As soon as my vision regained its usual clarity, a blast of scorching air engulfed my body, as if I had been thrown straight into a colossal furnace. The searing wind slammed against my face without the slightest mercy, carrying fine grains of sand that scraped against my skin like countless tiny blades.
The dry atmosphere made my lips stick together almost instantly, and I found myself licking them over and over in a futile attempt to recover even a trace of moisture. It was useless. The heat stole any hint of hydration within seconds.
The ground beneath my feet was a mosaic of deep cracks, as if the land itself had been split into hundreds of fragments by the sun's wrath. Scattered across the terrain, claw marks, scorch marks, and gouges told a silent story of countless battles that had taken place here. It felt like stepping into a graveyard of forgotten conflicts.
At the edge of my vision, colossal dunes rose in shades ranging from rusty red to charcoal black, forming a landscape so unreal it felt ripped straight out of a nightmare. Each ripple of sand seemed to shift subtly with the wind, as if the desert itself were breathing, alive, yet utterly empty.
"Just like the description… there really is no water or food source here."
My voice came out low and hoarse, as if the heat had scorched my vocal cords as well.
This place was dead. Completely desolate. Vegetation was reduced to a handful of twisted, lifeless branches. No animals. No signs of life. Not even birds dared to fly overhead.
The only movement came from small subterranean insects fleeing from the light and heat, surviving within the deep fissures of the cracked earth. Aside from monsters, beings that didn't even breathe like we did, nothing could survive here by choice.
Above me, the sky stretched in a pale, blinding red, like an eternal sunset frozen in time. A grotesquely massive sun burned against the back of my neck, and the "simulation desert" I once found oppressive now felt like a pleasant stroll through a park by comparison.
I took a few seconds to acclimate to the hostile environment before sitting down to check my equipment. The heat made every movement feel sluggish and heavy.
My hand brushed against the newly acquired katana secured at my waist, its presence oddly comforting amid the sterile chaos. I ran through a quick mental checklist.
"Let's see… the sword's here. The food is stored in the Ouroboros and should last about a week."
"Potions shouldn't be an issue either. I bought a few regeneration and stamina ones… low quality, but effective."
"Alright… I think I'm ready."
I sighed. The idea of exploring this hellish place didn't excite me in the slightest, but there were no alternatives. Moving forward was the only option.
Ren should only enter after a few hours. And the initial spawn point inside the dungeon is completely random. Considering the absurd size of this place… the chances of running into him were practically zero.
Good.
The sandstorm event and the emergence of the Castle of Everblood were still far off. I had enough time to move around and explore without fear.
I should conserve energy for the fight against Everblood… but with the potions I brought, I could afford to sweat a little.
Not that I really had a choice.
As I walked beneath the brutal sun, my body began sweating just from existing in this place. Droplets slid down the fox mask, making breathing uncomfortable. With a tired motion, I removed the mask and let it hang to the side, allowing my face to breathe the hot air.
I probably wouldn't run into any humans out here anyway, so it didn't matter.
I continued wandering, my steps sinking slightly into the scorching sand, until after a few minutes I noticed something moving in the distance.
Beneath the shadow of a dead, twisted tree, a small figure rested. Its yellowish-green skin was marred with dark blotches and irregularities. Pointed ears jutted out like small knives, and crooked teeth protruded from a deformed mouth. It wore crude leather rags.
A goblin.
The purest fantasy-book stereotype.
The moment it noticed me, it let out a guttural, animalistic growl. Grabbing the knotted wooden club beside it, the creature charged forward in an awkward, savage, almost pathetic sprint.
A primitive attack. Brutal. Completely predictable.
"Ugghhgrrr!"
Swosh.
The sound was clean, almost elegant.
The katana slid from its sheath so smoothly it felt as though it sliced through the air itself.
A single strike. Precise. A white arc traced a perfect curve.
The goblin's head rolled across the dry ground like a light stone, while its body staggered forward two more steps before collapsing to its knees and toppling into the sand.
"Easy…"
I'd recently realized that I had already mastered passive breathing, something I once believed impossible at my level. I no longer needed to activate a specific form to strengthen my body or enhance my endurance. It happened naturally. Automatically.
Every movement, every strike, carried a constant layer of power.
…But honestly?
Against a goblin, it didn't matter at all.
This was a Rank F dungeon.
And I was currently F+. At the very top of the food chain here, at least in theory.
Bosses or larger monsters, like the giant sand worm, would still make me sweat a bit, sure…
But goblins? They were basically raw materials.
I stared at the decapitated body on the ground, thinking about my next move. There was a certain… ridiculous mechanic I remembered Ren using here. A hidden one.
I sighed deeply, resigned.
I spat on the goblin's corpse.
