60th Floor Free-for-All, Part 1
Through the open gates of the fortress, charging out of the thick gunsmoke and dust, came a single knight.
Grotesque black armor that looked like human muscle cast in steel. A black helmet shaped like a deer's antlers. Not a single patch of skin visible—only a pair of red eyes gleaming from the darkness. A grey greatsword as massive as a man's body, and a tattered cloak billowing behind him.
He looked like the textbook result of searching "dark knight" or "death knight" on the internet. But the dark aura enveloping his entire body proved that even if his appearance looked mass-produced, he was still the boss of the 60th floor.
"Hoh, I expected you to hold the line."
"For whose benefit?"
"This is—what—"
What that terrifying presence's greatsword targeted wasn't Irene's legionnaires clad in holy armor, nor the adventurers and mercenaries milling about nearby.
Without a moment's hesitation, his greatsword plunged into the black mage's back. And just as swiftly, my warhammer smashed into the black mage's chest. Like a hammer and anvil—or a hammer and chisel—the man had his heart torn from both sides and crumbled without even leaving last words.
Even if I'm strong, I'm a tank—dying in one hit? So the black mage's final trump card must have been some kind of self-destruct that burns his own HP. Even accounting for a boss monster's strike, the mid-boss died way too pathetically.
"You're sharp, though. Doesn't seem like you knew—pure instinct, then?"
"……?"
A strange standoff began with the black mage's corpse between us. In the brief moment as the corpse crumbled into loot, he muttered something incomprehensible.
Well, of course I'd notice when he charged out so blatantly—what's he on about with "instinct"? But as the black mage's corpse crumbled into mana, transforming into a magic stone, a staff, and multicolored crystals that clattered to the ground, something suddenly occurred to me.
What if the black mage wasn't trying to self-destruct, but this was an execution event by an ally?
Like the Harpy Empress and the underground monster events—where the boss monster consumes the mid-boss and powers up?
A purple-black crystal made from human life. Crystals with flames and frost swirling inside as if alchemy had been sealed within. Transparent crystals that seemed to serve as catalysts. And among them, a large, round crystal sphere… no, a crystal heart.
Carved in the shape of a human heart from crystal, anyone could tell that was the most important byproduct.
"Who wouldn't notice when you charge out so blatantly?"
"Heh, I too am no good at schemes beyond what's visible."
The red eyes gleaming gloomily from within the helmet also turned toward the crystal heart, and my gaze fixed blindly on that crystal heart as well.
With the crystal heart between us, our eyes meeting became the signal for a contest of strength.
With the black mage's corpse gone from the middle, the mace and greatsword locked together directly, grinding with an ominous screech. His build was about the same size as mine, but his strength was nearly at ogre levels.
Well, it would be weird if the 60th floor boss monster was weak just because he was humanoid. Thinking that, I put power into my lower body and gritted my teeth to keep him from reaching for the crystal heart.
I'd rushed out so fast I was only swinging the mace with both hands—if I'd tried to grab my shield and swing one-handed, I'd have been embarrassingly pushed back.
"Good, good! Cast aside those petty schemes and let's clash——!!!"
Looks like even with the raw stats of a natural 6-star, I can't overwhelmingly beat a boss. Well, in an RPG where you're supposed to form a party, soloing everything with one character would be too shameless. As I thought that, dark magic rose from his body like mist.
Unlike mid-bosses who keep summoning and strengthening troops if you give them time, this guy seems to face enemies alone inside the fortress like a Demon King.
A pure-stats opponent with no weird special patterns—the kind where you have to honestly slug it out, so newbies call him a meat grinder or thresher, but once you've got decent combat power, this type is actually easier to handle.
"How long has it been since a warrior withstood me head-on!"
"You're just something the Tower spawned—quit acting like you're somebody."
"This body is the Demon King's sword, one of the Four Heavenly Kings who lead the vanguard! I remember every battlefield I've walked!"
——And mid-thought, an unexpected coming-out.
At the words "Four Heavenly Kings," the camera frantically zoomed in and scanned him thoroughly.
"Huh, Four Heavenly Kings? …Well, it does sound a bit childish, but it is a Demon King army cliché. If a Heavenly King showed up on the 60th floor as a boss-tier, then one each on the 60th, 70th, 80th, and 90th floors, and the Demon King himself on the 100th."
Still, the Four Heavenly Kings was an identity I never saw coming.
