Dungeons aren't places suited for surface dwellers.
After all, it's a spot where monsters that crunch human bones like snacks pop out casually as you walk.
Average humans have it rough—even if you hand them weapons and keep them in peak condition, they still have to fight tough monsters while saddled with fatigue from camping, night watches, and lousy preserved rations.
Just think about how dungeons came to be in the first place, and it's obvious they're hostile environments for humanity.
So, is there truly nowhere safe inside a dungeon?
Well, not exactly.
Dungeon floor 12.
The place known as the Safety Zone.
Normally, the deeper you go, the thicker the mana concentration inside the dungeon gets. But there are zones where that mana drops off sharply, almost like it's been sucked away.
Movement becomes easier, and the monsters in those areas are dramatically weakened.
Even in dungeons overflowing with unsolved mysteries alongside the explained ones, this phenomenon remains a puzzle, with only guesses floating around.
Thanks to it, though, this is the one place in a dungeon—where endless monster hordes driven by irrational hostility would otherwise make defense losses outweigh any gains—where you can set up base camps or even villages.
Without these spots, humanity might never have challenged the deep layers below floor 45.
It's the sole respite for resupply and rest amid a dungeon brimming with murderous intent toward humans.
And the place we'd arrived at was Stelle, the fortress city on floor 12.
Three sides were sheer cliffs, while the front boasted sturdy walls and a proper moat.
Even Safety Zones weren't completely free of monster incursions.
The entrance to the city stood wide open, but look up from there, and you'd see an iron portcullis.
In a pinch, that could drop in an instant to seal the gate for a siege.
"It's always so empty no matter when you come."
As we entered the city, Miella muttered in a bored tone, sizing up the place.
For all the grand talk earlier, its scale was barely village-sized even if you were generous.
The Kaiden Party qualified as a mid-layer team, so we'd descended leisurely, but for ordinary humans, the path to floor 12 was a blood-soaked gauntlet that demanded your life.
A crawler party was, in a way, like a small strike force—and even they had pushed nonstop for three days to get here.
Regular caravans couldn't even dream of supplying this far.
Here, you had merchants handling logistics, plus parties like the Kaiden Party taking a breather before tackling mid-layers.
All told, the resident population scraped by at around 500, so calling it a "city" was a bit of a joke.
Still, the folks staying here called it a city, half in jest, half in earnest.
As Miella said, hardly anyone walked the streets. Merchants glanced our way briefly before yawning with lazy expressions.
For a spot inside a dungeon, it felt shockingly idle.
"Let's offload the materials we grabbed on the way down here."
"...Honestly, I hate how they lowball prices here."
"Still better to clear them out now. They're upper-floor drops anyway—poor efficiency per volume."
Kaiden lightly soothed the grumbling Miella, then turned to me.
"Let's catch our breath here for a bit. I'd like to sync up properly on this gateway floor before pushing to mid-layers. What do you think?"
"Sounds good, but how long were you planning?"
Newly formed parties often honed their teamwork a few floors below their target—that was standard.
"Thinking two days."
"That should work."
"Yeah. Hanging around here too long gets pricey anyway."
Unlike its peaceful vibe, lingering too long in a Safety Zone wasn't wise.
'Prices are so insane, you start wondering if your parents are still alive.'
Even basic supplies could cost twenty times more, depending.
And on top of that...
Shaaaa—!
"What?! All this for 13 silver? Don't make me laugh! Back outside, this'd fetch a gold easy! There's lowballing, and then there's robbery! Should I rip out that ridiculous beard of yours?!"
"Don't like it, don't sell. I can live without buying."
Materials scavenged in the dungeon got bought at rock-bottom rates.
Local production, maybe?
Odd, though.
Back in Korea, origin spots paid premiums.
Like king crab.
The goat-bearded fat merchant faced Miella's outburst with a face like this was routine—bored, even.
Infuriated by his nonchalance, Miella fumed but held back from anything violent.
For good reason: these merchants were fronts for big-name surface clans.
