Darkness.
It was only natural for "black" to fill the Dungeon, for there should have been no light down here at all.
And yet, for some reason—
As Riveria Ljos Alf gazed at the fissure before her, gaping like an enormous "maw," a jolt of panic seized her heart—a "fear" she had not felt in a very long time, not since she had first become an adventurer.
The Princess of the Elves was not incapable of being afraid.
And the same was true for Finn Deimne, Gareth, Hedin, and Allen Fromel.
Adventurers were people too. No matter how high their level, they could still feel fear—in the moment after the slaughter with the Monsters was over, when that life-or-death expedition had finally ended and they returned to the surface.
That was nothing unusual.
But this...
At the very end of the 60th floor, the party had discovered a "rift" leading to the next level below.
It resembled a flat, gigantic mouth, faintly opening and closing, wide enough for a single person to stoop and pass through. A dwarf like Gareth could walk straight in, and a Pallum like Finn could step right inside.
Beyond the rift was pure, unbroken blackness.
Ottar was the first to enter, and only after he confirmed it was safe did the others file in one by one.
Unlike the corridors connecting the other floors, beyond the rift there was no long, sloping descent.
Instead, there was one small platform after another, each requiring them to keep leaping down.
It was just like the edge of a cliff.
After jumping down several platforms, each perhaps a dozen or so meters high, they finally reached the ground.
By the glow of the magic-stone lamps, they could see that their surroundings were no different from the 60th floor they had just left—all a stretch of grayish-white "flesh."
The only difference here.
Was the enormous pillar that could faintly be glimpsed in the distance.
Specks of light shimmered upon it, like scattered stars—yet as they drew closer, they realized that what they had taken for a pillar was in fact countless "corpses" heaped and embracing one another.
They should have been "corpses."
The texture was the same as the grayish-white ground beneath their feet—warm, sticky, and even faintly "trembling" still.
Riveria Ljos Alf clapped a hand over her mouth, staring in disbelief at the scene before her.
Because.
The "bodies" heaped into that pillar were women, one after another, with long, slender ears—yet they were not elves, but—
[Spirits].
And every one of them was a "Great Spirit."
Because Lesser Spirits took all manner of forms, but most were somewhat hideous (though it was unkind to say so), some even resembling creatures like Goblins, often causing people to mistake them for such.
Intermediate Spirits, on the other hand, were like small children—like Yufi—and some looked utterly like infants.
Those grown into maidens and mature women were all "Great Spirits."
The Great Spirits, all but extinct in the present world, whom no one ever encountered anymore.
"..."
Riveria could see it—the ones upon that pillar of flesh were gripped by terror, resentment, and hatred, their beautiful faces twisted into horrifying expressions that struck fear straight into the heart.
Spirits.
They were meant to be symbols of beauty and peace.
Pure and noble, in the ancient age they had, as the messengers of the gods, met with [Heroes], bestowing their blessings upon them, fighting shoulder to shoulder with the [Heroes] to protect this world together.
Only those who had received a Spirit's blessing were true [Heroes].
This was the iron law of the ancient era.
That was it.
Riveria lowered her eyes slightly. If that was the case, then the Great Spirits who had perished here in the Dungeon, from ancient times to the present, must number "who knew how many."
Together with their [Heroes].
Even a great [Hero] like Albert could not escape the fate of being slain by Monsters.
If that was so—
Gradually, from the darkness all around, came a faint, indistinct sound of weeping.
It was the crying of girls.
Slowly gathering like raindrops, it lent this grayish-white place of horror an added air of the uncanny.
"Hold formation!"
The adventurers swiftly closed into a ring.
They kept Haruhime, Airmid, Asfi, Lefiya Viridis, Riveria, and the other mages and support personnel unsuited to combat protected within the center.
The others watched their surroundings warily.
With that weeping just now, there was no doubt—the terrifying presence hidden in the darkness had launched its "attack" upon them.
And so.
Many of them heard it—from within the darkness came the sound of something "slithering."
"Careful!"
The first to spot the Monster was Ais Wallenstein, flying overhead.
Right before the girl's eyes.
Suddenly, as if falling from the sky, a hideous, spider-like face lunged into view.
It opened its great maw, dark-tinted venom seeping from fangs like a spider's mouthparts, and hurled itself straight at her head.
As if to "embrace" her.
Its speed was tremendous, utterly silent—an ordinary Lv.4 or even Lv.5 adventurer might not have been able to react in time.
Fortunately.
Ais had long since grown used to fighting foes of unbelievable speed.
So relying on pure instinct alone, she dodged the creature's attack outright, and at the same time drew the [Sword of Despair] from her waist.
A flash of golden light, a whirling gust—
In an instant, the Monster before her was torn utterly to shreds.
"What is this thing?"
Only then.
Did Ais realize that the Monster which had just ambushed her was a twisted creature—the upper half like a spider, the lower half like a long serpent.
And what's more.
Amid that serpent's tail, there seemed to grow a "ball of flesh" like a head.
The Monster's blood rained down, fiercely corrosive, still writhing even where it struck the ground, as though it yet carried the breath of life.
Only when Hedin's ball of lightning scorched it to charcoal—destroying even the Magic Stone within, most likely—did it finally crumble to ash and vanish.
"Immortal Thunder Soldier——"
Golden radiance erupted with a roar.
At the same moment, Ryuu invoked her own magic, [Luminous Wind].
Orbs of golden and deep-green light rose up, like one small sun after another, at last illuminating everything around them.
And so.
Within the darkness they had not been able to see before.
The party finally beheld them—the countless "spider Monsters" that had just now been hidden away.
"Don't let them wound you!"
Though it was the first time he had ever encountered such creatures,
the pricking pain in his thumb told Finn Deimne that this was no simple foe.
"Wipe them out with magic as much as you can—no melee, everyone be careful!!"
"Haruhime, cast your level-up magic on Lefiya and Riveria!"
"Hold firm first!"
"Then, in one strike, annihilate them all!!"
The Pallum [Braver], commanding them all, bellowed out.
From here on they had to conserve their strength. This was that thing's lair, so what came next would surely be a long, drawn-out battle.
It—
The [Corrupted Spirit].
It was not only probing their side, but also wearing down everyone's stamina.
It was a being of intelligence—and Monsters like that were the most troublesome of all.
So they could not remain passive, rooted in place. They had to take the initiative, to catch the enemy off guard—they must not be led around by the nose by this thing!
Thinking this.
Finn Deimne raised his head, gazing straight ahead into that even deeper darkness before them.
There was nothing there.
Yet faintly, there came a laugh of utter contempt.
____
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