"We weren't even the first to clear it?"
The result caught Luluwo completely off guard.
She had been convinced that once they'd cracked the Rust Monster strategy, the first-clear title was theirs by default. Which meant no Mimic Tear Larva — the guaranteed drop for whoever got there first.
A shame.
Not that they had any real use for it. Still — disappointing.
Dice materialized before everyone.
The reward system appeared to function the same way it did at the Magic Academy: each person received their own personal rewards based on whatever number they rolled, with Sein Dungeon's internal contribution-tracking system adjusting the quality according to individual performance during the fight.
One reward, however, went to everyone regardless of contribution.
[Soul of the High Lord]
The soul of High Lord Wolnir. One of the twisted souls steeped in immense power.
Can be consumed to acquire a large quantity of souls, or transposed to extract the power hidden within.
High Lord Wolnir, who stood atop countless corpses. It is said his wish was to become the final dead.
An old man's voice drifted through the air.
The surroundings shifted.
Everyone found themselves looking at an elderly figure seated upon the Throne of Cinder.
Ludleth of Courland.
Adventurers who defeated the Abyss Watchers' first phase received the Soul of the Blood of the Wolf, and Ludleth would appear to ask whether they wished to transpose it and draw out its dormant strength. Almost nobody ever refused, barring the rare case where someone desperately needed a large soul infusion for leveling instead.
No one had expected to run into Ludleth here as well.
It seemed defeating any area's boss and receiving its soul was sufficient to trigger a meeting.
That reminded Luluwo of something.
Why hadn't Rennala's Mimic Tear ever dropped a soul? She had turned that question over for a genuinely embarrassing amount of time. Maybe the Mimic Tear wasn't the real queen. Maybe Mimic Tears simply didn't possess souls in the first place. She had constructed several increasingly elaborate theories to explain it.
But there was another possibility worth considering.
Maybe the dungeon lord had just forgotten to include it.
That was the beauty of fragmented storytelling, really — players would happily invent entire cosmologies to paper over a creator's oversight.
"I'll transpose it."
Naturally, Luluwo had no interest in simply consuming the soul outright. Once she confirmed her choice, Ludleth laid out the options.
Equipment:
Wolnir's Holy Sword
Wolnir's Bracelets
Pyromancies:
Black Serpent
Wolnir's Death Miasma
And finally —
A passive ability called High Lord's Majesty.
In this world, abilities of that kind were generally categorized as unique talents.
Five rewards. Every single one looked exceptional.
Luluwo's eyes practically glittered as she took them in.
She understood, of course, that none of these weapons or spells could possibly match the versions Wolnir himself had wielded. Once they landed in mortal hands, they'd almost certainly come out significantly diminished.
Even knowing that — she had the heart of a true collector. Her dream had always been to own one of everything Sein Dungeon had to offer. A complete set. A finished collection.
Of the five, Wolnir's Holy Sword tempted her most. Every fight against the High Lord had been shaped by Wrath of the Gods and its cruel efficiency.
Now she wanted to visit that same cruelty on other people.
Fair was fair. "Treat others the way you don't want to be treated," as the saying didn't quite go.
The Wolnir Bracelets — the three protective bands from the High Lord's arms — offered protection against Abyssal corruption, with stacking effects across all three simultaneously.
"…I don't really have much use for resisting Abyss corruption," Luluwo admitted, shaking her head.
Sein Dungeon hadn't featured any area built entirely around Abyssal threats — Artorias's Painted World arguably came closest, but that was a stretch. The bracelets were eliminated from consideration almost immediately.
The pyromancies — Black Serpent and Death Miasma — were Wolnir's two signature attacks. One sent black flames slithering across the ground in pursuit of targets. The other released poisonous miasma that dealt continuous damage over time.
Though — why was the second one specifically labeled Wolnir's Death Miasma? Was there another Death Miasma out there it needed distinguishing from?
Both spells were genuinely strong on their own merits.
Finally: High Lord's Majesty. Functionally similar to the Wolf Blood's Blessing obtainable from the Soul of the Blood of the Wolf, both primarily strengthened the adventurer directly. The difference was that High Lord's Majesty significantly increased resistance to status ailments, boosted affinity with any summoned undead, and strengthened those undead servants directly. The description suggested the enhancement wasn't minor. It also periodically summoned an undead ally bearing the Carthus prefix, essentially free of charge.
"…Necromancers would kill each other over this."
After a long stretch of deliberation, Luluwo couldn't talk herself out of the Holy Sword's pull.
She chose it.
The moment the massive blade landed in her hands, she sprinted to a nearby corner and activated its Weapon Art —
Wrath of the Gods.
BOOM!!
In her excitement she overcommitted mana entirely — a shockwave swept the full width of the chamber, catching Elsa and the others mid-deliberation over their own rewards and sending them sprawling across the floor.
By any reasonable standard, Luluwo should have been celebrating that range and power.
Instead, she was flat on the ground, arms wrapped around the sword, wearing an expression of complete exhaustion — the picture of a soul that had briefly left the body and only reluctantly returned.
Textbook mana exhaustion. Literally.
Belto rushed over and force-fed her two bottles of mana potion.
The first words out of her mouth once consciousness returned:
"Hehe…"
"My Holy Sword…"
Her smile radiated pure, uncomplicated joy.
Wrath of the Gods did consume an absurd quantity of mana for output that wasn't even that impressive in raw terms.
But it was fun.
