Chapter 28
Chapter 28
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: 5th Floor: Clear Skies, Then Clouds
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Before heading down to the 5th floor, I was appraising the unidentified scrolls using the Scroll of Emotion from the Wanderer's box and getting everything sorted.
In the end, the Scroll of Protection and the Scroll of Flame Storm.
The Scroll of Protection granted a shield that blocked 100 damage for 10 turns, while the Scroll of Flame Storm was an absolute jackpot—a top-tier fire magic spell inscribed on it.
I carefully rolled up the scrolls and tucked them into my holster, a grin tugging at my lips from the sheer satisfaction.
If Severa hadn't been around, I wouldn't have gotten these either. She's the perfect daughter, through and through.
"Kya—delicious~"
In a burst of affection for her loveliness, I gave her plump rear a pat.
But unlike usual, there was no soft, fleshy give—just a swish as my hand sliced through empty air, missing its mark entirely.
She had spiritualized.
"What, still sulking because I didn't plug you personally?"
"Hmph."
Severa haughtily whipped her head away, as if she couldn't even be bothered to talk, then floated off to a spot well out of reach.
She kept sneaking peeks back at me, her expectations plain as day, but if she wouldn't say it outright, I'd just play dumb.
The nerve of an onahole trying to wrap her owner around her finger.
I ignored Severa as she huffed to herself and pulled out the Wanderer.
Standing her naked up front—her clothes all burned away—with nothing on would be as good as throwing away a hard-earned onahole, so I planned to kit her out with the gear from the box as-is.
Besides, the special effects on the equipment seemed tailor-made for the Wanderer anyway.
A black blindfold engraved with geometric patterns unseen in D.D., covering both eyes—the Blindfold of the Veiled Blind.
A cursed item that inflicted a blindness debuff on the user and couldn't be unequipped, but it offered excellent defense and, when chained from Half-Moon Slash, let her learn Full Moon Slash, ignoring the initial delay.
Great gear, but I had no confidence fighting blindfolded.
Plus, the Wanderer had the Bell of the End scouting around anyway, so the penalty was a non-issue.
Slipping the Blindfold of the Veiled Blind onto the Wanderer covered her signature vacant, unfocused dead eyes, dialing down that creepy vibe a notch.
"Oh. Just covering the eyes changes the whole atmosphere."
Her deep grape-purple hair cascaded refreshingly over her shoulders, and the blindfold made her look like a woman with a tragic backstory.
She did have one, but no one would guess she was harboring a parasitic creature.
"Ah... uaa..."
"Hang on, I'll get some clothes on you too."
It was hard to tell in onahole form, but the Wanderer had huge tits.
Like, massive.
'Whoa... three heads or what? Cerberus?'
Severa wasn't small, but this was on par with the sad ghost Maria's maternal bounty—just looking at those fat orbs warranted a thumbs-up.
Even in the Tier 1 leather set, they strained against the top like they were about to burst, and the tight lines hugging her thighs set her worlds apart from some dirty old man's.
"Mood's set!"
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The wound had healed enough overnight that it wouldn't split open if I moved, but it had been deep—left a nasty scar.
A massive gash, overlaid with three fresh slashes, crossed from my left shoulder to my right waist.
At first, every new scar worried me, but now I just shrugged it off. A scar meant I'd taken a hit that should've killed me and gotten lucky surviving.
I could always erase it later at a healing spring.
"Heals fast, doesn't it? Ever chomped on a troll heart back in the day?"
"Who eats hearts? Gross."
"Just a figure of speech..."
How barbaric do you have to be to even think of eating a heart?
I shot Albert a look of disdain for his troll-hating ways.
(For the record, I love blood sausage and pig intestines.)
"Anyway, everyone else ready?"
Four criminals maimed for life fighting the Wanderer—excluding Albert, now fully limbed, left just three able-bodied in the group.
Over half the original crew dead, and not even half the survivors unscathed. The mood was downright gloomy.
And Dave the blacksmith—one of the lucky ones—shuddered when our eyes met and bowed his head low.
Plus, in this filthy hellhole, amputations meant infection or disease was all but guaranteed.
They knew their odds weren't great.
Albert nodded anyway, affirmative.
"No point dragging our feet. Morale's not sky-high, but it's not utter despair either. Especially for those missing a limb or two."
