Chapter 17: Nightmare Dungeon [2]

[Narrator POV]

Regeneration magic was one of Claude's original spells—a creation born from necessity and innovation.

Using the foundational principles he had learned from Zenith during his second incarnation as Fred, Claude had experimented relentlessly, combining theories from modern Earth medicine with the mystical frameworks of this world's healing arts.

The result was nothing short of miraculous.

Not only could he restore his depleted stamina, but he could also gradually regenerate missing flesh and tissue.

The spell worked at the cellular level, coaxing his body to rebuild itself far more efficiently than natural healing would allow.

Even more impressive, he could use this same magic to replenish his mana reserves—creating a self-sustaining cycle that had kept him alive these three months in the dungeon's merciless embrace.

Truly magical. A spell that defied the conventional limitations of healing magic in this world.

Claude had taught this regeneration technique to his militia before the teleportation incident, though few had mastered it.

The underlying principles required an understanding of biology that most inhabitants of this world simply didn't possess.

Without Claude's memories from Earth—memories of cellular division, tissue differentiation, and metabolic processes—the spell remained an enigma to all but the most dedicated students.

"Bang!" Claude shouted, channeling mana through his palm to launch a rock bullet toward the bear that had cornered him in a narrow passage.

The projectile, compressed stone accelerated to lethal speeds, would have killed most creatures instantly.

But this was no ordinary bear. The missile merely grazed its thick hide, carving a shallow furrow across its shoulder that served only to enrage the beast further.

GROAAR!

The bear's roar reverberated through the stone corridor, the sound waves physically striking Claude with enough force to momentarily stun him.

In that frozen second, memories from his third incarnation flooded his consciousness—dozens of encounters with these bears, dozens of deaths, dozens of lessons written in blood and pain.

His third incarnation had been the weakest physically of his three previous selves, lacking both Alex's swordsmanship and Fred's magical affinity.

Yet that Claude had possessed something perhaps more valuable: cunning born of desperation and experience. A lifetime spent as a survivor, a tactician, someone who understood that power wasn't everything.

Given another chance and enough time, that incarnation might have developed into a strategist who could rival even the Dragon God, Orsted himself.

"Damn, what the hell!" Claude cursed, twisting his body in a desperate evasion as the bear lunged forward.

Boom!

The bear's paw missed Claude by millimeters, instead striking the dungeon wall with enough force to crack the ancient stone.

Fragments exploded outward, peppering Claude's back with painful shrapnel.

"What?! That damn wall can hold an advanced spell of mine, and it's easily destroyed like that?" Claude's eyes widened in disbelief. "I'm going to get myself killed."

Fear—cold and familiar—coiled in his stomach. Despite his knowledge and abilities, Claude was acutely aware that the monster before him was equivalent to a group of B-ranked adventurers in combat potential.

Though it fell below A-rank due to its lack of magical abilities, its raw physical power could easily demolish fortress gates.

Even Paul Greyrat, with all his skill and experience, would likely perish if ambushed by such a creature.

As Claude continued the deadly dance with the bear—dodging, weaving, striking when possible and retreating when necessary—he delved deeper into the memories of his third incarnation, searching for any advantage.

The Nightmare Dungeon was aptly named. Its corridors and chambers housed monsters that Claude had never encountered in any bestiary or adventurer's handbook.

Yet for all its terrors, the dungeon displayed a curious lack of biodiversity.

In three months of careful exploration, Claude had only encountered three species: rabbits, wolves, and bears.

His progress had been methodical and painstakingly slow. Unlike his reckless third incarnation, Claude refused to advance to a new floor until he had systematically cleared the current level of all threats.

Only then could he feel secure enough to establish a temporary base and gather resources. This cautious approach had cost him time—three months to reach merely the third floor—but it had kept him alive.

Ironically, in following this cautious strategy, Claude had unconsciously mirrored his third incarnation's approach.

What he hadn't fully processed was the peculiar nature of the dungeon itself. Most dungeons in this world followed a predictable pattern: the deeper one ventured, the stronger the monsters became. Yet the Nightmare Dungeon inverted this logic.

Here, the higher one climbed, the more dangerous the creatures.

What did this architectural anomaly signify? Neither Claude nor his third incarnation had deciphered this mystery.

More troubling was the realization that if vorpal rabbits—the weakest denizens of this place—were already formidable enough to require a D-rank adventurer to defeat a single specimen, what monstrosities awaited at the entrance?

A lone vorpal rabbit posed minimal threat to an experienced fighter. But these creatures hunted in packs, and in sufficient numbers, they could overwhelm even B-ranked monsters.

Outside the dungeon, they were considered dangerous pests, targets of extermination quests whenever sightings were reported.

Yet here in the Nightmare Dungeon, they served as mere fodder for the beasts above.

The dungeon had established its own twisted ecosystem. Rabbits consumed the vegetation on the lowest level, occasionally venturing upward only to be devoured by wolves.

Similarly, wolves that strayed too high became prey for the bears. Curiously, none of these creatures ever descended below their respective territories—perhaps guided by instinct or some unseen force.

