Chapter 40: The Wind of the East and the Abyssal Gate
Location: Gallowmere Nation - The Emerald Plains
The vast, rolling grasslands outside Riverbend City stretched toward the horizon like an endless, rippling emerald sea. The wind swept across the plains, carrying the sweet scent of wildflowers and sun-baked earth, rustling the tall grass in a mesmerizing rhythm.
Far in the distance, cutting through the azure sky, the jagged, snow-capped peaks of the Highlandia mountain range loomed. It was a sight that brought a renewed sense of vigor to the weary group of summoned teenagers.
"We're actually getting close," Saki said, shading her eyes with her hand as she stared at the distant mountains. A bright, hopeful smile spread across her face. "I was talking to a merchant in Riverbend yesterday. He said Highlandia is practically a mirror of our world's history. They wear kimono-style garments, their architecture is entirely Oriental, and the whole nation is governed by a Shogun."
"Please tell me he mentioned the food," one of the other classmate girls pleaded, her stomach giving a timely rumble.
Saki’s eyes sparkled. "Rice. He confirmed they have actual, properly cultivated white rice. And soy sauce! Real soy sauce, not that weird salty mushroom paste they use in the western territories!"
A collective sigh of absolute longing rippled through the group. The promise of a hot bath and a bowl of white rice with soy sauce was a more effective motivator than any holy quest the King of Vaeloria could have given them.
The roadway to Highlandia was long, but compared to the treacherous Outland borders, it was relatively safe. They would occasionally encounter low-level roaming monsters—dire wolves or rogue goblins—but nothing the heavily armed heroes couldn't dispatch in seconds.
"We shouldn't let our guard down, but we can afford to breathe a little," Rina announced, planting her silver staff into the soft dirt. Her golden hair caught the sunlight, framing her calm, authoritative face. "According to the latest political news we gathered at the border, the Western Continent has seen a drastic decrease in demon activity compared to the Eastern Continent. The frontline battles here have almost entirely halted."
"That’s incredibly lucky for us," Kaito noted, adjusting the leather straps of his armor. "If we ran into a real Demon General right now... it would be a bloodbath."
"Exactly," Rina nodded grimly. "Even though Tatsuya and I have recently broken through to Rank S, and the rest of you are comfortably sitting at the peak of Rank A, a Demon Commander operates on an entirely different scale of power. We are strong, but we are not invincible."
Seeing the fatigue setting in after hours of walking, Rina raised her hand. "Alright, everyone. Let’s take a rest here. We've made good time."
With relieved groans, the classmates collapsed onto the soft, cool grass.
Tatsuya leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head and staring up at the spotless blue sky. He closed his eyes, taking in a long, deep breath. "Man... the air here is something else. It’s so clean it almost burns your lungs. You definitely can't get fresh air like this in our original world. Especially not in Tokyo."
Kaito sat down beside him, handing him a waterskin. He looked at Tatsuya carefully, analyzing his friend's relaxed demeanor. "Your eyes are clear. When exactly did your INT stat return to normal?"
Tatsuya took the waterskin, offering a lopsided, slightly embarrassed grin. "Recently. Woke up a few days ago and felt like a massive fog had been lifted from my brain. I can actually form complex sentences without wanting to punch something."
Kaito let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He had been deeply worried. Tatsuya possessed a devastating Ultimate Skill, but it came tethered to a Cursed Title: [Battle Lover]. Whenever Tatsuya engaged in prolonged combat, the curse would forcibly drain his Intelligence (INT) stat, converting it into raw physical strength and uncontrollable bloodlust. He would turn into a berserker, unable to distinguish friend from foe.
Kaito glanced toward Rina. "It’s thanks to Rina-san, isn't it?"
Tatsuya nodded, rolling up his right sleeve to reveal a complex, glowing golden runic circle branded into his forearm. "Yeah. She used her Holy Magic to place a high-tier seal on the curse. As long as she maintains the mana tether, my INT stays locked, and the [Battle Lover] title is suppressed. I owe her big time."
Kaito hummed in agreement, then looked over to where Rina was sitting, meticulously polishing the crystal on her staff.
"Hey, Rina-san," Kaito called out, his tone shifting into something far more serious. The casual atmosphere slightly dimmed. "I've been thinking... what exactly is our plan once we gather all of our classmates? We're scattered across these nations, but once we're together... what then?"
Rina paused her polishing. She didn't look up immediately. The weight of leadership was a heavy mantle, one she had been forced to wear since the day they were summoned.
"Once we have everyone," Rina said, her voice steady and resolute, "we find a way to go back to our original world. That is my only priority."
"I agree," Tatsuya chimed in, surprisingly serious, even though nobody had explicitly asked for his opinion. He sat up, resting his forearms on his knees. "I like swinging a sword as much as the next guy, but this isn't our home. The politics, the wars, the territory disputes... this world belongs to the natives. It’s not our job to bleed for a King who kidnapped us."
"Even if it means we have to turn our backs on the people here?" Kaito pressed gently. "Even if we are expected to fight the Demon Lord to earn our ticket home?"
