"From here on, tighten formation and stay alert at all times."
Jeanne's calm, steady voice echoed through the dim, quiet cave.
"Got it."
Lucas responded without hesitation, instinctively moving closer to her.
In his future vision of the Familia, Jeanne would serve as the commander of the Lucas Familia, just like Finn for Loki Familia, Hedin for Freya Familia, Shakti for Ganesha Familia, and Lyra for Astraea Familia. She was destined to carry that same weight of leadership.
And Lucas was well aware of his own shortcomings.
Coordinating battles, rallying morale, strategic planning—none of those were his strengths.
He firmly believed in letting professionals handle what they were best at.
And Jeanne, in every sense, was the perfect fit for the role of commander. Even though she herself was somewhat familiar with combat, that modesty didn't fool him.
--
They kept their breathing low as they moved cautiously through the deep, narrow passageway.
Suddenly, their vision opened up.
"That ceiling's high as hell!"
Lucas muttered in awe under his breath, eyes darting across the mist-shrouded expanse ahead. The thick fog obscured their sight, but the sheer vastness of the space pressed on him all the same.
"This fog's annoying, but it can't hide how open this place is."
Ahead stretched a wide cavern veiled in pale mist, seemingly endless. Even with their sharp eyes, they could only make out the faint outline of the central chamber.
Unlike the bare, featureless tunnels of the upper floors, the landscape here had changed.
On the uneven ground ahead stood clusters of withered, leafless trees—tall and lifeless.
The sudden shift in environment made them exchange a glance, silently confirming what the handbook had described.
"So this is what they call the Mist Labyrinth, huh?"
Jeanne's tone carried certainty beneath the question.
They moved closer to inspect. The bark of the withered trees was unnaturally hard, their trunks thick at the base and thinning upward—completely unnatural in shape.
No matter how much you studied from books, nothing compared to seeing it in person.
"It matches the notes exactly. Mist Labyrinth, no doubt."
Lucas frowned, voice low and serious.
"They not only provide weapons for monsters but also turn the terrain into trip hazards. If you fall mid-fight, you're done for."
"Should we clear them out, then?" Jeanne asked, brows furrowed tight.
Lucas stared at the eerie shapes in the mist, hesitating.
That wasn't something they could finish quickly. And even if they did clear them, who could say the Dungeon wouldn't just regenerate them? No one could claim to understand this living maze's will.
"Forget it. Let's avoid the walls and move deeper into the hall first."
He made the call.
Before he could even finish the sentence, Jeanne's grip tightened on her spear. Her eyes snapped toward a single direction, voice dropping low.
"There's a chance we're not going anywhere."
Lucas's instincts screamed. His body tensed instantly. In one smooth motion, he reached for the side of his pack, drawing his staff in a single breath.
The mist sealed off their sight, but the oppressive tension in the air was enough to make every nerve flare.
"They're here!"
Jeanne's low warning came just as the ground began to shake.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
From deep within the fog, massive silhouettes began to stir, each heavy step radiating raw pressure.
The echoing impact rolled through the earth and up their legs, rattling their bones.
Lucas swallowed hard. "Damn… I'm nervous, but kinda pumped too. My first large-category monster fight."
He licked his lips, taking half a step back to cover Jeanne's flank.
A guttural growl rumbled from the fog, deep and feral.
And then—something tore through the mist.
"That's an… orc?" Lucas muttered, eyes wide. "What the hell, that pressure's insane."
A hulking mass of muscle covered in brown hide, topped with a grotesque boar's head. It wore scraps of tattered fur around its waist like a crude skirt. The thing stood nearly three and a half meters tall—twice Lucas's height—and moved like a living boulder.
A large-class monster.
The orc had arrived.
"Jeanne, against something that size… you sure about this?"
Lucas couldn't hide the tension in his voice. Judging by its build alone, the orc was the embodiment of raw stats—a powerhouse of brute strength and endurance. The worst possible match-up for an adventurer without high-damage burst spells.
"Confidence?" Jeanne's expression was focused, her grip tightening on her spear. "I'll manage."
