Walking, fighting, resting a bit, then walking and fighting again for a full five hours.
The exploration of the second underground floor was completed.
“Phew…. The sun must be setting outside by now…”
In front of the entrance leading down to the third floor, Bolton muttered these words while wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead.
This must have been his first experience with such continuous battles, as he showed clear signs of fatigue.
“…It’s wider than I thought.”
Amy’s voice, responding, was also steeped in fatigue.
Unlike warriors who are nothing but corpses without their stamina, was this a bit of a tough march for a priest or magician to handle?
Looking at both of them, it seemed they would have difficulty fighting anymore.
“Let’s stop here for today, and investigate the third floor tomorrow.”
So we should rest.
Taking the exhausted two into the third underground floor would only slow us down rather than speeding up the clearing, and it would be fortunate if we didn’t end up being a hindrance.
With bad luck, one of us might even end up dead.
There’s a saying that trying to go five minutes ahead might send you fifty years ahead instead. That wasn’t just a proverb used for driving.
“That sounds good.”
“I agree. I don’t have many spells left to use either.”
Bolton and Amy agreed with sighs of relief, as if they had been waiting for this.
Judging by their brightening attitudes, it seemed they had been struggling, wanting to say ‘let’s rest a bit’ but unable to voice it.
“Going to sleep already? Humans sleep too fast!”
Kikel seemed a bit disappointed. Saying he still had a long way to go before getting tired, and we’re already preparing to camp?
It was a bit funny.
What was this guy saying, when he looked like he’d have to choose between hibernation and eternal sleep if we took away his cloak?
“We need to rest. We easily broke through the first floor, but the second floor was a bit troublesome, right? Then from the third floor, it’s likely to get somewhat tricky.”
I explained the reason to Kikel.
“So, we need to be in perfect condition in case of any eventuality.”
With a few exceptions, dungeons tend to increase in difficulty the deeper you go. This place should be no different.
Always take sufficient rest before descending to the next floor. That was common sense in dungeon exploration.
* * *
And so, with the entrance to the third underground floor right before us, we began preparing to camp.
Camp preparation wasn’t anything grand, just roughly clearing the surroundings, then eating a meal with dried rations, and simply lying down using cloaks as sleeping bags, that was all.
For long-term missions or outdoor missions, people would prepare proper sleeping bags, but few people brought sleeping bags for low-level dungeon exploration missions.
It’s all luggage, you see.
If you carry cooking utensils, preserved food, and sleeping bags, it’s not much different from carrying full military gear… and between someone with full gear and someone without, who would fight better?
The weight of the luggage itself isn’t much, but fighting with something strapped to your back is incredibly cumbersome.
Therefore, for adventurers, sleeping bags were nothing but a luxury.
There are people called ‘porters’ who carry such luggage instead…
But for me, knowing that this world was the world inside a novel, the job of porter was my number one thing to avoid.
Why, you ask?
Well, because I’m a former hero party member.
A hero party member from a RDO novel and a porter. Just hearing it gives an overwhelmingly ominous feeling, doesn’t it?
I’m too scared to hire one.
Porters for hero parties are the kind of people who wouldn’t be out of place carrying brainwashing apps.
If I brought such people into the party, I’d end up having experiences that couldn’t even be described in an all-ages novel.
…Well, for such reasons, I avoided porters.
As a result, it was extremely rare for me to sleep in a sleeping bag… but well, since other adventurers were in a similar situation, there was nothing to feel particularly wronged about.
“What, am I the only one who brought a sleeping bag?”
“Ah, I have one too. Though it’s a bit old.”
Of course, that was only limited to warriors for whom speed and stamina were lifelines.
Priests and magicians who only cast spells from the back had no problem with heavier luggage, so they tended to be very meticulous about their own comfort.
…Who would want to be a warrior with this kind of treatment?
* * *
After filling our stomachs by chewing on dried meat, we chose a corner of the dungeon corridor to set up our sleeping area.
“How should we handle the night watch—”
“No need. I have an alarm magic, if I set it up before sleeping, it will last until tomorrow morning.”
Amy demonstrated the superiority of magicians.
Alarm magic.
One of the reasons magicians were not just popular but revered among adventurers, it was magic that eliminated the need for night watches, ensuring comfortable sleep.
“We’ll be fine, but Kikel is the problem… Should we light a campfire?”
Bolton said, glancing towards Kikel as he spread out his sleeping bag. With an expression that seemed to say, won’t he freeze to death in his sleep?
“Here?”
It was a troublesome suggestion.
“We could burn shields or spear shafts for firewood… but managing it so it doesn’t go out would be a task in itself.”
A campfire isn’t something that burns brightly for 6 hours straight just by lighting it, like in games.
“It’s fine!”
Kikel shook his head.
“I’ll sleep hugging Bolton!”
Proposing a bizarre solution as if it were a proper answer.
“…What?”
Bolton asked back with a bewildered face.
“What do you mean…?”
A face asking what he just heard. An expression like a pope who had just had heliocentrism denied.
