Thunder cracked—not from the sky, but from guns hold by both Luthar and Freya
Monsters screamed and fell, torn apart by torrents of explosive rounds. Their bodies crumbled into ash and steaming ichor, coating the stone floor in foul-smelling residue.
Luthar Cogbane stood at the center of it all, unmoved. Cloak fluttering in the backdraft, his eyes remained cold and precise, calculating each shot with inhuman clarity. Overhead, a combat servo-skull hovered in lazy arcs, barking binaric alerts as it tracked movement and heat signatures.
At his flank, Freya—goddess of beauty fired without hesitation. Her sleek firearm discharged with rhythmic bursts, cutting down beasts that dared approach.
"Ammo reading at forty-seven percent," she called, ducking behind a jagged stalagmite that cracked under her divine weight.
"Use controlled bursts. We're nearly through," Luthar replied coolly, his voice devoid of fatigue.
The final wave struck.
Deformed Minotaurs—starved, wild-eyed—swarmed alongside kobolds frothing with bloodlust. A malformed ogre, its flesh rotting mid-movement, charged from the rear.
Freya shifted fluidly to intercept the flanks, her gun humming with celestial energy. Luthar aimed and unleashed a searing blast from his plasma gun. The ogre never reached them—its upper body atomized in a flash of white-hot energy, leaving molten bone and cinders in its place.
The Dungeon fell deathly still.
Luthar stood, reloading with precision. The hiss of pressurized gas venting from his gauntlets was the only sound that lingered.
Freya lowered her weapon slowly, her eyes taking in the carnage. "How long has it been…" she murmured, her voice thoughtful. "Since I've had to personally stain my hands."
Her gaze settled on the still-smoking gun in her hand. She smirked. "Still... this was fun."
Luthar didn't respond. He was already scanning the walls—marking natural seams, calculating layout patterns.
"We're already on the 16th floor," he said at last. "Signs match records. If Bell and the others successfully descended here. The 18th is the only place we need to go."
Freya's brow arched, as she didn't want to end the journey so quickly.
Without any other word, Luthar began walking.
The air grew still—uncannily still.
Luthar and Freya stepped cautiously into the expansive, hollow space of the 17th floor. The oppressive tension of the previous floor fell away, replaced by a vast silence. The only sound was the distant drip of condensation and the soft crunch of their boots against stone.
No monsters. No movement.
Freya's voice was soft. "This is the Goliath's domain..."
Luthar nodded slightly. " at least we don't have to fight him."
His servo-skull hovered in tight, lazy circles. Its scanners pulsed blue—searching, verifying the absence of threats.
"come on this could be a great advertisement," Freya murmured. "Only one monster rules this floor. And if you use your weapons to kill him, everyone would come to you to buy them."
"it's pointless, as most people won't be able to afford it," Luthar said. His gaze flicked over craters in the stone—"As "for adventurers who can afford it, they are not interested in something which won't increase their strength."
"or maybe they are just poor, as even if guns cannot be used for leveling up, they can still be used for self-defense in deeper flowers," Freya replies as she examines the gun earlier she just thought it was an interesting tool, but only after using it in a battle did she understand how convenient this thing was with just a little practice, she has killed more monsters than most adventurers.
Luthar gave no answer as
Both of us moved across the arena floor, walking over scorched earth.
As there was nothing on the 17th floor, they quickly made their way to the 18th floor. Compared to the previous floor, this was unnaturally serene. Light filtered through, fed by luminescent moss and glowing stones. A waterfall whispered in the distance, mist rolling over ancient stone.
Luthar paused, senses flaring, as he spotted Lyra, the elf with silver hair and sharp eyes. Though petite in form, she was also looking around as Her gaze spotted Luthar, she had a surprised expression.
Luthar made his way front of her, followed by Freya getting near.
"Why are you here?" Luthar said, voice low and firm. " for your level, shouldn't you stay on first floor and kill the goblins?"
Lyra raised a brow, unimpressed. "why should I stay on first floor? let me tell you, I am pretty strong."
"Pretty strong if my information is correct, you're still level 1."
Before she could respond, a voice echoed from the trees.
"Cogbane... I didn't expect you here."
Riveria Ljos Alf emerged from a grove, expression carefully measured. Her eyes studied him, calculating.
"I thought your operations stayed in the upper city."
"They did," Luthar answered. "But I follow utility. And right now, my investment is down here."
Riveria exhaled slowly. "You must be talking about Bell and his group being safe—for now. They arrived barely conscious an hour ago. we have given them some treatment, but they have gone unconscious."
Luthar's gaze narrowed. "Where is Liliruca?"
Riveria hesitated for a moment, then gestured. "Inside the tent, but before I take you inside, I have a question: are you 2 the only ones who have arrived?"
"For now they are the only ones, but," Luthar said, already moving. " others should also be arriving."
After hearing the answer, Riveria told them their camp was modest but structured—tents erected with flickering magical lanterns illuminating the natural alcoves of the 18th floor. Elves and adventurers moved with practiced discipline, though some spared wary glances at Luthar and Freya as they passed.
Riveria led them through the main path.
"She's inside," she said, drawing aside a heavy flap of reinforced cloth.
Within the tent, the air was warmer. A faint herbal scent hung in the air, masking the sour tinge of blood and exhaustion. Liliruca lay on a makeshift cot, her face pale, breathing shallow.
Luthar stepped to her side silently. he began scanning her condition—mechanical lenses sliding into place over his eyes, casting spectral diagnostics.
" just few broken bones and Muscle fatigue, probably Stress trauma." He muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. "But she'll recover."
Freya stood at the edge of the tent, arms crossed, watching with an unreadable expression. "Looks like She pushed herself too hard."
He turned toward the tray of salvaged equipment. His brow furrowed.
"where is har equipment like armour chainsword and a gun?"
Riveria tilted her head. "Well i have to remove the armor so I can bandage it. as for the gun, I haven't seen it. that chainsword should be around."
Luthar's eyes narrowed. "I guess I have to wait till she wakes up to find out what happened with the gun."
A voice spoke from behind them.
"If you're talking about the spiked sword... Ais took it."
They turned. Lefiya stood at the tent entrance, arms awkwardly folded. "She seems to be quite interested in that thing. She's with Finn and Gareth, checking the perimeter."
"I just hope she doesn't break it," Luthar said simply.
As they exited the tent, Riveria walked beside him. "You seem to be more concerned about the equipment than a person," she said quietly.
"It's easier to fix people than equipment," Luthar replied without hesitation.
Freya smiled faintly, but said nothing.
All five of them stepped away from the tent and moved into the open clearing beyond. They spoke of other matters—strategies, supplies, and the weakened state of the Dungeon.
But Luthar's mind remained fixed—on the future events
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