The Do-Over System:My Beloved is the Villain! - Chapter 95

Chapter 95: 03/13-We got company!
Aeliana barely had a moment to catch her breath before Kael tensed beside her, his gaze snapping toward the dark corridor ahead. His hand went instinctively to his sword hilt, though they both knew the blade was barely worth wielding at this point.

“I heard footsteps,” Kael muttered under his breath. His stance shifted, readying for another fight. “We’ve got company.”

Aeliana’s exhaustion vanished in an instant. Her muscles, already sore from battle, tensed once more as she turned toward the tunnel’s entrance. The flickering torchlight barely reached past the jagged stone walls, casting deep, shifting shadows that made it impossible to see who—or what—was approaching.

Garrik sighed dramatically, rolling his shoulders. “Can’t we get a break for five minutes?” He still gripped his axe, but there was a glint of readiness in his eyes.

The footsteps grew closer. Steady. Unhurried. Not the erratic movements of a mindless monster, but deliberate, measured strides.

Aeliana exchanged a quick glance with Kael. This wasn’t some stray creature. Someone was coming.

And they weren’t hiding.

Then, from the darkness, a voice rang out—smooth, rich, and edged with amusement.

“Well, well. That was quite the display.”

A shadowed figure stepped into the dim torchlight. A man, tall and lean, clad in dark leather armor with a long cloak draped over one shoulder. His face was partially obscured by the hood of his cloak, but his piercing silver eyes caught the light, gleaming with interest.

Aeliana’s grip on her sword tightened. “Who are you?”

The stranger tilted his head slightly, as if studying them. “Just a traveler,” he said easily. “Passing through.”

Kael’s expression hardened. “No one just passes through a dungeon like this.”

The man chuckled. “Fair enough. Let’s just say I was curious. It’s not every day you see a team take down a wargolem with sheer determination and barely functional weapons.” His gaze flickered to their battered blades, his smirk widening. “Quite the predicament you’re in.”

Garrik snorted. “Yeah, thanks for the reminder. Who are you, really?”

The man exhaled, seemingly amused by their wariness. He reached up and pulled back his hood, revealing sharp features, short silver-streaked black hair, and an expression that was far too relaxed for someone standing in the depths of a deadly dungeon.

“The name’s Rhys,” he said casually, crossing his arms. “And before you ask—no, I’m not here to fight you.”

Aeliana wasn’t convinced. “Then why are you here?”

Rhys gave her a slow, knowing smile. “Let’s just say I have an interest in people who make enemies out of the wrong merchants.”

Aeliana’s eyes narrowed. “You know about the blacksmith?”

“Oh, I know a lot about him,” Rhys replied. “And from the look on your face, I’d say you’re planning to pay him a visit.”

Kael’s expression remained unreadable. “And what’s it to you?”

Rhys sighed dramatically. “Come now, no need to be so suspicious. I’m offering information.”

Aeliana crossed her arms. “And what do you want in return?”

Rhys smirked. “Smart girl.” He paused for a beat before continuing. “Let’s just say I have my own grievances with our dear blacksmith friend. If you’re planning to deal with him, I’d rather not sit back and watch the show from the sidelines.”

Garrik arched an eyebrow. “So you want in?”

“Something like that.” Rhys glanced at their battered weapons again. “Besides, you’ll need all the help you can get.”

Aeliana wasn’t sure if she liked the idea of an unknown variable joining them, but she had to admit—if Rhys truly had information on the blacksmith, they needed it.

Kael, however, was still watching Rhys carefully, his hand never straying far from his sword. “And how do we know we can trust you?”

Rhys chuckled. “You don’t. But if I wanted to rob you, I wouldn’t have introduced myself first.”

Garrik grinned. “I like him.”

Aeliana sighed, rubbing her temple. “Fine. Talk. What do you know?”

Rhys’s smirk widened. “Oh, you’re going to love this.”

And just like that, their plans had taken an unexpected turn.

Aeliana’s sharp gaze tracked Rhys’s every movement as he took a slow step forward. The dim torchlight flickered against the dungeon walls, casting long, shifting shadows that made the silver glint of his eyes all the more piercing. His confident smirk never wavered as he reached down to his belt, fingers brushing against the hilt of a concealed weapon.

In one fluid motion, he drew it, and Aeliana’s breath caught for just a moment.

