Journey to Become the Zenith

The Sixteenth Floor, Where Steel Trembled

Victor’s group had reached the Sixteenth Floor.

From the moment they entered the Dungeon until now, Victor had never needed to lift a finger.

Not once.

The deeper they went, the heavier the air became—thick with ancient mana, humming against the skin like a low chant. The walls glowed faintly with that pale, unnatural light, but here on the Sixteenth Floor, the radiance was colder. Sharper. Like steel under moonlight.

Clara had begun assisting Lane from the Twelfth Floor onward.

At first, she had restrained herself. She was here to observe. To evaluate. To grade.

But as the monsters grew fiercer, as Lane’s breathing grew heavier and small tears began appearing across her armor, Clara could no longer remain still.

Even if this was a test—

She wouldn’t stand by and watch Lane get hurt.

At this point, both she and Lane bore scratches across their armor. Cloth torn. Metal dented. Yet thanks to Lane’s healing spell—now called [Verdant Rebirth]—their skin remained unbroken, smooth beneath the battered plating.

They were fighting with their lives on the line.

Victor was studying the walls.

His fingers brushed along the stone again, golden eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

Because he had found something.

Something... deeply unsettling.

Though not identical, the layout of this Dungeon—the angles of the corridors, the reinforcement pattern within the stone, the mana flow within the walls—was eerily similar to the fortresses humans had constructed in his previous life.

Back then—

He had been Anos.

The Demon Lord.

It had been during his confrontation with the Fourth Hero that humanity achieved a breakthrough. They had learned to fortify their walls with a material capable of withstanding relentless magical bombardment—stone infused with layered anti-magic matrices.

It blocked magical senses.

It endured direct assaults from dozens of Master-class magicians.

It was their desperate shield against him.

Yet even then—

They had failed to stop Anos.

The walls had cracked.

The kingdoms had burned.

But this material...

Victor pressed his palm flat against the Dungeon wall.

Similar.

Yet not the same.

The old fortresses resisted magic.

This material... negated it to a certain extent.

A more refined concept.

Its properties reminded him faintly of Amura—the spirit of his greatsword—her steel-colored eyes calm and calculating. The negation wasn’t as absolute as hers, but the foundation was unmistakable.

Someone had studied that principle.

Someone had improved it.

Even without the magic-negating property, this structure could endure for millennia.

Who built this?

And why?

While Victor’s thoughts spiraled through centuries of memory—

The battle behind him intensified.

A massive creature emerged from the darkness.

Not a steel golem.

Not a suit of armor.

This one was worse.

A towering Abyssal War Colossus—a humanoid construct carved from black obsidian and reinforced with glowing crimson veins of mana. Its eyes burned like furnace coals. Spiked chains hung from its wrists, scraping against stone with every movement.

At least twelve feet tall.

Its presence alone shook the floor.

This was a subjugation-class monster.

One that typically required five A-rank adventurers working in perfect coordination to defeat.

And yet—

Clara and Lane stood before it.

Clara spun her spear once, purple eyes sharp.

Lane stepped lightly to the side, black hair flowing behind her, fingers glowing faint green as mana gathered.

They moved.

Clara closed distance first.

Out of rhythm came her movements, yet each one measured. Short jabs broke the air, followed by slips and fake advances. The spear moved like a pivot point, turning heavy swings aside without waste. Weight shifted clean through metal, guiding force off balance instead of meeting it head on.

Lane supported from mid-range.

Now it was [Gale Crescent] instead of [Wind Slice], tight curves of wind cutting through the air, denser, more focused. She shifted her stance just before release, like snapping a whip sideways under pressure. The motion left ripples behind, faint trails twisting where the air split clean.

Arrows flew sharper once she wove [Emerald Reinforcement] into each strike. Sometimes, that glow caught Clara’s spear mid-thrust - just long enough to bite deeper.

Together, their timing just flowed.

With a quick motion, Clara caught the Colossus’s chain. Its body turned sharply as she pulled. The metal links held tight, shifting the giant sideways

Lane would fire.

A flash of green cut through the air, aimed at the open side.

