Published at 9th of February 2026 3:16 am

Chapter 640: Helmet Down, Mask On.

This chapter is updated by JustRead.pl

‘Did I underestimate these adventurers? Usually, they would just leave me alone at this point.’

Roland wondered if he should simply stand up and leave. He was wearing his usual dark robe with heavy armor hidden beneath it, something that normally kept others at a distance. A high-quality suit like that usually implied power and danger, yet the two people with him did not seem to care. One of them, the smaller of the pair, was even intrigued by the craftsmanship and the subdued magic Roland was concealing, at least to some extent, with his concealment skill.

“How much do you want for it?”

“It is not for sale.”

“Nonsense. Everything is for sale. I will give you this much.”

The gnome mage held out both hands, but Roland was not sure what to make of the gesture. If the gnome was offering ten gold coins for his new suit of armor, then he was clearly trying to cheat him.

“Boring. Why not have a drink with us instead, handsome?”

That was the woman. She was suspiciously clingy and overly friendly. Even though she could not see his face, hidden as it was beneath a hood and robe, she had somehow decided from his voice alone that he was good-looking.

“Why not take off that helmet, sugar? I am sure there is a handsome fellow underneath. It is a long trip into the dungeon, so why don’t we get acquainted?”

She pressed shoulder to shoulder with the new party member, who clearly did not appreciate the closeness. He tried to shift away, only to find the other person blocking him from the other side.

“I can feel magic emanating from this equipment. Could you tell me which master craftsman fashioned it for you, my friend?”

The gnome wearing his own enchanted robe started talking. His eyes sparkled as he leaned closer, trying to get a better look at the gauntlets the newcomer wore. It was as if he was calculating the worth and how much his next offer should be.

“…”

Roland’s frown was hidden behind his helmet as the two continued to crowd him. He was not sure what this was about. Were they genuinely curious, or were they trying to probe him? He had come here with one primary goal: to escort the blacksmith safely back to his family. Still, he also wanted to observe how the superdungeon operated and how the Adventurers Guild functioned in the largest city on the volcanic island.

“Come on, don’t be shy, sugar. Just relax.”

Roland leaned away as best he could, careful not to make a scene. He understood that making enemies among the people he would soon be entering a dungeon with was a bad idea. Even if he considered himself strong, he could not be certain he could handle an entire group of tier three class holders if they decided to attack him all at once.

‘Should I just test it out now?’

He was not entirely unprepared for this journey. At first, he had planned to do things as he had in the old days and remain hidden from sight. However, there could come a moment when he would need to reveal his face. Eventually, he would have to eat in public or show proper respect to the leader of the third-layer guild outpost. With that in mind, he considered how to solve the problem and arrived at an answer: a custom-made face mask, a type of magic item that existed in this world.

These masks came in many shapes and sizes and were primarily used by the thieves' guild to conceal their identities. At first glance, they appeared to be simple flaps of skin with little detail, but with proper adjustments, magic, and alchemy, they could become skin-tight layers indistinguishable from the real thing. Some of the higher-tier versions could even mimic muscle structure and felt surprisingly natural to the touch. One of those masks now covered his face.

Roland let out a slow breath and reached up. His metal-covered fingers found the edge of the hood first, pushing it back just enough to expose his new Rune Abyssal Drake Helmet. It had a clear dragon motif and looked as if it was fashioned from a dragon’s skull but was fully made of a black alloy. RÃＮồꞖĚṣ

“Ah!”

The gnome’s eyes widened even further as he took in the craftsmanship of the drake helmet and the complete absence of any view of Roland’s eyes behind it. There was no visor. Instead, draconic eyes were fully covered by a special glass Roland had acquired during his last visit to Isgard. The glass could shift colors, allowing him to see out while preventing anyone from looking in, and it was also highly resistant to damage.

Removing the helmet required a few steps. First, he had to shift it in several precise ways. Then he needed to turn off a spell that magnetized it to the silvergrace suit beneath. The suit also had a hooded portion that covered his ears and bore various runes, which he concealed at the moment with his skill.

It took a moment, but he finally lifted the helmet free as the two adventurers watched. To make matters worse, others nearby began to peek as well, and soon his face was fully revealed. A face looked back at them, one marked by long experience. It was weathered and lined with scars, the face of someone who had been through hell and back.

