No one wanted this to happen—but reality didn't care.
No one wanted to be killed so easily.Monsters didn't either.
So Xien decided to gamble everything.
He stopped feeding life-force into the plants he had created and sprinted toward the monster that embodied brute power.
A fast scan of the battlefield told him one thing:
The timing was right.
Besides… if the boss fight ended with him playing healer the entire time—throwing out one control spell and calling it a day—then what was the point? That was way too little presence.
So he drew his longsword.
Perfect.
He'd use it to test just how far his strongest strike could reach now.
Heat surged in his chest—like the pulse of life itself.
Abundance flowed through him, reinforcing his body and lacing itself along the blade.In that instant, he heard it—
the weapon's breathing.
It was answering him.
He shifted into his breathing technique.
The moment he moved, Xien became a streak of fire, blasting forward—his speed and pressure spiking sharply.
His sudden eruption naturally drew attention.
But faced with this small thing that now felt dangerous, the monsters couldn't stop him.
Not now.
Not at this moment.
Nothing could.
The twin-tomoe sharpened his reactions. He slipped past azure flame that would have peeled flesh off bone.The transparent world opened everything to him—revealing the most fragile line on that steel-hard neck.
And the martial skill forged through endless repetition surged into his hands.
"One Thought—God and Demon."
It brought forth an edge that could cleave through anything.
At that moment, his mind held only one command:
Cut it down.
In a flare like a blazing sun, the potential sleeping inside him ignited.On the sword, starlight—hope itself—sparked within flame.
Blazing Heart Aflame gave him the power to swing.
Carrying everyone's expectations, he brought the strike down.
"Hero" answered—pouring the will of his comrades into the blow.
"Astrea's Hearthfire."
The sword-light passed through.
There was a crisp, effortless smoothness—Xien knew immediately.
He'd done it.
"—ROAR!"
A line of incandescent fire flashed across the floor boss.It punched through dragon scales, tore open flesh, and erupted into a blooming spray of blood—
only to be swallowed by light.
The result was absolute:
A massive head separated from the body.
The red-eyed head tore free, dropping away from the neck.
Xien fell with it.
The dragon's face rolled back, eyes whitening, and a towering water column blasted upward.
One head severed, the remaining head shrieked—howling for revenge.It wanted to kill the one who had taken its other half. It wanted him dead.
But blinded by hatred, it failed to notice:
The attack wasn't finished.
The real killing blow was next.
The strongest in the team—Alysse and Ryuu—had already finished off the enemies that were tying them down.
The captain's voice rang out.
Years of fighting together made Ryuu understand instantly. Wrapped in high-speed motion, she shot into position.
Wind fanned fire.
Red Righteous Flower and Gale—combined.
Wind and flame synchronized, heart and intent becoming one—
"Crimson Lotus."
Before the boss could even react, a tornado of red-hot wind carved through dragon flesh.It ripped the body open, blood spilling like a river, and shattered the blue-purple massive magic stone buried deep inside.
With its magic stone destroyed, Amphisbaena's body lost its shape.
Then, like an insane collapse—
azure flame blossomed everywhere.
A terrifying explosion thundered out, and in a single heartbeat, the cavern was drowned in a blinding, high-temperature blue-white glare.
They had anticipated this.
Everyone retreated at once.
A figure wrapped in emerald light snatched Xien from where he floated atop shattered ice and pulled him clear.
Moments later—
Within a space where azure flames still danced and writhed, everyone regrouped on an ice slab near the center of the lake—one of the few places the fire hadn't reached.
They ran a quick check on Xien's condition.
Looking around…
Everyone was here.
Everyone was alive.
Their faces were tired—but their eyes were lit, spirits running hot.
"All of us… alive. In one piece…"
"Not bad," Tsubaki said with a grin. "Everyone. We did it again. Congratulations."
As if to prove their achievement, drops from the subjugation—"Amphisbaena's Dragon Liver," "Dragon Fang," "Dragon Hide"—floated to the side of the ice. The prum carefully secured the priceless loot.
And with Xien's help, a faint green glow wrapped around the team, slowly restoring them.
Alysse looked at the scene—this hard-won, quiet harmony—and smiled from the heart.
It was over.
They had truly defeated the Level 5-class floor boss—
Amphisbaena, the "Lonely King of the Labyrinth."
The process had been brutal, but the result was worth everything. Once again, they had pushed past their limits.
The enormous experience and "excelia" from the floor boss distributed itself automatically according to contribution. By now, the expedition's gains were already immense.
But it wasn't enough.
With Xien as a recovery anchor, their endurance was absurd. Everyone still had fuel left, and morale was blazing.
So they kept going.
Downward—into the next floor.
The expedition advanced, and if anything, their momentum only grew wilder.Killing a second floor boss lifted their confidence into a higher gear.
Walking in the middle of the formation, Xien suddenly raised his weapon.
In a way no one else could see clearly, the blade trembled—like it was responding to the will of its creator. He felt something gentle, something intimate, flowing from it.
It was obvious.
After being saturated with Abundance, the weapon had been vivified.
That confirmed a suspicion Xien had been forming:
This power wasn't limited to living things.
It could activate anything.
The weapon… wanted something.
It wanted Xien to give it a name—like a proof that it had the right to exist.
Only when it "asked" did Xien realize:
He'd used this weapon for a long time, yet he'd never once thought to name it.
Had he been treating it as a temporary tool without even noticing?
Apparently so.
As that thought slipped through his mind, he felt the emotion coming from the blade—
a clear, unmistakable sadness.
Even the edge seemed to dull slightly.
Xien couldn't help clicking his tongue in amazement. Then he soothed it with intent.
If it now carried life, he couldn't treat it the old way anymore.
