Chapter 9 - Awakening of Inner Strength
Morning light finds Leon preparing for another dive.
He eats breakfast quickly—rice and fish left from yesterday. Hestia is still asleep, exhausted from her evening with the other gods. Leon leaves a note saying he'll be back by evening.
He checks his equipment carefully. His new bow, polished and strung. Two full quivers of iron arrows—forty-eight total. His sword, freshly sharpened. His dagger as backup. A small pouch of supplies—water, dried meat, bandages.
Everything in order.
Leon leaves the church as the sun breaks over Orario's walls, heading for Babel Tower.
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Floor four is routine now.
Leon moves through the corridors with practiced efficiency. Dungeon lizards appear, he kills them, collects the magic stones, moves on. His new bow performs excellently—arrows flying true, punching through tough hide with ease.
Within two hours, he clears enough of floor four that monster spawns slow. Time to descend.
The stairs to floor five beckon.
Leon takes a moment to center himself. Floor five represents new territory. According to his guidebook, the monsters are significantly stronger—dungeon armadillos with thick shells, infant dragons with fire breath, and occasionally needle rabbits that move in fast swarms.
He descends the stairs carefully.
Floor five feels different immediately. The air is heavier, warmer, carrying a pressure that makes breathing slightly harder. The walls glow dimmer here, shadows deeper. The ambient sounds are different too—rumbling, hissing, echoes that seem to come from everywhere.
Leon moves forward slowly, bow ready.
The first monster appears from a side corridor—a War Shadow. It spots Leon and attacks immediately, moving with the same speed and aggression as the floor three versions.
Leon looses an arrow. It strikes the War Shadow's chest. The creature staggers and falls, dissolving into ash.
One monster, one arrow. Standard.
Leon continues forward, encountering more War Shadows and dungeon lizards. Each fight is manageable—the monsters are the same as floors three and four. But something is different.
They're spawning faster.
On the upper floors, Leon could clear an area and have several minutes before new monsters appeared. Here, they spawn almost constantly. He kills one War Shadow, and two more emerge from side passages. He defeats a dungeon lizard, and another spawns behind him.
The Dungeon is more aggressive on floor five. Not stronger monsters—just more of them.
Over the next hour, Leon fights continuously. War Shadows attack from multiple directions. Dungeon lizards charge in pairs. He uses arrows efficiently, sword strikes precisely, but the constant combat drains his stamina.
By midday, he's used thirty arrows and his arm aches from drawing the bow repeatedly. His sword blade shows wear from constant use—small chips forming along the edge.
Leon finds a narrow alcove and rests briefly. The monsters keep spawning, but the tight space limits how many can attack at once. He eats some dried meat, drinks water, catches his breath.
This is floor five's real challenge. Not individual monster strength, but relentless numbers. The Dungeon tests endurance here, not just skill.
After his rest, Leon continues deeper. He encounters a large chamber where multiple passages converge. A strategic mistake—he realizes it too late.
Monsters pour from every corridor. War Shadows, dungeon lizards, even some kobolds mixed in. Dozen of them, spawning faster than he can kill them.
Leon fires his remaining arrows, each shot dropping a monster. But for every one that falls, two more appear. His quiver empties within minutes.
He draws his sword and dagger, backing toward a wall to protect his rear. The monsters press forward, coordinated by sheer numbers rather than intelligence.
By the time he clears the chamber, his equipment is failing. His sword blade has multiple deep chips and is losing its edge. His dagger has a crack along the spine. Both quivers are empty. His body is exhausted from constant combat.
And he can hear more monsters spawning in the surrounding passages.
Leon assesses his situation coldly. He's deep in floor five, tired, out of arrows, with damaged weapons. The monster spawn rate is overwhelming. Retreating is the smart choice.
But then the walls around him begin to glow brighter. The air grows warmer. He recognizes this from his guidebook—a Monster Party. When the Dungeon spawns an unusually large group of monsters simultaneously.
Multiple roars echo through the passages. Not just a few monsters—many.
Three dungeon lizards emerge from different corridors, moving together. Behind them, Leon can see more War Shadows and kobolds appearing.
Leon's grip tightens on his chipped sword. He can fight one or two lizards with damaged equipment. But three, with more monsters coming, while exhausted?
The lizards charge together.
Leon meets the first one, deflecting its claws with his sword. The blade shatters completely, metal fragments scattering. He rolls away from the second lizard's tail sweep, his cloak tangling. He tears it off and throws it at the third lizard's face.
His dagger slashes at the first lizard's leg, drawing blood but barely slowing it. A claw rakes his shoulder, tearing cloth and skin. Leon stabs upward at the lizard's throat, but his dagger snaps from the impact, leaving only the hilt in his hand.
No weapons. No arrows. No protection.
The three dungeon lizards circle him, growls rumbling. Behind them, War Shadows creep closer. Kobolds chatter excitedly, sensing an easy kill.
Leon's mind races. In his past life, he spent decades mastering internal energy—qi, prana, the life force that flows through all living things. His [Enlightened Spirit] skill says he can perceive energy flow. But can he use it?
He has no choice.
Leon closes his eyes for one brief moment, shutting out the danger, focusing inward. He feels his heartbeat, his breathing, the flow of blood through his veins. And beneath that, something else—a current of energy, warm and powerful, flowing through channels in his body.
The Falna awakens it. His past life knowledge knows how to shape it.
Leon opens his eyes as the first lizard lunges.
