Elegant furniture hinted at refined taste despite its simplicity, filling a quiet room that carried the faint, lingering scent of perfume.
On the neatly organized bookshelves, volumes on history and geography stood beside cookbooks. Tucked behind them lay a bundle of ancient papers too weathered to be called a book. The title was written in a strange language—neither the Common Tongue nor the Sacred Hieroglyphs. It resembled a dialect from the Far East, a script that no known language in this world could represent.
Next to it sat another old book, its plain cover bearing the title Dungeon Oratorio in Sacred Hieroglyphs.
In the center of the room, a young man sat alone in an elegant chair.
"There's no hope... It's over. I'm completely finished."
This was Al Cranel, a high-ranking executive of the Loki Familia and the strongest adventurer in Orario, known as the Sword Saint and the Sword Demon. Despite sitting at the pinnacle of power in the City of Heroes, he currently struggled with absolute despair.
"Aaaaaah!?"
The moment his eyes fell upon the object on his desk, his handsome features contorted, and he let out a loud cry. Ordinarily, even after failing on the 59th Floor, he would never allow such a storm of emotion to surface in his expression or voice; he would have kept it strictly internal. But now, he lacked the mental fortitude and composure to endure. While he mentally praised himself for having enough presence of mind to activate a soundproofing magic tool, he doubled over, clutching his head.
"Dammit... this is impossible... what in the world... how could I have predicted this would happen..."
Al muttered to himself, pressing his palms against his skull as if he had committed the blunder of a lifetime. If it had been a simple failure, he could have handled it; failure could be used as a lesson for next time. But what happened this time was something he couldn't forgive himself for.
He had succeeded. In fact, he had succeeded brilliantly, achieving a result so perfect it was flawless. It was undoubtedly the fruit of his labor, and he could feel the tangible results. And that was exactly why this reality crushed his soul.
"Why didn't I notice...? No, I felt something was off... but it didn't matter to me then... but could it be that...!"
The sight of Al muttering to himself was deeply unsettling, but no one was there to interrupt him—this was his private quarters. As a Familia executive, and at his own insistence, he had been granted an independent room rather than shared housing.
"Somehow, nothing matters anymore."
Al whispered with hollow eyes. Had anyone other than the Saint seen him now, they would have been shocked by the staggering contrast between this state and his usual demeanor. This wasn't suicidal despair; it was a total flight from reality caused by a violent shock.
Al suddenly straightened up and glanced toward the door, standing up abruptly. He deactivated the soundproofing tool and regained his usual calm, feigning stability. His sharp adventurer senses had picked up someone approaching.
A moment later, a knock sounded at the door, just as he expected.
"Hey, I'm here! Can you open up for a bit?"
Al felt a slight prick of annoyance. She was knocking, which was unlike her; she was clearly being considerate of his feelings because of what had happened. He unlocked the door regardless.
"I'm coming in~"
"If you're only here to annoy me, please leave."
"Fine. ── Wait, who's leaving, you brat?!"
"You're too loud."
Loki, the goddess of the Familia known for her fake accent, entered the room, indulging in her usual comedic banter.
"I brought a little gift for Al."
●○●○●
── Three years ago.
In the Great Hollow of the Dungeon, the sound of rock grinding against something wet and cracking echoed through the air. The intensity grew until fissures appeared in the heart of the hollow, looking like tears in skin. Soon, red water seeped from those cracks, turning into a roaring waterfall that erupted like a violent spring.
Steam rose from the congested blood-falls, enveloping the area in stifling heat. A purple mist obscured the vision and drifted toward the ceiling while bodily fluids continued to pour out without pause. The ground eventually cracked and gave way, forming a vast lake in the depths.
A massive, blood-red eyeball emerged from the fissures. It moved sharply to scan the surroundings, its vertical black pupil dilating as if it had found prey, glowing like a blood-colored ruby.
