Dungeon, Floor 12.
With Aura's preemptive wide-area annihilation magic already in play, the wave of ordinary monsters that spawned afterward didn't even cause a ripple before Leon's team wiped them out.
Put simply: Aura had already set the stage. The monsters hit the ground already locked down by vines, and what greeted them was a carpet bombing of Fireballs and a storm of blades. What kind of resistance were they supposed to mount?
If the read had been wrong and Aura had missed her window, those monsters might have been a genuine problem. But there was no "might have been," so the spoils belonged to Leon's team alone.
His boot left a scorched print on the ground as he surveyed the wrecked "meadow" with a satisfied grin.
"As expected of the esteemed veteran Adventurer Leon, seeing through the Dungeon's tricks before they even happen." Jeanne's tone was light and teasing as the team regrouped after the fight.
Leon was only half listening. His eyes were locked on the dragon's corpse, practically glowing with anticipation as he readied his knife for the real work: carving it up and collecting the loot.
"Can't help it. I've been through this too many times. In that kind of situation, I could tell with my eyes closed what the Dungeon was going to pull."
He gave the knife a flashy twirl as he spoke, preparing to get started on the butchering.
But first, there was a ritual to observe. He dropped to his knees with a thud, pressed his palms together, and looked skyward with the most devout expression he could muster.
"O beautiful goddesses above, bless me with a rare Drop Item and a Drop Treasure Chest!!!!!!"
The girls took one look at him kneeling there with that perfectly earnest face and lost it, laughter bursting out of all of them. Jeanne and Rose swung between exasperation and amusement, calling him a heretic between giggles.
They knew exactly what kind of person Leon was when it came to the gods. When he needed something: "O great and glorious goddess." When he didn't? Sorry, who are you again?
That was his relationship with divinity in a nutshell. Zero reverence. He treated gods like customer service. To Jeanne and Rose, both genuine believers, the man was a textbook heretic.
But he was family, so what could they do? Look the other way and let it go.
...
After a lot of grunting and effort, the team finished breaking down the Infant Dragon's massive corpse.
Leon cradled a Magic Stone the size of a cigarette pack, grinning so wide his face might split. The weight alone told him they were looking at serious money.
Even better, whether or not some goddess had actually heard his "prayer," the Infant Dragon had dropped the goods. The real goods.
"Ha ha ha ha ha ha!"
Leon sat on top of the gleaming Drop Treasure Chest, scales and claws in hand, head tilted back, cackling.
The girls exchanged glances.
"Is he... okay?" Laurier whispered to Jeanne, her expression somewhere between confused and concerned.
Jeanne and Rose shared a weary look.
"Hey, Leon? Could you... act normal?" Jeanne said.
The laughter cut off. "..."
His eyes found Laurier and Aura's bewildered faces, and his mouth twitched hard.
Crap. Just showed my ugly side in front of the juniors.
"Ahem!" He straightened up, face instantly serious, and pivoted to a lecturing tone aimed at the two elves. "Aura! Laurier! These materials are the lifeblood of our Familia's finances! I need you both to appreciate their importance. Understood?"
"..."
Two pairs of blank, innocent eyes stared back at him. Leon deflated.
They don't get it at all.
He couldn't wrap his head around it. These elves from prestigious magical lineages, did they have no sense for money whatsoever? How could they be this indifferent to a pile of gold?
Or is Royman at the Guild a fake elf?
The answer, he realized, came down to racial differences in worldview. Elves lived deep in their forests, self-sufficient in every way. As a long-lived race blessed with natural magical talent, even the most ordinary trinket from their homeland could fetch a fortune on the outside market. Old household items that elves considered junk regularly ended up as high-priced antiques collectors fought over.
With that kind of background, their indifference to mundane currency made perfect sense.
Once he figured that out, Leon sighed inwardly, and some of the joy of a good haul faded.
He turned each piece of loot over in his hands, appraising as he went.
"Hard Armored fur, 100,000 Valis. Imp fangs, 50,000 Valis. Bat wing set, 70,000 Valis."
"Infant Dragon's Reverse Scale. The rarest and most valuable Drop Item from this species. Market price starts at 1,000,000 Valis, and because they're so scarce, you almost never see them for sale. Effectively priceless."
"Infant Dragon claws. The most common drop from an Infant Dragon. Market price fluctuates around 400,000 Valis. Not as valuable as the Reverse Scale, but still worth a fortune."
"Add in the rest of our loot and Magic Stones, and our total haul comes to roughly 1,920,000 Valis." He paused, and something flickered behind his eyes as he remembered the dragon's odd resilience. "Assuming nothing unexpected comes up."
The number startled Jeanne and Rose. They hadn't imagined the materials would be worth this much.
"So this trip's already been a huge success. A Level 2 rare spawn really is something else. A few casual drops from one of those is worth months of grinding for a Level 1 party," Jeanne said.
Leon shook his head. "Not necessarily. If you're only counting the Magic Stone baseline, sure. But real earnings include Drop Items too. Even on the first five floors, random drops from weak monsters can be worth a thousand or two Valis, enough to keep a newbie busy for a couple of days. And that's solo, let alone a full party."
Jeanne thought it over and nodded.
But then the obvious question followed: if they were pulling this kind of income at Level 1, what did Level 2 Adventurers earn?
Level 2 was a different world entirely, separated from Level 1 by a gulf that couldn't be overstated.
The titles alone made it clear. Level 1 Adventurers were classified as Lower-Class. From Level 2 onward, you entered Upper-Class territory.
A single casual run through the Middle Floors could net a Level 2 Adventurer several hundred thousand Valis. Factor in valuable Drop Items, and breaking a million wasn't hard at all.
Of course, high income came with high expenses. Level 2 Adventurers typically used Third-Tier Equipment, and at that grade, a single weapon or armor set started at a million Valis. Prices that Lower-Class Adventurers could only dream about.
That one detail told you everything about the gap between the two tiers.
...
After giving the team a quick crash course on Adventurer economics, Leon packed up the loot, reorganized their gear, and they set out again.
Floor 12 was vast on a scale the previous floors couldn't touch. Leon's team spent the entire afternoon winding through corridors and chambers, and managed to clear only three rooms.
If they'd wanted to push straight to the Middle Floors, the main route would have gotten them there quickly enough. But after the Infant Dragon fight, they decided to spend more time on Floor 12 first before committing to Floor 13.
The team still had two complete rookies in its ranks, and Leon, as party leader, wasn't about to rush things.
"Oh, that reminds me, Leon." Rose sidled up to him with a sweet smile as they walked. He had his staff clipped to the side of his pack and was scribbling notes in a small journal with a quill. "The Infant Dragon showing up made me forget to ask. Those Bacon Potato Rolls weren't just delicious enough to cause hallucinations, were they? There's more to them than that, right?"
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