He steps forward, not back. His fist shoots out in a straight punch—simple, direct, using every principle of body mechanics he mastered over eighty years.
But this punch is different.
Energy flows from his core, through his arm, into his fist. The impact creates a visible shockwave, air rippling outward in a circle. The lizard's head snaps back, its charge stopped cold. Teeth shatter from the force.
Leon doesn't pause. He pivots, strikes the second lizard with a palm strike to its chest. Another shockwave. Ribs crack audibly. The lizard wheezes and collapses.
The third lizard roars and charges low, attempting to tackle him. Leon sidesteps, brings his elbow down on the creature's spine with energy-enhanced force. The vertebrae crack. The lizard hits the ground and doesn't move.
Silence falls.
Leon stands in the corridor, breathing hard, fists still clenched. His torn cloak lies burning on the ground. His shirt is shredded, his skin marked with cuts and bruises. But he's alive.
And he can feel it—the energy still flowing through him, responding to his will, amplifying his strength far beyond what his stats suggest.
This is what he sought. The fusion of past life mastery with this world's power system. Not just Falna, but something deeper—the ability to manipulate the fundamental energy that exists in all things.
Leon tears strips from his ruined cloak and wraps them around his hands like gauntlets, protecting his knuckles. If he's fighting without weapons, he needs at least minimal protection.
He continues forward, deeper into floor five.
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The journey back is a blur.
Leon fights his way through more monsters using only his fists and energy manipulation. Each punch creates shockwaves. Each strike channels force beyond his physical stats. His [Battle Clarity] skill helps him read attack patterns. His [Unwavering Foundation] keeps him calm despite pain and exhaustion.
By the time he reaches the stairs to floor four, he's barely standing. Blood seeps from multiple wounds. His makeshift hand wraps are soaked red. His breathing is labored, ribs protesting with each inhale.
But his pouch is heavy with magic stones. And he learned something invaluable.
Leon climbs the stairs, floor by floor, until he finally emerges at Babel's entrance. Evening light hits him like a physical force. He stumbles, catches himself against the wall, and forces his legs to keep moving.
Home. He needs to get home.
The walk to the church takes forever. Every step is agony. People stare at him—a blood-soaked adventurer limping through the streets—but no one stops him. This is Orario. Wounded adventurers are common.
Leon pushes open the church door and stumbles inside.
"Leon?" Hestia's voice, sharp with concern. "Leon!"
She rushes over as he collapses onto a pew. Her hands flutter over his wounds, her face pale with worry.
"What happened? You're covered in blood! Did you go too deep? Did you—" She stops, taking a shaky breath. "You idiot. You complete idiot."
"I'm fine," Leon says. His voice is rough, exhausted.
"You're not fine! Look at you!" Tears well in Hestia's eyes. "What if you'd died? What if you hadn't come back?"
"But I did come back."
"That's not the point!" She grabs his shirt—what's left of it—and pulls him forward. "You're my child, Leon. My first child. If something happened to you, I'd—" Her voice breaks.
Leon looks at the small goddess. Tears stream down her face, her hands shaking, her expression twisted with fear and relief and anger all mixed together.
"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I pushed too hard. I should have retreated earlier."
"Yes, you should have!" Hestia wipes her eyes roughly. "Promise me. Promise me you'll be more careful."
"I promise."
"Say it properly."
"I, Leon Fury, promise to be more careful in the Dungeon and not make my goddess worry."
Hestia sniffles, then nods. "Good." She stands and takes a deep breath, composing herself. "Okay. Let me get bandages and medicine. You're going to sit there and not move while I clean your wounds."
"Yes, Goddess."
"And stop calling me Goddess when you're hurt. It makes me feel like you're being formal to avoid my scolding."
"Yes, Hestia."
She hurries away, returning with supplies. For the next hour, she cleans his wounds with surprising competence, applies salves, and wraps bandages. Her hands are gentle despite her earlier anger, her touch careful around the worst injuries.
"You learned something today, didn't you?" she asks quietly while wrapping his ribs.
"Yes."
"Was it worth almost dying?"
Leon considers the question. He awakened his ability to manipulate internal energy—something he sought for decades in his past life. Combined with Falna, it opens possibilities beyond what normal adventurers can achieve.
"Yes," he says. "It was worth it."
Hestia sighs. "You're impossible." She finishes the bandage and sits back. "But I'm glad you're alive. And I'm glad you learned something." She pokes his forehead gently. "Just don't do it again."
"I'll try."
"That's not a promise."
"I promise to try."
She laughs despite herself. "Close enough." She helps him stand. "Come on. You need real rest. Tomorrow you're staying home, and that's an order."
"Yes, Hestia."
They make their way to his basement room. Leon lies down on the bed, every muscle protesting. Hestia pulls a blanket over him and sits beside him.
"Thank you," Leon says. "For taking care of me."
"That's what family does." Hestia's voice is soft. "We take care of each other."
Leon's eyes grow heavy. The exhaustion is overwhelming, pulling him down into darkness. But it's peaceful darkness, safe darkness. Hestia is there, watching over him.
"Sleep," she whispers. "I'll be here when you wake up."
Leon lets himself fall into sleep, his body demanding rest, his mind already processing the day's lessons. He awakened something powerful today—an ability that will change everything.
But that's tomorrow's concern. Tonight, he simply sleeps, wounded but alive, under the watchful care of his goddess.
The journey continues, one hard-won step at a time.
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