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Arlon moved.

His first targets were the closest monsters—massive, towering non-humanoids that lunged at him with raw, overwhelming strength.

They were fast, but not faster than him.

He weaved between them, blade flashing as he struck vital points with precision.

However, even as he fought, he wasn't thinking about killing them.

It was actually much better if they didn't die.

He was positioning himself.

Each step, each attack, each movement—he made sure to keep these colossal creatures between himself and the barrage of spells coming from the enemy mages.

Using their thick bodies as temporary shields, he cut off the mages' line of sight, reducing their ability to target him accurately.

It was a risky strategy.

He knew it wouldn't last forever.

The moment the boss decided to interfere, she could easily blink past these obstacles and strike at him directly.

But for now, it bought him time.

And time was all he needed.

Unless…

His eyes narrowed slightly.

If this boss had a title similar to his—something that boosted her stats beyond normal limits—then this was a gamble he couldn't afford to take.

However, unless she had such an absurd title, Arlon was confident in at least one thing: he could outlast her.

Mana.

The battle wasn't just about raw power; it was about attrition.

And no matter how powerful she was, if her mana reserves weren't significantly enhanced like his, then eventually, she would run dry before he did.

Of course, that was just a theory.

He couldn't stake his life on a mere assumption.

If things reached that point, he would use it as a last resort, but he needed to prepare other options first.

In the meantime, the monster in front of him—one of the massive creatures he had been using as cover—suddenly collapsed.

But not because of him.

One of the mages had finished it off with a well-placed spell.

Arlon clicked his tongue.

That was a problem.

The moment these massive creatures died, the battlefield would open up, and the mages would no longer have any obstructions between them and him.

He needed to act now.

Without hesitation, he activated one of his new spells—one he hadn't used in battle before.

Super Haste.

Or at least, that was what he had named it for now.

It functioned just like his usual Haste spell, but the acceleration effect was amplified several times over, pushing time to move at an even more extreme pace.

However, he couldn't use it on himself.

Not directly, anyway.

If he did, his body would be moving so fast that his own reflexes wouldn't be able to keep up, and he would crash into something before he even realized what had happened.

So, instead, he targeted the ground.

But not beneath himself this time.

This time, he aimed at the ground beneath the enemy mages.

At first, nothing happened.

Even the mages who had instinctively stepped back when they saw him cast a spell eventually moved forward again, realizing that there was no immediate effect.

And that was exactly what he wanted.

A minute passed.

The battle continued, back and forth, with spells flying and weapons clashing.

Then—

Crack.

A sharp, jagged fissure split the ground apart beneath the enemy mages.

And the moment it began, the entire section of the battlefield under their feet crumbled.

The mages barely had time to react.

In an instant, they were thrown into a massive pit that had formed beneath them.

Arlon had known this floor well—had memorized its structure—and he had used that knowledge to his advantage.

But this wasn't just about knowing the terrain.

This was one of his newly developed techniques.

During his two-year journey to and from Floor ???, he had experimented with ways to bypass the restrictions of his Fuse skill.

Since Fuse only allowed him to combine one warrior ability and one mage ability at a time, he had worked on alternative methods to create hybrid spells outside of that system.

And one of the successful results was this.

By combining Teleport and Super Haste, he had managed to shift time magic beneath the surface without leaving any external traces of its activation.

Enemy mages were trained to detect spells the moment they were cast.

But in this case, there had been nothing to see.

The spell had been buried beneath them, invisible until it was too late.

Of course, it probably wouldn't work against the boss. But they weren't the boss.

And now, the result was clear.

None of the level 299 mages had died from the fall, of course.

That would have been too much to hope for.

But they had been disrupted.

They wouldn't be casting any spells for at least thirty seconds while they scrambled to regain their footing.

And that was all the time he needed.

Without hesitation, Arlon blinked forward, appearing inside the pit.

Before any of them could react, he swung his sword.

One clean slash.

One clean kill.

A mage's head separated from his body, blood spraying into the air as Arlon turned toward his next target.

But just as he was about to swing again—

A branch shot forward, intercepting his strike.

Not a branch.

A staff.

A weapon made of a material so dark, so unnaturally smooth, that it almost seemed to drink in the surrounding light.

It had appeared out of nowhere, blocking his sword at the last possible moment.

The force of his attack clashed against it, sending vibrations up his arm.

He didn't even need to look to know whose it was.

The boss.

He jumped back immediately, not risking a direct engagement yet.

Two enemies had died within the span of a few minutes.

That was an achievement.

At this rate, it could take days to kill just a handful of them, maybe even less, so every kill mattered.

But now, his first trump card had been revealed.

That was still fine.

Because he had prepared more than one.

And the next one was already ready to be unleashed.