The first ten armadillos died as soon as I got serious. Only someone with a powerful Imra and a sensory ability could slowly take down these monsters. They’re fast and their claws are extremely lethal—the problem is their speed. If you can dodge them, everything becomes manageable. In the end, it turns boring and monotonous.

  That was my thought at the beginning. I decided to push forward without thinking too much, and now I’m in a bit of trouble, dodging dozens upon dozens of monsters trying to pierce me. Their claws swing from side to side, aiming to perforate my body.

  Their movements are highly coordinated. Somehow they know exactly when to attack and where to strike. Their coordination is impressive—most likely some kind of ability or something tied to their Imra. It’s impossible to tell while in constant motion.

  I can’t stop for even a moment. In such a confined space, I’m forced to keep moving. In an open field, I wouldn’t have any problem. I increase the gravity pressure to gain a bit of ground in the fight.

  I’ve been using my abilities almost at the minimum. I’m a little worried about running out of mana and then running into a strong monster or a limit breaker, but this moment calls for a small expenditure. As gravity increases, the monsters are caught off guard and their movements become clumsier. That lets me kill a few of them with quick slashes.

  “Huh?” I let out a surprised sound.

  I hadn’t felt it before—the mana density is stronger than normal. My pool must be filling faster than usual. I won’t have problems using more than planned. A small smile forms as more electric currents begin to dance around me, lashing at anything in their path.

  It doesn’t matter whether it’s monsters or rocks—the lightning dances wildly, striking everything. I’m not very focused on control right now. I’m letting the ability flow however it wants. There are so many monsters around me that precise control isn’t necessary.

  I notice something different in their Imra—they’re more cautious. Another thing I realized recently is how fragile their defenses are when I try to read their emotions. They’re definitely playing their Imras to be oppressive, and their defenses are strong if I try to break their connection or suppress their willpower, but something different happens with their emotional defenses.

  I can clearly read everyone’s emotional state because they mostly move as a single unit. If I focus, I can know exactly how they feel. They’re being more cautious now—not enough to stop attacking or to run away, but they’re looking at me differently, as more dangerous.

  I leap toward the ceiling, then rebound like a spring toward a side wall to dodge their attacks. Along the way, three more fall. Their slowed movements make everything easier—they’re moving targets right now. They won’t reach me as long as I don’t make a mistake.

  Their numbers drop quickly. It’s a pleasant surprise not to see them calling for help. I can feel many more dozens of their kin deeper in the cavern, yet none of them are coming to assist.

  I jump from side to side, dodging those claws by mere centimeters, and bring this to an end. Everyone in the second group is dead. I didn’t leave a single one barely alive—every last one fell to my swords.

  I walk straight toward the final group. I seriously consider whether to keep enjoying myself by relying mainly on swordsmanship to kill them, or to use constructs to finish this quickly. It would be very easy to create countless ice swords and wipe out all the armadillos in seconds.

  In the third group, I find something different. Some of them are a bit smaller and thinner—the difference becomes noticeable now that I’m close and focusing on them. Before I can decide whether they’re a different type or just malnourished, the answer comes to me.

  Three of them fly at full speed toward me. I’m forced to build a few ice walls to buy enough time to dodge. The construct doesn’t last at all—their claws destroy it the moment they hit.

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  I didn’t have time to add much mana, just enough to buy a few milliseconds and give my brain time to move my body using my abilities. The armadillos streak past like rockets, slicing only air—my body is no longer there.

  The rest rush at me when they see me dodge the first attack. There are ten of this new variant; the rest are the same as in the first two rounds.

  The lighter armadillos make everything more entertaining. They force my body to move and push my brain to choose the exact moments and directions to move. Several minutes of training in this cramped space make me feel more comfortable—my body is warming up.

  When my swords move for the first time, two fall dead. The next two die as I dodge them with a slight tilt of my body.

  I find the exact moment to cut one of the new armadillos. My right sword swings with the same force as always—that was a serious mistake. The new variant’s body is apparently much less durable. The momentum of my body is too strong, and I lose some stability.

  That small mistake costs me a chunk of my abdomen. Another of the fast armadillos manages to reach me at rib height. It only grazes me with part of its claw, but that’s enough to break my defenses and tear away a few centimeters of my flesh.

  My defenses clearly aren’t at full power. I’m only using electricity and gravity combined with my Imra—I’m not wearing my usual full-body ice armor. Still, those defenses should’ve withstood a normal hit from a grade-three monster. This thing pierced through everything as if my body were a fragile leaf.

  The wound is only a few centimeters—I heal it as soon as it happens. The uniform provided by the school also repairs itself automatically, absorbing ambient mana and storing it for self-repair. Another option is to directly inject mana for faster repair.

  That was the only mistake during the third horde of monsters. I don’t lose balance or footing again at any point. Every cut is precise and perfect, my positioning flawless so I don’t lose stability no matter the force exerted.

  “It’s a shame they don’t drop any orbs or something like that…” Technically, when all monsters die, they turn into mana to continue fueling this entire dungeon circuit for the event. At the same time, that mana serves to slightly improve the rewards—or at least that’s how I understood it.

  I didn’t pay close enough attention to the hostess’s explanation. My mind was blank at the time. It was a big mistake not to listen carefully—at least I remember the basics.

  My excitement fades when I see the next wave of monsters. I expected to find another tank-type variant or something different again. Sadly, that’s not the case. Only the number of armadillo monsters increases.

  Everything starts just like the previous times. This time I’m ready for that first attack. I build ice walls without holding back on mana use, pouring in as much as possible to make them sturdier and more resistant. This time I manage to contain the new variant’s attack—or so I thought.

  The damn things manage to break my construct after a few seconds. I’m able to conclude a couple of things from this small experiment: their attack power rivals that of a basic grade-four monster, and my constructs can hold long enough for me to kill them without issue.

  With little desire to fight due to lack of excitement, I start killing the first line of attackers. I advance little by little, taking careful steps, retreating multiple times so I don’t end up looking like Swiss cheese.

  What is that? I have to ask myself the moment something feels different within my Personal World. At the end of this tunnel—about twenty meters wide and five meters high—something finally changes.

  I can feel the cavern becoming much larger. The narrow tunnel turns into something more like a room. I can’t sense or see a ridiculous number of monsters like the ones surrounding me now—there are only two of them in the next chamber.

  The extra motivation of finding something different makes me speed up a bit to finish off the remaining armadillos faster. My swords never stop moving, cutting everything around me until I’m the only one left standing.

  I walk toward the next chamber. A pleasant surprise greets me at the edge of the entrance—I can sense something like a chest in one corner of the room. I can’t see any traps or protections around it… well, this darkness itself is a form of protection.

  One of the two monsters is very large—twice the size of the others and at least triple their weight. It’s lying on the ground. I can feel it has no desire to fight; it’s just watching me without moving.

  The other one is different. Though not as tall as the large one, this armadillo is about fifty centimeters taller than the normal ones. Its claws are much longer and sharper, its build far more athletic, and its Imra is different. This armadillo is completely different—it feels like the boss or king of this cave.

  I can feel the boss armadillo watching me, ready to attack the moment I take another step. The pressure it exerts is close to that of a grade-four monster. I didn’t expect to encounter such a peculiar group so soon after starting the second stage.

  Just to be safe, I increase the mana volume in my armor. I haven’t fully measured how dangerous those claws are; I’m only sure they’re superior to its companions’.

  “If there isn’t an Honor Medal, I’m going to be annoyed.” I speak, take the next step, and I’m attacked.