Danmachi: The Focalors Familia — Chapter 66

Chapter 66: The Middle Floors

The Loki Familia had more than enough Level 2 and Level 3 Adventurers to handle the newly discovered Secret Realm, so they no longer needed to worry about the logistics of clearing it.

Lefiya waved an energetic goodbye to Noah and his group, then obediently stepped back to stand at Riveria’s side.

Watching the retreating backs of Noah’s party as they ventured further down the corridor, Loki suddenly leaned in toward Riveria. She nudged the high elf’s ribs with her elbow, lowering her voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “Hey, Riveria… I really want to see the status on that boy’s back.”

Riveria’s elegant brow furrowed instantly. “Loki, do not do anything reckless.”

She was deeply concerned that her goddess’s insatiable curiosity would override her common sense. Forcibly peeking at another Adventurer’s Falna was a severe taboo in Orario—an act of supreme disrespect that could easily turn any Familia into a mortal enemy. Noah was not only a personal friend of Bete, but he had also just generously handed them the intelligence and the exclusive opportunity to raid the Secret Realm. If Loki truly harbored any underhanded intentions, Riveria would be the very first to oppose her.

“Oh my, you think far too poorly of me. How could I possibly use force?” Loki chuckled, her vermilion eyes narrowing into crescent moons. Then, using a tone she clearly thought was sheer genius, she offered a spectacularly terrible idea. “I’ve got a brilliant plan. You just take him down, and once you’ve got him in bed, wouldn’t you be able to look at his back fair and square?”

The air in the corridor went dead silent.

On Riveria’s dignified, flawlessly beautiful face, a very clear, pulsing vein slowly bulged at her temple.

The very next second, the high elf clenched her fist without a shred of hesitation and delivered a precise, heavy blow directly to the crown of Loki’s head.

Thump!

Accompanied by a dull, hollow thud, the hundred-million-year-old goddess collapsed. Her eyes rolled back into her skull, and a massive, comical bump swelled on her forehead at a rate visible to the naked eye, faint wisps of white smoke rising from the point of impact. She was out cold instantly, her body hitting the stone floor in perfect, unconscious form.

Seeing this brutal scene unfold, Finn’s eye twitched violently. The Pallum captain silently turned his head, pretending to be deeply engrossed in studying the architecture of the portal.

Bete whistled a sharp, off-key tune and stared intently up at the ceiling.

The Amazonian sisters, Tiona and Tione, merely exchanged a flat look that clearly said, She absolutely deserved that.

Noah and his group were naturally unaware of the violent farce occurring behind them.

They walked steadily along the dim, winding passage, soon arriving before a massive, sheer fault line in the earth. This was the “Front Line”—the absolute boundary separating the upper floors from the middle floors.

Unlike the relatively gentle, sloping descents of the upper levels, what lay before them was a colossal, bottomless spiral staircase winding downward into the abyss. A bitter, freezing wind blew up from the depths, carrying a damp, chilling atmosphere that felt entirely alien compared to the floors above.

“From here on out, it’s the middle floors,” Noah said, stopping at the edge of the precipice. His expression was dead serious as he looked back at the girls. “Stay sharp. This place and the levels above are two entirely different worlds.”

Everyone nodded in silent agreement. Following Noah’s lead, they stepped onto the ancient stone stairs leading down to the 13th Floor.

As they ventured deeper into the earth, the surrounding ambient light was swallowed bit by bit. The exact moment their boots touched the solid ground of the 13th Floor, the last lingering trace of the upper floors’ blue phosphorescence vanished completely.

Absolute darkness and a deathly, suffocating silence enveloped them.

“This place…” Hyacine murmured, her voice tight with a hint of genuine nervousness as she held Little Icarus close to her chest.

Noah didn’t speak. He simply raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

A small, concentrated cluster of flames ignited at his fingertip, casting a warm orange glow that forcefully dispelled the surrounding darkness and illuminated the grim scene before them.

They were standing at the entrance of a massive, sprawling cavern. Down here, there were absolutely no traces of the artificial, dungeon-like construction seen on the upper floors. The walls, the uneven floor, and the jagged ceiling were all composed of rough, unforgiving, dark brown bedrock.

