The naïve part of me that stubbornly persisted even after experiencing the apocalypse twice was disappointed when the four men attacked. As soon as they realized their charges were no longer in their care, the men acted.

They didn’t bother to ask questions or gain clarification. Seeing the former Springhearts no longer in their midst was enough to prompt them to attack.

With a Space magic user among them, I was forced to maintain Spatial Lock to prevent their escape.

Unlike Stasis which ultimately protected the target from harm, Pause and Slow could be used offensively. Consequently, maintaining Slow on the four men required a near-constant flow of mana once cast.

While the others countered the former guards, I focused on providing crowd control and protecting the former Springhearts. We had enough people on our side that I wasn’t needed for offense, which was good.

I was getting tired of fighting and killing people.

I was quite surprised at how many attacks were sent toward the woman and young boy. I probably shouldn’t have been after the woman’s declaration that they would kill her if she renounced her name, but it still surprised me.

What kind of men would try to kill a pregnant woman and child for leaving a family? It wasn’t like any of the men were part of the family, so it was hard for me to comprehend.

Using one of the few utility tools I’d enchanted, I raised a small stone wall around the pair, positioning the weak barrier behind the mana Barrier protecting them. The wall kept them from seeing the attacks lobbed their way. It also prevented the young boy from seeing any more death, at least for the moment.

We left as soon as I regained enough mana to safely Teleport us back to the sect alliance’s compound.

The woman was devastated to learn that her sister-in-law’s last known location had been raided earlier in the day, and there had been no survivors. Uncomfortable with the woman’s grief, I convinced Zavira and Niall to head back into the zones to grind.

While we remained available for missions, Zavira, Niall, and I spent most of our time during the next several weeks grinding and crafting. We targeted the zones most likely to have hidden Springhearts but didn’t encounter any outside of the rare organized missions we were asked to participate in.

Though missions were rare, I was surprised several times by the intel available to the sect elites on the fifth floor. Adrian hadn’t been exaggerating when he claimed they had access to an impressive information network.

Since it was obvious much of their information came from outside watchers, I couldn’t help but wonder why similar information was not being shared with the elites on the fourth floor.

Was there some kind of training purpose for withholding the information, or did the change come because all of the contracts were broken? Maybe the sects represented on the fifth floor were different from the ones on the fourth.

I hadn’t paid much attention during the infrequent interactions we’d had with our fellow sect elites on the previous floor.

Ultimately, it didn’t matter all that much since the fifth floor’s war was officially declared over less than a month after our arrival.

What would happen if a Springheart associate managed to ascend from the fourth floor? Would the war restart until they surrendered or were killed?

“Let’s celebrate by exploring the city!” Zavira said with a huge grin after reading the official notification ending the war.

I glanced at Niall. He shrugged. That was about as much enthusiasm as I could hope for when it came to doing things unrelated to earning experience.

We weren’t the only ones with that idea, and we ended up following the stream of excited elites leaving the city to enter the central city.

Everyone seemed to be in a great mood as we made our way through the ornate gates that had previously barred our path into the large city at the center of the floor.

We passed through the lower-class areas that made up the outer edge of the city without issue. Several of the lower-tier residents looked at the parade of sect elites warily, but none dared block our path.

The mood of the city shifted as the large group of elites entered one of the sections of the city dedicated to crafters. Instead of wary curiosity, there was an undertone of hostility emanating from many of the residents watching our group’s progression.

“Why do they look so angry?” I whispered to Zavira as I eyed some of the more irate-looking residents.

The Force Smith glanced around. “Not all of them look mad. A lot of them look grateful or even happy,” she said. “The mad ones were probably hoping the Springhearts won.”

I wasn’t sure she was right.

We passed by several large workshops and crafting halls. Many looked far more empty than they should have, and I somehow doubted it was because their workers were watching us pass.

I observed as one of the elites broke away to enter one of the buildings. He wasn’t the first to do so, but as the robed elite approached the door, a stout dwarf blocked his path, refusing to let the man pass.

As we got a bit closer, I could hear the tense exchange.

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“…not my fault they picked their mentors poorly,” the elite claimed angrily. I couldn’t see the man’s face, but I was certain it was reddening at the slight.

“And it’s not their fault your lot decided to start a war,” the dwarf sneered. “You’re not welcome here. Go somewhere else.”

I shook my head as I passed, hoping the elite wouldn’t start a fight. While there were presumably rules and enforcers within the dungeon cities, I doubted any of them wanted to get involved with a group of sect elites who’d just defeated one of the most prominent families in the dungeon.

We hadn’t won on every floor yet, but that didn’t matter. It was only a matter of time.

Variations of the same scene happened a few more times as elites attempted to gain access to goods, services, or workshops in the crafting district. Not every local acted the same way, but about a quarter of them did.

I could hear fighting behind us.

“Let’s head into the central village. Whatever tension is going on shouldn’t impact us much there. Maybe we can get a bit of insight into why so many locals are angry,” I suggested.

“That’s fine. But the war lasted more than a year,” Zavira said with a touch of confusion. “They really should be over it by now.”

I looked at my companion. She really did seem confused about the locals’ reaction to our group.

“Should they, though?” I asked. “Both sides have been banned from entering cities the whole time, so it’s not like they’ve gotten a chance to express their discontent. And I can kinda understand why they might be mad at elites since we were the ones who declared war, but it isn’t like we did it without cause.”

“True,” Zavira said thoughtfully. “But maybe that doesn’t matter to them?”

