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Is it wrong for a reincarnated soul to crave a death that leaves an indelible scar on the hearts of loved ones?

Chapter 23 : The Adventure of Bell Cranel ① New
"Hah— hah—,"

I barely managed to stand on my trembling legs, my body covered in wounds. Before me stood a mountain of muscle in human-like form with a bull's head—a Minotaur. His massive frame and the aura radiating from him made him look like an impregnable fortress.

Even after I struck it with my [Firebolt], the single-horned Minotaur remained completely unharmed. My magic had done little more than leave faint scorch marks on its thick hide. It had dealt no real damage.

My heart had been pounding violently for a long time, as if I were sprinting at full speed. My lungs screamed for oxygen. Despite this, I had no choice but to brandish my knife and show my will to fight. If I didn't, death would be my only end.

The Minotaur, which had lost one of its horns, fixed its gaze on me. Just as my resolve began to crumble under the sheer weight of the gap between us, the beast threw its head back and roared from the depths of its throat.

"Bwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaow!!"

The cry made the very air vibrate. It erupted with a force that nearly tore my eardrums.

That roar signaled the start of the battle. The Minotaur raised its massive Greatsword and charged at me, shattering the ground beneath its hooves. I dodged the attack by a hair's breadth.

The Greatsword slammed into the earth with the terrifying sound of tearing air, generating a shockwave that blew away the surrounding trees and rocks.

This was the adventure—the first true adventure of Bell Cranel.

(I can't win...)

I had trained under Mr. Bete and grown much stronger than before; that was something I could say with pride.

But this was impossible. With my current [Strength] stats, no matter how much I swung my knife against that steel-like hide, I would achieve nothing more than shallow scratches. Even my trump card, magic, had been easily shrugged off. My current self simply could not defeat this monster.

That raging, bloodthirsty bull seemed like the very incarnation of despair.

"... Brother, Grandpa."

I wanted to see them. I wanted to meet them just to feel safe.

I wanted them to push my back and tell me that everything would be alright. These weak feelings began to flood my heart. I nearly wept as I remembered my grandfather's smile—the man everyone loved, who always smiled and gently patted my head.

He loved stories of heroes and claimed he could never be like them, yet he was braver than anyone. I still vividly remember when he saved me from a goblin while wielding nothing but a pickaxe.

And then there was my brother, who had been silent for as long as I could remember. I had never seen him smile, yet he was the bravest of all and cared for his family more than anyone.

He used to say he didn't want to be a hero and couldn't become one no matter how much Grandpa insisted, but that was a lie. Despite his words, I saw the grueling effort he put in since childhood. He protected me from every kind of fear.

To me, the heroes I aspired to be weren't characters from stories; they were my own family.

But I couldn't bring myself to find them. I love my brother dearly, but I was afraid. Once I did a bit of research in Orario, I found out about him easily. They said he was one of the leaders of the [Loki Familia], the largest Familia in the city. He was one of only two people to reach Level 7, breaking every speed record in existence.

In contrast, what had I done in the four years since he left?

.... I had done nothing of note. I hadn't even trained my body. I was terrified of facing him and seeing the vast chasm between myself and my "hero" brother. I was afraid that while he had become a legend, I hadn't changed at all. That's why I ran. I even abandoned the dream of following in his footsteps.

Even after I started training with Mr. Bete, that didn't change.

I kept making excuses to avoid meeting my brother... I was running away from my own ambition.

Ah, but I wish I could have seen him—

While the Minotaur raised its Greatsword, roaring and spraying saliva, my life began to flash before my eyes. Yet, a part of me remained calm despite the fear paralyzing my body.

The Minotaur's form, covered in muscle like woven metal, looked like a steel citadel. I had no way to break that defense. Even [Firebolt] only scorched its thick skin; it wasn't a lethal wound. My attacks did nothing, while its strikes meant certain death.

"Fooooooo"

As I watched the blade of the Greatsword pointed at me, my senses cooled rapidly. Far from the consciousness dominated by surrender, a survival instinct screamed inside me that I did not want to die. The fear of death suddenly banished my weakness, making my mind boil with heat. If I stayed standing like this, I wouldn't be the only one killed—Lili would die too. That was the one thing I could not allow.

As the Minotaur charged in a frenzy, I kicked off the ground with all my might, retreating in a desperate, ungraceful scramble. A chill ran through my entire body as the sensation of death closed in from behind. My legs shook, barely able to support me.

Still, I ran. I ran in the opposite direction of Lili to lead the beast as far away as possible. But the Minotaur was fast. As I dashed toward the large hall, that massive body reached me in the blink of an eye, cornering me sharply.

(This Minotaur... it's truly different from the ones I saw before.)

The way it hunted its prey was not like a beast; it showed an intelligence an ordinary monster didn't possess. Its skill as a warrior was evident in how it swung its Greatsword like a sharp blade rather than a blunt instrument, even if its technique wasn't perfect.

This Minotaur was clearly different from the others. Its strength and speed were several levels above the one that had chased me before.

(... Could it be an Enhanced Species?)

I had heard from Miss Eina and Mr. Bete that there were extremely rare monsters in the Dungeon called "Enhanced Species." They grew incredibly strong by eating the magic stones of their own kind. The Minotaur standing before me was undoubtedly one of them. Normally, a Level 1 could never win against a Minotaur, let alone an enhanced one. In that case, the chances of victory were zero.

Even so, I had to at least let Lili escape!

"Fmoooooon!!"

"── Ggg!!"

The Minotaur kicked the Dungeon floor, shattering it, and lunged through a thick cloud of dust. It spun in the air and swung its Greatsword with immense force, utilizing centrifugal power. The blow was so violent that I heard the air itself tear.

I dodged the strike—which would have turned me into mincemeat—by a hair's breadth. I struggled to avoid attacks that would have snapped my bones before even cutting my skin. Sometimes I dodged by rolling frantically across the ground.

The Minotaur did not stop its relentless assault. As soon as it landed, it attempted a crushing horizontal sweep. Unlike a vertical strike, the horizontal swing increased the attack's range, leaving little room to dodge. Yet, somehow, I managed to evade it.

Every one of the Minotaur's strikes was heavy. The gap in stats due to the level difference was as clear as day. A mere graze from its weapon would send me flying.

So, I had no choice but to dodge.

But I couldn't keep dodging forever. When my movements finally began to slow, a wicked grin spread across the Minotaur's face. It reset its Greatsword on its shoulder and approached me.

The strike it launched, fueled by the sword's weight, was unlike any before. The blow combined speed and mass, whistling past my head like a gale.

Amidst this overwhelming onslaught, I caught a glimpse of Lili in my peripheral vision. Run, quickly, with everything you have! If you do, I can run with all my might too.

So, run, Lili!
I wanted to scream, but only a pathetic wheeze came from my throat. Fear choked my voice. The Minotaur smirked at me and kicked the ground again. It was coming. And its target was where Lili stood.

"Go.... GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

I threw myself into the path of the charging Minotaur and screamed at Lili. My words seemed to reach her; she turned toward me with a stunned expression, her face then twisting with emotion before she started to run. As she disappeared from my sight, a sense of relief washed over me. I focused my gaze back on the approaching beast.

With this, I could escape too────── But that wasn't the case at all.

My legs were shaking with terror. My heart overflowed with the urge to flee. But if I ran now, who would protect Lili? I had to protect her. I had to fight. I had to save her.

I screamed as if encouraging my own soul, which was on the verge of collapsing under the fear. If my grandfather, or my hero brother, were in my place, what would they do?! Would they run while someone was behind them needing protection?!

Facing the Minotaur's Greatsword, I drew the [Baselard] dagger from my waist.

"Goooooo!!"

Because I had made a suicidal jump into the kill zone with shattered armor that barely worked, a sharp pain shot through my entire body.

Every time the Minotaur's sword smashed something, and every time stone shards struck me like bullets, my consciousness flickered. Yet, I held on desperately and parried the successive sword strikes.

The Minotaur's breathing became ragged as it grew frustrated by its inability to catch me. My own breathing was even worse. Though drenched in sweat, I kept my feet moving. To get as far away as possible. To live just a little longer.

I no longer knew how long I had been fighting. I didn't know how much time had passed since entering the Dungeon.

In reality, perhaps not much time had passed at all. But in the middle of this battle that had numbed my sense of time, I realized one thing clearly.

"..... Ha, haha."

A smile escaped me unintentionally.

Not because I had gone mad with fear, but because I realized something.

──── Mr. Bete is much more terrifying.

No matter how strong this Minotaur was or that it was an enhanced species, compared to Mr. Bete, who beat me senseless every day, it was just a monster. The proof was that I wasn't dead yet. If my opponent had been Mr. Bete in a fit of rage, I would have been killed long ago.

The other thing was that although I was inferior in every way, there was one thing I wasn't losing in: speed, or [Agility]. The moment I realized that, my heart suddenly felt light. Now, I felt I could move a little better.

The Minotaur seemed to notice the change in me and redirected its Greatsword. It prepared to launch a strike with the blade raised high.

It was a strike faster than any before. It couldn't be dodged, and if I took it head-on, I would die. So, I didn't try to dodge the usual way. Before the sharp blade could reach me, I shifted my body slightly to move out of its trajectory and then rolled directly on the ground.

Because I rolled with such force, my entire body slammed into the floor, but thanks to that, the Minotaur's attack sliced through nothing but air.

However, when I stood up, I was blindsided by a follow-up headbutt that sent me flying. When my back slammed into the wall, every bit of air was knocked out of my lungs.

Immediately after, the Minotaur's massive hand grabbed my leg with a crushing grip and lifted me up. I tried to struggle while hanging in the air, but my captured ankle was squeezed with the force of a hydraulic press, leaving me unable to move.

"──── Tch?!"

"Gwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!"

The Minotaur began to swing me like a pair of nunchaku. With my vision shaking violently, I couldn't resist and remained at the mercy of its strength.

As it shook me, my joints began to scream. Amidst the sound of my bones creaking, I tried to squirm free, but the Minotaur didn't budge. No matter how I twisted, the absolute power shaking me prevented me from fixing my gaze.

Then, the Minotaur threw me. I felt weightless, followed by a sudden crash. My consciousness nearly faded from the pain of an impact that almost shattered the floor, but I held on at the last second.

However, my lungs, crushed by the shock, forced out a violent exhale that left me coughing uncontrollably. A wave of pain from my creaking bones washed over me.

My attempt to take a defensive stance collapsed, and I fell flat on my face. If this continued, I would truly die. I struggled to stand despite the agony, but my knees shook, and I couldn't find my footing.

The Minotaur took a step toward me. Though I thought I had to move, my body wouldn't respond. When I raised my face, trembling, I saw a massive shadow.

The Minotaur stood over me, brandishing its Greatsword. Its expression carried clear murderous intent, and its mouth seemed twisted into a smirk.

"── Ah, i (Move, body, move! Move! Move!!)"

Massive hooves approached as the ground shook. Despite the Minotaur's proximity, my body wouldn't budge. The beast's eyes were fixed on me. It was about to kill me now. Just as I thought it was the end, the shaking of the ground stopped unnaturally.

Feeling a sense of strangeness, I looked up through the pain, and there──────

●○●○●

Early in the morning, in the central plaza before Babel, which plugs the great hole of the Dungeon. In the city's central square where the main streets converge and the sunlight floods in, a large crowd of adventurers had gathered, regardless of their Familias.

In their midst stood a human girl holding a rapier, a wolfman wearing metal boots, a slender elf holding a staff tipped with a massive magic stone, a dwarf with a body as solid as armor, two Amazon sisters equipped with heavy weapons, a Pallum carrying a shining golden spear on his shoulder, and finally, a white-haired human wearing light armor.

People of various races had gathered at this day, time, and place. They were the elite of the [Loki Familia], the expedition team that would brave the undiscovered regions.

Adventurers from various Familias friendly to Loki had gathered to cheer them on or provide supplies.

The Loki Familia crossed the city's main street, followed by several wagons loaded with supplies for the expedition. On the opposite side of Babel's North Gate, Guild employees sent for the occasion stood in line.

They marched toward the gate, raising the Familia banner bearing the city's most famous clown emblem, amidst the gazes of expectation and envy from those around them. Now, they waited with bated breath for the commander's order to depart.

"Listen well, Bete Loga. I forced myself to make these silver boots for you on an impossible schedule. if you break them again, I won't go easy on you."

"And do I break them on purpose? I know that. But you, hey, get away from me!!"

A half-dwarf woman with a lithe body that didn't suggest dwarf blood, features reminiscent of the Far East, a black eye patch similar to Hephaestus's, and tanned skin. She hid her skin with maze-specific weapons that blended traditional Far Eastern attire with continental style. She was calling out to Bete and getting uncomfortably close, smiling wickedly.

Bete was raising his voice at Tsubaki Collbrande, the captain of the [Hephaestus Familia] who would accompany them on the expedition, saying she was annoying him. He tried to push her forehead away in boredom, but Tsubaki only leaned closer, enjoying his reaction every time he showed his annoyance.

As the one holding the imposing title "Cyclops" and possessing strength that rivaled Level 1 adventurers despite being a blacksmith, it wasn't easy for Bete to escape her embrace, which clearly showed her physical power.

Bete's special weapon, [Flosvirt], was Tsubaki's creation. Perhaps for that reason, she clung to him more than usual, while Bete wore an expression of deep, heartfelt loathing.

Riveria and the others watched their exchange with bitter smiles.

In addition to the Hephaestus Familia members who wouldn't be accompanying them, there were adventurers with personal ties to the Loki Familia calling out and sending cheers. Some gods were also sending encouragement to the popular girls like Ais and Tione.

"Master Al, please be careful of the red-haired woman..."

"Right."

Ais was saying goodbye to Lulune the Chien from the [Hermes Familia], who had shared several missions with her. Meanwhile, Al was exchanging greetings with Cassandra from the [Apollo Familia] and Amid from the [Dian Cecht Familia], who gave him items to use inside the Dungeon.

"Everyone, we begin the expedition now!!"

Finn shouted in the middle of the group, and everyone straightened their posture. The morale of the members heading out of the city was very high. Everyone was excited about entering undiscovered areas—exploring unknown floors that hadn't been touched since the days of the [Zeus Familia].

"As we advance through the floors, we will split into two groups again! I will lead the first group with Riveria, and Gareth will lead the second! After meeting on the 18th Floor, we will move all at once to the 50th Floor! Our goal is nothing but the undiscovered regions!!"

"You are brave warriors and adventurers no less significant than the heroes of the 'Ancient Times'! We will challenge the great unknown, and we will return with wealth and glory!!"

Cheers erupted in response to Finn's words. Not only the adventurers but even the common citizens of the city placed their hopes on them, raising their voices in support. Many gods not present were also excited by this feat. Their challenge to the unknown provided an incentive that nothing could replace.

Finn continued after checking the gathered crowd of adventurers.

"We do not need false glory built on sacrifices!! I want everyone to swear by the light of this Upper World that you will definitely return alive!!"

"Expedition team, move out!!"

Amidst the rising war cries, the Loki Familia departed.

To protect the support team—the heart of the expedition that carries supplies and spare weapons for the worm-type monsters—from any emergencies that might occur in the Dungeon, the vanguard composed of elite Level 1 adventurers set out.

The first to enter the Dungeon to fight was the vanguard. This was a group consisting of prominent members: seven Level 1 adventurers. Leading them was Al, the strongest in the Familia at Level 7, along with Finn and Riveria, followed by Ais, Tione, Tiona, and Bete. They were accompanied by Raul and others as support—members of the second squad, Level 2 adventurers.

The second group was led by Gareth, consisting mainly of experienced fighters Level 3 and above, including Lefiya and the other mages. They were accompanied by a larger number of guards than the first group.

"Wait, Tione. Why are people from another Familia mixed in with the group? Those people aren't just hired supporters, are they?"

As the divided group advanced through the narrow corridors of the upper floors, Tiona asked her sister Tione, who was walking beside her. Tiona saw the blacksmiths of the Hephaestus Familia following them, carrying various tools, and asked in delayed wonder.

"Stupid Tiona. Did you already forget why we retreated in the last expedition?"

"They are blacksmiths, Tiona."

"Ah!!"

Tione felt despair at her thoughtless sister, while Riveria explained the matter seriously. The blacksmiths' role is primarily the maintenance of weapons and armor. They usually don't participate in combat, but their lives are still at risk. Therefore, they requested help from the Hephaestus Familia blacksmiths, who are stronger than average high-level adventurers.

Especially this time, there is a contract to deliver rare items obtained from the deep floors during the expedition. When dividing the personnel into the vanguard and support teams, the blacksmiths were also split. Tsubaki, who rivaled Level 1 adventurers, accompanied the support group with Gareth.

"Hmph. If they're from the Hephaestus Familia, they won't become a burden even by mistake. That reassures me."

"Here we go again... Bete's arrogant bragging."

Bete snorted as he saw the high-level blacksmiths from the Hephaestus Familia, who were stronger than the average members of the Loki Familia. Tiona intervened, looking at him with half an eye.

"Bete, why can't you talk in any other way? Do you feel comfortable when you look down on other adventurers? I hate that behavior."

"Don't get me wrong. I don't perform such a disgraceful act as looking down on the weak to feel superior. I'm just stating the truth."

Bete replied coldly to Tiona, who knitted her brows in anger. He believed that looking down on the weak had its own meaning—that was his conviction. No one cared about Bete's words because they were as usual, but on the other hand, Tiona did not hide her dissatisfied expression.

"I simply hate the weak intensely. They smile foolishly while they can't do anything. I can't stop feeling nauseous."

"I hear nothing in your words but the arrogance of someone standing in a position of power."

"That's right. Even Bete had times when he was weak."

"I'm just telling them to know their place."

