The monstrous body of Lord Ergus collapsed with a thunderous crash, sending a shockwave through the scorched battlefield. His once-mighty frame lay still, steam rising from the charred flesh and molten cracks that riddled his armour. The cavern walls bore the scars of their brutal confrontation—deep fissures and melted stone painting a vivid mural of destruction. The air still shimmered with residual heat, carrying the scent of sulfur, blood, and burnt earth.
Shirou stood in the centre of the devastation, breathing heavily, his body bruised and scorched. His tattered cloak fluttered weakly in the heated wind, and his knuckles bled from tightly gripped fists. The battle had pushed him to the edge, and every inch of him ached with the weight of survival.
Then, a familiar chime echoed in his ears, and a transparent blue window appeared before him.
[You have defeated Lord Ergus.]
[You have levelled up.]
[You have reached Level 50.]
[HP and MP fully restored.]
A sudden surge of vitality coursed through his body. The soreness in his muscles vanished, and his wounds began to knit together—not fully healed, but enough that the pain dulled significantly. A comfortable warmth wrapped around his limbs as if the system itself was congratulating him with a healing embrace.
"MP and HP restoration every five levels… yeah," Shirou murmured, flexing his fingers and rolling his shoulder. "That's a damn useful feature. I'd be crawling on the ground otherwise."
[Selecting a skill from the opponent…]
Shirou's lips curled into a hopeful smirk. "Alright, let's see what prize I get this time."
[You have obtained: Ashbringer ]
"Huh?" Shirou blinked. "Wait—what? A sword?"
He stared at the notification, then frowned. "I thought I'd get a skill, like a fire resistance buff or one of those ground-shattering flame attacks… or maybe even Ergus' physical strength. But a sword? How's that even a skill?"
The system, as usual, ignored him.
[You have completed the 30th floor.]
[You have obtained: Return Stone.]
He let out a groan, rubbing his temples. "Stop ignoring me. Why the hell would I want another sword? I already have Emberstorm. Can't you give me something I don't already have?"
He then turned to where the Ashbringer lay, half-buried in the dirt beside Ergus's corpse. The blade was massive—easily longer than Shirou was, tall, thick as a tree trunk, and emanating a lingering heat. "No way I'm using that. Might as well sell it—if anyone can actually carry it."
Still, a small glint of curiosity flickered in his eyes. Shirou crossed his arms and eyed the massive weapon that now lay among the debris. Ashbringer glowed faintly, its blade forged from a dark red metal that shimmered with residual mana.
"I guess I should at least take a look before whining," he muttered and opened his inventory. Sure enough, the sword had been stored there, its massive weight somehow compressed into data.
With a thought, he summoned it.
The weapon materialized with a flash of crimson light and a thunderous clang. Shirou instinctively reached out and caught it—only to nearly drop it as the overwhelming weight tugged at his arms.
"Holy crap!" he gasped. "This thing's bigger than I am! Who the hell was supposed to use this? A freaking giant?"
The broadsword towered over him, nearly as tall as his entire body, its blade thick enough to be used as a wall. The hilt was wrapped in blackened leather, and strange red veins pulsed through the metal like the heartbeat of a beast.
"There's no way I can swing this," he muttered.
"What am I supposed to do with it? Use it as a shield? Damn stupid system."
Then, without warning, the sword began to glow faintly. The air around it shimmered as its structure twisted and reshaped before his eyes. Metal groaned and shrank, and the sword's dimensions adjusted rapidly—shortening, narrowing, lightening—until it rested perfectly in his grip, sized to fit him like a glove.
Shirou stared, wide-eyed. "What the hell…"
He studied the transformed blade. The hilt was wrapped in a deep crimson leather, supple and worn yet sturdy. The blade itself shimmered with red and orange hues, like a still-burning coal. Wave-like patterns danced across the metal, creating the illusion of fire flickering along its edges.
He ran his hand along the flat of the blade, feeling the strange pull of familiarity. This sword felt right. As if it had been forged not for Lord Ergus, but for him.
Then it hit him.
A wave of information surged into his brain—a cascade of instinct, muscle memory, and years of battle-hardened experience compressed into a single moment. Shirou staggered slightly, but the feeling wasn't painful. Just overwhelming.
As the sensation faded, his eyes sharpened. He now understood the Ashbringer—how to wield it, channel mana through it, and unlock its latent powers.
He raised the sword and let his mana flow into it.
Flames ignited instantly, licking up the blade in controlled streams of heat. Unlike Emberstorm, which required a focused effort to channel mana, Ashbringer responded effortlessly, as though it was an extension of his own arm.
He gave the sword a few test swings—each one smoother than the last. The weapon adjusted its weight minutely with every movement, making his swings seamless and fluid.
He opened his status window and tapped on the weapon's details.
> [Ashbringer – Fire Mana-Enhanced Sword (100%)]
[Properties:
>Can induce fire mana at 100% efficiency.
>While holding the sword, the user is completely immune to all fire-based attacks.]
Shirou's jaw dropped. "100% efficiency? Are you kidding me?"
No weapon he had ever seen or heard of could use mana so perfectly. There was always some loss. Always. But this? It was perfect.
"And fire immunity too? Damn."
He grinned wide, eyes gleaming with excitement."Okay, I take it back, system. You're not completely useless after all."
Curious to test it, he drew the blade again.
"Ashbringer—Flame Edge."
The blade erupted in dark red flames, far more intense than Emberstorm. With a single swing, he cleaved a boulder in half as though it were paper. The sword's edge didn't just cut—it incinerated.
"Yup," Shirou said with a whistle. "Definitely stronger. Emberstorm can't even compare."
He raised the blade once more.
"Ashbringer—Crimson Arc!"
A wave of fire arced out, slicing through another rock formation. The impact wasn't as strong as Flame Edge, but it had decent range and power.
"Definitely weaker than Flame Edge since it's a ranged slash, but still powerful. That's fair."
He grinned to himself, already enjoying the feel of this new weapon.
Now came the real test.
Shirou raised the sword and channelled more mana.
"Ashbringer—Inferno Surge!"
A vortex of flame exploded from the tip of the blade, spiralling forward like a flaming drill. It obliterated the rocky field ahead, melting stone and leaving nothing but scorched black earth behind.
"Damn. That's the same move Ergus used on me… Now I can use it."
But he wasn't done yet.
He steadied his stance and then activated the final ability.
"Ashbringer—Phoenix Burst!"
A wave of fire burst from the blade in a sweeping arc, engulfing everything in its path. The cavern echoed with the roar of heat as the flames surged outward, obliterating a massive stone outcropping ahead. The shockwave reverberated through the chamber like the roar of a mythical beast.
Shirou narrowed his eyes. "So… Phoenix Burst covers a wider area—good for groups. But Inferno Surge hits harder in a single direction. Makes sense that Inferno Surge hits harder, but damn, both are insane."
His gaze fell on the now-silent battlefield; the only sound was his calm breaths.
Then, he sighed and looked upward.
"You could've at least told me I'd get a sword," he grumbled at the sky. "Would've saved me a fortune on Emberstorm…"
Still, despite his complaints, there was a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Ashbringer had exceeded his expectations in every way.
He dismissed the blade, and it vanished into his inventory with a pulse of red light.
Now, his attention shifted to the blue portal glowing in the distance. The exit.
With steady steps, he walked toward it. As he approached, he raised his hand—only to feel an invisible resistance halt him.
"Yeah… figured," he muttered.
[Floor 31 locked for 20 days, 20 hours, 20 minutes, 20 seconds.]
"What's with the fancy countdown?"
[You are being teleported to your world.]
Before he could say another word, a white light enveloped him.