And Safety Zones were crawlers' sole lifeline—no fighting here was the unwritten rule.
"Mia."
"...Hah."
Kaiden placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her, and Miella sighed softly before agreeing to the deal.
Of course...
"Cheese for 5 silver a wheel, smoked sausage at 1 silver 20 copper? Get real, you bald bastard! Thirty times surface prices!"
"Then don't buy. And I'm not bald."
"The hell you're not! Your forehead's a mirror after a wipe!"
She blew up again right away, and Kaiden had to calm her once more.
What an energetic cat.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
After that last dungeon run, Kaiden's worries ran deep.
Someone once said it: humans grow stronger each time they overcome a wave.
Not wrong, but not always true.
Torn muscles heal tougher and stronger; shattered bones knit back denser.
But that's only with ample recovery time after the crisis.
For crawlers pushing through a dungeon, strength just steadily drains.
In that sense, the Kaiden Party's limit right now was floor 20.
After entering mid-layers, their capacity started eroding from floor 15, bottoming out at 20.
Fatigue and mounting wounds dulled body and senses.
Miella missed ambush signs.
Kaiden failed as frontline anchor.
Rask couldn't relieve rear pressure, worn down by accumulated exhaustion.
Only Laira shone amid the chaos.
And that one fight nearly killed Miella.
Kaiden, ever diligent and prepped for worst-case, had splurged on top-tier potions—without them, she might've died for real.
Miella dusted off, flashed her usual bubbly grin to reassure him, but Kaiden—the straitlaced leader—couldn't brush it off.
Can't stock endless pricey potions, and running the party like this risked actual deaths.
Dial back challenge floors to Safety Zones, grind growth for a while?
'...Rask'd get pissed.'
Lizardmen weren't orc-level, but they craved feats to catch their gods' eyes.
Sure, endless safe-floor grinding might work eventually.
But no telling when.
Belligerent Rask wouldn't like it.
Might even quit the party.
"...Damn it all."
Uncharacteristically cursing, he nursed a drink alone at a pub.
"Got some worries? Young guy's face so grim next to me, ruins the booze."
An old man spoke up.
"Hrm. Eh. Common stuff."
The elder dismissed his party woes lightly.
Kaiden snapped, yelled uncharacteristically at the old guy.
"Feel better?"
"...Sorry."
"Good kid. Earnest."
He'd probably said things unfit for an elder, but the old man acted unfazed.
"Desperate for it?"
"Huh?"
"Asking if you're desperate enough for what you described to do anything."
Kaiden nodded through the drunken haze, unable to read the old man's eyes.
"Then I'll introduce someone. How you use 'em's your call."
The nameless old man from the tavern abruptly hooked him up with one person.
Rusted Silver Arjen.
A crawler priestess of the gods, stuck with a near-derogatory moniker.
Infamously greedy, uncooperative to a fault—rumors swirled she was a fraud faking priest.
Hardly comrade material.
Still, solid rep for skill made Kaiden meet her after agonies.
His party was solid mid-tier, but no hot prospect; snagging an experienced mid-layer priest was tough.
Especially after seeing party strength crater deeper last run.
So he shelled out 13 gold.
Amount that might break even—or lose—post-run.
Temporary hire.
Mia griped; Kaiden harbored doubts too.
Could one mere support priest really change things dramatically?
And that was...
"This is..."
The gateway floors to mid-layers: floors 13 through 15, a warren of ant-tunnels swarming with killer ants, giant centipedes, and cave dwellers.
A "wall of tears" for upper-floor crawlers pre-mid-layer.
Monsters outclass humans physically; swarms are hell even for high-floor vets.
But...
"Keh."
Rask smashed a cave dweller's skull, yanked his spear free, shook it off, and surveyed the unscathed corpses littering around—not a scratch on him.
His gaze shifted past the bodies to the shady priest leisurely lighting up a mana weed cig amid it all.
"Damn impressive."
For them, it was a flawless fight.