The irony of the situation wasn't lost on Xen. He had berated the now-absorbed Brandon for reacting strangely to his response, but he couldn't help but stand there, baffled.

  "Did you just respond to me?" Xen said slowly.

  "Yes," the Living Armor replied. Its hollow voice, laced with mana, tickled his mana sense. "Is that strange?"

  Xen nodded. "Yes, it is." He worked his jaw as he tried to formulate the reason. "Monsters don't talk."

  "But you do," the Living Armor said, tilting its head. "Why can't I?"

  "Of course I can talk," Xen said, puffing out his chest. "It's because I'm a smart monster."

  The Living Armor didn't reply, and a silence settled between them.

  "Why didn't you say anything before?" Xen questioned, breaking the awkward silence.

  "You didn't ask anything," the Living Armor flatly replied.

  "Can other monsters talk?"

  "Maybe."

  "So I'm not special then?"

  "I'm afraid not."

  Xen deflated like a balloon and hung his head low. Staring at the floor, he began to question his existence. Despite his best efforts, Brandon had still called him a monster posing as a human. If he couldn't successfully fool people as a shapeshifter, and he wasn't strong like this Living Armor, what was he good at? What made him special?

  He slowly straightened up and stared into the Living Armor's ghostly eyes.

  "What is your name?"

  "I am a dungeon construct. I have no name."

  Xen's eyes widened.

  "A Ha!" He pointed an accusing finger at the Living Armor. "I have a name—therefore, I am special."

  That seemed to confuse the Living Armor. "As an undead living in the dungeon, you should not possess a name." The air became heavy, and Xen saw streaks of mana crackling around the Living Armor.

  In that moment, he was reminded that they weren't friends.

  "You're right, I lied. I have no name," Xen quickly clarified. Due to his [Undeath Resonance] skill, this Living Armor saw him as kin, a fellow undead dungeon monster. He had no reason to compromise that.

  After all, he was special as a monster that had broken free from the control of the dungeon, unlike this Living Armor, which was a being crafted from mana with the sole purpose of carrying out the dungeon's will.

  If his passive skill, making the Living Armor see him as kin, stopped working, the Living Armor would kill him without a second thought, as that was the will of the dungeon.

  The Living Armor stared at him for a long second before drifting back to the center of the room. Perhaps it had deemed the conversation over, or that oppressive feeling in the room had been the dungeon reminding the Living Armor of its duty. Either way, Xen was relieved. There was no more information he could extract from the monster that he didn't already know without arousing suspicion.

  His attention returned to the empty armor lying at his feet.

  "I need to get out of here," he muttered. This quick interaction had reminded him that the dungeon was no longer his home. It was a hostile prison where even the undead, who saw him as kin, would turn on him if he showed a crack in his facade. "Perhaps I could pose as Brandon?"

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  He ran through the scenario and shook his head. Brandon had been left for dead with seemingly no way out. If he were to assume Brandon's identity and walk out of here, they would be far too suspicious, and he wouldn't survive any scrutiny. If he wanted to infiltrate human society, he needed to assume a completely new identity with no ties to anyone or pose as an outcast.

  "I could also try making friends with humans." His skin crawled at the idea, but if he had someone to back him up and help him navigate human conversations, it would be highly beneficial.

  Whatever his future entailed, he knew for sure posing as Brandon wasn't a good idea and that the Living Armor staring into his back was one wrong word away from impaling him.

  Rule one of shapeshifting: keep your cool, Xen. He assured himself as he crouched down and began unbuckling the armor. It was pretty fiddly, and he got frustrated a few times trying to figure out how to unlatch something. After struggling for a while, he got it all undone and started trying to put it on.

  As it turned out, putting on armor proved to be an even more challenging task.

  "What idiot designed this?" he hissed in annoyance as he tried and failed to get the shin guard on right.

  "Do you need help?" the Living Armor asked.

