"Then you are worthy of challenging me. Of course, I will twist your necks off afterward."
Everyone's eyes immediately moved to the name floating above the man's head.
[Gaimer, the Sword Master.]
Amy blinked in surprise and murmured softly, "So in Hell mode, this Boss only appears after all the trash mobs are cleared."
Not-A-Bystander chuckled mischievously. "I wonder what would happen if we ignored him and just ran upstairs to kill the Prince instead."
"Who knows," Let-There-Be-Light replied seriously. "But I strongly advise against trying it. One wipe would waste a lot of time."
Flynn, however, remained silent.
The dungeon run had progressed normally so far, yet the quest he had received from Mia, the Rogue trainer, still showed no signs of progress.
But Gaimer's unusual appearance in Hell mode, combined with the first words he had spoken when he appeared, stirred a faint suspicion in Flynn's mind.
'Who dares interrupt my interrogation?'
The phrase echoed in his thoughts. Perhaps the hidden clue to Mia's quest was connected to this Sword Master.