Riveria and Tiona offered advice to Bete. But he didn't care; he spat out his words in annoyance.

Listening to the dialogue, Ais murmured a question born of transparent curiosity.

"..... Then, why did Mr. Bete take Al's brother as his student?"

──── In that moment, the air froze. Everyone stood still, and the color drained from Bete's face. Even Ais, who asked the question, was surprised by the change in everyone.

".. Heh, what are you saying, Ais? Bete? A student? Al's brother? The one Ais saved from the Minotaur? No, no, no, no. It's impossible for Bete to take a student."

Tiona asked Ais with fear and agitation after being the first to recover from the frozen air. But Ais tilted her head with a questioning expression and said simply:

"Really? But the movements I saw before were very similar to Mr. Bete's..."

Hearing these words, not only Tiona and the others but even Raul and the Level 2 adventurers began to murmur: "Come to think of it, about half a month ago there was a rumor that Mr. Bete took a student..." "No, but are you talking about Bete?" "Wait, what does Master Al's brother look like?" And so on, but they immediately shut their mouths, worried about Bete. Bete remained silent, staring at Ais's face, but he clicked his tongue and looked away when he saw her questioning state.

"..... I thought it was just a rumor, but is it the truth?"

Riveria asked Bete, appearing to be caught between belief and disbelief, but Bete remained silent in embarrassment. This behavior gave credibility to Ais's words rather than a denial.

"..... Four people, I think."

After some time had passed since the talk about Bete's student ended, Ais suddenly raised her head. The others stopped with her and looked toward the end of the corridor.

At the end of the corridor where Ais and the others were about to pass, the sound of adventurers running violently echoed.

The adventurers who encountered the Loki Familia—a gathering of Level 1 adventurers—stopped, gasping for breath.

"Oh my god?! The Loki Familia!! Is it.. is it an expedition?!"

The adventurers who realized the identity of Ais and the others began to retreat suddenly. Bete asked them what they were doing.

At first, one of the adventurers wanted to object to Bete's contempt-filled words, but before he could, someone else raised their voice.

"There's a Minotaur."

"... Huh?"

"I told you, it's a Minotaur!! That bull monster was wandering in these upper floors!!"

Bete and the others couldn't hide their surprise at the appearance of a Minotaur—a monster from the middle floors and one of the strongest—in the shallow upper floors. It was an emergency. Led by Bete and Riveria, everyone immediately took a fighting stance.

"... I apologize. Can you tell us in detail what you saw?"

"Ah, yes...."

At Finn's request, the adventurer, whose breathing had not yet regulated, began to explain in confusion. Upon hearing the details, Ais────── and then Bete charged toward the adventurers.

"Where did you see that Minotaur!!"

Everyone stopped moving at the sound of Bete's terrifying voice. Tiona and the others, the adventurers before them, the expedition team that had stopped advancing, and even Ais—everyone stood frozen.

This appearance was completely different from his usual self. His look, filled with anxiety and confusion, made everyone marvel.

"On which floor is that boy being attacked?! Tell me where!!"

"The Ninth... The Ninth Floor.... if he hasn't moved yet....."

Upon hearing that, Bete dashed toward the front corridor, and Ais followed him.

"Damn it, to hell with this──!!"

"! I'm going too!!"

Before anyone could stop them, the two sped off at full speed inside the Dungeon. They smashed through any monsters they encountered, running along the official path toward the Ninth Floor.

In the corridor that grew quiet and had no trace of monsters, only the echo of their footsteps rang out. Then, the roar of a raging bull echoed from afar.

"Damn it── is that a roar?"

The Minotaur's roar, which breaks the resolve of whoever hears it, caused Bete to increase his speed after it was mixed with a simple human scream.

No matter how much he had evolved, a Level 1 adventurer would inevitably perish if attacked by a Minotaur. Bete, who knew Bell's abilities better than Bell knew them himself, imagined the worst outcomes.

While the two continued to advance in the labyrinth relying only on sound, they finally found a human shadow ahead. Bete stopped unintentionally when he saw it. A Pallum girl, her small body drenched in blood.

"Adventurers.... M-Master Bete!! Please, please save him!!"

Her chestnut hair was dyed red, and she didn't even try to wipe the blood streaming from her head. She was screaming in tears.

At the sight of that scene, Bete felt an illusion as if his blood were boiling throughout his body.

"That person... save Master Bell....!!"

"Where is he!!"

"The official path, E-16, the large hall..."

She pointed her trembling finger toward the end of the corridor where her bloodstains continued, then collapsed, unconscious as if her strength had vanished. Bete picked her up, then gritted his teeth. He ran while carrying her, as if time allowed no waste.

Signs of anxiety were clear on Ais's face as well. Bete ignored her, and Ais said nothing more, but continued to run beside him in silence.

──── And when they burst into the last large hall before the target area.

"Stop."

A calm voice was thrown. In the hall where neither monster nor adventurer was present, the echo of two footsteps resonated. At the sight of that shadow standing at the end of their vision, veins of anger appeared on Bete's forehead. He carried a Greatsword on his back that rivaled his body length and fixed his gaze on them with cold eyes.

A Boaz man exceeding two meters in height. He was a man resembling a rock, embodying the word "warrior." His body was trained like steel, and his rust-colored eyes showed no emotion.

"..... 'The King'!!"

The captain of the [Freya Familia], Ottar. One of the two strongest people in Orario was standing there.

●○●○●

"Ah..... Master Al, don't you have to go too?"

"Ah, well, the opponent is just a Minotaur anyway."

"?"
 
Chapter 24: "The King" Ottar New
"The King!!"

Ottar, the captain of the Freya Familia and the "Warlord." He was the Level 7 adventurer who eclipsed the three pillars of the Loki Familia: Finn, Riveria, and Gareth. He stood alone as the strongest adventurer in all of Orario.

A true champion who had rewritten the history of power over a millennium, he transcended the boundaries between mortals and gods. He remained the ultimate pinnacle of the human realm—a wall that even the catastrophic genius Al had yet to overcome.

This behemoth appeared in the hall to block their path. Ais tightened her grip on her sword's hilt, while Bete clicked his tongue in a display of sheer annoyance.

The two could not fathom the situation. They didn't understand why the strongest man in the city would stand in their way. Regardless, they could not simply ignore him and move forward.

The faint moans of the Pallum girl in Bete's arms reached Ais's ears.

The aura radiating from the warrior, standing as firm as a mountain in the depths of the hall, was enough to make their skin prickle with a heat and pressure that felt as though it might incinerate them.

The man blocking the passage to the Minotaur's location seemed to dominate the entire labyrinth through his presence alone. He wore light armor covering only his vitals; his muscles themselves served as a full suit of plate armor. A large bag hung from his back.

Ignoring their sharp glares, he calmly pulled an array of weapons from his bag—greatswords and various blades. He drove them into the ground with heavy thuds until they filled a corner of the hall.

He reached for one: a massive double-edged greatsword forged from a heavy silver alloy. He hoisted it onto his shoulder and lowered his center of gravity, settling into a combat stance.

"Sword Princess, Vanargand... Will you spar with me?"

He was going to attack. Ais realized this instinctively the moment he shifted. Bete noticed it too, his lips curling back in a snarl. In that instant, the air changed. A skin-crawling tension took hold, and the euphoria of an impending battle filled the room.

"Why!!"

"You have encountered a hostile faction in the Dungeon after many long years... Is that not reason enough for us to kill one another?"

Bete drew his weapon suddenly, and Ais instinctively did the same. Unlike Ais, whose mind was clouded by confusion and anxiety over the timing of this duel, Bete was calm—deadly calm, even as he boiled with rage.

He gritted his teeth, suppressing the urge to lunge forward prematurely. When he finally spoke, his words felt like a flood of repressed emotion, a surge of pure murderous intent.

"I'm going to kill you."

"Put the girl down."

Their clashing wills and rising bloodlust seemed to warp the very space around them. There was no room left for thought.

Standing before them was one of the two poles that sat at the summit of the City of Heroes.

The man who stood at the zenith of all adventurers: the iron-willed Ottar.

"Come."

The "Sword Princess" and "Vanargand." Two first-class adventurers, each capable of slaying dragons single-handedly, faced a single man with spirits overflowing with lethal intent.

The pressure they emitted would have sent any monster on this floor fleeing in terror. They watched each other with a precision that caught every twitch of a hand or foot.

Responding to the killing intent filling the air, Ais drew her sword and lunged, while Bete began his rapid sprint. Bete initiated the strike; his speed ranked among the best in Orario despite being Level 5. Ais followed in his wake, kicking off the ground and launching herself with blinding velocity.

Facing the two who approached like a hurricane, Ottar did not move. Ais and Bete attempted to flank him from the left and right to trap him.

A split second before their blades connected, Ottar swung his greatsword. A massive collision followed; the clash of metal rang out, and sparks showered the floor. Bete pressed forward, attempting to shove Ottar back, but the latter effortlessly absorbed the force through the sheer strength of his stance.

They continued to move at high speeds, their weapons clashing repeatedly. Every time Bete threw a punch, Ottar parried or blocked it with his massive blade.

These attacks weren't aimed at a finishing blow; rather, they were testing the waters, each side trying to wear the other down. Then, Ais launched a lightning-fast diagonal strike.

The strike moved so quickly it seemed to slice through the air itself; an ordinary person wouldn't have even seen it. But her opponent was different. This monster swung a super-heavy greatsword with one hand as if it were a feather. He wouldn't be stopped by that.

Ottar took Ais's attack on his left vambrace, while his right hand sent the greatsword sliding in a diagonal arc. Ais retreated immediately to create distance, fearing he might exploit any lapse in her balance.

No counter-attack followed.

Irritated by this, Bete launched another assault. He delivered a strike with all his might from above, and the force of Ottar's block sent a shudder through the air.

But that lasted only a moment. With a cold expression, as if the attack had done nothing at all, Ottar delivered a kick that sent Bete flying. Bete skillfully regained control in mid-air and charged back as soon as his feet hit the ground. Ais lunged behind him to support him.

But—

"Tepid."

Ottar swung a crushing horizontal blow with his greatsword toward the charging Bete. Instinctively, Bete took evasive action to avoid the blade coming from the side. However, as if Ottar had anticipated the move, the greatsword's trajectory shifted.

The path changed from horizontal to vertical. Bete managed to avoid it only by lunging directly forward. While Bete escaped by a hair, Ottar's sword didn't stop; it continued its pursuit.

When Bete retreated with a quick step, the ground before him shattered with a thunderous roar.

Immediately, Ais—having circled behind Ottar—launched a fresh attack. The combined, sequential assaults of Bete and Ais possessed a destructive power capable of turning any ordinary monster into a pile of meat in an instant.

It was a continuous barrage of near-perfect sword thrusts and merciless death-kicks. Every blow in that rain of steel was a potential finisher.

Yet, none reached Ottar. It felt as though they were cutting through smoke; they felt no real resistance. Though the attacks from Ais and her companion should have landed, they didn't leave a single scratch on him. On the contrary, he had the luxury to counter-attack.

Simultaneously with Ais's strike, Ottar brought his greatsword down. Ais avoided it by crouching low. From that position, she tried to drive an upward strike, but Ottar parried it, redirected the momentum, and pushed her away.

"Sword Princess, have you reached new heights?"

Ottar murmured as he observed Ais's speed and a level of skill that surpassed even Floor Bosses.

Facing the inescapable hurricane of death created by two seasoned first-class adventurers, even Ottar shouldn't have emerged unscathed.

Yet, he handled it all with an ease that suggested Ais and Bete posed no significant threat.

This was the pinnacle of martial arts—something entirely different from Al's "Absolute Response" driven by divine intuition and unique talent. This was "Absolute Defense," built upon a skill set polished by long years of experience and relentless effort.

Ottar parried every lethal blow raining down on him, from the death-kicks to the near-perfect swordplay.

Ais was stunned as her swordsmanship crumbled before him, her confidence wavering slightly.

Ottar did not miss that opening. He knocked Ais's rapier aside and, with a rebounding blow, sent her flying.

"── Ack?!"

"Ais!"

"And you, Vanargand... do you stand before the wall only to overcome it?"

Ais hit the ground with immense force, creating a crater in the floor. Though she used her guard to protect herself at the last second, the power was indescribable. As for Bete, his concern for Ais led him right into a trap; he was knocked back by a single strike of the sword.

Despite the super-heavy nature of the greatsword, his strikes were faster than Ais's rapier. This was truly the realm of heroes—a monster who combined matchless physical abilities with swordsmanship that far outclassed Ais.

He was a fortress made of iron and stone.

Even under continuous attacks that signaled death at every turn, Ottar didn't budge an inch. He was as steady as a great boulder and as sharp as a sword cutting through a storm. He wore the majesty befitting his title, brushing off their violent assault with ease.

(This is...)

(...Level 7!!)


They never had the chance for a serious duel charged with lethal intent against the "other peak" outside of training due to their respective positions. They felt overwhelmed by the height of the summit they were now expected to chase.

A seasoned hero, a monster who had reached the zenith. The skills he had built through a mountain of defeats now bore down on them. It was, quite simply, a difference in experience—a difference in the sheer amount of time he had invested in training.

"Damn it—give me the wind!!"

"Awaken!!"

Bete realized they would lose even at two-against-one. He shouted for support, and Ais, sharing his thought, agreed. She lifted the ban on the reinforcement magic she usually hid in battles against humans. A storm erupted from Ais's body and settled into Bete's silver boots, imbuing them with the power of the wind.

Thanks to the wind enchantment, Bete's kick accelerated explosively, breaking the sound barrier. A blinding kick faster than sound launched toward Ottar's body.

"Gwaaaa!!"

Ottar's rust-colored eyes flashed sharply at the kick encased in a spiritual storm—undoubtedly the fastest and strongest strike of the battle. The greatsword clashed with the silver, storm-clad boot, and a thunderous impact shook the air.

Yet, Ottar had used his greatsword as a shield, blocking the attack perfectly. Bete didn't stop; he kicked the side of the greatsword and leapt. Reaching the space above Ottar's head, he drew more wind and unleashed a flurry of kicks that shattered the air like a localized cyclone.

Then, an unbelievable sight unfolded before them.

Ottar continued to block Bete's violent assault, which accelerated repeatedly through the storm, with the hardness of a rock. As if the greatsword itself possessed a will, it moved freely in every direction, crushing every kick or punch Bete threw.

The movement of Ottar's greatsword in response to the fury of the wind seemed to merge with the storm itself. Ottar's unwavering advance clashed with Bete's rapid movements, and the two transformed into a vortex. It was a perfect defense without a single opening.

Bete did not let up. He knew instinctively that if he stopped attacking for even a moment, Ottar's blade would run him through. But the more he attacked, the more solid Ottar's defense became.

Through the "skill and guile" possessed by the strongest man, all their attacks were thwarted. Remarkably, the scene closely mirrored Al's fighting style when he completely defeated Revis in the city of Rivira.

It was a difference in the number of real battles and pure combat experience. They felt this bitterness in the heat of the fight. Despite their numerical advantage and magic, the gap remained impossible to bridge.

Wounds began to appear gradually on Bete's body, and the scratches on Ais's frame multiplied. What separated them from their opponent was a bottomless abyss in strength—inhuman combat ability backed by endless, ceaseless training.

Even Revis, that hybrid of human and monster—or a tainted spirit merged with a beast—likely wouldn't reach this man's level.

How much training had he accumulated? How many hardships had he overcome? How many great achievements had he secured to reach this peak?

── The word "genius" felt too weak to describe him.

The entity before them was undoubtedly the monster standing at the summit.

The two trembled in awe of the monster who reached the top through unyielding effort.

"!!"

"──?!"

Ottar exploited the moment fear took hold of them; his greatsword shattered Ais's wind barrier. Although the blow landed on her guard, the impact was equivalent to a massive physical charge, sending shocks through Ais's body.

Still, Ais somehow held her ground. She thrust her rapier, Desperate, forward, utilizing the blessing of the storm. Before the blade imbued with wind magic could reach Ottar's body, he diverted it with an agility that defied his massive frame.

Ottar tried to exploit her broken balance after the thrust was diverted, but she responded instantly, parrying the follow-up. In that small opening created by blocking Ottar's attack, Bete lunged inside. The two began to assault Ottar together.

The storm-clad silver boots sought desperately to shatter Ottar's defense, while Ais tried to pierce him with her wind-enhanced sword whenever an opening appeared. But Ottar remained as immovable as a mountain. Their attacks slammed into that stony resolve and failed to reach him.

"Ride it!!"

"Lil Rafaga!!"

The "Sword Princess" Ais Wallenstein unleashed her ultimate technique—a massive divine wind intended for large enemies or Floor Bosses—toward Ottar. Bete Loga launched himself like a silver spark, flying straight through the center of the storm that erupted with the sword's flash.

Facing this improvised joint attack by two first-class adventurers—a blow that could likely fell the Floor Boss Udaeus in a single strike—Ottar's eyes widened. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his greatsword. Bete's silver, storm-wrapped boot collided with Ottar's descending blade—

The collision of immense power triggered an explosive shockwave that made the entire labyrinth tremble. The ground, pulverized by the wind, flew into the air as fragments of debris scattered.

"..... You monster."

Bete spoke in awe as he was knocked back to the center of the hall by the recoil of the shock.

"Master Bete?"

"That bastard..... he blocked the attack with nothing but his raw physical strength."

Despite receiving Bete's lethal strike, Ottar's resolve did not waver. They couldn't break the defense of that greatsword. Even with the full assault of Bete and Ais, they hadn't dealt a decisive blow.

The man who had shattered the ultimate skills of two first-class adventurers with pure strength retreated backward like Bete. But despite the damage to his armor and combat clothes, there were no significant wounds on his steel body. He still stood like an unshakeable wall.

