Felis stepped out of the Guild's bathhouse, his damp black hair falling loosely over his forehead. The steam clinging to his skin quickly vanished in the afternoon air, leaving behind only a lingering warmth. Clean, refreshed, and finally free of the dungeon's stench, he stretched his arms above his head, rolling his shoulders.
'Four days down there, huh… No wonder I feel lighter.'
Of course, Numen Aquae had kept his body from feeling the worst of the strain, but the constant vigilance, the battles, and the responsibility of escorting Narissa had weighed on him in ways even magic couldn't fully erase. Still, after a good bath and a change into fresh clothes, his exhaustion faded into a dull memory.
He made his way toward the Guild's Exchange Counter, where a familiar clerk greeted him with a professional nod.
"You're looking well, Felis-san. Long dive this time?"
"Something like that." He smirked, setting down the hefty sack of magic stones and monster drops. "Let's see how much this haul is worth."
The clerk got to work, appraising the materials with practiced efficiency. The rhythmic clinking of Valis coins soon followed, stacking neatly on the counter.
"After deductions, your total comes to 368,000 Valis."
Felis eyed the sum thoughtfully. He knew that some of the rarer byproducts from deeper floors could fetch higher prices with private buyers, but that would take time—time he didn't have.
Sliding the coin pouch into his coat, he nodded. "Appreciate it."
---
Babel Tower loomed overhead, its pristine white surface gleaming under the afternoon sun. Felis strode through the entrance, weaving past adventurers coming and going, before making his way toward a smithy tucked within the tower's inner halls—a workshop belonging to a blacksmith of the Hephaestus Familia.
As soon as he stepped inside, the familiar scent of heated metal and burning coal filled his nose. The forge roared in the background, casting flickering orange light across the room.
A broad-shouldered dwarf—his muscular arms dusted with soot—looked up from his work, grinning at Felis.
"Right on time, cat-boy."
Felis arched a brow. "Call me that again, and I'll take my business elsewhere."
The dwarf let out a raspy chuckle, then motioned toward the workbench. "Relax. Your sword's done. Have a look."
Resting atop the metal surface was a sleek, one-handed longsword. Its design was elegant yet lethal—crafted for speed and precision over brute strength. The blade itself was slightly narrower than a traditional longsword, optimizing it for fluid movement and rapid strikes without sacrificing durability.
Felis picked it up, testing the weight. It was light—perfectly balanced in his grasp. The grip fit snugly in his hand, wrapped in finely treated leather for a secure hold. He gave the blade a few experimental swings, cutting through the air with smooth, effortless precision.
'Good. This won't slow me down.'
The dwarf crossed his arms, watching. "Made it with your fighting style in mind. You're plenty strong, but I figured you'd want something that lets you stay quick on your feet."
Felis nodded. "You figured right."
The blade was reinforced with a high-quality alloy, ensuring it could withstand prolonged combat—even against something as tough as the Goliath. Yet, despite its resilience, it remained light enough for rapid movement, feints, and counterattacks.
The dwarf blacksmith crossed his arms, watching as Felis flipped the sword once before smoothly sheathing it. A satisfied smirk tugged at his lips.
"I used my best skills on that sword," the blacksmith said, nodding toward the weapon. "You paid upfront, after all, so I couldn't cut corners even if I wanted to."
Felis ran a hand over the hilt, feeling the fine craftsmanship. "Good. I don't plan on holding back with it either."
The dwarf chuckled. "Hah. Try not to break it too fast."
Felis smirked. "If it breaks too easily, I'll go straight to Hephaestus-sama and tell her you scammed me."
Just as he turned to leave, he paused at the doorway. "Hey, do you know if Welf is still at that small smithy near here?"
The dwarf snorted. "Yeah, he should be. Still hammering away, stubborn as ever."
"Good." Felis adjusted his new sword at his hip and walked out.
Time to pick up the rest of his gear.
---
Felis pushed open the door to the small smithy, stepping inside to the familiar scent of heated metal, oil, and sweat. The steady rhythm of hammer on steel filled the air, blending with the occasional hiss of cooling metal.
