Author:
All right so first off, as you all know, I follow the anime as the base for my chapters. But I do like to remind that I won't be strictly following that set up. So don't be surprised when the following scenes aren't like the one in the anime, I'll be tweaking it a bit. Since I found myself having an easier time doing that.
Lastly, after this, I'll just have to rewatch episode 5~10 of season 2 so that I can see where I can cut corners. If I were to give an estimate for how many chapters left before the true season 2 of my work starts, I say around minimum of 2, maximum of 4 more chapters.
For my webnovel readers, you guys might find this first part boring. If you guys did, the war game begins on the second part—since I have to separate this chapter into two parts again because it's too long, 18k words for the entire chapter—so you guys can skip this and hop into that.
∆∆∆∆
The deeper floors of the Dungeon did not welcome visitors; they tolerated them only until the stone could find a way to swallow them whole.
As Yuuya descended past the safety thresholds of the middle floors, the environment underwent a drastic, hostile evolution. The damp, organic caverns of the upper levels gave way to the cold, massive architecture of the deep zones.
By the time his boots touched the threshold of the 37th Floor, the world had transformed into the White Palace—a sprawling, labyrinth fortress of pure white stone that felt less like a natural cavern and more like the interior of a colossal, dead monument.
Yuuya walked down the grand, ivory-colored corridor, the dark grey tails of his new Goliath Scarf swaying rhythmically against his legs. The silence of the floor was absolute, broken only by the steady, unhurried thud of his own footsteps.
Eventually, the corridor opened up into a vast, cavernous chamber that stretched as far as the eye could see.
This was the throne room of the Floor Boss, Udaeus. Usually, a towering, skeletal behemoth would be ruling over this expanse, surrounded by an army of spartois. Today, however, the massive stone throne sat entirely vacant.
As one would know, Ais Wallenstein has defeated it solo just recently. The great monster was still locked in its respawn interval, its massive magic stone slowly reforming somewhere deep within the ceiling matrix.
Yuuya paused at the edge of the empty chamber, his eyes scanning the destruction with a critical, detached gaze.
"She really did a number on this place." Yuuya murmured, his hand resting casually on the hilt of Kurotsuki.
Within his mind, the system's voice echoed, shifting away from its usual frantic energy into a more calculated, focused tone.
[Yeah, the Sword Princess didn't leave much behind. Udaeus won't be punching his time card for a while. Normally, we'd be heading down to the 39th or 40th floor to find something worth your time. What's the play? You said we're staying here?]
'We don't have the time to hunt scattered monsters in the deeper labyrinths.' Yuuya replied internally, his mental stride never wavering. 'Deep-floor exploration takes days of tracking and navigating. The War Game deadline is ticking, and what I need right now isn't exploration. It's immediate stats.'
He turned away from the empty throne room, navigating a massive side—thoroughfare that branched off from the main boss chamber. The white stone walls around him began to widen, the architecture shifting from restrictive corridors to a massive, circular perimeter.
'And there is only one place in this entire floor that guarantees an endless supply of targets.'
[Ah. The Colosseum,] the system remarked, a low hum of realization rippling through their mental link. [The absolute dead zone. No safety areas, no hidden corners, and the moment a monster drops, the Dungeon just spawns two more to take its place. The dungeon's failed experiment. Are you sure about this? Your endurance stat is going to take a beating.]
'That's exactly the point.' Yuuya thought dryly.
A few more paces brought him to the grand entrance of the infamous arena. The Colosseum was an immense, multi-tiered amphitheater carved directly out of the white stone.
The central floor was wide enough to house a small army, covered in a ancient layer of grey dust, dried monster ash, and the faint, dark stains of centuries old blood.
The moment Yuuya's boot crossed the threshold and stepped onto the main floor of the arena, the very atmosphere of the Dungeon shifted.
Dungeon: yo man, I've been waitin' for ya.
The walls of the Colosseum didn't just spawn monsters; they practically bled them. The white stone surface of the upper tiers began to crack and bubble, the purple luminescent veins of the Dungeon glowing violently as the maze recognized an intruder.
A low, collective growl echoed from the shadows of the arena. From the walls, the ceilings, and the arched entryways, dozens of figures began to manifest simultaneously.
Lizardman Elites, their scales thick and shimmering like iron armor, brandished heavy stone halberds. Loup Garous, the vicious, bipedal wolf monsters known for their blinding speed, bared their fangs, their crimson eyes locking onto the lone human standing in the center of the ring. Alongside them, skeletal Sparatoi crawled out of the stone, their bony hands gripping rusted broadswords.
Within ten seconds, Yuuya was completely surrounded by a tightening ring of Level 4 tier monsters.
Yuuya stood perfectly still in the center of the stadium. Here, deep below the surface, removed from the prying eyes of the Guild, the gods, and the citizens of Orario, he didn't need to hold back. He didn't need to perform the tedious, exhausting mathematics of a fake Level 3 baseline.
He slowly let go of his restraints.
A heavy, invisible pressure instantly detonated from his frame. The sheer, unbridled aura of his true Level 4 status rippled across the dusty floor, kicking up a small circle of grit around his boots. His dark eyes lost every trace of casual indifference, hardening into a cold, lethal focus.
With a soft, metallic click, Yuuya drew Kurotsuki from its scabbard. The dark katana gleamed with a predatory light under the dim illumination of the arena.
"No holdbacks, no paperwork." Yuuya muttered, adjusting the thick fold of his Goliath Scarf.
"Let's begin."
The Loup Garous were the first to break out of the line. Animated by pure, savage hunger, three of the wolf monsters launched themselves off the upper stone tiers, their bodies turning into grey blurs as they descended upon Yuuya from three separate angles, their claws extended to shred him to ribbons.
Yuuya didn't even lift his sword to parry. Instead, his left hand snapped outward, his palm opening toward the descending beasts.
•Gospel•
The shockwave slammed into the mid-air attackers with the weight of a falling meteor. The sheer pressure instantly crushed their ribcages, shattering their bones before they could even let out a whimper, sending them crashing back into the white stone walls as a shower of black dust and fractured magic stones.
Before the dust could even settle, the line of Lizardman Elites charged forward in a synchronized phalanx, their heavy halberds cutting through the air in a sweeping executioner's arc.
Yuuya moved. He didn't retreat; he lunged directly into the teeth of the vanguard.
His speed was terrifying. To the monsters, he simply vanished from his position, reappearing well within the reach of the Lizardman.
Kurotsuki flashed in a single, horizontal crescent. The blade didn't use the blunt spine this time; the razor sharp edge cleaved cleanly through the reinforced stone halberds, cutting through the iron like scales and torsos of the four vanguards in a single, fluid stroke.
