When speaking of weapons of mass destruction, most people immediately think of nuclear bombs. "Little Boy" and "Fat Man" left a deep impression on the world, just as they left equally deep craters in Japan.
But if one defines a weapon of mass destruction as something with "large range, astonishing destructive power, and significant impact on the local ecology," then the taboos mankind has mastered go far beyond just nuclear weapons. Moreover, the threshold for acquiring them is surprisingly low.
The "Agent Orange" used by the US military during the Vietnam War was, strictly speaking, just a chemical herbicide. Yet, the damage it caused to the environment and the subsequent toxic legacy resulted in total casualties far exceeding those of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
It is just that the Vietnamese are not as skilled at playing the victim as the Japanese. Thus, while we can see Godzilla reflecting on nuclear weapons on the silver screen, we do not see a "Captain Vietnam" reflecting on chemical weapons.
This suffices to show that as long as the industrial scale reaches a certain level, even agricultural pesticides can become a grim reaper that harvests lives ruthlessly; there is no need for nuclear weapons to take the stage at all.
The Fuel-Air Explosive is one such "simple and practical" item. Its manufacturing difficulty and cost are far lower than nuclear weapons, yet in specific situations, it serves as a superior substitute.
It is not a bomb in the conventional sense, but a highly efficient "fuel." As long as one has sufficient industrial capacity, it can be mass-produced.
When activated, it undergoes two detonations. The first scatters the liquid fuel, mixing it with the air to form an aerosol state. Then, the second reaction occurs—a fuel-air detonation!
The shock effect produced by its high temperature and high pressure is far superior to other explosives, earning it the reverent title of "sub-atomic weapon."
And that is just its direct destructive power. The terrifying aspect of a Fuel-Air Explosive is that the explosion consumes all the oxygen in the air!
If used in a closed environment, the overpressure reaction will be continuously refracted and superimposed by the walls, resulting in pressure values far exceeding those in open areas.
—This is the perfect killing weapon for a Dungeon environment!
Ryu had been preparing to conquer the Dungeon for a long time. During his month in the main world, he had pondered what to store in his personal space to anchor the situation. In the end, he chose the Fuel-Air Explosive.
Although its power is not as great as a nuke, the difficulty of obtaining it is much lower...
Of course, that is just because he lacks the conditions right now.
But if the Ultraman-series worldview continues to merge, given the absurdity where even civilian scientists can create world-ending weapons (like the Zelda Gas), and relying on the positioning of the Kuse family, let alone nukes, he could probably even get his hands on "Maxima Power"!
Having placed two Fuel-Air Explosives on both the second and third floors of the Dungeon, Ryu very meticulously asked the two ladies to leave the room. He then invited all members of the squad to step out of the Lord's Hall and come to an open civic square.
Just as everyone was completely bewildered and about to ask what was going on, they saw the young man reach out and tap his "eyepatch."
"Hmm... Everyone, stand firm."
"?"
"There might be a little vibration coming up."
Ryu stared at the time ticking away in the corner of his vision and slowly raised his hand—
BOOM!!!
BOOM!!!
BOOM!!!
It was as if Thor's hammer was continuously pounding the earth. The soft soil and hard rock mixed together, rippling like the surface of a drum. Everyone's knees went weak, and they bent down in panic, spreading their arms to subconsciously find something to hold onto.
Whoosh~!
Countless birds were startled into flight. The sky above the island seemed to be shrouded by moving dark clouds. For a moment, the entire world became noisy. Laios and the others felt their teeth vibrating, and an unpleasant sensation of biting into grit filled their mouths.
"E-Earthquake?!"
"Everyone, don't panic!"
"What is happening?"
...After a long while, no subsequent tremors came. Although the birds had not yet settled, the people gradually calmed down, looking left and right at each other, no one knowing what to say.
"...Could it be that you did this, Ryu?"
Marcille was the quickest to react, speaking in disbelief, "What on earth did we send into the Dungeon?"
"Dungeon?"