A name…
He thought for a moment, then decided.
"Candleflame."
A flame that might be small—but still lights the dark.
"And you," Xien promised quietly, "will grow with me. You'll become stronger—again and again."
Candleflame accepted his intent.
It gave a faint, trembling ring—answering the creator's expectation.
It would follow him.It would grow.
Xien smiled, satisfied, and sheathed Candleflame.
There would be time later to let its edge shine.
Through their connection, he understood what had changed.
First: it gained self-repair, and its overall durability rose.It became sharper and tougher—an essentially permanent, all-around enhancement. And if Xien fed it Abundance, it could repair damage rapidly. Even without that, it would heal on its own—it would just take much longer.
Second: it could grow by devouring other metals or suitable materials.Depending on what it absorbed, it could gain corresponding traits and attribute boosts.
Two changes—both utterly unbelievable.
With one experiment, Xien had obtained a weapon that could grow.
It cracked his thinking wide open.
His gaze drifted—quietly—to the equipment on his body…
Somewhere on a certain floor—
Ragged breathing echoed. Life-bearing fluid poured like a spill of amniotic water, calling for new birth.
The ceiling, walls, and ground of the floor region were all rock, while moss flourished along the corridors, glowing blue and green, shaping the scenery into something like a hidden sanctuary.
A monster's roar thundered, making leaves of every shape tremble, and strange flowers—beaded with silvery droplets—sway in response.
Deep in the rarely visited lower reaches of the "Water Labyrinth City," inside a river—
An abnormal figure was fleeing with all its strength.
The figure was graceful, fragile—possessing an upper body and face like a young girl.Emerald hair shimmered beneath mosslight.
And it wasn't only that beautiful, soft long hair.
Its skin was pale, almost translucent blue.
Tiny scales grew along its shoulders and waist, more inhuman than even an elf's twisted pointed ears.
That pale-blue body—and the fish tail below—
All of it was proof of one fact:
It was a monster.
It swam upstream desperately, pushing toward the higher floors.
"Why…?"
It was bleeding.
Blood streamed with the current, leaving a trail for hunters to follow.
Claw marks, fang tears, sword cuts—its body bore multiple rending wounds. Bright red drops fell again and again.
Its shoulder split open, scales torn, pale-blue flesh dyed crimson.
"Why…?"
Fear filled its eyes. Confusion. And grief.
Along with red droplets, clear beads mixed into the water and drifted behind it.
Tears spilled from its beautiful amber eyes. Its slender throat trembled.
"Why…?"
What escaped its small lips wasn't an ugly monster cry.
It was a hoarse, sorrowful whisper.
It could speak.
A voice like a sobbing child.
As if disgusted by the mere act of asking, multiple monster roars surged from the tangled darkness behind it.
Its emerald hair and thin shoulders jerked in fright.
A face so perfectly shaped it could be called breathtaking—
now twisted by tears.
A monster—
"She"—
was crying.
"Why does everyone…!"
She was alone.
Freshly born from the Labyrinth, she knew nothing—and yet everything rejected her.
After breaking through the wall and emerging, she understood nothing. She wandered through cold, dark waters.
When unease swallowed her, she caught a scent—something like herself. So she followed instinct toward it.
Before long, in a corner of the labyrinth, she encountered a larger snake-type monster.
Naturally, she stepped forward and asked:
"Where is this…?"
The answer was a savage roar.
And an attack.
The snake monster hissed, opened its fangs, and lunged to tear her apart.
She couldn't understand what was happening.She could only run—driven by terror.
As chaos seized her whole body, the fresh red blood and the first pain she had ever known shoved her consciousness toward a fear-drowned abyss.
After that, she was attacked again and again.
Different shapes, different bodies—every "kin" she met threatened her life.
Not once did it change.
Wounded more and more, she forced down the thing that wanted to overflow her eyes.
Then she fled the deep labyrinth.
Exhausted, she finally saw beings different from herself and the monsters.
Humans—carrying swords and bows she didn't recognize.
A pair with long ears like elves—male and female—leaning into each other like lovers keeping watch.
Their gentle, peaceful expressions stirred envy inside her, and without realizing it, she surfaced and approached them.
She tried to keep her voice small, afraid of scaring them.
She hid the sharp claws extending from her fingers, opened her lips—
She wanted to say:
Help me.
But of course—
In the next instant, a sword cut into her.
They were even more shaken and confused than she was—faces twisted with fear and disgust as they rejected her.
Faced with that hostility, she fled.
The man swung his sword wildly, madness in his eyes.The woman's face went blue as she screamed and raised her bow.
Arrows struck her back again and again, and finally—
the monster's tears fell.
It hurt.
It was painful.
It was unbearable.
The scales that deflected arrowheads cracked under impact, and the shoulder that had been hacked open burned like fire.
She was pushed away, excluded, rejected by the world around her.
From the moment she was born, she had been branded as an aberration.
Why?
Why?
She asked herself again and again.
It was terrifying.
She was so afraid.
She couldn't stop the sobbing.
She cried without end.
"What… am I…!?"
She asked, but the labyrinth that birthed her gave no answer.
Now she feared everything.
She could only flee in panic, propelling herself with her fish tail.
She relied on the latent ability that made her a "monster" to escape pursuers, dodge incoming beasts, and keep moving alone through the water.
Transparent tears fell again from amber eyes.
They were going to catch her.
Her abundant stamina was almost gone—drained by wounds and endless flight.
It was a hunter's method: let the prey struggle and fear until it loses its last breath of strength—then take it easily.
"I… can't…"
"How far… do I have to run…? Someone… please… save me…"
She despaired.
And then—
A sound came from the surface ahead.
And with it…
a brilliant red.
....
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