The monsters dissolved into ash before their upper torsos could even hit the cobblestones.
[On your left.]
Two Sparatoi dropped from a high pillar, their rusted swords aimed directly at Yuuya's exposed neck.
Yuuya didn't alter his stance. He simply swerved his shoulder slightly, allowing the heavy, dark grey fabric of the Goliath Scarf to take the brunt of the impact.
The rusted blades struck the layered hide of the goliath scarf, but instead of cutting through, the weapons bounced off the dense material with a dull, useless thud, failing to leave even a scratch on the treated hide.
Yuuya pivoted on his heel, his katana drawing a flawless vertical circle that sheared both skeletons cleanly in half, their bones clattering harmlessly against the ground.
But the Colosseum lived up to its terrifying legend. The moment those ten monsters died, the white stone walls vibrated with renewed malice.
The purple veins glowed brighter, and twenty more magic stones began to gestate within the walls. More growls, louder screeches, and the heavy thud of incoming reinforcements echoed from every tier of the stadium.
A vicious, cold smirk finally broke across Yuuya's face as he looked at the rising tide of monsters.
He didn't care about the numbers. In fact, the more they spawned, the better. His stamina was immense, his focus was absolute, and his blade was hungry.
"Come on." Yuuya whispered, his voice cutting through the rising chorus of monster roars as he shifted into a low, aggressive stance. "Don't make me wait now."
With a powerful thrust of his legs, he threw himself back into the fray, turning the arena into a private, relentless slaughterhouse.
The ring of steel, the thunderous booms of his sound magic, and the endless shattering of magic stones began to echo through the empty halls of the 37th floor, starting a grueling, symphony of absolute violence.
∆∆∆∆
A lot of time has passed ever since Yuuya started and the white stone floor of the Colosseum had long since disappeared beneath a thick, choking carpet of grey monster ash.
To anyone else, the 37th Floor was a legendary death trap, a place where even first class adventurers trod with absolute carefulness. For Yuuya, it had devolved into a blur of monochromatic slaughter.
He had lost track of the hours. Day and night meant nothing down here; there was only the rhythmic, mechanical cycle of the Dungeon's walls bubbling open, spawning iron scaled threats, and Kurotsuki shearing through them before they could draw breath.
Thwack. Squelch. Shatter.
A Lizardman Elite's severed head hit the stone, dissolving into black dust before it could even bounce. Yuuya didn't look at it. He simply pivoted on his left heel, the long, dark grey tails of his Goliath Scarf whipping through the air like twin scythes as he cleared the path behind him.
A sharp, stabbing ache flared deep within his quadriceps, forcing a rare, microscopic twitch from his eyebrow.
[Warning.] the system's voice echoed in his skull, completely stripped of its usual sarcastic cadence. [Keep doing that and you'll be worn out before you even know it.]
Yuuya breathed out a thin plume of hot vapor, his chest heaving under his dark armor.
'I'll be fine. How my passive skill holding up?'
[Your Regen skill is practically screaming, boss. It's pulling double shifts trying to patch the tears in your body while simultaneously refilling your mana tank. But Regen is a reactive loop. It fixes what you break. Right now, you aren't just breaking yourself against the monsters—you're breaking yourself against your own potential.]
'Good.' Yuuya thought, his fingers tightening around the leather wrap of his hilt until his knuckles went stark white. 'That means we're right on target.'
The physical exhaustion wasn't the product of the endless horde. A Level 4 of Yuuya's caliber could cleave through Level 4 monsters for hours if he maintained his standard pacing.
The true weight dragging down Yuuya's limbs was the invisible, crushing gravity of Limit Off.
Yuuya didn't only come here to raise his stats, he also came here to master Limit Off.
As we know, whenever Yuuya shifted into total combat seriousness, his consciousness didn't just sharpen—it entirely disconnected from reality.
He could enter the "zone" or flow state at a whim, a terrifying psychological trait that allowed him to see the trajectory of a blade or the muscle contraction of a beast or human alike before it even occurred.
But that absolute mental clarity came with a biological tax. To match the accelerated processing of his mind, his body was forced to bypass its natural physical safety locks. That was the essence of Limit Off. It was a state that forced his muscles to exert one hundred percent of their mechanical capability without the brain's built in dampeners protecting the bones and joints.
The drawback was simple and potentially fatal: it gave him a strict, invisible countdown. Fight seriously for too long, and his own strength would literally rip his muscles from the bone. In other words, it puts his body in an unimaginable strain.
'It doesn't make sense.' Yuuya muttered internally, parrying a savage downward strike from a Loup Garou and driving his elbow into its throat. 'The flow state is entirely natural to me. I don't have to force the focus. If the mind can live there permanently, Limit Off shouldn't be straining me.'
[You're trying to domesticate a wild animal, crackhead.] the system countered dryly. [Limit Off is not naturally occurring, only a handful of people are known to experience it. Right now, you're trying to turn it into a passive light switch. Even the legendary mage Alfia who's always in a state of Limit Off knows how much strain it puts on the body. Simply put, your body is used into entering the zone, but it wasn't used to the boost in strength that it comes with; which you previously have no experience off.]
'Then I'll just have to build an immunity huh.'
Just then, three Sparatoi knights lunged from the upper tiers, their rusted broadswords tracing lethal geometric paths toward his skull.
Instead of executing a standard evasive slip, Yuuya closed his eyes for a fraction of a second. He let the noise of the arena—the screeches, the clattering of bone, the rushing wind—fall into a dead, hollow silence. He stepped directly into the center of his own consciousness.
Click.
The world snapped back into vivid, agonizing detail. The incoming blades didn't just slow down; they practically froze mid air, their metal grains visible to his dilated pupils. He has entered Limit Off.
A horrific, burning sensation immediately flooded his nervous system, starting from the base of his skull and tracing down his spine like liquid lead. The small capillaries in his eyes ruptured, turning his white sclera into a web of crimson. His heart hammered against his ribs with the terrifying speed of a pneumatic drill.
"Ah..." Yuuya let out a low, gravelly rasp through his teeth.
He didn't move away from the blades. He accelerated through them.
Flash.
Kurotsuki moved with such violent velocity that the air in the center of the Colosseum literally imploded. A sharp, supersonic crack echoed across the white tiers as the three skeletal knights were reduced to fine white powder before their blades could even register the change in trajectory.
But the price was immediate. The skin across Yuuya's forearms split open in small, neat horizontal lines, a dark crimson mist spraying from his pores as his muscle fibers expanded past their biological tolerance.