The Kabru squad, who had come out with them, was attracted by this sentence. The dark-skinned young man frowned deeply: "Did you do something to the Dungeon?"
"Calm down. I didn't do much, just sent a few 'Ancient Magic Tools' inside."
Ryu waved his hand, smiling with a relaxed expression. "The power might have been a bit on the large side. Let's see if we can force the Lord of the Dungeon out."
"...A bit on the large side?"
Marcille's expression was similar to everyone else's, a look that said, 'I completely don't understand what you are saying.'
"You call this 'a bit'?!"
Everyone was shocked by Ryu's behavior, which defied common sense, but Kabru noticed another point: "You said force the Lord of the Dungeon out? What exactly are you thinking? Destroying the Dungeon so recklessly... if it collapses, the entire island will suffer a disaster!"
He was the sole survivor of a certain "Dungeon Rampage" incident. His mother and all the villagers had died in the mouths of rampaging monsters. Therefore, he had always hoped to use his own power to control the Dungeon and prevent such things from happening again.
And what Ryu was doing was precisely intentionally detonating the Dungeon. This undoubtedly ran counter to his principles!
But Ryu extinguished all his anger with a single sentence, plunging him into confusion—
"So what?"
Ryu glanced at him coldly. "Even if the monsters rush up to the surface, how many people are left on the island?"
"Ugh!"
Kabru froze, subconsciously looking left and right, suddenly remembering that this island was already "empty"!
Yes, empty!
Let alone adventurers, even the local villagers had run off to the deserted island. After all, adventurers still needed logistics and entertainment—after so many years, the island's economy and livelihood had long been bound to the adventurer community.
Now, there were probably only three or four teams left on the island, plus a few guild staff. Added together, he didn't know if there were even thirty people!
"If the Dungeon collapses and there isn't enough nutrition outside, what will happen?"
"...The Lord of the Dungeon would have to use their own power to support the monsters' consumption." Kabru realized with a start. "You want to lure the Mad Mage to the surface to kill him? That's too risky!"
"Is it?"
"That mage is quite extraordinary. I have never seen such powerful mana. He can easily change the terrain without chanting or magic circles... relying on just us people?"
"It's enough." Ryu's indifferent yet confident words abruptly choked Kabru into silence.
The dark-skinned young man had a special skill: he was good at observing humans. Like a psychologist, he could judge whether someone was lying through micro-expressions and tone... In his view, Ryu spoke not a single word of falsehood!
How can he be so certain? Is he that confident?!
—Kabru swallowed, but his heart couldn't help but leap with excitement.
So that's it... The treasure on that deserted island was probably created by this person too, all to clear the field before taking action!
He even went so far as to buy this island...
Amazing!
He possesses far more drive than I do. He really might be able to suppress the Dungeon!
Kabru's long-cherished wish was to stop the Dungeon from going out of control and prevent the tragedy of his childhood from recurring. However, his own abilities were limited, so he always suffered from finding no way to do it... Now seeing Ryu, after being shocked by the man's audacity, an impulse spontaneously arose to cooperate with him to complete this great cause!
"Rin! We're staying too!"
"...Since you say so."
The long-haired female mage in the team hesitated. "But there's no guarantee we can force the Lord of the Dungeon out, right?"
"Mmm, that is true."
Ryu listened carefully for a while, finding no commotion at the Dungeon entrance. He turned back, spreading his hands and shrugging.
"The opponent's endurance is decent... Of course, it's also possible he's cleaning up the mess and can't spare the time to retaliate for the moment."
"Then... do we wait?"
"Of course, we won't just sit and wait."
Ryu checked the time and smiled at everyone. "We'll wait another seven or eight hours. Even if the opponent doesn't come charging out, he should have roughly repaired the Dungeon by then—at that time, we'll bomb it again."
"..."
"..."
"..."
Are you a Devil?!
The endurance of the Mad Mage, "Thistle," exceeded Ryu's imagination. In the following days, Ryu persevered and ungrudgingly sent him warmth from another world. The Dungeon, which Thistle worked so hard to rebuild, would be unreasonably destroyed every so often.
