Battle Against the Unease
To soothe my uneasy heart, I chose battle.
I threw myself into it mindlessly.
I hunted, fought, and struggled without rest.
Whenever I stopped, that creeping anxiety welled up, so I immersed myself completely to drown it out.
At least when my body was in motion, distracting thoughts like anxiety didn't creep in.
Above all, I could directly confirm my growth, making it the best way to ease my unease.
But even that didn't last long.
My progress had slowed.
Since arriving on the 38th floor, I'd thrown myself into frenzied efforts to shake off the anxiety I'd felt before, but at some point, the noticeable changes dwindled.
The occasional status window alerts had also fallen silent.
I'd hit a plateau.
I'd experienced these stagnant phases before, but this time, my impatience burned hotter than ever.
And I knew exactly why.
The anxiety from the 37th floor hadn't faded.
Until now, I'd believed that with enough effort, I could grow as strong as what I'd witnessed back then.
Even stronger, perhaps. But now, I wasn't so sure.
Smooth growth followed by stagnation only amplified those doubts.
Can I do it?
Can I survive?
Can I stand tall among monsters like those?
Every time those thoughts slithered in, I'd repeat to myself, I can do it. Just keep pushing like always. But it had little effect.
The mind isn't something you can control at will, after all.
So I dove even deeper into the hunt.
I clashed in battles, fighting endlessly.
No status alerts heralded growth, but I didn't stop.
As I'd said, it was the only way to keep stray thoughts at bay.
There are monsters called Living Armors.
They belong to the mid-tier undead, spectral-type monsters that evolve into dullahan-like spectral knights.
Average rank is C to D.
Some individuals reach B-rank, but they're rare since most evolve into higher undead forms beforehand.
I encountered one in the middle of the desert.
True to its name, its flesh had rotted away, leaving only a knight's armor floating on a lingering soul.
Some wield swords or spears, but this one carried no weapons.
It simply drifted silently across the sands, emitting an eerie glow.
Estimated rank: C.
Its size and rank made it perfect for a quick gulp, but it wasn't that simple.
It wasn't alone—several clustered together.
No standout leaders among them aside from the Living Armors, which struck me as odd.
Not the massive horde I'd seen on the 37th floor, but still suspicious.
Undead without a superior typically wander solo rather than group up.
As I pondered the anomaly, I launched my ambush.
No need to hesitate.
Dwelling on it invited stray thoughts, and those brought back the anxiety.
Strike first, think later.
The clustered Living Armors were lower-ranked than me, but nearly ten strong.
Pure numbers made it comparable to ten C-rank hunters.
Real C-rank hunters might edge them out slightly, but it was still a burdensome force.
In the past, I'd have weighed every angle cautiously. Not now.
No need.
My body, honed by countless battles, reacted on instinct.
Most attacks couldn't pierce my durability, and even if they did, regeneration handled it.
I fought with near-reckless abandon.
Victory was mine, naturally.
It didn't take long to clear nearly ten Living Armors.
Easy.
Yet the anxiety lingered.
This battle alone showed my growth, but it brought no comfort.
The memories etched from the 37th floor were that shocking.
There are skies beyond the sky.
I scolded myself relentlessly—this won't do—but as always, it changed nothing.
I moved again.
Sought another foe to silence the idle thoughts.
That night, after easily triumphing over the Living Armor pack, I coiled up in the deep cave of my rocky hideout.
A few more battles followed, all victories, but they stirred nothing in me.
No stat growth, no skill advancements.
No progress meant no thrill.
All that remained was the familiar creeping anxiety.
I closed my eyes to sleep it off as usual, but tonight, slumber evaded me.
Was this the night to confront what I'd been ignoring?
Coiled tight, I pondered quietly.
The root of my anxiety.
The trigger was those hunters from the 37th floor.
Monsters more monstrous than monsters—overwhelming brutes.
Compared to them, I was pathetic.
Despite my efforts, I was still far off.
That realization bred unease.
I knew I'd grow stronger ahead.
Even anxious about the gap, I believed time would let me match—or surpass—them.
But my real worry wasn't failing to catch up.
Future floors would swarm with such hunters. Could I survive until I grew strong enough?
Would I be culled like the Death Knight before fully maturing?
Slaughtered helplessly like other monsters?
Without revenge?
Yes, the core of my anxiety was revenge.
The 37th-floor memories sparked it, but the root was my original vow: vengeance.
Shin Jae-jun. Kim Jun-su. Lee Ha-na.
I hadn't forgotten.
I'd deliberately avoided dwelling on them, but never erased them.
Buried in my heart, unforgettable.
No matter how long, I'd avenge myself someday.
Their fleeing backs as they abandoned me.
Even if they saw it as survival, it didn't justify ditching me.
That was their excuse.
Not mine.
I feared this life ending before proper revenge.
Revenge wasn't my ultimate goal, but I wouldn't abandon it.
The betrayal, helplessness, terror, despair I'd felt—I wanted them to taste it all.
That's why I worried.
Feared.
Being brutally culled by those hunter monsters before I could grow vengeful enough.
I'd considered it.
I'd grown decently; without hunters of that caliber, revenge seemed feasible.
Strike early before variables arose?
Given their level back then, my current self could manage...
But I shook my head.
Impossible in reality.
Revenge had been a vague notion; no concrete plans existed.
Their current ranks, locations—too much unknown.
And crucially, I was a snake. A monster. Not small, either.
Outside the labyrinth suited revenge better, but could I exit safely?
Stealth might work, but a hunter sensing presences would spot me instantly.
Best case, I wouldn't be culled on sight.
Too many practical barriers for immediate revenge.
I'd sketched plans, but most were mere fantasies.
As always, the answer was to grow stronger.
Strong enough to protect myself, no matter what.
Strong enough to act on my desires freely.
Facing the anxiety's root changed nothing.
No epiphany, no sudden power, no resolution.
Yet my heart felt lighter.
Perhaps simply acknowledging what I'd ignored?
Anxiety still lingered, but things were clearer, better.
This would carry me a while longer.
Definitely.
It didn't.
I encountered hunters.
About fifty, maybe?
No S-rank monstrosities like on the 37th floor, but each exuded an unsettling aura.
Returning from a Plains Zone expedition, probably.
Don't touch me, and I'll pass by unnoticed. Please...
I tried slipping away indifferently, but they had other ideas.
Weapons drawn, they charged.
A-rank at the vanguard, backed by B- and C-ranks.
The heavens show no mercy.
Looks like I can't manage after all.
I barely escaped.
Lucky a Sand Worm pack passed nearby.
Did they help because we looked alike?
Sand Worms are worms, I'm a snake—long and slender, at least.
I'd just resolved to push on, and now...
Forget pushing; my anxiety swelled.
The labyrinth is perilous.
Am I developing depression?
How does a monster get treated for that?
Anyway, my routine didn't change.
Anxiety and impatience drove me to grow, hunting and battling relentlessly.
No breaks, constant motion.
Time flowed like water, and my stalled growth inched forward, slowly.
Only then did the pressing anxiety and impatience begin to fade.
But my routine held firm.
Still hunting, still fighting.
No rest until I was satisfied.
An endless cycle of struggle.
Quite some time passed like that.