* * *
After a long argument, Bolton and Kikel reached a dramatic agreement. Instead of hugging, they would sleep pressed close together.
For Bolton, it must have been unavoidable.
If they lit a campfire, a third of their sleep time would be lost managing the fire, but leaving Kikel unattended didn’t sit well with his conscience as a clergyman.
Moreover, even though he was a lizard, Kikel was still clearly male, so he couldn’t ask me or Amy to let him sleep hugging us.
So what choice did he have? He had to close his eyes tight and sacrifice himself.
“Haa…”
Bolton, with a face like Jesus climbing Golgotha, walked over to Kikel’s side, spread his sleeping bag next to him, and lay down obediently.
“Come here, get in. It’s warmer!”
Kikel, who was lying face down with his eyes closed, spread his fur cloak to the side and suggested that Bolton come in and sleep under it.
It would certainly be warmer. If one could bear the discomfort.
“…That’s a bit much. I’ll decline.”
Of course, Bolton rejected Kikel’s offer with a tone of utter distaste.
With a face that said, it’s uncomfortable enough sleeping next to you, do we have to share a blanket too?
I sat near Amy, watching this farce, leaning my back against the wall and covering my body with my cloak like a blanket.
“You’re going to sleep like that?”
Amy, who was getting into her sleeping bag, said with an exasperated tone.
Well, I was trying to sleep sitting up without taking off even my helmet, let alone my armor. It would look uncomfortable to anyone.
“This is comfortable for me.”
However, from my perspective, this posture was much more comfortable.
If I lay down on the ground with my helmet on, I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep because my head would be uncomfortable.
Moreover, even if someone tried to ambush me, I could jump up and respond immediately.
Of course, when I return to the inn room, I do take off my armor and lie down on the bed to sleep, but when camping, since I can’t take off my helmet, sitting to sleep was the best option.
“That must be really comfortable. If you don’t want to lie on the bare ground, want to borrow my sleeping bag? It’s quite spacious inside, despite appearances. It’s enough for two people…”
Amy grinned and slightly opened the entrance of her sleeping bag. Saying if I wanted, we could sleep together.
It wasn’t the first time I’d heard such a proposal.
Most of the female adventurers I had met so far had made similar suggestions after seeing how I slept.
Women seemed to have no qualms about sharing sleeping bags. Unlike men who would be disgusted just by sleeping pressed together, like Bolton and Kikel.
Is it because they’re a species that even goes to the bathroom holding hands?
As someone who was originally a man, it was a psychology I found hard to understand.
“I’ll just accept the thought.”
Of course, I had never accepted such proposals.
It wouldn’t be right for me, who has a man’s mind, to take advantage of the goodwill of those who show intimacy thinking I’m a woman…
…It wasn’t because of such sentimental reasons.
“I can’t fall asleep due to tension when I’m not wearing armor and helmet.”
To sleep in the same sleeping bag, I would inevitably have to take off my armor. So it was a proposal I couldn’t accept.
At least, not until Brunhilde the female knight was completely forgotten from people’s minds.
“Just how much have you suffered…”
Perhaps my excuse, thrown out as a cover, was well received.
Amy looked at me with a face like seeing a starving puppy and let out a faint sigh. Firmly closing the sleeping bag she had opened.
So we tried to sleep. For about seven hours.
There was no need to wake up in the middle, and it wasn’t that cold, so it should have been quite a comfortable sleep for camping.
“…No, Mr. Kikel. Please don’t cling to me…!”
“Kaak… Kagaa… Kshuuuu…”
“Oh Elianelle… why do you give me such a trial…!”
…Or not?
* * *
The next morning.
After eating a meal with rations and about thirty minutes of personal maintenance… dealing with ‘physiological phenomena’ and such, we finally entered the third underground floor.
“The flow of magic has thickened… I thought it would be about five floors, but it was surprisingly shallow.”
Amy, who had been looking around constantly since coming down to the third floor, declared with a confident tone. That this dungeon would end with the third floor.
It was welcome news to hear.
…Though the visitors that came five minutes later were not so welcome.
“Kra… Nariik…”
“Kao Lahrk…!”
Monsters crawling around with a leisurely attitude, perhaps not having noticed us yet.
Unlike the skeletons that elicited exclamations of admiration, these boasted an appearance so ugly it made you want to vomit just looking at them.
Skin half-rotten and swarming with maggots.
Their jaws were not just wide open, but the upper part had flipped over to the back of their necks, and inside the gaping throat, a giant slug was squirming.
Their two arms were twisted and elongated like grasshopper limbs, supporting their upper bodies with exposed ribs, and their legs were fused into one, curled forward like a scorpion’s tail.
Crawling around in such a state, supporting themselves with their hands on the ground, they were bizarre to the point of being hideous.
“…Aren’t those wights?”
“I think so…?”
Amy nodded.
“Wow, to see wights here…”
I let out a deep sigh.
For wights to appear right from the start, it seemed like the road of hardship was wide open.