The forest was silent.
Silent in the way only death could bring.
The corpses of monsters lay scattered across the battlefield, painting the moss and dirt in shades of crimson and black. Broken trees leaned at odd angles where ogre clubs had shattered their trunks. Blood dripped steadily from Nemesis, black steel gleaming faintly under the moonlight.
Noah stood among it all, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. He looked calm, but every muscle in his body hummed with the aftershocks of battle.
"…Over."
The word left his lips like a sigh.
The seventh floor had thrown a wave at him, a storm of steel, fang, and muscle — and he had cut through it all. Yet, even in victory, Noah's golden eyes flickered with unease. The system wouldn't place a horde like this without reason.
And the egg…