Ais held her breath. Bete remained steady, but he couldn't stop clicking his tongue.

"Impressive, Loki Familia."

"I enjoyed that a bit. Next time, I shall begin the attack from my side ──"

Suddenly, Ottar, who had been standing like a deeply rooted tree, took evasive action for the first time. In that instant, a silver light surrounded by purple lightning pierced the Dungeon floor where Ottar had just been standing, creating a deep fissure.

"You avoided that? You're fast for a blockhead."

"── Sword Saint."

The identity of that silver strike was a sword throw accompanied by a thunderbolt. Its power was undeniable; the sword was driven into the Dungeon floor up to its hilt. Ottar had dodged with a quick movement, but had his reaction been a second slower, he would have been impaled.

Ottar knitted his brows at the intruder. A white-haired young man stood there. The youth possessed ominous red eyes that contrasted with his beautiful hair. He carried three one-handed swords at his waist and a greatsword the size of his body on his back.

"Ais, Bete. If you want to go, then go. I'll handle this dullard."

"..... Is this allowed? He's Al's brother, isn't he?"

"It's fine. The outcome is already decided."

The youth—Al—without showing any concern for his brother who was supposedly in mortal danger, drew two ominous blades: one black and one red, from his shoulder and waist. They were the first-class special weapons [Balmung] and [Dainsleif].

This was the style of using a greatsword and a one-handed sword simultaneously—the true essence of Al Cranel, which he hadn't shown even against Revis or the tainted spirits.

Ottar narrowed his eyes as he saw Al brandish his twin demonic blades. A smile played at the corner of his mouth. It was an expression that suggested he was relishing the fight against a powerful opponent.

"Do you think I'll let them pass?"

"Do you think you can stop them?"

In the face of that majesty, Ottar cast aside his greatsword, which had been warped by the Great Wind strike, and drew a crimson greatsword overflowing with power.

The gazes of the two crossed, and their combat wills collided; a peak against a peak in the highest of martial arts.

The two left Ottar to Al and leapt toward the light emitting from the end of the hall. There, a monster waited.

A creature with a bull's head and a human body, much larger than a traditional Minotaur. It held a jagged greatsword in its hand, and one of its horns was twisted grotesquely. But most peculiar was its body.

Its muscles bulged as if meticulously sculpted, coating its body like a suit of metal armor; its limbs looked like blocks of iron.

And before this Minotaur lay a white-haired boy on his back—Bell Cranel.

The two were relieved to hear the boy's ragged breathing, proving he was still alive, but they quickly turned their hostility toward this strange Minotaur armed with an adventurer's sword.

Bete stepped in front of the boy to protect him, while Ais sharpened her slender blade. Behind them, they could feel Bell's irregular breathing.

"I'm going to kick you to death."

"We're going to save you now."

Bete's relief that they had arrived in time transformed into murderous intent, while Ais harbored pure feelings of praise and appreciation in her heart. They prepared to advance toward the raging bull, which did not flinch before the majesty of first-class adventurers.

In that moment, what they saw in their peripheral vision made their eyes go wide.

"..... I won't... give up."

Bell was standing on his feet, forcing his broken body to rise. Without turning toward the two stunned adventurers, he brandished his weapon. He held a knife and a single dagger in his hands.

The right sleeve of his arm holding the bloodied dagger was torn, revealing his white skin beneath. His red eyes looked directly at the Minotaur.

"I can't let anyone save me again."

"If I run away from here, I'll never become anything!!"

It was a painful sight, yet the willpower to stand against hardship and the heart that wouldn't break were the true qualities of a hero.

Before Bell, the Minotaur let out a roar of joy, as if it had found a worthy opponent. The cry echoed like thunder and made the air tremble.

"..... He roared in our faces. Step back, Ais."

"What?"

"Stealing prey is forbidden for adventurers. ── We have no right to spoil that boy's adventure."

The same feeling he had when he heard Bell's declaration earlier resurfaced. Just a boy—a child who wasn't supposed to be a vessel for anything—was now standing with resolve to break his shell. Bete realized this and retreated with an expression completely free of worry, just as Al had done moments ago.

Ais realized it too. This boy... was me not long ago. Casting his weakness aside, betting his soul to reach the level of his aspirations. I cannot interfere, and I should not.

So, let us watch.

The heroic ambition of this solitary boy.
 
Chapter 25 : The Hero’s Desire (Argonaut) ① New
Driven by the raging spirit-winds, the already devastated Dungeon floor transformed into a death trap. The two combatants exchanged firebolts and heavy strikes that far surpassed the intensity of the gales. Had any ordinary person—anyone less than a hero—stepped into this space, the sheer aftershocks of the collision would have crushed the life from them.

This clash of power exceeded the ferocity of a Floor Boss battle.

"──Tch!!"

At the eye of this hurricane stood a massive Boaz with rust-colored hair and eyes, facing a white-haired human with eyes the color of blood. Both radiated the majesty of true heroes. Their clashing blades had escalated into a struggle within the domain of the gods, rendering their previous skirmish mere child's play. It was a struggle for the summit that shook the very earth.

With minimal movement, Al parried the relentless strikes of the crimson greatsword. He felt the murderous intent and hostility radiating from the attacks, reading their trajectories perfectly while finding openings to launch his own counters.

In return, Ottar evaded Al's thrusts by a hair's breadth, watching for any lapse in form to bring the weight of his greatsword down for a finishing blow.

Al caught the edge of Ottar's blade with the tip of the left-hand sword, Balmung, while the tip of his right-hand cursed blade grazed Ottar's midsection. In the moment of momentary stalemate, they moved as one. Ottar swung a full-power cleave while Al responded with a lethal, piercing lunge.

Every movement broke the sound barrier, generating violent shockwaves. Amidst the roar that made space itself groan and shriek, their weapons collided. An instant later, both leaped back to create distance.

Both seethed with battle spirit. They were both Level 7—the highest rank in the world.

Yet the truly terrifying figure was Ottar, the "Warlord." He was the embodiment of mastery, the veteran hero standing atop the new generation, proficient in every secret art and technique. Al withstood Ottar's successive strikes—each one a guaranteed death sentence—through sheer physical resilience and an unyielding spirit, cheating death by the narrowest of margins. In response, Al faced this monster with innate talent and rare combat prowess.

Ottar's current abilities—excluding magic—had reached the "S" rank at 999, the absolute limit. Bolstered by his skills, his raw power certainly surpassed that of the "Greedy" in his prime.

A look of elation appeared on Ottar's face. He smiled, seemingly relishing the fight against a worthy opponent—the portrait of a true warrior.

"How much further will you climb, Sword Saint?"

The words came from the depths of his heart, a mixture of admiration and joy. Not since his battle with the last members of the Zeus Familia seven years ago had he found someone who could match him to this extent.

He knew of successors with talent exceeding his own, such as Allen, but for one who knew what "the strongest" truly meant in the past, he felt the stifling weight of being merely a target for others to chase.

But the hero before him was different. He undoubtedly possessed the vessel required to reach the realm of the "Truly Strongest" that Ottar recognized. Ignoring the pain and the shocks racking his body, Ottar swung his greatsword with everything he had.

Despite Ottar's words, Al's expression did not waver. He continued to sharpen his consciousness in silence, focused solely on eliminating the enemy before him.

The duel—where Ottar held the advantage in strength and endurance while Al excelled in speed and finesse—grew increasingly fierce────

"I was wondering why my thumb was throbbing so much... It seems this matter was included in my intuition as well, wasn't it?"

A voice cut through the greatest battle in the mortal world, coming from the depths of the corridor directly opposite Ottar. The speaker was a handsome Pallum carrying a long golden spear, his blonde hair shining with a mysterious luster.

"Hello, Ottar."

"──Finn, then."

Ottar addressed him with a slight scowl, while Finn replied in a friendly tone that carried a sharp, cold edge. Finn ignored the reaction and continued.

Finn turned his gaze toward Al as well. His eyes held a spark of amusement—the same interest and curiosity he showed toward Ottar.

Soon after, Riveria, Tiona, and Tione appeared, closing in on the two men. Each gripped their weapon, fully prepared for battle. In the sudden silence that seemed to defy the previous roar, the group stood against Ottar with weapons drawn.

Ottar realized that facing four first-class adventurers plus Al was beyond his capacity. He broke his combat stance and exhaled sharply. Seeing his opponent cease hostilities, Al lost interest in the fight as well; his battle spirit vanished without a trace, and he turned to leave.

As Al walked away to join Riveria in treating a young Pallum girl drenched in blood, Finn questioned Ottar.

"I am not privy to the full details of the situation... But may I ask why you chose to confront us here and now, Ottar?"

"It is illogical to choose time and place when it comes to eliminating an enemy."

"That is fair. Should I consider this a consensus of your Familia, or rather, the divine will of your mistress? Does Goddess Freya intend to declare total war against us?"

Al interrupted them:

"It is surely a command from that seduction-obsessed woman, isn't it? I pity you and Allen for being her playthings."

"──No, this was my personal decision."

Finn smiled bitterly at Al's remark. As Ottar stated, he appeared to be acting alone rather than as the captain of the Freya Familia. Nevertheless, the truth remained that the will of his mistress, Goddess Freya, lay behind it all.

"Since you have formed a league together, I have no chance of victory."

"I am glad to hear that. We also have no desire for conflict with you."

As Ottar headed toward the corridor leading to the eighth floor—the way Finn and his companions had entered—he stopped abruptly under Tione's sharp gaze.

"I shall curse this failure that prevented me from settling the matter."

Despite the lightning burns and the blood covering his body, Ottar maintained his dignity and poise. His sharp gaze, cast over his shoulder without fully turning, pierced through Finn and his group.

"I will say this, setting aside my personal inadequacy."

Ottar spoke just as the Minotaur's roar echoed from the end of the corridor behind him.

His voice carried clear anger—a rage at his own helplessness. Ottar wove his words with a powerful will that even Finn and the others felt.

"Break your shell and reject any hand extended to you by others. Face your adventure. Your gaze must look only forward."

"─────And respond to that lady's love."

●○●○●

To hell with this; someone else take my place.

What is this nonsense about "responding to love"?

This principle of goddess-worship is truly dull and disgusting.

Next time, I'll just deliver a lunch Anya made and bring Allen along.

Or perhaps I'll bring Horn while she's using her magic because she's fun to watch. As for the rest of them and their goddess, I have no use for them.

●○●○●

As I bordered on losing consciousness from the relentless pain, my awareness was pulled toward two shadows standing before me. Bete and Ais stood there to protect me—the two people I had always looked up to.

My mind couldn't grasp the situation. Why were they here? Why were they trying to save me? Why... why? ──

They simply stood there without even drawing their weapons. They didn't flinch before the Minotaur's murderous intent. On the contrary, the Minotaur seemed to be the one backing away under the weight of the pressure and majesty they projected.

I looked at them in awe.

Their backs were the embodiment of the heroes I had always dreamed of becoming──

"I'm going to kick you to death."

"I'll save you now."

Hearing those words, the pain coursing through my body vanished. It was like magic, or a miracle. A flood of emotion took hold of me. That back I yearned for was right in front of me, within reach.

This was exactly like that time. A burning heat began to incinerate every trace of fear inside me. Vanity, posturing, courage... it all turned into fuel for the searing emotions filling my being.

I must stand. I must stand and fight.

Will I need help again?

Will I be protected once more?

Will I remain unable to do anything?!

What did I decide to become strong for, then?!

Move, move, move, move, move, move, move, move, move, move, move, move, move, move, move, move, move, move, move, move, move, move, move, move!!!!

Pour your rage into your stiffened body! Breathe life into your heart, shriveled by terror. Rebuke the part of you that tries to complain, and sharpen your resolve.

Kindle the fires of battle.

Gather your courage.

Steel your determination.

If you don't show your pride now, when will you?

If I don't stand here, I will regret it for the rest of my life.

In that moment, my vision cleared completely.

I gritted my teeth, slapped my trembling knees, and regained sensation in my fingertips that had been frozen from within. Then, I dug my heels into the earth and stood firm.

"──I can't... do it."

"I can't let anyone save me anymore."

"If I run away now, I'll never become the person I want to be!!"

As I stood, a mocking grin spread across the Minotaur's face. It advanced toward me, brandishing its greatsword. I stepped forward to meet it. I was afraid—indescribably afraid. Nevertheless, I would not run. I didn't want to run. I would face it. With that resolve in my heart, I fixed my eyes on the Minotaur.

"Let's settle this..!!"

This is my first adventure—the adventure of Bell Cranel.

●○●○●

Riveria and her companions reached the room where Bell and the Minotaur faced off.

Their gazes were fixed on a battle that, for them, was at the lowest level, yet none could look away. The echo of Bell's soul-searing cry rang through the room along with the Minotaur's roar.

He breathed life into his wounded body and faced the monster. Sparks flew as the greatsword collided with the knife. Their attacks flashed back and forth, blood spattering the ground.

Though he was in a position where a single direct hit could kill him, fear had no place in Bell's heart. Combat instinct alone moved his body to eliminate the powerful enemy before him.

Amidst the sharp ringing of metal, and despite the pressure of raw force that stirred the winds with every arm movement, Bell somehow managed to dodge and avoid the lethal strikes.

(Don't be fooled by its size!)

He shattered his fear, gathering his courage to face the beast again and again. Bell, freed from the shackles of terror, no longer knew the word "retreat." He only pressed forward with absolute determination.

Bell evaded the Minotaur's assault and lunged, driving thrusts with his knife. The Minotaur's strength could crush Bell in one blow, and even a slight graze could be fatal.

But that was all.

Bell didn't intend to be hit at all. He read the Minotaur's heavy swing, stepped back at the last second to avoid it, and then circled behind the beast to deliver another strike.

The blade neared the Minotaur's neck, but a strike lacking the power of his hips only caused a minor scratch on the thick hide. Nevertheless, Bell was slowly and steadily wearing the Minotaur down.

The rapid-fire Firebolt magic rang out. It was a "no-chant" magic that could be fired continuously as long as Mind remained, even if a single blast was weak. The direct hits charred and smoked the point of impact, but the Minotaur's incredibly tough body was unfazed by such minor damage.

But that was fine; it was enough to obscure the Minotaur's vision. If he discarded fear and looked calmly, its speed wasn't impossible to read.

(I've fought opponents faster than this many times!!)

His instructor, the "Werewolf," was much faster and stronger than this Minotaur. Compared to Bete, the Minotaur's linear movements were easy to predict.

The Minotaur's attacks were ferocious, but Bell evaded them all at the last second. He pierced through the storm of heavy blows, and what he couldn't evade, he parried with his knife. Despite the numbness in his hand gripping the hilt, he never let go.

"Is he parrying those attacks with a knife..?"

"No, what we should watch is his footwork... Bete, did you teach him that?"

Bete didn't find the time to answer Riveria; he continued to monitor the battle with intense focus. His thoughts were unreadable from his expression. Meanwhile, a change occurred in the Minotaur's movements.

It seemed to have grown wary of Bell. It stopped swinging its sword randomly and began to use sword techniques—crude as they were—focusing on thrusts.

The sword the Minotaur carried was massive and designed for two-handed use. Therefore, despite its reach, it lacked flexibility at close range. This meant that once an opponent got inside its guard, it was at a disadvantage. The Minotaur seemed to realize this and began to attack Bell with increased savagery.

Still, Bell did not flinch. He faced the attacks that could kill him in one hit with composure. He even used the opponent's strength against it at times to land guaranteed hits. However, the gap in basic abilities remained vast, and Bell's energy began to flag.

The strikes grew more precise. Bell began to struggle to evade the blades that pursued him to cut off his escape. Cold sweat poured down him as the edge passed his cheek, searching for a gap in the Minotaur's defense. It was a confrontation on the edge of a precipice, where any minor error meant death.

"He is holding on remarkably well. However.."

"He cannot land a decisive blow."

The fatal difference between them was "attack power." Bell's knife and dagger could not penetrate the Minotaur's thick muscular armor.

In contrast, every one of the Minotaur's attacks was a potential killing blow. Even if the hits didn't land directly, continuing this way would eventually lead to defeat under the mounting pressure.

The Minotaur's strikes caused the floor to rise and crack, sending debris flying like shrapnel against Bell's body.

"Vamoooooooooon!!"

"Tch!!"

Numerous wounds appeared on Bell's body, and his blood scattered. Though his features twisted in pain, he gripped his knife and pierced through the Minotaur's violent assaults. Victory would not be achieved unless he broke the Minotaur's physical superiority as a monster.

"This Minotaur is truly strange."

Riveria, watching the encounter, noted the differences between this one-horned Minotaur and others of its kind. Its use of the greatsword as a sharp tool rather than a mere club was striking, but more important was its extremely high physical capability.

While there are individual differences among monsters spawned by the Dungeon, this Minotaur's potential was so high it seemed like an entirely different species.

"──It's an Enhanced Species."

"Impossible.."

Could the Minotaur that escaped previously have survived and preyed on monsters of the upper floors? No, the rate of enhancement didn't seem to stem from devouring magic stones of weaker opponents; it must have devoured several magic stones from the middle floors of similar rank.

"Firebolt!!"

He extended his right hand and fired the quick-cast magic repeatedly. Under the barrage of firebolts, even this Minotaur was forced to retreat and halt its attack.

"Is he chanting? That magic?"

"No, it's concurrent casting, like Al's lightning bolt."

Fire magic arrows fired in succession. Thanks to this magic, he had miraculously survived situations where death was certain. Without this magic, the result would have been decided long ago.

But Bell was now in a bind. His physical energy had long since passed its limit. One hit, and the journey would end. Even the magic he relied on was beginning to drain his Mind.