A thunderous shout ripped from the giant as it drove its fist down hard, splitting the earth beneath. Cracks raced away like startled insects.

The shockwave knocked Clara back.

Lane rushed forward immediately, chanting under her breath and casting [Verdant Rebirth], a soft emerald glow enveloping Clara and mending bruised muscle beneath armor.

Minutes passed.

Then twenty.

Then thirty.

They were sweating.

Breathing heavily.

Clara’s blonde hair clung to her cheeks. Lane’s fingers trembled faintly from overexertion.

Still—

Victor did not move.

He wasn’t indifferent.

He was watching.

Measuring.

This opponent was stronger than them—but not overwhelmingly so.

This was the edge.

The place where growth happens.

No training dummy.

No safe sparring match.

Only pressure.

Only survival.

If they broke through here—

They would ascend.

Still, his senses remained open.

If either of them truly crossed the line into danger—

He would step in.

Without hesitation.

While Victor considered himself a rather excellent mentor in that moment—

Clara and Lane changed tactics.

They began focusing all their attacks on a single point—the center of the Colossus’s chest, where the crimson veins converged.

At first, they hadn’t noticed.

They could barely scratch it.

But after repeated impacts—

The Colossus began guarding that area.

Subtle.

But clear.

So they pressed the advantage.

Clara shifted her stance.

Instead of trading blows, she began aggressively baiting attacks, forcing the Colossus to commit its chains wide.

Lane stopped firing sporadically.

She waited.

Measured.

The moment Clara redirected both chains outward—

Lane unleashed a rapid volley.

Five arrows.

Then five more.

All targeting the same point.

Clara pivoted sharply, channeling mana into her spear and shouting as she thrust it forward, the tip glowing violet.

The armor cracked.

A fissure formed.

They didn’t stop.

Clara roared, lunging again.

Lane abandoned her bow entirely.

She began chanting.

A new spell formed around her—twelve small spheres of condensed flame, hovering like orbiting stars.

[Crimson Delayed Starfall].

She held them.

Stabilized them.

Waited.

Clara noticed immediately.

Understanding flashed between them.

She infused her spear with mana and hurled it directly into the Colossus’s chest, the impact staggering the giant construct backward.

For a single second—

The fissure widened.

Lane’s eyes sharpened.

She released all twelve delayed flames into the crack.

They disappeared inside the Colossus.

Then—

She snapped her fingers.

All twelve detonated simultaneously.

The explosion erupted from within.

A deafening boom shook the Sixteenth Floor.

The Abyssal War Colossus shattered from the inside out, fragments of obsidian scattering before dissolving into drifting mana.

Silence followed.

The two girls collapsed to their knees.

Panting.

Sweat-soaked.

Exhausted.

”Good job, both of you.”

Victor’s applause echoed through the chamber.

Lane lifted her head, chest rising and falling heavily.

Her face remained calm.

But inside—

Fireworks.

Yay! Victor praised me! It’s been so long since he praised me! Does that mean I grew even more powerful today? So that means I’m getting closer to him?

She nearly smiled.

Nearly.

Clara, however, glared at him.

Good job?

We nearly died.

He didn’t even lift a finger.

Her purple eyes burned.

What is wrong with this man?

”So you two just rest here for a while,” Victor continued casually. ”I’m going on ahead and will be clearing the path for you two.”

Clara opened her mouth—

But no sound came.

Her body refused to obey.

She watched helplessly as Victor turned and walked deeper into the Dungeon alone, black hair swaying slightly, posture relaxed.

Her mind twisted with frustration.

She didn’t like his arrogance.

Didn’t like the way he treated danger like a game.

But—

She didn’t want him to die.

Not like this.

Not alone.

She forced her legs to move.

They trembled violently.

Refused.

No strength remained.

She clenched her jaw.

I hope you’re still alive when I get to you.

Those were Clara’s last thoughts before she closed her eyes and entered meditation, gathering what little mana she had left.

Lane, on the other hand—

Simply lay down.

And fell asleep.

In her eyes, Victor was invincible.

Worrying about him felt idiotic.