Live Dungeon!

”Man, that Fallen Lich sure was tough!” Tsutomu’s voice rang out in an attempt to break the silence.

”……” Diniel, unsurprisingly, offered no response. Her face remained as blank and inscrutable as ever.

Not particularly disappointed, Tsutomu busied himself with the tedious task of collecting the scattered Light and Dark Magic Stones littering the ground.

Their party’s setup had been unconventional to begin with — one Healer, three Tanks, and a single Attacker – a far cry from a standard team composition. To complicate matters, Diniel was still acclimating to her new bow, and none of them had yet reached the optimal level of 80 for this layer. And yet, against all odds, they had prevailed. The Fallen Lich had fallen… albeit after an excruciatingly long battle.

The reason for their victory was, in large part, equipment. Each of them had come armed with gear procured from the treasure chests of the earlier Light and Darkness layers. Even Tsutomu and Diniel, ordinarily ill-suited for withstanding hits, had held their ground against the devastating dark-elemental area attacks that the Fallen Lich unleashed in its later phases. The three Tanks, clad in monochrome armor, had borne the brunt of the damage, their well-fortified defenses enabling them to mitigate the worst of the onslaught. Their weapons, too, were effective against the enemy’s weaknesses, allowing even the Tanks to effectively chip away at the monster’s formidable health pool.

”I’m sorry, I took a lot of hits during that fight,” Daryl mumbled, breaking the silence.

”Now, don’t worry about it!” Xeno replied, his tone bright but firm.

”Xeno… you, on the other hand, SHOULD worry about it!” Tsutomu said. ”Just because you’re a Paladin with Light-element resistance doesn’t mean you can afford to play recklessly. How many times do I have to tell you that? I was honestly tempted to cut off your healing and let you die.”

”OH NO…! My bad!!”

Xeno’s sheepish laugh echoed awkwardly in the air, but the point was made. The Fallen Angels and the Fallen Lich alike wielded light and dark-elemental attacks, making proper gear essential. Yet despite their preparations, both Daryl and Xeno had struggled a fair bit to adapt, with Xeno’s reckless bravado nearly costing the team dearly. Tsutomu had meant what he said — he had genuinely considered letting Xeno’s misjudgments result in a lesson he might just remember.

In stark contrast, Garm had been a masterclass in discipline. His deft handling of his black tower shield and white armor had minimized damage. This kind of adaptability could not be learned overnight; it was the product of years spent at the forefront of Dungeon exploration, where survival often hinged on such split-second decisions. Without those hard-earned skills, Garm would not have lasted.

What impressed Tsutomu even more, however, was Garm’s restraint. In this battle, Garm had not relied on his experimental strategy of pushing his body to its limits — a gamble Tsutomu had quietly chosen not to comment on.

”You did great too, Diniel. And again… I’m sorry, okay?”

”……”

Diniel, still as impassive as ever, glanced Tsutomu’s way, her expression so devoid of warmth it felt almost hostile, and her bow seemed more threatening in her silence than any words could have been. Talking to her now felt like treading a minefield, but Tsutomu had no choice but to press on.

”But you know, seeing how well you were doing, I just thought, ‘Maybe we can pull this off!’ Sorry for pushing you so hard.”

”……”

Her lack of response did not bother him. Actions spoke louder than words, and her contributions had been undeniable. While Tsutomu had done his part in supporting the offense and the Tanks had chipped away at the Fallen Angels’ numbers, the team’s victory rested squarely on Diniel’s shoulders. Her precision and poise under pressure — these were what had carried them through.

While Amira’s [ unleashed bursts of devastating power, its energy demands were punishing. The transformation always left her drained and vulnerable midway through any prolonged battle. Amy, by contrast, had the stamina for extended engagements but lacked a single, defining strength to capitalize on. As for Leleia, her versatility was her greatest asset, but she did not excel at a single role, which sometimes rendered her contributions inconsistent.

Diniel, however, was an entirely different story. Her mastery of the Archer Job, paired with her remarkable precision, allowed her to exploit enemy weaknesses with ruthless efficiency. She wielded her skills with the finesse of a seasoned artisan, striking with unerring accuracy while conserving energy for when it mattered most. This knack for pacing herself made her invaluable in drawn-out encounters where endurance was the deciding factor.

Though Diniel often carried an air of nonchalance, her lethargic demeanor concealed a sharp edge. When the moment called for it, she delivered in spades. Her damage output rivaled Amira’s bursts of draconic fury, while her stamina far outstripped Amy’s and Leleia’s. Thanks to Diniel’s contributions, the party’s unconventional setup — relying on a single Attacker — had not resulted in the expected firepower deficit, and as such, they had triumphed over the Fallen Lich and its horde of Fallen Angels.

That said, it had not been smooth sailing. Diniel had not been informed ahead of time that the party’s goal was to take down the Fallen Lich. She had entered the fray expecting a straightforward test of her newly acquired bow. Being thrust into an extended, high-stakes battle under less-than-ideal conditions was enough to sour her mood, and her current demeanor made it clear she had yet to forgive Tsutomu.

”Hold out your arm,” she flatly said.

”…You’re not going to snap your hair tie on me again, are you?”

