If the upper floors were a trial for rookies, the middle floors a threshold, and the deep floors a graveyard for the strong…
Then everything below Floor 50 could only be described as:
A congregation of divine malice.
The air here wasn't clear—it was a viscous, dark-purple mana fog. Every breath felt like inhaling crushed magic stones; fine dust scraped the lungs from the inside. Without protection, anyone below Level 4 would last ten minutes at best before mana poisoning choked them out.
Loki Familia's expedition formation pushed forward through the domain known as the "Barren Labyrinth."
THUD. THUD. THUD.
Gareth drove the front line like a living siege engine. Each shield bash was a localized earthquake, smashing house-sized Hell Worms into pulp.
"Captain, the spawn rate on Floor 52 is off," Bete reported, flickering back in like a silver lightning bolt. His boots dripped with corrosive, ink-green fluid. "These things are tankier than they should be—and they're shepherding us into dead ends. Like they're thinking."
Finn rode atop a massive pack-beast, thumb twitching violently.
That needle-prick pain wasn't "intuition."
It was the Dungeon's immune system screaming a warning:
Because someone was here.
(Yes. The red-haired protagonist.)
"Everyone, tighten the formation!" Finn barked, voice steel. "Riveria—prepare wide-area defensive magic. Aiz—protect the rear and logistics."
Then his eyes slid to the center of the group, to the boy wrapped in bandages—thin, almost fragile-looking—carrying far more than any Level 4 should.
"Emiya. Your right hand. Can it hold?"
Shirou Emiya carried a supply pack bigger than his torso. His left hand held a heavy iron case steady.
And his right—
Beneath bandage layers, it glowed in that uncanny half-real gold, threads of mana visible like a half-forged circuit. It looked less like a limb and more like a work-in-progress artifact.
"It's fine, Captain," Shirou answered lightly, amber eyes calm. "I can't grip physical objects, but for sensing mana flow… it's actually sharper than before."
He smiled.
"I can warn about traps early."
The instant the words left his mouth, his brow jumped.
Mind's Eye — Extreme.Prediction sequence initiated.
"Three o'clock above! Gravity-collapse trap—halt!"
His voice, reinforced by mana, traveled through the entire column.
CRASH—!
Half a second later, the ceiling ahead collapsed.
But not normally.
Every rock fragment was compressed by an invisible gravitational squeeze into a single dense sphere. The ground folded downward into a bottomless black pit, its rim warping space like heat haze.
"Holy—" Tiona slapped her chest, pale. "If we'd charged, we'd be compressed rations right now."
"This is the deep floors," Riveria said grimly. "No etiquette. No warning. No time."
Shirou stared at the gravity pit.
Inside him, the moon-god remnant pulsed like a heartbeat. His half-transparent right hand brightened, as if reacting to the Dungeon's hostility.
"So this is the rejection Hermes meant…" he thought bitterly. "Because I don't belong here, the Dungeon wants to erase me like a virus."
This was the last gate before the Void Abyss—the region adventurers called the Gravity Labyrinth.
Down here, gravity didn't "pull."
It argued.
One second you were walking on the ground, the next you were hanging from the ceiling, upside down, with your stomach insisting reality was wrong.
For Lefiya—who needed precise aim—and Gareth—who was already burning stamina—this floor was hell.
"Ah! I hate this layer!" Lefiya flailed midair, like a drowning cat in a zero-gravity tank. "My skirt—no, my sense of gravity is completely ruined!"
"Lefiya, remain calm," Riveria insisted, maintaining royal composure while using mana adhesion under her boots.
Shirou, however, moved with eerie ease.
His right hand was partially conceptual, less constrained by physical rules. He drifted like an astronaut, rotating cleanly, left hand on his blade—then casually hooked Haruhime before she floated away.
"Hold on, Haruhime."
"Y-Yes, Shirou-sama!" Haruhime blushed hard, fox tail whipping wildly—this was the most terrifying roller coaster she'd ever ridden.
Then—
Bzzzz.
A crushing intent erupted from deeper in the maze.
Not Level 6.
Something beyond it.
Aiz drew Desperate, Ariel roaring around the blade to counter the chaotic pull.
"Something is coming…"
From the shadows: a pair of massive eyes, glowing silver.
A creature emerged—long and lizard-like, with six wings, covered in metallic silver scales. Every scale bore gravity runes; where it walked, even light bent.
Deep-Floor Guardian — Gravity Dragon.Potential: Level 7 class.
This wasn't a monster.
This was the Dungeon's execution notice, given flesh.
"Gareth, hold the line!" Finn roared. "Riveria—highest-tier chant!"
The Gravity Dragon answered with a silent roar.
And then—
BOOM.
The entire floor's gravity increased a hundredfold.
THUD—THUD—
Most of the logistics team and anyone below Level 4 slammed flat, unable to move a finger. Even Finn and Riveria were forced to one knee, stone cracking beneath them.
This wasn't "skill."
This was numbers.
Raw law.
Bete's fangs clenched. "Damn it… can't move…!"
And in that absolute, suffocating high-pressure stillness—
a single crisp footstep rang out.
In a place where even dust couldn't fall—
Shirou Emiya was standing.
His right hand shone like a miniature star. The crushing pressure touched that golden field and simply… melted away.
Causality interference:This right hand does not belong to this world—physical law fails to apply.
Shirou walked forward, bandages fluttering, leather armor snapping in mana wind.
One usable hand.Mana bleeding.Body screaming.
Still—
he stepped out.
