The next morning, soft sunlight filtered through the gaps in the tent like strands of golden gauze, casting a gentle glow upon Akira's face.
He slowly awoke, his mind groggy and disoriented. A lingering unease haunted him—he had dreamt of being torn limb from limb by five wild horses. The memory of that nightmare made his scalp tingle.
Still half-asleep and murmuring to himself, Akira suddenly became aware of an unbearable weight on his chest, making it hard to breathe.
He froze.
A blonde girl was curled up on top of him, her delicate face flushed with a peaceful rosy hue as she slumbered soundly.
Akira thought, 'Good heavens, it's the blonde loli and she's sleeping directly on top of me?! No wonder I couldn't breathe!'
He let out a soft sigh, both helpless and resigned.
Of course I couldn't breathe...
Hoping to shift a bit, Akira attempted to move his right hand to ease the pressure. However, the moment he twitched his fingers, he was met with an unusual softness.
Startled, he turned his head slightly to the right and his eyes shot open wide in disbelief.
The Amazonesses lived up to their reputation of being fiery and uninhibited. Iska was hugging his right arm like it was her favorite pillow, clutching it with reckless abandon.
His arm had somehow slipped through the opening of her bra-like top. Her firm grip locked his arm in place, and the back of his hand was pressed intimately against her toned abdomen.
Gulping nervously, Akira then shifted his gaze to his left hand. Though the situation on that side wasn't as dramatic, he could still feel something soft resting against his palm.
And after a quick mental comparison... he concluded that the touch on his left was even softer than that of Iska's.
Well, she is the proud third-ranking member of the familia.
He thought, conflicted between awe and despair.
It didn't stop there. Akira then realized his head was nestled against someone's soft, warm belly.
Curious and fearful, he dared to turn his head further to the right. What greeted him was a pair of abundant, ample breasts that suddenly loomed into view, obscuring his entire vision. He couldn't even see beyond them.
At the same time, his legs twitched but found themselves restrained. Someone was holding onto his feet tightly, not letting him move an inch.
Wait a second...!
Akira's brain scrambled to piece things together.
Everyone in this party is a girl! I know there wasn't any "drinking party" last night, after all, there's a loli in the group.
Then why in the world were all of them crammed into this one tent?!
Credits go to Maryuu.
Last night, Maryuu had casually mentioned how comfortable Akira was to sleep on—like a human-sized pillow.
That one statement was like tossing a fireball into a pond of oil. The peaceful camp instantly descended into chaos.
Pandemonium broke out, and amidst the clamor, a scandalous secret was revealed: every girl, excluding Ryuu, had already secretly stolen a kiss from him.
Those confessions were like fuel poured onto an already raging fire, provoking those who hadn't yet "enjoyed" Akira into a jealous frenzy.
In the blink of an eye, the five of them pounced on him without hesitation.
Akira, unable to resist and lacking the courage to refuse, ended up crammed into a single tent with all five girls. As for Ais... he still had no idea when she had slipped in.
And so, this absurd and torturous scene unfolded—with Akira lying in the middle of a feminine pile, his soul nearly leaving his body, utterly devoid of will to live.
Tied down like a prisoner, he didn't dare move an inch. Internally, he cursed them all.
Damn it... once we get back home, I'm eating all of you alive!
— — —
Meanwhile, compared to the dangerous middle and upper floors of the dungeon, the Astraea Familia's return to the surface was a breeze.
However, the moment they exited the dungeon, the girls were met with a surprising sight—Floor 11 had been completely blocked off.
The Guild had taken immediate action following yesterday's tremor. A massive operation was underway, with staff working overtime to address the incident.
None of the Guild members could hide their astonishment. Not a single adventurer had emerged from the dungeon in over twelve hours—until now.
Astraea Familia was the last team to return. Though they were safe, their arrival didn't go unnoticed.
Hidden among the crowd were individuals belonging to evilus—silent observers with malicious intent.
Ever since the tremor had shaken the dungeon yesterday, the Guild had enforced a strict lockdown, cutting off all information. These underhanded supporters were left completely in the dark.
Though they knew Astraea Familia had been dragged into some kind of "experiment," no one would reveal what it actually entailed. The orders were clear—they had no right to know.
Since then, not a single member of evilus had returned.
No mercenaries, no scouts. Nothing.
The conspirators began to speculate. Perhaps their people had been attacked by monsters on the way out, or worse, utterly annihilated by Astraea's girls.
And now, seeing the entire Astraea Familia return unscathed... they finally had their answer.
Justice had triumphed once again.
The news spread quickly. The shadows trembled with fury.
In a lavish, dimly lit room somewhere in the city, a portly merchant of considerable wealth stood up with a snarl. His hand, trembling with rage, hurled a porcelain teacup to the floor, where it shattered into pieces.
"Not a single one of them died?!" He roared.
"We invested so much magic stone and firepower! And that damn evilus couldn't even kill one?! A bunch of useless trash!"