Most importantly, Bell's magic...

"Cannot deliver a finishing blow."

This was the flaw of magic that required no chant. While powerful in its rapid firing, its destructive force was far less than standard magic. Although the Minotaur's body had sustained some damage, it was far from having deep wounds.

"Perhaps the power of Al's lightning bolt, which also lacks a chant, was merely a miraculous exception to the rules."

"Has he reached a dead end?"

"I would say it's too early to judge.. but.."

Bell's end was approaching moment by moment. If the fight continued like this, his defeat would soon be certain. In a position where he had to expend all his energy just to defend, it was nearly impossible to transition into a counter-attack leading to an effective strike.

Even if he tried to target the magic stone in its vital spot, the knife's length wasn't enough to reach the stone hidden behind the Minotaur's thick pectoral muscles.

Bell's vision began to narrow, perhaps due to lack of oxygen or the exhaustion of his Mind. He began to fear losing consciousness before the Minotaur's attack crushed him.

As he tried to parry the Minotaur's sword, which fell with a whistle through the air, the monster launched a merciless follow-up attack on the off-balance Bell, shattering the blade of the Basillard.

While Bell stared in shock at the blade flying through the air with a sharp ring, the Minotaur delivered a brutal strike. Evasion was impossible; even a guard was out of reach.

Bell's slender body was thrown across the floor. Blood sprayed from his mouth. Before he had time to feel the pain, the Minotaur's massive form loomed over him.

"He no longer has a weapon."

As Finn said, neither magic nor the knife could deliver a finishing blow to the Minotaur. Bell stood, cradling his shattered left arm and gripping the remains of his dagger—which had lost more than half its blade—looking completely exhausted. There was no longer any chance of victory.

In a scene of utter despair, the Minotaur's greatsword swung down in a straight line toward Bell.

A massive explosion roared, and the earth shook. Sand and debris from the shattered floor filled the air.

Within the dust, as Bell parried that lethal strike using the knife crafted by the God of the Forge─────

A sharp crack echoed: "Bakiiin!"

Under the force of the collision, the large silver sword held by the Minotaur shattered against the small but high-quality black blade. Bell's black knife was sent flying backward. In that instant, both were weaponless.

Bell had lost his only means of attack; the dagger he held had lost most of its blade and would not pierce the Minotaur's muscular armor.

Likewise, the Minotaur had lost its finishing tool. Of course, unlike Bell, its steel-like body was capable of killing a human even unarmed.

But the Minotaur recognized Bell's skill in evasion. Since the opponent had lost his weapon and would not attack, the Minotaur understood that its own unarmed, short-range arms would not be able to catch Bell.

"──Bumoo."

"──Haa, haa."

The fierce struggle reached a stalemate, with both hesitating to attack. To break this deadlock, two weapons flew toward them accompanied by calm words.

"──Use them."

The weapons were a greatsword and a one-handed sword thrown by Al. Both were demonic weapons overflowing with an aura so terrifying that even veteran warriors would hesitate to hold them, yet both combatants caught them without hesitation.

Bell gripped the sword in his left hand, and the Minotaur in its right. They launched at once. Bell moved left, the Minotaur right. Bell directed the cursed sword toward the Minotaur's neck, while the Minotaur aimed the dragon sword at Bell's body. Both swung the borrowed weapons, creating a violent metallic ring.

On one side, the greatsword [Dragon Slayer], forged from the scales of the One-Eyed Black Dragon—the finest in the lower world.

On the other, the cursed weapon that unleashes a horrific strike in exchange for burning its wielder.

The dragon sword and the cursed sword—both at the pinnacle of weapons in the lower world.

Since it was the first time they had held these weapons, they could not manifest their special abilities. However, even without those powers, the two weapons surpassed the legendary swords owned by top adventurers. From here on, defense became impossible.

Having obtained the weapons of a hero, their battle spirits ignited.

The final round of the fight began.

──────────────────────────────────────────────────

Note:

By the way, Al is weak against direct attacks—or rather, when he is in the position of the victim, his moral values become surprisingly normal. He is quite harmless if the opponent is at the level of Apollo or the Amazons.
 
Chapter 26 : The Hero’s Desire (Argonaut) ② New
Bell and the Minotaur lunged forward without a shred of hesitation the moment they seized their heroic weapons. Their speed eclipsed everything that had come before; in a heartbeat, the distance between them vanished entirely.

They moved like reflections in a mirror, striking in perfect unison. Since the Minotaur relied on raw, improvised combat instincts, Bell's swordsmanship appeared equally unrefined. Though designed as a one-handed sword, the crimson cursed blade had been forged specifically for Al when he was Level 6. Consequently, the weapon felt incredibly heavy in Bell's grip. To compensate for his lack of finesse, he poured raw strength into his swings, resulting in a distorted and violent flurry of strikes.

"How clumsy..."

"But he is pressing him."

Despite the lack of grace, Bell's movements matched and eventually overtook the Minotaur's speed. His sheer momentum overwhelmed the beast, even though it had also brandished a new weapon.

"────Dammit!!"

A faint, phosphorescent glow flickered on Bell Cranel's back—the back where the sacred Hieroglyphs were etched. This light had not been seen for four long years.

Al's brief words and the gift he offered during their first reunion in years acted as the spark that reignited the dormant embers in Bell's chest. It was a sensation Bell had not yet fully grasped, but a true flame had settled deep within his heart. Using that fire as fuel, Bell's strength began to surge uncontrollably.

His laconic brother, who had always stood as his protector, had not merely given him a sword; he had armed the Minotaur as well. This act signaled that Al no longer viewed him as a child in need of shielding. He had recognized him as a warrior capable of a fair fight. Bell felt the desperate need to prove his worth and live up to his brother's expectations. He had finally earned the acknowledgment of the one he had always looked up to, and that recognition provided the final push he needed.

───── The Minotaur could never fathom the fire raging within Bell Cranel's soul.

Bell transformed into a crimson hurricane. The Minotaur, trapped within its own desperation, fought back despite its mounting wounds, but every attempt was met with crushing blows and blinding speed. The crimson trail of the sword, swinging wildly in every direction, soon dripped with the Minotaur's blood. As the tide of battle shifted, the beast began to falter. Bell seized the opening, transforming his defense into a relentless assault and raining down one-sided strikes without allowing his foe a moment to breathe.

Holding the "Heroic" weapon he had always admired, the boy's strength could only grow alongside his heroic longing. His tireless attack forced the Minotaur to retreat step by step. Wounds multiplied across its hide, and as its blood splattered the floor, its movements grew sluggish and heavy.

Finally, the Minotaur collapsed to its knees, unable to withstand the ferocity of the assault. As Bell prepared to deliver a merciless finishing blow, a massive fist suddenly entered his peripheral vision. He dodged gracefully, but the sudden shift broke his balance, creating a fatal opening. The Minotaur seized this brief moment of stillness and lunged forward with a desperate cry, pouring every ounce of its remaining strength into the strike.

The beast, which had been trembling at Bell's transformation, let out a roar. Bell remained composed, evading the attack and immediately transitioning into a counter-offensive. He lunged for the monster's exposed belly the moment its strike landed, but the Minotaur sensed the danger at the last second and twisted its body, narrowly avoiding a lethal wound.

Still, it could not escape completely; a torrent of blood erupted from its midsection. As the Minotaur shrieked in agony, Bell continued his pursuit without mercy. He prepared a horizontal cleave, but the Minotaur, wielding the great black sword forged from the remains of the world's strongest monsters, roared with the majesty of a legendary beast.

"Bumoo-oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!"

"Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!"

Their cries intertwined, and their gazes locked with piercing intensity. The Minotaur struck first, hoisting its greatsword and bringing it down with monumental force. In response, Bell charged forward, initiating his own attack. Despite its shock at this decision, the Minotaur poured all its power into the blow to intercept him.

The blades met with a deafening explosion. The Minotaur tried to use the recoil to gain distance, but Bell was faster; he pierced through the beast's defense, and their blades clashed again. This time, the battle shifted from raw power to an exchange of techniques. Each fought with everything they had to bring the other down. Their features twisted—it was impossible to tell if it was from exhaustion or the sheer agony of the struggle.

The stalemate continued as they traded blows. Amidst the accelerating pace of the combat, Bell began to exert more pressure. This was no longer just a test of strength; his superior skill was beginning to show. The meeting of the black and crimson blades created a continuous metallic ring through dozens of successive strikes. Bell's blade tore through the thick hide, while the Minotaur's greatsword whipped through the air, leaving red gashes on Bell's skin. Despite their injuries, neither warrior's spirit flickered.

In the heart of this chaos, the balance finally broke. Bell's sharp thrust pierced the Minotaur's shoulder, sending blood spraying from the wound. Feeling the weight of the successful strike, Bell launched a crushing offensive, shredding the beast's form with a barrage of blows. The Minotaur's massive frame swayed under the weight of the onslaught.

Their roars echoed through the Dungeon.

Bete, Tiona, Tione, Finn, Ais—who was cradling the small PALLUM girl—and Al watched in silence. They stood as close as possible to the spectacle. It was a collision of unyielding wills. In this true battle between a boy and a monster, there was no room for hesitation or leniency. Words were unnecessary; the guttural roars were their only language. No one could look away.

"..... Argonaut."

It was the ancient myth of heroes. The tale woven by a foolish clown who aspired to be a hero. It was the story of the beginning—the story the boy had always admired. It was the tale of a boy named Bell Cranel, who clung to his ambition and challenged fate itself. The story of the boy who faced malice and destiny, persisting to prove his will. The first hero who defeated the thunder bull at the end of his adventure and became the vessel that carried many heroes.

"I used to love that fairytale so much..."

As Tiona watched, she whispered these words, seeing the striking resemblance between the myth and Bell's current struggle. A new page of a heroic epic was being written before their eyes. Bell and the Minotaur had both reached their absolute limits. They were exhausted, their bodies covered in wounds, yet the flame of battle refused to die. They moved for victory alone.

This was the scene the gods had watched since ancient times—a chapter of the legends found everywhere. A life-or-death struggle where every offensive and defensive move drained their remaining strength. The crimson cursed sword and the black greatsword collided repeatedly, sending sparks flying. Crimson flashes from Bell's sword met the sweeping arcs of the Minotaur's blade.

Neither yielded an inch. Finally, the moment of decision arrived. Bell struck with all his might, his blade piercing the Minotaur's belly and tearing through its muscular armor.

"Huff,huff.....Nfuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!"

Feeling the end draw near due to blood loss, the Minotaur let out a roar of mingled agony and rage. It slammed its left hand—the one not holding the sword—into the floor with devastating force. Using its crushed, misshapen hand as an anchor, it dug its claws into the earth and dropped into a low, four-legged stance.

This was the final charge that Bete and the other veteran adventurers had seen many times from Minotaurs when cornered. But this beast, possessing the intelligence of a warrior and a unique weapon, elevated the move into a masterful "Secret Technique."

Their bloodshot eyes met with murderous intent. Bell took a similar offensive stance. He understood the Minotaur's intent, and the beast understood how Bell would move next. They moved at the exact same moment.

The Minotaur lunged with a powerful black strike, while Bell met it with a heavy diagonal swing of his cursed sword. Bell saw the greatsword that threatened to cleave him in two, and the image of the monster grinning as its lips curled. Bell's raw strength was not enough to stop a blow like a battering ram, but his crimson blade sank deep into the Minotaur's shoulder, slowing its momentum slightly.

"FIREBOLT!!"

Bell did not miss the opening. He drove the crimson blade deeper into the Minotaur's left shoulder and, through the sword itself, channeled the explosive Firebolt magic directly into the beast's body. The thick muscles could not contain the internal explosion; they bulged and burst apart.

"FIREBOLTTTT!!"

Explosive flames erupted from the wound, and the Minotaur screamed. Raging crimson fire spilled from its nose and mouth as its massive body was blasted backward.

"Hah, ghe, gah..... Oooooooooooooooooooooooo!!"

But even that was not enough. Despite its burning innards, the Minotaur roared and tried to crush Bell with its powerful, metallic arms—

Before that impact could happen, Bell's body began to burn!!

This was not magic, but the cursed sword in his hand. Activating the abilities of such a weapon usually required long training, but Bell's intense Longing shattered that rule. The sword's name was Lúthr Lavana (Ruin of the Branch), a first-class cursed blade that rivaled Balmung in ill omen. It granted the wielder extreme offensive power in exchange for a curse that scorched their flesh.

Bell delivered a final blow with every ounce of his strength. The strike carved through the Minotaur's majestic body from shoulder to belly, shattering bone and flesh, followed by a finishing cleave.

"FIREBOLTOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

"─────, ───────────!!"

The crimson blade pierced the Minotaur's steel-like hide, tore through the muscle, and lodged firmly in its Magic Stone. Bell cried out as he was showered in the remains of the beast scattered by the final explosion. The bull-warrior vanished completely, leaving only the black greatsword standing in the floor like a gravestone.

In that moment, Bell fell to his knees. His overextended limbs could no longer move. His entire body was covered in severe burns, his skin torn in a gruesome display.

"..... He did it. He won."

"..... Total Mind Down."

"He's... he's unconscious while standing....."

Tione and Tiona trembled as they watched the boy, covered in burns, standing motionless after his final strike. The battle between a simple monster and a simple boy who aspired to be a hero ended with the victory of the one who dared to dream. There was no victory cry, but the boy had certainly climbed a step higher on the ladder of heroism.

No one spoke. Everyone stood in awe of the "Great Feat" they had just witnessed. In that silence, Ais looked toward the back of the unconscious, standing Bell. That back, which had given everything, seemed so small. He had exceeded his limits and defeated a monster far stronger than himself. The "Grace of the Gods" etched on his bloodstained back was visible through his shredded clothes and scorched skin. Since the status was not locked, Ais, who could read the Hieroglyphs, saw that all of Bell's abilities had surpassed S-rank.

Bell Cranel [Level 1]

Strength: SS 1002

Endurance: S 999

Dexterity: SS 1011

Agility: SS 1093

Magic: S 988

"Magic"

[Firebolt] (Rapid-fire, Fire-attribute)

"Skills"

[Longing] ──

A status that had shattered all limits. Unprecedented growth. Ais felt a mixture of admiration and shock. She moved toward the boy but stopped. She remembered that someone else had the right to reach him first. She looked at the young man, Al, who shared her thoughts. He picked up the black greatsword along with Bete and walked slowly toward the boy.

"Dammit... four years and you haven't changed at all. What do I have to do to make you understand?"

A faint, gentle smile touched his face—a look he had never shown Ais or the other members of the Familia. It was a look reminiscent of the one Ais's father used to give her.

Ais returned to the surface with Bete to transport Bell and the young PALLUM girl to the medical ward in the Tower's facilities. Naturally, the task should have fallen to Al, but he had requested it.

"I am no longer necessary in his story.. at least, not right now."

Ais remained in a state of internal conflict following that battle. She had seen a boy chasing the same "Longing" she sought, and how he had smashed through the walls before him. She felt admiration mixed with a tinge of jealousy, especially after witnessing that "Limit Break"—the potential that revealed new heights.

"I too, must become more ──────!!"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Supplemental Settings

[One-Horned Minotaur]: Its level is estimated at the high end of Level 2. It possesses abilities matching monsters of the deep floors and the intelligence of a warrior. Thanks to OTTAR'S training and being bolstered by magic stones, it became an Enhanced Species far surpassing a normal Minotaur, reaching a strength equivalent to Level 3. The drop item after its defeat is the [Black Horn].

[Bell Cranel]: His strength grew thanks to training with instructors who share his combat style and the presence of three distinct motivations (Longing). Bete was chosen as his trainer due to their similarities: dual-dagger usage, high speed, white hair, fire magic, and the thematic link between Argonaut and Yuri.

[Lúthr Lavana] : The sword used by Bell. A first-class "Cursed Weapon." It massively increases offensive power in exchange for the wielder sustaining burn injuries.

[Balmung]: The sword used by the Minotaur. A first-class greatsword with a black blade (though Al uses it one-handed). It was given to Al by ZEUS via HERMES after he reached Level 6. Forged from the scales of the [One-Eyed Black Dragon], it is particularly effective against dragons and black monsters.
 
Chapter 27 : Someday, Surely... New
"Bell is truly strong..."

"Didn't that Minotaur practically reach Level 3 already?"

"Was he that powerful from the beginning? And why is he apprenticing under Bete anyway?"

"It would make sense if it were Ais or Ryuu, but Bete? They have nothing in common, and their personalities clash terribly."

"In the end, Bell won, and that is what matters... Perhaps I should have handed him the weapon from the start instead of feigning indifference. But no—I feel that would have changed something essential. As long as it ended well, it's fine."

"That boy, thanks to old Zeus's upbringing, is the type of hero who rises no matter how shattered his spirit becomes. He is difficult for me to deal with because I can never truly break his resolve..."

"Regardless, if I leave him to Ais and Bete, I won't have to interact with him much. It doesn't matter."

"We are nearing the 59th floor. The battle against the Corrupted Spirit is close. Was our previous encounter merely a failed prototype? I wonder how powerful the original truly is."

"If Revis brings her along, she might finally grant me the death I crave."

●○●○●

The air, thick with stagnant humidity and a foul, bestial stench, formed a heavy shroud over the area.

If one listened closely, the echoes of murky water and the heavy breathing of monsters resonated through the gloom, sounding like predators licking their maws in anticipation of a kill. Long, twisted, yellowish-green bodies resembling giant serpents dominated the view. Elongated necks extended from thick, scaled torsos, ending in mouths that bloomed like vibrant but lethally poisonous flowers. The number of caterpillar-like monsters crawling nearby was ten times greater than could be counted.

