The Calamity Dragon Girl
Princess Iris's team was the strongest. As if to prove that statement, they swept through the floors of the Demon Palace like a raging tempest.
Their current destination was the third floor, known as the Weeping Sky. High above the dark storm clouds, two massive eyes remained tightly shut, weeping endless tears that fell to the ground as a torrential downpour.
So that's an Apostle.
It was the True Apostle of the Weeping Sky—an entity destined to be born when this floor underwent its eventual transformation.
I'll have to deal with that thing later, too.
But now was not the time. I decided to let it go for now.
"We're practically catching up to the third-years at this rate," Dorara, the runner-up of the Magic Engineering department, snickered as he trotted along behind us through the rain.
Perhaps because his self-esteem had been thoroughly crushed by Sharin, he seemed to take immense pleasure in boasting like this. Still, his skills were undeniable. The only reason he had seemed so pathetic before was because his compatibility with me was terrible, and I knew every single one of his bad habits and weaknesses. As expected of the department's runner-up, the wind magic he conjured was incredibly fierce.
"Ugh, being stuck in here for days is driving me absolutely insane," groaned Barentia, the curse-weaver, who was currently clinging to Yoachim's back.
Time and space were distorted inside the Demon Palace. This phenomenon only grew more severe the deeper one descended. While time on the first floor flowed similarly to the outside world, everything changed from the second floor onward. Relative to a single day in the outside world, three days passed on the second floor, seven days on the third floor, and fifteen days on the fourth floor.
This meant that even if we spent a long time in the lower floors of the Demon Palace, barely any time would pass on the surface. By the labyrinth's standards, we had already spent several days inside. On the third floor alone, we had been traveling for three days.
"I find it more surprising that a curse-weaver hates gloomy places," Dorara scoffed.
"Ugh, please don't stereotype curse-weavers like that!" Barentia whined in response to his teasing.
Watching the two of them bicker, I looked down at my hands. Despite having descended all the way to the third floor of the Demon Palace, I felt virtually no physical fatigue. It was only natural, given that I was occupying the body of that stamina monster, Vikaman, and had recently survived Aisha's hellish training regimen.
The real problem, however, lay elsewhere. Impersonating Hania is way harder than I thought.
Conversing with them wasn't the issue; I just had to spout whatever relevant knowledge I had. Conversations between academy students were naturally limited in scope anyway. Above all, Hania was a prominent supporting character, so I already knew a great deal about her. Acting like her was the easy part. The real struggle lay in a completely different area.
I quietly clicked my tongue, staring at the sword in my hand. Hania was the runner-up of the Martial Arts department. Naturally, her skills were leagues above those of ordinary martial arts students. Her weapon of choice was a longsword, and her swordsmanship was so precise that even Van, the lazy genius, acknowledged it. It was a masterpiece forged from her innate talent and blood-sweating effort.
The problem was that I had never used a sword in my life. How could a guy who had spent his entire life fighting with his fists suddenly swing a blade properly?
Thanks to my recent training, the sword doesn't wobble in my grip, but...
Perhaps because I was so used to fighting with my bare hands and knife-hand strikes, I couldn't gauge the weapon's reach properly. A sword's cutting power varied wildly depending on the angle of the swing. Lacking the muscle memory to execute this precisely, I kept making clumsy mistakes. Eventually, I gave up trying to cut things and just started swinging the sword like a blunt mace.
Ugh, I am never picking up a sword again after this.
Hands were definitely superior to tools.
"Hania, are you feeling under the weather lately?" Barentia suddenly asked.
Although the Bandage of the Veil made me look exactly like Hania, these people were comrades who had fought alongside her for a long time. To their sharp eyes, my movements were bound to seem off.
"Hmm... Your movements are much rougher than usual, and you seem somewhat unrefined."
I wondered how she could even see anything when her eyes were completely covered by her bangs.
"Hmm, indeed. I, too, have sensed a difference over the past few days," Yoachim agreed.
The team's attention naturally drifted toward me. Even Princess Iris glanced in my direction. From this point on, even Iris couldn't help me. I didn't want to arouse any unnecessary suspicion before Nikita made her move. If Nikita caught wind that something was off with Iris's team and decided to call off her ambush, it would ruin all my plans.
"Well, the thing is..."
I had to find a way out of this. Fortunately, right before entering the Demon Palace, I had experienced something so horrific that it would easily explain an extreme drop in condition.
"...Before we entered the Demon Palace, Associate Professor Barcop confessed his love to me."
"Ah."
"Oh, dear God..."
Deep, heavy sighs escaped Barentia and Yoachim. Everyone was well aware of how utterly dreadful Associate Professor Barcop was.
"Uh, well... just take it easy and rest in the back for a bit," even the notoriously ill-tempered Dorara muttered, looking at me with profound pity.
I offered them a strained, weary smile. Sympathy flickered in everyone's eyes. Who knew that piece of trash Barcop would actually come in handy? I'm still not thanking him, though.
"Let's keep moving," Princess Iris said, stepping forward once she saw I had successfully defused the situation. I could see a faint smirk tugging at the corners of her lips, but I chose to ignore it.
"We're almost done with the third floor."
We had already slain three Apostles on this floor alone, and the number of demonic beasts we had slaughtered was beyond count. It made me realize all over again just how monstrously powerful Iris's team truly was.
