Barren Sands and a B-Rank Threat
After leaving the stone tomb behind, my daily routine became a relentless cycle of hunting and combat.
Most of my fights were against monsters, not hunters.
It felt a bit late to say it now, but I was determined to cling to whatever humanity I had left, so I minimized clashes with hunters as much as possible.
Of course, unavoidable encounters still happened, but I largely stopped seeking them out directly like before.
As I kept hunting and battling primarily monsters, I soon found myself among the stronger ones even in C-rank.
My stats rose steadily, and the next evolution didn't feel far off.
By gradually expanding my territory and scouting the surroundings, I managed to grasp the layout of the 30th floor to some extent.
It was a vast desert with no real landmarks, but I could now distinguish the features.
I knew where resources were, which monsters lurked where, and the main areas hunters frequented.
Unfortunately, no Skeleton Mage or similar monsters appeared on the 30th floor as I'd hoped.
So, settling for a floor lord or equivalent, I searched—but even that proved elusive.
I cautiously guessed that the large raid party heading to the lower floors recently had swept them clean.
Faces from that group flickered in my mind one by one.
Especially the one at the front: at least A-rank, maybe even S-rank.
An opponent towering impossibly high above me.
Recalling the chill dread I'd felt then, I pressed on.
My goal: the gate to the next floor.
Fortunately, no one was guarding it this time.
I slipped through to the 31st floor unscathed.
The 31st floor was much like the previous three: endless desert, dotted with rocky hills and oases here and there.
Hunters and monsters centered their activity around them, and I didn't stray far either.
Still no sign of a Skeleton Mage or floor lord-level monster.
They really had cleared everything out.
Otherwise, I couldn't have gone from the 28th to the 31st without spotting even one floor lord.
To them, it was just pruning periodic threats—but to me, it felt like they'd stolen vital stepping stones for growth. My mood sank.
How could there not be a single decent monster?
At least I'd spotted a few Sand Scorpions like the ones on the 28th.
None had magic stones, but they made fine sparring partners.
With nothing noteworthy on the 31st, I didn't linger and headed to the next floor.
Surely one will show up soon.
I was a little anxious they might have swept this one too, but I couldn't help hoping.
Just in case.
Just in case—but as expected.
No real gains on the 32nd floor either.
They'd swept it clean here too.
They could have left a few; it wouldn't hurt.
Did they have to take every last one to feel satisfied?
What about latecomers like me?
Hunters really lacked consideration.
At least I spotted a new monster type in the desert zone: Walking Cactus.
D- to C-rank.
True to its name, a walking cactus.
Average size one to two or three meters, with some giants reaching five.
I'd heard about them during my porter days, but seeing one was fascinating.
After endless undead reeking of death, this vibrant, life-filled creature was a welcome sight.
Though it didn't seem thrilled to see me.
The one I met was mid-tier, between C- and D-rank—too weak for C, too strong for pure D.
Quasi-C-rank, maybe?
Not much of a threat to me anyway.
Its brute strength and sharp spines posed minor issues, but nothing I couldn't handle.
I approached with friendly intent, but it swung its spine-studded arm like a mace, forcing me to dodge.
First monster friend since Wise Scale on the 17th floor?
But with such hostility, I had no choice.
It wasn't terribly dangerous, but surprisingly tough to take down.
My attacks were purely physical, and those spines made close contact risky.
Every time I reared to strike, it bristled like a hedgehog, so I lowered my tail warily.
Even with my tough scales, that'd sting.
Not worth eating anyway—just a rejected friend request. No need to kill.
I hated the pricks and saw no reason, so maybe back off?
As I turned away regretfully, it suddenly raised both arms.
Its stubby hands, fingers replaced by spikes, aimed at me.
What now?
I tilted my head curiously—then whoosh, something flew at me.
Stinging pain pierced my body.
Twisting in shock from the unexpected hit, I saw it smirking triumphantly.
A walking cactus with expressions? Impressive.
But more importantly—did it just get me?
Glancing down at the lingering sting, spines studded my scales thickly.
Fired from its fingertips moments ago.
It could launch them?
I hadn't expected ranged attacks from this thing.
Standing dumbly, I'd let it land.
Luckily, they hadn't pierced my scales deeply—just grazed the surface.
If they'd been stronger or poisoned, it'd have been dicey.
Ignorance is a sin in the labyrinth.
My own words from recently echoed back.
Good thing luck was on my side; otherwise, today might've been my reckoning.
I reflected quietly.
But to think it'd strike first—especially as I was retreating peacefully.
Did it underestimate me?
Humiliation from the surprise attack simmered into quiet rage.
Not even full C-rank, just a slightly tough D-rank daring this?
Did it think I was backing off because I was weaker?
Monsters without intellect...
Even mercy goes unrecognized.
Fine then.
I released the suppressed presence I'd maintained in Stealth, the aura of countless kills.
Shii──
With a low hiss, I advanced. It flinched, its smug face flashing dismay.
Now it gauged my true level.
It must've misjudged due to my hidden aura.
Maybe unfair from its side.
But no mercy now.
Ignorance is a sin in the labyrinth.
Attack, and die.
Can't kill? Get killed.
My initial goodwill was gone.
No forgiveness, even if it stung.
Regret rejecting my friendship as you die.
With resolve, the fight ended in under a few minutes.
I handled C-ranks easily; a D couldn't compete.
Shaking spines from my scales with my tail, I eyed the fallen Walking Cactus.
Unlike others, thick dark green sap soaked the sand.
Edible?
Too spiny, probably not.
Old imaginings from swallowing Horn Rabbits resurfaced.
Would all those spines snag somewhere?
Not great if they lodged awkwardly.
Anxiety rising, I turned away discreetly.
Unlike then, I wasn't starving—no need to eat it.
Just check for a magic stone and go?
I rummaged through the corpse.
No luck—no stone.
As a mere D-rank, no surprise.
Stones come more from higher ranks.
I hadn't expected much, but disappointment lingered.
No new friend, no meal, no stone.
Rank gap meant no stat gains either.
Pure time waste.
My mood plummeted.
Scouting more of the 32nd yielded nothing new, predictably.
Just the usual undead, hunters, and a few more Walking Cacti, which I dispatched amicably.
Not venting prior frustration—nope.
Soon deciding to move on without lingering.
The 33rd would likely be similar, but I held faint hope.
Deeper floors meant stronger average monsters, after all.
Surely tougher foes awaited.
Clutching that expectation, I headed straight to the 33rd.
My hopes were betrayed.
The 33rd floor matched the rest: barren.
Hunters had no mercy.
No consideration for stragglers.
How could no worthy prey remain?
Dejection hit hard.
Hunters swarmed the desert, sure—but not enough to erase all monsters.
Excluding background low-tier undead, active monsters were scarce.
Just bottom-of-the-food-chain trash; nothing near my level.
Hunters' fault, clearly.
Unforgivable—I'd have to fight them.
Post-stone tomb, I'd avoided hunters to preserve my humanity, but that resolve was crumbling.
Screw humanity; rage at their selfishness boiled over.
At this rate, I'd stagnate—no fights meant forgetting how to battle.
Fine—grab any passing hunter and fight.
Can't fight monsters? Hunters would boost stats instead.
Plus, my Gluttony reserves were dipping; time to rampage properly.
With that vow, I hunted actively—and met a threat beyond imagination.
The strongest hunter I'd faced yet.
A B-rank hunter.
I faced an opponent one rank above me.
Should've just stayed put.