Walking through the Dungeon, Shirou's state of mind was completely different from that of most adventurers.
The road ahead was difficult. Brutal, even.
Yet he felt nothing special about it.
No tension.
No fear.
Only the need to keep moving forward.
Wrapped in Flame-Resistant Cloth, Shirou naturally drew attention as he passed. The surrounding adventurers, though unfamiliar with him, couldn't help but glance his way with unconcealed envy.
Flame-Resistant Cloth was, in a sense, standard equipment for mid-level explorers.
The reason was simple.
Hellhounds.
Also known as Fire-Breathing Demons, Hellhounds were monsters capable of ranged magic attacks. The flames they spat could easily incinerate adventurers who lacked proper protection.
Flame-Resistant Cloth offered strong resistance to both heat and fire, making it the most reliable counter to such threats.
As a result, there was an unspoken rule among adventurers.
Wearing Flame-Resistant Cloth meant mid-level.
Mid-level meant experienced.
Experienced meant dangerous.
Ignoring the gazes directed at him, Shirou continued moving deeper into the Dungeon.
Monsters from the upper floors no longer posed any threat to him. His target lay further below.
The middle floors.
More specifically, the Seventeenth Floor.
The territory of a Floor Boss.
Of course, Shirou had no intention of challenging it.
The Seventeenth Floor Boss was Goliath, a monster rated at Level 4 combat power. For a Level 1 adventurer like him, defeating Goliath was nothing short of a delusion.
The gap was absolute.
So instead, he chose a different goal.
He would follow a simplified version of the path once taken by Ottar during his legendary solo expedition.
Of course, Ottar's expedition involved descending to the Fifty-Ninth Floor, confronting a Level 7 Floor Boss, beating it half to death, and returning alone.
That was true strength.
Shirou had no such ambition.
For him, simply reaching the Seventeenth Floor and then fighting his way back up was enough.
Even calling this an "expedition" felt exaggerated.
After a moment's thought, he gave it a more appropriate name.
A Small Expedition.
Standing before the passage leading from the Twelfth Floor to the Thirteenth Floor, Shirou tightened the straps of his backpack.
This time, it was completely filled with supplies.
There was no room for magic stones.
This operation was purely for combat.
He adjusted the headband on his head.
"Now," he murmured, "my adventure begins."
With that, he stepped into the dim passage ahead.
Gray rocks were scattered everywhere.
The walls, floor, and ceiling were all bare bedrock, and the air carried a faint dampness.
At a glance, the environment resembled a natural cave carved into a mountainside.
It reminded him of Mount Enzou.
The battlefield where he once fought.
But Shirou didn't linger on the thought.
He didn't have time.
At this moment, he was already running.
And fighting.
With a swift slash, he cut the Uni-rabbit in front of him cleanly in half, then immediately turned, deflecting a stone axe hurled from the side.
These monsters were unique to the middle floors.
Uni-rabbits.
Among Level 2 monsters, they weren't particularly powerful.
But they were dangerous.
Their ability to throw stone axes meant a single mistake could prove fatal.
And this labyrinth was their armory.
Rocks scattered across the ground could instantly become razor-sharp weapons in their hands, raining down without warning.
Even worse was their number.
There were simply too many.
From the middle floors onward, both the refresh rate and quantity of monsters far exceeded those of the upper floors.
They would appear endlessly.
Drain stamina.
Wait for openings.
And then strike.
This was the Dungeon as a living entity.
Because of that, Shirou could not allow himself to be surrounded.
He had to keep moving.
Always deeper.
This expedition was where he would truly release his capabilities.
Having already memorized the routes of the middle floors, Shirou never paused.
He ran.
He fought.
Everything that stood in his way fell.
"Howl-!"
The sound came late.
Shirou noticed them before he heard them.
Three wolf-like monsters, each about the size of a calf.
Hellhounds.
They didn't charge.
Instead, they lowered their upper bodies and raised their lower ones, flames gathering in their mouths.
Sparks spilled from between their fangs, ready to erupt.
"Too slow."
His twin swords had already shifted form, transforming into a black longbow.
Three arrows were nocked in an instant.
Twang.
The bowstring snapped sharply, the sound echoing through the passage.
The arrows struck true.
Before the flames could be released, the Hellhounds were pierced directly through the head.
The fire they had gathered detonated inside them, consuming their bodies from within.
They vanished without a trace.
Shirou didn't stop.
He swung the longbow, smashing aside a Uni-rabbit that leapt from the side.
There were too many monsters to linger.
The longbow remained on his back as twin swords reappeared in his hands.
He didn't dispel it.
Not out of carelessness.
But because bows would be indispensable in the battles ahead.
Under the influence of the Divine Blessing, his Projection Magic had been fundamentally strengthened.
Before, projecting sword-type weapons consumed standard magical energy. Non-sword weapons consumed double. Defensive equipment consumed even more.
Now, all weapons consumed standard energy.
Sword-type weapons consumed only half.
Defensive gear still consumed double.
The result was clear.
His endurance had increased dramatically.
"Don't block my way."
Facing the continuous stream of monsters flooding the passage ahead, Shirou's magical energy surged through his body.
"Projection, begin!"
At his command, over a dozen sword-armaments appeared at once.
They fired forward in a violent storm.
Driven by magic and their inherent sharpness, each blade pierced through multiple monsters, instantly clearing the path.
The sheer scale of projected weapons marked the battle's escalation.
Shirou continued running.
And continued fighting.
Wave after wave of monsters fell.
Sometimes by sword.
Sometimes by arrow.
Sometimes by projected blades fired like ammunition.
Every method was used.
Even so, he wasn't unscathed.
The attacks were too dense.
There were always some he couldn't stop.
Stone axes.
Flame breath.
Spinning charges from Hard-Armored Rats.
Some strikes slipped through.
Injuries accumulated.
But none of it slowed him down.
Before long, guided by familiar landmarks, Shirou reached the passage leading from the Thirteenth Floor to the Fourteenth.
And there, waiting for him, was a massive horde of monsters.
"So this is your welcome gift?" he said calmly. "You're being generous."
He pulled the longbow from his back.
His right hand began to glow.
"Projection, begin."
A strange longsword appeared.
Neither single-edged nor double-edged.
Its blade twisted into a helical structure, built purely for thrusting.
"False - Caladbolg."
He nocked the sword-armament onto the bowstring.
Magical energy surged.
The blade reshaped itself, compressing and transforming into a silver-glowing arrow.
For the first time in a while, Shirou stopped moving.
He drew the bowstring fully.
"Broken Phantasm."
The arrow flashed red.
Then it vanished.
Boom!!!
A violent explosion tore through the monster horde, swallowing everything at its center.
The blast created a raging whirlwind that swept through the surroundings, flinging monsters outside the explosion's range into the depths below.
When the smoke cleared, flames still burned fiercely.
The chamber was empty.
Only magic stones remained.
Shirou walked through without looking down.
And stepped into the passage leading to the Fourteenth Floor.
--------More Bonus Chapters!!!!
Every 300 power stones = 1 Bonus Chapter