His hair was also not his own, made longer to fit the character of a warrior who didn’t care much about his looks. It was silver-gray and tied loosely behind his head. His eyes were the most striking part. Not because they were beautiful, but because they were empty in a way seasoned adventurers recognized instantly. They were the eyes of someone who had survived too much to be impressed by threats or flattery.

The barbarian woman froze mid-grin.

“Oh… now that’s a face of a true adventurer!”

Roland had hoped that when she saw his rather unpleasant facial expression, she would back away, but instead, it was as if she was intrigued by it. The other adventurers, who had been watching from afar, fell silent and quieted down. The face mask seemed to conceal him well, and no one seemed to notice anything out of order. After a brief pause, the others returned to their meal and drinks, leaving Roland alone once again with the two who didn't seem too frightened by his veteran appearance.

“You seem like a gentleman with experience, friend.”

The gnome’s tone shifted. Gone was the greedy excitement, replaced by something closer to respect. He straightened in his seat and placed his mug down carefully, as if acknowledging an unspoken boundary he had nearly crossed.

“Harphon”

He said while generating a small lightning spark between his fingers.

“Great mage extraordinaire, I’ll be supporting you from the back. I don’t usually pry that much, but craftsmanship like yours… well, it speaks.“

The large woman snorted and finally leaned back, giving Roland some much-needed space. She crossed her massive arms over her chest, her muscles bulging and showcasing battle scarred skin as if she were trying to compete with his face.

“Hah! Name’s Brakka.”

She said it with a grin that was less predatory now and more appreciative.

“Vanguard. I hit things hard so the squishy folk don’t die screaming. You looked like someone worth my time, sugar. Turns out I wasn’t wrong.”

For the time being, Roland decided to keep his helmet off, something he was not used to. The two adventurers quickly informed him of their positions in the party, and he decided to do the same.

“Siegfried. Not sure where they’ll put me. I can be a vanguard or a rearguard.”

The two others glanced at the large black blade he carried. It was wrapped in cloth, though the hilt still jutted out. It was a weapon poorly suited for tight spaces and dangerous to use with too many allies nearby. When delving into a dungeon, the vanguard position was usually the most dangerous, as monsters rarely approached from the rear.

“That slab does look like it’d fit a vanguard, sugar.”

She said, nodding toward the massive sword.

“But it’s nothing compared to my lovely.”

She pointed to a massive greataxe that looked even heavier than the sword Roland had created. Various runes were etched into its surface, enhancing power, speed, and stamina recovery. It was a weapon well-suited for a barbarian who wielded aura or spirit.

“It’s not about the size of the weapon. It’s about how much power you can put into it!”

Harphon chuckled softly as he drank from a cup that would normally be far too large for a gnome to handle. Instead, Roland could see a mana hand spell doing all the heavy lifting while the mage waved his finger and tilted his head back to gulp down the ale.

“Hah! How would a squirt like you know? Everyone knows it’s all about size!”

Brakka wiggled her little pinky at the gnome, which, for some reason made his face flush red with anger.

“No, it’s not, you buffoon!”

Roland inclined his head slightly, taking in the banter as though he already belonged with them. The two did not seem to be part of the inner circle of the expedition, unlike the others who were swarming around the current group leader, who had introduced himself earlier.

“I take it you two aren’t part of the core group.”

Roland said, keeping his voice neutral.

“Core group? Nah. We’re hired blades. Seasonal, you could say, sugar. Not from these parts.”

Brakka laughed loudly, took a swig from her oversized mug, let out a thunderous burp, and then laughed even harder.

It seemed this was the first time these two had approached the super dungeon. That alone did not absolve them of suspicion, but it was far more likely that a crooked guild member would hire someone from within than risk an unknown outsider carrying out the deed.

Roland let the conversation breathe for a moment, allowing the laughter and noise of the hall to wash over them. The two beside him were relaxed now, no longer probing, no longer circling him like predators. If anything, they seemed pleased to have found someone they could talk to without posturing. He took a swig from his own mug of ale. He did not like the taste, but he drank anyway to blend in. Then, when the moment felt right, he began probing with a few questions.

“So, Varek. Know much about him? He looks popular with the other adventurers.”

He asked without expecting much. If the two truly were new, they would not know much either. Still, the man clearly seemed well regarded by his fellow tier three class holders. They clustered around him, laughing and chatting as they discussed the riches awaiting them on the next expedition into the dungeon.

