17. Sign of change

Guild Headquarters – Morning

Orcbolg sat across from Eina Tulle, his Guild advisor.

She adjusted her glasses, scanning the reports. "You're asking about monster activity in the middle floors?"

"Yes."

Eina frowned. "I can't say much, but… some adventurers reported unusual behaviors. Monsters that normally wouldn't cooperate acting in groups. Some are displaying higher intelligence."

Orcbolg remained silent.

"It's still just rumors," she continued. "The Guild is monitoring it, but we haven't found proof of new species appearing."

Orcbolg nodded.

Then he asked the real question:

"Any specific locations?"

Eina hesitated.

"...The reports mostly come from the 13th and 14th floors. If you're going, be careful."

Dungeon – 13th Floor

Orcbolg moved quietly through the mist-covered corridors.

This floor was home to Minotaurs, Almiraj, and Hellhounds. Dangerous, but predictable.

Yet something felt wrong.

The air was too still.

Then—he saw it.

An Unnatural Scene

A group of Almiraj—rabbit-like monsters known for ambushing prey—stood in formation.

Not hiding. Not scattered. Standing together.

Waiting.

Orcbolg's grip tightened on his sword.

He picked up a small stone and tossed it near them.

Immediately, all their heads snapped toward the noise.

Coordinated.

He had seen this behavior before. In goblins.

But not in Dungeon-born monsters.

Something was changing.

The Attack

A low growl rumbled from the mist.

Orcbolg turned, raising his shield—

A Hellhound lunged.

Its flaming breath ignited the air—but he was faster.

He slammed his shield forward, deflecting the blast. Rolled. Brought his sword down—

SHK!

The Hellhound collapsed, but the Almiraj pack was already moving.

Orcbolg didn't retreat.

He studied their formation—found the weak point—then attacked.

A Tactical Victory

He feinted left, drawing three Almiraj forward.

Then—he threw a smoke bomb.

The creatures hesitated.

Orcbolg struck from the side, cutting through them before the others reacted.

When the mist cleared, only one remained.

It stared at him.

Then—it turned and ran.

Orcbolg didn't chase.

It wasn't normal for Dungeon monsters to retreat.

Something was very, very wrong.