The descent through the Dungeon never ceased to hum with quiet hostility, like a beast always watching.
Floor 17 had proven disappointingly easy for Zamasu. But he pressed onward, drawn by the thought that something—anything—on the way to Floor 18 might finally offer him stimulation.
The passage to Floor 18 stretched out in front of him like a great vein running through the earth.
Unlike the uniform corridors of earlier floors, this one widened unevenly, with jutting outcroppings and towering walls that glimmered with faint bioluminescent moss.
Pools of stagnant water filled the shallow dips in the ground, reflecting the green and blue light in wavering patterns.
The air was cooler here, tinged with a strange metallic scent.
Zamasu walked calmly, his white toga clean despite the dozens of monsters he had slain since morning.
His silver hair caught the light, glowing faintly like moonlight against the dark stone around him. His breathing was steady. His posture relaxed.
He didn't expect anything to stop him. He merely hoped for something that would make him feel something.
That hope was almost granted when a two-headed hound burst out from a crevice ahead of him, snarling with drool flying from both sets of jaws.
The creature's claws scraped against the ground as it charged, leaving shallow furrows in the stone.
Zamasu stopped walking.
He waited until the beast lunged—then raised his fist and met its leap with a punch to its lower chest. There was a brief moment where the creature seemed frozen in midair… then it crumpled inward like a broken puppet.
Its corpse hit the ground in a heap, twitching for less than a second before vanishing into glowing ash.
He looked down at the core it left behind—larger than the regulars, perhaps worth a bit more. He picked it up and rolled it in his palm thoughtfully before slipping it into his robe.
"it feels like that one's stronger," he muttered, barely impressed.
He continued walking.
Not five minutes passed before more enemies came. Three Dungeon ants the size of wolves scrambled across the tunnel walls toward him, their mandibles clicking together in anticipation.
They were faster than the monsters above Floor 10, more coordinated—but it didn't matter.
The first tried to leap onto his back. Zamasu caught it by the head without even looking, swung it around, and slammed it into the ground with such force that the stone cracked beneath the impact.
The second reared up on its hind legs, clicking madly. He stepped forward and punched it between its eyes. Its head caved in.
The third paused—then tried to flee.
Zamasu's eyes narrowed. A quick burst of speed forward like a bullet caught up to it and gave a swift back hand strike.
The fleeing ant's head snapped back violently before it disintegrated like the others.
He picked up the two larger cores and moved on without a word.
The deeper into the passage he went, the more the air seemed to hum. The light grew softer. More ambient.
The Dungeon's quiet rhythm slowed, as though this section had been resting for years. Even the monsters began to appear less frequently, giving him long stretches of silence between fights.
Then came a serpent-like monster with thick armor plating and a spiked tail.
It hissed as it slithered from behind a crumbling rock wall, the plates along its back clicking together as it reared up, preparing to strike.
Zamasu didn't stop.
As the creature lunged, he sidestepped. With a twist of his waist, he delivered a spinning kick to the base of its neck.
The crawler's body stiffened, then collapsed in an awkward coil before it dissolved like the rest.
The core it dropped glowed faintly with a copper hue. Zamasu pocketed it, sighing quietly.
It was all becoming routine—lift arm, swing fist, collect glowing stone.
At least they're not screaming anymore, he thought.
He took a few more steps when something unusual caught his eye.
Near the edge of the corridor, partially buried beneath the rock wall, something gleamed.
The walls here looked older. Less uniform. As if this stretch of Dungeon had formed differently than the ones above.
Stone gave way to patches of dense mineral, and at some point, the light from glowing moss reflected faintly off something… off.
He stopped.
Near the side of the corridor, just beyond a thick outcrop of jagged stone, something dull and metallic caught his eye.
It wasn't glowing like a magic stone, and it wasn't shaped like a weapon or shield.
Curious, Zamasu approached.
