Chapter 14 – Leaving the Dungeon
Facing the kobolds that came charging at him again, Akira merely let out a small smile.
With a smooth motion, he lifted his spear and dashed forward, meeting them head-on.
His shadowkhan soldiers followed from behind, working in unison to intercept some of the monsters before they reached him. But because of their limited durability, many of the shadow warriors crumbled the moment they were struck.
Even so, Akira remained unfazed.
Every time one of his shadowkhan fell, another immediately emerged from the darkness to take its place.
Summon. Replace. Repeat.
The battle pressed on relentlessly.
One after another, the kobolds were cut down—sliced, pierced, or crushed under the combined assault of Akira and his ever-replenishing shadow army.
Magic Stones scattered all over the ground like shards of light.
With a clean, piercing thrust, the tip of Akira's spear drove straight through the skull of the last kobold.
The monster let out a strangled cry before its body evaporated into black mist, leaving behind a single glowing Magic Stone that clinked softly as it hit the floor.
"…Phew. That's the last of them."
Akira exhaled long and deep, sweat dotting his forehead as fatigue settled into his bones. His muscles ached from the effort, but a quiet satisfaction lingered in his chest.
He'd come a long way.
From the moment he crossed into this world, everything had changed.
Even though he had inherited 10% of the power from Tarakudo—the King of all Shadowkhan—it didn't make him invincible. And the Falna he received from his Goddess was still in its infancy.
His growth had been rapid, no doubt, but in the eyes of the Guild, Akira was still very much a rookie.
And today's battle—especially against the kobolds on the ninth floor—was no small feat. He had pushed his stamina to its limits, and his mana reserves were nearly depleted from all the summoning.
He found a large rock nearby and slumped onto it, letting his body relax as he focused on restoring his strength and magic.
Around him, the shadowkhan continued to work like a well-oiled machine—picking up every last Magic Stone on the battlefield.
That was one of the greatest advantages of the Shadow Army.
They never got tired.
They didn't complain, didn't question orders, and didn't need rest. The perfect workers.
Inside the Dungeon, monsters didn't spawn endlessly. After a wave was defeated, it would take time for the Dungeon to regenerate and produce the next horde.
Moreover, if the Dungeon's structure—its floors or walls—was damaged during battle, its priority would shift to repairs before it resumed spawning monsters.
Many seasoned adventurers used this to their advantage.
When resting, they'd deliberately damage nearby walls to buy themselves more time before the next wave.
This tactic became essential in the deeper floors, where monsters were stronger, more numerous, and respawned faster.
Sometimes, parties even designated a few members solely to smashing walls while others caught their breath.
Akira glanced toward the staircase leading down to the tenth floor. His eyes narrowed.
…Not today.
He had cleared floors one through nine in a single push. Both his stamina and mana were nearly dry.
This wasn't a game.
There was no save point waiting after a boss fight, no pause button to escape danger. If he collapsed, he'd die. Simple as that.
He needed enough strength to climb back to the surface—and survive the inevitable respawns along the way.
Crack—
Suddenly, the ground beside him split open.
A kobold clawed its way out of the fractured stone.
Akira didn't flinch.
The Dungeon was regenerating. The next wave had begun.
With a flick of his wrist, his spear flew through the air like lightning—impaling the creature straight through the head.
It didn't even get the chance to growl.
Akira hopped down from his seat and turned away, stepping toward the eighth floor entrance.
This exploration… was over.
Just as he left, one of his shadowkhan emerged from the surrounding darkness, picked up the thrown spear and the fresh Magic Stone, and stored both inside the Shadow Kingdom—the infinite shadow realm that served as Akira's personal vault.
Minutes later, fresh kobolds began to surface again on the ninth floor.
But without a target to pursue, they merely roamed the area—waiting for the next adventurer unlucky enough to cross their path.
— — —
The return trip was much faster than the descent.
Since he no longer had to clear each floor, Akira slipped past most of the monsters and climbed directly toward the surface.
While it had taken hours to get down, the way back only took around thirty minutes.
Eventually, the glowing stone walls faded away, and the daylight of Orario came back into view.
He stepped out through the Babel Tower's massive gate, blinking as the bright sun hit his face.
Looking up, he checked the massive Magic Stone Clock embedded above the Dungeon entrance.
One Bell.
Just past midday.
Grrrrrr—
His stomach made an angry growl.
Not surprising. He hadn't eaten much that morning, and the past half-day had been spent running, fighting, and summoning nonstop.
Of course he was starving.
"All right—first stop, the Guild. Then… lunch. A big one."
Shouldering his bag, Akira made his way toward the Guild headquarters.
He had prepared his backpack in advance. Before leaving the Dungeon, he retrieved every Magic Stone from the Shadow Kingdom and packed them manually.
Sure, he could have stored them magically—but he didn't want to draw attention.
There were all kinds of people in Orario. If someone with bad intentions took notice of his abilities, it would be more trouble than it was worth.
He wasn't scared.
Just cautious.
"Yo! Good afternoon, Miss Eina!"
"Huh? Shin… Akira-san?"
"The one and only. I'm flattered you remembered me."
"Your name's kind of hard to forget," Eina replied with a wry smile. "It stands out, you know?"
Akira gave a helpless shrug.
Being from East Asia, his name did feel pretty different compared to the western-style names common in Orario.
His full name, "Shin Akira," always seemed to linger in people's memories.
"Back from the Dungeon, Akira-san?"
"Yeah. I skipped lunch, so I figured I should head back early."
"You look like you've had quite the workout."
It wasn't just small talk. Eina could tell from his appearance.
His clothes were dusty, hair a bit messy, and his entire posture screamed fatigue. Yet, despite all that, not a single scratch could be seen on his body.
That impressed her.
Most rookie adventurers—especially after getting their Falna—ran into the Dungeon headfirst, drunk on power and dreams of glory. Many of them came back bruised and bloodied.
Some… didn't come back at all.
Akira lowered his backpack onto the table with a solid thud.
The weight was unmistakable.
Eina blinked in surprise. She carefully unzipped the top—and her eyes widened.
Magic Stones.
Dozens of them.
Half the bag was filled with tiny shards and low-grade stones, but even so, the quantity alone was staggering.
"Akira-san… how far down did you go?"
"Ninth floor. But my stamina and mind were almost spent, so I turned back."
"N-ninth?!"
Eina almost shouted.
Luckily, the Guild was mostly empty at this hour, and her voice didn't attract much attention.
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