Simultaneously, in a temporarily cleared safe corner deep within the dim and oppressive Twenty-Fourth Floor of the Dungeon.
Having endured a long period of high-intensity continuous combat and a grueling trek, the members of Dawnblade were gasping for air.
Sweat and dust mingled, caking onto their tense faces, and their eyes could not hide their deep exhaustion.
The air was thick with the heavy scent of blood, the rank musk of monsters, and the stench of sweat.
Seeing this, Monica, who was accompanying them, couldn’t help but remind Liz.
“It’s about time for a break and a reset.”
Liz looked at her team members, who were on the verge of collapse, and her brow furrowed slightly.
“You all still train far too little during your daily routines.”
Jessica really wanted to say that as a Mage, she didn’t exactly need to develop an eight-pack…
But seeing Liz’s icy expression, she ultimately kept her mouth shut.
At this moment, they were very close to the final Room where the Floor Lord resided.
As long as nothing went wrong, this adventure would be considered a successful, albeit perilous, completion.
That thought allowed Jessica’s taut nerves to relax slightly.
She sat down and continued flipping through Red’s Notes.
Looking at Red’s handwriting, her expression was a complicated mix of emotions—perhaps regret, perhaps remorse—and she eventually let out a sigh.
Right now, they were relying on Red’s strategy to clear this Twenty-Fourth Floor… but what would they do after this?
No matter how much Dawnblade tried to avoid the subject, there was one point they couldn’t deny: for the group to have made it this far, Red’s incredibly precise guidance and the help of those “cheese” items were the true keys to their success.
She knew this very well; she just didn’t know if Liz understood it.
However, turning to look at Liz’s stubborn gaze… perhaps Liz just wanted to prove herself?
The problem was that without the suggestions Red had provided—specifically that Specialized Perfume—they would likely still be entangled with that massive pack of Spiny Hyenas for who knew how long.
This method, which was practically like skipping the hard work, had indeed provided Dawnblade with significant assistance.
Red had already left, yet even now, it seemed the group had not broken free from this dependency.
Monica was gnawing on a piece of rock-hard beef jerky, her cheeks bulging in a way that looked somewhat cute and dorky.
As she chewed, she spoke indistinctly.
“So hard… tastes terrible… my mouth can’t take it anymore…”
“…Shut up.”
Hearing Monica say these things, Liz’s face darkened.
She knew this woman was definitely doing it on purpose.
“We’ve been eating dry rations for four consecutive days…”
Monica groaned.
“Does no one here know how to cook?”
Back in Judgment Holy Night, while they didn’t necessarily have hot dishes every single day, they could at least manage one every three days.
After all, no matter the circumstances, a piping hot meal could effectively alleviate the oppressive atmosphere within the Dungeon and allow one’s mood to relax.
In short, eating hot food in the dark, cold Dungeon was, in itself, a form of stress relief.
How could Liz not understand this principle?
Physical fatigue could be recovered with a brief rest, and external wounds could be healed with Potions and spells… but that pervasive mental pressure, which seeped into the marrow like a cold, damp mist, was not so easily dismissed.
Stress was something that always accumulated silently, gradually eating away at one’s will until they stepped into madness.
“And besides, Liz…”
Monica’s voice carried a hint of mischief.
“didn’t you guys even bring pots and pans down with you?”
She looked pointedly at Jessica’s luggage.
Everyone subconsciously followed Monica’s gaze.
Sure enough, tucked away in Jessica’s gear were the pots and pans used for cooking.
“You know how to cook?”
Liz looked at Jessica with a sliver of disbelief mixed with a faint glimmer of hope.
Jessica was stunned by the question, then shook her head somewhat awkwardly.
“No.”
“Then why did you bring that stuff?”
Hearing this answer, Liz spoke with a touch of irritation.
“Our luggage is already heavy enough. Don’t you think those things are just dead weight?”