Physical destruction was secondary; the ecosystem of an entire floor would completely collapse under the effect of the Fuel-Air Explosive. Since the Dungeon is a complex system that exists as a whole from top to bottom, the collapse of one floor would implicate the entire Dungeon.
So even if Marcille and Falin could only teleport to the first three floors, Thistle couldn't hide in the deepest parts to relax. He had to come out frequently to clean up the mess... and then get bombed again!
This fatigue tactic was simple yet effective. A man as ruthless as Boss Cao was driven to a nervous breakdown by Marquis Zhuge, let alone Thistle, who already suffered from mania.
But unexpectedly, he forcibly endured for three days!
It wasn't until the Fuel-Air Explosives Ryu had prepared were about to run out, and he was beginning to worry, that the Mad Mage finally couldn't take it anymore. A massive number of monsters swarmed out from the entrance!
It was also at this moment that a magnificent Elven sailing ship docked at the port, and an advance party totaling eight people stepped ashore.
They were initially puzzled by the lack of people, but then their expressions changed drastically upon hearing the sounds of monsters. Thinking they were late, they ignored any diplomatic issues and directly called out their main force, then rushed toward the source of the disturbance.
The leader was a one-eyed, melancholic, sickly gray-haired male Elf. His face, which should have been beautiful, was filled with hostility and gloom, giving off a feeling that strangers should keep away.
But he was evidently trusted by his team members, as everyone followed closely behind him—even though this guy was terrible with directions.
"Captain! Over here! The mana reaction is coming from this direction!"
"..."
Mithrun changed direction at his member's reminder, and sure enough, he soon encountered the army of monsters—
A group of Walking Mushrooms the size of houses, and giant scorpions with the body size of lions and tigers!
"This quantity... Has the Lord of the Dungeon gone mad?"
"..."
Unlike his stunned team members, Mithrun showed no emotional fluctuation in his eyes. He didn't even draw a weapon, charging straight at the ferocious giant scorpion with his bare hands.
With a nimble leap and a flip, he dodged the opponent's attack, simultaneously placing his hand on the monster's body—
Shwaz!
The giant scorpion's figure abruptly vanished, replaced by a rock of equal size!
—Transfer Magic!
Swapping the positions of two objects in space, a branch of teleportation magic!
To be able to use it as easily as Mithrun did, and without relying on any auxiliary tools... it was simply unheard of in this world.
The members of the [Canaries] each had a unique skill, but none were unconvinced by Mithrun. Seeing this scene, they were all invigorated—
"Is... it... you...?"
Just then, a voice that seemed to have crawled out from the end of hell, the bottom of the Nine Underworlds, or the abyss of Naraka made all the Elves shiver in unison.
"Hmm?"
Mithrun lifted his face. On top of a Walking Mushroom as tall as a three or four-story building, he saw an Elf with tattered clothes, messy hair, dark circles as prominent as oil paint, and burn marks all over his body.
His originally brown skin was now covered in faint scars... that was the result of repeatedly using healing magic but failing to eliminate the damage completely.
—Mithrun usually only saw such people in the gladiatorial arena.
No, compared to the torture the Elf before him had suffered, a centennial hero gladiator was nothing!
"Is it you?"
"Hmm?"
Faced with Thistle's question, the Captain was confused: "...Do we know each other?"
"It's you... Transfer Magic..."
Thistle held the golden Grimoire in one arm—he hadn't dared to let the book leave his hand these past few days, because he didn't know when he might be blown to death by a sudden thunderclap or suffocated due to lack of oxygen.
His other hand clawed viciously at his own face, scratching out terrifying bloody streaks as if venting.
"Transfer Magic! Is it you..."
"What on earth are you saying?"
"It was you bastard!!! Ahhhhhhhhahahahahahaha!!!!!"
Thistle's eyes were hollow, his expression broken: "I... am going to slaughter you!!!!"
"...?"
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