Frog-Head finally ca out, just as he had wished.
Only—he ca out as ashes.
Everyone watched as his carbonized body hit the ground. Half of it crumbled instantly into drifting gray dust, carried away by the wind.
As for why only half?
Because the other half had never even made it in front of everyone before becoming fertilizer for the Cangyin Dungeon.
"What the hell just happened?" Mira jumped back, coughing violently as dust filled the air. "Did that ugly bastard die inside the dungeon?"
If Frog-Head had truly died within the dungeon, then that ant—
There was sothing inside the Cangyin Dungeon capable of killing him.
No one knew how much strength Frog-Head had retained when he charged inside, but judging from his speed, he definitely hadn't looked weak. At the very least, he must have still had fifty or sixty percent of his full power.
The group exchanged glances, each face equally bewildered.
When they had cleared the dungeon earlier, they hadn't sensed any especially powerful monsters. Could there be so hidden chanic? A special trigger that increased the difficulty?
One by one, they turned toward the local lord.
The Lord of Springday City reacted half a beat too slow. Only after feeling everyone's eyes on him did he snap back to reality and speak.
"The dungeon… reduced that despicable demon to ashes?"
Truly worthy of a noble. Even at a ti like this, he still chose his words carefully.
No one needed to question him further. His expression alone made it obvious—he knew absolutely nothing about what had happened inside the Cangyin Dungeon.
Silence fell.
A crow-like bird flew overhead. When it let out a sharp "caw," the Springday City guards were the first to erupt in cheers.
"Woo! The demon's dead!"
No one was more excited than they were. With the ringleader gone, they no longer had to charge in and fight to the death themselves.
That was the best possible outco.
The thunderous celebration quickly spread beyond the scene, reaching the residents of Springday City who had cautiously stepped outside to see what was happening. Soon, the entire city was roaring with relief and joy.
Only now did they fully grasp the situation.
Demons had been hiding within the city, sabotaging things and plotting sothing major—only to be completely wiped out by a suddenly appearing "army" riding giant wolves.
Ironically, the damage caused by the demons themselves was less severe than the injuries civilians sustained while trampling each other in panic.
If the Farron Guards had arrived only after the demons caused greater devastation, the dramatic effect might have been even stronger.
But the survivors of Val City had not chosen to beco Farron Guards for spectacle.
They did it so that what happened to them would never happen to anyone else.
Among everyone present, their emotions were the most complicated.
Watching Frog-Head scatter into the wind and return to nature, the Farron Guards stood in silence.
The battle intent that had been building inside them suddenly had nowhere to go. The bloodlust they had only just reignited in Springday City remained unsatisfied.
Seeing this, Darrick had no choice but to step forward and comfort them. There would be other demons in the future. Their desire for battle would be fulfilled eventually.
And if they truly found no demons inland—
Then once they grew stronger and gathered enough forces, they could march west, to the border where the kingdom t the Demon Continent.
There, slaughter would never be in short supply.
.
..
...
That very night, Springday City began post-battle cleanup—only to discover, to their surprise, that there was barely anything to clean.
The demons hadn't even had ti to cause widespread destruction before being eliminated.
All the lord could do was treat the wounded, console those whose loved ones had been transford into demons, and draft a report to send to the kingdom's central authority.
After completing all of that, he still had ti to host a banquet in honor of the Farron Guards who had co from afar to help.
Darrel tried to refuse.
But Luluwo grabbed his arm with a grin.
"After a great battle, shouldn't heroes enjoy a feast filled with wine and song? Just like Valhalla in the legends—endless banquets, endless at, endless wine, and endless—"
She abruptly stopped, realizing what she had almost said, then spat lightly.
"Vulgar barbarians."
Darrick chuckled—and during the banquet itself, he laughed even more.
As Luluwo said, a feast after battle was only fitting, especially when the fight had been a long-awaited act of revenge for the Farron Guards.
Hatred didn't disappear overnight.
But once vented, it beca calr. Sharper. No longer sothing worn plainly on their faces.
Incidentally, among those who had ridden giant wolves alongside the Farron Guards was a fearless writer—Charlie.
Or perhaps it was more accurate to call him a reporter now.
Using image-recording stones and written accounts, he docunted everything that had happened in Springday City. No embellishnt was necessary; the truth alone was already the stuff of legend.
Tonight's events were enough to make everyone involved famous.
The singing and laughter lasted until dawn.
Only then did another force finally arrive—reinforcents sent to support Darrick: the rcenaries led by Stan of the Horned Helm.
After learning that the crisis had already been perfectly resolved, Stan stood silent for a long ti.
Then he simply turned around and left with his n.
Compared to the bustling Springday City, Hainis of the Cangyin Dungeon felt rather lonely.
But at the mont, she had found sothing to occupy herself with.
"Esteed Lord of the Sein Dungeon, thank you for extending your hand in our ti of crisis. I, Hainis, in the na of a duke's daughter—ah, no, no, that sounds far too condescending!"
She had discovered a new pasti:
Writing thank-you letters.
One draft after another was tossed aside—either because the wording felt off or because the handwriting looked too ugly. In short, she wrote a lot of them.
In her eyes, the Sein Dungeon now resembled a white knight. All those malicious-looking trap designs had transford into nothing more than charming quirks.
Finally, she completed one letter.
Written with a quill nearly as large as she was.
Elegant handwriting.
A playful yet dignified tone.
Overflowing with sincere gratitude.
