Dungeon Speedrun
The entrance to the dungeon resembled a massive gate. A perfectly square, simple frame large enough for five grown men to enter at once, it was an absolute black so deep and complete that it swallowed every scrap of light around it. No other structure stood nearby—only that single, door-like portal.
“Does this mean we can just go in?”
Aslan narrowed his eyes at the oddly shaped entrance and asked, but Rai gave the big man a look that said *why so many fears for your size?* and strode straight through first.
Behind him the passage was empty, yet when Rai vanished inside, Aslan—still cautious—followed without hesitation.
Inside, the dungeon was a labyrinth of narrow, twisting corridors that braided together like a spiderweb. The floor and walls looked artificial, but a faint, steady glow seeped from them, making the darkness far less oppressive than expected.
The first time Aslan had seen a dungeon, he kept touching the walls in wonder and wandered around, taking everything in. Rai, however, simply studied the map.
“Um… have either of you ever been inside a dungeon before?”
Cindy’s hesitant question made all three of them turn to her.
“I made it to the fifteenth floor,” she admitted. “As a porter, though.”
“No?” Aslan asked.
“Yeah. No? It might not be, or it might be.”
Zeroa had experience; Aslan was brand new. When Rai gave his cryptic answer, Cindy’s gaze lingered on Zeroa with open suspicion. Whether it was shared porter solidarity or the simple fact that Zeroa was the only reliable adult in the group, she kept glancing at him every time their path grew stranger.
Zeroa, for his part, couldn’t read Rai either.
When the other man shrugged and sent him a silent *if you give up, it’ll be fine*, Cindy’s face crumpled as though she might cry. She kept staring at Rai as he consulted the map, unable to understand why a straight line through an empty corridor was suddenly so complicated.
This man knew about dungeons, didn’t he? Even though Rai was terrifyingly strong, adventuring was more than just power—it was experience. Experience could save your life or ruin your reputation. Experience changed everything.
According to Rai, they’d reach the fortieth floor in three days. He’d brought only three days’ worth of supplies because he told them not to carry anything heavy.
The standard for competent adventurers was one day per ten floors. Even veterans who had cleared seventy or eighty floors took time to return to their own layers; a brand-new group had no idea how long it would take.
Even the veterans would balk at Rai’s demand to descend forty floors in three days. It wasn’t the gap between academy students and adventurers that was the problem. Dungeons drained stamina from every direction, and you had to stay at peak condition at all times. If you just sprinted, maybe three days would work—but what about the monsters that waited for tired parties?
Cindy had brought the expensive Return Stone anyway, yet she couldn’t shake her unease.
Adventurer parties ahead of them kept glancing sideways at the strange group of men walking together and moved aside. While Cindy and Zeroa apologized and cleared the way, Rai folded his map and kicked the floor once.
It looked like solid stone, but the dungeon’s construction was absurdly hard. Dust flew, leaving a small dent, yet the floor remained untouched.
“There’s a staircase down to the second floor that way.”
“… …”
Rai had been checking the map the entire time. When Cindy called out the obvious—after all, it was a maze, direction didn’t matter—he shot her a look that said he had no idea what she was talking about.
“Hah—”
Rai ignored the glare, walked toward the dented spot, and cupped his hands over his mouth to blow air into the hollow.
Because the passage was narrow, the wall blocked him completely. Without hesitation he punched it once.
*Boom!*
A hole large enough for one person to crawl through appeared. The dungeon walls weren’t ordinary rock. Zeroa and Cindy’s eyes widened while the clueless Aslan simply followed Rai through the new opening.
“This isn’t a strength-type build. Anyone can see you’re just smashing with brute force.”
“Advanced techniques can’t always be separated from raw power.”
“… … Not magic?”
“Kind of. Anyway, it’s a technique. A technique.”
While the two men chatted casually and stepped over the broken wall, Zeroa and Cindy remained frozen in place.
Stories existed of parties cornered by monsters who had punched through walls and survived, but even those groups could only make one small enough for a single person to slip through by piling on top of each other.
The tale above was the unfortunate story of a party that wiped out completely and barely rescued one survivor.
The dungeon’s construction was so durable it made steel look weak. Plowing straight through it was unthinkable. Yet from beyond the wall came another explosion.
No need to wonder—Rai was breaking walls again. Cindy’s dazed stare met Zeroa’s equally empty one this time.
“Hey! The wall’s reforming. Get over here fast!”
