[Claude POV]
"You should tell me if that place is on the last floor!"
My voice echoed through the empty forest, raw with frustration. I kicked at the dirt, sending fallen leaves scattering.
"Damn it, this crappy dungeon played me for good!"
The anger bubbling inside me was partly directed at myself. Two months—I had wasted two entire months on the last floor, paralyzed by fear of what turned out to be a simple exit door.
The memories flooding my consciousness had warned of danger, but they'd been fragmented, contradictory. I'd overcompensated.
"AHHH!"
I stomped the ground again, my boots leaving deep impressions in the soft forest floor. The cool air filled my lungs as I tried to calm down, but the humiliation burned too hot.
"Damn it, what a bad service! They should put an exit notice if it's an exit door! At least have some emergency stairs too! Not to mention giving the floor some damn labels..."
The words spilled out in a torrent as I paced, my weapon box hanging heavily at my side. Each item inside represented hours of preparation—preparation that had been largely unnecessary.
"Damn it, who the hell creates such a strong monster at the gate? Is the dungeon maker crazy or something?" I ran my fingers through my sweat-matted hair. "I even took the time to go upstairs and gather all those materials and create more artifacts than I needed! Hell, even this weapon box has become a treasure box by now!"
I paused, looking down at the enchanted container. In truth, my paranoia had resulted in quite a haul.
The weapon box now contained artifacts and materials worth a small fortune—far more than I would have collected had I not been so cautious.
The monsters on the upper floors were weaker than those below—graded "C" by outside world standards, though they often traveled in flocks that could rival A-rank threats.
I'd systematically hunted them, using their materials to craft artifacts I was convinced I'd need to face the final guardian.
The ancient troll.
My fingers unconsciously traced the faint scar on my arm as fragments of memory surfaced. Not my memory—not exactly—but the memory of another Claude who had faced such a creature and failed.
In its prime, such a beast could rival dragons, decimate kingdoms. This one had been weakened by untold years without sunlight, its primary source of regenerative power. Even so, its strength had been formidable.
I exhaled slowly, the tension in my shoulders releasing as I admitted to myself: "...sigh, even if I don't have the experience, their memories are helping me deal with the monsters inside, huh..."
It was abnormal for someone like me—a 12-year-old boy—to emerge from such a dungeon alive. Not even an S-rank adventurer party could typically survive such a place in merely six months.
Each step I'd taken had been guided by whispers from alternate selves who had walked similar paths before me.
My fingertips glowed faintly with healing magic as I examined a small cut on my palm. The regenerative abilities I'd developed far exceeded what should be possible for a human my age.
The mana burst technique I'd perfected accelerated my metabolism, enhancing the speed and effectiveness of healing magic.
Such accelerated healing demanded nutrition. I had survived by consuming the monsters I'd slain, carefully preparing them with the extensive array of condiments I'd packed.
"I'm thankful for the condiments..." I muttered, patting the weapon box. "If there were no condiments that I'd prepared in advance, I'd definitely have had stomach sickness already... sigh..."
The forest around me gave no indication of which direction I should travel. Towering trees blocked out much of the sunlight, and the undergrowth showed no signs of paths or trails. I turned slowly, trying to spot any landmark that might orient me.
"Now... Where am I?"
The realization settled heavily on my shoulders. After all my careful planning, all my preparation, all my caution—I was lost.
[Rudeus POV]
Hello, I'm the former shut-in NEET Rudeus.
I'm currently enjoying my stay at what you might call a popular apartment with complimentary amenities. It features free parking and total security. The architecture is quite rustic—built using warm wood, something akin to Japanese beech.
Even the bed displays a certain rustic charm, with dried grass serving as a mattress and a rough, coarse blanket for comfort.
There is, I should mention, a minor drawback: the bugs consider themselves co-tenants.
A toilet facility is included within the room—essentially a hole in the floor. As someone with modern sensibilities regarding hygiene, I find this arrangement somewhat concerning. However, considering the bargain price (specifically, zero), one can't be too critical.
It's worth noting that meals are included—breakfast and dinner.
"Aam... augh..." I grimaced as I swallowed another spoonful of the slightly spoiled gruel they'd provided.
To anyone who's survived on the demon continent, though, it would taste practically gourmet.
Now, allow me to highlight the most impressive feature of my current accommodation: these firm wooden lattices.
They're so secure that no thief would even consider attempting entry. Ironically, criminals do get in here, though.
After all... it's a prison.
Through the latticed window, I could see the village sprawled among the forest trees—home to the Beastmen. Some had cat ears, others dog ears.
Children and adults alike lived harmoniously among the towering trees, gathering food from nature and the nearby river.
I watched as several of them returned from a fishing expedition, their catches glistening in the afternoon sun.
How did I end up here, you ask?
Well, that requires some explanation about my journey from the Demon continent...
It all began at the dock. Finding a ship willing to transport a Superd proved exceedingly difficult, so we sought alternative arrangements.
Specifically, a smuggler.
Through connections with a particularly shady individual, we secured passage for Ruijerd to the Millis Continent.
As we traveled from Wing Port to Zanto Port, we witnessed the smugglers' various atrocities. Child kidnapping featured prominently among their crimes.
