Live Dungeon!

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Several days later, Ealdred Crow’s Team 1 reached the eighty-fifth layer — deeper than they had ever ventured. But there, they were unceremoniously wiped out, helpless against the monsters waiting for them. The mid-boss, the Fallen Lich, commanded a vast legion of Fallen Angels that eclipsed the blood-red moon, each minion overwhelming them with the elements of light and darkness.

Before this, creatures that could manipulate both elements were rare, perhaps one appearing in the occasional battle. But beyond the eighty-fifth layer, their numbers swelled. Worse still, the Fallen Lich ambushed Explorers near the Black Gate itself, unleashing devastating sorcery that left them with little time to prepare. Without equipment specifically resistant to both light and dark, progress beyond this point teetered on the edge of impossibility.

Yet, despite the slaughter, Ealdred Crow seemed determined to continue their struggle against the eighty-fifth layer. For Absolute Helix, that meant it was prime time to gather the right equipment in secret before the attention was on them. But their efforts proved fruitless so far; after days of monster hunting with Silver Beast on the eighty-third layer, not a single treasure chest had appeared. The outlook was grim.

In the meantime, Weiss, leader of the Scarlet Devil Squad, returned from the Royal Capital. At his side was a mysterious girl, her identity supposedly vouched for by a noble house. Though the photographs that circulated masked her face, any Explorer who had seen her in the flesh before could instantly recognize who she was — Meena.

And sure enough, the capital had dispatched messenger knights, and they delivered a briefing to Absolute Helix about Orbis. They revealed that Meena was no ordinary girl, but a queen-type monster, one capable of commanding insect hordes. Should anyone try to kill her, she could unleash her swarm to raze cities or even threaten the Royal Capital.

Despite her destructive potential — enough to rival the devastation of the last Stampede — Meena apparently longed for a quiet, normal life. But her power could not simply be overlooked. It was decreed that Dungeon City would take her into custody. Weiss would accompany her whenever she went into town, and should she enter God’s Dungeon, she would be isolated within a multi-layered magical Shield, meticulously crafted by House Babenberg.

Although Meena had shattered Babenberg’s Shields during the last Stampede, this new one was different — fortified with immense time and magical energy. It was built to withstand even the devastating blasts of the Devourer Dragon — far more powerful than what Meena was capable of as an individual — and if she so much as tried to chip away at it, Master Babenberg and his children, whose senses were linked to it, would know in an instant.

“Haaah…” Tsutomu released a heavy sigh as he watched the knights exit, their briefing complete. Lately, his sighs had come often, mostly over the lack of treasure chests. But this one carried a weight all its own. Even Ollie’s apprentice, who entered the living room with a basket of laundry, started in surprise at the sound.

To Tsutomu, the Royal Capital’s actions were nothing more than a futile attempt to stave off the inevitable. Yes, if they tried to kill Meena, the city might face another Stampede. But if they left her alive, the insect hordes would only continue to grow. Sooner or later, the threat would become uncontainable. While there would be casualties, dealing with her now seemed far less disastrous than allowing the situation to spiral further out of control.

[I swear, when that knight started talking about the need for ‘a period of peace,’ I almost lost it.]

The knight had spoken those words — without a trace of shame — as though the Royal Capital had any right to demand peace after how sloppily they had handled the last Stampede. Tsutomu’s trust in them had long since evaporated. What had they even done to help?

While Explorers were fighting tooth and nail, while the situation crumbled on the frontlines — made worse by Brooklyn’s betrayal — the capital had been more concerned with their internal squabbles. Yes, sections of the city had been battered, but their losses were minimal compared to the devastation suffered by the Explorers, who paid in blood and lives. The capital’s only casualties of note were the knights who had accompanied Melchor, while many brave souls on the frontlines had perished with barely a whisper of recognition.

[I wonder how Ealdred Crow is handling this mess…]

Ealdred Crow had lost some of their best people during that catastrophe. Tsutomu could not be sure how their Clan would react to Meena’s continued existence, knowing her indirect role in those deaths. While Absolute Helix had emerged unscathed, if Amy or Garm or anyone else had fallen, Tsutomu knew he would have wanted Meena dead, no matter the cost.

If Ealdred Crow decided to go after her and sought Absolute Helix’s aid, Tsutomu would likely agree with them. Meena had to be dealt with. But he would not risk the lives of his own Clan members, not for someone else’s vendetta. If they asked for help, he would offer it — but in ways that would not endanger anyone he cared about.