Rai’s shout sent both of them scrambling toward the closing gap.
Thanks to Rai’s wall-breaking advance, the party shot straight toward the staircase on the next floor. Normally they would have circled for an hour; now they covered the distance in five minutes. Cindy glanced at Zeroa, wondering if upper-rank adventurers used this same reckless shortcut.
Zeroa read her mind instantly and shook his head. He had never heard of anyone charging straight through like this.
Even straight-line progress meant no monster encounters. The first-floor creatures were weak and posed no threat, but dungeons were full of aggressive monsters.
The method looked stupid, yet it was fast and comfortable. Rai’s party descended floors in the blink of an eye.
“I’m exhausted today. I’m not fighting anymore.”
Only on the fourth floor did the first monster appear. Aslan, still carrying the grudge from the sewer incident, immediately dumped the entire task on Rai.
“You young guy’s stamina is shot, huh.”
“Not shot!”
“Haha, all stamina-challenged people always deny it. Fine, today we stop fighting. One drop of blood is precious.”
Rai ignored the monsters and punched another hole in the wall. Now too lazy to swing his fists, he simply stepped up and kicked the stone apart.
The monsters fled the instant they saw the destructive power. Unintelligent ones charged at Rai anyway and collapsed instantly. Cindy watched in confusion while Zeroa gave a bitter smile.
“Rai Instructor one-shotted them.”
“He… he attacked them?”
“Yeah. I only saw the monsters getting hit, so I’m not sure, but I think Instructor knocked them out.”
The claim sounded unbelievable, yet the monsters lay dead without a single twitch. No convulsions, no struggle—pure death.
Cindy examined the corpses while Zeroa guarded her, then followed him to the next wall.
“Um… is Rai Instructor some kind of… monk? Or a martial artist?”
Rai carried no weapon, and he had struck a monster from a distance where no normal attack could reach. Cindy wasn’t sure if it was a real strike or something else, but she knew he wasn’t using any item.
When Zeroa asked the question seriously, Cindy tilted her head.
“Perhaps… he’s a swordsman?”
“Not quite?”
“I’ve only seen him fight twice. But when he gives advice to other academy students, he seems to handle every weapon equally well. I only learned he’s good at martial arts today.”
Academy instructors didn’t train students’ martial arts, yet they occasionally offered tips on bad habits or general advice. Rai himself had stopped to lecture a few training students along the way.
Zeroa didn’t know much about the weapons students used, but the students who had received advice from Rai always nodded and discussed things in depth. Whenever they asked a question, Rai answered without hesitation.
Cindy, utterly bewildered, watched Rai and Aslan chatting lightly.
“Are all academy instructors this strong?”
“I don’t know everyone personally, but that guy is definitely strong.”
Remembering the assassin who had been cut down in one strike, Zeroa spoke.
Zeroa still couldn’t understand the technique. It wasn’t mana usage; Rai had simply swung in empty air, yet he performed something more magical than magic itself.
The range exceeded the sword’s limit, and the precision felt like it could cut through space itself.
Everyone in front of him had fallen.
Zeroa, having witnessed the feat with his own eyes, gazed at Rai’s back with pure admiration.
“An incredible person.”
“Yeah, I’m in a place I can never dream of reaching.”
Cindy turned to Zeroa, her expression softening. The pure, admiring eyes of the young boy felt more adventurous than any she had ever seen. She had thought his passive, clumsy appearance made him an unlikely adventurer, yet here he was—on this very journey.
While Cindy stared blankly at his face, Rai approached and shouted.
“Oi, he’s trying to flirt with you again, Cindy! Get over here!”
“Ah, no! What are you flirting with?!”
“Cindy, be careful. That innocent face is an act. He’s already seduced four academy students with it.”
Cindy looked at Rai with suspicion mixed with doubt. Zeroa panicked and shouted.
“N-no, Cindy! I don’t have those kinds of feelings at all!”
“Let’s go, let’s go. He’s about to start calling you his mother again with those pure-boy eyes. That’s all repertoire, repertoire. Soon he’ll be after the real food.”
Rai slung an arm around her shoulder and began walking, but Cindy shook him off. Her gaze remained full of doubt.
The noisy party kept descending straight to the thirtieth floor.
Seeing Rai break walls in a straight line and reach here in a single day, Cindy had no more surprise left. She wondered if this might be the fastest descent in guild history. Then she remembered Craosa’s parting words.
