Fron's body went slightly numb from the immense force transferred through his right arm, and he frowned in shock.
"This—is this really just Lv.2-level potential? Impossible! With my magic activated, my stats are a whole tier higher."
He suddenly looked up, locking eyes with the enemy's red gaze—and then—he was horrified to discover a faint glimmer of something called intelligence in them.
A bolt of lightning tore through his consciousness.
"Enhanced Species!"
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"Enhanced Species," a specific term for an "abnormal situation."
In the dungeon, monsters that are different from the rest are occasionally born. They not only hunt adventurers but also mercilessly hunt their own kind.
All because of the characteristics of the "Enhanced Species"—they can endlessly strengthen themselves by devouring magic stones.
Targeting fellow monsters and adventurers is for the same reason.
Killing adventurers is not the goal, but the means.
Because they carry items called magic stones.
Why could Fron see a flicker of intelligence in the enemy's eyes? It was because he realized—the enemy had cleverly judged that attacking adventurers was far more efficient than attacking its own kind when collecting magic stones.
This also indirectly proved why it abandoned those few stragglers and turned its attention to him.
All because there were magic stones in his backpack.
"Shit—"
Understanding the cause and effect, Fron cursed, then gave a low shout, using all his strength to deflect the fangs with his right arm, and using the huge recoil, he pushed off with his toes and quickly widened the distance between them.
The first round of exchange ended in a draw.
He held his short sword horizontally in front of him, knees bent and body tense, eyes locked on the enemy, and his mind raced.
"The enemy is a mid-sized species, with greater strength and defense than the small species. Its a cat type so it must also be highly agile and nimble."
"With natural weapons like fangs and claws, combined with its size, its attack range is also broader."
"However—"
"A body over three meters tall definitely can't unleash its full power in the narrow corridors of the fifth floor. While its potential is slightly higher than mine even with my magic activated, the difference isn't great."
Fron, with all attributes at D rank, could reach lower-tier Level 2 combat power after activating his magic.
From the earlier clash, he could sense that the enemy was stronger, but only slightly—close to mid-tier Level 2—so it wasn't overwhelming.
With this thought, his golden eyes narrowed slightly, the glowing blue rings swirling in them, and Fron made a decision.
"There's a chance to win."
Quickly forming a plan, he prepared to attack.
"Whoo—"
With a swoosh, black-red flame and lightning burst forth again, and his entire body shot forward like a black flash.
"Roar roar roar roar roar—!"
The enemy roared, not attacking with its fangs, but raising its right front paw to slash down, the terrifying force even blowing a gust of wind.
"One of the adventurer's rules: never take an avoidable hit head-on!"
With powerful dynamic vision, he barely caught the enemy's counterattack. In the nick of time, he sidestepped with his right foot, slipping past the deadly strike and closing in beneath the enemy's head, thrusting his short sword upward at its jaw in a reverse grip!
"Clang—"
Its gleaming fangs blocked the surprise attack, but the result was actually the opposite.
Because it was a full-powered, premeditated strike, while the enemy had only blocked passively!
"Haah—!"
With a fierce shout, black flames and lightning surged explosively from his body, sending a powerful shockwave upward that lifted the huge enemy clean off the ground!
He launched it into the air!
"Raaagh—!"
Anger devoured the last remnants of the enemy's reason, and its monstrous instincts took over again.
This human must die!
Thinking this, it acted.
Even in mid-air, its immense potential allowed it to swing deadly claws.
"Slash—"
"Clang clang clang—!"
The short sword, covered in black flames and red lightning, flashed with black and white light. Fron once again deflected the enemy's counterattack, veins bulging on his forehead as he jumped with all his might toward the monster.
"Clang—clang—clang!"
Man and beast clashed wildly, fangs and short sword clashing with sharp metallic screeches, claws ripping through the air and shaking the ground.
The berserk black flames and dark red lightning twisted the air, scorching nearby rocks red and melting them into molten liquid.
The frenzied clash grew faster and faster, the pressure gradually tilting onto Fron.
Even though he didn't have the upper hand in attributes, the intelligent young man used his modest knowledge of physics to constantly deflect the powerful impacts sideways.
Each time, he redirected the force to his flanks.
He was like a small boat tossed by violent waves, swaying but never breaking.
Guidance—this was also a form of combat experience, guiding the fight in a direction favorable to himself.
If attributes were inferior, then crush the enemy with reason.
Even his rough technique could execute such a tactic.
Black flames and lightning danced on his body, his black cloak now torn, inner clothes also ripped, his body accumulating claw wounds.
But it stopped there—none of the attacks were fatal, thanks to human instinct.
And the enemy, its pitch-black fur now marred with blood, bore a deep gash that nearly severed one of its legs.
The searing pain and deep wounds enraged the monster, making its attacks increasingly erratic and frenzied.
Seeing this, Fron, breathing heavily and nearly out of stamina, caught a glint of hope in his eyes.
The opportunity he had long waited for had come.
When the dominant side fails to finish the fight quickly, the mounting pressure can easily collapse their mentality—especially for a monster.
The saber-toothed beast, constantly pulled along in this psychological game, had already lost that battle.
Its violent power surged into its claws, as if venting its anxiety and fury, and it struck with everything it had.
But—
Having sensed the shift in its mindset, Fron had long prepared.
Black fire and lightning cloaked his whole body as he bent his knees and leapt, flipping to evade the deadly blow. At the same time, he gripped the [Wild Forest Short Sword] in reverse and drove it deep into the enemy's claw!
"ROAAAAAAAAAAR—!!"
The roar, filled with anger, pain, and malice, flooded into Fron's mind, freezing his body for a moment in shock.
"Crack—"
What should have been the finishing blow turned into a reversal.
The enemy had evolved—gaining an ability similar to magic.
That wasn't even the worst part. Fron's only weapon, the [Wild Forest Short Sword], shattered—worn down by intense battle and destructive magic.
Trading one limb of the enemy for a broken weapon and crippling its mobility—by all accounts, this should be a decisive victory.
—Right?
"Shit!"
Fron, dumbfounded, punched the tiger in the face and quickly backed away.
"No weapon—!"
An awkward moment.
Fighting a monster barehanded was wishful thinking.
The monster's physical advantage was overwhelming. Even with weapons, adventurers only had a 60–40 chance. Without a weapon, how could he keep fighting?
"Heh heh, heh heh heh—"
The heavily wounded monster let out a terrifying growl from its throat, its savagery reverting to primal instincts.
Unarmed, Fron was once again at death's door. Escaping was impossible; though he'd crippled the enemy, its size blocked the way. If he turned his back, death would be instant.
A narrow passage with only one way through—"Victory goes to the brave" was meant for situations like this.
"Whew—I still have magic."
"And—"
Feeling his rapidly surging mental energy, Fron smiled,
"Now, I'm stronger!"