Welf Crozzo was hunched over the forge, his shirt slightly unbuttoned at the top, revealing sweat-slicked skin from hours of work. The red-haired blacksmith lifted his gaze as Felis approached, pausing in his task.
"Right on time," Welf remarked, wiping his brow with the back of his arm. He set his hammer down and gestured toward a nearby workbench. "Your gear's ready."
Felis stepped closer, eyes scanning the neatly arranged armor.
The chestplate, arm guards, and shin guards were made of reinforced leather, layered with light metal plating in key areas for protection. The leather was dyed a deep black, subtly accented with dark steel. A flexible layer of chainmail was incorporated underneath the chestpiece, providing an additional layer of defense without restricting movement.
"Looks good," Felis commented, running a hand over the material. The craftsmanship was solid—sturdy yet flexible, built for speed rather than brute-force endurance. He picked up the chestplate, testing its weight.
"Feels lighter than I expected."
Welf smirked. "Told you I knew what I was doing. You wanted something that wouldn't slow you down, right? Reinforced leather and layered plating keep it strong without turning you into a walking tin can."
Felis strapped on the arm guards and flexed his wrists. No stiffness, no unnecessary bulk. Perfect.
"Not bad," he admitted.
Welf scoffed. "Heh. 'Not bad,' he says. If you weren't a customer, I'd throw you in the forge."
Felis chuckled, unbothered. "Maybe next time." He set the armor down and grabbed a pouch of coins from his belt, tossing it onto the workbench.
"155,000, as agreed."
Welf picked up the pouch, weighing it in his palm before nodding. "A deal's a deal."
With the transaction settled, Felis adjusted his new gear, fastening the straps securely. He gave one last test movement—a quick sidestep, a pivot, a sharp twist of his torso. No noticeable hindrance.
'Good. This will work.'
He turned back to Welf. "I'll be putting this to the test soon enough. You better not have cut corners."
Welf snorted. "Please. My work speaks for itself. If you break it, that's on you."
Felis smirked, slipping on the new arm guards and flexing his fingers to test their fit. "Nah. I asked for something that can hold up in a fight against Goliath. If it can't, then maybe your skill isn't there yet."
Welf's brow twitched, and he clicked his tongue. "Tch. You really know how to piss people off, you damn cat." He crossed his arms, glaring at Felis with a mix of annoyance and pride. "You think I'd sell you crap? That armor and weapon will outlast you if you don't fight like a total idiot."
Felis chuckled, fastening the chestplate before adjusting the straps to make sure it sat snugly. The reinforced leather felt firm yet flexible, the plating in key areas sturdy but not restrictive. "Heh. Then I'll hold you to that, Crozzo."
Welf scoffed, but there was a flicker of satisfaction in his gaze as he watched Felis move around in the armor, testing its range of motion. "Yeah, yeah. Just try not to die before you make my work famous."
Felis rolled his shoulders, pleased with the fit. "Didn't plan to. I've got a goddess to feed at home."
Welf snorted. "Tch. Now that's a reason I haven't heard before."
Felis smirked, giving the armor one final adjustment. "If this thing holds its own against Goliath, I'll be coming back for maintenance."
Welf let out a short laugh. "Damn right you will. Just don't bring it back in pieces."
With that, Felis gave him a nod and stepped out of the smithy, his new gear settling comfortably against his body. Now, all that was left was gathering supplies for the expedition.
---
By the time Felis finished gathering his supplies, the sky had already darkened. The streets of Orario shimmered under the glow of streetlamps, adventurers and merchants bustling even at this hour. Checking his gear one last time, he slung his bag over his shoulder—it carried more than just his essentials; it carried the weight of his ambition.
"Alright, time to move."
With a measured pace, he strode toward Babel, the looming tower marking the entrance to the Dungeon. A small smile tugged at his lips as a thought crossed his mind—Hestia's ban on his tail-touching escapades would last until Frost Moon 3.