[And that's what I'm talking about.] the system said. [You've been doing this for a while now you know?]
'It's fine, I can handle it. I've experienced worse.' Yuuya replied, his voice a flat, freezing line within his own mind. He stood perfectly still as two more Lizardmen rushed his flanks. 'Just look out for me if I get too distracted. If it breaks, mend it. If it tears, weld it. We aren't leaving this floor until I atleast master this state.'
For the next following hours, the Colosseum witnessed an exercise in pure, calculated self mutilation disguised as a masterclass in swordsmanship.
Yuuya ceased to be an adventurer hunting monsters. He became a forge, using the endless tide of the 37th Floor as the anvil and his own body as the iron.
Every time a Loup Garou snapped at his throat, he met it with Limit Off engaged. He forced his limbs to execute strikes that defied natural human mechanics, deliberately pushing past the point of pain until the burning sensation in his muscles began to shift from a warning signal into something cold, dull, and entirely familiar.
The Regen skill worked overtime, its golden, invisible warmth constantly weaving through his torn tissues, replacing broken cells with denser, more resilient fibers that had been tempered by the extreme kinetic pressure.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the feedback loop began to stabilize.
The horizontal tears on his forearms stopped bleeding. The violent shaking in his fingers after a supersonic drawing strike began to settle into a steady, solid grip. The time limit wasn't just expanding; the threshold of the burden was being ironed out by sheer, stubborn repetition.
[Well, I'll be damned.] the system murmured, its tone shifting into a reluctant, respectful hum. [ It's still placing a massive tax on your endurance stat, but the immediate self destruction? It's flattening out.]
Yuuya twirled Kurotsuki, the dark metal drawing a clean arc through a fresh wave of incoming ash. The dark tails of his Goliath Scarf were coated in grey dust, but his stance was lower, more grounded, and entirely unified.
"It's not perfectm" Yuuya whispered aloud, his voice echoing cleanly through the violent chaos of the arena. His eyes, though still a little bit bloodshot, carried a terrifyingly calm, focused light. "But it's no longer a temporary trigger. It's a part of me."
With a sudden, explosive burst of speed that left no crimson mist behind, he plunged back into the center of the stadium, his blade moving with the effortless, horrifying fluidness of a man who had finally made his limits entirely obsolete.
A few more hours passed until finally, it happened.
The transition was not marked by a sudden flash of light or a notification from the world's mechanics. It occurred in the microscopic spaces between thoughts, where the heavy friction of his own mortality simply ceased to exist.
The deliberate cycle Yuuya had imposed upon himself—the mechanical rhythm of engaging Limit Off, enduring the agonizing strain or backlash, dropping back to his baseline strength to allow his Regen skill to patch the torn seams of his flesh, and then forcing his way back in—began to blur.
The sharp, distinctive borders of the technique dissolved. He no longer felt the precise moment his nervous system bypassed its safety locks because the locks themselves had been ground down into dust.
At some point, the ambient noise of his own skull began to recede. The constant, voice of the system, shifting from a administrative voice to a low, rhythmic murmur, before finally flattening into white noise.
[Yuuya... the neural pathway... assimilation is exceeding...]
[...]
[...fusing...]
The words didn't bounce off his consciousness; they simply failed to find a surface to grip. The system's voice became nothing more than the background hum of the Dungeon itself.
With the disappearance of the internal chatter, the physical feedback loops altered. The sharp, tearing pain that had previously defined his forearms—the sensation of his Level 7 velocity ripping through a Level 4 biological framework—subsided into a cool, uniform numbness.
(Author: aight, just a quick refresh. Why level 7 some of you might ask? I believe Limit Off gives something like two level boost. For example, Alfia; she's a level 7 but has the power of level 9 since she is in a constant state of Limit Off. But then you might ask, shouldn't Yuuya then be at a strength of a level 6? Well Yuuya always maxed his stats at 1500 before levelling up. So all the way from level 1, that a total of 4500 points across all five stats. Which puts him at mid level 5 strength while being a fresh level 4.)
He was no longer a human engine tearing itself apart to maintain a high RPM; his body had accepted the output as its new native tongue.
The crimson mist stopped spraying from his pores. His boots no longer skidded by calculated inches to manage fatigue. He had stopped calculating entirely.
To any outside observer, the center of the Colosseum would have appeared completely vacant, occupied only by a localized, hurricane like distortion of dark grey and silver steel.
The dark tails of the Goliath Scarf didn't just whip through the air; they became sharp, fluid geometric lines that existed in multiple spaces at once, slicing through the incoming horde with the cold indifference of a spinning blade assembly.
When Yuuya's mind finally pulled back to a point of self-awareness, he didn't find the agonizing exhaustion he had anticipated. He found absolute stillness.
He was inside the zone, but it was a iteration of the flow state he had never encountered before. It was a profound, heavy euphoria—not the frantic, adrenaline fueled mania of a berserker, but a dead, crystalline peace where every physical law seemed to bend to his convenience.
The Colosseum had slowed down to a crawl. A Loup Garou, frozen mid-leap over a broken white pillar, hung in the air like a poorly rendered painting.
He could see the individual coarse hairs along its snout, the tiny flecks of yellow bile crystallized at the corner of its bared fangs, and the exact fault line running through the stone beneath its hind legs.
"So this is it." Yuuya thought, his voice a quiet, clear resonance within the cathedral of his own mind.
He realized then that he had been operating within Limit Off continuously for hours without a single descent back to his baseline.
The burden had vanished because the resistance had vanished. By forcing his body to live inside the absolute threshold of his intent, the physical vessel had finally stopped fighting the mind.
The technique was no longer an emergency bypass or a dangerous state he had to visit; it had become an integrated part of his biology. It was as natural as breathing.
With a movement that required no more effort than a casual tilt of his wrist, Yuuya stepped beneath the frozen trajectory of the wolf-monster.
Shuck.
Kurotsuki passed through the creature's sternum. There was no resistance from the ribs, no drag from the muscle tissue. The blade didn't feel like it was cutting flesh; it felt like it was merely correcting an error in the space before him. The Loup Garou dissolved into grey ash before its momentum could even carry its dead weight to the floor.
As the hours continued to unspool in that state of perfect, frictionless execution, his pace began to alter the very mechanics of the 37th Floor.
The Colosseum was designed as an automated meat grinder, but the loop had not accounted for a Level 4 vanguard operating with the unburdened, accelerated efficiency of a permanent Limit Off.
Yuuya's movements had outstripped the biological latency of the walls. He was destroying the Lizardmen Elites and the Sparatoi knights faster than the purple veins could pump fresh mana into the stone matrices to form their magic stones.
