The fall lasted forever.
Kura tumbled through absolute darkness, his stomach lurching, wind rushing past his ears. He tried to scream but couldn't find breath. Tried to orient himself but there was no up or down, just falling falling falling—
How deep was this?
Floor ten to where? Floor twenty? Thirty? Forty?
The deeper floors of the Orcus Labyrinth were supposed to be impossible. Monsters that could kill with a thought. Traps that violated natural law. Environments where the rules of reality bent and broke.
And he was falling into it with level 2 stats and a knife.
He was going to die.
The realization was surprisingly calm. After everything—the summoning, the training, the constant reminders of his inadequacy—it would end like this. Falling into darkness because someone had decided he didn't deserve to live.
Daisuke had killed him.
Everyone would think it was an accident. The trap had caught him, he'd fallen before anyone could save him. Tragic loss. They'd have a small ceremony, say nice words.
And Shirayuki...
She'd cry. Would mourn him. Would never know it was murder.
Would Daisuke comfort her? Would he use Kura's death to get close to her?
The thought filled Kura with rage hotter than anything he'd ever felt.
He'd been invisible his whole life. Had accepted being nobody. Had made peace with ordinariness.
But he hadn't accepted dying for someone else's jealousy.
The fall continued.
And then—something changed.
The air grew thicker. Warmer. The sensation of falling... slowed?
No, it wasn't slowing. It was—
The impact, when it came, was hard but not fatal. Like hitting water from high up—painful, stunning, but survivable. Kura's body slammed into something that gave way, energy dissipating around him in ways that shouldn't be possible.
He rolled across stone, every bone aching, breath knocked from his lungs. Lay there gasping, unable to believe he wasn't dead.
What... what was that?
Slowly, Kura forced himself to sit up. His body screamed in protest—he'd taken damage, multiple bruises and what might be cracked ribs—but nothing broken. Nothing fatal.
He was alive.
But how?
He looked around. The chamber he'd landed in was massive—cathedral-sized, with walls that glowed faintly with pale blue light. Not natural luminescence, but something magical. Ancient runic patterns covered every surface, pulsing with steady rhythm.
And the air... the air felt different. Charged with power. With presence.
This wasn't just another chamber.
This was something from the Age of Gods.
Kura's Ore Appraisal activated passively, analyzing the walls. The information that flooded back made his breath catch:
Adamantine-reinforced divine stone. Age: approximately 10,000 years. Purpose: Containment. Warning: Seal structure detected.
A seal.
This wasn't a chamber. It was a prison.
Something was locked down here.
And he'd fallen right into it.
Kura forced himself to stand, wincing at the pain. He did a quick inventory—knife at his belt, Shirayuki's protective charm around his neck (still intact), some basic supplies in his pack. He'd lost most of his equipment in the fall, but enough remained.
Enough to survive? That was the question.
The chamber he was in appeared to be a landing zone—the floor was marked with even more elaborate runic patterns, and the air here felt cushioned somehow. That's what had saved him. Some kind of ancient magical failsafe, a stasis field or cushioning effect that slowed falling objects.
The gods who'd built this place hadn't wanted things—or people—to die from the fall. They'd wanted them alive.
Why?
Kura limped toward one of the walls, examining the runes more closely. His Material Analysis skill kicked in, but the information was fragmentary, corrupted by age and magical interference. He could make out words:
SEAL... CONTAINED... WARNING... APPROACH WITH CAUTION...
And one phrase that repeated multiple times:
THE SLEEPING PRINCESS MUST NOT WAKE.
Princess?
Kura turned slowly, examining the chamber more carefully. There were three exits—massive doorways sealed with magical barriers that flickered and pulsed. And beyond the main chamber, through the largest doorway, he could see a corridor leading deeper.
Deeper into the sealed prison.
Where something called a "Sleeping Princess" was contained.
Every instinct screamed at Kura to stay away from that corridor. To find another route, to escape somehow, to get back to the surface.
But there was no escape route. The shaft he'd fallen down was impossible to climb—hundreds of feet of smooth stone disappearing into darkness above. The sealed doorways wouldn't budge even when he tried his Transmutation on them—the magic was too powerful, too ancient for his level 2 abilities to affect.
The only path was forward.
Into the prison.
Kura stood there, staring at that corridor, his body aching, his mind reeling.
Daisuke had murdered him.
Or tried to.
But Kura was still alive.
And suddenly, standing in this impossible place at the bottom of an ancient dungeon, Kura made a decision.
He wasn't going to die down here.
He wasn't going to let Daisuke win.
He wasn't going to let his story end as a footnote in someone else's tale.
If this world wanted him to be weak, to be nothing, to be erased—it would have to try harder than this.
Kura drew his knife, adjusted his pack, and walked toward the corridor.
Whatever was sealed down here—whatever this "Sleeping Princess" was—he'd face it.
Because the alternative was giving up.
And he was done giving up.