Responding to the eye's glow, the cracks widened. A greyish-white skeleton shattered the quartz placenta to force its way into existence. Ribs and vertebrae appeared one by one, piercing through the rock until the head was revealed.
It resembled no known monster. Instead, it was a grotesque amalgamation of skulls—rams, horses, goats, bulls, birds, and dogs. Glowing red crystals sat nestled in the hollow eye sockets.
The creature surveyed its surroundings, then shifted its gaze to inspect its own body, bone by bone. Once its skeletal frame was complete from the vertebrae to the tip of its tail, it let out a thunderous shriek toward the ceiling.
It was a giant skeleton, measuring between twenty-five and thirty meters in length. A body devoid of flesh, with sharp, fang-like protrusions sticking out from the bone, while purple blood leaked from the gaps in its joints.
The grating sound of bone on bone echoed as the long fingers on its four limbs moved erratically.
A dark purple "shell" covered its body, interlaced with pale blue veins that throbbed like blood vessels. Despite a massive frame reminiscent of a fossilized dinosaur, its joints were flexible, suggesting a capacity for rapid movement that far surpassed its appearance. The outer shell pulsed with a purple light, like a beating heart.
This being was entirely "different." It did not belong to any known species of monster spawned by the Labyrinth.
It acted as the white blood cells of the Dungeon, which itself is a massive living organism. This creature was an immune cell whose function was to eradicate intruders—adventurers—whom the Dungeon viewed as germs.
Normally, when the Dungeon's structure is damaged, it prioritizes reconstruction over producing new monsters. Adventurers exploit this to sleep safely by partially destroying walls. However, if the Labyrinth suffers massive damage beyond its rapid repair capacity, it triggers a self-defense system to produce "antibodies" to eliminate the cause of the destruction.
This giant skeleton, created solely for this mission, was a terrifying and hideous entity. It possessed no will or emotion; it was a killing machine designed to slaughter enemies.
The monster possessed four primary traits:
First: The sharp purple "Claws" on its long limbs. With six fingers on each hand, they possessed a sharpness that could tear through the armor of master smiths along with the bodies of the adventurers wearing them. It was a power of absolute cutting that defied defense.
Second: The purple "Shell" covering its body. This solid armor repelled any ordinary attack. More importantly, it possessed "Magic Reflection," allowing it to deflect and redirect the most powerful magical attacks from high-level mages.
Third: A "Sensory Ability" that covered an entire floor. The Dungeon had evolved its senses to detect "germs" (adventurers) instantly. Its capability surpassed any other monster, allowing it to pinpoint targets with absolute precision in a 360-degree range across the whole floor.
Fourth: Supernatural "Agility" and "Strength." Despite being made of mere bone, it moved with a freedom and speed that outpaced lightning. Its power far exceeded that of Floor Bosses.
Its name was ── the Juggernaut.
The Destroyer that kills those who wound the Labyrinth. Before this catastrophe—which had previously annihilated the Astraea Familia—stood a boy who refused to kneel, even though the monster's claws had shredded his body and left him on the brink of death.
His body had reached its absolute limit, blood dripping from every joint. Continuous battles had drained his energy and soul; his tools were gone, and he had no time left to live.
Yet, the fighting spirit in his eyes remained unquenched. The boy gripped his sword tightly, summoning the last of his resolve. He then smiled as he was enveloped in flickering flames like a true "Hero"—a scene Ryuu Lion still remembered vividly.
"If only the Astraea Familia were here at a time like this..."
A woman whispered those words, causing Ryuu to tighten her expression and suppress her emotions.
The woman's daughter, Anna, had reportedly been collateralized to some bottom-of-the-barrel adventurers after they forced her gambling-addict husband to sign for debts beyond his means. Although security in Orario had gradually improved after the fall of the Evils, villains still practiced their vices.