The floor was carpeted in pulsating green flesh that emitted a nauseating scent of rot. This alien environment triggered an instinctive revulsion, blending the stench of death with the odor of decay.

From the reddish-purple petals blooming amidst the yellowish flesh walls, a viscous, honey-like liquid flowed. The scene mimicked carnivorous plants that lure prey with floral scents only to devour them. Organs resembling warts or suckers sat at the tips of countless tentacles, moving as if possessed by a private will. These tentacles, glistening with slime, swayed slowly in search of prey.

Every time the wet sound of tearing flesh echoed, the slime-stained tentacles thrashed violently, and the petals flashed mysteriously. Then, the damp sound of something being dragged across the ground returned.

It was a grotesque sight, far removed from any Dungeon floor known to adventurers—a true nightmare. In the center of this aberration stood a beautiful woman with a slender, well-defined figure.

She had striking short red hair and symmetrical features currently set in a look of annoyance. Her deep green eyes resembled a dense forest. She was tall, with a narrow waist and a firm chest that traced distinct feminine curves.

She wore revealing combat attire made of a thin fabric that clung to her skin. She lacked any leather armor, suggesting a reliance on pure agility. Yet, the garment could not hide her polished physique; instead, the thin cloth lent her an air of unintended seduction. Revis knit her brows in clear irritation.

Amidst the shrieks of dying monsters, Revis's slender, pale fingers picked up dark purple fragments mixed with ash and placed them in her mouth.

At that moment, the larval monsters surrounding her moved in unison. With strange cries, they vanished like a receding tsunami. Once the swarms were gone, a black shadow appeared at the edge of her vision.

"What are you doing?"

"Ein──can't you tell? I'm eating."

The figure was diminutive, clad in a dark cloak that completely obscured its body. It spoke with an eerie voice that sounded like several overlapping tones, while two red dots glowed mysteriously from beneath the hood.

Revis scowled at the voice, which made it impossible to discern the speaker's gender, and snorted before answering.

The ground where they stood was covered in mounds of ash. Amidst the debris lay glowing purple shards. Revis did not collect these Magic Stones—the cores of the monsters she slaughtered—for wealth, but solely for sustenance to increase her power as a "Creature."

"The Loki Familia has already headed toward the deep floors."

The figure called Ein spoke with a tone of dissatisfaction toward Revis, who continued her work silently and without enjoyment. The sharpened edge of the voice betrayed a clear underlying rage.

"Swift as always... Well, I have received the cursed weapon and the specialized magic items for the Sword Saint from the King of Death's follower. There is no need to delay any longer."

Revis, a "Monster" possessing the traits of an enhanced species who grew indefinitely by devouring Magic Stones, did nothing but prepare for battle. She spoke coldly, indifferent to the anger in Ein'S voice.

"Do you intend to sacrifice that many clones at once?!"

"What is the point of breeding them otherwise? I kept the special jewels of six individuals, so there is no issue."

"And you—don't tell me you can't fight the Sword Saint. She is the greatest obstacle. She might even kill the Magic Dragon, which is your trump card."

"──Damn it, I know that!!"

Ein raised his voice in frustration at Revis's biting words. Revis turned her back on Ein and began walking toward the depths of the hall.

She moved away from the green wall that continued to spit out man-eating flower monsters one by one, stopping before a gap in the fleshy wall. The area resembled a Floor Boss room. Massive fleshy lumps and a staggering amount of Magic Stones filled the chamber. In the center stood what looked like an altar, supported by pillars of reddish-purple flesh.

In the heart of those pillars, which throbbed like a human heart, a greatsword was embedded. The blade was stained with a profound blackness that suggested an ominous power, and it was strangely twisted.

What dripped from it was not blood—but viscous black droplets. These drops fell continuously as if they were a living entity with a will of its own. Revis drew the greatsword with a cold gaze.

At that moment, the surrounding walls trembled. Flesh rose from the ground, and countless tentacles erupted. The agitated green flesh surged toward Revis.

She surrendered without resistance as the tentacles coiled around her limbs. There was no pain from the pressure. The tentacles began to harden gradually until they covered her entire body like armor.

It was a suit of green flesh armor blessed by the Corrupted Spirit. Clad in it, Revis looked like a beast emerged from the abyss. As soon as the binding tentacles released her, a section of the wall split open to reveal a new passage. Revis stepped forward.

"I will kill the Sword Saint on the 59th floor."

●○●○●

On the 50th floor of the deep Dungeon, at a ridge far from the temporary tents of the base camp, Bete stood at the edge of a massive, solid rock, staring silently into the Great Fall.

"What do you want, Ais?"

His amber eyes were fixed on the vast cavity stretching below. At the end of his gaze, hordes of monsters undoubtedly swarmed. One could not fathom the number of creatures lurking within the holes riddling the walls.

Ais, having approached from behind, stood beside Bete. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

She was a beautiful girl. Her flowing golden hair shimmered in the reflected light, and her skin was a translucent white. She wore light, predominantly white armor with a skirt-like garment. Two swords hung at her waist; both were clearly first-class weapons.

A warrior capable of standing beside Al. This was Bete's true assessment of Ais. While there were those currently stronger than her, like Finn and Gareth, her obsession with strength was closer to AL's than theirs—or even Bete's own.

"What are you looking at?"

"It's obvious. The nest of the filthy monsters we're raiding tomorrow."

"Bete, why did you take Al's brother as your apprentice?"

This was the question she had asked days ago, before the battle between Bell and the Minotaur, and had received no answer. The image of that boy, who had surpassed the limits of adventure, remained etched in Ais's mind.

"──There's no grand reason. He had no talent, but I thought he might grow. That's all."

"No talent?"

That couldn't be right. His victory against a Minotaur that far outclassed him, and those limit-breaking stats—such things were unattainable without talent rivaling his brother Al.

"It's a matter of personality and technique, though his compatibility with the Blessing seems good. That boy is different from you and me; he wasn't meant to be a warrior... or so I thought."

"But that boy exceeded my expectations. He shattered his shell."

His amber eyes held a fierce resolve—he could not afford to lose to his own student.

●○●○●

The sound of air being sliced echoed as a massive silver sword swung. The blade moved with incredible force, kicking up sand from the ground. A girl in dancer-like combat gear that revealed her tanned skin swung a greatsword as long as she was tall.

Her swordsmanship relied more on overflowing power than technical finesse. Yet, her strikes were so heavy and fast they could shatter an opponent's weapon along with their body.

"Mmm, without the Dual Greatswords, I don't really feel like myself~"

Excitement was evident on Tiona's face as she swung her new weapon, "Blade Roland." It possessed the "Unbreakable" attribute, specifically prepared to face the larval monsters whose acidic fluids could melt even adamantite.

Tiona swung the sword in every direction with a speed that left afterimages, seemingly unfazed by the weight of a weapon taller than herself. Her tanned body glowed with heat, and steam seemed to rise from her skin.

"──Go to sleep soon. The raid is tomorrow."

"Oh, Al!"

The tall young man who approached the exhausted Tiona spoke with a tone of mild surprise. He was handsome, with delicate features, snow-white hair, and sharp eyes that he narrowed as if sleepy.

Seeing him, Tiona beamed and ran toward him. Though she was older than Al, she acted like a younger sister doting on an older brother.

"But I can't stay still! I feel like my body is all tense and wired up."

Tiona was friendly with everyone, but she made a special effort to be close to Al. Unlike other Amazons, Al felt no predatory threat from her, so he didn't treat her coldly. He let out a soft sigh and replied to the girl who had clung to his back.

"──You mean, Bell?"

"Yes!!"

Tiona nodded vigorously, a happy smile plastered on her face.

"He was exactly like you, Al, when you fought that baby dragon even though you knew it was way stronger than you!"

While Al wore an indescribable expression, as if he had swallowed something bitter, Tiona smiled with flushed cheeks, looking up at the ceiling of the great cavern.

"Tell me, do you still have no desire to be a hero, Al?"

Suddenly, her usual playfulness vanished, replaced by a quiet, still expression no one else in the Familia had ever seen. It was a look tinged with melancholy, revealing a hidden sorrow deep in her heart.

"Yes. I have no desire to be a hero, and I don't think I'm capable of being a clown like Argonaut."

"I see..."

The moment passed quickly. She soon regained her usual smile. Al said nothing, silently staring ahead. Then Tiona grinned broadly and stood beside him.

"──Someday. Someday, surely."

"Just like you made me live a life that feels like the hero stories I dreamed of... I'll make you laugh, Al. I promise."

──────────────────────────────────────────────────

Notes:

Al's marketing title is: Argonaut Alter.

The clown who cannot be a hero and thus produces comedy → ARGONAUT.

The clown who cannot produce a tragedy and can only be a hero → Al.

Tiona (despite the negative stigma of being an Amazon) is someone Al deems worthy of spending time with, even without needing to stir up his sorrows.

Since Al is the type who enjoys frustrating others based on their backgrounds, Riviera—whose past he doesn't know well—is in a safe position where she is difficult to target.
 
Chapter 28 : The Spiri New
The gathering of the gods───── the "Denatus," an assembly held once every three months.

Attendance is mandatory for any "Primary God" who leads a Familia with members at Level 2 or higher. In this forum, the deities discuss everything from trivial gossip to matters critical to the administration of Orario.

After concluding reports regarding the Soma Familia, the Kingdom of Rakia, and Loki's findings on the "Irregular Monsters," the ceremony for bestowing titles upon recently leveled-up adventurers began.

"Very well, let Mikoto-chan's title be—Absolute Shadow."

"No objections!!"

"Are you kidding me?! Is this a joke to you?!"

To the inhabitants of the Lower World, whose artistic sensibilities remained underdeveloped, such a title might seem like a great honor. However, to the omniscient yet eccentric gods, it was nothing but a concentrated dose of adolescent cringe that triggered fits of laughter. Driven by whims and a love for pranks, the gods often saddled followers of small and medium Familias with titles like "Gorgeous Tail Beauty" or *"Holy Dragon Knight of the Dawn"—*names so embarrassing they made listeners shudder.

"Let's return to the main event. The next adventurer is... the star of the show! My little Ais-tan!!"

"It's time for the Sword Princess!!"

"As usual, the Princess is breathtaking."

"Wait, did you say she already reached Level 6?"

"This girl has committed yet another act of absolute madness."

"She defeated a Floor Boss solo... That's insane! She isn't normal!!"

"Would you dare say that to Ottar-san or Al-kun, who go on solo expeditions constantly?"

"Can't we just leave Ais-tan's title as it is?"

"Fine. The final choice is undoubtedly—The Gods' Bride."

"Yes!!"

"I will kill all of you."

"We are deeply sorry!!"

"Good heavens, you should pick your battles more carefully before picking a fight... Anyway, this is the last file."

The final file contained the data of a white-haired human who had leveled up just moments before the meeting.

Bell Cranel Familia: Hestia Familia Race: Human Deepest Floor Reached: 10th Floor Main Weapon: Knife, Dagger Time Elapsed: Approximately one month Monster Kill Count: 5,899

[Reason for Level Up] Engaged in a battle on the 10th floor against a Minotaur—believed to be an enhanced species—that appeared suddenly in the upper floors (hereafter referred to as the One-Horned Minotaur). Despite suffering severe burns across his entire body, fractures, and deep lacerations, he managed to defeat it single-handedly. Furthermore, prior to his level up, he conducted a solo exploration of—

"Is it a Cranel again?!"

The gods shouted upon seeing the record of this human following in the footsteps of his brother, the "Sword Saint" Al Cranel, whom the gods often called "The Essence of the Lower World's Potential."

"Wait, what's going on? Is this some kind of superhuman bloodline?"

"Oh, but he looks so adorable, unlike the Sword Demon."

"He was the Sword Demon before, but even as the Sword Saint, he has a handsome face."

"Let his title be—The Beheading Rabbit!!"

"Or the City's Cutest Creature!!"

"Or the Monster's Brother!!"

Since the undeniable facts supported his insane leveling speed, no one suspected forgery. The gods began tossing out titles as they pleased.

"By the way, Loki, a rumor has been circulating for a while that the Braver—no, the 'Varg'—in your faction took an apprentice. Doesn't this boy's description match that disciple?"

Amidst the divine clamor, a beautiful and serene goddess with long brown hair spoke. This was Demeter, the primary goddess of the Demeter Familia, which handled the bulk of Orario's food production.

"That's right. Wasn't it a human boy who looked like a rabbit? It really does look like him."

"Even their fighting styles seem similar."

Hermes, the god who resembled a reckless wandering poet, and Dionysus, who looked like a decadent noble, were the first to respond.

"What? Even if he is Al's brother, there is no way Bete would take an apprentice... No way... that... could..."

Loki suddenly recalled images of Bete buying massive quantities of low-level healing potions—which were useless at his own level—and how he frequently went out on his days off.

"..... Could it be?"

Loki, known as the goddess of trickery and cunning, realized the possibility was very high.

"What's the word, Shorty? My Bete doesn't reveal much about his private life."

"... Yes, Bell-kun is receiving training from that wolf-man in your Familia."

"Really?! The Tsundere Wolf took a disciple? This is hilarious!!"

The gods erupted in excitement at the words of Hestia, the boy's goddess, as they mocked Bete Loga, describing him as a "grumbler who hides his soft feelings."

"Guys, seriously, what are we doing about his title?"

After the noise died down, they returned to the discussion. The boy's background as the brother of the Sword Saint and the disciple of the Wolf made the choice difficult, until Demeter settled the matter.

"How about—The Wolf Rabbit?"

"That's the one!!"

●○●○●

On the 59th floor, the expedition resumed its goal of reaching undiscovered territory—areas only the Zeus Familia, the strongest of the previous generation, had ever reached. The team crossed the "Dragon's Vase" with ease, crushing the "Cannon Dragons" along the way. These monsters launched long-range bombardments that transcended floor boundaries and were considered more annoying than some Floor Bosses.

After descending the stairs from the 58th floor, the Loki Familia advanced into the unknown region of the 59th floor.

According to the records left by the Zeus Familia, the area beyond the 59th floor was the "Glacial Territory," a frozen hell where all life solidified in an instant. Even first-class adventurers risked freezing to death in the extreme cold.

However, as the current pinnacle of Orario's military strength stepped into this unknown region───── they did not find a frozen wasteland. Instead, they found a dense jungle.

There was no trace of ice mountains or frozen rivers. Instead, thick, gnarled trees spread everywhere. This forest grew more complex and bizarre the deeper they went, resembling a labyrinth that shifted its paths to lure intruders into its depths.

Toxic-colored fungi and garishly bright flowers never before seen in the Dungeon grew there. A thick mist hung in the air, obscuring vision. Suddenly, even the traces of monsters vanished.

"A dense forest...?"

"The accounts left by the Zeus Familia stated that the 59th floor and beyond was the Glacial Territory..."

"Yes. They described it as a world of death and absolute ice, where glacial lake waters flow everywhere, making progress difficult and the cold so intense it freezes even first-class adventurers."

Finn answered Tiona's mutterings, and Riveria continued the explanation. The rest of the members exchanged looks of confusion and anxiety.

Towering trees and plant clusters emitted suspicious, vivid colors. The smell of thick greenery and herbal stench teased their nostrils, and a sticky air clung to their skin, irritating their throats.

No one could hide their bewilderment at this environment, which had transformed completely from what they expected. Thick moss covered the ground, and a sweet, sickly scent of rotting fruit wafted between the crowded trees.

Countless buds hung from the green canopy, appearing as if they might bloom at any second. It was a scene that suggested something was about to be born.

"Isn't this similar to what we saw on the 24th floor...?"

Lefiya whispered as she gazed at the familiar sight. The vast space gave off a suffocating feeling, as if they were inside the body of a giant living organism.

Inside the great cavity, massive trees with strange shapes stood tall, and the moss rooted in the ground emitted a faint light. Ivy, tangled like leaf veins, stretched along the walls, ending in toxic-colored flowers.

Since arriving on this floor, they had not sensed any other living beings. A dense forest shrouded in dead silence, as if they had been left alone in this world.

Facing a scene identical to the "Flower Seedlings" on the 24th floor, a vague anxiety gripped everyone. At that moment, Raul, who was looking around cautiously, shouted.

"There's a sound..."

The sound coming from the depths of the forest was bizarre—a mixture of agonizing screams and chewing noises. An echo like sharp cries grew steadily louder.

"Advance."

Finn spoke this single word in response to the gazes of his subordinates. Following the commander's order, everyone began to move at once, delving into that desolate forest devoid of any heartbeat.

They marched for some time, maintaining maximum alert for any emergency in this transformed floor. What stretched before them at the end of the forest was a strange sight like nothing they had ever seen.

Unlike the forest of tangled trees, this place looked as if they had broken into the body of a colossal creature. Giant trees with thick trunks clustered together to form a massive tower.

Between these giant trees, vast quantities of vines intertwined, their ends stretching in every direction, forming a labyrinthine corridor.

This giant wooden hallway was so long that its end was invisible. As the team pushed deeper, driven by those strange sounds, their eyes fell upon a faint light shimmering amidst the darkness.

".... What is that?"

Tiona muttered in shock as she looked at the scene that opened before them in a wide plaza in the center of the forest. In those gray wastes, a massive number of Irregular Monsters were scattered. And amidst a sea of ash left by dead monsters, colossal entities stood tall.

Four entities with female bodies─────

One possessed the lower half of a giant plant.

The second had the body of a massive, distorted, and malevolent moth.

The third possessed a lower body that was a hybrid of a praying mantis and an ant.

The fourth had a hideous body that could only be described as a tower of flesh mounds.

"They are Jewel-type entities with female bodies."

"The monsters used as hosts are... Titan Arum, Tyrant Moth, Vermin Eater, and Flesh Worm..."