Yoachim, the combat priest, held his holy book in his left hand while pulverizing enemies into paste with his right hand alone. Even in the heat of battle, he healed any injured teammates instantly.
Barentia, the debuff specialist, unleashed her curses the very instant an enemy appeared. She had roughly ten thousand curses at her disposal. Caught in her relentless storm of hexes, the enemies were rendered utterly powerless in the blink of an eye. As for Iris and Dorara, their destructive power went without saying.
What a bunch of monsters.
If the real Hania were here to complete the lineup, they would be absolutely flawless. Yet, even this formidable team had been unable to defeat Nikita after she became the Calamity Dragon Girl. To overcome her, Lucas—and his Flame of Fighting Spirit—was an absolute necessity.
Especially on the fourth floor.
That place was practically tailored to be the perfect environment for the Calamity Dragon Girl.
"Let's go down," Princess Iris commanded, leading the way.
While putting the Third Princess at the vanguard of a dungeon raid might seem questionable, the truth was that if a threat was dangerous enough to harm Iris, no one else in this team stood a chance of surviving it anyway.
Inside the pitch-black abyss, a flight of pristine white stairs stretched endlessly downward. The staircase consisted of nothing but floating steps, making the descent look dizzying at a glance.
"Haha, I believe we might set a new record this time," Yoachim chuckled.
"We have to push through quickly. Especially after that embarrassing showing during the group match," Dorara added.
I could hear them chatting behind me. Indeed, our clearing speed was incredibly fast.
If it weren't for Nikita, they could probably make it all the way to the sixth floor.
In the next Demon Palace raid, they would likely become the first second-years to reach the seventh floor. Of course, there was a fundamental reason why Iris couldn't descend too deep into the Demon Palace.
"Hania," Princess Iris called out to me just then.
Dark circles shadowed her eyes. Ever since we entered the Demon Palace, she had barely slept. Though she had always suffered from chronic insomnia, her condition was severely exacerbated by the influence of the Evil Zone permeating the entire labyrinth.
The power of the Evil Zone was engraved upon her very soul. This mark resonated with the malevolent energy of the Demon Palace, intensifying her nightmares to an unbearable degree. Consequently, Iris was exceptionally vulnerable inside the labyrinth. Unless they cleared the floors at breakneck speed, her combat capabilities would rapidly deteriorate over time.
But if she had Lucas and his Flame of Fighting Spirit...
He could have banished the nightmares plaguing her in the Demon Palace. That was precisely why Iris had recruited Lucas into her team during their first year. Of course, back then, his Flame of Fighting Spirit had not yet fully awakened, so they hadn't achieved any spectacular results, leading her to exclude him from the subsequent raid.
And that was where Lucas met his end.
It was a tragedy that left Iris with nothing but deep regret.
As I am now, I cannot cure her nightmares.
Thus, with each passing day, Iris grew more physically and mentally exhausted.
"Yes, Lady Iris," I said, stepping closer.
She gave me a subtle look. "It's almost time."
Nikita's team had been the first to enter the Demon Palace during this raid. She was already waiting on the fourth floor, fully prepared for our arrival.
Because the moment Iris's team steps foot on the fourth floor, she will make sure no reinforcements can reach them.
It was a trap meticulously laid out, anticipating that Iris's team would outpace even the third-years.
"We must prepare," Princess Iris murmured, nodding.
Her figure was the first to blur and vanish into the transition portal. Seeing this, I immediately followed suit.
Thud!
Soon, our surroundings began to warp. A wave of inexplicable nausea washed over my body—clear proof that we had crossed over into the fourth floor of the Demon Palace.
A biting chill pierced through my entire body.
Crunch.
The sound of snow compressing beneath my boots echoed as I slowly raised my head. We stood upon a blanket of pristine white snow. Frozen duckweed and water hyacinths of solid ice carpeted the ground. In this dimly lit, eerie space, intricate ice sculptures were scattered everywhere. Wisps of white breath escaped my lips in the freezing air.
The fourth floor of the Demon Palace: the Ice Garden. The plummeting temperature rapidly chilled my body to the bone. But the real danger was just beginning.
"Everyone, get back!" I roared, grabbing Princess Iris and lunging forward.
Rumble!
A deafening sound echoed from above, and something massive plummeted from the ceiling.
CRASH!
An colossal wall of solid ice slammed down directly behind us.
"Whoa!"
"Kyaaa!"
Yoachim grabbed both Barentia and Dorara, leaping backward with a massive bound. Thanks to his quick reflexes, all three managed to avoid being crushed beneath the falling ice.
"W-what on earth is going on?!" Dorara stammered, looking back in sheer panic.
Through the swirling cloud of snow and ice dust, a wall of ice of absurd thickness blocked our path. The passage connecting the third and fourth floors of the Demon Palace had been completely sealed off.
Bewilderment washed over everyone's faces. This was a crisis no one could have anticipated—except for Iris and me.
I slowly raised my eyes. Beyond the path leading deeper into the Ice Garden, I could feel an ominous, chilling aura creeping toward us.
It has begun.
To avenge her brother's death, the Calamity Dragon Girl, Nikita Cynthia, had finally made her move.