A heavy, suffocating silence—not peace, but anticipation.
The cavern stretched vast and unyielding, its uneven terrain illuminated by the cold, eerie glow of the ceiling crystals. Crumbled stone structures dotted the landscape, remnants of past battles fought on this floor. It was unfamiliar territory to them, a place where only the strongest dared to tread.
And yet, they were here.
Takemikazuchi Familia stood among a larger party, their role simple: escort and assist. The commission to transport supplies to the 18th floor had been entrusted to Ironbark Familia, one known for its solid reputation. Theirs was a supporting role—carrying loads, setting up camp, broadening their experience. It was not their fight.
But then—the Dungeon trembled.
Chigusa gasped, gripping her weapon tighter. The ground beneath them shuddered violently, cracks splintering across the stone as a sound like distant thunder rolled through the cavern.
Something was coming.
A surge of magic pulsed through the air. The walls groaned, the very foundation of the floor reacting. It wasn't an ordinary monster spawn—this was different. The Dungeon itself convulsed as if straining to give birth.
And then, with a deep, guttural growl—the Goliath emerged.
Massive. Towering. More than anything they had imagined.
A hulking mass of muscle and blackened flesh, its glowing red eyes seethed with primal hatred. Each movement sent tremors through the cavern, its presence suffocating in its sheer enormity. It stood there, a living calamity, fists clenching, exuding raw, crushing power.
Mikoto inhaled sharply, her eyes widening. "So this is... the Floor Boss of the 17th Floor."
"By the Gods..." Ouka muttered, gripping his spear with white-knuckled fingers. His heart pounded violently in his chest.
They had never seen one before. Never felt something like this before. It was one thing to hear stories—another to stand in the presence of Orario's living nightmare.
And yet—someone stood before it. Alone.
Their eyes locked onto the solitary figure at the center of the battlefield.
A young man.
Dark-haired. Golden-eyed. Feline ears twitching as his tail curled in anticipation.
He wasn't retreating. He wasn't even flinching.
He exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders. Completely unfazed.
"...Who is that?" Chigusa whispered.
No one had an answer.
Then, the Goliath roared—a deafening, earth-shaking sound that made the cavern tremble.
And the battle began.
---
Shock. Awe. Disbelief.
Mikoto's breath hitched as the Goliath lunged, its massive arm swinging down like a hammer of destruction. The sheer force of the movement made the air tremble, and even from a distance, she could feel the weight behind that blow.
A direct hit would turn a person into pulp.
But the golden-eyed adventurer—he wasn't there.
A blur of motion—his body twisted, sliding just past the impact as the ground exploded beneath the monster's fist. Rock splinters shot out like shrapnel, yet he moved with unnatural precision, fluid and unshaken.
Then came the counterattack.
His blade lashed out—once, twice, three times—all strikes landing at the same point. Precision. Intent. It wasn't wild flailing but something deliberate, calculated. The sound of steel striking flesh rang out in quick succession.
But the Goliath didn't even flinch.
Chigusa swallowed. "It's... regenerating too fast."
Ouka gritted his teeth. 'How was he supposed to win if the damage just vanished?'
Then—a shift.
The Goliath moved faster than expected, its massive hand swiping sideways. The dark-haired adventurer barely managed to twist out of the way, but the sheer force of displaced air hit him like a wall, knocking him slightly off balance.
He flipped in midair—landed in a crouch—but the Goliath's foot came crashing down.
Mikoto's heart stopped. 'He was going to be crushed—!'
But at the last possible moment—he was gone again.
His golden eyes gleamed as he darted back into the fray, movements sharp and focused. He wasn't just dodging anymore—he was setting something up. Chipping away, forcing a reaction.
"...He's targeting the same spot," Ouka realized aloud.
Mikoto frowned, watching more closely. Was that intentional? The way he struck—every slash, every impact—it wasn't just about dealing damage. He was testing something. A warrior's instinct? Some kind of personal technique?
But whatever his plan was—
It was working.
The Goliath's movements grew uneven, its stance shifting awkwardly. It wasn't just taking hits anymore—it was being forced to react.
Ouka clenched his fists. "He's getting close!"
Then—CRASH.
The Goliath slammed both fists down in a brutal double-hammer strike. The shockwave alone was enough to send them stumbling where they stood. The sheer impact cratered the ground—if he had been even a second slower, there'd be nothing left of him.
Chigusa gasped. "Where is he?!"
A blur—skidding across the cavern floor.
Mikoto's stomach twisted as she saw him struggling to his feet, blood trailing down his side. The monster had landed a blow.
'That one hurt.'
But then—light.
A deep, shimmering blue glow enveloped his hand, spreading across his body.
The wound closed.
Mikoto's breath hitched. "Healing magic—?"
The soft glow of blue light faded, and the gash that had been torn across his side vanished. Not a scar, not even a trace of the injury remained.
"That's…" Chigusa's voice faltered, her hands gripping the fabric of her sleeves.
Impossible.
Ouka's mouth went dry. A solo adventurer with healing magic? He wasn't just using it to support others from the backline—he was fighting on the front, alone, against a Floor Boss.
