He hadn’t been lying to the others about his appointment, however. Once he finished his practice, he walked back into the city proper, towards Guild headquarters. Waiting for him in a well warmed office was a miffed yet beautiful female half elf, her good looks only accentuated by her mild chagrin. Her emerald eyes glared at the young swordsman as he sat down across from her. He had the grace, at the very least, to look penitent. That did not save him from his lecture:
“Tim, what on earth did you do?! The last I see of you; you barge out of my office after asking about supporters. The next, I hear you’ve fought a Level 2 monster in a duel to the death! Not only was it rude for you to cut me off, but now I hear you nearly threw your life away? You’ve been an adventurer for less than two months now, but you’re taking so many unreasonable risks and…”
This went on for some time, while Tim tried his best to look contrite. Truly speaking, there wasn’t much he would have done differently at the end of the day. Maybe he should have dealt with Eina a bit more considerately, but he had already made his stance on this type of thing as clear as crystal. No one got stronger without a little blood and a little risk. The fact that it caused worry for the women in his life wasn’t new, but neither was the fact that said worry wouldn’t stop him from training hard. It might make him a bit more careful and ensure he was well prepared, but that was it. As for the dragon, that just wasn’t his fault at all. What was he supposed to do, let the weaker adventurers get eaten while he ran away? Both practically and morally, that wasn’t going to happen.
He carefully kept these thoughts to himself, however. Eina’s worry, while misguided, was rather sweet. A part of him wanted to push her away, simply because he could tell that his antics were causing her heartache, despite the recency of their acquaintance. But he couldn’t afford to do that, since her wealth of knowledge and skill as a teacher was invaluable. So, he weathered her lecture and apologized as earnestly as he was capable, indicating that he would do his best to avoid unreasonable danger going forward. Though whose definition of “unreasonable” he would use was left deliberately unsaid. “Unreasonable danger” in his book was running all the way to the Deep Levels as a Level 2. That he would promise not to do. The rest was fair game.
Sufficiently mollified, she finally gave him a beaming grin:
“Well, so long as you understand, why don’t we start talking about what I know you actually came for, hmm? I’ll tell you all about the Middle Floors, you little rascal.”
The Middle Floors was where enemies at the caliber of Level 2 and beyond began to spawn. They still spawned enemies at the higher end of Level 1, but they did so at a rapid speed sufficient to pressure even lower end Level 2s. Their layout was more complex, with a broad matrix of interlocking tunnels connecting each floor. One had to be constantly on the lookout for random pitfalls that could send a careless adventurer falling to deeper floors. The consensus was that a good party was mandatory on these floors, even for Level 2 fighters, due to the volume and the ferocity of the enemies. Official Guild policy cautioned against solo adventuring here.
Adama was practically in heaven just imagining it. He eagerly memorized maps of the place and listened to descriptions of its denizens. There was a whole new variety of monsters, and with more complex abilities than those on the Upper floors, but that just made the Middle floors seem more interesting. Eina gave him the best overview she could in their hours together, but she left him with a good amount of extra reading to do before he was supposed to brave these new challenges. They finished up their learning session and she just shook her head:
“I’m sure you’re not asking me all of this for academic purposes, so your eagerness in learning about vicious monsters is a little concerning. Because I know I can’t stop you from doing something foolish, no matter how many lectures I give you, at least take this.”
She rustled around in a bag and produced a vial of forest green liquid with a circle of rope attached. She tenderly looped the rope around his neck, the potion necklace settling into place on his chest:
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“It’s a Dual potion. Capable of restoring both health and magic since you are a capable mage as well. Hold onto it in case of emergency, okay?”
When he nodded, taken aback at the value of the gift, she patted him on the shoulder and grinned again:
“Be safe, Tim.”
And with that, Adama left for home, eager to get back to eat a quick dinner and get some speed reading done. The time for rest was long over.
…
It was a full moon that evening, and winter’s coming had diminished the majority of Orario’s nightlife as well. The bright moon illuminated a scant few figures in their tavern crawling or going about their evening business. Most of those figures were hunched up against the chill of the wind and hurrying eagerly to reach more hospitable locales. One man broke that trend, standing straight backed as he hustled down Northwest Main Street, heading right towards the most inhospitable place in the world.