He would stand in a quadrant of the arena, his dark blade tracing a single, silent horizontal ring, and the entire sector would be reduced to a cloud of falling grey grit before the opposite wall could even finish opening its stone valves.
He was hunting the spawn points themselves, striking the gestating shapes while they were still nothing more than half formed silhouettes behind the stone skin of the labyrinth.
(Author: Bro was spawn camping.)
The violent, thunderous symphony of the last hours came to a sudden, jarring halt.
Yuuya stood in the absolute geometric center of the Colosseum. His dark armor was clean, the grey ash of a thousand monsters having blown past him without sticking to his frame. The long tails of the Goliath Scarf hung perfectly straight.
He lowered Kurotsuki, the tip of the blade resting an inch above the floor.
The silence that followed was heavy, ancient, and completely unnatural for the 37th Floor.
Across the vast, multi-tiered amphitheater, the purple luminescent veins that honeycombed the white walls began to flicker.
They didn't glow with their usual aggressive, rhythmic pulse; instead, the light stuttered like a dying lantern, the violet hue fading down into a dull, exhausted grey.
A massive, six meter arched entryway directly across from him began to bubble, attempting to form the iron scaled torso of a Lizardman Elite.
The stone cracked, the purple mana swirled for a brief second, and then—with a low, hollow hiss that sounded remarkably like a mechanical sigh—the wall simply closed.
The half-formed monster disintegrated back into raw, unrefined stone before its core could solidify.
The Dungeon had stopped spawning.
The internal mechanism of the floor had been pushed past its limits, forced into an unprecedented systemic cooling period. The maze was taking a breath.
Yuuya looked up at the empty, silent tiers, his expression remaining perfectly deadpan, though the faint, cold light of total mastery remained locked behind his pupils.
"Well." Yuuya murmured, his voice cutting through the stillness of the dead arena as he smoothly slid Kurotsuki back into its scabbard with a solitary, definitive click. "I suppose that counts as a successful workout."
A low, familiar chime vibrated against the back of Yuuya's mind, breaking the heavy silence of the dormant Colosseum. The white noise that had blanketed his consciousness for the last several days slowly receded, allowing the system's voice to filter through, crisp and distinct.
[Hey. Earth to Yuuya. The Dungeon is literally refusing to print any more meat for you to slice. It's time to pack it up and head back to the surface.]
Yuuya blinked. He looked down at his hands, then at the vast, empty amphitheater. There was no fatigue in his limbs, no trembling in his fingers. The only thing he is feeling right now is hunger.
The integration of Limit Off was seamless; his body felt perfectly light, perfectly aligned.
"How long was I out?" Yuuya asked aloud, his voice sounding raspy in the dead air.
[Well, let's see. You plunged into this white hellhole at exactly one month and twenty four days after the main story kicked off. Right now? The calendar just ticked over to the exact two month mark. You didn't just have a day of workout. You spent nearly a week locked in a continuous trance of absolute slaughter. You completely lost yourself in the sauce.]
"Well that explains why I feel hungry." Yuuya said as he let out a quiet huff through his nose, adjusting the long tails of his Goliath Scarf.
He opened his system inventory to get a beef jerky before he turned on his heel, leaving the silent arena behind as he began the long, vertical trek back toward the upper floors.
The ascent through the deep zones was a lonely affair, but with his newly mastered strength, Yuuya navigated the sprawling white architecture of the lower levels with effortless efficiency.
Any wandering monster that dared to manifest in his path was reduced to ash before it could fully materialize from the stone.
As he walked, Yuuya leaned his head back slightly, communicating internally with the entity anchored to his soul.
'Hey.' Yuuya thought, his mental tone shifting into a reflective, analytical line. 'Even considering my growth skill, my innate talent, and whatever hidden potential my status sheet claims I have... this rate is completely unnatural. I'm growing entirely too fast.'
[Oh, so the guy who just broke the 37th Floor's spawning code is suddenly worried about balance patches?] the system joked, its voice bouncing around his mind. [What brought this on?]
'Bell.' Yuuya replied flatly. 'I know how the story goes. I know the exact mechanics of Liaris Freese. His skill is a literal manifestation of a unyielding desire to catch up to the Sword Princess—at least on the version that I know of. On this timeline, it was his promise to Alfia to become a hero. It converts his pure feelings into an absolute, unmitigated acceleration of Excelia. Yet, even with that cheat code running in his veins, he isn't pulling numbers out of the sky at the velocity I am. Why?'
The system went quiet for a brief moment, the sound of digital static humming softly before it answered.
[It's because your growth skill doesn't operate on desire, Yuuya. It operates on perspective. Think about where you actually came from. You aren't a native of Gekai. You weren't raised in a world where gods walk the streets, magic spells are common phrases, and a living, breathing labyrinth sits beneath the pavement. You're from modern day Earth. Modern Japan.]
Yuuya cracked his neck, his boots clicking rhythmically against the stone steps of a rising staircase.
'And how does a background in concrete and convenience stores translate into an accelerated status?'
[Background my ass, you're a literal superhuman in your past life, Yuuya. Anyways, to a soul born and raised on Earth, everything happening here is a fundamental, existential contradiction or in other words, new to you.] the system explained. [Back home, you weren't fighting for your life against bipedal wolves or iron-scaled reptiles. You weren't channeling raw mana through your vocal cords to project sound waves. Every single breath you take in the Dungeon, every life or death exchange, and every mechanical movement of your blade is a completely alien, raw experience to your original baseline. Your growth skill takes that profound novelty and aggressively amplifies the Excelia harvested from it.]
Yuuya frowned slightly, his hand resting casually on the hilt of Kurotsuki as he cleared the threshold into the 30th floor.
'Isn't that just the basic definition of how Falna works anyway?' Yuuya countered dryly. 'The gods always ramble on about how Excelia is simply the accumulation of experience. High quality feats yield high quality status. That's why adventurers have to push their limits to level up.'
[Yes, but for a normal adventurer, that pipeline is a straight line from the blade to the god's ink.] the system clarified. [For you, the Excelia you harvest has to go through a massive administrative gauntlet before it ever touches your back. It's funneled through four distinct layers simultaneously.]
Layer 1: Innate Talent.
Your natural, pre-existing compatibility with anything that relates with combat.
Layer 2: Uncapped Potential.
The raw volume of space your soul has available to store power.
Layer 3: The Growth Skill.
The combination of your innate talent and massive potential in the form of a skill, the active multiplier that forces the Falna to work overtime.
Layer 4: Existential Novelty.
The massive bonus your soul receives from adapting to entirely alien physical laws and experiences.