Even faintly infused with her own body scent.
And then she realized the biggest problem.
"There's no way to send the letter!"
Driven nearly mad, she could only hang it in the most conspicuous place inside the dungeon lord's chamber.
"If he can send gifts to … then maybe one day I'll be able to do the sa."
She pondered for a long ti, her will to survive surging.
Before she personally handed that letter to the Lord of the Sein Dungeon—
She absolutely could not die.
That would be terribly rude, wouldn't it?
In the days that followed, the Cangyin Dungeon transford once again.
Because of the demon invasion incident, it received unprecedented attention.
People flooded in, eager to see what had "stolen the kill" from the Farron Guards.
But once they entered, they discovered sothing unexpected.
Was the Cangyin Dungeon really this beautiful?
It had fully recovered—and the scenery was even more breathtaking than before.
Vast fields of sunflowers brimd with vitality. The fragrance of violets naturally cald the heart. The monsters were rely weak tree sprites who seed more interested in playing than attacking.
It had beco a massive, enchanting garden.
With its restoration complete, the Cangyin Dungeon stabilized its foundations at last—climbing back from the brink of death to barely sustaining itself.
So adventurers who had previously migrated to the Sein Dungeon returned, unable to handle its difficulty. Since Cangyin was back to normal, they figured they might as well stick together as fellow beginners.
There were also rumors that cherry- or chili-shaped monsters inside the dungeon could instantly kill people.
This attracted investigators.
Only a handful ever caught sight of them—
Before being reduced to ash amid a thunderous "BOOM!"
Most couldn't find them at all. As the stories spread, the Cherry Bomb and Jalapeño turned into urban legends.
One rumor even claid that couples who confessed their love during a Cherry Bomb explosion would stay together forever.
Absurd.
But for Hainis, it was all good news.
The more visitors she had, the longer she could survive.
For the foreseeable future, at least, she had no need to worry about dying.
As for whether she would one day grow strong enough to personally deliver the thank-you letter to Wade—
That would depend on fate.
The visible beneficiaries of this incident were the Farron Guards, Luluwo's group, and Hainis.
The hidden beneficiary, naturally, was the Sein Dungeon.
The reason required only one sentence:
"All of the Farron Guards' power cos from the Sein Dungeon!"
The impact of that statent was obvious. People would gasp in awe and envy before eagerly rushing into the Sein Dungeon in pursuit of power.
Baron Charon seized the opportunity perfectly, leveraging the Guards' actions to elevate the Farron na even further.
Now, everyone knew "Farron."
Farron-thed weapon toys sold out imdiately and remained perpetually out of stock.
Rumor had it that, to cut costs and accelerate production, the design team was considering a manufacturing thod known on Earth as "plastic reuse."
Information about "Farron" flooded everywhere, bordering on overexposure.
But that didn't matter.
As long as even one person remained unaware, promotion would continue relentlessly.
Yet amid this overwhelming tide of fa, there were still those who remained indifferent.
The gourt hunters who traveled between culinary zones gathering ingredients.
The dwindling miners.
The resource farrs grinding repeatable dungeons.
And—
Sword Saint Gapar, who spent every day running around in search of a Larval Tear.
It just wouldn't drop.
Did Larval Tear even exist? Or had that first one been a one-ti miracle?
Just as Gapar was about to give up, news arrived: a silver-ranked adventurer team had obtained a Larval Tear after defeating the Death Rite Bird.
"Damn you, Goddess of Luck! Why does this never happen to ?!"
When he finally tracked down the lucky team to purchase it, he discovered an infuriating truth.
It was a bound item.
Only the one who obtained it could use it.
"Damn it!"
Even now, the only magic Gapar could use was Carian Greatsword.
He was almost embarrassed to cast sothing so plain.
Still, it wasn't a total loss.
He had originally left seclusion for other matters. The plan had been to stay in Sein for a week or two.
Nearly a month had passed in the blink of an eye.
Since he had already delayed this long, delaying a bit longer wouldn't matter.
That matter wasn't urgent.
That day, Gapar entered the dungeon once more.
He changed his farming route.
Instead of wasting ti chasing a Larval Tear that might never appear, he decided to farm Endless Cycle—the roguelike mode.
After all, Carian Greatsword had been a reward from Endless Cycle.
Passing through Firelink Shrine toward the graveyard entrance, he walked by an elevator.
He passed it.
Then paused.
Then walked back.
"Huh? Wasn't this empty before?"
The previously barren elevator shaft now had a platform one could stand on.
Could it be a trap?
Step on it, and it shatters—sending him plumting to his death?
No…
This was still within Firelink Shrine. Sothing that ridiculous probably wouldn't happen here.
Curiosity killed the cat.
And humans were no exception.
Driven by instinct, Gapar stepped onto the raised center of the platform.
The elevator began to descend.
A faint, glowing blue light flowed along its edges, giving it a fantastical beauty.
The descent lasted a long, long ti—so long it felt as though he were sinking deep underground.
Yet there was no chill in the air.
"The magic density is increasing."
Gapar inhaled slowly.
The concentration of magic here was several tis higher than outside. Those with weaker resistance might even feel intoxicated.
What lay below?
His curiosity intensified.
A magical lifeform, perhaps?
At last, the elevator stopped.
Before he could even step off, a line of text appeared before him:
[Raya Lucaria Academy]
A brand-new area.
His eyes locked onto a single word.
"Magic…"
Gapar murmured softly, a faint light flickering in his gaze.
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