Buried partially under rubble and dust was a massive slab—rounded on the edges and flattened in the middle.
A disc, if he had to describe it, though not perfectly round. More of an irregular oval. It stretched nearly two meters across and looked like it had been lying there for centuries.
He knelt beside it, brushing his fingers across the surface.
It felt cold. Not as cold as steel, but cooler than the surrounding air. Its color was silvery, but not polished—dull in a way that suggested it wasn't refined for beauty, but for function.
There were no markings. No carvings. No signs of it being part of a trap or machine. Just raw, solid material.
And yet… it was light.
Zamasu placed both hands on the edges and pulled.
To his surprise, the object came free from the ground with barely any resistance. Despite its size, it weighed no more than a small training dummy. He flipped it vertically, inspecting both sides.
Still the same. No emblem, no magic circle, no rust.
Just unassuming metal.
He raised a brow. "This can't be regular steel."
Steel, copper, bronze—none of them were this light. Titanium? Maybe.
But even that wouldn't be this easy to lift in a chunk this large.
It didn't match anything he'd handled before in this world or the last.
He tapped it with a knuckle.
The sound was clean, almost musical. A high-pitched metallic ping echoed through the cavern for a moment before fading into silence.
A thoughtful expression crossed his face.
Could it be a Dungeon-born alloy? he wondered. Some material native only to this strange realm? A mineral twisted by magic and time?
Whatever it was, it intrigued him.
It wasn't pretty—not yet—but it was useful. He could have a blacksmith shape it. Cut it. Maybe even use it to create an outfit.
If it was this light, then he wouldn't need to worry about weight distribution in a cloak or chest plate in the future.
Maybe it could be forged into his arm guards, or even shaped into a weapon like the z sword.
Even if it had no magical properties, its lightness alone made it valuable.
He stood up straight and turned the slab in his hands, tilting it toward the faint bioluminescence around him.
The texture wasn't smooth like glass, but it had potential. With a little polish, it could gleam like silver.
"This could be worth something," he muttered aloud. "If not to me, then to a blacksmith. Or the Guild."
He considered the possibility of selling it outright.
Mythical materials—assuming this was one—fetched incredible prices, especially those pulled from the Dungeon itself.
"If I'm truly lucky, the Guild might pay extra for this if it's an unidentifiable or rare find, hmm…"
"But knowing I got this so easy and on lower floors, I doubt it's that valuable."
"This'll do nicely," he said, tucking the massive disc under his left arm and shifting his pouch to his right hip.
It fit snugly against his body. Surprisingly ergonomic for something not meant to be carried.
That's when he realized something else.
With this much bulk under one arm, he couldn't carry anything else of note—not easily, anyway. No more cores. No materials he might find.
He looked down the corridor again. The passage still led deeper, curving slightly toward the entrance of Floor 18.
He could continue. The monsters were easy enough. But…
He shifted the disc again, getting a feel for its weight. It was manageable, but annoying enough to slow him down in battle and it occupied one arm.
And he wasn't here to get sloppy.
"No point pushing further while I'm half-occupied," he reasoned. "I can come back."
His eyes flicked across the ground around him—he'd passed at least four areas earlier where the monster cores had been large and worth collecting.
He decided to backtrack briefly.
Carefully balancing the disc, he made his way back, bending only for the largest cores—the ones with brighter glows and stronger pulses.
By the time he reached the spot where he'd fought the double-headed hound earlier, his robe was at its limit.
He gave the passage one last glance before turning around fully.
"I'll come back for the rest," he said calmly.
With that, Zamasu began his walk back through the Dungeon. His steps echoed against stone, the faint light of moss and fungi lighting his path forward.
On one arm, a mysterious metal. And his other, clasping his clothes full of proof that nothing in this place could challenge him yet.
But soon… perhaps Floor 18 would.
Chapter 19 end
Current power level — 93
Amma start putting the battle power at the end of each fighting or training chapter.