[When you stack those four things on top of each other, a single swing of your sword doesn't just register as one unit of experience. It registers as a massive, multi-layered data packet. That's why you're rocket strapped compared to the rabbit.]
[But don't get too ahead of yourself.] the system added, its tone turning slightly smug. [The universe loves an equilibrium. The more you get used to a specific experience, the less juice your soul can squeeze out of it. The novelty wears off.]
'Show me.' Yuuya thought.
An internal projection flickered to life within his vision, displaying the crisp, glowing lines of his hidden Level 4 Falna status. He bypassed the basic information and locked his gaze onto the raw numbers.
~~~~
Strength: 712
Endurance: 745
Dexterity: 708
Agility: 730
Magic: 685
~~~~
Yuuya paused at the base of a landing, staring at the numbers with a critical eye.
"Seven hundred points across the board. For a week of non-stop slaughter in the deep floors, that feels almost reserved."
[Reserved? You really are a crackhead.] the system chuckled. [Do you have any idea how insane it is to gain over seven hundred points across all parameters in less than a week at Level 4? First class adventurers spend years crawling through the dark just to get a fifty point bump. But look at the math, Yuuya. If your growth skill didn't have a decay function, your performance down in the Colosseum would have instantly capped you out at the absolute maximum threshold of 1500 points. You would have achieved an SSS-rank status in six days.]
Yuuya closed the projection, his expression returning to its typical, unbothered calm as he resumed his walk up the stairs.
"Because I've already normalized the act of killing monsters."
[Exactly. Your soul has officially accepted the Dungeon as a workspace. The existential shock of swinging a sword against a monster is gone, so Layer 4 is starting to taper off. You're still growing at a speed that would make Loki and Freya lose their collective minds, but the curve is flattening out.]
"That's fine. What about the War Game?" Yuuya asked, his voice low as he stepped over the threshold of a higher floor. The air was beginning to feel thin and stale compared to the heavier atmosphere of the deep levels. "If I pivot from monsters to humans—if I start fighting other adventurers in a formal setting—does that trigger a reset on the novelty decay? Or is the soul just going to keep treating combat as a routine task?"
[It's not a full reset but you'll get a dividend.] the system replied, its voice drifting through the quiet corridor. [You're going to get the novelty bonus, but cut it down to about fifty percent of what you got from the Dungeon.]
Yuuya paused, his hand resting on the pommel of his blade.
"Fifty percent? Because I've 'normalized' the act of violence?"
[Exactly. Look, let's be honest about your psychological baggage. You aren't a native to this world, but you aren't a blank slate either. You have memories of a past life on Earth. Sure, you were using guns back then, and you've never held a sword to kill until you got here, but the fundamental 'truth' of killing? The cold, calculating instinct to take a life? That's not new to your soul.]
The system pulsed, a soft blue light flickering in Yuuya's peripheral vision as it pulled up a projected analysis.
[When you first entered the Dungeon, it was a complete paradigm shift. Everything—the biology, the physics, the way the world worked—was foreign. Your soul was essentially screaming in delight at the sheer impossibility of it all, which is why your growth exploded. But fighting adventurers? That's just a variation on a theme you already experienced. You're trading steel for lead, that's all. The 'Novelty' isn't the method of killing; it's the lack of familiarity with the environment.]
"So, the War Game won't give me the same bump as a week in the Colosseum." Yuuya mused.
[Not even close. If you actually had to struggle, if you were fighting someone who could genuinely threaten your structural integrity, you'd get more. But let's look at the reality of the situation.]
The system brought up a projected estimation of his upcoming growth.
[You're a Level 4 with a mastered Limit Off. The Apollo Familia is a collection of mid-tier cannon fodder and that's putting them in a high You're going to be bored, and so will your soul. I'm projecting a gain of roughly 100 to 150 points per category from the entire War Game. It's a nice little boost, sure, but it's not the 'Eina losing her mind' shattering level-up you're hoping for.]
Yuuya scoffed softly, his footsteps echoing against the damp stone as he continued his steady, efficient ascent toward the surface.
"150 points. I suppose I should be grateful that I can still grow at all, considering I'm basically going to be bullying them."
[That's the curse of being the strongest person in the room. The more you dominate, the less the world can teach you. If you want those massive stat spikes again, you're eventually going to have to stop playing with the locals and go find something that can actually hurt you. The War Game is a necessary evil for the plot, but as far as your development is concerned? It's just paperwork.]
Yuuya reached the final stone stairs leading toward the exit of the dungeon proper. He could already sense the change in the air—the faint, stale scent of the city above, the distant muffled sounds of Orario's morning bustle.
"Paperwork..." Yuuya repeated, a ghost of a smirk touching his lips as he prepared to step back into the sun. "I guess that's one way to put it. Let's go get this over with."
∆∆∆∆
A few days ago while Yuuya was busy on the 37th floor.
The room in the 30th floor of Babel where the Denatus is usually done, certainly does not resemble a sacred chamber of divine wisdom.
Instead, it bore an uncanny resemblance to a high society cafeteria where the students possessed cosmic power, infinite lifespans, and a catastrophic lack of maturity.
The Denatus or meeting for the war game between the Apollo and Hestia familia is well under way, and the air was thick of the intoxicating aroma of fresh, unadulterated gossip.
Dozens of deities leaned over polished marble tables, trading rumors like school children, while the attendants who were assigned by the Guild stood along the perimeter, universally nursing tension headaches.
At the center of the conference table, Apollo adjusted his laurels, a triumphant, blinding smile plastered across his face. He leaned back in his ornate chair, sweeping his gaze across the room until it locked onto the tiny, fuming form of Hestia, who sat directly opposite him with her arms crossed so tightly her fingers were turning white.
"Let us bypass the tedious pleasantries, shall we?" Apollo announced, his voice carrying that annoying voice that made Hephaestus rub her temples in advance. "We all know why we are gathered in this glorious circle today. The Hestia Familia has accepted my challenge. Therefore, I shall lay down my conditions with absolute transparency."
Hestia glared through her bangs, her teeth grinding loudly enough for Loki, who was sitting two seats down, to snicker into her cup of wine.
"Speak your piece, you sun baked freak. What do you want?"
"It is quite simple, my dear." Apollo purred, placing a manicured hand over his heart that sends a shiver down Hestia's spine. "When my glorious children inevitably dismantle your little household, I will be taking your investments. I want Bell Cranel, the precious little white rabbit, to grace my garden. And, of course..."
His eyes flashed with a disturbing, predatory gleam.