This pattern would hold until the fifth floor, according to his third incarnation's memories. Beyond that point, new species would enter the equation, bringing fresh horrors and challenges.

"Argghhhhh!"

Claude's strategic reverie shattered as the bear's claws finally found their mark. A seemingly glancing blow tore through his thigh, stripping flesh from bone with terrifying ease.

White-hot pain exploded through his nervous system as blood pumped from the wound in crimson pulses.

Despite his extensive combat experience—both lived and inherited—Claude couldn't suppress the scream that tore from his throat.

He stumbled backward, desperately trying to maintain distance from the predator while his mind raced through options for survival.

There was no scenario where he could defeat this bear while so grievously wounded. His only hope lay in escape.

"Ugh..."

Gritting his teeth against the agony, Claude cauterized the wound with a hastily cast fire spell. The sizzle of burning flesh added a new dimension to his pain, but stemmed the life-threatening blood loss.

With adrenaline flooding his system, he sprinted away from the bear with surprising agility for someone so injured.

The bear roared its frustration, lunging after him—only to trigger a trap magic circle Claude had prepared earlier.

Blue energy flared as the beast triggered the spell, temporarily binding its movements. It wouldn't hold long, but it didn't need to.

Claude needed only enough time to reach the relative safety of his makeshift base.

Once there, Claude collapsed against the wall of the small chamber he had secured with numerous protective enchantments.

His breathing came in ragged gasps as he conjured clean water to flush the wound. The cauterization had served its purpose, but now he needed to reopen the injury to allow his regeneration magic to work properly.

With a strangled groan, he tore away the charred tissue. Fresh blood welled up immediately, but Claude was ready.

Placing his palm over the wound, he channeled mana into the specialized pattern of his regeneration spell.

A soft green glow emanated from his hand, spreading across the injured area like a living lattice.

Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he maintained concentration through the pain. The regeneration process was excruciating—cells multiplying and differentiating at accelerated rates, nerve endings reconnecting, muscle fibers reweaving themselves.

But Claude had endured worse across his multiple existences.

After the immediate danger had passed, Claude used his spatial magic to retrieve fresh clothing from his inventory.

His current garments hung in tatters, soaked with blood and sweat—a liability in an environment where scent could attract predators.

The weapons he had brought from Buena Village had broken one by one during his time in the dungeon. Even those crafted by his first incarnation's expert smithing couldn't withstand indefinite use against the unnaturally tough hides of dungeon creatures.

Fortunately, his item box still contained plenty of replacements—one advantage of preparing for catastrophe.

Claude took a contemplative bite of wolf jerky as he leaned back against the cool stone wall. The tough, gamey meat had become his primary sustenance, preserved using techniques his third incarnation had perfected through deadly trial and error.

With each chew, he systematically analyzed his encounter with the bear, searching for weaknesses he could exploit.

"There's no way I can do something that a lunatic did..." he muttered, thinking of his third incarnation's approach.

That version of himself had taken six years to clear the dungeon, dying repeatedly before finally discovering effective strategies.

But the current Claude didn't have that luxury of time or disposable lives.

"I need to clear this dungeon as soon as possible, meet up with Mike, and deal with any other situations that may come," he continued, his voice echoing softly in the empty chamber. "There's plenty of things that need to be done, and I can't take six years to clear the damn dungeon..."

Claude sighed heavily, lying flat on the ground and staring up at the crystalline formations that dotted the ceiling.

They emitted a faint blue glow—just enough to see by, though their light seemed to feed on ambient mana.

"Ugh... damn it, if only there was a summoning magic or something within my repertoire like the one Perugius had..."

Perugius Dola, the Armored Dragon King, was a legendary hero who had defeated the Demon God Laplace millennia ago.

Now he resided in his flying fortress, Chaos Breaker, a marvel of ancient technology and magic. Perugius had specialized in summoning magic, calling forth powerful entities to fight alongside him. He was widely regarded as the greatest summoner who had ever lived.

Such abilities would be invaluable in Claude's current situation—allowing him to send expendable constructs against the dungeon's denizens rather than risking his own life with each encounter.

Claude slammed his fist against the ground in frustration, then took a deep breath to center himself.

"Argh! There's nothing I can do with moping. Let's review the previous battle and think of a way to deal with these monsters!"

He sat up, wincing as his partially healed thigh protested the movement. Taking a small piece of charcoal from his supplies, Claude began sketching the bear's anatomy on the smooth section of dungeon wall, marking points where he had observed potential vulnerabilities.

The bears had poor eyesight but keen smell and hearing, favored attacking from their right side, and had thick hide that resisted cuts but might be vulnerable to blunt force at joints.

Claude considered using the dungeon's crystalline formations as weapons or distractions. His plan would combine Alex's weapon precision, Fred's magical theory, and his third self's cunning.

He smiled grimly. Unlike other adventurers, he possessed the collective experience of multiple lives and failures. He wasn't just a swordsman, mage, or tactician—he was Claude the Miko, the convergence of many lives.

He refused to become another failure for a future version to remember. The bear would fall tomorrow, then the next floor awaited.