"That's not just rare," he muttered, his throat tight. "That's insane."
Healing magic was already uncommon, a gift reserved for a fortunate few. But those who had it? They were always healers, positioned far from the battle, their lives too precious to risk in direct combat.
But this man—
He wasn't retreating. He was pressing forward.
Challenging the Goliath alone.
Mikoto swallowed hard. 'Who was he?'
The Goliath had stopped.
It knew.
Even that mindless monster, a beast crafted by the Dungeon's will, could recognize something unnatural about its opponent.
Then—the charge.
The adventurer lunged first. His movements were even sharper now, his sword flashing as he dove back into battle.
This wasn't recklessness.
This was confidence.
And for the first time—she wondered if that confidence was justified.
---
Their attention was locked on the relentless assault of the lone adventurer.
Fast. Precise. Unyielding.
He moved like a shadow given form, weaving through the Goliath's devastating blows with an almost unnatural grace. Every strike of his sword landed with lethal intent, hammering the same spot over and over, as if he were carving through the monster by sheer will alone.
Then—
CRACK.
The sound tore through the battlefield.
Ouka's breath caught as he watched the Goliath's massive leg give way. The reinforced muscle, once seemingly unbreakable, fractured.
"He's… breaking it down," Mikoto whispered in stunned realization.
The colossal monster staggered, its balance thrown off. It wasn't just damage—it was working.
The adventurer moved without hesitation. His tail snapped behind him for balance as he lunged, sword poised for the decisive strike—
And then—
The Goliath's wounds vanished.
Not gradually. Not partially.
Instantly.
The Takemikazuchi Familia froze.
"What?" Chigusa gasped, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ouka's grip on his weapon tightened as he stared, unable to believe his own eyes. That wasn't just the Dungeon's natural regeneration. That was something else entirely.
The adventurer's blade struck, but instead of cleaving through weakened flesh, it met the monster's fully restored leg. The impact sent a harsh vibration up his arm—an attack that should have been the finishing blow was stopped cold.
The Goliath didn't hesitate.
Its massive fist came crashing down.
Mikoto felt her stomach lurch. 'Move!' she willed him.
He twisted mid-air, just barely avoiding the full brunt of the blow, but the sheer force of the impact sent him flying. His body slammed into the cavern wall with a sickening crack.
For a moment, the battlefield fell into silence.
Chigusa covered her mouth, horrified. Ouka took a step forward, as if he could somehow intervene. 'Was he still alive?'
Then—
A sharp exhale.
The man stood.
His body trembled—not from pain, not from fear.
From excitement.
A slow grin spread across his face, his golden eyes burning with something wild.
"What… is he?" Mikoto whispered, her heart pounding.
Across from him, the Goliath loomed—pristine, unscathed.
As if the battle had only just begun.
The adventurer wiped blood from his lips, his tail flicking behind him as he tightened his grip on his sword.
"Alright, big guy…" his voice carried across the cavern, steady, unfazed.
A tense silence gripped them.
The adventurer barely reacted.
His posture shifted—relaxed, yet poised. Like he had expected this. Like he had wanted this.
Mikoto swallowed. "He's… not afraid?"
No, that wasn't it.
The way he stood, the way his ears flicked, the way his tail moved in a slow, deliberate arc—there was no hesitation. Only hunger.
Ouka felt a shiver crawl down his spine.
"He's enjoying this."
The thought sent a strange unease through their group.
The Goliath let out a deafening roar, its massive form shifting, muscles tensing for another devastating charge.
And the adventurer?
He exhaled once.
Then he smiled.
"Guess I gotta break you twice."
The air crackled with anticipation.
The monster lunged.
The cavern trembled.
The Goliath's onslaught was relentless—every blow carving destruction into the stone, massive fists obliterating pillars, each impact ringing like a war drum. Dust and debris filled the air, the sheer force of its attacks shaking the ground beneath them.
Yet, despite the chaos, their eyes were locked on the lone adventurer.
He was a blur of motion—moving like liquid shadow, weaving through the monster's devastating swings with impossible grace. His body twisted midair, golden eyes sharp, his tail flicking in perfect rhythm with every movement. He never stopped, never hesitated—his blade flashing in precise arcs, targeting weak points with the precision of a veteran killer.
But the Goliath refused to fall.
Every wound closed as soon as it was made. Every cut, every strike—undone in an instant. Even that technique of his, the one meant to break through defenses, barely left a mark.
The dungeon itself was fighting back.
A nervous lump formed in Chigusa's throat. 'Is this… even winnable?'
And then—
He lowered his blade.
For the first time in the battle, the Goliath hesitated.
It was subtle—a shift in its stance, the briefest pause in its assault. But he saw it. And so did they.
"What's he doing…?" Ouka muttered.
He wasn't attacking. Wasn't dodging.
He was walking.
Toward the Goliath.
Not in a charge. Not in a battle stance. Just… walking. Slow. Relaxed. Like the monster in front of him wasn't a Floor Boss but something utterly beneath his concern.
The Goliath twitched.