Beside Gareth, who was knitting his brows, Riveria recited the names of the monsters one by one—all of them fierce creatures that inhabit the deep floors.

Their bodies were decorated with glowing green veins that resembled leaves, like the rest of the forest, and their heads featured organs like flower petals. The flowers on their heads were a toxic purple, with tentacles ending in fang-like protrusions that moved suspiciously.

The Irregular Monsters surrounding them were offering their Magic Stones as sacrifices, which were being swallowed one by one into the mouths of the female entities.

"Could they have been devouring all those monsters?"

"You've got to be kidding me. Are there four of them?!"

Bete spat these words out. He had prior experience fighting the "Corrupted Spirit" in the food pantry on the 24th floor. Even the entity the red-haired monster described as a "failure" was a beast that rivaled the Floor Bosses of the deep levels.

Faced with the reality that there were three other entities matching that monster, Lefiya's face turned pale. What if these four entities were the "successful versions"?

The moment Ais, Bete, and Lefiya—who knew the Corrupted Spirit—thought of this, the change occurred.

The veins visible on the surface of the buds began to throb and contract repeatedly, and soon, massive wings emerged from within. As those insect-like wings quivered, the countless vines extending from the giant flowers twisted and intertwined to form a massive cocoon. Then, the cocoon split open, like a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis.

What appeared from inside was a human form. The upper body of an exquisitely beautiful woman—hard to imagine emerging from those hideous buds—and she was nude.

Her skin was also covered in green and purple veins, and from the waist down, her body was composed of plant veins. It looked as if the intertwined vines and flowers had united to form a single living being—a strange and suspicious sight.

In the center of the four petals, the face of a woman was smiling seductively. This woman, with green skin and long black hair fluttering in the air, stuck out her long tongue to lick her wet lips. Instead of hands, her arms were covered in thin green leaves, caressing the air as if inviting others to approach.

"Ahhhhh!"

While everyone lost the ability to speak before this distorted yet beautiful entity, the first cry let out by the four twins emerging from the buds was a cry of joy, carrying a sweet resonance that suggested intoxication with pleasure. The coiling vines began to tighten around those newborn bodies, as hideous flowers resembling dresses bloomed.

Thump-Thump!

The air shook with powerful pulses. Those beautiful and distorted beings spread their arms, trembling with joy, and lifted their heads toward the sky to let out a sharp cry.

It was the cry of birth, and at the same time, a prayer to celebrate that birth. As those cries echoed through the forest of giant trees, the world began to labor.

The massive noise that shook the world was no longer just a scream; it became music. Tones that distracted the mind and drove the listener to madness—melodies from a foreign world that shook the soul to the core.

"A [Ari, A] ri 'Aria, Aria' Aari «Aria,» A!!"

"The Spirit...!!"

"The Spirit.....?! Is that disgusting thing a Spirit?"

Hearing Ais's words, Tiona, who had not gone to the 24th floor, shouted as she looked at the entity before her.

That toxic and incredibly beautiful appearance resembled a demon from the world of nightmares. Faced with a being more ominous than those monsters with animal lower bodies, Raul pressed his hand over his mouth, trying to suppress the urge to vomit.

The lower part of the Spirit was composed of vines, and on its back was a pair of wings. Those wings were massive, and their shape resembled leaf veins more than insect wings.

An appearance that blended the sacred and the demonic, giving everyone who saw it a sense of primal disgust.

"Aria, Aria!!"

"They" continued to smile and call out to a single girl.

"We wanted to meet you. We have met again!!"

".....!!"

"You too—come and unite with us!!"

"Will you let us... eat you?"

──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

[ Q&A Corner ]

Q: I want to be like my older brother. What should I do to be like him? — White Rabbit wishing to remain anonymous

A: Don't do it. I beg of you, do not try to be like him.
 
Chapter 29 : The Incarnation of the Spirit New
The Spirits—the race closest to the divine, and the most cherished children of the gods.

In "Ancient Times," before the gods descended to the Lower World, Spirits served as guides for humanity. The Creator Gods willed these Spirits into the world to assist mortals, specifically heroes, leading them with their miraculous powers.

They were the hero's sword, his shield, and his loyal companion.

Spirits have always occupied a central place in epic poems and legends. In those ancient days, a Spirit's protection held the same value as a "Divine Blessing" does today. In that age of myth, Spirits witnessed the heroes' battles firsthand, fought by their side, and lived and died with them.

The heroes who faced the Great Chasm in the land of ancient Orario relied on these powers to seal that abyssal rift, which ceaselessly spawned monsters and swallowed countless souls.

The "Holy Labyrinth Myth" passed down through generations is not merely a tale; it is a record of historical truth. Together with the heroes, the Spirits searched for a way to seal the Great Chasm while battling the fierce monsters of the Dungeon.

However, the nature of those Spirits who were devoured by monsters within the Dungeon has completely twisted. They have transformed into abominations driven by dark desires, now standing as obstacles before the heroes of this modern age.

"Will you let us... eat you?"

The monstrosity stepped toward Ais, its lips curled into a disturbing, crescent-shaped smile. Gazing into the madness within those eyes, Lefiya let out a terrified scream. Responding to the Spirit's will, the larval monsters and man-eating flowers shifted their target toward Ais and her companions, surging forward like a violent tsunami.

At that same moment, a wall of green flesh sealed the floor's exit. With their retreat cut off, Ais's comrades had no choice but to take up a battle stance.

"Prepare the Spirit Amulets!! Riveria, Lefiya, cast the barrier!!"

Finn's command rang out faster than anything else, forcing everyone to regroup with a speed that left no room for hesitation. Bete and the others immediately responded to their leader's stern voice, taking their positions at the front lines, while Riveria and Lefiya stood behind them, beginning their incantations for the Spirit's attack.

Based on the battle reports from the 24th floor, and through his extraordinary insight and long experience as a seasoned adventurer, Finn had devised a way to counter the Corrupted Spirit.

To face a Corrupted Spirit that unleashed a continuous barrage of multi-elemental artillery magic, Finn believed the solution lay in utilizing the power of Spirits as well. In Orario, there are amulets derived from Spirit powers, such as the "Salamander Wool" protective robes.

Anticipating a confrontation with Spirits, Finn had equipped every member of the team, including the supporters, with amulets for all elements to prepare for any magical assault. The experience gathered from countless adventures proved more valuable than mere physical strength.

As an "Adventurer" seeking the "Unknown," no one surpassed Finn Deimne, known as "The Braver," in shrewdness—not even among the strongest in Orario, the Sword Saint included.

Indeed, Finn's plan had no flaws.

In reality, the current strength of the Loki Familia, even without Al, was capable of subduing a single Corrupted Spirit with a difficulty no greater than fighting a deep-floor Boss. However, there was one factor Finn did not know.

Amidst a massive onslaught of over a hundred larval monsters and man-eating flowers, the adventurers gripped their unbreakable weapons to face the surging wave.

"I don't care what they usually do—I'll exterminate them all!!"

Bete roared, cutting down the Irregular Monsters in a whirlwind of slashing strikes, and Tiona and the others followed his lead.

Ais, shaking off her confusion, swung her slender sword to bisect the charging flowers with swift, flashing blows. Without giving the monsters a chance to let out a death rattle, she stepped over the remains of the fallen flowers, dodging the larvae's corrosive fluid to slice them apart in a single motion.

"Raul, support Ais and the others with the Magic Swords!!"

"U-Understood!!"

Responding to Finn's orders, Raul and his team launched an immediate magical bombardment using Magic Swords to clear out the larvae, providing cover for Ais and Tiona as they harvested the lives of the man-eating flowers one by one.

As the soldiers fell, the roots of the giant tree began to writhe like serpents. Those roots lunged at Ais and her companions as they hacked through the monster debris. Ais jumped to evade the whip-like roots, which then split at their tips to attack Gareth, though he severed them with a single strike from his giant axe.

The tentacles of the four female lower bodies lashed out at Ais and her team, only to be intercepted by Tiona and Tione.

"They're heavy!!!!"

They received a barrage of tentacle strikes possessing speed and destructive power far exceeding those of deep-floor Bosses. Despite the shock, which surpassed even the impact of Udaeus's spikes and made their features contort in pain, they managed to hold them back. The volley of tentacles struck the ground over a hundred meters away, kicking up a thick cloud of dust.

"Al, stay where you are."

"Finn."

Finn gave his order to Al, who was about to follow Tiona and the others. Finn tried to hide the signs of pain coming from the intense throbbing in his right thumb. The Braver's features looked strained with concern, as if his mask was about to crack.

"The throbbing in my thumb won't stop... Is it possible... does such power truly exist...?"

"[O flames, come to me───]"

A crimson magic circle began to glow beneath the lower part of the magical tree. The magical output emanating from it was so immense it defied precedent. Facing that explosive radiance, Finn felt a shiver run through his entire body.

"[──── Via Shilheim]!!"

At that moment, Riveria and Lefiya finished their incantations. Orario's strongest mage, "Nine Hell" Riveria Ljos Alf, drew a double defensive barrier. Emerald magic circles spread to form a protective dome—the absolute emerald barrier that repels both physical and magical attacks.

Enhanced by the Spirit Amulets, this defense should have been more than enough to withstand a bombardment from extremely long incantations.

Again, Finn's plan had no flaws.

But the terrifying part was the resolve of that red-haired monster who had sworn herself to extermination, sacrificing everything for that goal.

[O swirling inferno, O wall of hell, O great roar of flames, O power of the cyclone][O glimmer of black steel, O retreat of the stars by the covenant of creation][Freeze like the barren earth, O hail of blades][O aurora sky, O Demon King who dwells on high][Lunge, spear of thunder—I am the bearer of the Thunder Spirit's name, the incarnation of the lightning, the Queen of Thunder][Blaze and seal the world, burning sky, scorched earth, flaming sea, boiling spring, burning mountain, melting life][O lunar gravity that robs the sun's radiance, O power of the stars][O endless night, come, eternal darkness][Overturn and burn the sky, shatter the earth, and build a bridge between the dust and the heavens][By the degrees of dawn and billions of wails, here is the blizzard][O stars coiling in a spiral of light, shine forth][O crimson fields, be enraged, be enraged, be enraged, be enraged][O fate of thunder, let your name echo here to annihilate all existence and turn it to scattered dust][O sea, O land, O air, and all forms of life][O burning horizon, O peaks of the frozen pole, O melting sun, O sunset drowning in the ocean][O journey of wandering, roam forever and fall like brilliant meteors from the holes in the sky][O silver of storms, O ice of silence, dance, strike, and tear souls to be an offering for heroes][Twist, twist, twist, twist, twist, twist, O kindling of the wastes, O anthem of heroes, here is the great power of the earth][Become the brilliance that cleaves the sky, O power of the solar disk][Shatter the pitch darkness and pour burning light upon the world][Reduce all to scorched earth and launch projectiles of rage and wailing as the price for the life of my beloved hero][Become the falling axe of heaven and the catastrophe of destruction][Seal the heavens and the earth, O age of sorrows, and stop to freeze existence with your melodies][Become the echoing mask of dawn in the song of love][Red wings are the pulses of dusk cleaving the night sky, the blue sea, and the rippling silver sword][The unfinished dream is shrouded by eternal night, the dream of fighting beside the beloved hero][Open the gates and birth new hope, ring the bell of the end, and leave no enemy of ours in this place unconsumed][O paradise, O distant lands, O land of serenity, O home where no return is permitted][O black clouds, rain, tears, cyclone, hammer of thunder, and drop of the ocean][O veil of night, O shroud of gloom, dawn shall not come—consume the darkness, O abyss, O chaos, O void, O hell, O world of death, my loyal friend][O flame, O fire, O crimson, O inferno, O fangs of burning, O blade of wrath, burn the sky and shatter the earth][O embrace of light, pulse of the stars, eyes of crimson, and hair of gold—O heroes sleeping forever across the ages][I am the bearer of the Thunder Spirit's name, the incarnation of the lightning, the Queen of Thunder][Blaze and seal the world, burning sky, scorched earth, flaming sea, boiling spring, burning mountain, melting life][O hammer of the earthquake and bow of lightning, launch the thunder hammer and swallow the light, O stars, O arrows of light, O storm and thunder clouds][Dance in the moonlit night, O star particles, dusk of night, and colors of crimson, gold, and pure white—roam and circle, O towers of heaven, O moment of beginning, O age of eternity, and the circle of reincarnation]

The Spirit's song continued even after the string quartet of spells ended; it was a sequence of songs emanating from that multi-mouthed monstrosity.

A tsunami of fire, destructive rocky planets, glacial rifts, a roar of light, dark lightning, solar swords, black explosions, mighty thunder waves, brilliant shocks, and massive detonations—all turned into a world-burning hell and overwhelming glacial waves coiling like a single giant organism, pouring down without pause.

It was total destruction akin to a great natural disaster.

Magic on an unprecedented scale, the manifestation of miracles, and supreme mysteries were unleashed against only a dozen or so people. The Loki Familia should have been annihilated without resistance───── but that did not happen.

Finn Deimne's plan had no flaws; he had realized that the only "Natural Enemy" to this fierce monstrosity known as the Corrupted Spirit stood among his ranks.

That natural enemy was────

"[O elegy of the fairies, and the remaining ash of the fallen. Dwell within me, O authority of the flame, O ruler of the skies. Transform my body into a bird of fire──────── [Lia Phoenix]"
 
Chapter 30 : Hero Killer New
In a certain tavern in Orario—one that breathed an air of mystery and a history predating the "Dark Ages"—those bearing the scars of the past or living in the shadows gathered. This establishment served as a venue for clandestine meetings and orchestrated coincidences, a headquarters for bounty hunters and assassins to strike their deals.

Amidst this grim atmosphere, three figures stood out as strangers to the common room: a woman of cold beauty with blue hair, a golden-haired god dressed as a traveler, and a hooded figure in black who concealed his features like a mysterious sorcerer.

"So, what is the news, Asfi?"

"—The presence of believers, thought to be remnants of 'Evilous,' has indeed been confirmed in that desert-bordering city over the past six months."

The speakers in this private room were Asfi Al ANDROMEDA, known as "The Multi-Talented" and captain of the Hermes Familia; her deity, Hermes; and Fels, the sorcerer who served as the right hand to Uranus, the Guild's founder.

"The Black Desert of Dedan, then—"

Fels understood the symbolism of that land perfectly, yet he failed to grasp why the remnants of Evilous would take an interest in it after all this time.

"Why that barren wasteland specifically? There seems to be no reason echoing the Great Conflict from seven years ago."

"The remains of the King of the Sea still function as a seal for the Leviathan and a cover for Lake Lulugh to this day."

Hermes ignored their confusion and began discussing a seemingly unrelated topic, but his next words shook the two experts in "Secrets" standing before him.

"—So, what about the King of the Land?"

"Where do you think the remains of that great beast rest now?"

●○●○●

Amidst the storm of tyranny unleashed by the Spirits' string quartet, a single spell from a lone human stood to repel the destruction; a mantle of flames, resembling a phoenix, shielded everyone. The scene looked like a page torn from the heart of a legend.

It was a spell considered the most refined, combining offense, healing, and defense at astonishing levels. Although its raw power might have been less than others, its flexibility and adaptability surpassed even the Ariel wind of Ais, which was derived from Great Spirits.

Naturally, no matter how powerful a spell might be, it alone could not repel a fourfold bombardment that even the barriers of Riveria Ljos Alf, Orario's greatest mage, could not withstand.

The secret lay in the Spirit Blessing skill. The Spirits—destined by the Creator Gods to assist heroes—granted their blessing unconditionally to Al, who possessed the incomparable essence of a hero.

This did not refer to the powerful Spirits whose names were immortalized in epics, but rather low-ranking Spirits. These entities lacked intelligence or independent personality, wandering the world as faint natural forces.

Despite their lowly rank, their divine nature was genuine. By uniting countless numbers of these weak blessings, Al possessed unrivaled power when facing any creature of the Spirit race.

The Spirit Blessing skill was the embodiment of this generous support. Just as a Water Spirit robe repels a Crozzo fire sword, and just as amulets negate magical attacks, Spirit powers oppose and neutralize one another. Thus, Al, protected by the blessings of countless Spirits, was virtually immune to any attack of spiritual origin.

Al was the only natural enemy of the Corrupted Spirit.

Furthermore, Al—regarded as the fastest in the city—was accustomed to crushing incantations before they were complete. Despite the massive size of the four Spirits preventing their magic from being fully halted, he succeeded in interrupting more than half of their assaults.

Al alone dominated the field, intercepting magical projectiles that surpassed the longest chants of the strongest adventurers, down to lightning-fast quick-spells.

However, even Al could not eliminate four Corrupted Spirits by himself. Added magic has a duration that eventually expires, and stamina has its limits.

But that was no cause for concern.

The Loki Familia was not a gathering of weaklings content with being protected.

"Everyone! Leave the magical defense to Al! Focus on finishing them off one by one with precision!!"

Under the command of the "Braver," Finn Deimne, whose every prediction had proven true, Ais, Bete, Tiona, Tione, Riveria, Gareth, Raul, and their comrades charged into the decisive battle.

The four Spirits possessed a desperate combat power far exceeding deep-floor Bosses. Ordinarily, a single Familia could not withstand them even by giving their all, but the Loki Familia maintained control over the battle.

This was due to the efficiency of Finn Deimne; his tactical insight and ability to expose enemy weaknesses while directing his comrades were extraordinary.

More importantly, his mere presence bolstered morale. Upon hearing his command, Bete and the others charged without hesitation. Combined with Al's shuttle-like movement across the field to maintain the battle lines, the power of Ais Wallenstein's winds was a decisive factor.

While Al handled the magic, some attacks still slipped through. Here, Ais's winds—which had transcended the limits of her level—stepped in to suppress those strikes.

