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"Flight Magic, Heart-Guard Armor, Instant Step…"
Flight magic and defensive magic were considered advanced magic, while Instant Step was only intermediate. But once fused with flight, the combined Flight-Shift spell fell into the advanced category as well.
He still needed to practice these techniques thoroughly before passing them on to the Hera Familia. "That should be enough."
Aside from the basics of mana control, these would be the spells worth teaching.
After pondering a moment, Ronen turned to face another wave of orcs, drawn once again by the lure item he had used earlier. The tool's effect was impressive—still working after all this time.
Once he cleared them out, he summoned his Mage's Hand to collect the magic stones, then departed for a quieter area.
Finding a relatively secluded spot, he released a detection wave, sweeping a radius of two hundred meters. Eliminating every monster in the vicinity, Ronen finally closed his eyes and sat still.
Half of his mana was already gone. He needed to recover before continuing deeper.
Meditation-Mana recovery
Aside from keeping a faint awareness of surrounding life and danger, he focused his entire consciousness inward, accelerating the recovery of his magic.
Two minutes passed before three monsters intruded. Without breaking his focus, he split off a fraction of attention and dispatched them.
At the third minute, over ten monsters came. By the fifth, the walls around him began to crack apart.
Ronen raised his head calmly—just in time to see seven or eight venomous moths crawl out. With a single Shockwave, they were annihilated, and he returned to meditation.
Before long, more monsters appeared again.
The Dungeon was alive—Ronen felt that truth with startling clarity.
The moment one showed weakness, the Dungeon would swarm with monsters and spring traps without end, grinding down every last trace of strength. Even on the upper floors, finding true rest was nearly impossible.
Even the so-called "beginner's zone" of floors 1 to 4 required teamwork to be remotely safe.
Eighteen minutes later, his mana had fully recovered.
In that short span, he endured nine separate assaults.
Three of those waves alone would have been enough to wipe out a lower-class adventurer's three-man party. Such was the malice of the Dungeon.
"For me… that was only mildly stressful," Ronen muttered as he stood, moving on.
Before long, he descended to the Twelfth Floor. After slaying a young dragon that blocked his path, he pressed on and soon reached the Thirteenth.
This was the start of the Middle Floors. Compared to the upper levels, the environment here was far more oppressive.
"Heart-Guard Armor."
The yellow, invisible shield formed once again around him as he continued forward.
It was his first time entering the Middle Floors alone, and even he grew cautious.
The corridors stretched endlessly, winding and twisting into the dark like a maze without end. The oppressive atmosphere weighed heavily on his shoulders.
A herd of unicorn rabbits charged from the front, while in the shadowed tunnel behind them, two hellhounds bared their fangs, their scarlet eyes glowing faintly in the blackness.
"Distracting rabbits in front, hidden hellhounds behind… what a thoughtful welcome gift."
No wonder this was called the First Line of Death.
From the Thirteenth Floor onward, monsters were no longer mindless. They grew cunning.
Ambushes, traps, poison, monster feasts, monster processions—unexpected threats lurked everywhere.
Even the so-called "Main Gods" of infinite-flow worlds would never hand out truly hopeless tasks. Yet the Dungeon itself held endless malice toward adventurers. Once caught off guard, survival was almost impossible.
"Shockwave."
A sudden sonic blast rang out. In an instant, the entire herd of unicorn rabbits was annihilated.
"Flying Sword."
With a sweep of his will, Ronen directed the flying swords to pierce through the throats of the two hellhounds. The first wave of monsters was annihilated.
Unicorn Rabbits had only one advantage—their agility. But as a swarm, their collective battle capability was formidable, enough that their potential was classified as Level 2 threats.
Hellhounds, on the other hand, boasted powerful physical strength, but what made them truly dangerous was their ability to wield magic.
Even a seasoned Level 2 adventurer could be reduced to ash under their flames.
Of course, the darkness of the Dungeon posed no problem for Ronen. Their ambush meant nothing to him.
He pressed forward. Before long, more monsters appeared. Choosing efficiency, he cut them down with Flying Swords—low in cost, yet not lacking in power.
"Poison again?"
A few venomous Blue Moths burst from the walls. Ronen dispatched them, his face betraying mild irritation.
The angles of their attacks were tricky, and even with his heightened senses, the Dungeon's walls interfered with detection to some degree.
Were it not for his Heart-Guard Armor, he might already have needed an antidote—or purification magic.
Unlike in the upper floors, he dared not recklessly use Flight-Shift to blitz through. Here, caution was survival. Step by step, he descended.
By the time he reached the Sixteenth Floor, something caught his attention.
"…Detection Wave."
A flood of life signatures. Too many. His instincts whispered danger.
The wave spread out, and the truth came into focus: more than a hundred monsters clustered together, and within their encirclement—two girls.
"…A Monster Feast."
Ronen sighed.
He himself had triggered such a phenomenon back on the Tenth Floor, deliberately, in order to test his defensive spells. But this… this was different. This was no experiment—this was the Dungeon itself, laying a trap.
Without hesitation, he moved toward the commotion.
After all… those two girls wouldn't last much longer.
"Scatter and pierce—Flying Swords."
Thirty-six blades streaked into the horde, weaving erratically, a storm of steel and blood. Crimson rain sprayed across the cavern.
Even the Minotaur—the most fearsome monster designated to this floor—was slain in a single exchange. Against Ronen, there was no contest.
"You two all right?"
Breaking through the ring of monsters, Ronen stepped inside, his eyes settling on the girls.
One tall, one small—both with short hair.
The elder was in her early twenties, long dark-blue hair framing her sharp, determined features. Ronen's detection told him she was a seasoned Level 2 high-rank adventurer.
The younger was around eleven or twelve, with lighter blue hair and a softer, cuter face.
"…Thank you for saving us."
The older girl exhaled, relief flooding her expression. Her face had paled, and as her legs gave out, she dropped to a crouch.
Had Ronen not intervened, their only option would have been to gamble everything on breaking through the encirclement.
Fortune had smiled on them—they had survived.
"Do you have any healing potions?" Ronen asked calmly, making no move to help her up.
"...Our supporter was killed in an earlier ambush. My pack's gone." The blue-haired adventurer shook her head, voice heavy.
"I see. In that case, take mine."
From his own bag, Ronen produced two bottles—one healing potion, and one stamina draught.
Glancing at the younger girl, he noted only a pair of shallow cuts on her body. No need to waste resources there.
"Thank you."
Understanding the urgency, the older girl hesitated only briefly before drinking.
Her wounds knit together, her strength steadied. With her spear as support, she forced herself upright, ready to face the next wave.
But then her eyes widened.
In the short span it had taken her to recover, the battlefield had already been reduced to a crimson ocean of blood.
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