They weren't far from the floor's passageway.
Moving in a steady rhythm, Jeanne led the way while Lucas followed close behind, their boots echoing through the winding tunnels. The faint glow of moss mixed with the phosphorescence above, washing the stone walls in an eerie, green-blue shimmer that pushed back the darkness—barely.
The soft click of Jeanne's short silver boots was the only sound for a while. Her silver gauntlet gripped the flag spear tightly as her violet eyes swept across every shadow, every crevice—ever watchful, ever alert.
Lucas trailed her at a safe distance, the supporter's pack heavy on his back. His left hand swung his staff naturally with each step, the crystal head still wrapped and sealed, while his right hand hung loose at his side—fingers faintly sparking as he kept Magic charged and ready. If anything jumped them, he'd be casting Scorch before it even blinked.
The Dungeon was quiet. Too quiet.
Only distant roars and the faint echoes of battle reminded them that this place was very much alive—and always dangerous.
"The Dungeon really does feel alive," Jeanne murmured without turning around. "It's terrifying."
"You sensed something?" Lucas asked quietly, remembering her Revelation.
She nodded slightly, eyes scanning the tunnel walls. "Since we entered, the Falna on my back has been… warm. Like I'm sitting in a hot spring. I think it's because my Skill, Revelation, has been active the whole time."
Her tone darkened. "There's this constant pressure—like something lurking just beyond reach. A faint, ever-present sense of danger. I couldn't tell what it was before, but when that Irregular hit us back on the seventh floor… it finally made sense."
She took a slow breath. "It's not directed at us personally. It's coming from the Dungeon itself."
"Equal-opportunity malice, huh?" Lucas said dryly. "Nice to know the Dungeon doesn't play favorites."
"Scorch!"
BOOM!
The Purple Moth exploded midair, leaving behind a puff of violet dust—and Lucas coughing, his movements sluggish.
"D-dammit… should've seen that coming…" he slurred, fumbling for an antidote and gulping it down. His voice wobbled as the paralysis numbed his tongue. "G-great… guess you can dodge a thousand hits, but it only takes one to—urk—get stung."
"Life's full of surprises," Jeanne said matter-of-factly, looking completely unaffected.
Lucas glared at her through the haze. "You're not even poisoned."
"Of course not," she said, expression calm. "Ruler."
Her Skill glowed faintly as she spoke—
Major boost to all forms of magic resistance (raises Strength when triggered).
Major boost to resistance against debuffs and toxins (raises Endurance).
Automatically weakens enemies marked as hostile.
Stack that with Holy Maiden, and Jeanne might as well have been immune to everything short of divine wrath.
Lucas had Magic Guard, Magic Blessing, sure—but even with that protection, the venom had slipped through. Better safe than sorry. He wasn't about to take chances when an antidote could fix it.
When it came to raw resistances, Jeanne left him in the dust. Her base durability and hidden growth rate were frankly ridiculous.
Aside from a few skirmishes and close calls, the rest of the trip went smoothly.
They reached the next floor's passage without incident—and this time, they didn't stop.
Dungeon, Ninth Floor.
It looked similar to the upper layers of the Cave Labyrinth, but the atmosphere was… heavier. The air darker, thicker. The phosphorescent light dimmed to a sickly hue, and the oppressive silence pressed against their nerves.
According to the Manual, floors six through nine expanded gradually in size, complexity, and danger. Each one stretched farther than the last, like the Dungeon was testing how far you'd go before breaking.
Their field notes backed that up:
Caverns were larger and more open.
Tunnels connecting them were shorter.
Ceiling height had jumped to nearly ten meters.
Moss now covered the walls and even sprouted into short, grassy patches on the ground.
The soft glow from the ceiling created the illusion of sunlight, giving the eerie sense of walking across a fake meadow underground.
The extra space meant more room to maneuver—and, ironically, more confidence for those foolish enough to think it made things "safer." Veteran adventurers often said the eighth and ninth floors were deceptively easy.
For now, Lucas and Jeanne agreed to skip the side tunnels and irregular routes. Time was ticking, and their goal was clear: reach the tenth floor by day's end.
He double-checked the data against his notes. "Matches the manual. No new monster types—just stronger variants of Goblins, Needle Rabbits, and Killer Ants. Same patterns, higher stats. As long as we don't underestimate them, we stick to the plan."
He flipped a page, scanning further. "Overall difficulty's within the standard range. Spawn rate's higher, rare spawns slightly more frequent, but nothing unusual beyond that."
Jeanne agreed with the first part. The rest she ignored—rare spawns? Yeah, right.
"Scorch!"
Another fireburst, another dead Goblin.
Lucas's smirk was audible. "Yep. Stronger monsters, sure—but still nothing that can survive my Scorch combo."
Between his staff's amplification and the Skill's passive boost, the overkill was becoming ridiculous.
"Pathetic," he said smugly, watching the flames die out.
Jeanne frowned at the smoldering corpse. "No. They're lasting a bit longer. It's subtle, but I can feel it."
He twitched. "...That's your Revelation, not 'intuition.'"
Still, he didn't argue. Because she was probably right.
Following the map's guidance, they made it to the tenth-floor staircase before long.
Lucas's tone grew grim. "From here on out, the Dungeon shows its fangs. Floor nine to ten is the turning point."
"The layout's the same—still part of the Cave Labyrinth—but the light fades fast. Starting here, we deal not only with monsters, but with traps."
He flipped open his Adventurer's Handbook and pointed to a heavily underlined paragraph.
"See this? Starting from floor ten, visibility drops. Fog, frost, and other vision hazards appear. Makes detection and scouting harder. Ambushes hit faster, reaction time drops—so we need to stay on edge, always."
He turned the page again, tapping a section labeled Irregulars.
"And this is the big one. From floor ten onward, Monster Rex events become common. Unlike that one we ran into on seven, these aren't flukes—they're part of the Dungeon's normal behavior here. Every seasoned adventurer's faced one eventually. And when it happens…" He met Jeanne's eyes. "We run. Tactical retreat over heroics, got it?"
At the entrance to the tenth floor, the two of them stood side by side—one holding the Adventurer's Handbook, the other a detailed map, both whispering final adjustments to their plan.
Ahead of them, the tunnel opened into a sea of dense white fog, rolling and endless, swallowing the light whole.
The next stage of the Dungeon awaited.