――56,000 years after the start of the game.
An eternity of time had truly passed.
Starting all the way back from the first floor of the dungeon, I relentlessly hunted monsters to fill out the compendium while pushing my conquest forward.
Since the monsters had become laughably weak partway through, I took to restricting my own abilities with the God-Sealing Gloves I had obtained, nerfing myself before heading into battle.
The reason I bothered wearing such cumbersome gloves was simple: the enemies were so weak that fighting them no longer served as training. Specifically, once my status parameters surpassed ten thousand, they ground to a virtual halt.
Was this my ceiling? Absolutely not. I knew I could still grow stronger. After all, having no limits was practically the sole saving grace of my Gift, [World's Most Incompetent]. If that was true, it simply meant my method of training was flawed.
While I was agonizing over this dilemma, I acquired these God-Sealing Gloves at the most opportune moment.
The God-Sealing Gloves could freely suppress the magic power and physical capabilities of whoever wore them. Thanks to them, I could intentionally throttle my own strength.
In that regard, I had realized long ago that cutting down an opponent in a life-or-death struggle—a real tightrope walk—yielded a far higher rate of stat growth.
After much trial and error, I discovered that if I restricted my abilities with the God-Sealing Gloves, challenged powerful foes, and scraped by with a battered, bloody victory, my stats would skyrocket.
Even now, after untold millennia, I vividly remember the sheer ecstasy of discovering that rule. And why wouldn't I? It proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that I could still become far, far stronger.
From that day on, I restricted my abilities to the absolute limit using the God-Sealing Gloves as I cleared the dungeon.
At present, Faf and I had crossed the plains zone and arrived on the 600th floor.
The 600th floor was a semicircular meadow surrounded by cascading waterfalls. At its center stood a bare-handed monster resembling a lion-headed beastman clad in radiant golden armor.
"Newbie warriors, are ye?! Fuhaha! To think a mere pair of deities reached this 600th floor! Fascinating! Ye are truly fascinating, you bastards!"
His leonine visage warped with savage glee, he roared at the sky, leaning back slightly. Then, drawing his right elbow back, he dropped his center of gravity.
A flawless stance without a hair's breadth of an opening—there was no mistaking it. It belonged to a martial artist. And an absolute master at that.
Good. This is wonderful! This was the first time I had encountered a monster versed in martial arts. The beasts I had faced until now possessed troublesome abilities, but they merely relied on brute force and their powers, offering no real satisfaction. Fighting a true martial artist like him stirred something deep within my soul.
Now that my physical abilities were drastically suppressed by the God-Sealing Gloves, we could have a battle that would make our very spirits tremble.
As Faf let out a low growl and squared off against the lion beastman, I spoke gently.
"Faf, apologies, but leave this one to me. He promises to be quite entertaining."
With that gentle caution, I retrieved the Indestructible Rod from my item box and leveled it at him.
"Understood, Master!"
Faf looked up at me, then promptly pumped its right fist with spirited vigor before stepping back to give us room.
"A duel, is it? Not out of arrogance... no. Ye are just like me—a warrior through and through! Very well! I am the Divine Beast King Nemea! Let us have a fair and honorable bout!!"
As he exhaled a deep breath, his flesh flushed a reddish-brown, and a thick, crimson aura of magic power began billowing from his body.
"I am Kai Heinemann. A swordsman."
The next instant, we collided.
Staff and fist clashed, the sheer shockwave blasting outward in violent, concentric gales.
We traded blow after blow countless times, both of us sustaining wounds that could not be ignored. Nemea was battered and bathed in blood, covered head to toe in deep bruises. I was in hardly any better shape.
Putting my life on the line against a truly formidable opponent made my heart dance for the first time in ages. Even so, all festivities must come to an end.
His right fist surged toward me, wrapped in a localized tempest. I tried to slip past it by a hair's breadth, but the strike unnaturally veered mid-flight, aiming straight for my temple. Wrapping my broken left arm around his limb and twisting my body, I forcefully deflected the blow.