"...I want that dark haired, brooding vanguard of yours. Yuuya Mitsukuji. Oh, the absolute elegance he will bring to my banquets once I strip that dreadful, icy demeanor from his face."
A collective murmur rippled through the assembly. Loki slapped the table, a wide, chaotic grin spreading across her face.
"Aha! Double or nothin'! The sun god's gettin' greedy! He wants the rookie and the quiet one!"
"Shut up, Loki!" Hestia snapped, firing a death glare at the trickster goddess before turning her fiery eyes back to Apollo. She leaned over the table, her small stature completely eclipsed by the sheer gravity of her maternal rage. "And what happens if we win? What do we get when my boys drag your precious captain through the dirt?"
Apollo let out a loud, melodic laugh, waving his hand dismissively as if the very concept of his defeat was a flaw in the universe's logic.
"If you win? Oh, the sweet delusion of youth! If by some cosmic miracle your two little children survive the onslaught, I will agree to absolutely anything you desire. Wealth, land, my own divine submission—name it, and it shall be yours. I swear it upon my divine name."
"You all heard him!" Hestia shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Apollo while looking around the room. "He said anything! You! Guild assistant-kun, write that down! Hephaestus, be my witness! If he tries to back out when Yuuya breaks his shiny palace, I'm taking everything he owns down to his underwear!"
From the head of the table, Ganesha suddenly stood up, flexing his massive biceps and adjusting his elephant mask.
"I AM GANESHA! And I shall act as the impartial arbitrator of this historic wager!"
"Please Ganesha, sit down." Freya murmured from the shadows, her elegant hand supporting her chin. Her expression clearly telling that she would rather be in her room and watching her rabbit.
With the stakes officially locked into the divine record, the tension shifted to the operational details of the conflict.
Hermes stepped into the center of the room. He carried a polished wooden box with a single circular opening at the top.
"Now, now, let's keep the peace, everyone." Hermes said, shaking the box thoroughly. Inside, the distinct rattle of wooden lottery blocks echoed through the quieted hall. "As dictates the ancient laws of Orario, the specific format of the War Game must be decided by a blind draw. Neither side gets an advantage. Pure fate."
Apollo smirked, adjusting his toga.
"It matters not what the paper says. My vanguard outnumbers hers fifty to one. A skirmish, a duel, a team deathmatch—the outcome remains identical."
Hestia didn't answer, but her small fists trembled on the table. She knew the math. Even with Yuuya's terrifying hidden strength, a bad format could completely choke their options before the match even started.
Hermes plunged his hand into the box, swirling his fingers around the contents with agonizing slowness, actively milking the dramatic tension for every drop of entertainment value it was worth. Finally, with a sharp snap of his wrist, he pulled his hand free, holding a single wooden block with a rolled slip of paper pinned to the center.
"And the verdict is..." Hermes unfurled the parchment, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second before sending Hestia a apologetic look. He then held the paper high for the entire room to see. "...A Castle Siege..."
The assembly hall erupted into immediate, unmitigated chaos.
Loki literally fell out of her chair, howling with laughter as she pounded her fist against the marble floor.
"A siege?! Are ya kiddin' me?! A siege?!"
Hephaestus slammed her palm against her forehead, letting out a long, exhausted groan.
"Of all the ridiculous outcomes..."
"That's the worst yet..." Miach muttered from the back, exchanging a horrified look with Takemikazuchi. "A siege battle means one side hunkers down inside a fortified stronghold, while the other side is forced to launch a direct assault to breach the walls."
"Precisely!" Apollo cheered, pointing a finger at the rules board. "And since the Apollo Familia was the challenging party, they are designated as the defenders! They will be occupying the designated castle, fully fortified with their entire active roster of over a hundred armed adventurers!"
Apollo's smirk evolved into a full blown, triumphant cackle. He threw his arms wide, looking up at the ceiling as if thanking the heavens for his statistical fortune.
"Oh, the gods of fate truly smile upon the beautiful! A siege! Hestia, your children must cross an open field, storm my walls, and breach my gates with a grand army consisting of... let me count... ah, yes! Two people!"
Hestia's face went entirely blank. She sat frozen in her chair, the sheer absurdity of the draw finally short circuiting her brain.
Two teenagers—one white haired rookie and one quiet swordsman currently MIA in the Dungeon—were being ordered by the gods to conduct a full scale military invasion against a reinforced castle guarded by an army of second-class combatants.
"This is a joke," Hestia whispered, her voice cracking. "Hermes, you rigged the box. You absolutely rigged it!"
"I swear on my hat, I didn't!" Hermes protested, raising his hands defensively while still looking apologetic. "It's pure luck, Hestia! The Dungeon itself couldn't write a more ridiculous script!"
(Author: Yuuya would beg to differ.)
"Two people attacking a castle," Loki wheezed, wiping a tear of pure joy from her eye as she pulled herself back onto her chair. "Hey, Hestia! Maybe ya can give the kid a ladder! Or better yet, just throw the little rabbit over the wall with a catapult! This is gold! I'm buyin' front row tickets to this disaster!"
Apollo stood up, smoothing the creases of his elegant robes, his eyes locking onto Hestia with a look of absolute, unshakeable victory.
"The terms are set, the format is decided, and the date is locked. Tell your little children to prepare themselves, Hestia. I do hope they wear something fashionable for their corporate integration."
With a dramatic swirl of his cloak, Apollo marched out of the assembly hall, his laughter echoing down the marble corridors of the Pantheon.
Hestia remained slumped in her seat, staring at the empty table as the remaining gods began to loudly place their bets on how many minutes the Hestia Familia would survive before total annihilation. She squeezed her eyes shut, silently praying toward the dark, vertical throat of the Dungeon miles away.
'Yuuya... Bell...' Hestia thought, a desperate, fiery resolve slowly replacing her shock. 'You boys better be ready to flip this city completely upside down.'
∆∆∆∆
Back to the present, D-Day of the War Game.
The morning sun barely pierced the heavy layer of mountain mist pooling around the outskirts of Orario, casting long, fractured shadows across the ruins of the old, abandoned church.
The air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and the heavy, electric tension of a household preparing for war.
Hestia sat on a splintered wooden crate, her fingers nervously tracing the fabric of her dress.
Nearby, Bell paced a restless circle, his fingers constantly checking and rechecking the straps of his light armor. Lili was meticulously sorting through her oversized backpack, verifying the contents of every potion vial, while Welf leaned heavily against a half-shattered stone pillar, his eyes fixed on two cloth wrapped bundles resting at his feet.