Its instincts screamed to attack, to crush the prey before it. But its prey wasn't struggling anymore. The roles had shifted. The moment had changed.
That tiny hesitation was all he needed.
Felis vanished.
A blur of speed. A whisper of steel.
He wasn't using power anymore. No brute force. No heavy swings.
Only precision.
His sword slid through the smallest gaps in the monster's body—under the arm, behind the knee, between hardened muscle—every strike piercing through the places it couldn't reinforce.
The Goliath bellowed, thrashing—but it couldn't adapt fast enough.
Not when its opponent had stopped playing by its rules.
Then—one final thrust.
Straight at the base of its skull.
A sickening crack echoed through the cavern.
And the Goliath froze.
Then—
A tremor rocked the battlefield.
Silence.
The battlefield lay still, as if the very air had frozen in time.
The Goliath shuddered, its massive frame convulsing. The deep bellow of rage in its throat twisted—warping into something strangled, almost pained.
Then—
Black cracks raced across its flesh.
Faster. Deeper. Spreading like lightning.
The cavern itself seemed to hold its breath.
And then—
KA-CRACK!
The monster shattered.
A shockwave ripped through the stone, a storm of black ash consuming the battlefield. The sheer force sent dust and debris spiraling outward, a violent gust that nearly swept them off their feet.
Ouka raised an arm against the blast. Mikoto's breath hitched. Chigusa flinched at the rush of air, her eyes wide as the monstrous form dissolved into nothing.
It was gone.
Just like that.
And at the center of the storm—
He stood unmoving.
The nameless adventurer didn't so much as flinch as the remnants of his enemy faded into mist. His golden eyes remained fixed on the empty space where the Goliath had stood—watching. Waiting. As if ensuring that it wouldn't rise again.
Then—
A breath. Slow. Measured.
His stance eased, the tension in his shoulders unraveling.
And he…
Grinned.
"…Hah." A light chuckle escaped him as he rolled his shoulders, shaking off the last traces of strain. "Gotta admit. That was fun."
Fun.
That single word sent a shiver down Mikoto's spine.
Ouka was still gripping his weapon, as if expecting another battle to begin at any moment. Chigusa swallowed, trying to steady herself, but her fingers trembled.
None of them spoke.
Because what could they say?
They had just witnessed a lone adventurer—someone they didn't even know—challenge a Floor Boss.
And win.
Not once had he shown hesitation. Not once had he seemed afraid.
And now—he simply stretched, groaning as if shaking off nothing more than fatigue.
"Aaah… my body aches all over." He flexed his arms, his tail flicking behind him lazily. "Might as well enjoy myself in the hot springs."
The casual remark was so absurdly normal that it almost broke the trance holding them in place.
Then, as if the battle had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience, he turned away from the ruined battlefield.
Mikoto's breath caught as she watched him move—not with the exhaustion of someone who had just risked their life, but with the easy gait of a man strolling through the streets of Orario.
He stopped at a small crevice near the cavern wall, crouching to retrieve a bag he had apparently stashed before the fight.
'So he planned for this.'
Not out of fear, but efficiency.
With practiced ease, he swept up the scattered loot—monster cores, magic stones, even a few fragments of the Goliath's remains—and shoved them inside.
Then—slipping the bag over his shoulder, adjusting it with a slight shift—
He sighed.
Content.
Completely unbothered by the fact that he had just done the impossible.
Without so much as a glance in their direction, he continued toward the path leading deeper into the Dungeon.
Toward the 18th floor.
Leaving behind only stunned silence.
From behind jagged rock formations, the adventurers stood frozen.
They had seen everything.
The Goliath's monstrous regeneration. The devastating power behind every strike. And then—black cracks consuming its body, shattering it into nothing.
Mikoto's fingers tightened around her katana hilt. That… wasn't normal. A single adventurer fighting a floor boss—no, something even stronger—alone? And winning?
No one spoke. Even the seasoned adventurers from the Ironbark Familia, the group they were escorting supplies with, had gone silent. These were people with years in the Dungeon, fighters who had survived deep floors—and yet, their expressions mirrored Takemikazuchi Familia's own disbelief.
A hushed voice finally broke the stillness.
"…That was the Goliath?" One of their newer members, a younger boy, asked, voice tight.
"I— I don't know," Chikage muttered. "It looked like the floor boss, but…"
"But that thing healed. Instantly. Faster than any monster should," Ouka finished grimly.
That was the terrifying part. Monsters regenerated—but not like that. Not in the blink of an eye.
A long silence stretched between them.
Then—
"…Let's just turn around," one of the lower-level adventurers muttered. "I didn't sign up for this when I agreed to help with a supply run."
A few of them exchanged glances. Some hesitated—then quietly slipped away, vanishing back up the path, pretending they had never seen anything.
But Takemikazuchi Familia stayed.
And so did most of Ironbark Familia.
Because the 18th floor was right there—the safe zone within reach. As long as they avoided another encounter with that monster on the way back, there was no reason to waste this chance.
Still, as they steeled themselves and resumed their march, Mikoto couldn't shake the lingering unease.
That adventurer…
Just who— what— was he…?