And, with the dramatic conviction of a low-budget soap opera actor, declared:
— Stupid goblin.
No, I didn't have anything personal against goblins.
But Ren thought it would be a brilliant idea to code a secret reaction if you insulted a goblin, while alone.
And of course… it worked.
Within seconds, a faint tremor rippled beneath my feet.
The price for insulting a dead goblin? A vengeful horde.
On the horizon, a cluster of small green shapes came running toward me. I counted them quickly.
Twenty-two goblins.
Almost exactly as Ren had described.
I took a deep breath, tightened my fingers around the sheath of Snow Lady, and felt oxygen mixed with mana flood my muscles, energizing my body.
The horde closed in. In just a few meters, combat was inevitable.
— Ugghhggrrr!
The first goblin leapt forward with its club raised. Before the crude, predictable strike could reach me
Swosh.
The katana burst from its sheath like a streak of white lightning, its blade reflecting the scorching sun with an almost divine glow.
— Flower Breathing — First Form: Sakura Giri (Cherry Blossom Slash).
The horizontal cut tore through the air like a pink rift. Razor-sharp petals followed the arc, decapitating three goblins in the front line at once and sending the others stumbling in disarray.
I circled the group from the right. They reacted, trying to surround me.
One goblin leapt from the left, I split it in half before it even touched the ground.Another attacked from the right, I blocked its club, the impact ricocheting and completely shattering its guard.
Driving my blade through its chest, I used its body as a pivot, spinning around myself and striking the surrounding crowd.
Several goblins were blasted backward by the concussion, buying me precious seconds.
I retreated with a clean leap, immediately repositioning myself.
Once again, I inhaled deeply.
— Flower Breathing — Fifth Form: Ada no Shakuyaku (Peonies of Futility).
Swosh.
I surged forward like a storm of petals, unleashing a sequence of nine clean strikes.
The first cut: one goblin decapitated.
The second: another split in half as I twisted my body.
Third and fourth: two arms flew through the air, accompanied by grotesque screams.
I ducked, spun again, and the fifth strike cleaved through two stunned goblins at once.
The sixth met a frontal attacker, an ascending slash dividing it into two perfect halves.
Green blood and pink petals scattered through the air, forming a bizarre, almost beautiful palette.
The seventh and eighth strikes crossed into a massive X, cutting down two more goblins.
The ninth decapitated another that tried to attack from behind.
Even after finishing the sequence, the situation remained tense.
The remaining goblins had already adapted to my movements and completely surrounded me.
Eight of them leapt at once, swarming from every possible angle.
I planted my feet firmly into the ground, filling my lungs to their limit. A pink vapor leaked between my clenched teeth with a constant hiss.
Tsssssssssss
— Flower Breathing — Second Form: Mikage Ume (Honorable Shadow Plum).
The katana spun in my hands at near-invisible speed.
Cuts in every direction.
Upward.
Downward.
Diagonals.
Crosses.
Crescents.
Spirals.
An absolute storm of cutting petals erupted around me.
When the dust settled, nine goblins had been reduced to pieces. For a brief moment, a rain of petals mixed with green blood filled the air.
Furrrr—
I sheathed the blade with a satisfying click and exhaled a stream of pink-tinged air, the mark of the technique.
Only one goblin remained.
Trembling.
Panting.
The dilemma written all over its face was almost comical: run… or attack?
Either way
Swoosh.
I appeared behind it like a floral apparition and struck the back of its neck with the pommel of my sword.
It collapsed instantly, unconscious.
"Perfect. I've got plans for you."
I sat down on the back of the unconscious goblin, breathing deeply. Soon after, I pulled out a bottle of water from the Ouroboros to cool myself down.
I was covered in green blood, and honestly, I felt disgusting. I hated filth with every fiber of my being, but there was nothing I could do about it right now.
It hadn't been a long fight, but it was intense.
I remembered Ren, fighting the same horde for over an hour, nearly collapsing from exhaustion.
It made sense, his Keiki style was perfect for quick duels and pinpoint attacks, but terrible against multiple enemies and extremely stamina-intensive.
Me, on the other hand…
Breathing allowed me to preserve energy almost indefinitely.
And the versatility of the forms… well, Flower Breathing had wide-range attacks and rapid sequences, making it perfect for horde battles.
In the end, it all came down to specialization. And when it came to battles of endurance, that was where I shined.
I surveyed the carnage around me. Mutilated bodies, cracked sand stained green with blood.
Using my reverse sensitivity, I confirmed it, no cores in the goblins. As expected.
Without a proper dimensional storage, I couldn't take the bodies anyway, and given their condition, I doubted they were worth anything.
If I wanted orbs, I needed to find an area dense with monsters.
And I knew exactly how to get there.