*Sorry, Mr. Craosa. There’s nothing left to learn…*
Precisely. Anyone could think of breaking walls, but few could actually do it. Even assembling A-rank adventurers to clear thirty floors in shifts would earn them a reputation as lunatics.
Plus, whether monsters or traps, Rai had taken them all out in one hit. Cindy’s party gained zero experience—nothing to show for the effort.
While Aslan grumbled that dungeons were boring because they only walked around, Cindy tried to calm her own frustration and began repacking their bags.
Dungeons were safest at the staircases that marked each floor. The party had decided to camp here after descending to the thirtieth floor. Rai had barely finished laying out his sleeping bag before he was snoring and eating cookies.
Aslan kept watch while stacking firewood from the tree monsters he had slain. Zeroa cooked with the fresh ingredients they had brought.
Seeing everyone else expertly prepare camp without Rai, Cindy realized they were indeed academy students.
As the party descended, corridors grew wider. By the thirtieth floor the passage had become the size of a grand hall. The light dimmed further until, without torches, the way ahead was almost impossible to see.
While Cindy stared into the deepening dark and planned the next three days, Zeroa announced that dinner was ready and called everyone over.
They had completed every task the dungeon offered today. As they gathered around the fire, Rai remained asleep in his sleeping bag. Zeroa served everyone bowls of thick, fragrant soup.
Thanks to the impossible three-day schedule, all ingredients were fresh. The soup Zeroa had made with his special seasoning and the meat tasted incredible.
Cindy, a beginner porter with no money or experience, had never eaten real meals on an adventure before. She had either gone hungry for a single-day request or survived on preservation rations that tasted like nothing.
Now she finally understood what real experience felt like. She took a spoonful of the glowing yellow soup and looked at Zeroa beside her in surprise.
“It’s delicious. I know this sounds weird, but it tastes… familiar. Delicious.”
“Familiar? It’s my mother’s secret recipe. After every job, I’d come home and the smell of her soup would reach the front door even from outside.”
Zeroa smiled fondly and stirred his soup.
“Look at me. I’m always right, aren’t I? You seduce people with food. Rookie move. When your rest is over, warn the kids to be careful around you.”
“Aw! No!”
Zeroa protested, but Aslan’s eyes turned suspicious. Watching Zeroa’s flustered denial and Rai’s mocking grin, Cindy let out a small laugh.
While the warm dinner continued, Zeroa remembered Rai’s comment about “technique” and asked.
“Is breaking walls difficult?”
“Difficult? It’s just a wall.”
Aslan, who knew nothing about dungeons, answered. Zeroa shook his head and explained how incredibly sturdy the construction was.
When Aslan finished listening, he poked the floor in amazement.
“Amazing… it feels like something from another world.”
“You better study. Don’t you have anything upstairs?”
Rai teased Aslan while secretly stealing his meat.
“We call this world the Material Realm. The fifth world. You know that, right?”
“Of course. When I was little, my grandfather explained it to me at the temple.”
Different cultures had different gods, but many festivals overlapped. One of them was explaining the creation of the world and myths to children in temples. Regardless of noble or commoner, once a certain age everyone gathered to hear the high priest’s words.
Zeroa saw Aslan call the priest “grandfather” and felt a bitter smile tug at his lips.
“Yeah, there are five worlds. Starting with the Material Realm we live in, then the Bond Realm, Mental Realm, Void Realm, and finally the Divine Realm where the gods exist.”
“That much I know.”
“You’d better know. If you don’t, someone will question your intelligence. Excluding the Material Realm, the other worlds are basically infinite. Dungeons sit right in the middle of the Material Realm and the Mental Realm—the Bond Realm.”
“So we just jumped dimensions?”
Aslan, who knew about magic, believed dimension-jumping was impossible. Humans couldn’t do it, and even natural occurrences were rare.
The existence of the dungeon itself could open new dimensions or generate randomly like the one in Regandia.
“Dungeons don’t actually exist,” Zeroa corrected. “The monsters that come out aren’t born—they’re created.”
“So they have infinite energy?”
Even though he was an academy student, Aslan’s deep reasoning left Cindy, a normal adventurer, completely lost.
Rai nodded at Aslan’s endless-energy question.
“Right. The Bond Realm sits on the line between the Mental Realm and the Material Realm. You can draw on the infinite energy of the Mental Realm and copy the thoughts of the Material Realm to create life. That’s why sometimes monsters look like humans. No technique, no mana—just raw creation.”
