The 19th floor sprawled before him—dense trees, uneven ground, mist curling through the undergrowth. Unlike the rigid stone corridors above, this place felt wild. And tonight, Felis was the apex predator.
His blade was already wet with blackened monster blood, his movements a blur as he cut through the first pack of Almiraj like a scythe through wheat. They barely had time to react before his sword danced between them, severing heads, slicing tendons. A flick of his tail—another pivot—his boot crushed the last one's skull before it could leap away.
'Efficient. Fast. Keep moving.'
He crouched only long enough to retrieve their magic stones, ignoring the scattered remains. Monster byproducts sold for more, sure, but they took up too much space. He wasn't here to haul bulky loot—he was here to thin the herd.
And he did.
Lygerfangs, their predatory growls turning into agonized yelps as he intercepted them mid-pounce. Sword Stags, their antlers shattering under the precise weight of his strikes. Even the occasional Unicorn, its silver mane flashing through the trees, wasn't spared.
Felis carved through the battlefield, golden eyes burning with the sheer thrill of the hunt—until something shifted.
The air around him thickened.
His ears twitched.
The distant sounds of scattered monster cries… stopped.
And then the Dungeon struck back.
A Lygerfang lunged from the shadows—larger, faster, its claws glowing with a sickly blue sheen. Felis barely sidestepped in time, the wind of its strike grazing his cheek before he drove his sword through its ribs. It snarled—not dead yet. 'Tougher hide.' He twisted the blade, forcing a pained shriek before yanking it free.
Before the body could even hit the ground—
A Sword Stag crashed in from his left.
Felis cursed, barely rolling aside as its steel-tipped antlers gouged into the tree where his head had been. No time to counter—his instincts flared—he kicked off the tree behind him, flipping over the monster's back just as a second Stag charged through. Their heads slammed together with a sickening crack.
No reprieve.
A Unicorn shrieked—lightning cracked through the mist.
Felis dove—not away, but toward it. A dangerous gamble. His body twisted mid-air, Numen Aquae already working to ease the strain as he landed in a roll—just beneath the blast.
He was moving before the creature could charge another bolt.
'Kirin Unicorn. Stronger, faster.'
He slashed upward—aiming for the throat. Too shallow. It reared back, but Felis was already following up, kicking off the ground to drive his blade into its eye socket.
The shriek it let out rattled his skull—then more howls joined in.
Dreadfangs. Three of them.
Their burning red eyes gleamed in the darkness, bodies larger than the ones before. They moved in sync, one from the left, one from behind, one launching from above—too coordinated for ordinary monsters.
Felis had no time for thought.
His tail curled tight—a reflexive balance shift—his footwork adjusted instinctively.
The first fang snapped at his arm—he slammed the hilt of his sword into its jaw.
The second raked its claws toward his back—he twisted, using the first beast as cover.
The third dropped from above—too close to dodge. He let himself fall, kicking up his legs—and the moment its belly passed over him—he kicked out, launching it into a tree with a brutal crash.
The first recovered too fast.
It lunged again—only for Felis to grab its snout mid-air and slam it into the ground, blade piercing straight through its skull.
The second snarled—he flung his dagger directly between its eyes before it could react.
The third was already on him.
Its fangs closed around his forearm—pain flared—but his other hand was already at its throat.
Aqua Benedicta.
Blue light flashed. The monster reeled back, shrieking as steam rose from its burned flesh. Felis wrenched his arm free, golden eyes flashing with cold focus as he drove his sword straight through its chest.
And then—the Dungeon escalated again.
More.
Two Kirin Unicorns. Four Ironhide Stags. Six Dreadfangs. Eight Ghost Hares.
Felis exhaled, flicking blood from his blade.
The Dungeon wasn't playing anymore.
The Ghost Hares didn't wait. They blurred toward him all at once, zigzagging unpredictably. The Dreadfangs followed right behind—not giving him any space to react.
No choice but to force the opening himself.
Felis lunged into the chaos, shifting his weight, slipping between attacks by inches. His tail flicked—a hard pivot—he used a fallen stag as a stepping stone, launching upward just as a Unicorn fired another bolt of magic.
The lightning slammed into the Ghost Hares instead.
Felis crashed down among them before they could recover—his blade a whirlwind of silver. He tore through fur, muscle, bone. His body screamed with exertion, but Numen Aquae burned through mana to keep him standing.
The last hare vanished into ash—but another Stag was already lunging.
His boot caught it mid-charge—a perfectly timed step onto its lowered antlers. He vaulted over—but the Kirin Unicorn had read him.
Lightning exploded toward him.
Felis had no time to dodge.
Instead, he twisted mid-air, curling his body inward, taking the brunt of the shock along his metal bracers rather than his core.
His vision blurred. His limbs felt numb for half a second.
But that was all the time he had.
A Dreadfang leapt for his throat.
His sword flashed up—blindly—pure instinct.
The monster's momentum carried it forward—a sharp impact, flesh parting, steel sinking deep.
A strangled howl. A violent shudder. Then its body collapsed, flickering—dissolving into black ash.
Silence.
Felis panted, vision clearing. His ears still rang from the lightning, his muscles ached from overuse, his mana reserves felt thinner than before.
And the Dungeon still wasn't done.
He could feel it.
It would keep sending more.
Not as a last resort—this wasn't a desperate counterattack.
It was escalation.
'Tch. Not worth it.'
His golden eyes swept across the battlefield—corpses dissolving, magic stones scattered. He grabbed only what mattered—every enchanted monster's loot, every crystal.
Then, without hesitation—he backed away.
His pace quickened. The trees blurred past. The Dungeon's pulse grew fainter. He exhaled through his nose, tail flicking with irritation—yet his lips quirked into something close to amusement.