Ais's winds dominated the battlefield thanks to a double enhancement: the Avenger skill, which raised her abilities against monsters to their peak, and Al's Spirit Blessing, which provided her with exceptional support against Spirits.

Even tentacle strikes that surpassed Boss-level power—blows that could fell a first-class adventurer in a single hit—were completely suppressed by those white winds that broke the boundaries of human strength.

"—O white winds."

Between the black fire of hatred in her heart and the warm winds inherited from her mother, Ais reached a power rivaling that of the Spirits. Since ancient times, Spirits fought alongside the heroes they chose; thus, Ais Wallenstein reached her peak today while fighting beside Al Cranel.

"Ais, incredible—"

"Lefiya! Do not stop chanting—Wyn Fimbulvetr!!"

Suddenly—

"Take thissssssssss!!"

"We did it! Gareth killed one of them!!"

The great Dwarf warrior, with a suicidal strike in which he risked being hit by magic, managed to shatter the parasitic Spirit Power Stone on the venomous moth. Its massive body turned to ash and vanished.

The sight filled their hearts with the certainty of victory.

Of course, there was no complacency or openings. Despite the joy, the senses of the veteran adventurers remained vigilantly fixed on the three remaining Spirits.

However, for a single second, their caution faltered toward anything other than those Spirits.

—That woman had been waiting for her chance. Fear had consumed her heart following two previous defeats; she feared the Sword Saint, and she feared Aria. Therefore, she was certain that the Spirit Incarnations, though possessing power exceeding several first-class adventurers, would not last long against the Sword Saint, regardless of their numbers.

So she waited. She waited for the moment when everyone's attention was completely distracted.

She would kill Aria first. Her death would make delivering her to that woman troublesome, but in the worst-case scenario, her body would suffice. She had to be killed before she directed those black winds toward her. Once Aria was secured, she could deal with the Sword Saint later.

The moment arrived. The second the adventurers were certain of victory, the woman burst at full speed from the core of a man-eating flower where she had been hiding.

After two defeats, she had swallowed massive quantities of Power Stones and donned the Flesh Armor. Her suicidal dash, which tore at her own body, surpassed the reaction speeds of even Finn or Gareth.

Only Al sensed that explosive movement from a body freed of all restraints.

(That corrupted and poisoned Spirit, whose nature has turned, who calls me Aria and wants to eat me just as she did on the 24th floor.)

(This distorted Spirit is strong, and I cannot defeat one alone. But I am not alone now. More importantly, I can fight beside Al!!)


"—!! Ais!!"

"Al? What are—"

What Ais saw was Revis, the red-haired woman who had emerged from the dead flower's mouth—plunging her sword into the chest of Al, who had thrown himself forward to shield her from the blow.

He was the symbol of strength that never fell. He was the powerhouse who was not permitted to break. No matter the monster, the opponent, or the hardship, he always emerged victorious; the undisputed strongest hero of the Loki Familia.

Consequently, the sight of AL falling to his knees caused the members of the Loki Familia to freeze—even Finn lost control of his consciousness at the horror of the scene.

"—T... aah—"

From the deep wound, and from his mouth, eyes, nose, and ears, pitch-black blood—appearing as if it were rotted—began to flow, while Al's face contorted in agony.

"Ah, Aaaaaaaaaaaaa—STORM!!"

The winds that had lost the hero's blessing returned to their black hue, blasting Revis, who had intended to deliver the finishing blow to Al.

"Riveria!!"

"I have just finished the chant!!—Van Alheim!"

Riveria had begun her incantation the moment the stabbing occurred. She rushed toward the kneeling Al to unleash her third-tier healing magic, Van Alheim—the spell of the city's greatest mage that could bring back even those on the brink of death. But—

"—T... It won't close!!"

On the contrary, the flow of black blood did not stop, as if he were approaching death at an insane speed. Even Al's own added magic fire, which usually healed his wounds upon activation, flickered out as if his magic had been sealed.

"Do not let those weapons touch you, not even for a scratch! It is a curse!!"

Finn screamed, seeing Al's abnormal condition and the ominous nature of the sword that had pierced him. That curse was likely preventing healing and blocking magic. However, Al's appearance also suggested he had been hit by a lethal toxin. There was no poison that could strike down a LEVEL 7 so easily.

"How is this possible?! Curses should not affect Al!!"

"—Heh, I intended to kill Aria first, but you are a fool... If you hadn't protected Aria, an attack of my level could never have pierced your defense."

Revis said as she stood up some distance away after being blasted by Ais, her body covered in moving flesh armor. Her face bore an expression of insult mixed with dark pleasure. With her appearance, the Spirits ceased their movement.

"Enyo told me that the Sword Saint is unaffected by ordinary curses. Indeed, your survival without immediate death proves that the curse alone, or the poison alone, is insufficient against you. But this sword is the HERO KILLER."

She brandished a greatsword with a blade resembling black scales, dripping with a mysterious purple fluid. She spoke with the tone of one certain of victory, as if addressing the dead who would not return to life.

"I, who live in the Dungeon, care nothing for such talk, but this sword was crafted from a Great Beast killed ten years ago in a land called Dedan. A sword of cursed venom processed by a sorcerer of EVILOUS from the remains of that monster. No one but I can even hold it."

"The land of Dedan? Impossible—!!"

Finn was the first to react to the mention of that land. He realized then that this poison truly could kill Al, and a terror swept over him that nearly shattered the mask of The Braver.

"I believe the name of that Great Beast was—The King of the Land, was it not? (The BEHEMOTH)"

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Chapter 31 : The Hero New
Finn Deimne understood this all too well.

He knew he would never be the hero who saved everyone. Instead, he was merely an artificial hero.

Feigned courage, orchestrated glory, fabricated achievements, and a paved-over adventure—Deimne was a hero stitched together from disparate parts.

Before he fashioned himself into an adventurer, and before he became Finn Deimne, he was simply a rebellious child who believed he was smarter than the world. He was born in a mountain village where various races mingled. Even in that small world, his kin—the Pallums—faced discrimination and were looked down upon.

They believed in the "Goddess Viana," the embodiment of the "Knights of Viana." Long ago, these Pallum knights founded their order, defeated countless monsters, and saved humanity.

However, the will of that goddess—a hero and saint to their kind—vanished entirely when not a single knight survived their final battle. Her memory lingered in Pallum hearts as a creed, but that faith was discarded the moment the "True Gods" descended to the world. Viana was relegated to a fictional deity. Deprived of this sanctuary, the Pallums fell into an abyss of self-loathing.

His people lost their pride and courage. Their small statures and lack of strength led others to treat them as an inferior race.

In his birth village, the Pallums were the weakest link. His parents endured mockery simply for their race, yet they never fought back. Instead, they allowed themselves to be exploited. He loathed them—parents who laughed as if they had surrendered to everything, treating themselves with contempt.

—Why don't you sharpen your wits?

—Why do you submit just because the opponent is larger?

—Why don't you resist like that "Fictional Goddess"?


He felt more disgust toward his own kind, who did nothing but hang their heads, than toward the other races who looked down on them.

If they could not match others in physical build, he decided that intellect would be his weapon. He slipped into the village chief's library and pored over hundreds, then thousands of books. Acquiring knowledge was more than a pastime; it provided a staggering sense of pleasure to know what others did not.

He used that knowledge to ensure he bowed to no one. He employed trickery to lead villagers into their own traps. Even when they retaliated with blows and kicks, he consoled himself with the fact that he was not subservient like his parents.

When he turned ten, monsters lurking in the mountains attacked the village at midnight.

He shook off his parents' hands and ran, fighting back his terror. When he reached the village square, he found corpses drenched in blood.

Amidst the screams of dying adults, he smuggled away women and children younger than himself. He even saved the rowdy boys who used to bully him and ran to extinguish the spreading fires. He acted exactly like the "Fictional Goddess"—like the heroes of ancient myths.

But that was not "courage." It was merely vanity born of baseless confidence and a recklessness driven by petty pride.

Faced with the rampaging monsters, the thousands of pages of knowledge he had gathered proved useless. His legs froze. In that moment, he realized that what drove him was not bravery, but hollow arrogance.

He trembled before the decisive difference in power. As the monster's claws closed in—his parents shielded his body with their own. The very parents he had despised.

"...Deimne."

"Thank God..."

His parents died. They died simply, leaving him behind after embracing him to protect him until their final breaths. He remembered little of what followed.

After adults from other races rushed in and killed the monsters, he fled into the depths of the mountains in a daze. He wanted to vanish into the darkness of the forest. He did not want anyone to see his ugliness. So, he ran along monster trails.

Suddenly, a star-studded sky stretched out before him.

Cornered at the edge of a moonlit cliff, he wept in regret over his foolishness. He sobbed and screamed, releasing the emotions he had suppressed since birth.

He had not shed a tear when his parents died, nor when the monsters attacked. But now, he could not stop the tears that poured out like a burst dam.

He was filled with regret. It was painful, cruel, bitter, and terrifying. Why was he the only one left alive?

He cried for a long time. He cried in despair, in disappointment, at the sight of his people fleeing before everyone else, and at the sight of himself—someone who did not know the meaning of courage.

The night wind seemed to mock him with its violent gusts. His body shook from the cold, and he closed his eyes. Behind his eyelids, he saw the image of his father and mother facing a monster much larger than themselves.

In that image, he felt he had found "courage" and "hope" for the Pallums.

On that day, he swore to become a "Hero" to restore the pride of his race.

He abandoned his home and family name, choosing to call himself "Finn," which meant "Light" in the Pallum tongue, alongside his name "Deimne." He wanted to show his people, who lived with bowed heads, the "hope" he had seen that day for the sake of their race's revival.

This was the beginning of his adventure—Finn Deimne.

To become the hope of his race in place of the "Fictional Goddess," he accumulated adventures, gained strength, and gathered fame. He strove to be worthy of the title "The Braver" bestowed upon him by Loki, in word and deed.

He did not need superficial bravery; he needed ironclad achievements. He sought the fame that would allow him to carry the weight of an entire race on his shoulders. Along the way, he allowed mentor figures and brothers-in-arms to die before his eyes, believing that such sacrifices would save the greater number.

An artificial hero, a manufactured fraud, and a patched-together fantasy. He never stopped his stride because he could not afford to. To restore the pride the Pallums once possessed, he kept walking.

Yet, at some point, he realized: is a hero not someone people need, rather than someone who creates themselves?

It was then that he met him—Al Cranel..

He was about the age Finn had been when Loki took him in, but he possessed red eyes that seemed to simmer with all the world's fury.

He possessed a sharpness exceeding Ais and a talent that surpassed hers. The eyes of that boy, who looked as if he had survived the very halls of death, were harder than any human Finn had ever known.

Gareth used to lecture Al, who dove daily into floors that did not suit his strength, warning him against haste. Riveria volunteered to be his teacher, fearing he would die if left unsupervised. Loki felt a sense of dread regarding something stirring in the depths of his eyes.

But Finn was the only one who realized how precise Al's calculations were. He always returned with severe injuries, yet he was never once dealt a fatal wound.

He was different from the Ais of old; he measured his strength with cold detachment, forcing himself through ordeals that nearly killed him but never did, surviving at the final moment.

The first time Al nearly died was during his third week as an adventurer. He fought to secure the escape of his party members—whom he had been forced to accompany by Riveria's order—against an Irregular "Infant Dragon" that appeared suddenly in the upper floors.

When Finn heard from the fleeing party leader, a Level 2 member, that Al remained alone as a rear guard in the corridor, he felt a slight disappointment.

Perhaps he was projecting his old self—who confused arrogance with courage—onto the boy. He headed toward the corridor with Gareth and the others, hiding his disappointment toward Al, whom he assumed was certainly dead.

Both Finn and Gareth expected to find a corpse. But when they reached the floor, they saw Al fighting his enemy without surrender, exhausting his body inch by inch and using various cheap weapons he discarded after every use.

Finn could not believe his eyes. He could not believe the boy fighting before him. He was the perfect ideal Finn had always imagined.

Seeing him burn away his life to protect his comrades made something inside Finn shudder. He could not look away from that battle, which should have been at a much lower level for a first-tier adventurer; he was completely captivated.

There was no fear in his eyes, only an overwhelming will to fight. He had been an adventurer for less than a month, yet his feet did not falter before an opponent that even Level 2 adventurers fled from. He felt the difference in strength with his body, yet he did not retreat.

While Gareth, Bete, and Tiona were all stunned, Finn saw "courage" in Al as he faced an opponent vastly superior to him with intelligence and desperation, shielding his wounded comrades with his back.

—Could I have done that? Could I have shown that "courage" when I was just a child who thought he was smart?

If monsters had not attacked his village, Finn would have ended his life there as a conceited boy. But Al, in total contrast, left his village of his own will and came to Orario.

By refusing to surrender, he achieved a heroic feat by defeating an enemy far stronger than himself.

One year passed, then two, three, four... and before they knew it, Al was at their level—and then he surpassed them.

In the four years since Al joined the family, not a single member had died. Al protected them.

Without his presence, one of them surely would have perished. Even the elites faced dire situations repeatedly, but thanks to him, they were all fine.

Finn aspired to a heroic tale that would become a new light for the Pallums. He wanted to be a "Hero of the Masses," a "Cunning Leader," and an "Artificial Hero." He exploited everything and abandoned everything. It was a filthy, polluted path that contradicted his brilliant fame.

However, it was the shortest path to reaching the status of a "Hero."

Thus, Al looked radiant in his eyes. He envied and was fascinated by him because Al always looked forward without regard for profit or loss.

Al was different from him; he had no desire to become a hero.

When standing beside him, Finn felt how small and fraudulent he truly was.

Even now, Al was the very definition of a hero.

He stood up. Despite wounds that would not heal with Riveria's magic or elixirs, and despite being afflicted by the "Hero Killer" poison that drove heroes to suicide.

●○●○●

Revis saw Al rising like a ghost, the scent of rot and scorched flesh emanating from his body, and her legs shook without her realizing it.

(How can he stand?! No, before that, why has the bleeding stopped─────)

Al was forcibly sealing the gap in his chest by cauterizing it. The red sword Al carried was a cursed blade defiled by time.

The hideousness of that curse rivaled the venom of the BEHEMOTH. That curse granted a suicidal, destructive power that massively increased attack strength in exchange for burning the wielder's body. It could not heal wounds, but its intensity allowed its curse to override others.

He had stopped the bleeding through sheer force. Al had very little time left. His body had crossed its limits long ago.

His heart was pierced, his blood drained, and his soul was being eroded by the curse and the poison. His body was rotting from blood to bone, and he suffered unspeakable agony—pain that would make even the fiercest warriors choose suicide.

He would die eventually, sooner or later. But Al's eyes had not died yet. Despite knowing the magnitude of pain that would follow, he rose.

Al's heart did not break, despite the terrible pain that made death look like salvation, the heat that nearly scorched his brain, and the constriction that squeezed his lungs and spread through his body.

The whites of his eyes turned a murky yellow, and his gaze was unfocused, as if he had gone blind. His skin lost its moisture, feeling like decaying dry wood, and dark, tar-like blood oozed from every pore of his face.

"What are you... You bastard, what are you really....!!"

He was in a wretched state, a walking corpse. Had he not leaned on his sword, he could not have even stood. Yet, Revis felt a terror she had never known. Despite her overwhelming advantage, she retreated involuntarily, her teeth chattering.

Fresh blood flowed from the large hole in his chest that the cauterization had not fully closed. Still, Al did not fall. Revis felt as if she were facing an immortal monster.

She was terrified by that sight—of a hero burning the remainder of his life to fight for the protection of others without regard for himself. The aura Al released now was incomparable to anything before. What lay in his eyes was neither anger nor killing intent.

"─────"

With those eyes that had lost their light, Al "looked" at Finn. And Finn—"The Braver"—understood the meaning of that look. Finn alone understood the final testament of the friend he respected.

"Everyone, protect Al."

If he could have issued that order, it would have been much easier. If they all perished here together, it would have been a lighter burden. But he could not, and he must not. His past did not permit this "escape."

With intelligence that rivaled even the gods, Finn grasped the truth. A corrupted spirit using multi-elemental magic despite being a single-element spirit; a colored magic stone of a new type of monster; and the Great Wind Spirit Aria from the holy corridor epic.

Among the various magics, the corrupted spirit did not use the wind element. That "Monstrosity" called Ais "Aria" and pursued her. Ais had a mother named Aria and used wind magic with power incredible for a human.

Every thread led to one answer.

The top priority to protect, even before the dying Al, was Ais. If Ais were stolen, the corrupted spirit might become "complete."

Above all, if Ais were stolen, the feelings of Al—who protected her with his body—would be in vain.

To the monstrosity, the rest of them were mere extras. Its goal was only Ais and Al. Likely, it did not even see the rest of the Loki Familia as enemies.

This was true. Only Al and Ais had been able to fight the four spirits that possessed power exceeding floor bosses. Now, Al was at death's door with his magic sealed, and Ais could no longer fight as she once did.

And this red-haired creature, Revis. Even though Al had faced the spirits alone and protected the defenseless Ais, she had managed to stab him. Whether because of that green armor or her traits as an evolved monster, her movements certainly exceeded the limits of Level 6.

To fight that creature, Finn would have to use his cursed spear, HELL FINEGAS. But that meant abandoning command. Currently, no one but Riveria and Al could lead the team, and Raul was not ready yet.

So, should he leave the command to Riveria and act as the rear guard himself?

...Impossible. The most he would do is hold out against the creature before being incinerated by the spirits' magic.

In this place and at this moment, only one person could perform the role of rear guard.

"I will not ask for forgiveness."

Thus, this is what Finn had to say. What only Finn could say.