“Whoa, that sounds fun.”
“Yeah. You can just throw them around without hesitation.”
It was a terrifying idea, yet Aslan burned with excitement. Cindy saw Zeroa’s faint smile and realized something strange was happening among these people.
The long explanation ended. While the others cleared the dishes, Zeroa asked the question again.
“Can I learn the technique of breaking walls too?”
Cindy’s ears perked up.
If the skill was easy to learn—or even if it was difficult now but could be practiced—adventurers’ exploration power would multiply. For anyone who had to spend days revisiting floors, Rai’s technique was worth gold.
“I can teach you. It’s a difficult technique because it requires reading opponent moves, but with practice even if you can’t use it right away, you’ll get there.”
Rai spoke casually, yet all three stared at him expectantly. His eyes narrowed into a smile.
“I’m not going to teach you, though.”
“Cruel.”
“Between you two, maybe. Not Cindy.”
Startled, Cindy recovered quickly and asked carefully.
“Because I’m not an academy student?”
“Of course it’s because you’re not. But you’re an adventurer.”
“… … Because I’m an adventurer…?”
Cindy had thought he was extraordinary from his actions, yet seeing him discriminate by profession made a faint spark of anger flare in her eyes.
“But… aren’t there any other people who can use it?”
Zeroa laughed awkwardly and jumped in. Rai, still lying down, tilted his head to look at him.
“Right. The majority of people who enter dungeons are adventurers. So what?”
“Wouldn’t it be helpful…?”
“Helpful? It would be huge. Faster exploration, more materials, tons of money. So?”
“…”
Rai’s teasing question left Zeroa speechless.
Rai shifted his gaze to Aslan and Cindy and spoke.
“You’re all under a misunderstanding. I’m not keeping this secret because I want to hoard the technique or demand payment. Some sloppy wall-breaking method that can only be used for breaking walls can be thrown around freely.”
The three of them stared silently at Rai, who had called magic “sloppy.”
“I’m not teaching Cindy because you three lack growth.”
“… … What do you mean?”
“You lack growth. Whether ten years ago or a hundred, it’s the same. You just run in, punch with your bare hands, get experience, and laugh like idiots. Then you die and get called veterans. That’s not it. That’s not funny.”
Rai mocked them, yet Cindy and Zeroa—both former adventurers—had no idea what he was angry about.
“Of course it is. Experience is every adventurer’s greatest asset.”
“Right! It’s an asset. You selfish bastards. When you hoard assets and level-grind and pile up gold, you let the talentless kids die in droves.”
“The guild trains new members.”
“With only one or two biased instructors? How much will you learn? And that training only lasts a week?”
Cindy shut her mouth. The guild gave new adventurers three days of training. She had learned only basic etiquette and common sense; it hadn’t helped much in real adventures.
Zeroa, who had experienced both academy and adventuring, finally understood what Rai meant.
“You have no records. No records. The most important thing to make a being with knowledge grow—nothing. You hide your know-how and call it an asset, then tell people on a life-or-death mission to just charge in. What are you trying to do?”
“…”
“On the battlefield, do commanders ever say to their soldiers, ‘I’ve scouted the enemy. They’re insanely strong. This is my hard-won asset, I’m not telling you’? If such a commander was beside me, I’d have stabbed him in the side myself.”
While Cindy remained silent, Rai crawled back into his sleeping bag and added, “Of course I know things are different. For a personal adventurer, knowledge and experience are precious. Everyone is a rival, everyone is competition. But at least you have to keep them alive. How long are you going to hide them? A guy who reaches the hundredth floor—why does he have business at the thirtieth? A goblin-slayer worrying about goblins? You adventurers should share even that kind of useless knowledge.”
Rai’s criticism of the closed, experience-obsessed adventurer society—despite it being the most free profession—left Cindy stunned.
“Knowledge shared by many people. Records and transmission. That’s education. Have you learned? You lucky academy students who get to learn the hard-won knowledge of ancient sages easily.”
Aslan and Zeroa, who had just been scolded, turned their faces away.
Rai had ruined the once-happy atmosphere with one sentence. He pulled his sleeping bag over his head and fell asleep. The remaining three stared into the fire, lost in deep thought.
The dungeon’s secrets had been laid bare, and the party’s speedrun had just begun.