"Maybe I'll take my time before heading back this time. No need to rush immediately after Goliath."
That, and his financial situation was still in the red.
Despite earning 368,000 Valis from his last expedition, his expenses loomed over him like a persistent shadow. The 250,000 Valis sword, 155,000 Valis armor, 30,000 Valis for household funds, and supply costs from both trips… yeah, he was still running at a loss.
"I should be increasing my savings, not draining them."
But that could wait. For now, the Dungeon awaited.
---
The descent had been smooth—unnaturally so. His new sword cut through enemies like they were nothing, and while his skills were already sharp, the weapon's balance and keen edge made each battle almost effortless.
On the 17th floor, the atmosphere shifted. The air grew thick with the scent of blood and charred stone. A hellhound emerged from the shadows, its crimson eyes glowing with malevolence. Without breaking stride, Felis sidestepped its lunge, his sword flashing.
A clean arc. A sharp yelp. Then, just like that, the beast flickered and dissolved into black ash.
A minotaur bellowed in the distance, its massive frame silhouetted against the dim glow of the dungeon walls. Felis didn't slow his stride. His new sword rested easily in his grip, its balance perfect, an extension of his own body.
The monster charged, hooves cracking against the stone. A blur of movement—Felis sidestepped effortlessly, his blade flashing in a sharp, fluid arc.
A wet slice.
The minotaur barely had time to register what happened before its body collapsed, dissolving into black ash.
Felis barely spared it a glance as he grabbed the magic stone. "This trip really is easy."
It wasn't just that he wasn't escorting Narissa this time. His sword alone made all the difference—a perfectly crafted blade, far superior to the standard weapon he used before.
As he wiped his blade clean, his golden eyes flickered toward the deeper path leading to the 18th floor. It was almost midnight. If his calculations were right, the Goliath should respawn on Bloom Moon 2—which meant he had time to rest before the real challenge.
With one last glance at the fading ashes of his fallen foes, he pressed forward.
---
The golden light of morning trickled through the vast expanse of the Great Forest, filtering between towering trees and casting dappled patterns on the soft grass below. A gentle breeze carried the fresh scent of damp earth and blooming flora, blending with the distant murmur of a waterfall. Unlike the oppressive air of the lower floors, the 18th Floor had an almost surreal tranquility—an oasis within the depths of the Dungeon.
Near the riverbank where he had camped, steam curled lazily above the surface of a natural hot spring, nestled among moss-covered rocks. The water shimmered under the morning light, its warmth beckoning.
Felis let out a slow breath as he slid into the spring, the soothing heat seeping into his muscles. Here, in the heart of nature, the tension in his body slowly unraveled. He tilted his head back, golden eyes half-lidded, For now, he simply let himself exist in the moment.
After a few minutes, he let his mind shift to something more productive. With a thought, his system menu flickered into view.
[System Update]
His experience points sat at 5,538—a testament to the monsters he had cut down. He navigated through his available upgrades.
He didn't think the Goliath would become a Juggernaut like the one that rampaged through the 18th Floor in the original timeline, but this was the Dungeon. Its will was unpredictable, and if it decided to increase the difficulty of this Monster Rex fight, he would rather be prepared than caught off guard.
"Even if the Dungeon throws a curveball, I've already set up a wall before the goal."
With a silent confirmation, he finalized the upgrade—one more step toward ensuring he wouldn't be caught unprepared.
---
[Host: Felis Veltheris]
[Bronze Rewards: 5]
[Silver Rewards: 0]
[Gold Rewards: 0]
---
[Main Job]
[Basic Rank:Swordsman]
[Level: 20 (MAX)]
[Skills]
• Basic Swordsmanship Lv. 5 (MAX) Foundational stance, strikes, and parries.
• Weapon Handling Lv. 5 (MAX)
Proficient use of different types of swords.
• Footwork Mastery Lv. 5 (MAX)
Improves movement for offense and defense.
• Guard Break Lv. 5 (MAX)
A technique to weaken an opponent's defense.