”When it comes to things you hate, Tsutomu, that’s my go-to. Ideally, I’d put an arrow through your knee, but Amy would probably scold me later, so…”

”It’s terrifying when you say that with that face. Fine, here.”

Tsutomu grimaced, eyeing Diniel warily as he extended his arm. Her deadpan delivery was unnervingly convincing, and he could not tell if she was joking. He had braced himself for her backlash; after all, it had been his majority-rules decision to press on and confront the Fallen Lich. If a snapped hair tie was the full extent of her wrath, he would count himself lucky. ⱤἁΝОΒË𝒮

Diniel reached up and untied her ponytail, then slipped the hair tie onto Tsutomu’s exposed wrist. Then she stretched it up and made a motion as if to release it, causing Tsutomu to flinch preemptively.

The snap never came.

When Tsutomu opened his eyes, puzzled, he found Diniel leaning in close, her expression one of detached amusement — like a scientist studying a particularly pitiful test subject.

”…Hey, that’s a pretty nasty hobby you’ve got there,” he muttered, instinctively recoiling.

”There’s no other Explorer who’d be this scared of something as trivial as a snapped hair tie,” she replied, her voice light but cutting. ”Makes me wonder what kind of face you’d make if you died.”

Tsutomu’s expression twisted into a grimace, and Diniel’s faint smirk only deepened. After a series of feints that left him flinching in vain, she finally let the hair tie snap against his arm with a sharp thwack.

Meanwhile, Garm and the others, who had been observing the exchange from a safe distance, all wore identical looks of bemusement. Their silent expressions seemed to ask the same question: [What are those two even doing?]

Once they finished gathering the scattered Magic Stones and recorded their layer progress, the party made their way back to the Guild. It was now just around noon. While the others busied themselves with preparations for lunch — some heading to the restroom, others ordering their meals at the dining hall — Tsutomu found himself drawn to the rows of smaller Monitors. He wandered among them, scanning the displays for a glimpse of Camille’s party. However, instead, his eyes caught the activity of Absolute Helix’s other team.

From what he could see, they were holding their own against the formidable Shell Crab, with all five members still active. At the forefront, Hannah, the party’s sole Tank, danced through the Crab’s deadly attacks with precise and graceful movements. Meanwhile, Amy, perched on the Crab’s back in her [ — a transformation achieved through [ — tore viciously through its thick armored shell, her strikes echoing like a miner’s pick chipping away at stone.

The Shell Crab retaliated, spewing a viscous white liquid skyward. Amy, mid-attack, barely evaded the sticky substance. The creature did not relent. With its massive left pincer, it intercepted Amira’s greatsword, deflecting her powerful swing with unsettling ease before lunging forward to shove her back. Then, as if defying logic, the massive Crab sank into the ground, its bulk disappearing in a flash before reemerging like a bullet.

[…I don’t think I’ve seen this kind of behavior before.]

Tsutomu narrowed his eyes, studying the display. Occasionally, he encountered monsters that acted in ways deviating from his knowledge, but this mutated Shell Crab was a complete enigma. Its strange, almost tactical movements unnerved him. If this were Live Dungeon, the sight of such an unpredictable foe might have filled him with an eager curiosity, a thrill at the prospect of facing an unknown challenge. But here and now, he wanted nothing to do with it.

Even with the upcoming boss of the ninetieth layer — a fight for which he had detailed prior information — Tsutomu preferred to let Ealdred Crow go in first, serving as the guinea pig. The thought of eventually reaching the hundredth layer, where no vanguard would be available, left a cold weight settling in his stomach. Facing a mutated Shell Crab — something totally unrelated to his personal quest — was the last thing he wanted.

”Korinna is doing an amazing job!”

”…Yeah, she is.”

Tsutomu was slightly startled as Daryl appeared behind him, his cheerful voice cutting through Tsutomu’s thoughts. The younger man beamed, his eyes alight with admiration as he stared at the Monitor. On-screen, Korinna seemed free of her usual soft, calming aura; in its place was a Healer entirely in the zone, her every action precise and effective. The nervous energy coursing through her had elevated her performance, lending her a degree of clarity and decisiveness Tsutomu hadn’t seen from her before.

Daryl’s grin widened. ”It’s because you trusted her, Sir Tsutomu! With how Shell Crabs are trending right now, the responsibility of her assignment must’ve made her feel extra motivated!”

Tsutomu resisted the urge to sigh. It was true that he’d entrusted Korinna with the Healer role for her party’s attempt to conquer the fiftieth layer, but he couldn’t ignore the less noble reason behind his decision: his own reluctance to risk himself in the challenge. Now, seeing Daryl’s unshakeable enthusiasm and Korinna’s determination — borne of a misinterpretation of an earlier conversation — a pang of guilt twisted in his chest.

”Uh, Daryl,” Tsutomu muttered, deflecting. ”You should go grab lunch.”

”Oh… yes, sir!” Daryl clutched his meal ticket. ”Save a seat over here for me — I want to keep watching, too!”

With that, Daryl dashed off toward the dining hall. With a sigh, Tsutomu returned his attention to the Monitor. Korinna’s party continued their battle, while Tsutomu’s expression remained conflicted.