"Get out of my way!"
They could stand upright on two legs, towering four meters tall with a sharp rhino horn on their heads. Once they built up speed and charged, the damage they dealt was nothing to scoff at.
The real issue was that these Rhino Men never appeared alone—they always came in groups.
With numbers as their greatest advantage, a herd of Rhino Men launching a unified charge posed one of the greatest threats to adventurers.
Bete knew this all too well. The moment he saw them preparing to charge, he rushed forward, swung his leg, and kicked the front Rhino Man aside.
"GAAAHHH!"
The kicked Rhino Man crashed into others lining up behind it, instantly plunging the entire herd into chaos.
"You old hag!"
A vein popped on Riveria's forehead as she continued her chant.
"...Burn all to cinders—Sword of Surtr—My Name is Alf!"
Flames burst from the ground, ceiling, and walls, wiping out all darkness on the 34th floor and turning the world into a sea of blazing red.
Countless monsters charging behind the Rhino Men were swallowed by fire in an instant, reduced to drifting gray ash.
"Nice work, old hag."
Riveria, who had just exhaled in relief, nearly felt her blood pressure spike at that "old hag." Unable to suppress her anger, she gripped her staff and lunged straight at Bete in a single motion.
"Huh?"
As a Lv.7 mage, Riveria had long trained her agility and dexterity. With that kind of level gap, Bete could only see a blur whipping toward his face.
Before he could react, his face met the staff directly.
Thud!
He flew backward like a dead mutt being swatted away, his face slamming into the ground. After sliding across the floor with zero distance between skin and stone, he lay sprawled out, unable to move.
No one could bear to watch.
At the very least, everyone agreed Bete had absolutely earned that beating.
"So fast!"
"Right? Lady Riveria may be a mage, but her speed is no joke. She even sent Bete flying with a single hit. She really has trained her speed and strength."
Elves were naturally inclined toward agility, dexterity, and Magic power. Strength and endurance were their weakest areas. That was why elves especially focused on agility and dexterity training—more so for artillery-type mage specialists.
As one of the strongest artillery-type mages among elves, Riveria constantly pushed herself at every level. Because of that, her speed was only slightly behind Bete's.
And once she reached Lv.7, the speed gap she had at Lv.6 disappeared—she surpassed him again.
Listening to the praise from her fellow elves, Lefiya forced herself to suppress her twitching lips.
'Lady Riveria just hates being called an old hag.'
Still, Lefiya couldn't blame her. No woman wanted to be called an "old hag."
Elves lived far longer than humans; centuries were merely adolescence.
For elves of royal blood, even several centuries might still be childhood.
In simple terms, Riveria may be over a hundred years old, but technically speaking, she was still at the level of a little girl.
Calling a little girl an "old hag" was something no one could accept.
Holding her staff, Lefiya walked over to Bete, who was trembling as he tried to push himself off the ground.
"Bete-san, you really shouldn't use the term 'old hag.'"
"Oh..."
Bete's face was covered in a large red mark, with a deep imprint that—on closer inspection—perfectly matched the shape of Riveria's staff.
"Damn it, I was complimenting her."
"..."
Lefiya had no idea how to respond. Still, she knew Bete wasn't trying to insult Riveria; at most, he had just spoken whatever was in his heart.
"'Old hag' isn't a compliment."
Before Bete could snap back, Gareth approached with his giant axe slung over his shoulder.
"Kid, look at the timing."
Gareth didn't particularly mind Bete's antics, especially the "old hag" part—he even felt it suited Riveria's age nicely.
But normally acceptable behavior wasn't acceptable right now.
"Put that energy toward the trouble we're about to face."
"Tch."
Bete curled his lip but didn't deny it. Ahead waited a pack of raving lunatics—maniacs willing to charge in with Flame Stones and blow themselves up. If he lost focus for even a moment, it would end in catastrophe.
"Old man, everything should be clear in there now, right?"
...
Bete wasn't afraid of a large number of enemies; what he wanted most right now was strong opponents. But the complicated terrain inside the enemy base still concerned him.
No matter how strong he was—no matter how strong they were—if they were forced into terrain stacked against them, the consequences could be serious.
"You don't need to worry about what's inside. Just put everything into dealing with the enemy."
"This time, we're facing fifty-four Level 5 Spirit Elite Soldiers. If you don't want to die, fight with everything you've got."
Gareth reminded him again.
He knew the threat of these Spirit Elite Soldiers had dropped somewhat, but that last life-and-death battle had only lowered the casualty rate—not erased it.
If they ran out of strength while facing multiple Spirit Elite Soldiers, even the script would demand their deaths.
In other words, they couldn't afford even a trace of carelessness.
Gareth wasn't worried about the talented members who actually had the qualifications to take on Spirit Elite Soldiers. He was more concerned about the four who tended to lose their heads—Bete, Ais, Tiona, and Tione.
They had only just entered Level 6. What they needed most right now was growth.
But precisely because they needed growth, they were the ones who tried to solve every problem with brute force instead of thought.