Akira calmly collected the Infant dragon's magic stone along with the horn and several shimmering amber scales, storing them neatly into his backpack.
The adventurers nearby, who had been watching from a distance with eyes full of expectation or perhaps greed, began to quietly disperse.
They had initially assumed the solo adventurer couldn't possibly handle an Infant dragon alone.
In fact, several of them had already begun subtly repositioning themselves, waiting for the right moment to swoop in and "rescue" him—then conveniently claim the kill.
But who would have thought… one person would take it down on their own?
Apparently, after his latest status update, not even an Infant dragon could pose much of a threat to Akira.
Akira glanced around the area where the Infant dragon's rampage had left its mark. It's lingering pressure still clung to the air, causing lesser monsters to stay away for the time being.
Taking advantage of the momentary peace, Akira leaned against a thick tree trunk and pulled out the boxed lunch carefully prepared by his goddess.
A pleasant aroma drifted in the dungeon air as he bit into it, savoring both the taste and the brief calm.
After wandering the twelfth floor for quite some time, he found no sign of another Infant dragon. Instead, the dungeon decided to spice things up by spawning five silverbacks around him at the same time. That almost cost him his life.
Five silverbacks in unison were no joke—they charged at him from two different angles, fists pounding like thunder, and then lunged in from above in a coordinated assault.
Akira barely avoided getting crushed. If not for his resilience and reflexes, he might have been forced to reveal more than just swordsmanship.
And things only got worse. Because he took too long to deal with them, their roars attracted even more monsters—imps, orcs, and Hard Armoreds all came rushing in like an avalanche.
By the time Akira finished dispatching them, his arms were sore, and his sword had already started showing cracks.
As he brought his blade down to slash at a rolling Hard Armored, the one-handed sword he'd purchased for a whopping 150,000 Valis finally gave up.
The blade snapped in half with a metallic cry of protest.
Akira stood in silence for a moment, staring at the broken remains of his beloved weapon.
He bent down, calmly collected the fragments, and tucked them away in his bag with a sigh.
He would have them reforged at one of the Hephaestus familia's shop later.
"…Damn it, this is absurd! I don't want to play anymore!!" He shouted, half in frustration, half in mock despair.
Donning his hood to obscure his identity, Akira made sure not to reveal that he was a magic user. Drawing his staff would be too risky. For now, he'd fight with raw magic power alone.
The magic power in his body surged, converting into frost energy. Dozens of massive, cone-shaped icicles formed above him, suspended like divine spears.
Akira pointed forward.
The lances screamed downward, skewering the charging orcs with deadly precision.
Raising his hands skyward, he willed flame into existence. Three rows of fiery columns erupted from the earth like volcanic geysers.
Imps and freshly spawned silverbacks wailed in agony, consumed in searing light, reduced to charred ash.
Then, pressing his palms together, a magic circle spun into existence above him.
Dozens of spectral Ice Swords manifested mid-air, glimmering with blue light.
A whirlwind formed at his feet, lifting his body into the air. Then, with a sweeping motion, Akira directed the Ice Swords toward his enemies.
The blades surged forward, piercing skulls, torsos, or limbs.
Changing into Swift Master, Akira darted through the battlefield with blinding speed, slicing through the horde while simultaneously gathering materials and magic stones.
"I'll head to the thirteenth floor and see what kind of beasts are waiting there."
From the thirteenth floor onward, the terrain shifted dramatically.
The ceiling rose even higher, and passages twisted through the stone like veins in a living organism.
Unlike the simple layout of the upper floors, these caves led not only to different rooms but sometimes straight down to lower floors through vertical holes. The place was a true maze, both horizontally and vertically.
Akira didn't plan to go too deep for now. But as he entered a wide cave, dozens of glowing crimson eyes glared back at him.
Rabbit-like monsters with snowy white fur, nearly human-sized.
They looked cute but don't be fooled. They were battle maniacs.
Individually, they weren't dangerous. A Level 1 adventurer could take one down alone. But in groups, they were recognized as Level 2.
Worse, they carried tiny hand axes, useful for both melee and throwing.
But their most iconic trait?
A relentless will to fight to the bitter end.
"Squeak... Squeak..." ×N
Akira pulled out a spare one-handed sword from his [Backpack], infused it with magic power, and charged into the mass of hopping maniacs.
A minute later, he was crouching, digging out magic stones from the limp, fur-covered corpses.
Despite being chopped in half, several Almiraj had still attempted to hurl their axes at him mid-death. It was... impressive in a way.
At this moment, he suddenly heard cracking sounds from the cave walls.
Several pitch-black hounds leapt out of the darkness, snarling.
The first two charged in with bared fangs, jaws wide, while the rest opened their mouths—fire beginning to flicker inside.
Hellhounds were on the weaker end of the middle-floor monsters, but their fire breath had claimed the lives of many overconfident adventurers.
That's why most carried a Salamander Wool protection when exploring these levels.
Akira, without such luxury, met the bites with his blade and released another round of Ice Swords with his free hand, slashing open the hounds' throats.
Twin flames burst toward him.
Akira instinctively summoned a towering ice wall, blocking the inferno just in time.
Then he charged forward, flipped mid-air, and with a flash of sword light, decapitated both flaming beasts in one elegant motion.
Akira looked down, horrified. Several blackened holes marred the outfit Alise had lovingly bought for him.
His skin was unharmed, protected by his magic, but the damage to the clothes was irreparable.
"Those flames! They got my clothes!" He wailed internally.
Among all the monsters on the thirteenth floor, only the hellhound's flame had proven troublesome to him. So, he decided it was best to retreat and prepare before pushing deeper.
Just as he ascended the stairway from the thirteenth to the twelfth floor, his gaze caught sight of a familiar green figure ahead.
She had sensed him, too. The figure turned—golden eyes locking with his.
Ais Wallenstein stood quietly, her expression unreadable.
Riveria, noticing Ais had stopped walking, raised an eyebrow. She followed Ais's gaze and spotted a young half-elf adventurer.
"Do you know him?" Riveria asked, crouching slightly.
Ais tilted her head, nodded, and then shook it.
"He gave me two red bean cream-flavored potato balls. He's a good person." She said softly.
Riveria sighed deeply and said, "Don't just take food from strangers… and don't judge someone's character based on snacks, either."
Akira, intent on simply slipping past as an anonymous passerby, had already turned to leave—when Ais suddenly grabbed his sleeve, forcing him to halt.
He turned around slowly, a helpless smile tugging at his lips.
"Aren't these Sword Princess and Nine Hell? What business might you two have with a lowly adventurer like me?" He asked, raising a brow.
Ais met his gaze, frowning slightly.
She asked, "Good evening. Why are you avoiding me? What's your name?"
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