"Tomorrow…"
"I'm going invading."
"Specifically looking for cliffs. Suspension bridges."
"Hehehe."
Fully returned to her usual mischief, Luluwo delivered the declaration with an unmistakably evil grin.
The others finished selecting their rewards not long after.
Notably, Tami and Elsa were the only two who chose High Lord's Majesty. Neither had any use for the undead-summoning enhancements — what they wanted was the status resistance.
Thinking about it more, it was an excellent choice on its own merits. Even Sword Saint Gapar couldn't take repeated Basilisk encounters without consequence. Any adventurer hoping to explore Sein Dungeon comfortably was going to need status resistance sooner or later.
It occurred to Luluwo, thinking it over, that this was the first time Sein Dungeon had ever offered a permanent method of building status resistance.
The moment she registered that, something else clicked into place.
High Lord Wolnir was about to become an extremely popular farming target.
Beyond the High Lord's Soul, everything else came down to the dice. Among the general rewards everyone received: Wolnir's Crown, Wolnir's Ragged Cloth, Somber Smithing Stones, various EXP Candies, Ashes from monsters found in the region, and a substantial pile of miscellaneous items.
The volume was considerable. The rarity was equally impressive.
It genuinely felt like a bountiful harvest.
"Now that everything's sorted," Tami said, stretching until something in his back popped, "can we go back and actually rest, Captain?"
After days of continuous effort, even someone forged from pure iron would be running on fumes. All he wanted right now was a bed and permission to stop moving.
Elsa looked toward Luluwo too, her eyes carrying an unmistakable question: Can I finally go back to the Light Eagle now?
"Alright."
"Let's head ba—"
Luluwo stopped mid-word.
Something at the edge of her vision.
"Wait."
"Isn't there another path over there?"
Everyone turned to follow her pointed finger.
The wall that had been sealed until now had split apart, revealing a staircase leading upward.
"…Seriously?"
"There's another path after Wolnir?"
"Don't tell me—"
"Wolnir wasn't even the final boss?"
A brief, heavy silence.
Then —
To Elsa's genuine confusion — everyone's mood shifted.
Excitement.
Real, unmistakable excitement.
Even Tami, who thirty seconds earlier had wanted nothing beyond a bed, suddenly found reserves of energy he hadn't known he had.
What is wrong with these people? Does their enthusiasm for new maps simply not have an off switch?
"Hah!" Luluwo pumped a fist. "I don't care who got the first clear on Wolnir. But I refuse to lose the race to a new area."
She turned to face everyone, adopting the swagger of a gang leader addressing loyal underlings.
"Alright, people!"
"Anyone got enough left in the tank for one more push?"
"We do!"
"Excellent! Let's move!"
She marched forward with visible energy.
Everyone fell in behind her, proud and determined.
Thud.
A body hit the floor.
Luluwo turned around.
Her "underlings" were now scattered across the ground in various states of collapse. Only Elsa remained upright, wearing an expression of complete bewilderment. She genuinely couldn't work out why everyone who had been so full of purpose thirty seconds ago had gone down all at once, with no warning.
"What's wrong with all of you? Ugh—"
Elsa's own legs gave out mid-sentence.
She hit the ground and found she couldn't get back up either.
Now that the fight with Wolnir was officially over, everyone's body had simultaneously decided that enough was enough.
"Captain…" Tami's voice carried genuine misery. "We really do want to keep exploring…"
"But none of us can actually walk."
"…Yeah."
Luluwo discovered, testing her own legs, that she couldn't stand either.
She sighed.
"Then — we go up, take one quick look, and head straight back to rest. Deal?"
Everyone agreed without hesitation. After coming this far, walking away without a single glance was simply not an option.
The problem, of course, was that nobody could stand.
Which led to a genuinely strange sight: Elsa carrying the entire team across her shoulders, one at a time and then somehow all at once, and climbing the staircase alone under the combined weight of her exhausted companions.
She really did carry all of them.
"Captain…" Tami mumbled from somewhere against her shoulder. "What do you think's up there?"
"Another graveyard, probably." Luluwo's voice was muffled but confident. "That's just Sein Dungeon's whole personality. It loves anything creepy."
"I'll bet you a gold coin."
"Even if it's not a graveyard, it'll still be dark and depressing somehow."
"Hey! I never agreed to that bet!"
Maybe it was only their imagination — but the higher they climbed, the colder the air seemed to get. At the same time, more light began filtering down toward them.
Luluwo started, quietly, to worry she might actually lose that bet.
Elsa stopped abruptly.
Everyone looked ahead.
Conversation died out on its own.
At the top of the staircase — a cave entrance. Brilliant moonlight poured through it. Snowflakes drifted gently through the opening in slow, unhurried spirals.
"…What a beautiful sky."
If the tiny sliver visible from inside the cave was already this striking, what would the full view look like?
Suddenly, strength returned to every collapsed limb at once. The whole group scrambled toward the entrance, tripping over each other in their hurry — too focused on what lay ahead to notice the message quietly forming on the ground behind them.
"Whoa…"
Tami reached the opening first.
Snow settled onto his shoulders as he stepped through, and what greeted him was the single most magnificent sight of his entire life.
Before him stood a majestic city, wrapped entirely in snow and ice.
Irithyll of the Boreal Valley.
At that exact moment, Elsa's foot passed over the message left on the ground, and it activated.
A single line of text appeared before her.
[Visions of beautiful scenery ahead.]