[If this splits their Clan, things could get ugly. Can they even hold it together…?]

Ealdred Crow was a large Clan, and the larger the group, the harder it was to align everyone’s opinions. It would not be surprising if the issue of Meena tore them apart, with factions forming on both sides — those who believed in killing her and those who did not. Tsutomu had witnessed Clans crumble over far smaller disputes, the fractures too deep to mend. And with Ealdred Crow’s numbers, such a division could be catastrophic.

[I hope they hold out, at least until the ninetieth layer…]

Tsutomu had a selfish reason for wanting Ealdred Crow to stay intact, at least for a while longer. He wanted them to be the first to reach the ninetieth layer, so that Absolute Helix would not draw too much attention before they attempted to conquer the hundredth. For now, he could only hope Ealdred Crow would not collapse under the weight of their internal strife.

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“Are you kidding me!? You’re letting her LIVE after what she’s done? Enough of this nonsense! I’m going to kill her RIGHT NOW!” Tsongas, a member of Ealdred Crow, shouted at the messenger knight, his fury erupting like a storm.

“P-please, sir, calm down!” the knight stammered, fear creeping into his voice.

“And why the hell should I calm down? I’m sick of you damn knights! Who do you think you are, dumping all your problems on Dungeon City!? What were you even doing during the Stampede!? Tinkering with your precious Magic Tools while we were out there risking everything!? And those nobles, those royals sitting high and mighty — what have they ever done for us!? Nothing but sneers and insults! You’re all the same! Every last one of you!”

As Tsutomu had feared, Ealdred Crow’s anger over the Meena situation was palpable. Nine of their comrades had fallen in the last Stampede. Though the number might seem small on paper, each loss cut deeply. For those left behind — friends, lovers, comrades — there was no such thing as a small loss.

In earlier times, Explorers might have accepted death more readily, as long as compensation came to ease the blow. But since God’s Dungeon had made death impermanent — at least within its confines — the willingness to sacrifice their own had withered. The pain of losing people now felt sharper, more unjust.

“Calm down.”

Bittman — formerly a soldier, now the Attacker for Team 3 — stepped forward, cutting through Tsongas’s rage. He stood between Tsongas and the trembling messenger knight, his broad frame blocking the way. Tsongas’s glare, fierce enough to make even the knights recoil, locked onto him.

“…Bittman, are you really going to let this slide? How can I sleep at night knowing that MONSTER is in our city? Don’t you think we should end her now?”

The knight stammered a reply, “B-but, if you do that–”

“Oh, now you care about the Royal Capital being attacked by monsters? NOW? Hah, serve them right! Let them handle it themselves this time. My friends… Yomu, Misha, Gainer… they’re gone. DEAD! And you’re just going to let that thing live!!? What the hell is wrong with you!? I’m not the only one who thinks this is messed up, am I!?”

As Tsongas’s fury echoed in the room, the rest of the Clan fell into uneasy silence. Though they held their tongues, many agreed with him. The ones who had died were not just names; they were comrades, partners in battle, people they had laughed with, bled with. For some, they had even been friends — close enough to be introduced to one another’s families.

Tsongas had, in fact, visited their families, witnessing them grieving their losses. Driven by rage, slammed his fist into the iron desk. The metal groaned under the impact, buckling slightly. One of the knights, standing too close, flinched and fell backward in terror.

“If we kill that brat, you’ll only have to deal with insects. How strong can they be? Just kill them all and be done with it. What’s the Royal Capital so afraid of?”

“Tsongas, that girl can unleash monsters wherever she wants — not just at the capital. If she does, it’s the civilians who’ll suffer first.”

“So what, we just stand by and do nothing? You fought with those guys too, Bittman. You ate at the same table. You drank with them. How can you stay calm when they’re dead!?”

“Death is part of being an Explorer.”

“That’s ancient history!” Tsongas spat, grabbing Bittman by the collar and shaking him. “Now we don’t have to accept it! We don’t have to die like that anymore!”

But Bittman did not flinch. He did not even blink. He held Tsongas’s gaze with quiet resolve.

“Killing that girl won’t bring them back. It will only get more innocent people killed. You know that.”

For a moment, Tsongas’s grip tightened, his knuckles white with frustration. But then, with a growl of disgust, he let go, stepping back as if Bittman had betrayed him.