They didn't stop at abduction—they tortured these children, preparing them for sale as slaves. Our honorable companion Ruijerd, true to his principles, refused to tolerate such barbarity. His response was swift and merciless.
What followed was nothing short of a massacre. The smugglers learned too late the consequences of provoking a Superd warrior's wrath.
None survived, and the captive Beastmen children were freed. Tragically, we were too late for some—several children had already perished at their captors' hands.
While Ruijerd and Eris escorted the survivors to town for medical treatment, I was tasked with rescuing what the children described as their "divine beast." I returned to the smugglers' hideout and discovered an enormous silver dog—fluffy beyond description.
Before releasing it, I'll admit I indulged myself. The fur was irresistible—I patted the creature, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, and may have hugged it with excessive fervor.
The divine beast tolerated my attention, but complications arose when adult Beastmen discovered us in this compromising position...
They immediately labeled me a pervert with unnatural interests in their sacred animal.
Seriously? I may appreciate furry aesthetics, but I draw a firm line at bestiality.
A confrontation ensued. I managed to hold my own against their leader, but the fight turned when additional Beastmen attacked from behind.
The outcome: my current accommodations, stripped of both dignity and clothing.
"This is a misunderstanding!" I'd insisted, but my protests fell on deaf ears.
So here I remain, naked and imprisoned, awaiting rescue from Eris and Ruijerd. I could easily pick the primitive lock and escape, but what then? I'm in the middle of an unfamiliar forest. Getting lost after escaping would hardly improve my situation.
Ah, someone approaches.
"Hey, I'm innocent! I didn't do anything! I just happened to know the kids were kidnapped..." I called out in the Beastmen language I'd learned from Ghislaine, but the female guard ignored my explanation.
Instead, she hurled a bucket of cold water at me, her expression twisted with disgust as she departed, muttering "you pervert" under her breath.
I lay back on the hard, dirty wooden floor. If people keep looking at me with such contempt over a misunderstood act of appreciation for soft fur, even my resilient self-esteem will eventually suffer.
I scratched another mark on the wooden pillar—day two of my imprisonment. The notch joined its predecessor, a primitive calendar of my confinement. I stared at the pillar, thoughts churning through various escape scenarios before discarding each as impractical.
Lying back on the floor, I watched a spider methodically constructing its web in the corner of my cell.
Outside, the world was vibrant green; inside, my prison cell remained relentlessly bleak. This "free apartment" was rapidly losing its charm.
Still, acting rashly would only complicate matters. The Beastmen clearly had no interest in my explanations. I found myself wondering what Claude would do in this situation.
That thought soured my mood further. Claude was probably back in Buena Village, enjoying time with my sister while I rotted in this cell.
Damn him.
Ah, right on schedule—the guard returned to dump another bucket of frigid water over me.
By the third day, my patience was wearing thin.
Ruijerd and Eris were taking an unusually long time. Had something gone wrong? Perhaps they'd encountered the elder who had been pursuing us...
No, I reassured myself. Those two wouldn't be easily defeated. There was no cause for panic.
Day four brought nothing but continued boredom.
On the fifth day, my solitude was finally interrupted. The cell door creaked open, and the guards shoved in another prisoner—a Beastman with simian features. Time to establish the proper prison hierarchy.
"Welcome to the last stop of your life," I drawled, affecting a casual pose despite my nakedness as I lay sideways on the bed.
The newcomer eyed me skeptically. "Well... why are you so arrogant despite being naked?"
His disrespect ignited a flare of indignation. "Hey, Newbie! Watch your mouth!"
"O-Okay..." he backpedaled, properly cowed by my authoritative tone.
"So? Why were you thrown in here?" I asked as he settled onto the floor, making himself as comfortable as the sparse conditions allowed.
"Well, they found out I was cheating in games."
"Oh, gambling, huh? Was it rock-paper-scissors? Or steel frame crossing?"
He looked confused. "What the heck is that? I cheated in dice games. What about you, senior?"
"I hugged a silver dog and then got thrown in here."
Recognition dawned in his eyes. "Oh, that was you? People have been talking about you. They said that the sacred beast of Doldia was attacked by the 'sex beast.'"
I winced internally. Who came up with that terrible pun?
"What's your name, Newbie?" I questioned my simian cellmate.
"I'm Geese," he replied while picking his nose with shameless abandon.
"I see. I'm Rudeus."
He paused his excavation, brow furrowing slightly. "I believe I heard that name somewhere."
"It's just a common name," I deflected. "You can find it anywhere."
"Haha, you're right," he conceded, flicking away his nasal discovery.
"But did you see a red-haired girl and a big bald guy nearby looking for me?" I asked, unable to keep the hope from my voice.
"Why are you suddenly being so polite? Stop that, Senior."
"I'm here due to a false charge!" I protested. "But it's taking my comrades forever to come and save me."
His expression shifted to one of pity—a look I found deeply unsettling.
"Well, how do I put it... I'm sorry to hear that."
I frowned at his tone. There was no need to look at me as though I were some abandoned child. My companions were surely occupied with important matters—reuniting the rescued children with their parents, perhaps. They would come for me soon enough.
They had to.
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