The worst part about punishment duty wasn't the work.
It wasn't the monsters.
It wasn't the cleanup crews.
It wasn't even Gareth.
Though he remained a strong contender.
No.
The worst part was that I was getting used to it.
That realization horrified me.
Two weeks ago I hated this job.
Now I knew where everything was.
I knew the patrol routes.
I knew the shift schedules.
I knew which storage buildings contained equipment.
I knew which cleanup crews carried snacks.
I even knew which dungeon gates tended to produce paperwork.
That last one was particularly disturbing.
A person should never become familiar with paperwork-producing dungeons.
Yet here I was.
A victim of circumstance.
The morning sun rose over the academy.
The dungeon district slowly awakened.
Workers moved between facilities.
Students on punishment duty prepared equipment.
Cleanup crews assembled.
Everything looked normal.
Unfortunately.
Normal never lasted.
The alarm sounded at precisely 9:17 AM.
Every person present froze.
Then immediately started moving.
A red flare erupted above one of the distant dungeon complexes.
Not my assigned B-Rank dungeon.
Nearby.
Larger.
Far more dangerous.
An A-Rank Dungeon.
Wonderful.
Exactly what I needed.
Excitement.
Gareth appeared beside me.
I still had no idea how he did that.
One moment he wasn't there.
The next he was.
Like a particularly aggressive natural disaster.
Gareth: "Move."
Benjamin: "I was having a bad day already."
Gareth: "Good."
Benjamin: "How does that help?"
Gareth: "You'll fit right in."
I hated that man.
The situation became clear quickly.
A dungeon breach.
Not a full break.
Not yet.
But several monster groups had forced their way beyond the containment zone.
The academy response teams were already mobilizing.
Staff.
Students.
Cleanup crews.
Anyone available.
Everyone moved.
Including me.
Because apparently being punished meant occasionally volunteering for death.
For free.
The emergency armory wasn't impressive.
Rows of standard equipment lined the walls.
Cheap.
Reliable.
Replaceable.
I grabbed the nearest sword.
E-Grade.
Mana-forged steel.
Completely average.
Which meant it was probably about to experience a tragic life expectancy.
The battlefield sat just outside the containment perimeter.
Several creatures had already escaped.
Large wolf-like monsters.
Insectoid creatures.
Something with far too many mouths.
A cleanup worker screamed.
A monster charged.
I stepped forward.
The sword felt light in my hand.
Comfortable.
Familiar.
It had been a while.
Dragon Fist was effective.
But people occasionally forgot something.
I was a Dragon Knight.
Not a professional boxer.
The first monster lunged.
I drew the blade.
One movement.
One strike.
The creature split apart.
The body hit the ground before it realized it was dead.
The sword hummed.
The mana channels glowed.
Good.
At least it was cooperating.
For now.
More monsters emerged.
Five.
Then ten.
Then twenty.
The response teams engaged immediately.
Spells filled the air.
Steel clashed against claws.
Explosions erupted.
Screams echoed.
Normal academy business.
I raised the blade.
Benjamin: "Burning Sword."
Flames erupted.
Not ordinary flames.
Dragon fire.
Crimson-gold.
Violent.
Hungry.
The E-Grade weapon immediately began regretting its existence.
Tiny cracks spread through the blade.
The runes glowed far brighter than intended.
The steel groaned.
I ignored it.
The sword ignored me.
Together we made poor decisions.
A slash.
Three monsters died.
Another slash.
Five more.
The flames spread across the battlefield.
Burning.
Cutting.
Erasing.
The technique wasn't elegant.
It didn't need to be.
Dead was dead.
Then shadows began dropping from the sky.
Not monsters.
Bullets.
The first round punched directly through the skull of an escaping beast.
The second removed another creature's head entirely.
The third killed something I hadn't even noticed.
I looked up.
Very high up.
White wings.
A rifle.
Enel.
Of course.
Monsters simply started dying.
No warning.
No dramatic buildup.
No speeches.
One moment they existed.
The next they didn't.
A creature sprinting toward the perimeter suddenly lost half its head.
Another exploded from the inside.
A third collapsed mid-jump.
I couldn't even hear the shots.
Only the results.
Terrifying.
Benjamin: "Show off."
The distant figure waved.
The battle continued.
Other punishment students joined the fight.
Some impressed me.
Most didn't.
One particularly unlucky student spent three minutes fighting a monster before realizing it was already dead.
Enel had killed it halfway through his introduction.
Eventually the situation stabilized.
The breach slowed.
Then stopped.
The containment teams regained control.
The surviving monsters were eliminated.
The emergency ended.
At last.
I lowered the sword.
The battlefield fell quiet.
Smoke drifted through the air.
Bodies covered the ground.
Academy staff immediately began assigning cleanup tasks.
Naturally.
Because the universe hated me.
Then I looked down.
The sword looked back.
Briefly.
A crack appeared.
Then another.
The mana channels shattered.
The runes collapsed.
The blade vibrated.
Benjamin: "You did your best."
The sword exploded into fragments.
Then dust.
Then nothing.
Gone.
A nearby student stared.
Student: "Was that supposed to happen?"
Benjamin: "No."
Student: "Shouldn't you be concerned?"
Benjamin: "It was E-Grade."
Student: "That's not an answer."
The student looked unconvinced.
I didn't care.
The cleanup phase began immediately afterward.
Monster remains.
Equipment recovery.
Barrier repairs.
Paperwork.
Always paperwork.
I hated paperwork.
More than monsters.
Which honestly said a lot.
By the time the sun began setting, I was exhausted.
Covered in dirt.
Covered in blood.
Covered in monster remains.
Again.
I sat on a crate overlooking the dungeon zone.
The academy slowly returned to normal.
Workers moved.
Students talked.
Life continued.
As though the entire morning hadn't nearly become a disaster.
I sighed.
Then leaned back.
And thought about something important.
Something comforting.
Something reliable.
The purple berry bush.
I missed it.
Terribly.
And somehow—
That was the most depressing realization of the entire day.