The Dungeon, Upper Floors.
To the vast majority of Level 1 novice adventurers, this was a proving ground where opportunities and danger coexisted.
Even plunging as shallow as the 5th Floor, swarms of Killer Ants and cunning War Shadows were more than enough to send a well-equipped four-person party scrambling in a panic.
Today, however, a group of adventurers locked in a bitter struggle against several Killer Ants on the 7th Floor witnessed a scene they would never forget for the rest of their lives.
"Hold the line! Healer, heal the vanguard, quickly!"
"I can't, Captain! My mana is almost bottomed out!"
"Dammit, why are there more of these freaks than usual?!"
Just as this small party was about to be overwhelmed by the ant swarm and plunge into despair, a white-clad figure emerged from a side passage at an unhurried pace, much like a wisp of morning breeze that didn't belong in this gloomy abyss.
It was a white-haired, blue-eyed youth. He wore simple, fitted combat attire, a longsword resting on his waist.
He looked as if he were taking a leisurely stroll through his own backyard, his face entirely devoid of tension, clashing horribly with the hair-trigger atmosphere around him.
He didn't even spare a glance at the adventurers fighting for their lives. He just kept walking straight toward the entrance to the next floor.
And every single Killer Ant that blocked his path—whether they were snapping their massive mandibles or attempting a flank ambush—was suddenly, silently, and without any warning sliced cleanly in half the moment they entered a three-foot radius around him.
There were no earth-shattering flashes of sword light, no deafening booms.
No one even saw if he had drawn his sword.
He just kept walking, his pace steady, his rhythm unchanging.
The carapaces that novice adventurers viewed as an impenetrable defense were as fragile as wet paper before him.
Just like that, he took a leisurely stroll through the ant swarm, carving out a perfectly straight "road of death" paved with monster corpses.
Only when his figure vanished into the entrance to the 8th Floor did the surviving adventurers finally collapse to the ground, feeling as if all the strength had been sucked out of them. They gasped heavily for air, their faces painted with the terror of surviving a disaster and unparalleled, absolute shock.
"Wh-What was that just now?"
"W-Was that 'Flamescion'? He's so strong..."
"Gods... was that really an adventurer?"
Similar scenes played out across the subsequent floors.
From the 1st Floor down to the 12th Floor, Aiden's footsteps never once paused.
The Blazing Axe Mitachurls, Kairagi, and Infant Dragons that once demanded his utmost focus were now no different than roadside weeds to him.
He passed through the 12th Floor's Misty Maze and arrived at the stairs leading to the 13th Floor.
His footsteps remained steady, showing not a single trace of hesitation as he descended into new territory.
13th, 14th, 15th, 16th Floors.
The monsters that remained incredibly lethal to Level 2 adventurers couldn't even survive a single exchange with him.
His sword was so fast that the monsters dissolved into black ash before the ferocious expressions could even fade from their faces.
Finally, he arrived at the 17th Floor—the entrance to the massive floor known as the Decisive Battle Plain.
Aiden took a deep breath and stepped into the vast, empty expanse filled with a faint scent of blood.
He didn't wait around for the monster to spawn like last time.
Instead, he simply walked to the very center of the Decisive Battle Plain and, like a warrior awaiting a divine inspection, gently stabbed his longsword into the ground by his feet.
Then, he sat down cross-legged, closed his eyes, and let his breathing turn steady and long.
He waited.
He waited for the monster that had once beaten him half to death, the three-phase Floor Boss birthed from the Dungeon's malice.
A minute passed.
Five minutes passed.
Ten minutes passed.
Aiden continued to sit in silence, looking as if he had melded into this deathly still space.
Finally, an imperceptible ripple twisted the air a short distance from his right foot.
It was the physical manifestation of a monster so powerful that the mere act of its "birth" exuded a crushing pressure on the surrounding environment.
That ripple expanded in all directions like a prairie fire.
BOOM—!
With a deafening explosion, a colossal, twisted figure that seemed to fill the entire space slowly descended from a rift in the world.
It was a giant with sickly pale skin, boasting a physical mass comparable to a small mountain.
It was hairless, its bald head covered in vicious bone spikes.
Its facial features were mashed together, forming an unreadable visage. Only its blood-red, pool-like eyes overflowed with tyrannical, bloodthirsty killing intent.
It was the very same Floor Boss that had once subjected Aiden to overwhelming pressure—the "Dead End Butcher."
The Dungeon hadn't disappointed him; instead of spawning the Goliath, it spawned the Dead End Butcher.
This time, there were no teammates and no backup. Aiden was entirely alone, facing off against this terrifying Level 5 monster.
"ROAARRR—!"
The Dead End Butcher let out an ear-shattering bellow, immediately locking onto the minuscule intruder, Aiden. It took a thunderous step, making the very earth quake, and hoisted its street-sign weapon high into the air. With the force of a falling mountain, it brought the weapon smashing down toward the cross-legged Aiden.
However, Aiden still didn't move.
He merely slowly opened his eyes.
[Alpha Inforce].
[Everlasting Flames].
In a flash, a surge of crimson flames erupted from within Aiden, completely engulfing him.
The longsword in his hand, wreathed in fire, let out an excited hum.
In his perception, the flow of time for the entire world seemed to have been put on slow motion.
He slowly stood up. Facing the crushing, mountain-leveling strike, he casually and effortlessly swung his sword.
No chanting, no charging up. Just a pure, blinding flash of crimson light that seemed eager to banish all the darkness in the Dungeon.
The first Lumina Slash.
Moving at a speed beyond the limits of visual perception, the crimson light struck later but arrived first, slicing perfectly into the Dead End Butcher's massive frame.
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