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The Healer Who Cleared The Raid
Floor 1: First threat!

Floor 1: First threat!

The first floor of the Abyssal Spire reveals itself as a vast, circular arena. Three towering iron gates stand at equal distances around the edge, their surfaces rusted with age and covered in deep claw marks.

I step forward, gripping my staff tightly. The moment my boot touches the center of the arena, the entrance behind me slams shut with a deafening THUD.

The torches ignite one by one, casting flickering light over the arena’s stone walls. The sudden glow makes the long, jagged shadows stretch like claws reaching toward me.

Then I hear it.

Chains rattling.

A low, mechanical groan as the heavy gates begin to rise.

I swallow hard, my heart pounding.

From the darkness beyond the gates, three small figures emerge.

Goblins.

Green-skinned, hunched, barely reaching my waist. They carry crude daggers and wooden clubs, their sharp yellow teeth flashing as they hiss at me.

"Khew! Khaa!"

…I don’t know what kind of language that is, but it sounds ridiculous.

The problem isn’t their battle cries, though.

The problem is…

I have never actually fought a real opponent before.

My crimson eyes widen as the goblins let out shrieks and charge.

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Panic surges through me. My mind blanks. My carefully thought-out battle plans? Gone. Years of studying adventurer logs? Useless.

I do what any logical person would do in this situation.

I turn around and start running for my life.

“Aaaaagh! Go away, you ugly green goblins!” I scream, dashing across the arena.

They chase after me, snarling.

No, no, no, it’s not supposed to be like this! This is only the first floor! I’m supposed to be an unstoppable, rule-breaking healer! Not… whatever this is!

I force myself to stop and spin around, raising my staff in what I hope looks like a battle stance.

“Come at me!” I shout.

The goblins don’t even hesitate. They lunge.

That’s when I remember—

…I don’t have any combat spells.

Oh.

Oh no.

In a blind panic, I swing my staff with all my strength.

WHACK!

The first goblin takes the hit straight to the forehead. Its head snaps back, and it stumbles, dazed.

It worked?!

I don’t have time to process my accidental success before the second goblin lunges. On pure reflex, I swing again.

BONK!

The goblin reels backward, dropping its club.

I stare at my staff.

Then at the goblins.

Then back at my staff.

A thought occurs to me.

I can’t use offensive magic. I don’t have a sword.

…But I do have a very sturdy staff.

“Alright, you little gremlins,” I mutter, gripping my weapon tighter. “You asked for this.”

The goblins hesitate. Maybe they sense what’s coming.

I launch myself at them.

"DIE! DIE!” I yell, swinging my staff like an old granny.

WHACK! WHACK! THWACK!

One goblin goes flying. The other drops to the ground, twitching.

The last one tries to retreat, but I kick it in the stomach.

It crumples with a pathetic wheeze.

Silence.

I pant, hands on my knees, surveying the aftermath.

Three unconscious goblins.

One slightly bent staff.

Zero dignity.

“…That was only the first floor,” I mutter, wiping the sweat from my forehead.

I plop down on the ground, exhausted.

"Hah… good thing they were low-rank goblins. So stupid…” I mumble to myself.

I exhale, finally catching my breath.

Alright.

That was just the beginning.

I glance at the next gate. It looms over me, waiting.

I sigh.

Only 99 floors to go.