“You… damn bastard…”

Ziel quickly regained consciousness, only out for a few seconds, and immediately grasped the situation. It was undoubtedly thanks to his training, which had made him accustomed to fainting spells.

In disbelief, Ziel gazed upward. Not at the open blue sky, but at the absurdly high ceiling with a gaping hole. That hole connected this layer—whose number he could no longer discern—to the third floor below, where he had been grappling with the monster. It was a vast vertical tunnel that had brought him to his current predicament.

The hole was impossibly deep. For someone like him, who wasn’t a mage, there was no climbing back up.

“Damn it… That idiot…!”

Grimacing in pain, Ziel touched his shoulder and forced himself to sit up. He replayed the impossible chain of events that had led to him being unceremoniously thrown into this mess.

Things had been going relatively well in the labyrinth at first.

This highest-difficulty labyrinth, Abbyss, was infamous. Even the strongest S-rank adventurer parties had never made it past the third layer. The beasts lurking within were so powerful that they could easily be mistaken for floor bosses in mid-tier dungeons.

But thanks to the supporter team’s meticulous route planning, progress had been smooth. Occasionally, they had to engage in unavoidable combat, but Ziel didn’t have to lift a finger. The main group of The Next Apex sliced through enemies with ease.

The problem arose when they encountered the floor boss of the third layer.

Ziel wasn’t well-versed in labyrinth lore, but he knew this much: each floor had a unique, overpowered beast that drew special magical energy from the dungeon. These floor bosses waited in designated rooms rather than roaming around like ordinary monsters.

Fighting the boss wasn’t always mandatory. Sometimes, you could find a path leading to the next floor without entering the boss room.

This wasn’t one of those times.

So, they had to fight it.

That’s when things started to go sideways.

As planned, Ziel took the vanguard position. He didn’t mind being the tip of the spear. Swinging his sword was all he was good for, and it was easier for him to focus when he didn’t have to worry about others. Plus, the physical strain was excellent training.

But then… there was no sign of support from the rear.

It was around this moment that Ziel’s instincts told him something was off.

He could manage without backup—he’d fought alone plenty of times while wandering the plains. But when you expect support and it doesn’t come, it’s unnerving.

Turning to check on the party, Ziel saw their leader, Godach, pouring an excessive amount of magic into his signature weapon, the cursed sword Vanish.

That was fine. Or so Ziel thought.

The floor boss was overwhelmingly strong. It quickly became clear why even S-rank adventurers had never made it past this layer. Without his experience slaying the Eastern Venom Dragon, Ziel wouldn’t have had the confidence to face it either.

So, Godach stepping forward and preparing his ultimate move, Demonic Sword Release, made sense. It was a wise tactical decision—better to go all out than risk getting injured.

That is, if Ziel hadn’t been standing directly within its blast radius.

“Wait—!”

He didn’t.

A pitch-black flash erupted. Ziel barely managed to dodge by slipping behind the floor boss. The creature, however, retaliated with overwhelming force, striking down Godach’s attack.

The impact caused a massive explosion, tearing a hole in the floor.

Ziel theorized that the explosion wasn’t solely due to Godach’s attack. The floor boss likely unleashed its own ultimate move simultaneously, directing its power downward and amplifying the destruction.

Whatever the case, the floor collapsed, and Ziel found himself plummeting.

Thus began his freefall with the floor boss, just the two of them on a bizarrely intimate journey.

Despite not being an airborne species, the floor boss showed incredible determination, relentlessly attacking mid-air. Ziel, equally ill-suited for aerial combat, countered with all his might.

Eventually, Ziel prevailed.

But the cost was a botched landing and a brief period of unconsciousness.

“…Wait, am I sitting on…?”

Realizing the ground beneath him felt oddly soft, Ziel looked down and discovered he was atop the corpse of the floor boss.

It had been a contest of sheer willpower, and Ziel had won. Though his reward was a rough landing and temporary unconsciousness.

He couldn’t forgive this.

Who in their right mind fires an ultimate attack with an ally in the way? The memory of the argument before their departure surfaced, but it hardly justified such betrayal. Ziel had every right to be furious.

When he made it back, he would make sure Godach paid for this—assuming he could escape.

He looked up at the ceiling and prepared to shout for help. Surely, someone in the party—like Klaha, who had some sense of decency—would lower a rope.

Taking a deep breath, Ziel began to shout, “Heeeey—!”

But his voice faltered.

The hole above him was closing with a sickening squelch.

Ziel couldn’t deny it now—shouting for help was pointless.

Resigned, he muttered, “Well, this is just great…”

This was turning into exactly the kind of nightmare he’d joked about with Klaha during the wagon ride.

At least his glasses were intact. Small mercies, Ziel thought, as he reached to adjust them.

Crash!

“…What?”

Crack! Shatter!

“No way…”

His glasses exploded into a fine powder. After enduring the explosion, the fall, and the combat, they’d finally given out.

Now, Ziel was a directionally challenged adventurer without glasses.

He poked at the empty space where the lenses used to be, then sighed in resignation.

“It’s over…”

And so, his adventure began.