The 30th Floor wasn't just an increase in difficulty—it had entered a whole different world.
The moment I stepped past the floor's gate, the air grew heavier, as if the stone walls were holding back an invisible pressure. The Qi inside my body tightened as well, as though giving me a warning.
Now I was standing inside a dark stone throne room. Green torches burned along the walls, casting jagged shadows that danced around.
And at the end of that room…
A Kobold sat atop a rough stone throne, wearing a stitched leather mantle—well-stitched enough for a kobold, at least. Its body was slightly larger than a normal kobold, its golden-yellow eyes clear with a sharp intelligence that was clearly not normal for a monster that usually only knew how to growl.
To its left and right, lines of kobold soldiers and warriors stood at attention. Many of them wore mixed leather–metal armor, and their auras… yeah, these were truly mid-boss level.
But the most surprising thing of all was when the king opened his mouth.
"Welcome, Challenger."
He didn't growl. Didn't howl. Didn't screech like most kobolds.
He spoke.
With proper articulation.
I raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised—even after seeing plenty of strange things in this world.
"You knew I would come?" My own voice sounded calmer than I felt.
The kobold king tapped his bone staff against the floor, creating a deep echo.
"You slaughtered my children from floor 21 to 29. Of course I knew. And I… respect you."
Ah. So that's how it is.
High intelligence, clear hierarchy, the ability to speak, and… ego. This wasn't an ordinary kobold. It was more like an evolved form—a Hobgoblin Lord variant, but for the kobold race.
I took a long breath, circulating Qi from my dantian lake throughout my meridians. Internal Strength aura filled my body, steadying and solidifying me.
"In that case," I said as I stepped forward, "I shouldn't underestimate you."
The throne rumbled softly as the kobold king rose.
His entire force tensed at once.
"Good. Prove that the blood of our children was not spilled in vain."
And at that moment—
Their auras flared like blazing green fire.
The battle of Floor 30 began.
I moved first.
The slime-sword in my hand hummed, its body vibrating in response to my Qi. Dark red color crawled up the blade, shining like boiling, living blood.
The elite kobold squad greeted me with growls and synchronized steps. They moved fast, disciplined, and with almost no gaps—at least to ordinary people.
To me, their movements were slow.
I leaped low, slipping through the opening between two spears, twisting my wrist.
Slash.
The first kobold's head spun halfway before dropping. I shifted my foot—just an inch—to avoid an axe coming from the right, then cut through the attacker's waist as easily as slicing rope.
Qi kept flowing, getting hotter.
My body moved with the Heavenly Demon cycle…
Spiral motions, rapid thrusts, sharp turns.
Simple basic techniques, but with the intensity of the Heavenly Demon, every motion became lethal.
'One. Two. Three. Keep coming. Good.'
I weaved—dodging.
Parried—then cut.
Broke through formation—then stabbed through gaps in their leather armor.
A spear shot at me like a flash of death. I caught its shaft with my bare hand, feeling the rust and the gritty vibration of metal desperate to pierce my skin.
"Damn," I muttered, "you should've stabbed harder."
I twisted, pulling the spear's momentum, then slammed my knee into the kobold's chest.
Its ribs shattered like dry twigs.
Tak.
I didn't give them a chance. Not to them. Not to myself, who had been at the brink ever since three floors ago.
Flames from the Ifrit ring burst instantly—creeping up my arm, embracing the air, then exploding.
The blast struck the center of their formation, turning the kobold generals into complete chaos. Screeches, the hiss of burning flesh, and collapsing stone blended into one, like a death orchestra playing too close to my ear.
I jumped upward, letting gravity drag me down as I spun the slime-sword. It shone in dark red, like a hungry demon's eye.
Slip into the formation gap, vanish before they know where I am.
Heavenly Demon Style moved on its own—sharp, crooked, inhuman motions—as if my body had turned into a shadow pulled by murderous intent.
One by one, the kobold generals fell.
Some were split at the waist.
Some had their heads crushed under my heel.
Some tried to flee, only to be dragged back by my sword wrapping around them like a demon's tongue.
When the flames finally died, the room had become an open grave.
I stood in the middle of a pile of kobold corpses, body drenched in blood—some mine, most not. My breath was ragged, but my eyes stayed locked on the large figure that hadn't moved since the beginning.
The Kobold King still sat on his throne.
Those dim green eyes watched me with hatred and judgment.
And the most annoying part—
I wasn't given even a moment to catch my breath.
He rose.
No thunderous roar, no war cry—just a sudden movement that made the air around me feel like it had been sucked out of my lungs. One blink, and his massive body was gone from the throne.
Then appeared right in front of me.
His giant sword came down from above like a falling moon. I jolted back three steps, almost slipping on the fresh pool of blood beneath my feet. My vision blurred; red streaks ran from my temple, staining the edge of my left eye.
I wiped it with the back of my hand, but that only made the world look like it was covered in a blood filter.
The Kobold King's breaths were harsh—whether from witnessing his army being wiped out or from holding back his fury until the right moment, I didn't know. Meanwhile, my own breathing rose and fell like a horse forced to sprint across three villages.
But amidst that chaotic breathing, I caught something.
My reflection in the Kobold King's eyes.
And honestly, it was almost funny—if he wasn't trying to kill me.
