After that, I kept eating while learning more about the Food King Tournament. That's when I realized I'd misunderstood the arena I saw earlier—the tournament was actually held there. It really was a peaceful country.
Back to the tournament itself.
First, the schedule was fixed regardless of the theme: from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. A long stretch.
The general insisted everything be made on-site, and the use of storage magic during the competition was strictly forbidden. Anyone caught using it would be disqualified immediately.
That said, once you submitted your finished product, you were free to rest. When the time was up, all participants had to return to hear the results from the five judges.
But in the end, the most important judge was the notoriously picky general. If he wasn't satisfied, it didn't matter if the other four were. That's why having more than six truly outstanding dishes in a year was considered incredibly rare.
Next, the venue provided basic equipment—sinks, stoves, refrigerators, and so on. Contestants could also bring their own professional tools, along with ingredients and seasonings. However, foreigners had to pass an inspection.
It might seem unfair, but considering we weren't locals and could have ulterior motives, it was understandable.
Finally, the judges. There were five in total—two permanent judges and three randomly invited nobles. The permanent ones were the general and the Queen of Dilibrash.
That was about it—nothing particularly strange.
After I finishing understanding everything, I told them I might take a few extra days before leaving the dungeon, then ended the call.
The next morning, after breakfast, Grace and I continued onward. Along the way, I gathered materials I might need, explained anything interesting we came across, and decided to extend our target to level 40.
By 3:17 p.m., we reached level 61—a frozen tundra. I sheathed my beloved sword and handed it to Grace.
"Grace, put your sword away. Use mine."
"Why?"
She looked puzzled but still sheathed her weapon. I explained:
"From this level on, the animals' hides are tougher than your sword. A normal blade will just break. If you want to use magic, that works too—five years of power is enough."
Grace only knew ancient magic. To reach level 91, fifty years' worth of power would be sufficient.
"I want to use a sword."
Without hesitation, she took mine. As expected, she didn't want to rely on magic. Why were all the swordsmen I met so resistant to learning it?
At 4:48 p.m., we arrived at the entrance to level 81. Before entering, I asked her an important question.
"Grace, are you confident fighting multiple enemies at once?"
"...Uh, how many?"
She didn't answer directly—meaning she was confident up to a certain number.
"More than ten."
"No way! That's impossible! That's too many!"
She immediately denied it, shocked.
I hadn't expected her to say yes anyway.
Even a swordsmaster handling five ordinary swordsman at once was impressive—five blades coming from five directions required immense focus and stamina.
And beasts were even stronger than humans. Even if you couldn't be killed outright, you could be worn down—unless you had extraordinary physical ability, reaction speed, and a powerful weapon.
Like me.
"Mr. Karen… does that mean we'll be facing more than ten at once?"
"Yeah. At least ten, sometimes over fifty. And they're organized—different species working together."
"Th-that's ridiculous!?"
She was stunned by the number, though encounters with fifty or more were rare. I'd only seen it a few times myself.
The scariest part was the coordination between species.
I glanced at the magic core embedded in my sword's hilt, remembering the first time I entered level 81—when I encountered that talking black ape leader.
"That means there's a very intelligent leader among them. But the next section is mountainous terrain. It'll drain your stamina. If you insist on using a sword, you should reconsider—you'll collapse from exhaustion."
"...Then I'll use magic."
She handed my sword back, though her tone sounded both reluctant and slightly disdainful.
Did magic offend her or something?
At 7:39 p.m., we reached level 88—the rest floor: a mountain range of hot springs under a starry sky.
It had taken us over two and a half hours to climb just eight levels—not because of monsters, but because the environment itself was dangerous. One wrong step and it was over.
The last time I was in Butnashso's dungeon, I used enhancement magic to rush through. But this time, with Grace, I couldn't.
I'd never considered teaching them enhancement magic. It was a double-edged sword—anyone without healing magic should never use it.
I set up the travel house near a hot spring, and we went inside for dinner. Afterward, I suggested Grace try soaking in the hot spring while watching the stars. She eagerly agreed.
Once I finished cleaning up, I went to another spring farther away.
It felt amazing.
Looking up, I saw the star-filled sky. Even though this level was permanently set at night, there was no need for lights—the ground was lined with glowing stones that connected all the hot springs.
After my soak, I returned to the house. Passing through the living room, I saw Grace talking on her phone, excitedly describing what she'd seen in the dungeon.
I went to the washroom, tossed both our clothes into the washing machine, then sat in the living room, contemplating life.
"Miss Alice, where did you go today?"
So it was Alice. I'd thought it was Jacob, but that made sense. Even if Alice sometimes caused her trouble, the two of them were close.
"An opera? I'm so jealous… No, no, I'm not jealous! I'm really happy to be in the dungeon with Mr. Karen, haha…"
She started sounding envious, then quickly changed her tone.
Because I was staring at her.
That last part was clearly meant for me.
Honestly… did I look like I had nothing better to do than drag her into the dungeon?
Whatever. I was care about something that trivial.
"...Ms. Alice, let's talk later. Good night!"
Grace suddenly sped up and ended the call.
Then she looked at me nervously.
"Mr. Karen, I didn't mean it like that. Please don't misunderstand…"
She thought I was angry.
I was a little annoyed—but not that petty.
"There's nothing to be jealous of. Tomorrow, you'll see something far more amazing."
You could visit an opera anytime.
But the deepest level of a dungeon? That was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
"What is it?"
"You'll find out tomorrow. I promise you won't regret it. And you don't need to wear armor anymore—there are no animals in the remaining levels."
That didn't mean it was safe, though.
"No danger?"
"There is. Watch your footing—and your surroundings."
"Is it that dangerous?"
"Yeah. Level 89 is a rocky mountain range with towering pillars. Imagine standing on top of a skyscraper, and the entrance is on another one."
"...People with earth magic can just make bridges."
She sounded slightly irritated.
"That's one way to do it. But if you're brave enough, you could try using wind magic as propulsion to fly across."
"No! Absolutely not! I don't have that kind of courage! Please continue!"
She immediately refused, raising her voice.
Good. That was just a joke anyway. It was basically gambling with your life—I'd never recommend it.
Lina once tried to ride her staff like a witch and fly across. I had to stop her immediately.
"Level 90 is a collapsing mountain range. Landslides happen randomly every few minutes. You'll never know which mountain will collapse next, so you need to move fast."
"Understood."
I finished explaining and let out a yawn.
Grace stared at me for a moment before asking:
"Mr. Karen… is that it? What about after level 90?"
"That's it. From Level 91 to 100, there's zero danger. It's completely safe—you can relax however you want."
"What's the theme?"
"A city."
"A city? Like the ones we live in?"
"Not exactly… You'll see tomorrow. Get some rest—we're leaving at six."
"...Yes."
I almost explained further, but stopped myself.
If I said too much now, it would ruin the surprise.
My sudden change made Grace hesitate, clearly confused but not daring to press further. She simply nodded and returned to her room to sleep.