"I'm not running away."
A slow smirk.
"It's called a tactical retreat."
And just like that—he was gone.
---
The warmth of the hot spring curled around him, steam rising into the cavern's dim glow. Nestled within a rocky enclave on the 18th floor, this natural oasis was one of the few luxuries the Dungeon provided—a rare haven amidst the constant cycle of battle.
Felis leaned back against the edge, golden eyes half-lidded as the heat worked its way into his sore muscles. His tail floated lazily behind him, ears twitching at the distant sounds of running water
The battle on the 19th floor had been intense. A massacre, plain and simple.
He'd carved through packs of monsters, struck down enchanted beasts, forced the Dungeon to retaliate. He left behind countless bodies—some dissolving into ash, others lingering, their byproducts untouched. He hadn't bothered with anything too bulky, just the essentials.
Whoever found it, they were in luck.
His lips curled slightly. Consider it my payment—because the 19th floor won't be peaceful after this.
Exhaling, he let himself sink deeper into the warmth. He'd earned this. The sting of lightning, the burn of exertion, the ache of relentless combat—all washed away in the heat.
Eventually, once his body felt light again, he stepped out, dried off, and made camp nearby. His tent was simple, just enough to keep out the damp chill of the cavern. He ate a quick meal—some dried meat, bread, and a water pouch—before settling in.
A full eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.
When he woke, the cavern's perpetual twilight remained unchanged. He stretched, feeling refreshed, muscles no longer sore. After packing his things, he made his way toward Rivira.
The tavern was alive with energy. Laughter, clinking mugs, the smell of roasted meat and ale filling the air. Rivira always had this kind of atmosphere—adventurers celebrating their spoils, drowning their failures, trading information.
Felis found an open seat in the corner, ordering something simple—grilled meat, fresh bread, warm cider.
As he ate, the conversations around him filtered in.
"Damn, today was a goldmine! Someone must've cleared a whole sector—there were monster byproducts scattered everywhere."
"Lucky bastard, I got the opposite! The spawn rate went crazy—got surrounded twice."
"You think that's bad? We ran into a Kirin Unicorn. Nearly wiped us out! And someone must've already injured it, because it was mad as hell."
Felis smirked slightly to himself, sipping his cider. That one was probably mine. Sorry about that.
He took his time, letting the warmth of the meal settle, enjoying the rare moment of relaxation.
By the time he left Rivira, his meal finished and his body fully rested, Felis let out a satisfied breath. Time to move.
A full nine hours—longer than planned, but necessary.
His return to the surface was swift. Efficient. He stuck to the fastest routes, bypassing unnecessary fights, slipping past adventurers still making their way down. The transition between floors blurred—18th, 17th, 16th…
As he climbed higher, the density of adventurers increased. By the time he reached the 5th floor, he adjusted his hood, keeping his presence unnoticed.
Then—
Light.
Cool evening air brushed against his skin as he stepped out of Babel. The glow of Orario stretched before him, streets alive with movement, lanterns flickering against the darkening sky.
Felis exhaled, rolling his shoulders, tail flicking lazily.
Back in Orario.
Now… time to see what Hestia was up to. But first—he needed to clean up. Walking around in battle-worn clothes? Not his style.
---
The Guild's exchange hall was quieter than usual at this hour. Most adventurers had already wrapped up their business, leaving only a few scattered figures finishing their transactions.
Felis stepped up to the counter, setting down a large sack filled with the magic crystals he'd gathered. Only normal ones—no enchanted cores, no monster byproducts. Even so, the sheer weight of it made the wooden surface creak slightly.
The clerk—a bespectacled woman with tired eyes, likely on the last stretch of her shift—blinked at the amount before sighing. 'Great, another late-night adventurer bringing in a mountain of loot.'
"Processing might take a while," she said, already pulling out the necessary paperwork.
Felis just nodded, folding his arms as she began sorting the crystals into the measuring scales. One by one, the values were recorded, the total steadily climbing.
It wasn't until her eyes flicked to the Guild registry—cross-referencing his record as part of the verification process—that her posture stiffened slightly.
"…Felis Veltheris," she murmured under her breath, eyes glancing up at him now with renewed scrutiny. A solo adventurer, not particularly well-known in the upper circles, but this amount—
"You brought in quite the haul," she finally said, keeping her tone neutral. "Did you dive alone?"
He tilted his head slightly, offering a small, unreadable smile. "Would you believe me if I said no?"
The clerk hesitated, then shook her head. "Not really."
By the time the calculations were done, the total value stood at 960,000 Valis.
She reached under the counter, retrieving several large gold coins—each worth 10,000 Valis—along with a mix of smaller denominations to round out the balance. The weight of the payout was substantial, even for someone used to handling money.
Felis took the pouch with a casual ease, giving it a light toss before securing it to his belt.
"All set," the clerk confirmed. "Try not to push yourself too hard."
He gave a small nod. "I'll keep that in mind."
With that, he turned and left the exchange hall, stepping into the cool Orario night.
A few minutes later, he returned.
The same clerk blinked in mild surprise as Felis approached the counter again—but instead of another heavy sack, he placed down a neatly wrapped box.
"…What's this?" she asked, brows furrowing slightly.
"A small thank-you," he said, golden eyes calm but sincere. "I know Guild workers can't accept money, so—something else instead."
She hesitated, then carefully unwrapped the edge of the package, revealing a freshly made slice of fruit cake from a well-known bakery near Babel.
For a moment, she simply stared. Then, almost reluctantly, she let out a small breath of laughter.
"You didn't have to do this."
"I know," Felis replied, already turning toward the door. "But you looked like you could use something sweet. Enjoy."
And with that, he was gone, vanishing back into the streets of Orario.
---