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!"
------------------------------
Labyrinth City Orario — the massive western wall was dyed the color of dusk by the crimson glow of the horizon.
As time flowed, the moon radiating a soft, elegant glow was veiled by a thin layer of clouds, quietly taking center stage in the dark curtain of the sky.
Scattered clouds concealed a few stars.
Magic stone lamps on both sides of the street were lit, and the taverns, inns, and other entertainment venues erupted in noise.
The City That Never Sleeps revealed a glimpse of its true face.
North District, "Twilight Manor."
Loki sat in a large council room at the top of the tower.
Normally, the upper echelon of the Familia would gather here to chat or hold meetings.
But since they were on an "expedition," Loki was the only one present.
She narrowed her divine eyes and gazed in the direction of Babel Tower.
"That kid still isn't back by now. Did something happen?"
As for the idea of them losing their life there, that thought never crossed Loki's mind.
That was trust and confidence in her own child.
"Don't tell me they encountered some 'abnormal situation' on the first day? That'd be way too unlucky."
"Going by the schedule, the expedition kids should be back by now, right?"
Even a god cannot see into the unknown.
But this time, Loki's guess was correct. The unlucky Fron hit the jackpot — the deadly kind — on his very first dungeon exploration.
In the passage from the fifth to the sixth floor of the "Dungeon."
Illuminated by faint phosphorescence from the walls, an adventurer and a monster were locked in a bloody battle.
This clash resembled not a typical adventurer-versus-monster fight, but rather a duel between gladiators in an ancient coliseum.
The collision of blood and blood, fists and claws, muscle and muscle — so primal and savage — yet it stirred the deepest yearning within the heart.
Even Fron, who was terrified of death, never imagined he would one day display such wild instincts.
"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH——"
"Bam, bam, bam——"
One punch. Another. Yet another!
His fist, exposing white bone, struck the monster's head with brutal force, leaving it dazed and immobilized.
Seizing the opportunity, even amid a hysterical deathmatch, he clung to the last sliver of rationality.
Once again cloaked in flaming lightning, he grabbed the enemy's fangs and, with an almost inhuman roar, snapped its weapon with a crunch.
"RAAAAAHHHHHHH——"
The pain of broken fangs was like having fingers torn off — the raging saber-toothed tiger hurled the small human away with full force.
Whoosh—
With a heavy thud, Fron slammed into the wall. The brutal impact left him dizzy and vomiting blood.
He slid slowly to the ground.
"Hiss—my ribs… cough cough cough…"
"Who knows how many ribs I just broke… hiss hiss hiss—"
Even as he spoke, blood gushed from his mouth — yet when he saw the enemy's broken fangs, he grinned.
"Now what are you gonna kill me with?"
Facing the blood-covered enemy, the saber-toothed tiger felt an unfamiliar emotion brewing in its heart —
Fear.
This human was different from the others it had smashed—
He must, absolutely must be killed—
That belief alone was unwavering!
And then it bared its fangs again!
"Ptooey—"
Spitting out blood, Fron wiped the blood obstructing his vision with his sleeve, and stared at the equally wounded, blood-drenched enemy.
With his weapon shattered, the balance of power tipped — no, tilted entirely — in the monster's favor.
If not for the onset of night, which triggered his skill to double his mental power and vastly increased his magic's endurance and potency, he'd have been a corpse by now.
His gear was in tatters. His shirt was reduced to shreds barely hanging on. Most of his body was covered in deep, bone-revealing wounds. His fists dripped blood from exposed bone.
Only his left arm remained intact.
His golden hair was no longer radiant, caked in blood — both his and the enemy's.
Even his handsome, chiseled face was sliced with cuts, bruises and swelling — one eye swollen shut.
Despite these grievous injuries, though weakened to the extreme, his lone open golden eye shone brightly, a glowing blue ring within marking his overflowing spirit.
As for his opponent, the Level 2-enhanced saber-toothed tiger had also been dyed in blood.
Its matted fur was torn, bones pierced through muscle — pounded into that state by sheer brute force.
Its two fangs had been snapped off, and it was missing a limb — that's how it ended up grievously wounded by a human using hit-and-run tactics.
The true cause of everything was the terrifying magic that played a decisive role.
The monster's fangs, claws, even its tendons and bones, were shattered by a special destructive attribute during impact — a horrifying thought.
The sheer destructive power could be unleashed with bare fists, even without a weapon.
Over an hour had passed.
After such intense fighting, it was a miracle Fron could still stand.
The monster's last counterattack had severely wounded him — both arms limp, legs trembling — let alone fight.
The enemy, though on the brink of death, still had fight left — such was the terror of monsters.
Blood gushed endlessly from his wounds. Fron, losing too much blood, could barely see, his vision doubled.
Trembling lips whispered bitterly:
"So this… is the end…?"
"—No, I still want to pursue magic—"
"I still want to taste delicious food—"
"I've never even had a girlfriend—"
"I—I'm so afraid of dying, I don't want to die aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh——"
In the face of despair, Fron cried out his will to live.
Szzzt—
Black flames flickered, slowly shrinking, gathering bit by bit along his left arm into his left hand.
It was the advanced technique known as attached magic.
In that moment of desperation, driven by his desire to live, Fron grasped its true essence.
"ROOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRR——"
Giving him no time, the enemy — having driven its prey to the brink — delivered a blow named death!
A rapid leap added sudden force to the charge, hurtling toward the tottering figure.
It had no claws, no fangs — but it still had a massive body—
"Heh—"
"Screw youuuuuuuuuuuu!"
With a hoarse roar, man and beast collided in one final clash.
"[Explosion——]"
"——————————!"
With great effort, he raised his left palm. At his final shout, a fireball of black flame entwined with deep red lightning shot forth at blinding speed, striking the monster mid-leap!
BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM—!
The black fire and crimson lightning exploded. With an earth-shaking roar, the terrifying blast swept through the entire passage. The unconscious Fron was blasted away.
As for the saber-toothed tiger — the instant it was hit by the "Explosion Flame," it turned to ash, not even the magic stone left intact.
Fron's broken body slammed into the rock wall and fell from midair.
Lying face-down, his blurred vision gradually faded into darkness.
Only his ears, in those final moments of consciousness, caught a series of startled cries—