I shrugged and glanced around.

Niall had disappeared shortly after we entered the city, but I was sure he’d turn up eventually. We were probably moving too slowly for his tastes.

“Are you going to stop by the library after you sell all the loot you’ve been collecting?” my companion asked as we continued to follow several robed individuals toward the center of the city.

Niall had sold a portion of the materials we’d collected since arriving on the floor to the sect crafters, but there was still a lot being perfectly preserved in the new [Stasis Storage] ring I’d made using parts from a few Space-attuned creatures from the Wonderland zone.

My old Tier Four ring would eventually tier up, but I didn’t feel like waiting. The dungeon seemed to ‘help’ higher tier items lose power when they were taken to a lower floor, but it didn’t do the opposite when climbing.

It was annoying, but at least the enchantments didn’t break in the process. At least, most didn’t.

“I probably will,” I said after a moment of consideration. “We should spend a few days researching the floor now that we have the chance. The elites and locals fighting with us were remarkably ignorant about the floor, its challenges, and its history.”

“They knew about the Hot Spring,” Zavira reminded me.

The Hot Spring on the fifth floor was still (presumably) in the same place it had been for the last few decades. There had been no floor reset as of yet, and one wasn’t expected for at least another decade.

The Springheart family had not controlled access to the Hot Spring prior to the war, either. From what we were told, the family had failed to acquire it during the last reset. It hadn’t been a big issue, given how invested they were in other ventures on the floor.

Ventures like crafting halls and training facilities.

Maybe that was why so many looked empty or understaffed.

“Are we going to get apartments again?” Zavira asked a few minutes later. “I’d really rather have my own place than live out of the pods again. Not that I don’t appreciate them,” she added.

“I don’t mind getting an apartment,” I replied honestly. “Niall probably doesn’t care either way as long as we grind enough for him to feel we are progressing rapidly enough.”

“He really is hyper-focused on getting stronger, isn’t he?” My companion sighed and shook her head. “I kind of get it, especially if his family is pushing him.”

“I didn’t get the impression his family was a part of it, aside from him wanting to prove something?” I said uncertainly. “What little he has said makes it seem more like they viewed him as a weapon or a tool, and he’s trying to prove he’s more than that.”

“Perhaps,” she conceded. “Still, it’s not like he needs to worry about dying of old age. He’s partnered with a Time Mage from a famous Time Sect. I’m sure you could do your magic to extend his life if it really became an issue.”

I eyed my friend with a raised brow. She was smiling playfully, but I knew there was a level of seriousness to her comment.

And she wasn’t wrong.

I wouldn’t let a companion die of old age if I could do something to stop it. Further, I was much better now at doing rejuvenation treatments than I’d been when I tried to help my grandma and great-aunt.

Back then, I’d only focused on their brains, hoping the signals being sent from a refreshed brain would help rejuvenate the rest of their bodies. It had worked, but the effects had been pretty mild.

As far as I knew, both were still alive and well. At least, my parents hadn’t said anything to the contrary.

After my lessons with Master Kairos, I now had a much better understanding of how to manipulate physical degradation caused by aging. And since such magics weren’t seen as hostile by the body’s mana, I had a lot of flexibility in how I could target the body.

“Anyway, let’s offload our loot and earn some credits. We should grab some food, too. It’s been a while since we ate something new.”

“You don’t want to wait for Niall to sell everything?”

I shook my head. “He decided to head off on his own. It’s not like he doesn’t know where we’re going.”

----------------------------------------

I opted to get a small apartment in the central village instead of getting a nicer, more expensive apartment in the city. Niall did the same, though Zavira went with the fancier option.

Her apartment was several blocks away, but with how quickly we were able to travel, it only amounted to a few minutes.

It only took a bit of casual conversation with those who’d remained in the city to figure out why so many crafters were upset with the elites and the Springhearts.

Apparently, when the war started, most of the awakened students learning from Springheart crafters or using Springheart-owned facilities were teleported to their ‘proper’ floor as part of the war efforts.

Some of the young apprentices were barely awakened, and their family and friends had not taken their disappearance well.

The new conscripts were able to exchange monthly messages with their family, just like everyone else communicating with people outside the dungeon or on different floors.

Unfortunately, knowing that their loved ones were stuck on a lower floor with a bunch of hostile aliens had done nothing to soothe the worries of the people left behind.

However, since there were no allied sect elites on the first three floors of the dungeon, the war itself was quickly wrapped up, and they only had to deal with a bunch of ignorant humans from Earth who were freaking out at seeing non-humans for the first time.

I still wasn’t sure how the dungeon would handle ascending Springhearts and their allies when higher floors had ended the war in the sect elites’ favor, but it wasn’t something I was overly concerned about.

The old me would have probably put a lot of thought into it. I would have wondered and agonized over the potential outcomes, letting the weight of my guilt for inadvertently sparking a war drag me down until I could no longer progress.

The old me would have probably reacted a lot like Faith had after our fight with the bandits.

I was not that person anymore.

I still felt a lot of guilt for the lives that were lost in the war, especially the innocent ones. But I refused to let my guilt control me.

Compartmentalization was my friend.

While exposing the Springhearts’ actions had ultimately led to the war, the true fault lay with the Springhearts. If their sins hadn’t been so grievous, the sects wouldn’t have banded together to declare war against them.

Stopping people like Andruno Springheart was a good thing. I just needed to remind myself of that occasionally.