Bell Cranel and Ottar stood amidst the crumbling remains of the 79th floor, their bodies aching with fatigue. The last battle against the Dullahan had pushed them to their limits, and though they had emerged victorious, the toll it had taken on them was evident. Bell could feel the exhaustion deep in his bones, and he knew that even Ottar, the mighty Boaz warrior, was nearing the end of his endurance.
"We need to rest," Bell said, his voice hoarse. "We won't last much longer if we keep pushing like this."
Ottar, his armor dented and scorched from the fierce battles they had fought, nodded in agreement. "You're right. But where? This place offers no respite."
''We'll move to the 18th floor just hold tight'' And wiht that Bell clasped his hands together and had Ottar place his hand onto his shoulder and prepared to teleport them both to the 18th floor. ''There we can rest and recover." Bell spoke in a tired tone.
Ottar looked at Bell with a mixture of surprise and relief. "You were prepared for everything, it seems."
Bell gave a weary smile. "I try to be."
After that, he activated the technique, and in an instant, the world around them dissolved into a swirl of light and shadows. When the light faded, they found themselves standing on the 18th floor, in the heart of the vast forest that filled the level.
The 18th Floor:
The 18th floor was a stark contrast to the depths they had just escaped. The air was warm, filled with the scents of fresh earth and blooming flowers. The sky above was a calming shade of blue, with a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves of the massive trees. It was a place of peace and tranquility, a sanctuary amidst the chaos of the dungeon.
Bell and Ottar made their way to a nearby stream, where they could wash away the grime of battle and tend to their wounds. Bell splashed the cool water on his face, feeling the tension slowly ebb away. Ottar, though battered, seemed to regain some of his strength as he drank deeply from the stream.
They set up a small camp near the water's edge, using what supplies they had left to prepare a simple meal. As they ate, the two warriors shared a moment of quiet camaraderie, their usual roles as rivals and allies blurred by the trials they had faced together.
"We've come a long way," Bell said, staring into the flickering flames of their campfire. "But I can't shake the feeling that the dungeon isn't done with us yet."
Ottar looked up, his expression serious. "The dungeon is alive, Bell. It knows we're here, and it doesn't take kindly to those who challenge its depths. We should be prepared for anything."
Bell nodded, his thoughts drifting to the battles that awaited them. Despite the calm of the 18th floor, he knew they couldn't let their guard down. The dungeon was merciless, and it would not allow them to rest in peace for long.
After their meal, they lay down on the soft grass, allowing themselves a few hours of much-needed sleep. The forest around them was quiet, the only sound the gentle trickle of the stream. For a brief moment, it felt like they were far away from the dangers of the dungeon, in a place where they could let their defenses down.
Bell awoke suddenly, his instincts screaming a warning. He sat up, his hand instinctively ready for his battle. Ottar was already on his feet, his axe at the ready, his eyes scanning the surrounding forest.
The peaceful atmosphere of the 18th floor had shifted. The air was thick with tension, and the ground beneath them began to tremble. Bell's heart raced as he realized what was happening.
"The dungeon," he muttered, "it's angry."
The tremors grew stronger, and from the depths of the forest, a terrifying roar echoed across the floor. The trees shook violently as a massive shape emerged from the shadows—a Juggernaut, the dungeon's living embodiment of vengeance. Its massive claws gleamed in the dim light, and its red eyes burned with a fury that matched the dungeon's malice.
But it wasn't alone. From all directions, more Juggernauts appeared, their bodies moving with unnatural speed and ferocity. And then, the ground cracked open, and from the depths of the earth, a colossal figure began to rise.
The Black Goliath—a monstrous giant with jet-black skin and burning red eyes—towered over the forest, its immense body radiating raw power. It was a creature of legend, a nightmare born from the dungeon's deepest hatred for those who dared to challenge it.
Bell and Ottar were surrounded.