"Nu?!"
With his balance momentarily broken, I whipped the Indestructible Rod across in a vicious horizontal slash aimed at his abdomen.
Nemea blocked it with his log-like right forearm, but the force sent him rolling across the dirt. He pushed himself up, his shoulders heaving with ragged breaths.
"Strong... Far too strong! My physical prowess should vastly outstrip yours. Yet my martial arts, the very core of my being, are entirely useless! No, that's not it either. Ye aren't taking this seriously, are ye?"
"No, I was being serious."
Nemea's martial discipline was the real deal. It was certainly nothing I could overcome while playing around. After all, taking a direct hit from his kick had shattered my left arm.
"In martial arts, only truth remains! No need for false modesty! I am a God of War. The one thing I cannot stomach is being defeated by someone pulling their punches. I know I may not be worthy of your full might. But please... grant me the honor of seeing your true power."
Straightening his posture, he bowed his head deeply. Under normal circumstances, he didn't seem the type to ever lower himself like this.
"It wasn't that I was looking down on you. But you're right. I suppose I was somewhat discourteous toward a fellow martial artist. My apologies."
For the first time in tens of thousands of years, I completely deactivated the power of the God-Sealing Gloves.
"Wh-What in the world is this...?! Guhahahahahaha! This isn't a matter of winning or losing! We aren't even on the same dimension to begin with!"
Spreading his arms wide, Nemea threw his head back and laughed. His face was painted in pure, wild euphoria.
I drew the blade of Raikiri from the scabbard at my waist and raised it into a high stance.
"Consider this the bare minimum of an apology for staining your pride. I shall cut you down with the finest strike I can muster."
I exhaled slowly, honing my spirit to a razor edge. And then――
"True Kai-Style Swordsmanship: One-Sword Style, Seventh Form — World Destruction."
I brought Raikiri down toward him, the blade wreathed in a pitch-black aura.
Nemea's torso was cleanly severed in a diagonal slash from shoulder to hip. Darkness seeped into the wound, and as though being consumed from the inside out, his body dissolved into dust amidst his ecstatic laughter.
True Kai-Style Swordsmanship: One-Sword Style, Seventh Form — World Destruction. If the target suffered even the slightest nick, it was over; decay would take root from that singular point, instantly propagating and expanding across their entire being. A thoroughly insidious technique.
I had finalized this art the moment Girimehkala's re-education concluded and I generated a personal territory for him inside the compendium. Given the timing, that book was undoubtedly the catalyst.
I had already verified that World Destruction left the soul completely untouched. All that remained was to put the tome to use.
Sure enough, a translucent prompt materialized before me: [Nemea's soul detected. Capture into the compendium?]
Just as planned, I claimed his soul. I didn't mind earnest, straightforward fellows like him. In fact, I would gladly welcome him into my ranks.
Sealing Nemea's soul within the pages, I channeled my magic power into the compendium to reconstruct his physical form.
After returning to the surface, I opened the book and invoked [Release].
The golden-armored, lion-faced beastman materialized before my eyes. Everything up to this point had gone according to calculation. The only question left was whether he would willingly accept becoming my subordinate. Well, I would manage somehow.
"As of today, you serve me. I will brook no objections. Obey."
Confronted with my uncompromising decree, Nemea stared at me blankly for a beat, but then...
"Buhahaha! Guhihaha!!"
His features scrunched up as he burst into uproarious laughter.
What was that about? Was there anything remotely amusing about what I just said? I really couldn't fathom this guy's sense of humor.
After clutching his stomach and laughing his fill, Nemea's expression suddenly turned grave. He dropped to one knee, tucked his left arm behind his back, brought his right fist forward, and bowed his head low.
"I hereby pledge my eternal loyalty to you!"
He spoke the very words I had been waiting to hear.