Episode 120: S-Rank Dungeon—Tenka

"—Tch. There are way too many of them, even for this place!"

I growled as I rode atop Luna alongside Balor, racing through the cavernous labyrinth.

Vines and roots lashed out from every direction, moving with a predatory intelligence. Toxic gases hissed from vents in the walls, and monsters resembling oversized insectivorous plants snapped at us from all sides.

Luna’s aura of absolute cold was the only thing keeping them at bay; the freezing air slowed their movements just enough for her speed to carry us past their reach. Still, I couldn't deny it—this place definitely earned its S-Rank designation.

"Ouma, trap! Right there!" I shouted.

"Roger—man, you're seriously incredible, Reima!"

Stretched across our path were invisible threads of concentrated mana. I had no idea what would have happened if we’d tripped them, but the danger was palpable. Upon my warning, Ouma kicked off the air, floating effortlessly over the hazard.

"The monsters in this zone are mostly plant-types, right?" I asked, keeping pace behind him.

He was far more familiar with this dungeon than I was. I’d heard the general briefing, but I hadn't been filled in on the specific distribution of threats.

"Mostly Mandragoras and Dryads," Ouma yelled back over the rushing wind. "Plus a lot of fungi-based things."

"So the flora wants us dead, and the dungeon itself is trying to automate our execution... Nasty."

"And we can't even use fire," Ouma added. "Most of them have a natural resistance that triggers a counter-effect. Besides, if you let a fire spell get out of hand in here, it'll burn through the oxygen supply before the monsters even touch us."

What a total shit-show.

This was the third S-Rank dungeon I had challenged, but they were all uniquely sadistic in their own ways. Every inch of the cave was covered in vegetation, and every leaf was a potential enemy. Even the ground we ran on wasn't safe; giant Venus flytraps periodically burst from the soil, trying to swallow us whole. There wasn't a single moment to catch our breath.

Instinctively, I’d chosen not to rely on Sol yet. Looking at this environment, that had been the right call. Given her sheer destructive output and those flames of hers, we probably would have ended up killing ourselves.

"—Luna, I'm going to grant Ouma resistance, so ramp up the cold. We’re breaking through the rest of this in one go."

It was a standard feature of B-rank or higher cave dungeons: bosses guarded the midway point and the deepest depths. Since our mission involved investigating the End Reaper in addition to clearing the dungeon, speed was our priority.

I didn't know the specific traits of the End Reaper yet, but if it was the kind of disaster that slaughtered everything in its path, we couldn't afford to dawdle.

"Tch—Dryad incoming! Don't breathe!" Ouma barked.

"I’ve got it," I said, mentaly triggering a skill. [Sleep Resistance Granting].

The Dryad—the tree spirits known as Dryas in Greek Mythology. They were a race that lured in those they took a liking to, trapping them in dreams and turning their bodies into fertilizer. The Dryads in this world apparently used a special scent called Sleeping Fragrance to neutralize their prey before draining their life force. As long as I granted us resistance, however, they weren't much of a threat.

Compared to the 'her' currently residing inside me, these things are practically gentle, I thought. Though, in any other context, a monster that kills you the moment you take a breath is terrifyingly powerful.

"Sorry, but we're in a hurry. [Spell Summon]—[Radieren Sol]!"

I showed them the only respect I could—hitting them with a compressed version of Sol’s technique, modified with a strict time limit. A miniature sun flickered into existence and surged forward, incinerating everything in a straight line before it could vanish. This was the Vanishing Solflare, a technique far too dangerous to ever point at a human being. Perhaps because of its wooden body, the Dryad didn't even have time to scream before it was erased from existence.

"If we have to do that repeatedly, it's going to get exhausting. What do you think, Ouma?"

"That was technically the boss of the Middle Layer. It’s only going to get harder from here—but at the rate you’re going, it shouldn't be a problem."

"Good. I'm going to buff Luna again, so I'll re-apply the cold resistance to you as well."

"Appreciate it. I almost forgot you were technically a support class," Ouma joked.

"...Yeah, something like that."

We pushed deeper, and the dungeon lived up to its reputation. We started encountering things that could actually survive a suppressed [Broken Eye] from Balor. Things were getting genuinely difficult.

I need to stop worrying about resource management, I decided. If I keep trying to conserve mana, we're never going to get through this.

Eventually, the path opened up into a massive drop-off. We stood at the edge of a cliff, looking down into a sight that defied the logic of a cavern.

It was a subterranean jungle. Within my line of sight, I could see massive blooms resembling Rafflesia—the world's foulest-smelling plant—though I was certain these were far more lethal. Worse were the corpses. Dozens of them, all parasitized by vines and fungal growths.

"...This is grim."

"Adventurers from back before the association maintained this place," Ouma said, his voice low. "It looks like the dungeon is planning to add us to the collection."

"Let's set them free."

"...Yeah. Let's."

This was a dungeon—a place that was less a cave and more a pocket of another world. If the entire floor was composed of demonic plants, then I didn't need to hold back anymore.

I'm borrowing your power again, Sol.

Go for it, a voice echoed back from the Soul World.

I began to gather my mana, weaving the incantation for the highest-tier technique I could pull from Sol’s repertoire.

"The God-Slaying Solflare arrives with the horn of the end. That divine majesty that sings of destruction, the brilliance of the demon wolf, cast down for the sake of purification—[Spell Summon]: [Ragnarok Lost Sol]!"

The scale and output were barely fifty percent of what the original goddess was capable of, but it was more than enough. It was a simple, brutal display of power—I dropped a sun on the lower floor. The white-hot sphere descended from our perch, completely scouring the vegetation from the earth.

"Tch—gh. Still a hell of a strain..." I muttered, steadying myself.

"Hey, you okay, Reima?"

"I'm fine. This should give us a clear shot to the bottom, right?"

As I spoke, I offered a silent salute in my heart. I hope those who fell here can finally sleep in peace.

With that prayer, Ouma, Luna, and I descended into the scorched, empty wasteland of the lower layer.