The Dragonkin chewed down on the still-struggling Puji, happily dodging mushroom cannon fire as he ate.

His face actually showed bliss.

Good grief. He really thought Pujis were delicious?

Lin Jun personally took over the aiming, setting up predictive shots, sealing escape routes, layering volleys—

Perfect. Not a single hit landed.

This Dragonkin was the fastest creature he had ever encountered.

Not just in raw speed—he accelerated, braked, and turned with terrifying agility.

Fast in every direction, with destructive power to match.

A true super-monster among super-monsters.

After a few wasted attempts, Lin Jun gave up trying to hit him. Better save his strength.

Besides, more creatures were already crawling from the fissure. This side was doomed to fall anyway—

Except, in the blink of an eye, the Dragonkin blurred forward and lopped off the heads of two new arrivals.

The monsters had just emerged, ready to devour Pujis.

…Wait. He was guarding his food?

Lin Jun immediately called his surviving Pujis back and bunched them in front of the rift, making sure every new monster’s attention went straight to them.

If the Dragonkin wanted to “protect his meal,” Lin Jun was happy to oblige.

But the next thing that crawled out chilled even him.

Even before it emerged, a single claw pushed through the rift, carrying with it a wave of frigid air.

A hulking beast squeezed through, muscles bulging, jagged exoskeletal spines jutting across its body.

【Species: Ratkin – Frostbone Giant Rat】

【Level: 54】

“Ratkin,” but at nearly seven meters tall, it barely resembled a rat at all.

Only the pointed head gave away the lineage.

A Dragonkin and a Giant Rat. Both over level fifty.

This fissure was spewing out stronger monsters than the other one.

The Frostbone Giant Rat lumbered forward, eyes falling on the half-frozen Pujis.

It lifted its enormous paw to casually crush them—

But the black figure slammed into it first.

Tiny in comparison, the Dragonkin nonetheless drove the rat to the ground, talons raking open its chest.

The giant shrieked and countered with a blast of frost-breath.

The two clashed furiously before the rift, Dragonkin pressing the advantage, Ratkin resisting fiercely.

Every other monster emerging was instantly caught up in their battle—crushed underfoot, frozen solid, torn apart.

The Pujis wisely scuttled back, waiting to be the victor’s snack.

Lin Jun even sent a squad of Illusion Pujis as “dessert,” hurrying them over.

Perhaps he could pull off a fisherman’s profit here.

For now, at least, this fissure was contained.

But he didn’t feel any relief.

Because a third problem had appeared—

The monsters from the lower floors were now surging upward into the fifth floor.

From the top of the stairwell, he watched them crawling like a mass of insects, swarming, jostling, spilling over each other.

The once-spacious spiral stairs were so packed that some creatures were shoved off the edge.

And they weren’t fighting each other.

Natural enemies marched side by side, ignoring instinct.

It felt like the whole Dungeon was a single family—

Except for him.

So he wasn’t invited to the party?

Fine. Then they could all die.

Hundreds of Pujis lined the balcony and rained mushroom shells downward.

The monsters had no room to dodge. The front ranks were splattered against the walls.

They tried to counterattack, but from such a steep angle, very few shots reached the Pujis.

Now and then a spike or water jet claimed one or two mushrooms—but replacements filled the gaps instantly.

So far, it was only sixth-floor monsters. Nothing too overwhelming.

But soon, lower-floor beasts would appear. Perhaps even those from the deep zones.

And these black fissures?

No way they only showed up on the fifth floor.

———

At the Amethyst Dungeon’s gate.

Adventurers fired through the barricade slits at the monsters battering the defenses.

None of the attackers were high-level.

Yet a troubling thought nagged them—

Among the usual first and second-floor creatures, there were strangers.

Meter-long flying worms with horrid mouthparts.

Quick, muscular little dragon-beasts sprinting on heavy hind legs.

Had the Amethyst Dungeon ever held such things?

But no one spoke of it in the middle of battle.

They weren’t strong anyway. Nothing that could sway the fight.

Inside the guildmaster’s office, Oberon monitored everything through a crystal.

He allowed himself a breath of relief.

The resonance hadn’t opened directly into Dragoncliff’s deep layers. A small blessing.

If it stayed like this…

But in the image, the adventurers at the gate suddenly panicked.

They scattered to the sides. Only one man leaned closer to the crack, peering in.

Oberon’s pulse spiked.

No. Don’t tell me—

And of course, fate delivered.

The barricade shattered under a colossal, scale-plated body.

A lizard, two zhang tall [≈7 meters], spines bristling along its tail, burst through the debris.

The adventurer who had lingered was buried under tumbling stone, life or death uncertain.

Every adventurer froze, fear pinning them down.

Marshal, the seasoned gold-ranked veteran, was the first to move. He roared:

“What are you standing around for? Attack!”

He charged.

The giant lizard, despite its size, was still reeling from smashing through the gate.

Concentrated attacks brought it down quickly.

But the gate was open.

The monsters poured through.

The battle dissolved into chaos.

———

A curved blade stabbed into a flying worm’s belly, splitting it open.

Vera hastily wiped the blood away with cloth.

Not to preserve the weapon—it was just an ordinary steel saber.

But the worm’s blood was corrosive.

If left on, the blade would rot to useless scrap before nightfall.

“Filin, Fiyin, don’t leave my side.”

Two voices behind him confirmed.

He glanced around.

Plenty of monsters had broken through, but the situation wasn’t lost yet.

Several mages held the rear line with spells, stalling further breaches.

The ones that had made it out weren’t high-level.

Most of the adventurers here were experienced, silver rank at least.

And Marshal wasn’t the only gold-rank—over ten others matched his level.

They would clear this wave soon.

Yet Vera’s heart wouldn’t settle.

Wasn’t the Demon Tide supposed to be weak in its first days?

And yet, on the very first day, the gate had already fallen.

He looked back at the two sisters behind him and clenched his jaw.

If things truly turned grim, he’d take them and run.

Even if it meant being stripped of his Adventurer’s Guild status.