Adama sped down the pathways of the Upper floors promptly, any monsters brave or foolish enough to get in his way dispatched with alacrity. In no time, he finally reached the new challenge of the 13th floor. He was quickly set upon by a strange bipedal rabbit monster with red eyes, wielding natural weapons of stone dagger. This was an Almiraj, one of the weaker monsters on the Middle floors that was no stronger than a Level 1 individually. Adama slid under its opening attack and dispatched it with pitiable ease. Fortunately for the sake of his training, however, the Almiraj attacked in packs.
A half dozen of the creatures crashed into the large room that he had stopped in, squeaking with an intention to avenge their fallen brother. But whether there was one of them or six, they could barely lay a claw on Tim as he deflected or dodged every incoming attack with grace and poise. The Almiraj were experienced pack hunters, so they didn’t let him kill them off easily and tried to cover for each other as best as they could. But once he managed the down one, then two of them, the rest of them folded like a house of cards. It wasn’t long before they were dust in the wind, with only a small scratch on Adama’s cheek to show for their efforts.
“Let’s kick this up a notch or three.” He muttered, dropping his bait on the floor, and waiting patiently.
Soon, he found that he had gotten more than he bargained for.
The higher spawn rates in the Middle Floors and the high quality of his bait meant that his room was swarming with monsters in little to no time. A small army of Almiraj, backed up by a similar gathering of black dog monsters bore down on Adama, flooding his room faster than he could kill them off, even with Rippling Sword. The black dogs, Hellhounds, kindled fiery breath and spewed it at him, coming from so many directions that dodging was impossible. Some of the streams of fire hit Adama head on… and did no damage whatsoever.
Adama’s dragon leather coat glimmered in the faint Dungeon light as he fought back against the army of creatures, making him largely impervious to any fire attacks and more resilient against slashing attacks as well. It was key in keeping him alive as the mob pressured the fledgling Level 2 adventurer, stretching even his skills to their limits to kill his enemies ever faster. Eventually, he grew tired of the threats and prepared his trump card:
“Hear the song of a faraway land, a dance of a thousand blades.
Honed in the flames of war and sharpened in blood-soaked glades.
A glint in the moonlight, bane of the horde.
Skill of a Sage, the Endless Sword.”
Hearthblade vibrated gently as it rang like a bell, generating a plethora of green sword slashes in a domelike area surrounding Adama. The enemies in his immediate area were quickly reduced to pieces as the wave of energy rippled outward. Some, further away from Adama, were only injured by the wave of magic as it lost steam. But when it touched them, their own natural weapons rang with a faint echo of Hearthblade’s own chime, and they succumbed to further injury. Within a breath, nearly every monster in the chamber was dead or dying. Reinforcements still poured in, but nothing could wipe the grin off Adama’s face in that moment.
It didn’t have the same flexibility as the true Endless Sword since it only worked at the “sword like a storm” level. It only unleashed sword aura in an uncontrolled burst and wouldn’t allow greater nuances in targeting. Not to mention the fact that it required that silly chant. But Tim was still ecstatic to have the foundation of his old Path back, and deep down he felt that all those problems could be rectified with time and practice.
Eventually, the stream of monsters slowed to a trickle and petered out. Adama didn’t even need to use the Endless Sword again, due to how thin he was able to keep their ranks after his first usage of the magic in combat. He realized in the aftermath of the battle, however, that there was another problem with the lack of control in the technique. Almost half of the creatures he killed with the magic had seen their magic stones seriously damaged, sometimes even cleaved in two. The storm of swords had been too thorough in its work.
Still, he had wiped out so many of them that he had pulled in a decent haul, even with the attrition. He would simply need to relegate his Endless Sword to a safety measure, rather than his first option, as he was conscious of the looming debt payment and the need to finance even his daily hunts. Even so, he scooped up what remained of the monster drops and began to move to another location. He had wiped out enough monsters in this area that he would have more success if he moved. As he sprinted through underground caverns of the deadliest place in the world, he began to hum a tune of his own.