Unlike their battered, useless blades, this weapon was something else entirely. It gleamed in the dim light, a long, curved dagger of black steel, its edge serrated like the fangs of some dark beast. Runes—etched in silver and pulsing faintly—lined the flat of the blade, shifting subtly as if alive. The air around it seemed to hum, a barely perceptible vibration that sent a shiver up Aeliana’s spine.

“And this,” Rhys said, his voice tinged with amusement, “is Nightpiercer—a shadowforged dagger.”

Aeliana stiffened. The name alone sent a ripple of recognition through her mind. Shadowforged weapons were rare—crafted in the deepest, most cursed parts of the underworld, imbued with magic capable of slicing through enchantments as easily as flesh. These weren’t weapons sold in any ordinary market. No, they belonged to assassins, rogue warlords, and those willing to pay a fortune for a blade that could end a fight before it even began.

Kael was already reacting, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his ruined sword. His entire body went rigid, his sharp instincts flaring with suspicion. “Where did you get that?”

Rhys smirked, flipping the dagger easily in his grip before tucking it back into his belt. “That’s a story for another time.”

Kael didn’t look convinced. His wariness deepened, the distrust in his eyes unwavering. Aeliana didn’t blame him. A man wielding a weapon like Nightpiercer was either someone very dangerous or someone very well-connected—possibly both.

Rhys, however, seemed utterly unbothered by their suspicion. His smirk never faltered, his silver eyes dancing with amusement as he leaned against the cold stone wall. “The important thing,” he continued, “is that unlike the scraps of metal you’re swinging around, mine actually works.”

Garrik let out a low whistle. “Lucky you. Meanwhile, we’re out here swinging glorified kitchen knives.” He gave his own axe a begrudging glance before shaking his head. “Well, mine’s not that bad, but these two?” He gestured toward Kael and Aeliana. “They’re fighting with paperweights.”

Rhys chuckled, a rich sound that carried effortlessly in the quiet dungeon. “Exactly why I’m offering my help.” His gaze flickered to Aeliana, sharp and assessing. “You want revenge on the blacksmith? I want answers. And I’d rather not sit back and watch the show from the shadows while you all get yourselves killed.”

Aeliana studied him carefully, weighing his words. He was too smooth, too confident—yet there was no malice in his voice. If anything, he sounded genuinely interested. That was the problem. Interest often came with a price.

She exchanged a quick glance with Kael, who was still watching Rhys with open distrust. His jaw was tight, his posture stiff. He didn’t like this. Not one bit.

“We don’t know you,” Kael said finally, his voice edged with steel.

Rhys nodded in acknowledgment. “And I don’t know you. But I do know the blacksmith you’re after, and I know you won’t get far without better weapons.” His gaze flicked toward their battered swords, his smirk widening. “Face it—you need me.”

Aeliana hated to admit it, but he was right. Their weapons were barely holding together, and if this blacksmith was willing to scam adventurers like them, who knew what else he was involved in? If Rhys had insight—if he could tip the odds in their favor—ignoring that advantage would be foolish.

Still, trusting a stranger?

Aeliana exhaled slowly. “Fine,” she said at last. “You want in? You’re in.”

Kael’s head snapped toward her, his expression sharp with disbelief. He clearly wanted to protest, but Aeliana met his gaze head-on. They needed this.

Rhys grinned, clearly pleased with the decision. “Smart choice.”

Garrik clapped his hands together. “Well, now that we have a new friend, can we get out of this damn dungeon? My back still hurts from the last fight.”

Aeliana smirked slightly. “Agreed. Let’s move.”

They turned toward the winding tunnel ahead, the weight of battle still lingering in the air. The path forward was uncertain, but one thing was clear: with Rhys in the mix, things had just gotten a whole lot more complicated.

As they walked, Rhys fell into step beside Aeliana, his hands tucked lazily into his belt. “So,” he mused, voice light with amusement, “just how badly did the blacksmith screw you over?”

Aeliana shot him a sharp glance. “Bad enough.”

Rhys chuckled. “Then we’re going to get along just fine.”

Kael, still uneasy, kept a careful distance from the rogue, his eyes never straying too far from him. He didn’t trust him. Not yet.

And Aeliana?

She wasn’t sure either. But something told her Rhys was more than he seemed.