There, in the surface of his green, crack-glass-like gaze, I saw a figure that… well, honestly looked more like a floor 100 final boss than an adventurer still trying to level up.
My body was drenched in blood from head to toe. Some streaks had dried black, others dripped fresh. My face was messy, my hair stuck to my forehead, and my eyes… yeah, that was the most obvious part.
Black eyes with red pupils, glowing faintly like stubborn embers refusing to die out. Of course, that was the effect of Demonic Qi still flowing unstable through my body—I could feel it swirling beneath my skin, like hot smoke searching lazily for a way out.
"Good grief," I muttered, to no one in particular, "if I met myself in the hallway earlier… I'd probably run too."
The Kobold King didn't laugh. What a shame.
Maybe my humor is too advanced for a reptile race.
He lowered his body slightly, taking a ready stance. His massive sword rose again in both hands, and the green aura radiating from his scales began gathering around the blade.
I felt that pressure sweep across the room, weighing down on me like someone placing a huge stone on my chest.
"Very well," he said—or growled; hard to tell. "Show me the true form of your strength."
I drew a slow breath.
No time to fix myself up. No time to calm the Demonic Qi that was getting louder like a child refusing to take a nap.
All that existed was the distance of a single sword swing between me… and the end of everything.
"In that case," I said, trying to sound casual even though my voice was hoarse, "let's continue this crazy dance."
The Kobold King leapt.
I moved forward.
The Kobold King fell like a meteor.
I blocked his slash with the slime-sword that had hardened into something like dark red metal. The impact made the stone floor tremble, and sparks of green mixed with red shot in every direction. My palms instantly burned; almost like holding live embers with bare hands.
"You're pretty heavy, huh…" I muttered while holding back his blade.
The Kobold King growled, his face inches away from mine. His breath was hot, mixed with the smell of blood and metal. "You slaughtered my army. I have no reason to hold back anymore."
"Oh, trust me. I haven't been holding anything back either," I replied.
I shifted my foot slightly, turning my hips and letting momentum flow. That small movement was enough to knock his sword to the side. In an instant, I closed the distance, swinging my blade toward his neck.
But the king reacted faster than his huge body suggested. He ducked, then his elbow slammed into my stomach like a sledgehammer.
"Ugh—!"
Thrown a meter back, I almost crashed into the cold pile of kobold corpses. My stomach throbbed violently, and it felt like my organs were arguing about which one should fall out first.
Before I could draw breath, the king was on me again.
Seriously, this monster didn't know the meaning of a break.
He raised his sword high, ready to chop down from above. I jumped to the side, but the tip of his blade still managed to cut my shoulder—just a little, but enough to make blood spray like dark red ink.
And suddenly I felt… well, just slightly guilty.
But that guilt vanished the moment he kicked my head.
My body flew again, slamming into a stone pillar and nearly flattening my skull like smashed bread.
Okay. No room for sympathy now.
I stood up, rolling my neck until it cracked. "Alright. You want serious? We go serious."
I focused my Qi into my dantian.
The Demonic Qi responded like an overly excited little monster, rushing out of my meridians and flowing into my hands, feet, then wrapping around my whole body.
The air around me trembled softly.
The Kobold King raised an eyebrow—or whatever the kobold equivalent was. "That… is not human Qi."
"Yeah, this is the bonus package of suffering," I answered lightly.
I lifted my dark red sword. The slime blade shifted shape, becoming thinner, sharper, and far more dangerous. A faint chiming sound echoed from its surface, as if the weapon itself was breathing.
Heavenly Demon art
I vanished.
The Kobold King stomped the floor, sending a shockwave racing beneath me. "Useless! I can sense—"
I appeared right above him.
My sword came down, slicing through the air.
He blocked it. The impact cracked the air apart. But I was already moving, spinning behind him, slashing his left waist, then leaping back. Green blood sprayed from the wound.
The king grimaced, but didn't stop. He spun quickly—very quickly—swinging his sword like a giant fan blade. No pause, no breath. As if he intended to slice the entire room at once.
Heavenly Demon Sword Arts – Spiraling Serpent.
My body moved with almost no conscious intent. My fingers gripped the vibrating slime-blade tight, as if the technique made it too excited. I ducked, gliding forward like a shadow. Then my foot pivoted, my body following in a flowing spin—like a snake dancing: fast, slippery, and lethal.
My blade struck the kobold king's leg, cutting through it without much resistance. Green blood splattered, hot against my face and armor. I didn't stop—Spiraling Serpent always demanded continuation. So I let the second rotation rise, bringing my blade to meet his right arm, then his left arm.
The result was brutal.
Very brutal.
The kobold king's body collapsed to the floor like a puppet with cut strings, leaving only his head—yes, that fanged head—still alive, still conscious, and still staring at me.
I landed lightly, breath ragged, chest rising and falling like a blacksmith's bellows. My knees nearly trembled. The adrenaline lingered, but pain began creeping up from my waist to my back.
And when I raised my sword, aiming it at his neck—well, whatever part of his neck was still recognizable—I expected to see fear, anger, or at least a little regret.
Instead, I got… satisfaction.
//--//
If you need more, please visit my Patr3on via the link below:
https://www.patr*eon.com/cw/Mr_Wan
Remove the quotation marks and there are around 20+ chapters available.