What kind of description could Ron even use for this environment…
It was like an ancient architectural complex lost deep within the Dungeon. The surface of the crumbling ruins was covered with completely withered, gray-black, ferocious vines.
At a glance—
If he didn't already know this was the Dungeon, he would almost think he was hallucinating a Soulslike map.
"Hellish."
Utterly hellish.
The frost mist shrouding the surroundings completely isolated this area from the outside world. Only sparsely scattered bonfires provided faint illumination.
But when Ron looked more carefully, he noticed that the statues whose figures were hidden in the dark corners, like sculptures, even had dark-green moss clinging to the pale surface of the monsters.
"Are you serious?"
"How am I running into those nut-shot imps even in DanMachi?!"
These little imps—Ron could recognize them with his eyes closed. They were absolutely the Elden Ring version. If the number of monsters wasn't too large, dealing with them wouldn't be too difficult.
Then—
He scanned the surroundings. In this area that resembled an ancient altar, hidden in all kinds of dark corners, there were simply too many little imp statues to count.
Masters of all-terrain combat.
Dungeon war gods that wriggled through the shadows. These monsters that could slip through any crack would leap out from every corner to ambush him—they were definitely quite troublesome.
"What good intentions could the Dungeon possibly have?"
"You bastard…"
Ron finally understood why the frost mist mechanism had guided him here. When he turned his head to look at the path he had come from, he could no longer distinguish the direction at all.
The long strips of cloth he had left as markers had quietly been cut.
So—
This damn Dungeon was trying to keep him here completely by stacking monsters, and the monsters it had stacked were Elden Ring little imps.
"If monsters like these were given even a bit of simple intelligence…"
Just thinking about it made the corner of his mouth twitch uncontrollably. And as if sensing the presence of an adventurer, some of the surrounding statues had already begun to awaken.
The sharp creaking sounds alone were enough to make his ears ache.
At this point, there was only one option—fight!
He still wasn't clear on the little imps' mobility. If their speed was roughly what he imagined, heavy weapons like ultra greatswords would see their effectiveness greatly reduced.
And if their numbers piled up…
All he could do was pin his hopes on "Great Fortune."
He stayed absolutely alert, his gaze sweeping first toward the monsters appearing ahead.
"Thank you."
Based on their appearance and the weapons they carried, it was possible to roughly distinguish these monsters: Imps wearing dog-head masks usually wielded forked greatswords.
Imps with owl masks held scythes, and so on.
"My blood pressure's spiking, bro."
Just as Ron was thinking about how exactly he should deal with this pack of little imps, he saw these monsters—barely any bigger than goblins—scrambling on all fours and charging straight at him at breakneck speed.
They were really fast—faster, even, than that "Ganu" from the Soma Familia. Without thinking at all, he decisively drew "Great Fortune."
Use a melee weapon?
Don't make your imp bro laugh—do you even understand the value of jumping attacks and bleed?!
"…"
Ron lowered his stance.
Facing several little imps rushing at him head-on, he swung his sword without hesitation. Even though the ultra greatsword was massive, it didn't affect the speed of his swing at all.
As the sword-light flashed past—
Bang!
At the instant of impact, chunks of stone flew everywhere.
But the outcome he had expected—cutting the monster clean in half—didn't happen. It only left a gash-like crack on the little imp's body.
After being knocked flying, the monster struggled on the ground for a moment, then got back up again.
"These stats are seriously off!"
Ron couldn't help recalling the little imps in the Consecrated Snowfield. Combined with the frost mist blanketing the area, the floor's conditions somehow felt oddly fitting.
And just as that suspicion formed—the dog-head imp wielding a forked greatsword was already charging at him.
He knew this one.
As he chopped forward, he rolled through the air in a "wolf-jump" posture, then twisted nimbly and smashed down hard onto the dog-head imp's stone body.
Lion's Claw!
[Soul Remains +3]
As a second-tier weapon, there was no need to say anything about the ultra greatsword's sharpness.
The moment it made contact—the monster's body instantly shattered into pieces. And after the little imp died, the corpse formed from stone statues didn't vanish according to the Dungeon's usual logic.
Instead, it was left behind right where it fell.
"This is definitely a Soulslike map…"
In Elden Ring, an imp's corpse doesn't disappear after death—it remains as a collision object, affecting all kinds of the Tarnished's actions.
As for the remaining monsters—
Ron decisively chose to end things quickly. Abandoning technique, he opted to rely purely on the raw stats of "Great Fortune" to overwhelm the little imps in all aspects.
The process went very smoothly.
Using the brass heavy shield strapped to his back to block the blow darts fired from the dark corners, it took only a short time to defeat the little imps one by one.
"So…"
"As long as I'm not surrounded by a swarm of little imps, this isn't that hard to handle!"
For Ron, this level of combat intensity could only be considered a warm-up.
But just as that thought formed—as if sensing the demise of their companions, even the bat Imps standing high atop the ancient ruins in the distance—their rigid, statue-like bodies were gradually awakening…
Then—
He looked across the entire area. Even though visibility was poor in the dim atmosphere, the crimson eyes of the little imps still made the hairs on his body stand on end.
Densely packed—
There were simply too many monsters to count!
If he could kill them all, it would definitely be enough to gather the Soul Shards needed to draw the second Character Save Slot. But at a time like this, reason still held the high ground.
"You win."
Even with "Revival" at maximum uses, his instincts told Ron that if he stayed any longer, he would only end up restarting amid the endless waves of monsters.
There was even a real possibility he might die here for good.
Time to run…
Any hesitation would be a desecration of life itself. He didn't care whether the frost mist trap behind him would disorient his vision—because he knew—
Staying here was certain death.
Ron plunged straight into the frost mist mechanism.
After his adventurer level increased, his speed had improved noticeably. To guard against monsters suddenly leaping out, he raised the brass heavy shield in front of him.
His sense of direction was somewhat lost, but he could still use the withered trees as reference points to escape in a straight line.
As for the little imps that suddenly sprang out along the way, the difference in body size, combined with the defense of the brass heavy shield, sent them flying without exception.
During the retreat, there was no sense of time at all.
And then—
Ron saw that the frost mist ahead had grown slightly thinner, and several blurred silhouettes of adventurers were visible. Since this Soulslike Dungeon was originally the result of his own actions, there was no reason to continue diverting disaster toward others.
Especially when he noticed that enormous swarm of monsters—whose bodies couldn't be seen, but whose crimson eyes gave them away—he shouted a warning.
"Run!"
"The monster swarm is charging over—"
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