"Alright! Then it's all yours!" Lucas replied at once, full of faith.
Jeanne inhaled, lowering her stance, spear angled forward in a flawless fighting posture.
A low snarl erupted from the orc, swelling into a roar that hit like a physical wave, followed by a stench so foul it made Lucas gag through his mask.
"Ugh—damn it!"
He cursed softly, thanking every god for the face covering. He couldn't imagine what Jeanne was enduring up close.
Her brows knit tight, and with her usual poise, she turned aside and covered her mouth and nose with one hand. Her voice, though calm, carried sharp irritation.
"Even on the battlefield, to assault a lady with such a foul odor is simply disgraceful."
But the orc, with its dim mind and blood-red eyes, didn't know the difference between man or woman. To it, both were prey—fresh, breathing meat.
It lunged forward with earth-shaking steps, thick legs pounding the ground. Reaching the cluster of dead trees, it swung out one massive arm and wrenched a trunk from the earth as if it were grass.
The Dungeon itself had armed its children.
The so-called natural defenses of the Labyrinth.
That was one of the Dungeon's most troublesome features—its ability to supply monsters with an endless stream of weapons.
This unique terrain effect appeared starting from the tenth floor—a hidden mechanism designed to amplify monster combat ability.
An adventurer might easily crush an unarmed foe. But once armed by the Dungeon's blessing, that same monster could turn into a completely different kind of threat, forcing a full-power response.
After all, whether it's man or monster, being armed makes all the difference.
"So this is the tenth floor, huh…" Lucas muttered, frowning. "This feature alone ramps up the danger by several levels."
Jeanne's eyes followed the orc's movements intently, her tone grave. "Monsters are already dangerous with their innate traits and abilities. If they start using tools on top of that…"
"It's terrifying to think about."
Lucas exhaled deeply, steadying his grip on the staff.
"It's our first time here. Not being fully prepared was expected. Next time, we'll know—destroy the Armory structures first to weaken them."
According to the manual, the Labyrinth's Armory could be destroyed, though it would regenerate slowly over time. Worse, the regeneration also covered areas where monsters had already torn out weapons.
In other words, the empty ground where that tree had stood would soon spawn another.
In normal expeditions, adventurers would destroy the withered trunks beforehand if they had time. But this time, Lucas and Jeanne were already too late.
The orc, gripping its new makeshift club, stared them down with murderous intensity. Its yellowed eyes glowed as its chest heaved, muscles swelling like coiled ropes. The tension was suffocating.
Lucas could feel his heartbeat racing. The thrill of facing his first large-category monster mixed with raw fear, leaving his palms slick with sweat.
"Deep breath, Lucas. Relax."
Jeanne's cool voice cut through the tension, strangely comforting.
"Yeah… I know."
He took a long breath, easing his shoulders just slightly—
And in that instant of release, the orc moved.
Its predatory instinct caught the opening perfectly.
The roar that followed shook the cavern.
"ROOOAAAAAAARRRRR!!!"
The battle began.
Almost simultaneously, Jeanne launched forward. Her boots struck the ground hard, propelling her silver-clad figure like a fired arrow straight toward the closest orc.
A predator charging the hunter?
The orc bared its tusks in a hideous grin, mocking her audacity. Its arm—thicker than Lucas's waist—lifted high, clutching its brutal, spiked weapon. The crimson in its eyes flared.
"Scorch!"
"BOOM!"
Magic flared to life before the orc could swing. Flames erupted around it, wrapping its brown flesh in roaring fire.
The creature howled in agony, thrashing violently.
But Lucas didn't celebrate. His face twisted. Cold sweat ran down his back.
"Damn it… flashy effects, zero damage? Are you kidding me?!"
His frustration barely left his lips when—
CLANG!
A thunderous crash rang out as metal met flesh.
Through the flames, the scorched orc, skin blistered and raw, ignored its pain and glared through bloodshot eyes.
It was locked in a brutal power struggle with Jeanne.
The sight of the slender, 160-centimeter-tall Holy Maiden standing against a 3.5-meter monster head-on was surreal—
And utterly breathtaking.