“That man… I’m not sure. There is something about him…”

To Roland’s surprise, the large woman did not seem to like Varek. Some people had an innate sense for troublemakers or those hiding their true nature, so he could not dismiss her reaction outright. The gnome, on the other hand, merely shrugged.

“Looks like the usual blabbermouth to me. He is using flashy equipment, though it isn’t really that exceptional.”

The assessment was partly accurate. Varek’s gear was expensive, but given the number of enchantments and the quality of the materials, it felt as though he could have done better.

‘I’ve marked all of their mana patterns. That’s all I can do for now.’

Some time passed in the restaurant, but he could not gather much more information about the current situation. Of the fifteen tier three holders present, ten were long-time residents of Isgard. His agent had done extensive research on those slated to join this expedition, and by matching that information with their appearances and classes, he had a solid grasp of who was who.

Before long, the evening drew to a close, and the adventurers began to file out. Varek and his companions left behind a considerable mess at their table, along with a generous scatter of gold and silver coins. These were truly high-level adventurers, members of the elite and immensely wealthy. Even nobles would bow their heads to them, hoping to earn their favor or secure their allegiance.

“Haha, everyone, let’s go. Let’s try to reach the second layer as fast as we can.”

The captain shouted to the group, and they seemed highly motivated.

“Yeah!”

Most raised their hands and screamed out in unison as they pumped themselves for the trip.

“Let’s gather outside first. I’ll give you your positions now.”

Roland continued to look around, noticing many things along the way, most of them involving the blatant disrespect shown toward the lower class holders. His group moved at the front as they headed toward the Isgard superdungeon entrance. The porters followed behind, carrying large backpacks filled with various items, including food and replacement gear.

Even though the tier three adventurers were moving at a rapid pace, the people behind them could not complain. They were forced to keep up. Luckily, there were no carriages to slow them down. Most supplies could be stored in spatial storage to reduce the load, but those bags had limitations, and many items were still packed into smaller side pouches. Some porters were stuck lugging around weapons, ready to throw them to a tier three adventurer in case of an emergency.

Ermes had managed to avoid being assigned as a porter for now, as he was grouped with several others. He was part of the logistics team, responsible for keeping equipment combat ready and fixing anything that broke along the way. Two other blacksmiths were with him, along with support staff such as a cook. Even if they ran out of food and became trapped somewhere, someone would be able to prepare meals from monster meat. It was a costly precaution, but for tier three adventurers, it was considered common sense.

“Siegfried, Brakka, I want you to be our vanguard. Can you do it?”

“Leave it to me.”

The barbarian woman swung her massive axe over her shoulder and laughed, while Roland simply nodded. Soon, they arrived at the dungeon entrance, a massive rock formation that looked like a salamander’s head trying to break free from the mountain.

Above them, a cloudy sky loomed, mostly obscured by the volcanic rock they were about to enter. The mountaintop stretched far into the sky, with some buildings embedded directly into its surface. As expected, the entrance was heavily guarded, and every adventurer’s card was carefully checked and recorded.

‘Interesting.’

Roland was unable to keep his floating golems active for now, but he could still see the signs of the recent culling. Claw marks and damage covered the area, with some repairs still underway.

“So this is it then. I wonder how Bernir is holding up.”

As the group moved forward at a slow pace, his thoughts drifted to his assistant. Bernir would be able to attempt the trial again, and the outlook was promising. He had made it quite far, and with the help of the system Roland had created, a large portion of his memories had been retained. All that remained now was to try again and finally succeed.

“What about you, Siegfried?”

“It’s fine. I’m used to being a vanguard.”

His thoughts were interrupted by the adventurer captain. Siegfried and his new acquaintance would be positioned at the front, and as the party took formation, Roland noticed the clear intent behind it. The five adventurers, including himself, were placed in the most dangerous positions, while the remaining ten stayed in the middle with heavier protection. They would be the first responders if anything went wrong, and it was obvious that this had been planned.

Soon their group moved forward, their might seemingly appreciated, though many other tier three adventurers were also present. The first ring was populated only by tier two monsters, nothing their group could not handle. In the second ring, they would finally have to compete with monsters in the one hundred thirty to one hundred ninety range. Once they reached the third area, they would face monsters above level two hundred.

He took his first step toward the entrance. There were no stairs, only the sensation of heading straight into the maw of the monster. It felt as though he were stepping into the belly of a beast, with no idea what awaited them inside. Agni trotted beside him, acting as the third vanguard of the group. Soon, all of them departed on a journey that could take as long as three days to complete.

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