In a flash, Akira's left fist surged with magic power—glowing, fluid, alive.

With precision born of countless battles, he swung it at the exact point of tension between their fists.

BANG—!

Goliath's arm erupted with wounds—deep, raw gashes tearing across its flesh. Blood jetted out like pressurized geysers, painting the air in crimson streaks.

The shock was too much. The behemoth's body reeled back, unable to resist the force. Its massive form was hurled backwards, slamming into the ground with an impact that sent tremors through the cavern.

Akira didn't wait. He pulled his legs free from the crumbling floor with a sharp stomp, channeling explosive strength from his soles.

The stone beneath him shattered—veins of cracks spreading outward like a spiderweb. Then, with a burst of magic power, Akira vanished, his figure blitzing through the air like a streak of light.

In the next heartbeat, he was above Goliath. His right foot descended in an arc like a divine executioner's axe, slicing through the air with precision and force.

THUD!

The kick slammed into Goliath's forehead with a devastating blow. The monster's skull, rock-hard and durable, caved in under the impact, and its titanic body collapsed with a ground-shaking crash. Dust exploded around it in a massive cloud.

Silence fell.

The monster rex lay sprawled and motionless.

Akira flipped midair and landed back at his original position. His breathing was steady but elevated, his eyes still glowing with the aftershocks of adrenaline and victory.

Before him, Goliath remained completely still. The massive dent in its skull and the blood trailing down its face told the full story.

"...Still alive?" Akira raised a brow, grinning. "C'mon, don't tell me that was it? I haven't even gotten serious yet."

His voice echoed across the empty chamber—unruly, fearless, a sharp edge of playful mockery beneath it.

But Goliath offered no answer.

Only silence.

Until—another sound.

Soft. Subtle. But unmistakable.

Footsteps.

They echoed faintly from the tunnel behind him—graceful, yet somehow overwhelming.

Akira's instincts flared like a storm. He spun around instantly, magic power flaring to the surface of his skin like a second layer of armor. The air around him shimmered as his magical senses extended, feeling for even the slightest tremor.

Then she appeared. A woman walked forward—no, glided, as though the world itself bent to accommodate her presence.

Her long gray hair cascaded gently down her back, untouched by dust or wind. Her face, untouched by makeup, radiated an ethereal beauty that surpassed even the most graceful elf. Her black gown clung to her form like woven shadow, highlighting her elegant, mature curves.

Her eyes were closed. Yet the aura she exuded—silent, suffocating, commanding—was sharper than any blade.

Akira didn't know who she was. But every cell in his body screamed the same message.

Danger.

That instinctive feeling, an encounter with an apex predator, sent a chill coursing down Akira's spine.

For the first time since reaching Level 37, he had encountered someone… truly dangerous.

A pressure that pressed on his lungs. A danger he couldn't quantify. And yet, within seconds, that overwhelming threat dissolved.

Suddenly, the mysterious woman before him seemed... weak. Unnaturally so.

This bizarre contrast made Akira's brows furrow in confusion.

"Who... are you?" He asked warily.

But the woman gave no reply. Silently, she extended a black-gloved hand and, at a glacial pace, pointed past him—behind his back.

Akira's body tensed.

Snap!

From the ground behind, a tremor shook the room. Goliath, whose massive body had remained still and lifeless just moments ago, opened his eyes once more.

A sinister red light blazed within them. The beast convulsed. Like a puppet regaining autonomy, its body trembled violently as it pushed itself up, joints grinding like rusted gears.

"ROOOOOAR!!"

The ear-splitting bellow reverberated off the walls.

The gray-haired woman wrinkled her brow in irritation, a deep crease forming between her elegant brows. Her voice was cold and laced with disdain.

"So noisy... Brat, if you're not going to clean that thing up, I will."

Akira didn't respond with words. He simply turned, his expression sharpening.

"Don't get too close to us." He muttered and bolted.

His body moved like a comet, a blur streaking toward Goliath in a flash.

Originally, he had planned to prolong this battle, to enjoy every fist, every dodge—the rhythm of violence.

But with that woman watching and things escalating, Akira knew he couldn't afford the luxury of restraint.

He had to end it. Now.

Magic power surged through his body like a tidal wave. His right fist blazed, crackling with sheer power.

