I clicked my tongue.
I didn't expect monsters to even attack a safe haven.
But it was clear, the monsters weren't attacking randomly.
They were targeting Ais. This wasn't just a random Dungeon encounter.
Which meant this wasn't just an ambush.
This was planned, which meant someone was directing them.
My mind ran through the possibilities, filtering through what I knew from the main story. The factions, the gods, the people with enough influence to orchestrate something on this scale.
But nothing cleanly fit.
The Loki Familia had no reason to target Ais like this. They were, after all, her former Familia, they wouldn't hurt Ais like that.
And while there were plenty of hostile gods in Orario, most of them didn't have the means to control Level 5 monsters in coordinated numbers without drawing attention.
Which left something more concerning.
Either I was dealing with a god willing to take that kind of risk openly…
Or something operating outside the usual rules entirely.
And then, one possibility stood out.
Sword Oratoria.
At least, that was the direction my instincts pointed toward.
The problem was, I had never read it. Never followed that side of the story. My knowledge of this world was limited to the main narrative centered around Bell.
Which meant I was missing context—important context.
There was only one way to find out: going deeper.
There was a high chance, no—only one real possibility. Whoever was behind this was further down in the Dungeon.
I made my decision.
I turned back to Mira.
"The plan has changed," I said.
Without waiting for a response, I activated a spell beneath my feet, mana gathering as the air shifted around me.
"I'm going to find Ais. You're all heading back to Hestia Familia."
Mira immediately opened her mouth to argue.
"Wait—Leon, that's not—"
I cut her off before she could finish.
"No. It's dangerous, You'll just be a burden."
I didn't want it to sound harsh.
But it was the truth.
Mira stiffened at that, clearly wanting to argue again, but I didn't give her the space to.
"This isn't something you can keep up with, not in your condition, and not at your level."
Mira opened her mouth, then closed it again.
"…Tch." She clicked her tongue and looked away instead.
Then Grokk finally arrived.
He was panting hard, like he had run the entire way.
"What happened?" he asked, eyes darting between us.
I didn't waste time.
"No time to explain. Get in."
A portal opened beside me, mana folding the space into a stable gateway.
I glanced at Mira briefly. "She'll explain it. Right now, you need to go back."
Grokk hesitated, staring at me, then at Mira—who had already turned her head away, arms folded like she didn't want to deal with it.
After a beat, he gave a small, grim nod.
"…Got it."
One by one, they stepped into the portal.
And just like that, their figures vanished.
Then I cracked my neck once, rolling my shoulders then I slid the ring of suppression off my finger.
There was no point holding back anymore.
Not when Ais's life was on the line.
I moved.
Floor by floor, deeper into the Dungeon.
The moment the monsters appeared, it was already over.
One strike.
That was all it took.
They didn't even get the chance to react properly before they disintegrated into light and ash, their bodies collapsing as if they had never been anything more than noise in my path.
No one lasted more than a single hit.
Not a single one.
Still, by the time I reached the 50th floor, there were still no signs of Ais.
Nothing.
No traces. No lingering presence. No clues left behind.
That only left one conclusion.
Deeper.
So I moved with a single goal in mind—Ais.
She was part of our Familia now.
And that alone was enough reason.
51st
52nd
53th
By the time I reached the 55th floor, I finally felt it.
Ais's presence. It wasn't strong. Not like before. It flickered through the air like something being worn down from constant pressure, unstable and fading at the edges.
My expression hardened.
She was still alive.
And worse, I could tell they were moving her deeper into the Dungeon, and fast at that.
I stopped for half a second, just long enough to properly lock onto the direction.
It was directly beneath me.
But not just one floor.
More like five.
Maybe more, depending on how deep they had already gone in the last few minutes.
I shifted my stance and exhaled once.
No more hesitation.
I stepped forward again, mana tightening around my body as I prepared to break through the remaining floors without stopping.
If they were trying to drag her deeper into the Dungeon…
Then I would just have to reach her faster than they could descend.
I already had a spell in mind for situations like this.
Not something I liked using often.
But this wasn't a situation that allowed restraint.
I raised my hand, extending a single finger forward as mana gathered at its tip. The air around it tightened immediately, distorting slightly as heat began to build in a controlled, compressing spiral.
Then it appeared.
A small spherical flame, floating just above my fingertip.
Orange at first glance, simple and contained.
But that description didn't feel right the moment I looked at it properly.
It wasn't just a flame.
It was denser than that.
Heavier.
Like something that had been compressed far beyond what fire was supposed to endure.
A miniature sun, suspended in place.
[Cruel Sun.]
A spell I had modeled after the Lion's Sin of Pride, Escanor-sama.
The name fit too well to ignore.
My fingers tilted just slightly.
The "sun" followed.
Then I aimed it downward.
Slowly, deliberately, I adjusted my stance as the miniature sun balanced above my fingertip, its surface trembling with contained heat that warped the air around it.
Then I slammed it into the ground.
—o—
The Corrupted Spirit drifted through the lower depths of the Dungeon, its presence unseen but ever expanding, like a stain seeping through stone and mana alike.
It could feel her.
Aria.
That familiar presence moving deeper, slower now, dulled by exhaustion and pressure. It lingered in the Spirit's awareness like a wound that had never fully healed.
And now finally she was now in her grasp.
After years of waiting for so long. For once, the path toward her felt open.
There were no first-class adventurers nearby. No overwhelming presences that forced it to hide or divert its attention. No interference from those who usually stood in its way.
Only weaker ones.
Small, insignificant lives that scattered instinctively around its influence, none worth its notice. None capable of stopping it.
It should have been satisfying.
The monsters gathered around her, presenting her presence to the Spirit as if offering something long awaited, something that had finally been returned to its rightful place.
For a moment, there was stillness.
Satisfaction.
Possession.
Aria was here.
And this time, there was nowhere left for her to run.
And yet—
A faint disturbance rippled through the Dungeon.
The Spirit paused.
Its awareness stretched outward instinctively, trying to locate the source, but what it found made no immediate sense. A pressure it couldn't properly identify. Not a monster. Not a god it recognized.
Something else.
Still, it dismissed it.
Not when Aria was already in its hands.
Not when she was finally within reach.
Then—
Boom.
All the Spirit could comprehend in that instant was heat. Intense, overwhelming heat, as if the Dungeon itself had briefly turned into the surface of a star.
For a moment, its consciousness failed to properly process what it was experiencing.
"Arghhh—!"
It screamed, but even its voice felt unstable, breaking apart as the pressure swallowed meaning itself, and then—
Everything vanished.
Erased into dust, as if existence itself had decided those things were never meant to remain.
When it opened its eyes again, there was a pause, a stillness that felt wrong in a way it could not immediately articulate.
Then it saw it.
Its children.
All of them.
Lying across the broken terrain like discarded remnants, motionless and empty, their presence no longer extending back into it, no longer answering its will or acknowledging its existence.
The connection it had always relied on, the bond that defined them as extensions of itself, was gone.
They were dead.
And then it screamed again. In rage and in sadness.
But before the echo of that scream could settle—
A voice cut through it.
Calm.
Cold.
Unmoving.
"Quiet."
It was then that the Spirit finally noticed his presence.
It was him.
The same presence it had felt earlier, the one it had ignored, the one it had deemed irrelevant in favor of Aria.
That pressure was no longer distant.
No longer abstract.
It was here.
And now that it focused properly, it realized just how wrong its earlier judgment had been.
The Spirit's rage faltered for the briefest moment.
And for the first time since Aria had been taken from its grasp—
It realized how wrong it was.
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