In this case, the adventurers used their strength to intimidate a defenseless father. An adventurer who has received a "Divine Blessing" remains a force an ordinary human cannot defeat, even if they are only Level 1.
The problem lay in the fact that these adventurers belonged to different Familias. They hid their secret cooperation behind the excuse of different affiliations to lure Anna's father into a gambling trap without him realizing he was being surrounded. They let him win initially, then manipulated the games to drown him in debt. When he tried to withdraw, they threatened him and forced him to borrow more, eventually demanding his daughter as collateral.
"Hey, stop mentioning Familias that no longer exist..."
Even the city guards of the Ganesha Familia found it difficult to handle such everyday cases because they were occupied with larger crimes. Furthermore, the fact that these adventurers were scattered across multiple Familias hindered the arrest process and made it easy to destroy evidence.
"But if Lady Astraea were here, she would surely have lent us a hand!! Why do the good Familias always leave...!!"
The woman lamented her luck as she mentioned the name of the Goddess of Justice who used to protect Orario's peace. Her husband choked on his words, consumed by guilt.
The Astraea Familia—the Familia led by the Goddess of Justice—used to be active daily in protecting the city. Founded during the Dark Ages after the fall of the Zeus and Hera Familias, they carried the banner of the fight against evil. This was the Familia Ryuu belonged to before its members met their end in a tragic incident years ago, leading to its disbandment.
Afterward, Ryuu abandoned the life of an adventurer and took the path of revenge, eventually ending up working at the pub.
Ryuu could say nothing to the couple who had collapsed in grief. As for Syr and the others who knew Ryuu's past, they hesitated to comfort her.
(I have no right to speak of "Justice" now...)
Ryuu remembered her past actions. Despite her inner turmoil, she maintained a stoic face, silently pressing her lips together. Service without reward was meaningless, mere hypocrisy, and she had abandoned that since she lost everything.
One who chooses the path of revenge has no right to speak of justice; from the moment she chose that path, she had been walking in the opposite direction.
While she blamed herself, the image of a girl came to mind.
A girl who smiled like the sun, with red hair as bright as fire and emerald eyes that reflected the strength of her will. To Ryuu, she was a savior, a best friend, and a comrade-in-arms.
Thanks to her, Ryuu was still alive. She was a girl of incomparable kindness and rock-solid determination; for that reason, Ryuu respected her and aspired to her radiance.
If that girl heard the couple's story, what would she do?
She would undoubtedly lend a hand without hesitation. It was her nature to be unable to ignore someone in distress, no matter how difficult the circumstances.
That is why Ryuu ──
●○●○●
Meanwhile, Al was...
"Royal Straight Flush."
"Im-Impossible... another consecutive win?!"
"Brother, you're amazing..."
Al had bought the sold daughter, Anna Kleze. He was winning overwhelmingly against Terry Cervantes, the Dwarf who ran the large gambling hall and pulled the strings from the shadows.
Al continued to play without touching the expensive drinks provided by the waiter, achieving back-to-back victories in Poker and Blackjack.
"Twelve people left... shall we change the game?"
Due to Terry's threats, the beautiful girls being held captive were running toward Al one by one with joy. Terry Cervantes was a man who crushed those who didn't obey him, using his wealth and influence to seize his opponents' weaknesses and employing hired mercenaries to kill those who resisted.
He had set his sights on Anna Kleze, the beautiful florist's daughter, and drowned her father in debt to claim her. But Terry was now trembling at Al's consecutive wins, while his important clients broke into a cold sweat.
Terry had faced many who refused to submit to him, ending them with violent blows from his skilled hired guards. But this time...
Around Al's chair, humans and catmen lay unconscious after attempting to draw their weapons. Even though some were Level 2 adventurers, they had all lost consciousness in the blink of an eye.
As for those who tried to summon the Ganesha Familia from outside, they were taken down by the masked Amazonians following Al.
(I want to finish this and go home quickly...)
"Come on. Next. Who's next?"
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