Rina finally looked up, her blue eyes reflecting the vast, open sky. "Will we fight the Demon Lord? Who knows. If the Demon Lord stands between us and our way home, then yes, we will carve a path through them. But I refuse to let us be used as disposable pawns in a holy war. We are surviving, Kaito-kun. That is all."
The wind howled softly across the grass, carrying the weight of her words toward the distant eastern mountains.
Location: Frontierra Nation - Cyanis Hollows Dungeon, Floor 50
The world beneath the earth was a stark, terrifying contrast to the sunlit plains of Gallowmere.
Deep within the Cyanis Hollows, the air was freezing, thick with the metallic taste of condensed mana and the coppery scent of old blood. Phosphorescent blue crystals jutted from the jagged cavern walls, casting long, eerie shadows across the stone floor.
Shiori stood at the forefront of the vanguard, her breath pluming in the freezing air. Behind her stood her core team: Saintess Evelyn, Yua, Mei, Kazura, Shota, and Yoshi. They were bruised, utterly exhausted, and covered in monster ichor, but their eyes burned with an unbreakable resolve.
For weeks, they had descended into the abyss. They had mapped treacherous labyrinths, dismantled deadly magical traps, and slaughtered countless hordes of subterranean nightmares. They had successfully cleared Floor 49.
Now, they stood before a pair of colossal, ancient bronze doors, intricately carved with the skeletal visages of dragons. Floor 50. The First Boss Room.
In the entire recorded history of the Frontierra Adventurers Guild, no human party had ever passed Floor 30 of this specific dungeon. The pressure was suffocating.
However, Shiori’s classmates were not the only ones standing before the boss doors.
Standing a few paces away, looking decidedly arrogant despite the dangerous environment, was a squad of elite, native A-Rank Adventurers. The Frontierra Guild had forcefully attached them to Shiori’s expedition. The Guildmaster had recognized the terrifying progression speed of the Summoned Heroes and realized that if the kids cleared the dungeon alone, they would monopolize all the ancient artifacts, dungeon cores, and glory. The Guild could not allow foreign anomalies to shame their native heroes.
Gareth 'Ironhide', a massive, scarred human Vanguard carrying a tower shield, spat on the stone floor. "Listen up, Summoned Heroes," he grunted, his deep voice echoing in the cavern. "You’ve done well surviving this far, I’ll give you that. But a Boss Floor is a different breed of hell. Stay behind me, don't get in my way, and maybe I won't have to carry your corpses back to the surface."
Beside him, Elara, a lithe Elven Ranger with cold, calculating eyes, notched an arrow to her glowing bow. "The Guild requires the Floor Boss's primary mana crystal. Do not accidentally destroy it with your flashy, uncontrolled magic."
Boran, a hunched, greedy-eyed human Mage, chuckled darkly. "Just try not to soil yourselves when the doors open."
Shota grit his teeth, his grip tightening on his dual daggers. "These arrogant bastards... we did all the heavy lifting to get them down here, and now they act like they're in charge."
"Ignore them, Shota-kun," Shiori commanded, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade of ice. She didn't even glance at Gareth or his crew. She stepped to the center of her classmates, instantly commanding their full attention.
"Listen to me carefully," Shiori instructed, her eyes locking onto each of her friends. "We have been diving for weeks. Our stamina is at its absolute limit. This dungeon only has two Boss Floors—Floor 50, and Floor 100. This is the first major filter."
She raised her hand, projecting a small, holographic map using her tactical magic.
"As your leader, my primary directive is your survival," Shiori said firmly. "I forbid any of you from using Ultimate Skills or high-tier magic indiscriminately. Do not do anything that rapidly drains your MP before we even see what the Boss is. We keep our mana pools in reserve. We play defensively until we analyze its attack patterns."
Yua nodded, gripping her healing staff tightly. "Understood, Shiori-san."
"Furthermore," Shiori continued, gesturing to the massive bronze doors. "The spatial dimensions behind those doors are anomalous. Based on the mana density leaking through the cracks, the Boss Room is gigantic—likely the size of a small city district. If the enemy uses wide-scale Area of Effect attacks, grouping up will get us all killed."
She looked at Kazura and Yoshi. "Do not crowd together. Keep a minimum dispersion of twenty meters between vanguard and rearguard. If Gareth and his Guild lapdogs want to rush in blindly and cluster around the boss, let them. We will use them as bait to study the enemy's mechanics."
Gareth, overhearing her cold, tactical assessment, scowled deeply but said nothing. He knew the girl was terrifyingly smart.
"Are we ready?" Shiori asked, drawing her own weapon.
Her classmates drew their weapons in unison, a chorus of steel and humming mana answering her call.
With a deafening, grinding groan that shook the very foundations of the dungeon, the colossal bronze doors of Floor 50 slowly began to swing inward. A wave of ancient, putrid air washed over them, followed by an oppressive darkness that seemed to devour the light of their crystals.
Shiori narrowed her eyes, stepping over the threshold into the abyss.
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