"─────Al, die for us."

"Finn!! What are you saying?!"

"Everyone, withdraw!! We will leave that creature and the rest of the monsters to Al!! I will allow no objections──!!"

No one could respond to the force of will from their leader, who was gritting his teeth so hard they nearly shattered.

"The anger, the contempt—I will accept it all once we return to the surface. So, obey orders now──!!"

".....Do not be distressed. It was just my turn today. That's all there is to it, isn't it....."

Al was the first to comply with the order. Finn, who received what felt like a wordless message from him, represented the pinnacle of spiritual harmony with him. "The Braver" and the "Sword Saint"—the leader and the pillar of the greatest force. No other member could interfere in their decision.

Except for one person.

●○●○●

I was always fighting with Al.

With my magic arrows and Al's skill with the sword, we harvested enemies, cooperated, and sometimes competed. This was how we rose together. Whoever the strong opponent was, and whatever the hardships, I could overcome them with Al.

But Al does not look at me; he looks forward. Al advances and leaves me behind. If it continues like this, I will surely be left alone. I hate that. I am nothing without Al.

I want to see the same scenes Al sees. I want to eat what he eats. I want to wake up and sleep with him. I want to talk to him more. I want to be by his side. I cannot imagine my life without Al.

If Al vanished, I would not be able to live.

Al was always saving me. When I lost my way, he held my hand.

When the paths narrowed for me, he pushed me forward.

I tried so hard to catch up to him.

Driven by anxiety, I continued to dive into the Dungeon daily. I became strong—strong enough to fight by Al's side...! So why?!

I don't understand what Finn is saying. Leave Al?

"No, this... I won't allow it."

I became strong so this wouldn't happen. I wanted to be strong because I didn't want to just be protected. I wanted to catch up to him to protect Al this time. I am already beside Al───

"[O Raging Breaths───"

The magic did not complete. My vision collapsed, my body gave way, and my consciousness flickered as it faded.

(Mind Down──!! My body is already...)

Due to the continuous use of magic that exceeded her limits, her body finally "recognized" the burden placed upon it and could no longer do anything. She could not hold her sword, nor even stand. Nevertheless, she crawled forward. She wanted to go to Al. That feeling alone was what drove her.

And even that feeling collapsed.

"You must become strong, or else... you will surely kill Al."

The words of her own self, seen in a mirage one day, echoed in her mind. The worst future she had always denied stood before her eyes now. Al is going to die? Is Al really going to die? Am I going to lose Al? This is absolutely unacceptable.

"Ah, it's a lie... No, no, no, I hate this!! I hate this!!"

I have no strength. My limbs won't move. Even when I try to put pressure on my arms, they won't move at all. I cannot move. I cannot move them. They won't obey me. My tears poured out before this bitter reality. I don't want Al to die. If Al vanishes, what do I do? I don't know. I don't know anything.

Without Al, I don't know how to live. Since that day, at that time, we should have been together, but now he is so far away. I see Al's back at the tips of my faltering fingers.

I crawled like a worm, dragging my disobedient body, and screamed like a small child. I screamed as if screaming would solve everything, as if someone would come to "save me."

"Listen to me!! Ais Wallenstein!!"

Al shouted in a voice that sounded like he was spitting blood. A stern voice I had never heard from him before. But the "Eyes" looking at me were as warm as the sun, exactly like the last look my father gave before he departed toward the monsters. There was no surrender in that look, only resolve.

"....I'm sorry."

"It seems I won't be able to be your hero."

"I cannot be a hero for you."

Those words and that back overlapped with the old image of my father. Stop, don't say any more, don't leave me. If Al is going to die, then I will die too. Don't leave me alone.

My wish did not reach him, and Al's back drifted away little by little. I am helpless. No matter how much I grit my teeth, my body does not obey me. I can only crawl on the Dungeon floor.

I hate this, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!!!! Don't go, don't go, Al.

I must go. I must catch up and stop him. Al will die. Al will be killed. No, no!! Why? How? I am still capable of fighting. I am still fighting. So take me with you. Please.

If Al is going to die, it's better if I die.

Don't take Al, don't steal Al from me.

No matter how much I wished and no matter how much I screamed, my body did not move an inch. I could only watch that back as it moved further away.

The scream that did not come out as a sound reached no one. Al did not turn around.

In the end, Al stopped one last time and looked at me over his shoulder, a smile on his face as if he felt no pain at all.

That was the bright smile he had directed at me for the first time—the smile I had hoped he would give me one day. That smile was exactly like the one my father once gave──

"─────I hope you meet your own hero one day."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note: Loki Familia members, ranked by proximity to Al (excluding the "despair team"):

Finn

Riveria

Tiona

Alicia

Gareth

Bete (plays the role of the big brother from a distance)

Ais (suffers from innate poor communication skills)

Lefiya (originally doesn't interact with him much)

Tione (completely obsessed with Finn)

°



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Chapter 32 : No Longer a Lone Wolf New
Despair crushed every heart present, from Finn to Ais and everyone else on the battlefield. They had surrendered to a reality that demanded they sacrifice Al for their survival, succumbing to a weakness so profound that the Monstrosity did not even grant them a second glance.

Except for one person—a lone werewolf who charged forward.

●○●○●

I did it!

Yes, this is exactly what I wanted!!

My intuition never fails; you did a marvelous job, Revis!!

Good grief, it has been a long road. It started with the Infant Dragon, then the Black Goliath, followed by the Juggernaut, the Ancient Holy Beast, and that irregular floor boss... I narrowly escaped death every single time by some miracle, but it seems my moment has finally arrived!!

The Behemoth's venom is the real deal—the kind that actually ends a life. Finish me off quickly, because if you don't do it now, my body will probably develop a resistance to it.

"I will not ask for forgiveness."

Huh? What is it, Finn?

"─────Al, please die for us."

I accept!!

I love Finn because he says things like that! Fine, everyone run. Get out of here. I will ensure your escape, no matter the cost.

"Ah... It's a lie... No, no, no, I refuse!! I refuse!!"

Shut up!! Stay quiet and watch! Let me die a glorious, heroic death!!

"I'm sorry."

"It seems I won't be able to be your hero."

Do you have any idea how much time, effort, and situational buildup it took just to say that one line? Well, I'm saying it now. These are the final words one only gets to speak once in a lifetime, so listen closely.

"─────I hope you meet your own hero one day."

─────Yes, that's it. That is the face I wanted to see.

Now, I have no regrets left... I'll use the last of my strength to defeat Revis and her lackeys while you escape.

"[─────Break the shackles. I am the one who carries the arrow of the Moon Goddess I long for, and the spear of the covenant. I am the false hero.]"

"[The Vesper Hymn, the flame of desire that consumes my flesh, the ringing of the cloister bell. The funeral note, the melody of thunder; what I play is the anthem of dawn.]"

This magic-sealing curse... I can break through it with sheer will and power!! I'll give you a taste of my strongest magic───── Huh?

Wait, what?! What are you doing?!

●○●○●

My life up to this point has been a series of losing precious things.

My home was in the northern lands of the continent. We were a tribe of nomadic demi-humans with no ties to nations or cities, known as the "Plains People." We lived without Gods and without "Blessings." Nevertheless, we were strong enough never to lose to low-ranking followers.

We crushed monsters and ground anyone who tried to mess with us into the dirt, even those with guards. My father, the tribe leader, was stronger than everyone—he was my pride and joy.

I had my strong mother, my little sister Luna, and my werewolf brothers. And then there was Rene, my childhood friend born on the same day as me. She was weak, unfitting for the tribe's standards, but she was more beautiful than anyone else.

The tribe's creed was "Survival of the Fittest"; if you wanted something, you took it by force. The boys competed for Rene, who grew more beautiful by the day. As for me, I continued to sharpen my fangs until I became the strongest among the children.

"It's fine if you're weak! If your strength is only half of everyone else's, then I'll just put out double or triple the power. I'll become strong for your sake too!"

Back then, when I said that to Rene, I believed it was enough for just me to be the strong one.

It happened the year I turned twelve. That "Beast" descended from the "Dragon Valley" in the far north, one of the three Great Quests of the world. Neither the tribe's skills, nor their wisdom, nor even the beastification under the moonlight mattered; it slaughtered everyone.

On the night of the golden moon, the tribe was completely annihilated. I was the only survivor. Survival of the fittest—the strong are permitted to do anything, and the weak have no right to object. I finally understood the law of the world my father had taught me.

── My father was weak; therefore, he was torn apart.

── My mother was weak; therefore, she was cut in half.

── My sister was weak; therefore, she was trampled underfoot.

And I was weak; therefore, everything precious was stolen from me.

I abandoned my homeland. Reviving a tribe of weaklings would only lead to them being plundered again. I searched for "Power." I searched for "Fangs" that would never break so I could defeat that "Beast" that had become the "Lord of the Plains."

I left my scars visible on purpose so I would never forget the humiliation of my weakness, and I tattooed over them.

After a long journey, I reached the Labyrinth City, Orario. My first move was to find a God who would grant me a "Blessing." I intended to choose my deity with extreme care, but I early on met a God I felt I could strike a contract with.

The God Vidar.

A silent God with a hint of serenity, he distanced himself from worldly trivialities. His rare words felt like sacred revelations.

"Careful that your jaw isn't torn apart along with those fangs of yours."

The Vidar Familia was a faction specializing in exploration. The disciplined adventurers who loved this God were all young, mostly demi-humans. The cold ache in my chest was what made me decide to join them.

After joining, brawling with members became a daily occurrence. Selenia, a human with strength surpassing everyone else who served as the Captain, was a strong, beautiful, and formidable warrior.

I continued to fight like a madman. After a few months, the members became brothers-in-arms I could trust with my back, and my strength was finally acknowledged.

When I surpassed Selenia in "Status," I became the wolf leading the pack as the Captain of the Vidar Familia, just like the father I had once looked up to.

The Vidar Familia, once small and weak, began to advance. I and the other members achieved successive rank-ups until we were considered a powerful mid-tier faction.

"The Gray Wolf"—that was my first title.

I refused to become the scum that oppressed the weak, and I wouldn't tolerate the arrogance of the strong.

As I obsessively sharpened my "Fangs," the members followed in my footsteps, hungering for strength. Over time, my way of life became the way of the Vidar Familia.

It wasn't just about power; I showed them how to be. Even the members weaker than me obtained "Fangs" and became warriors who defied the logic of "Survival of the Fittest." It was a comfortable place. The "Family" I had lost truly existed there.

And even the "Love" I had lost.

I thought this woman might heal my wounds; those sweet feelings stirred within me. But after four years in Orario, I reached Level 3. I couldn't wait any longer.

I left Orario for a while to kill the "Lord of the Plains" with my own hands.

"....Vidar."

"Bete.."

On a night with a round moon resembling that night long ago, I returned to my homeland. I faced that thing once more. The deadly battle lasted all night. I exhausted every weapon, blood leaked from my entire body, and my bones shattered—but I crushed the claws that tore my father and mother, broke the legs that trampled my sister, and ripped apart the mouth that devoured Rene.

I turned into a beast more ferocious than the "Lord of the Plains" and bared my "Fangs."

Standing over the giant monster's corpse, I let out a thunderous roar. It was a mix of joy and rage, sorrow and emptiness. I had become strong. Nothing would be stolen from me anymore. Yet, the pain of my "Fangs" did not subside.

That day, too, it was raining. After defeating the "Lord of the Plains" and returning to the Labyrinth City, Selenia's corpse was what awaited me.

It was just a regular scouting mission in the Labyrinth. Something simple they had done dozens of times in their daily lives. Why? Are the weak completely helpless if the strong don't protect them?

I was supposed to have become strong. So why was something else stolen from me a second time?

After a while, the Vidar Familia decided to leave Orario.

I hurt them with my words on purpose so they would hate me, pushing them away from the Labyrinth City as if I were expelling them. The Guild agreed to the departure of Vidar and the others because I, as a second-class adventurer, would remain. There were no parting words.

Since then, not a day passed without a fight. But no "Strong" person could defeat me.

Those weaklings who cannot defy the world of "Survival of the Fittest." Fragile beings that Bete cannot save, no matter how strong he becomes.

Perhaps that meeting was fated. During the days I spent brawling without belonging to a faction, unfamiliar faces appeared in the tavern I frequented.

The Loki Familia. The faction that had stood at the forefront alongside the Goddess of Beauty's faction since I first set foot in the Labyrinth City—the largest faction in town.

For the first time, another adventurer crushed me. The strength I had polished meant nothing against that great first-class Dwarf warrior. I laughed at the sheer absurdity of it.

"What is this? So they do exist here? People so strong you can't even talk to them."

After Loki summoned me and I joined the faction, I immediately rose to Level 4.

I was amazed after joining. How could these people, who weren't blessed with innate talent, fight like this? How was their trust in the leader of the pack so incredibly high? And how did the pack change completely when the leader changed?

"The Braver," Finn Deimne. Despite being of the Pallum race—often despised as inferior—he was a phenomenal figure who reached Level 6 and effectively sat at the peak of Orario.

His strength, his intelligence, and his resolve... I had never met a man who matched him. He possessed the essence of a true "Hero" and was ready to carry the entire weight of his race on his shoulders.

And Ais Wallenstein. A young human girl. Had my sister lived, she would have been around her age; yet, she was a woman stronger than me when she used magic.

She sought power even more than I did, and it became a pleasure to watch Ais grow steadily stronger.

Two years later, Al Cranel joined. That boy was radiant—sharper and more talented than everyone, looking upward more than anyone else.

Unlike me, he was the one who saved Ais and everyone else without losing a thing. His strength increased with lightning speed, until I found he had surpassed me and set foot in territories further beyond.

Six years have passed since I joined the Loki Familia. I'll admit, it wasn't bad. An outstanding leader, members who weren't scum even if they were weak, and strong rivals I could polish myself against.

It was then I realized. For me, "Fangs" are "Scars." The wolf full of scars—that is my truth.

I once thought that by sharpening my fangs and increasing my strength, I would protect everything. And for a while, I believed everyone would die if they didn't become strong.

The battlefield is only fit for those who can howl back at the mockery of the strong; those who lack that resolve or refuse to change will become nothing more than "trash" whose corpses pile up in vain.

Therefore, I despised them, mocked them, and laughed at them... those "trash" who try to stand on the battlefield. None of them can even howl, and they never change..

───── But, that boy howled, didn't he?

"[O Shackled Evil Wolf King. The first wound is a bond, the second wound is a cry of pain, the third wound is a stake.]"

I unleashed this chant that represents "Scars," breaking the shackle I had imposed on myself never to use it. It was childish stubbornness, but it was a desperate desire where I decided I would protect even unto death.

"[The saliva of hunger is the only hope. Carve a river mingled with blood and wash away the tears. O unhealing wound, do not forget.]"

But that boy broke his cocoon and changed. So, what use am I if I don't break my shackles right here and now ────!!

"[This rage and this hatred, your lethargy and your flame. Loathe the world, acknowledge the logic, and dry the tears. Turn the wound into fangs and the sobbing into a howl.]"

My family, my childhood friend, my lover... I couldn't protect any of them. My life was a series of consecutive losses.

"[By the power of the lost flesh and blood, the chains are shattered. The roar of the sky's cry. O lineage of wrath, devour the moon in place of this body, and drink deep.]"

So that I don't lose anything again, so that no more is stolen from me. This time── I will protect! I will protect with all my might!!

"[With your flaming fangs... devour everything.]"

"[─────Hati!!]"

The magic devoured the remnants of the magical power exhaled by that polluted spirit. A giant wolf of crimson flames appeared, rivaling Riveria's magic "Rea Laevateinn," baring its jaws as it roared ferociously. Its eyes glowed crimson under the light of the flames. However, the tsunami of fire that nearly swallowed Revis, the spirit, and even Al───── was easily parried by Revis's greatsword.

"Someone at Level 5 is nothing but a hindrance."

No matter the strength of the magic after breaking the seal, Bete at Level 5 would never reach the monstrosity Revis, who possessed abilities approaching Level 7. Bete himself realized this more than anyone else. His goal wasn't to defeat Revis.

The feature of "Hati" is "Magic Absorption." The giant wolf's fangs are not like the degraded weapon "Frohsvirt"; they are fire fangs unleashed in full. If something is born of magical power, they will tear into it—whether it's an attack, a barrier, or────── a curse.

"Get up, you bastard─────!!"

"....Good grief, I had given up. I thought this was the end this time."

"But, after all this buildup you've given me, I can't exactly die here."

──────────────────────────────────────────────────

Settings Segment:

[The Behemoth Greatsword] An item dropped from the Behemoth, discovered in the Black Desert of Dedan. Barca Perdix, who possesses the "Mystery" skill, turned it into a cursed weapon. It is a filthy weapon combining the Behemoth's death venom and Barca's curse. Thanks to his curse-defense skill, high-ranking "Abnormal Resistance," and Level 7 status, Al managed to endure. Had it been Raul or Lefiya, they would have died instantly; even Ais, if stabbed in the chest, would have died in seconds.

[Rea Phoenix] Simply put: "Less power than Ariel," "Less fire than Hati," "Less auto-healing than Fels," "Less purification and poison healing than Amid," "Less magic resistance than Alfia." However, its energy consumption efficiency is incredibly excellent.

[Yggdrasil Leaf] The third magic he intended to use. A very "dirty" skill, and because the other two skills are so powerful, he rarely finds an opportunity to use it.

[Spirit Protection] If there is a Spirit on the allied side, the user and that Spirit receive a special "buff." If the Spirit is an enemy, the user receives a powerful offensive "buff" against it. It grants permanent resistance to elemental attacks and curses. Its true value cannot be shown as long as the user is under the influence of the "Blessing" (the Falna).

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