Bell's blood surged with adrenaline, his exhaustion forgotten in the face of the overwhelming threat. He stood beside Ottar, who had taken a defensive stance, his axe gleaming with magical energy. They were outnumbered, but they were not outmatched.
Bell glanced at Ottar, determination burning in his mismatched eyes. "We end this here. No more running. No more hiding. We fight, and we win."
Ottar nodded, his grip tightening on his axe. "Agreed. Let's show the dungeon what we're made of."
With a battle cry, Bell charged forward, his body moving with lightning speed. He leaped into the air, his fist glowing with the familiar crimson light of his cursed technique reversal. "Red!" he shouted, unleashing a devastating blast that tore through the first Juggernaut, reducing it to dust.
But the other Juggernauts were relentless. They closed in from all sides, their claws slashing through the air with deadly precision. Bell dodged and weaved between their attacks, his movements a blur as he countered with powerful strikes of his own.
Ottar was a whirlwind of destruction beside him, his axe cleaving through the Juggernauts with brutal efficiency. His movements were slower than before, his fatigue evident, but his sheer willpower kept him fighting. The two warriors moved as one, their synergy honed through countless battles.
As they fought, the Black Goliath lumbered toward them, its massive fists smashing through the forest with earth-shattering force. Bell knew they couldn't afford to let the giant get close. He turned to Ottar, shouting over the roar of the battle.
"I'll take down the Goliath! Hold off the Juggernauts!"
Ottar didn't hesitate. "Go! I'll cover you!"
With a nod, Bell sprinted toward the Black Goliath, his heart pounding with overwhelmingly high levels of excitement. The ground shook beneath the giant's steps, but Bell didn't falter. He summoned all of his strength, his cursed energy surging through his body.
The Goliath roared as it raised its fist to crush Bell, but he was faster. He leaped into the air, ascending to the giant's height. "Lapse Blue!" he cried, using his technique to draw the Goliath's massive head toward him. The force was overwhelming, but Bell's resolve was stronger.
With a mighty swing, Bell delivered a crushing blow to the Goliath's head, the impact sending shockwaves through the dungeon. The giant staggered, its eyes flickering as it tried to stay upright. But Bell wasn't done. He summoned his energy once more, his body glowing with a brilliant light.
"This ends now!" Bell shouted, pouring all of his power into one final attack. He unleashed a devastating flurry of blows, each strike shattering the Goliath's defenses until, with a final, earth-shattering punch, he brought the behemoth down. The Black Goliath collapsed to the ground, its body crumbling into black dust.
Bell landed gracefully, breathing heavily but otherwise unscathed. He turned back to see Ottar finishing off the last of the Juggernauts, his armor dented but his spirit unbroken. The dungeon's wrath had been fierce, but they had emerged victorious.
The battlefield fell silent, the only sound the heavy breathing of the two warriors. Bell looked around at the carnage they had wrought, the adrenaline slowly fading as the reality of their triumph set in. They had faced the dungeon's fury and won.
Ottar walked over to Bell, his steps heavy but purposeful. "You did it, Bell. You faced the Black Goliath and won."
Bell smiled, his exhaustion finally catching up to him. "We did it, Ottar. We fought together, and we won."
The 18th floor began to return to its peaceful state, the trees and grass slowly recovering from the destruction. But the news of their battle would spread quickly. As they made their way back to the main camp, they could already see adventurers gathering, their eyes wide with awe and admiration.
Among them were members of the Loki Familia, their expressions a mixture of respect and curiosity. Even the high-ranked members—Ais Wallenstein, Tiona, Tione, Lefiya and even Riveria—watched Bell with newfound interest, their gazes lingering on him as he walked by.
Bell could feel their attention, but there was no time for greetings or conversations. They had faced the dungeon's wrath and emerged victorious, but they needed to return to the surface and recover.
As they left the 18th floor, Bell was unscathed, his confidence bolstered by his victory. Ottar walked beside him, his armor dented but his pride intact. They had proven themselves not only as warriors but as heroes, and the legend of their battle would soon spread throughout Orario.