“If we toss the beef jerky into water and boil it, it’ll at least count as a bowl of beef soup, right?”
***
Everyone present, if they were in the outside world, came from distinguished backgrounds and was used to being pampered.
Especially when Jessica actually pulled out a small pot, poured in cold Magic-created water, and tossed those few pieces of hard, dusty-looking beef jerky inside… watching them bob up and down like desperate stones in the clear, oil-free “soup” water…
A wave of inexplicable misery washed over them.
“Does anyone want some?”
“…Give me a bowl.”
Liz spoke in a low voice, carrying a sort of weary resignation.
Soon, everyone held a bowl of warm—or rather, a bowl of water with a few pieces of beef jerky that had been boiled slightly softer but still tasted like chewing wax.
Between the long trek and the dark, oppressive environment, the difficulty of Liz’s emphasis on “going from luxury to frugality” was now laid bare before everyone, so heavy it made them feel suffocated.
Jessica took a sip and slowly set the bowl aside.
The taste… was simply indescribable.
She didn’t even want to imagine how desperate things would be if their future days were like this.
Her entire resolve would likely be put to the test!
Thinking of this, Jessica stole a glance at Liz out of the corner of her eye, hesitating for a long time.
But in the end, she didn’t speak.
If she could successfully return from this trip, she really wanted to go find Red.
Look at Letia?
Look at Litt?
Weren’t they all above ground right now, eating and drinking well, enjoying themselves?
Why was she here suffering like this?
Just then, Monica suddenly felt an extremely cold and malicious gaze.
As an elite of Judgment Holy Night who had survived countless battles, her perception—far exceeding that of an ordinary person—instantly triggered a maximum-level alarm!
This gaze… was definitely not from the monsters of the Dungeon that followed their instincts.
It was from a person.
A presence hidden in the shadows, with unknown motives, yet radiating pure malice.
What made her heart sink even further was that this person hiding in the dark… at a conservative estimate, their strength was definitely not inferior to her own.
A battle was unavoidable, but the problem was…
Monica’s gaze quickly swept over the exhausted, struggling members of Dawnblade.
In a confrontation of this level, not only would they be unable to help, but they would become fatal liabilities.
Without them, she would actually have a much better chance of winning.
Thinking of this, Monica gripped her White Spear and spoke to Liz.
“I have some personal business to handle. Wait for me here for a moment.”
She deliberately used the vague excuse of “personal business” to avoid causing unnecessary panic.
Although Liz’s mind was filled with suspicion, Monica was not her subordinate.
She had no right to interfere with the other woman’s actions and could only nod quickly.
“Fine. Go and come back quickly.”
Time ticked away, second by second, in the oppressive silence.
Only the faint, eerie sound of the wind from the depths of the Dungeon and the slight noise of the team members occasionally adjusting their positions echoed through the safe zone.
Liz’s fingertips unconsciously tapped against the cold Rock Wall, the frequency getting faster and faster.
Her patience was like sand in an hourglass, being rapidly exhausted by this suffocating wait.
An unknown sense of anxiety tangled around her heart like vines.
“What on earth is she doing?”
Liz’s voice carried an irrepressible irritability as she broke the silence, her sharp gaze sweeping toward Jessica and Bethany.
The two girls looked at each other blankly, seeing the same confusion in each other’s eyes.
They could only shake their heads helplessly, indicating they didn’t know.
“Tch…”
Liz glanced at the time.
If they continued to delay, more variables might arise.
She quickly tore off a piece of note paper, scribbled a line of text, and slapped the note onto a rock next to Jessica with a thwack before standing up.
“We’re moving,” she said decisively, her voice leaving no room for argument.
“We’re heading forward. With Monica’s strength, she’ll catch up once she’s finished. This won’t delay us.”
Jessica really wanted to say that her Magic hadn’t fully recovered yet, but seeing Liz’s icy eyes, she could only silently swallow her words.