Mikoto sat in a rubble in silent meditation, her katana laid on her side. Standing apart from them all, cloaked in the shadows of a crumbling archway, Ryuu stood like a silent sentinel, her eyes scanning the horizon with steady, elven precision.
The blue ink on Welf, Mikoto, and Lili's backs was still fresh, the divine energy of their official conversion to the Hestia Familia pulsing quietly beneath their clothes.
Thanks to the legal gymnastics and covert backroom maneuvering of Hermes, which probably includes paying mama Mia, Ryuu was permitted to stand with them as a temporary mercenary—a vital addition to a roster that was still laughably small.
The quiet rustle of shifting gravel broke the silence.
Every head snapped toward the entrance of the courtyard. Out from the morning fog walked Yuuya. His dark armor was pristine, and the long, dark grey tails of his Goliath Scarf swayed lazily.
He looked entirely too relaxed for a man who had spent the last several days buried in the deepest, most violent sectors of the lower labyrinth.
Yuuya paused at the threshold of the ruin, sweeping his eyes over the grim, anxious faces greeting him. A faint, amused smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Who died?" Yuuya asked, his voice breaking the heavy atmosphere with casual indifference. "You all look like you're standing in line for a execution. Did someone accidentally burn Hestia's secret stash of valis, or are we just practicing our brooding faces for the cameras?"
"Yuuya-bro!" Bell gasped, his shoulders visibly dropping with relief. "You're back! We were starting to worry that something went wrong down there."
"Please, the Dungeon would have to try a lot harder than that to keep me late." Yuuya replied, walking into the center of the courtyard and stretching his arms behind his head. He glanced at the new blue emblems subtly visible on Welf and Mikoto's gear. "So, I see the paperwork went through. What else did I miss while I was getting some fresh air downstream?"
Welf let out a low, rough chuckle, shaking his head as he picked up his wrapped bundles.
"A lot, man. You missed a whole hell of a lot. Let's just leave it at that."
Yuuya simply nodded, a knowing glint hiding behind his dark eyes. He knew the plot anyways and every dramatic conversation that had unfolded in the upper world while he was busy beefing with the dungeon on the 37th Floor.
"Alright," Yuuya said, leaning his weight against a stone wall and crossing his arms. "Today's the day we head to the venue. Let's talk logistics. Where are we fighting, and what's the flavor of the day?"
Lili stepped forward, her small face tightening with professional focus as she adjusted her spectacles.
"The Guild has officially designated Rigel Castle as the battleground, Yuuya-sama. It's a massive, remote fortress built into the wilderness well outside Orario's protective perimeter. It's been abandoned for decades."
"And the format?"
"A Castle Siege." Mikoto answered, her voice steady but laced with a grim undertone. "Because of the lottery draw at the Denatus, the Apollo Familia has been designated as the defenders. They will be reinforcing the castle the moment we reach the venue. Our objective is to breach the castle, infiltrate the inner sanctum, and defeat their commander, Hyakinthos."
"A siege..." Yuuya murmured, his smirk widening by a fraction of an inch. "A hundred armed adventurers holed up inside a stone fortress, completely fortified with choke points, ballistic coverage, and defensive high ground. And we have... six people."
"Exactly." Lili sighed, rubbing her temples. "The numerical disparity is despairing, to say the least. If we attempt a standard military approach, their vanguard will simply pin us down at the outer walls while their archers and mages rain down a continuous barrage from the towers. We need a strategy that bypasses their numbers entirely, or we'll be overwhelmed before we even clear the moat."
Yuuya tilted his head toward Welf.
"What kind of hardware are we working with? How about you Welf, you prepared something?
Welf unrolled the thick canvas cloths at his feet, revealing two beautifully forged, pristine longswords. The blades glowed with a faint, volatile radiance—one pulsing with the warm, shifting embers of a core fire, the other crackling with the sharp, erratic blue sparks of high-frequency lightning.
"Standard Crozzo magic swords." Welf stated, his voice carrying a mix of professional pride and lingering personal reluctance. "One fire attribute, one lightning. I put everything I had into the raw output, but because of the materials and the rush, they aren't permanent. They'll only hold their integrity for two, maybe three swings before the cores shatter and the blades run completely out of juice."
"Two swings is more than enough if you know where to aim." Yuuya said, his eyes scanning the weapons before his mind locked onto the exact layout of the canon battle. His photographic memory spun through the architectural blueprints of Rigel Castle and the predictable behavior patterns of the Apollo Familia. "Listen closely. Our plan is simple: we aren't going to fight a prolonged war of attrition. We are going to break their entire army in a single, coordinated strike."
The group fell perfectly silent, their attention entirely captured by Yuuya's sudden, absolute authority.
"Welf, give both magic swords to Ryuu." Yuuya commanded, gesturing toward the silent elf.
Welf blinked in surprise but complied without argument, handing the wrapped weapons to Ryuu, who accepted them with a sharp, inquisitive tilt of her head.
"Ryuu, you're our opening act," Yuuya explained, his eyes locking onto hers. "The moment the horn blows, you take the initiative and launch a direct, assault on the main gates. Use the Crozzo swords to unleash hell. Cause as much damage to the walls as possible and pandemonium. Force the outer walls to buckle and breach within the first thirty seconds."
"Understood." Ryuu replied, her grip tightening around the hilt of the fire sword. "A distraction of that magnitude will force their perimeter guards to panic."
"Exactly. And once the breach is made, you, Mikoto, and Welf will enter the castle grounds immediately." Yuuya continued, his finger drawing a sweeping motion in the air. "But you will not stick together. The moment you cross the threshold, you disperse into three separate directions through the lower corridors. I want you to make as much noise as humanly possible. Shatter windows, tear down tapestries, and mock their gods. The objective is to trigger their pride. Make the Apollo members lose their collective minds and chase you down the hallways."
Lili frowned, her tactical mind immediately spotting a flaw.
"Wait, Yuuya-sama... if we scatter like that, won't the Apollo Familia realize something is wrong? Their senior officers aren't completely incompetent. If they see three intruders intentionally drawing them into the deep corridors, they might realize they are being systematically lured into a trap and maintain their defensive formations."
"They would," Yuuya countered, looking directly down at the small Pallum girl with a sharp, knowing smile. "If their chain of command remained functional. But that's where you come in, Lili."
Lili blinked, pointing a finger at her own chest.
"Me?"
"You're going to use your Cinder Ella magic before the assault even begins." Yuuya explained. "I want you to transform into Luan—that arrogant little Pallum who serves as Hyakinthos' personal lackey. Once the breach occurs and the castle falls into chaos, you will embed yourself directly within their command hierarchy. You are going to poison their communication lines. You will run through the upper tiers, screaming false orders under Hyakinthos' direct authority, telling every squad leader to abandon their posts and hunt down the intruders at all costs."