  Xen glanced over his shoulder, "You know how to... ah. Of course you do." He facepalmed. How would a Living Armor not know its way around armor? "Yes, please, any help would be appreciated."

  While speaking, he tried his best to move his jaw in time with the words. Any practice he could get in before encountering the next hunting party was essential.

  The Living Armor floated over and tapped his armor. A pulse of mana washed over him, followed by the armor vanishing into thin air. Xen looked down at his bare body with a frown. While he had been far from done, he had spent a solid few minutes struggling to get half of it on.

  "Where did it go?"

  "Patience," the Living Armor said, waving his hand.

  Xen grunted as cold metal suddenly weighed down on his body. Raising his arm, he inspected the perfectly attached armor. Blinking in disbelief, he looked down and verified that he was fully suited up—perfectly too.

  "How did you do that?"

  "Spatial storage skill," the Living Armor replied.

  Xen held back from licking his lips. He wanted it. Unfortunately, the user of the skill was a level 52 floor boss. I'll be back to devour you one day, he silently thought. It was a shame, as he liked the Living Armor, but as previously established, the Living Armor was a dungeon construct. It lived and died by the dungeon's will, and therefore, they were enemies.

  Nodding, he gave his thanks and walked past the Living Armor to his previous suit of armor that was buried under a collapsed wall of rubble. He winced, seeing how close the boulders had gotten to crushing his head, which would have ended his life. Reaching down, he picked up the badly beaten-up helmet and put it on.

  I'll replace all of this armor the first chance I get, he mused as he glanced around and managed to locate his bow and sword that had been sent flying. The sword was chipped at the tip, and a part of the handle was bent in, but it seemed usable enough. The bow, however, was broken.

  "Didn't know how to use it anyway," he said, crunching what remained of it underfoot. Unfortunately, the magic-resistant cloak he had stolen from the Undead Mage was shredded and crushed under the rocks, so he had to leave it behind.

  If only I had that darn spatial storage skill. How useful would that be?

  Sadly, he could only devour the Living Armor in his dreams... for now.

  In the present, he had a choice. Did he delve deeper into the crypt, or try to sneak out of the entrance the other Hunters had retreated from and escape to the surface?

  "Do I want to fight with those Hunters, or get possibly lost in an endless maze filled with undead?" he sighed and began walking toward the far exit. The answer was obvious, as the undead saw him as kin, letting him get the jump on any he encountered. Even if there was a godly bone dragon down there, it should leave him alone.

  Honestly, anything was a better option than facing a strike team of priests, and he still had a long way to go before he could safely sneak into human society.

  ***

  [Sand-Drowned Revenant (Level: 11)]

  "Mhm," Xen hummed as he stared down at the black sand underfoot. He had thought it was strange when the floor of the crypt shifted from stone to black sand. He had grown further suspicious when scrutinizing it with [Mystic Perception (C)] and seeing unnatural flows of mana.

  Something was lurking below the sand, and his appraisal skill had confirmed exactly what.

  A Sand-Drowned Revenant—whatever that was.

  His golden mana-empowered gaze drifted across the sand, and he found another one.

  [Sand-Drowned Revenant (Level: 9)]

  "There's more of them lurking, how interesting," Xen mused. With plans to power level his Necrovore Slime and Human form, he would kill any monsters he came across, and luckily, these new foes had levels that were more in line with what he expected from the second floor of the World Dungeon.

  "Crescent Rage."

  Raising his sword overhead, it crackled with red mana. Sensing some movement in the sand, he also cast, "Indomitable Defense." A metallic sheen, far denser than what the aura of the Iron Legion coated his sword and armor. It was the new skill he had stolen from Brandon, and it let him empower the durability of weapons and armor.

  Right as he was bringing the sword down, the sand exploded upwards, barely concealing a half-rotten corpse with razor-sharp teeth and black eyes.

  Xen brought the Crescent Rage empowered blade down and smacked it right in the face with a satisfying crunch.