• Endurance Training Lv. 5 (MAX)
Enhances stamina for prolonged combat.
---
[Side Job]
[Basic Rank: Cleric]
[Level: 1 (0/100)]
• Basic Healing Lv. 1 (0/100)
Restores minor wounds and fatigue.
• Sacred Boon Lv. 1 (0/100) Unlocks at Level 5 Temporarily enhances an ally's physical or magical abilities
• Turn Undead Lv. 1 (0/100) Unlocks at Level 10
Weakens or repels undead creatures.
• Purification Lv. 1 (0/100) Unlocks at Level 15 Cleanses minor poisons, curses, or negative effects.
• Prayer of Protection Lv. 1 (0/100) Unlocks at Level 20
Grants a weak divine barrier against attacks.
[Cleric Growth Rate Buff]
Strength: 1
Endurance: 3
Dexterity: 1
Agility: 1
Magic: 4
---
[Growth Rate Buff ]
Strength: 9
Endurance: 7
Dexterity: 7
Agility: 7
Magic: 2
[EXP: 638]
---
[Quest: Become a Level 2 adventurer ]
[Reward: Promotes Basic Rank Job to Intermediate Rank: Swordbearer (note: Other intermediate rank job will be available from gold rewards) ]
---
The moment Felis closed the system window, he let out a quiet breath, stretching his arms before rolling his shoulders. 'So the system only gives quests when certain conditions are met, huh? Well, at least it's not pushing tasks on me daily.' He had no complaints about that. It meant he could progress at his own pace without feeling like he was being herded toward a goal.
With nothing pressing to do for the moment, he decided to take a walk through the 18th Floor, taking in more of its scenery.
---
The Great Forest of Floor 18 was unlike anything found in the Dungeon's upper levels. Towering trees stretched high into the sky, their vast canopies forming a lush green ceiling that bathed the forest in soft, dappled light. The air was fresh and cool, carrying the crisp scent of moss, damp earth, and blooming wildflowers. Streams meandered through the landscape. It was easy to forget this place existed deep within the Dungeon.
A well-trodden path led him toward Rivira, the adventurer's town nestled against the cliffs in the northern part of the floor. As he walked, the chatter of adventurers filled the air—some gathered around makeshift campsites, others bartering with vendors or simply enjoying a moment of peace before returning to the depths.
"Damn, the 17th Floor was a pain," a male adventurer groaned, stretching his arms. "I swear those minotaurs are getting more aggressive."
"You just let your guard down. Didn't I tell you to watch their movements?" A female adventurer beside him crossed her arms, her tone exasperated.
Further ahead, a merchant loudly advertised his wares, "Fresh potions! Stock up before heading back in! You don't want to regret it when a monster takes a bite out of you!"
The atmosphere here was always a strange contrast—on one hand, a haven for those needing rest, yet on the other, a transitory point for adventurers seeking to dive deeper into danger.
Felis weaved through the crowd, taking in the different sights and sounds, but his mind remained focused. Tonight, he had business on the 17th Floor.
---
As the artificial light above began to dim, shifting into its nighttime phase, the 18th Floor took on a quieter atmosphere. The perpetual daylight of the Dungeon's safe haven faded into a soft, bluish glow, mimicking twilight in the surface world.
Now was the time to move.
With practiced efficiency, Felis made his way toward the massive stone stairway leading to the 17th Floor. His movements were quick but controlled—no wasted effort, no hesitation. He didn't know if anyone would come for the Goliath's respawn, but it was better to secure the battlefield before someone else arrived.
Stepping onto the 17th Floor, he was immediately greeted by its oppressive atmosphere. The air was heavier here, carrying a faint, earthy musk. Craggy rock formations stretched across the landscape, forming a maze of cliffs and winding paths. Unlike the peaceful Great Forest below, this floor held a silent tension, as if waiting for the next challenge to begin.
Felis exhaled slowly, adjusting the grip on his sword's hilt.
'No need to overthink it. I just need to get there first.'