The air was heavy, damp, and freezing cold. It carried a thick, earthy, fishy stench mixed with the unmistakable rot of decaying creatures; every breath they drew made their chests feel tight and restricted.

Countless tunnels spread out before them like a chaotic spiderweb, dense and violently intertwined. They were no longer simple extensions on a flat plane. These passages twisted and spiraled in every conceivable direction—up, down, left, and right—forming a true, three-dimensional maze of stone.

Some tunnel entrances were pitch black and bottomless, gaping open like the maws of starving leviathans. At the ends of others, patches of eerie green or pale blue moss flickered with a dim, ghostly light, full of unknown temptation and lethal danger.

Drip… drip…

The rhythmic sound of dripping water, echoing from some unseen subterranean pool, sounded exceptionally clear in the silent cavern, tapping a slow, dreadful beat against everyone’s hearts.

In the far distance, the teeth-gritting rustle of sharp claws scraping against hard rock occasionally drifted through the air, followed by the dull, guttural roar of some massive beast. The echoes refracted repeatedly within the complex network of tunnels, making it entirely impossible to judge their true source or distance.

This was the 13th Floor. The true starting point of what veteran Adventurers called the “Dungeon Maze.”

Compared to the upper floors, the sheer psychological oppression here had increased exponentially. That omnipresent, crawling sensation of being watched from the dark—that suffocating tension of knowing monsters could rush out from overhead, burst from beneath their feet, or strike from any shadowed corner at any given second—kept their nerves pulled taut as bowstrings.

Tifa silently adjusted her breathing, her crimson eyes vigilantly scanning every dark crevice and outcropping of rock.

Robin gently closed her eyes, expanding her keen perception outward to capture every minute trace of magic flowing through the stagnant air.

“We go this way.” Noah observed the ground for a moment, then pointed to a relatively wide tunnel on his left. Faint, fresh tracks were pressed into the damp earth.

Those were traces left by a preceding party of Adventurers. It was a calculated, correct decision. On the middle floors, simply getting lost was one of the most fatal dangers an Adventurer could face. Following in the footsteps of those who came before could at least ensure that their general direction wouldn’t deviate into a dead end.

They moved forward with extreme caution, their formation naturally shifting to adapt to the hostile environment. Noah took the vanguard, walking at the very front, while Tifa flanked Robin and Hyacine to protect the rear.

Just as they passed a jagged outcropping, a low, rumbling wolf howl erupted from a pitch-black tunnel on their left.

Immediately after, several pairs of glowing crimson eyes ignited in the darkness.

Four or five Hellhounds—monstrous beasts the size of adult giant wolves, covered in coarse, pitch-black fur—rushed out of the tunnel. Boiling, magma-like saliva dripped from their bared fangs, sizzling as it hit the stone floor.

As soon as they locked onto the group, the beasts opened their maws without a second of hesitation. Several scorching fireballs, trailing thick black smoke, whistled through the air straight toward them.

“Deep within the lake of my heart, Ripples of the Past arise—”

Noah’s incantation was as fast as lightning. He deliberately chose not to use his Ever-burning Flame, which would consume a massive amount of his weapon’s Endurance; the added magic was one of his final trump cards, better saved for a true crisis.

“—Soul’s Calm.”

[Garden of Silence] activated.

An invisible, absolute magic barrier instantly expanded outward, enveloping him as he stepped forward to physically block the path of the flames.

The roaring fireballs, burning hot enough to melt solid rock, crashed into the barrier without making a single sound. They vanished silently, dissolving like mud oxen sinking into the sea, without even a fraction of their blistering heat penetrating through to the girls behind him.

Almost at the exact same moment, the solid rock on the ceiling and walls suddenly began to wriggle and distort. Seven or eight Al-miraj—monsters resembling entirely snow-white rabbits, but with blood-red eyes and sharp, deadly single horns protruding from their heads—literally “grew” out of the stone walls.

The instant they popped free from the rock, the vicious creatures grabbed crude stone axes and hurled them with terrifying, unnatural force directly toward Tifa and the others below.

Though these monsters looked deceptively cute, their coordinated, axe-throwing ambush was utterly merciless, with every single spinning blade aimed directly at Robin and Hyacine in the vulnerable back row.