On the fourteenth floor of the Dungeon, inside one of the Dark Faction's hideouts, the rats who had just finished their work were celebrating.
According to intelligence passed down from the Guild side, the Ganesa Familia had pulled their forces back and was preparing to fight defensively.
A rational, effective decision—one that, of course, earned them no praise from their enemies.
When the Dark Faction members heard the news, they all reacted the same way:
Victory.
"Hahahaha! So much for 'heroes' and 'the Elephant God's staff'—that's all they've got!"
"At least they know their place. No matter how many they send, they'll never find our base!"
"As long as the Dark Faction unites, we're unbeatable!"
The filthy rats crowed and cheered. And they had every reason to be happy.
This wasn't some self-hypnosis about "winning." This was real progress on the battlefield.
Compared to the days of hiding and trembling in the shadows, their current life felt like a dream.
It had been a long time since they'd managed to make Orario's "justice" factions back off. The old-timers—those who had lived through the era when two great familias ruled—were especially moved.
Their whole lives, they'd walked on thin ice.
And now, at last, they had reached the far shore.
And what awaited them next was even more victory. The future was bright—no, wait. The future was dark.
"Even if he's a 'strong one,' he still won't be a match for those two!"
"And now we can move supplies along the normal Dungeon routes without worrying about getting caught by those bastards!"
"The Dark Faction will rule Orario—today, today!"
In the middle of their warm, festive scene, Cid stormed in—buzzing with excitement.
"Aha—! You lot! If you want to live, hand over everything you've been carrying!"
As a power lurking in the shadows, he naturally wouldn't bother with an ambush.
With the level these people were at, if he sneak-attacked, they'd all die instantly—and then he wouldn't be able to test his upgraded slime gear.
And when it came to robbing people, Cid didn't care about maintaining a dignified image.
Why waste politeness on the dead?
Still, he laughed while speaking—laughing so wildly that his voice sounded darker than the Dark Faction themselves.
Even the "authentic" criminals exchanged glances, suspecting they'd just met a colleague.
Finally, their leader stepped forward.
It was Brandon.
"Kid, are you robbing the wrong people? Which Dark Faction group are you with?"
He didn't doubt Cid's identity at all. He simply assumed Cid was one of them.
That hidden face. That deranged laugh. That brazen attitude in the Dungeon.
If this wasn't one of their own, he'd eat his fist.
And it made sense they'd been targeted. They'd recently received word that their enemies had completely given up searching the Dungeon, so they'd switched their delivery routes.
If you didn't know that, mistaking the situation was understandable.
"The Dark Faction? How rude."
Cid didn't bother explaining further. He drew a sword shaped from slime.
"My name is Shadow—one who lurks within shadow, and hunts shadow."
"Shadow? So you're that mad dog that keeps biting at us? Heh. Your luck is terrible."
Brandon cracked his knuckles and advanced with a feral grin.
"Today, I'm the one leading this run—Blood Fist Brandon."
He truly believed he had every reason to be proud.
In Orario, anyone above Level 1 was called an "upper-tier adventurer."
Even the name made it clear: Level 1 and Level 2 were entirely different worlds.
And among upper-tier adventurers, Level 2 were third-tier, Level 3 and Level 4 were second-tier, and Level 5 and above were first-tier.
As a Level 3, Brandon was a core fighter even within the Dark Faction.
In a smaller group, he'd be more than qualified to serve as captain.
Confident to the bone, he even took his time sizing Cid up.
"Brat, you think taking out a few of our outposts makes you invincible?"
Brandon didn't plan to kill him.
He wanted to crush Cid's confidence first.
From Cid's build and voice, he was clearly young.
Considering his past results, Brandon judged him to be around Level 2.
That level at that age? Impressive talent.
And as for the fact that the kid seemed to hate the Dark Faction—no problem.
Whether or not he joined wasn't the kid's choice to make.
After Brandon gave him the worst day of his life and forced him to offer proof of loyalty, he'd learn the truth:
Only darkness could embrace everything.
The world would belong to darkness in the end.
"You talk too much."
Cid casually fed magic into the blade, extending it.
One swing.
Brandon's head left his shoulders.
The final thing Brandon gave to the world was a frozen, stiff grin.
At the very last moment, he realized he'd smashed into iron.
Cid blinked, genuinely surprised.
"Did you see that? Even though my body didn't fully keep up… you're a little stronger than my sister was two years ago."
He had only swung once—carelessly.
Yet with his speed and power, even Alise as she was now wouldn't be able to dodge or endure that strike.
At best, she might survive by sacrificing an arm.
This guy in front of him was stronger than Alise had been two years ago—and she had already been Level 3 back then.
So, in other words…
Cid had just instantly deleted a grunt who actually had some teeth.
Cid had robbed people before.
Not once. Not twice. Not three, four, five, or six times either…
But in the past, the strongest he'd run into had only been around Level 2.
So why were Level 3 adventurers delivering supplies now?
Were they transporting something truly valuable?
The moment that thought hit him, Cid's eyes lit up.
On the other side, the instant they saw Brandon get killed, the rest turned and ran.
Lovers in a crisis? No such thing.
When disaster struck, everyone flew off on their own.
Some bolted at full speed. Some shoved their companions to the ground. Some stood there, stunned, muttering to themselves.
"You've got to be kidding… a Level 3 couldn't even take one hit?"
Cid watched in disbelief.
Not a single one of them stepped up to fight.
Just because their Level 3 leader got one-shot, they'd lost every shred of courage and reason.
Pathetic.
"You really think you can escape?"
The sword in Cid's hand softened back into slime, then snapped forward like a long whip toward the fleeing enemies.
In three seconds, heads rolled.
In the end, only one person remained—because he had been the closest to Cid.
Cid looked him over.
"I'll give you a chance. You're the second-strongest among them, right? Thirty seconds. If you can hurt me even once, I'll let you go."
He still wanted to test the defensive performance of this new set of gear.
"Thirty seconds…?"
Colton desperately wanted to say Cid was looking down on him.
But his captain hadn't even lasted a single exchange.
"Relax," Cid said. "For these thirty seconds, I won't dodge. I won't counterattack."
He pulled the slime blade back and clasped his hands behind his back.
"Don't underestimate me!"
Colton drew his sword and slashed diagonally—so fast the blade left almost no visible trail.
It was the culmination of everything he had.
Once, he had been a fully licensed master of a prestigious sword style, and that skill had made him a central pillar of his familia.
Then, because of a vile obsession and the crimes it drove him to commit, he'd fallen into the Dark Faction.
He had gotten away with everything until now because his sword had always carried him.
Facing that slash, Cid didn't dodge. He didn't strike back.
He simply waited—calmly—while the blade fell upon him.
HP reduced by 0.
Colton couldn't pierce the slime defense.
"H-How is that possible?!"
Colton didn't even have time to process the shock before he began swinging again and again.
If he couldn't kill the enemy in front of him, his life would be over in thirty seconds.
No—less than that now.
No time to conserve stamina.
No time to count.
No time even to breathe.
Under the crushing weight of imminent death, his swordplay sharpened—almost breaking through its limits.
But he couldn't feel joy.
Only deeper terror.
His eyes insisted every slash landed.
But the sensation was wrong.
It wasn't the feeling of flesh giving way.
And the figure before him—Cid—remained completely unscathed.
"What a shame."
Cid drew his blade and took Colton's head clean off.
"Time's up," he said lightly.
"You failed."
-------
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