“…Tch. In the end, you’re just another lapdog for the knights. I thought you weren’t like the other ex-soldiers… Guess I was wrong.”

Tsongas, his rugged face hardened by years of battle and loss, turned away in bitter disappointment. Bittman, silent for a beat, allowed the weight of Tsongas’s words to settle. And for the first time, something flickered across Bittman’s stoic expression — something that looked a lot like sadness.

When Bittman had resigned from the army and joined the Explorers, Tsongas had been the one to push him around, testing the former soldier’s resolve. They had clashed often, but mutual respect had grown from the shared trials of battle. They had forged a bond, partnering up on more than one mission, drinking together at the end of long days, becoming close enough to trust one another in the heart of danger.

But now, that bond felt as though it had splintered. And Bittman, for all his calm, could not hide the regret in his eyes.

At that moment, a woman with pink hair in spiral curls stepped forward from behind Bittman, her gaze locking onto Tsongas. Her eyes, once soft and hesitant, now carried a sharpness that cut through the tension.

“Listen, Tsongas,” she began, her voice cold. “Bittman mourns our comrades just as deeply as you do. This in-fighting is pointless.”

“What?”

“Intimidating people left and right won’t change the truth.”

“So, you’re siding with him too, Stephanie?”

“Yes, I am. Killing that girl would only bring more suffering.”

Tsongas scoffed, his lip curling in disdain. “Looks like you’ve tossed aside any sense of compassion.”

The woman before him was no longer the timid, unassuming Stephanie they had once known. The transformation had been gradual but undeniable. Now she carried herself with the icy grace of someone who had earned her nickname — Ice Conductor. The other Clan members had struggled to understand this change, but one thing was clear: the old Stephanie, the one who might have been overwhelmed by Misha’s death, was gone.

“I don’t know about the eight others,” Stephanie continued, “but I know Misha wouldn’t want anyone to die seeking revenge in her name. We’re all grieving. As members of the same Clan. Drawing lines between us only dishonors their memory.”

“And what if Tsutomu had died during the Stampede? You’re close to him, aren’t you? Wouldn’t you want revenge then?”

“Whoa, Tsongas, don’t–!” Someone from the crowd interjected, as sharp glances flew in his direction, warning him that he had crossed a line.

Tsutomu was a delicate subject specifically for Stephanie. During the last Stampede, when Tsutomu had been trapped inside Brooklyn’s Shield perimeter, Stephanie had visibly broken down, her usual composure cracking. Tsongas, having witnessed her panic then, now threw the memory in her face. As if in response, the skill wisps swirling behind Stephanie began to glow more intensely, picking up speed.

“Hmm… Mister Tsutomu?” Stephanie tilted her head, her expression unreadable. “Who knows how I’d react? Even I can’t imagine it.”

“You wouldn’t be so calm, I’ll bet.”

“Perhaps not. But that’s irrelevant to the current moment — it’s a hypothetical. There’s no point in speculating.” She paused for a moment. “I’ll follow whatever decision Rook, our Clan leader, makes. If you have a problem with that, Tsongas, the door is open. You can leave Ealdred Crow anytime.”

“…Tch,” Tsongas spat in frustration.

The weight of Stephanie’s words lingered — he could leave anytime. He could tell she was not bluffing. In fact, everyone knew she herself had come close to taking her own advice. She had threatened to quit the Clan when Tsutomu’s life had been endangered during the Stampede, enraged by how no one had acted quickly enough to rescue him. Only Rook’s intervention had convinced her to stay; those among the upper ranks knew they would have lost her otherwise.

The Clan had changed. What had simply been a solidly structured organization, lauded for its stability and strength, had shifted in the last six months. Since the Clan’s windfall from the Ice Magic Stones, the atmosphere had become charged with ambition and privilege. The benefits for its members and employees had soared, and with that, a kind of golden cage had formed around them. Talk of quitting had become unthinkable.

Even Tsongas, with his deep-seated need for revenge, could not afford to abandon his position in Team 3. The perks, the pay, the prestige — it was all too much to walk away from, no matter how much anger burned in his chest.

Later, Rook would address the entire Clan, making it clear that Ealdred Crow would not pursue Meena. It was a decision that left the room heavy with silence. No one left the Clan that day, but the rifts that had formed among their members were undeniable.

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