The pressure distorted the very air around it, causing the atmosphere to sizzle with strain. It sounded like the dungeon itself groaned under the power he now unleashed.

Sensing danger, Goliath let out another roar and swung its thick, muscled arms—flesh and bone forming twin battering rams. But it was too slow.

Akira closed the distance in the blink of an eye.

BANG!!

A deafening thud echoed through the chamber.

His fist struck against Goliath's chest. Bones shattered. Stone cracked. And a bloody hole burst through the beast's torso.

The impact sent Goliath flying backward, its massive frame crashing against the wall with such force that the entire dungeon seemed to quake.

Chunks of stone rained down from above.

Goliath twitched, then slumped, as the magic stone inside its body cracked and finally shattered with a soft crunch.

Its energy drained away in seconds, like the receding tide, leaving only an empty husk. The red glow in its eyes dimmed, flickered, and finally—it died.

Ash fell where there had once been menace.

Akira stood still, his breathing steady as his gaze drifted back to the enigmatic woman.

The gray-haired figure hadn't moved. Their eyes, though hers remained closed, seemed locked in a silent exchange. No words were spoken, but the tension in the air hadn't faded.

Invisible pressure still hung heavy between them, thick and suffocating.

"...Is there anything else?" Akira asked, his tone clipped, edged with irritation. "If not, I'll take my leave."

He didn't know who she was, but time was something he couldn't waste. The girls were waiting. His to-do list was long. His calendar was packed. He still had to master "time management" when he got back.

Not waiting for a reply, he moved past her, casually brushing through the strange pressure.

But then—

"What's your level, kid?"

Her voice drifted to his ears—calm, emotionless, as if asking about the weather.

Akira paused, instinctively.

"...Level 2." He answered without thinking, surprising even himself. Why did he say that?

"Really? Not bad." The woman's lips curled ever so slightly.

She began to walk again, her destination unclear, her pace steady.

Akira glanced over his shoulder. Something nagged at him. He squinted. "What's your name? I don't recall there being someone like you in Orario. Someone… this strong."

A faint smirk tugged at the edge of her lips.

"Kid, has no one taught you that your pick-up lines are awful?"

She didn't answer his question.

"...Alfia. My name."

The name hit him like a distant echo.

It seemed vaguely familiar, yet he couldn't place it.

Akira scratched the back of his head and chuckled, "Never heard of it. Anyway, I'm leaving. Later."

He turned, his footsteps echoing down the dungeon corridor.

But just moments later—

TAP. TAP.

Footsteps. Behind him.

Akira turned again and saw her calmly following him at a steady pace.

"...Didn't you say you were going the other way?" He asked, exasperated. "Why are you following me?"

He couldn't figure this woman out.

"You rude brat." Alfia replied casually. "What business is it of yours where I go?"

Though she seemed like she wanted to give him a solid scolding, she chose not to. Instead, she passed by Akira and took the lead.

She hadn't come to the dungeon for battle. She had only intended to relive old memories—an old battlefield for heroes long gone.

And perhaps, find someone worthy. A spark. But what she discovered was more than she had expected.

A Level 2 who defeated a Level 4 Goliath like it was routine. And he did it while yawning.

What an unexpected surprise.

Now, the two of them—strangers, yet not quite—walked side by side through the dungeon's winding passages.

They didn't speak. The silence was only broken by the echoes of slain monsters—crushed either by Akira's devastating punches or invisible forces from Alfia.

It was strangely peaceful.

Then, Alfia broke the silence.

Raising her head slightly, her voice echoing softly. "Little ghost... has Orario already forgotten us?"

Her tone held a trace of melancholy. Not quite sadness. Not quite regret. Just... something lost.

She hated noise. But in absolute silence, even she felt unsettled.

And so—she spoke.

Akira frowned.

That nickname again.

He came to a halt and turned to her with a serious face. "Don't call me little ghost. I have a name—Akira. If you call me that again, I'll call you auntie."

Alfia stopped too. Though her eyes remained closed, she could feel his stubbornness.

She let out a cold snort. "...Disgusting little ghost."

"...Disgusting auntie."

Akira didn't miss a beat. His reply was sharp and immediate.

But after a pause, he added more seriously, "I don't know what others think. I've only been in Orario for two months. I still don't understand a lot of things."