"You're trying to tell me this world doesn't want me?" Shirou met the dragon's silver gaze, and his mouth curved into something sharp and fearless. "Too bad."
"I'm excellent at giving unwelcoming hosts a gift called correction."
Trace.
This time, Shirou didn't project an ordinary weapon.
He reached with his left hand—and the damaged lunar spear phantom from the ruins, that lingering Artemis imprint, overlapped with the half-conceptual right hand.
"So this is the Moon's final blessing," he realized. "If I don't have an arm of flesh…"
"Then I'll forge with my soul."
Analyze composition: stardust steel, lunar divine fluid.Conceptual spine: a causality-piercing axis.True attribute: sever the void.
A transparent longsword condensed—dreamlike moonlight made steel.
True Name: End-Sword — Moonlit Prototype.
Not complete.
But real.
Enough to etch a new truth into Orario.
The Gravity Dragon sensed the wrongness.
It opened its jaws.
A black sphere formed—condensed gravity at its absolute limit.
Black Hole Cannon.
A hit that would crush a Level 6 and the soul inside it.
"EMIYA—DODGE!" Finn screamed, helpless.
Shirou didn't dodge.
He raised the moonlit sword.
"If you are gravity…"
"Then I'll fill you with… infinity."
Sword-World — partial deployment.
No thousand blades appeared.
Instead—a compact, rotating gear-shaped phantom manifested behind him.
A forge's heart.
A smith's mechanism.
Broken Phantasm — Custom.
Shirou projected dozens of anti-gravity enchanted blades and stuffed them into the moonlit slash, fusing their properties into one singular cut.
"Sever."
A crescent arc carved through the purple fog.
No explosion.
Just the sound of paper being sliced.
The Black Hole Cannon split—cleanly—into two halves.
Those halves detonated beside Shirou, erasing both walls into void—
yet leaving the expedition column untouched.
The Gravity Dragon recoiled, shrieking.
Its instincts screamed:
This human wasn't fighting.
He was rewriting the battlefield.
Shirou vanished.
Not speed.
Not footwork.
He used the sword's micro-severance of space to "skip" distance.
The next moment—he stood above the dragon's head.
"This blade…"
"…is for the future Alise and the others earned."
He drove the moonlit sword down.
SCHLK—!
It pierced straight into the core magic stone.
The silver scales that should've been unbreakable… turned soft as tofu before that concept.
"Disappear."
Shirou's translucent right hand closed over the hilt.
And in that instant, a vast purification—Artemis's lingering divinity—poured through him like a flood.
BOOM—!
White light filled Floor 58.
Gravity vanished.
Killing intent vanished.
The Gravity Dragon disintegrated into glittering silver dust, warm as snowfall.
When the light faded, the expedition collapsed, gasping.
"Did we… win?" Gareth wiped his brow, shaking like he'd crawled out of a grinder.
Finn forced himself upright, staring at Shirou's back.
"That strike…" Finn murmured. "He touched that domain."
But Shirou wasn't okay.
The moonlit sword dispersed.
His right hand became even more unreal—edges blurring into nothing. Even his shoulder line started to fade.
"Emiya!" Aiz was first to move.
She wrapped him from behind.
This time—she felt it.
Not much.
But enough.
"Don't move," Aiz said, voice cracking. "Your hand… it's disappearing."
Shirou turned, face pale as ash—and still smiled.
"Sorry, Aiz. I overdid it."
"But… it means we're here."
Everyone followed his gaze.
At the end of Floor 58, where the dragon had guarded—
a colossal cavern yawned open, an abyssal mouth.
From it came no roar.
No wind.
Only absolute silence.
That was the entrance to Floor 60: Void Abyss.
The Dungeon's heart.
Freya watched through the divine mirror, silver eyes intoxicated.
Her cheeks flushed with something unhealthy and hungry.
"Yes… that light," she whispered, fingertip tracing Shirou's half-transparent face in the mirror. "The light that cuts rules open even in despair…"
"Emiya Shirou… you truly are the only treasure of this era."
She turned toward the shadowed figure behind her.
"Ottar. Are preparations complete? That thing… must be eager to swallow such radiance."
"All is ready, Lady," Ottar answered, voice like distant thunder.
Freya smiled languidly.
"Then let us see."
"Is this world's void stronger…"
"…or is that man's infinity harder to break?"
Finn stood beside Shirou, eyes deep.
"You said the Dungeon is rejecting you."
"Yes, Captain." Shirou didn't deny it. "It wants me dead."
Finn looked back at the Familia:
Aiz gripping her sword.Riveria distributing the final elixirs.Bete doing aggressive warmups.Haruhime and Lili clinging to the supplies like lifelines.
Finn turned forward again and spoke like a vow.
"Then if the Dungeon hates you…"
"We will make sure you come back alive."
"This is our home," Finn said, smiling the smile Orario trusted.
"But we are its masters."
"All units—final stretch!"
"Objective: Floor 60!"
"Retrieve our cook…"
"…and while we're at it, we'll go throw that so-called void into the trash."
"OOOOOOH!"
With a roar that shook the purple fog, Loki Familia's expedition stepped into the forbidden abyss.
And deep within that darkness—
a pair of gigantic crimson compound eyes opened.
And a man in a black cloak, mask hiding his face, waited in silence.
Not just for Artemis's inheritance.
But for Shirou Emiya—
as a candidate of heroism—
to begin his first true dialogue with the truth of this world.
The wind died in the abyss.
But inside Shirou's soul—
the endless wasteland of blades expanded faster than ever.
The true awakening of Senji Muramasa…
was about to erupt on Floor 60.
....
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