"That's surprising."
Shouldn't it be the opposite?
"The hale ones fret about losing limbs in the next fight. The crippled hold out hope—if they pull back for treatment, they might survive."
"Ahh... like silver medal vs. bronze?"
The runner-up who just missed gold sulks, while the near-miss who snagged bronze beams.
Slightly different, but easy enough to grasp.
"You've got a solid build, too. Must've grown up well-fed. If you'd picked up a sword young, you'd have made something of yourself."
"Where?! Where are you looking?!"
I clutched my chest and kneed Albert in the shin.
"Ack."
Fine for a pretty girl, but a crusty old dude leering at my body? Unforgivable.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ To replace my shredded leather top, I'd squeezed a Tier 2 chain shirt off the criminals.
They clearly hated parting with it, but hey—if you wanted it, you catch the alligator. They forked it over meekly.
What flawless, smooth negotiation. I should start a trading company when I get back.
The end of the 4th floor.
I gazed down the stairs to the 5th, steeped in profound darkness like none I'd seen before, lost in sentiment.
'Never thought I'd make it intact.'
Endless foes, biting cold, hidden traps, brutal conditions.
Even I hadn't truly believed I'd reach the 5th floor unscathed. Conquering the sewers ahead felt downright emotional.
"Got a plan?"
Our foe: a giant alligator several times a man's size, give or take.
Albert's eyes hoped we weren't charging in blind, swinging wildly. I shrugged.
"Gotta stir up some memories first."
"Memories?"
Memories of Jeff, Vesha's owner.
I pulled out the alligator statue from my pouch and fiddled with it.
"Don't tell me that's the owner's..."
"Don't get the wrong idea. I've never kept pets. The owner's bones-deep on the 3rd."
"What an idiot, unleashing that thing and dying... tsk."
Jeff probably hadn't meant to release it, but I didn't add that.
Bottom line: the negligently loosed gator survived the sewers, gorged on mana, and ballooned huge.
"Then, while it's distracted, we hammer it with magic and ranged attacks. Got Ice Spear, so we can stack serious damage."
The legless got bows, crossbows—or rocks if nothing else.
Albert said the armless could still smash with hammers up front, but the legless couldn't even tank, so ranged it was.
"Once it's taken a beating, that leatherback will rage out."
The Sewer King flew into a frenzy below half health: accuracy and defense drop, attack spikes.
Survive 10 turns for it to end in grogginess—boss fights demanded solid survivability.
Obviously, I couldn't clone myself, so they'd fend for themselves then.
Telling them that bleached the frontline criminals' faces, but no helping it.
I couldn't rewrite the patterns.
"Survive once, and we've got it."
"Not hopeless, then. But wouldn't poison make it easier? Lay some out, let it fester."
Albert dangled a vial of clear liquid at me.
Clear potion = poison. Noted.
That said, I shook my head. Not a great idea.
"This beast survived years in shit-filled sewers. High poison resistance—even force-feeding that much might not stick."
Size was a factor too.
"Fair enough. Can't expect more without supplies."
"Alright. Everyone set?"
I didn't wait for answers. Not ready? Your problem.
Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh—
Torches on the walls ignited one by one as we approached, like they'd been waiting.
Some magic trigger?
The slick, thick moss coating the stairs threatened to send us tumbling with one misstep.
Clearly untouched by human feet for ages.
A stench incomparable to above assaulted us.
"Urk... fuck... gonna puke."
"Better than a battlefield left days after rain."
"Yeah, real improvement."
Rotting corpses beat soaked fields? Was Albert right in the head?
I fretted over his sanity while hoping the cavern opened soon.
Amid the retching, the stairs gave way to a familiar outside glow filtering in.
Sunlight scattered beautifully through drainage vents and air holes, mottling the dim cavern.
And dead ahead.
Flowing water, and above it—a vivid, multicolored rift hovering grandly.
The portal.
"It's real. First time seeing one, but that mesmerizing hue and unreal float match the texts."
"Skip the commentary and spot the gator."
"Harsh... It's right there anyway. The master of these sewers."
He pointed to the water's surface.
There it was, plain now that we'd missed it holding our breath.
A massive, violent, beautiful white bulk rising from below, eyeing the prey that walked into its lair.
"Whoa. How many wallets and bags did that thing eat?"