The guy who introduced himself as the Demon King's sword and vanguard captain, some-or-other knight, putting on airs the whole time. For someone in pitch-black armor who looked like he'd just go hmm—, hrm— without saying a word and let the atmosphere do the talking, he was absurdly chatty.
But a standoff couldn't last forever. The guy who'd been noisily introducing himself twisted his wrist, angling the greatsword to deflect my mace.
It wasn't a full-powered downward strike, though—just a pressing cut with our weapons already locked. A greatsword driven purely by force and weight with no proper stance wasn't going to punch through my armor, so I stepped forward and slammed my shoulder into him.
"Hoh, you don't fall back? Truly valiant."
"Man, you talk a lot for how you look."
"Everything I share with a fine warrior becomes my nourishment. Sword strikes, conversation—anything will do."
The greatsword, failing to shatter my pauldron, buried itself in the ground and got stomped under my foot.
My mace, deflected by the greatsword and aiming for his chest, was likewise deflected.
With both our weapons stuck in the ground, we found ourselves in another strange standoff. But what broke that standoff was neither me nor the Heavenly King—it was Katie, who'd quietly come sprinting in.
He didn't seem particularly interested in a one-on-one duel; even after noticing Katie charging in, he showed no irritation and prepared to meet her. He kicked my gut to make distance and raised his greatsword, but… Katie, who'd nimbly run all the way to the front of the fortress, didn't draw her sword.
"…You wench, what are you doing?"
"Hanna said this is important, so I'm putting it in my inventory first!"
"Nice, Katie!"
In the gap while we pulled our weapons free from the ground at a distance, Katie—who'd laid ice under her feet and slid in like a skater—went straight for the black mage's crystal heart. Hanna must have put her up to it; with the camera hanging off her back, she snatched the heart in a motion so smooth it was almost beautiful, then spun and fled.
Maybe it was her northern background, but she seemed to have a talent for skating too. Watching her sweep up the loot in an instant and pull a perfect 180-degree turn, even the pickiest judges would give her a perfect ten.
The Heavenly King raged as if he couldn't comprehend what he was seeing. The tattered cloak hanging from his shoulders flapped like it had been caught in a storm, pouring out streams of pitch-black magic.
Probably because of his battle-junkie nature—his fight-obsessed personality—he was venting furious rage at Katie turning her back and running. Then he started gathering magic in his hand like he was about to fire a long-range pattern, so I immediately charged forward.
Just cut him down right now——!
I took a step forward and called forth the Holy Sword, its cooldown finally up.
Since ancient times, the art of the quick-draw has been the strongest technique… or rather, it's been used for underhanded ambushes, hasn't it? I had no scabbard and had never learned iaido, but if I just yanked it out from my hip and swung, I could call it something like a quick-draw.
On the first step, the mace dissolved into holy power and vanished, and I felt my shield far away.
On the second step, the Holy Sword's hilt settled firmly in my grip, holy power rippling around it.
On the third step, the Holy Sword swept smoothly through the air—not with physical force, but with holy power carving the atmosphere itself.
"Kh, you! You'd protect even a coward who turns their back and flees the battlefield?!"
"Protect or not—she's our party member, you bastard!"
Even for a boss monster, a mass of holy power that ignored defense couldn't be taken lightly; the pitch-black magic he'd been shaping into a throwing spear hastily intercepted the Holy Sword.
But a skill activated for long-range suppression had no chance of stopping a Holy Sword that ignored all defense and resistance. Passing through the spear that snapped like a twig, the Holy Sword slid smoothly inside his armor and carved him deep.
An oblique gash that sank in below the shoulder, passed through the solar plexus, and exited out the side. But the Holy Sword was defense-ignoring damage, not an instant-kill—so there was no reason to stop swinging. The Holy Sword flailed about with zero swordsmanship, pure brute force. With muscles reinforced by mana and healed by holy power, I forcibly changed its trajectory.
The blade that had gone in through the forearm and out the side stopped dead, then angled upward again and drove into his armpit. His build was roughly human-sized, so there was no need to force the length—I just swung it like a madman's bat, stuffing in as much damage as possible.
From forearm to side, from armpit to shoulder, from collarbone to calf, from shin to ankle—— holding my breath, not caring about vital points or anything else, just hacking away wildly.
"I took you for a warrior, but you're just a street thug, you bastard!"
But in that short span he'd already figured out the Holy Sword's properties, and he flung himself backward to put serious distance between us. As expected of a boss monster and a Heavenly King. Looks like I can't cheese him with the Holy Sword in five minutes.
…What a waste. I wanted to freeload my way up to at least the 80th floor.