Lili's eyes went wide, a slow, devious grin beginning to replace her worry. She didn't know how Yuuya knows her magic but she can let it pass. After all, now's not the time to be hiding one's cards.
"A false flag operation... under the confusion of a magical bombardment, the soldiers won't have the time to verify the orders with the real Hyakinthos. They'll blindly follow the instructions of his most trusted assistant."
"Precisely," Yuuya said. "You're going to act as the shepherd, and the Apollo Familia will be the sheep. Guide them through the corridors, funneling them from every sector of the castle until you've successfully rounded up every single active adventurer into the grand central courtyard."
Mikoto stepped forward, her hand resting on her katana as she caught the trajectory of the strategy.
"And once they are all gathered in one location, Yuuya-dono?"
"Once they are packed into that courtyard like cattle, that's your cue, Mikoto." Yuuya said, turning his gaze toward her. "The moment the trap snaps shut, you deploy your gravity magic, Futsunomitama. I don't care about the mana cost; burn your entire tank if you have to. Pin every single one of those adventurers to the cobblestones. Keep them weighted down and locked in place for as long as possible. Also, make sure you distance yourself from the trap for at least a hundred meters."
"I will hold them there even if it breaks my bones." Mikoto declared, her eyes burning with fierce resolve. "But wait Yuuya-dono, one hundred meters away? You mean...?
"Yes Mikoto, while you have them pinned to the ground..." Yuuya's voice dropped, his expression turning cold and detached as he leaned away from the wall. "...I'll finish the job. I'm going to drop the same magic I used back on the 18th Floor. The one with the giant bell."
The courtyard went dead silent. Bell swallowed hard, remembering the sheer, terrifying majesty of that chime that had echoed through the Under Resort that Yuuya used to inflict damage to the Goliath.
However, Ryuu's entire posture instantly stiffened. Her eyes, usually calm and composed, dilated with a sudden, deep seated dread. She stepped out of the shadows, her voice dropping an octave as she stared at Yuuya with intense scrutiny.
"Yuuya... that magic..." Ryuu whispered, her breath hitching slightly. "I... I know that specific spell. Seven years ago, during the dark ages of Orario... I fought against someone who possessed that exact same magic. Genos Angelus... the spell of the Maiden of Silence."
Bell tilted his head, looking confused at the title, but before he could speak or question the history that ran deep within his own heritage, Yuuya subtly raised a hand, cutting off the train of thought before the name could slip past Ryuu's lips.
"The Maiden of Silence..." Ryuu continued, her voice trembling slightly with historical weight. "If you unleash that level spell inside an enclosed stone courtyard against a bunch of adventurers, you won't just defeat them. You will leave a mass grave. The Apollo Familia will be reduced to nothing more than crimson mist and shattered bones."
Hestia gasped, her hands flying to her mouth, while Welf and Mikoto tense up, looking at Yuuya with wide eyes. They know it's power because after all, they are also there on the 18th floor when Yuuya uses it.
Yuuya, however, remained completely unbothered. He looked at Ryuu square in the eyes, his expression softening just enough to convey absolute control.
"Relax, Ryuu." Yuuya said smoothly, his voice a calm anchor in the rising tide of anxiety. "I know exactly what that magic is capable of, and I have no intention of turning Rigel Castle into a slaughterhouse. No blood will be spilled today. The version I used in the Dungeon was at maximum capacity because we were dealing with an immediate threat. For the War Game, I'm going to dial the output down to less than five percent of its true capability."
Ryuu searched his face, looking for any sign of deception.
"Five percent?"
"Yes, as much as I want to punch their faces, I think it's a bit too far to kill them." Yuuya clarified. "The bell will manifest, the chime will ring, but instead of vaporizing their flesh, it will simply shatter their equilibrium, rupture their focus, and knock all that are present completely unconscious in a single second. It's a clean, non-lethal sweep. They'll wake up with a massive headache tomorrow morning, but they'll be entirely intact."
Ryuu stared at him for a long, agonizing moment before she finally let out a slow, deflating breath. Her shoulders relaxed, and she bowed her head slightly in acceptance.
"If you can guarantee that level of precision... then I will trust your judgment, Yuuya. I will fulfill my role."
"Good." Yuuya said, finally turning his body around to face the quietest member of their group.
He looked down at Bell. The white-haired boy was standing perfectly straight now, his red eyes locked onto Yuuya, his chest rising and falling with a mixture of intense anticipation and lingering nerves.
"And that leaves the grand finale," Yuuya said, his voice taking on a lower, more personal tone as he stepped closer to the rookie.
"Hyakinthos. He's the captain, and he's arrogant, but he isn't a complete idiot. He's going to notice when his entire army suddenly stops communicating, and he certainly isn't going to leave the safety of the inner keep while my bell is hanging over his courtyard. The rules of the War Game state that the match isn't officially over until the assigned commander of the opposing team is defeated."
Bell tightened his fists, his jaw setting into a firm line.
"He'll stay inside the castle."
"Exactly. We are going to clear the board for you, Bell." Yuuya said, placing a heavy, reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder. "While Ryuu breaches the walls, while Lili poisons their commands, and while Mikoto and I lock down and incapacitate their entire active roster outside... the inner keep will be completely cleared of interference. It's going to be a clean, uninterrupted stage."
Yuuya looked deep into Bell's eyes, a challenging, competitive spark igniting within his own dark pupils.
"You got kicked around pretty badly when they attacked our home, didn't you? You were forced to run, forced to escape with your goddess while being chased through the streets, and you had to sit there while Hyakinthos looked down on you like an insect." Yuuya said, his voice candid, stripping away any false comfort. "This is your rematch, Bell. A fair, unassisted, one versus one duel at the heart of the castle. No gods, no armies, no interference. Just you and the man who tore your house down. You want your redemption, don't you?"
The nervous energy that had been plaguing Bell all morning instantly evaporated, replaced by a fierce, unyielding crimson fire behind his eyes. He gripped the hilt of Elucidator, his knuckles turning white as he looked up at Yuuya with absolute determination.
"Yes." Bell said, his voice ringing out through the ruined courtyard with total, unshakeable certainty. "I want to fight him. I'll win, Yuuya-bro. I promise."
Yuuya smiled, a sharp, dangerous expression that signaled the true beginning of the end for the sun god's household. He turned back toward the rest of the group, grabbing his gear.
"Then let's not keep Apollo waiting," Yuuya muttered, stepping out into the sunlight. "It's time to go take his castle."
∆∆∆∆