The third wave of monsters had been annihilated.
"Woo!" The cheers of the adventurers echoed across the battlefield, their voices a mixture of exhaustion and relief. The weight of their victory was palpable, but the battle was far from over.
The dungeon break would not cease until the Dungeon Core was destroyed. Everyone in command was acutely aware of that unspoken truth.
Alaric raised his hand, the signal for order amidst the chaos. His voice rang out, clear and commanding. "Healer, tend to those with severe wounds!"
Without hesitation, the healers sprang into action, their hands glowing with the power to mend and restore. Adventurers who had been battered and bloodied from the battle were brought back from the brink.
A few steps away, an S-rank mage approached one of the S-rank warriors, his face drawn with fatigue.
"There were so many casualties…" The mage's voice was heavy with sorrow. "At the very least, tell the adventurers to gather the bodies and bury them properly."
The warrior gave a grim nod. "Alright. Just rest for now; leave the rest to me." With that, he turned and strode off, his expression hardening as he surveyed the aftermath.
"Thanks." The mage muttered under his breath, sinking to the ground, his energy completely spent. He needed a moment of respite.
As the mage rested, Alaric, ever watchful, approached him, his brow furrowed with concern.
"Are you alright?" Alaric's voice softened, genuine care slipping through his usually commanding tone.
"I'm fine, thank you for the reinforcements." The mage spoke, his voice low as he lay back in the corner, too weary to rise. His strength would take time to return.
"Don't mention it." Alaric paused, considering the mage's face for a moment before introducing himself. "May I know your name? I'm Alaric Stoneheart, Guild Master."
The mage's lips curled into a tired, but grateful smile. "We know who you are." He chuckled weakly. "I'm Liam Hemsworth. One of the S-rank adventurers in this city."
"You don't look a day over sixteen." Alaric tilted his head, a glint of curiosity in his eyes. "How old are you?"
"Twenty." Liam sighed, his breath still ragged. "Two years as an adventurer."
Alaric raised an eyebrow. "Twenty? Your face doesn't suit your age."
Liam didn't respond, his exhaustion overwhelming any desire for conversation. Instead, he closed his eyes, resting for the moment.
Alaric studied him for a moment, a question lingering on his mind. "Did Gerald and the others leave a few hours ago? How long has the raid team been gone?"
Liam nodded slowly. "Yeah, they left about 2-3 hours ago." His voice was strained, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. "They've been gone for a while now."
Alaric's gaze sharpened, his mind racing. "So, they've been gone for just 2-3 hours?"
He thought to himself, Normally, a dungeon expedition lasts anywhere from 3 to 5 hours, depending on the size of the dungeon. I know this dungeon is massive, but I hope they finish quickly.
Meanwhile, on the 80th floor of the dungeon, Draven and Gerald's team had finally arrived at their destination.
The entrance was a massive, imposing door—the final threshold before the unknown. Behind them, the vast expanse of the 79th floor had already been conquered. Now, the 80th floor awaited.
Before them stood towering stone walls, ancient and weathered. To either side, rows of immense stone pillars stood in uneven formation, spaced far apart. The air was thick with the scent of age, as if time itself had bled into the stones.
The walls and pillars were coated in faded shades of yellow and orange, the color reminiscent of an ancient sunset. Etched into their surfaces were strange symbols, worn by centuries of neglect. Cryptic markings, their meanings lost to history, danced faintly in the eerie glow of the painted designs.
In the distance, another massive door loomed, its dark silhouette beckoning them forward. The atmosphere was heavy with mystery, as though the dungeon was holding its breath.
Gerald took a deep breath, his voice carrying a quiet command. "We're here. Prepare yourselves."
He could feel the tension in the air. Some of the adventurers were clearly frightened, their nerves getting the better of them.
Draven, his expression stone-cold, spoke next, his voice unwavering. "Stay sharp, everyone."
And with that, the team ventured into the unknown, stepping cautiously onto the 80th floor of the dungeon.