Crack! Crack!
The guard captain's whip lashed through the air, each snap driving the restless adventurers back step by step.
Once the royal decree—sealed with the king's crest—was read aloud, not a single soul dared voice defiance. Dissatisfaction churned in their hearts, but silence held their tongues.
For most, the king was the embodiment of absolute authority, while the nobility pressed down like a mountain—immovable, unshakable.
It might seem strange. In this world, people could train, grow stronger. With enough talent, one could reach heights capable of challenging an entire kingdom. So why did Royalty still inspire such fear?
Because most of the strong were bound to them.
Yes, a few rebels existed, but they were rare. And the truth was, the strongest lived in a delicate balance. They could shift rivers, topple mountains, and summon storms, yet none stood head and shoulders above the rest.
It was like a world of Jujutsu Kaisen without Sukuna or Gojo—no overwhelming outliers, only equals locked in check. One against one meant stalemate. Two against one, a likely defeat. Three against one, certain destruction. No one dared be the first to shatter that fragile equilibrium.
Even among adventurers, Gold-ranked and Legendary individuals walked the land. But for the Copper-ranked masses at the bottom? Few spared them even a passing glance.
"Damn it."
"This is too much."
"And here I thought that noble funded Gourmet Street out of goodwill…"
The adventurers fell back unwillingly, while the guards sneered and gestured lazily.
Hundreds of laborers surged forward, herded like cattle, automatically dividing into groups of ten as they were driven toward the dungeon's maw. Even if only a fraction returned alive, the harvest of resources would be worth it.
This scheme was born from Sali, the third young master. In his twisted "wisdom," human lives were worthless currency—expendable pawns to be thrown into the dungeon in exchange for profit.
And disturbingly, this aligned perfectly with Wade's ideals.
"This is disgusting," Maru spat, glaring at the guards' tyranny. "Nobles are all the same rotten scum… Boss, what do you think?"
She turned—and froze.
Leon's fists were clenched so tight his knuckles whitened. His face twisted with fury, his entire body trembling as though a single breath might push him into violence.
I want to hit him. Beat him. Beat them. Beat them all.
The violent urge rising inside startled even him. Yes, the Bedford family's cruelty deserved anger. But this… this fury felt unnatural. Why did he burn so hot?
Strange… Am I really just some hot-headed fool who can't stand injustice?
Then, Wade's words echoed in his mind:
If the king refuses to submit, then beat him. Beat him, and never stop beating him.
"Boss? Are you okay?"
Maru's worried voice snapped him back. Leon forced a strained smile. "I'm fine. Don't worry. You all wait here—I'll handle it."
He strode forward, confronting the guard captain. After a brief exchange and flashing the Adventurer's Guild's proof of authority, the captain—though clearly annoyed—reluctantly halted the workers and allowed Leon's team to enter first.
Even after descending into the dungeon's dark, foul-smelling depths, Maru kept close to Leon, worry written plain across her face. He could only sigh and chuckle helplessly.
Then a mocking voice rang out.
"Sharp eyes, quick action… but tsk, tsk. I fear the lord's efforts will end in misery this time."
The speaker was Roger, a sloppy-looking middle-aged mage from the Magic Association. His wide-brimmed hat shadowed a grin that dripped with sarcasm.
"Oh? You know something?" Melga asked lightly, curiosity flashing in her eyes. Even Stella leaned closer to listen.
Another mage, much younger—barely past graduation—elbowed Roger with an exasperated frown. "Mr. Roger, please don't spread baseless rumors. We don't even know if that matter is true. Jumping to conclusions is reckless."
Roger only shrugged, slinging an arm around Drew's shoulders. "But old Drew here saw it with his own eyes. How could it be fake? Perry, are you doubting the Association's most brilliant dwarf graduate?"
"That's only because dwarves rarely bother with magic," Perry muttered before raising his voice. "Until I see this so-called bonfire with my own eyes, I'll doubt everything. There's no way a mere dungeon hides the secret of the world's creation!"
The words dropped like stones into a still pond. Silence rippled through the group.
"W-what? Why are you all looking at me like that?" Perry stammered.
Roger snickered. "Didn't you just tell me to shut up? And now you've gone and spilled the truth yourself."
Perry's cheeks flushed scarlet.
The Holy Light Knight's scowl deepened. His face, already sour, now looked as though he bore the weight of the world's sins. With a thunderous hmph, he declared:
"To claim the world was birthed by fire… Heretical nonsense! This dungeon must be cleansed by the Holy Light! I will investigate and pass judgment in the name of God!"
The Fire priest stiffened, fury flashing in his eyes, but he bit his tongue. His church was too weak, too diminished to openly challenge the Holy Light. Still, he glared daggers at the knight, trembling with restrained rage.
Every church, after all, claimed their god created the world. Whoever held the greatest power dictated the truth.
Melga smiled faintly. She already knew of the bonfire's visions—phantoms of the world's birth projected in flame—though she'd never seen them herself. That was why she, and Stella too, had agreed to Sid's invitation to join this exploration team.
Everyone here had heard whispers of the bonfire. Everyone but one.
What are they even talking about? Stella tilted her head, utterly lost. Weren't we supposed to be looking for the Sun Altar?
Her mission was indeed the Sun Altar. But for the others, the goals ran deeper: to confirm the truth of the bonfire's visions… and perhaps even to clear the Sein Dungeon.
After Drew's death and forced escape from the dungeon, he had rushed to the Magic Association to report the bonfire. Though busy with a sudden surge of demons at the border, the Association still sent Roger and Perry to investigate. If their findings proved significant, stronger magi would follow.
Back in Bedford City, Drew then turned to Sid—the Adventurer's Guild branch president—only to find Sid already knew. In fact, Sid had suggested forming this very exploration team.
There's a traitor in the Association, Drew had thought. Then, with a shrug: Not my problem.
So he agreed.
Sid personally recruited the Holy Light Knight and the Fire Priest. Both carried weight in this matter: the knight, a zealot ready to condemn heresy; the priest, a vessel of a god perhaps tied to the bonfire itself.
Together, with their combined strength, they formed an elite raid party—one destined to stir chaos in the dungeon.
But tension festered. The knight's disdain was naked, his contempt for the Fire God written in every glance. The priest's trembling fury only fed the uneasy air.
And so, in this strained silence, the exploration team carved their way forward.
Until at last, they stood before it.
The bonfire.
Its smoldering embers pulsed in the draft, shadows dancing across the coiled sword thrust into the earth—a silent sentinel, waiting.
"Here we are again," Leon murmured, voice laced with quiet emotion.
The group gathered around. Leon struck the flame.
The bonfire blazed to life.