Aster ran into the dungeon. The mob ran through the room. Some people toppled the tables and chairs, the stone shattering against the floor. Others smashed crystals, freeing their fellow mob attackers from the crystals’ grip.

Lip twisting involuntarily, Aster looked around. I need to draw their attention. But how?

Dungeon, dark and dank. Shattered tables. The mob, mad and wild. Crystals, blooming from the ground. A massive stalactite, clinging to the ceiling.

Aster’s eyes glittered. Thousands of pounds of stone, dangling from on high? Perfect. That’ll be a big boom.

He charged toward it, drawing his hammer as he went. The mob members closest to the edge of the group flinched, but he ignored them. Leaping into the air, he spun his hammer around and smashed it into the base of the stalactite. It snapped off the ceiling and slammed into the ground with an ear-shattering boom.

The ground trembled. Across the cave, the rest of the stalactites trembled. Some of the weaker ones broke off the ceiling as well, raining down on the mob. The mob ducked, hiding their heads with their hands. Startled, they looked around.

Shit. I hope nothing fell on Stella. “Stella?” Aster asked, scanning the room.

“Aster!” Stella shouted. Though muffled, her voice made Aster’s heart ache, broken and ragged, on the verge of tears.

“I’m here!” he called back. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let this happen. I’ll never let it happen again!

“Aster!” Stella cried back, her voice joyous and relieved.

The mob rounded on Aster. One of the men immediately charged him with a shout, holding his pitchfork out. The rest of the mob followed, bearing down on Aster.

Aster deftly knocked the pitchfork to the side. He stepped in and drove the top of the hammer into the man’s gut, knocking the air out of him. Spinning the hammer around, he blocked the rest of the thrusts, throwing them to the side. A torch flew at him from overhead. Aster caught his hammer out of its spins and jabbed it up. The torch went flying and bounced off the wall behind him.

“There’s one of him! There’s many of us!” a man in the mob shouted.

Pitchforks slashed at him again. A group of torches thrust him back. Aster’s back hit the wall. He grit his teeth and pushed away, sidestepping away from the polearms. Dammit. There’s too many of them. They’re right. One man is not enough.

Across the room, the tiger suddenly charged. The mob members’ pitchforks scored long gashes in its flank, but it pushed by, ignoring them. Roaring, it leaped at the main mob, claws spread wide. The mob flinched back. Screams of terror emanated from its center, and the mob members tripped over one another as they fought to escape.

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The remaining mob members turned, distracted. Aster jumped forward and struck left and right, disarming the mob’s leaders. They stumbled away, falling onto their rears.

In the middle of the mob, the tiger struck left and right, sheathing its claws. Mob members went flying, struck to the floor.

Arcing high, the centipede struck its body down on the mob members, flattening them. Rushing over them, it whipped toward the mob, lashing out left and right and sending the mob members flying.

Only a few of the mob members remained upright. Aster ran into the grouping. With the tiger on his left and the centipede on his right, he blew through the remaining mob members. In a few seconds, none remained upright.

Aster spun his hammer around and thumped it on the ground. “Phew. Thank goodness.” That was easier than I thought. They were only ordinary villagers, after all. At best, a few were retired adventurers or delvers, but ultimately, they’re either rusty or failures, ones who never grew strong enough to truly make it as adventurers.

The tiger circled back around and paced by his side. Curving in on itself, the centipede curved back to stand on his other side. He stood over the mob, between them and the cracked stone wall. “So? Are you still going to destroy the dungeon?”

Bessa climbed to her feet and dusted herself off. She glanced around, then stepped forward. “We can’t live under the shadow of this dangerous dungeon. It’s turning people into monsters, killing people…”

“Only those who delve the dungeon are in danger from the dungeon. No monster has ever harmed anyone outside the dungeon,” Aster declared.

One heavy step inside the dungeon, hands still dripping blood, Daiyo paused. He glanced up. “Er, bad time?”

Aster put his face in his hands. He took a deep breath. “Except for one time, monsters have never threatened anyone outside the dungeon, and the only time they did was the time you villagers attacked the dungeon. Can you blame them for defending their own home?”

“Can you blame us for defending ours?” Bessa bit back.

“Defending how? Fontea was lying to you. The dungeon is no threat to you. When has the dungeon ever put the village in danger? Can you remember a single occurance?”

Bessa opened her mouth, then shut it. She put a hand to her chin and frowned.

“But they might! They might!” someone shouted from the floor.

“So? Why not wait until something actually happens to burn down the dungeon? Right now, you’re throwing the baby out with the bathwater. Because the dungeon has monsters, you’re going to throw out your village’s entire economy?” Aster asked, throwing his hand out.

“So what? We’ll go back to logging!” the man shouted.

Aster turned, looking the man in the eye. “Can you? Your elder told me. Before you discovered the dungeon, didn’t your village almost die out, after the logging industry weakened? Stella… that is, the dungeon… it helps you, it doesn’t hurt!”

“So what? It’s dangerous!” a different man called.

“And I ask again. Dangerous how? When has anyone ever been hurt?” Aster asked, putting his hands on his hips. One of the downed villagers turned toward Daiyo, so Aster rolled his eyes and cut them off, “Aside from just now, when you willfully attacked the dungeon.”

“You’re asking us to leave a wildfire on the hill because it hasn’t yet reached the village,” one of the women argued, sitting up.

“I’m asking you to leave the dungeon alone. The dungeon, which has never hurt anyone. Even SSS-rank dungeons don’t injure the towns outside them. What do you think is going to happen to this town?” Aster asked, shaking his head.

The mob fell silent. Aster looked over them, disappointed. Is this really all the more humanity has to offer? An idyllic little town like this can be whipped up to such hatred so easily, to even willfully destroy the town’s survival. It’s… a little pathetic.