Looking Forward to Another World - Chapter 11

Long ago, in a world that once harbored a massive cave.
This cave, a breeding ground for endless monsters, was a devil’s lair in its truest form.
Countless bizarre and varied monsters surged from its depths, wreaking havoc on the surface. Their destruction swept through forests, mountains, valleys, seas, and skies, reaching every corner of the world.
Humanity suffered greatly under their onslaught, enduring devastation. In a bid to reclaim their dignity and peace, and to avenge their fallen kin, they united across racial boundaries to retaliate against these creatures.
After years of relentless struggle, led by those later celebrated as ‘Heroes’, humanity drove the monsters back into their infernal pit and erected a fortress atop this abyss.
This fortress came to be known as Labyrinth City Orario.
The large cave, known as the Dungeon, was a labyrinthine world beneath the surface, an entirely different realm.
Within it lay countless floors, their exact number unknown.
Each floor of the Dungeon varied in environment and terrain, hosting an array of complex and ever-changing monsters. The deeper the floors, the more intricate the landscapes, and the more formidable and terrifying the creatures became.
This meant that those of lesser strength couldn’t venture far into the Dungeon. Even the first floor, closest to the surface and deemed the safest with the weakest monsters, posed a mortal threat to the average person.
Even those blessed with abilities and strength needed courage and like-minded companions to brave the depths of the Dungeon.
By day, the square before the Tower of Babel thronged with adventurers from various Familias, all registered with the Guild that governed Labyrinth City, undertaking dungeon exploration as their primary duty.
Forming teams, they ventured into the Dungeon, seeking vast treasures, fame, and prestige in this realm of the unknown.
Nighttime, however, usually saw no adventurers daring the Dungeon’s depths.
Yet, on this pitch-black night, a lone figure entered the Tower of Babel. Passing through the ornate door of the first-floor hall and descending the stairway along the edge of a vast chasm, they reached the first floor of the Dungeon.
This brash intruder, void of any proper armor or equipment, clad in simple clothes with no protective value, armed only with a short sword, ventured into the abyss.
Silence enveloped everything.
Riegel raised his eyes, surveying the path ahead, and saw corridors stretching in every direction like underground tunnels, their walls and ceilings a uniform light blue.
Forked paths, crossroads, and gentle slopes formed a neatly arranged labyrinth.
No other soul was in sight.
In that moment, Riegel stepped into a literal devil’s lair, an underground maze.
“It feels like the time I accidentally wandered into a bear’s den while trying to survive in the forest,” he reflected, remarkably calm.
His footsteps, casual yet distinct, echoed in the quiet.
Growls and hisses, perhaps lured by Riegel’s unguarded steps, began to emerge from the shadows.
Riegel’s gaze was fixed ahead as he continued walking, focusing on the end of the corridor.
There, at a junction, pairs of crimson eyes glimmered in the dark.
Monsters, lurking in the shadows, waiting for prey, made their silent approach.
It was only upon drawing closer that Riegel could make out their forms.
These were the labyrinth’s creatures, Kobolds, with dog-like heads and razor-sharp teeth.
One particularly restless Kobold, panting erratically, broke away from its pack and stepped into the light.
Smaller and uglier than Riegel, with a malevolent air, the Kobold was a shocking sight for someone encountering such an anomaly for the first time.
Yet, Riegel didn’t halt his advance.
With a guttural growl, the Kobold, as if seeing easy prey, lunged at Riegel with a shrill scream.
The vicious creature loomed larger and closer in Riegel’s vision.
Exhaling a heavy breath, Riegel fought to steady his racing heart.
It was a sensation he hadn’t felt in a long while.
A rare, natural smile curled the corners of Riegel’s lips.
Despite the imminent danger, instead of fear, Riegel felt an inexplicable surge of excitement.

Reflecting on the past, when Riegel first left home and sought the thrill of extreme sports outside his family’s watchful eye, he felt a similar rush. There was no unease, only an unexplainable excitement. Perhaps it was due to being numb for too long, or maybe because he had grown accustomed to it. Having lived a life once overly repressed and constrained, Riegel, like a rebound from rock bottom, experienced a complete reversal of his usual calm and composure whenever he encountered intensely stimulating situations.

With this inexplicable excitement, Riegel watched the Kobold charge at him and quickened his pace from a walk to a sprint, and then to a run, fearlessly charging into the unknown.

“Growl!” The Kobold, with vicious intent, lunged at Riegel, its sharp claws aiming for his head. But in the next moment, with a clang, the creature’s claws were blocked by Riegel’s ornate short-sword. Just as the Kobold got close, Riegel boldly parried its claw strike with his sword.

“Thud!” A dull sound echoed as Riegel, blocking the Kobold’s attack, used his free hand to land a punch on the grotesque dog head. The Kobold howled in pain and was knocked back by the force of the punch, tumbling to the ground.

“Growl!” “Hiss!” Witnessing their companion’s defeat, the other Kobolds hiding in the shadows couldn’t sit idle and charged at Riegel en masse.

Riegel’s heart raced faster, his excitement growing rather than diminishing, as adrenaline surged through his body. This scene reminded him of his wilderness survival experience in the forest, where he once faced a pack of wolves at night, much like the current situation.

Recalling that incident, Riegel’s body instinctively reacted. Having no supernatural powers but a strong physique from his previous extreme sports experiences and the original owner’s background as a sturdy farmhand, Riegel’s self-defense training and wrestling skills came in handy.

Facing the onslaught of several Kobolds, Riegel made the most appropriate decision for the situation. He picked up the Kobold he had just knocked down and swung it forcefully towards the incoming group.

“Bang!” The sound resonated once more. The front-running Kobolds were hit by their airborne companion, throwing their formation into chaos. The Kobolds at the front were knocked down, and those behind stumbled over them, losing their momentum.

Seizing the opportunity, Riegel charged forward, reaching the nearest Kobold. He swiftly and decisively stabbed it in the head with his short-sword during the ensuing confusion.

“Gaaaah!” Amidst a shrill scream, the Kobold collapsed, blood splattering everywhere. A drop of blood landed on Riegel’s face, his cold, glistening eyes reflecting a merciless demeanor.

“Growl!” “Hiss!” The remaining Kobolds, enraged, stepped over their fallen comrades and rushed towards Riegel. Unfazed, Riegel used the body of the fallen Kobold as a makeshift weapon, swinging it with force to fend off the attackers. His short-sword was used sparingly, mainly for blocking attacks or delivering fatal blows when necessary.

The battle waged on, its duration unknown. “Puchi!” The sound of another successful strike rang out.