DMS Chapter 120

Flinx was genuinely excited.

That day’s delve would accelerate the growth of his second class. The final floor of the Dungeon of Mara granted an exceptional amount of experience—enough to raise his Cleric class at a pace far beyond normal.

His increased spell capacity only reinforced his confidence. With access to higher-tier spell slots—eighth, ninth, and now even a tenth—his overall combat power had risen significantly. More importantly, he was no longer alone. Pip had gained intelligence and the ability to cast spells, while four formidable wind elementals accompanied him.

Together, they tore through the dungeon.

Even so, it still took him four hours to clear the entire floor. The limitation was no longer his killing speed, but the sheer scale of the dungeon itself. No matter how efficient he became, the size of the floor prevented him from reducing the time further.

Flinx ignored his system interface.

Rather than reviewing his progress after each run, he continued delving until he had completed all three runs for the day. Even then, he resisted the urge to check his results. He intended to wait until the end of the full two-week period before evaluating everything at once.

There was no immediate need for his Cleric abilities, which made the delay manageable.

Even the Adventurer Guild had agreed to his request to settle his taxes every two weeks instead of daily. With access to magic items capable of detecting lies, the guild had no concern over dishonesty. Nor did they worry about him disappearing—his home was nearby, and his family operated a profitable business.

After two weeks of uninterrupted delving, Flinx finally allowed himself to rest.

He took two days off.

Before reviewing his dungeon earnings, he attended to family matters first. It was, after all, the end of the month.

His first stop was Olivia’s shop.

As expected, the business was thriving. The total monthly earnings reached 26,000 gold coins—an extraordinary amount by any standard. True to his promise, Flinx took only 15,600 gold coins. The remaining funds were left for the household: the children’s education, daily expenses, and future needs.

He made his position clear once again.

“I don’t care how you use the money,” he told Olivia. “As long as the family lives well.”

Olivia, however, had her own concerns. While she agreed to save the funds for future investments, she questioned the limits Flinx had placed on the shop’s supply.

Demand continued to rise, and competitors had yet to produce goods of comparable quality.

“That won’t last forever,” Olivia warned. “Eventually, others will catch up. When that happens, our profits will drop.”

Flinx remained firm.

“Then save enough to open another business,” he replied. “I don’t have the time to increase production.”

Over the past few months, Olivia had accumulated approximately 14,400 gold coins. After expenses—education, tuition, food, and other necessities- she still retained a substantial portion of the shop’s earnings.

Flinx also restocked the shop for the coming month, spending around 4,000 dollars through his System Shopping Site. Fortunately, the second floor of the shop was large enough to store the inventory.

He then visited the Adventurer Guild and deposited 1,000 gold coins into each child’s account. It was a long-term plan—one he intended to repeat every month.

He told no one.

David, Arcios, Keero, and Violet would only discover their wealth once they came of age.

Olivia also raised another matter: the children’s education. She had selected a prestigious school that catered to the elite. Given Flinx’s reputation, it was unlikely the children would face mistreatment.

Christopher and Ambrose were progressing as well, though their path toward professional competence would take time.

With everything in order, Flinx finally turned his attention back to his work.

It was time to review the results of two weeks spent clearing the fiftieth floor of the Dungeon of Mara.

After taxes, he had accumulated 685 low-level mana stones, 370 medium-level stones, and 180 high-level stones—all stored within his fourth tab space.

He had also obtained five magical items.

All of them were worthless to him.

He sold them to the guild and, after taxes, received a total of 800 gold coins.

Then came the most important part: experience.

Flinx studied his progress in silence.

His Wizard experience bar had only reached sixteen percent.

It was disappointing, though not unexpected. Despite clearing the dungeon three times a day, the returns at his level were minimal—effectively one percent per day.

However, his Cleric class told a different story.

It had reached level three.

That brought his total level to thirteen.

More importantly, it brought him closer to his objective. Once his Cleric class reached level five, he could finally begin his plan to rescue the Earthlings enslaved by Wizards.

Without hesitation, Flinx began purchasing spells.

He acquired all level one Cleric spells. There were seventeen in total, though he already possessed two through his Wizard class. He purchased the remaining fifteen for 45 low-level mana stones.

Next, he bought all level two Cleric spells. Of the eighteen available, eight overlapped with his existing spells. He spent 60 low-level mana stones to obtain the rest.

Finally, he purchased all level three Cleric spells. Out of twenty-six, five were already in his possession. The remaining spells cost him 210 low-level mana stones.

With that, his Cleric arsenal was complete—for now.

Like his Wizard class, the Cleric granted him one third-level spell slot, two second-level slots, three first-level slots, and six cantrip slots.

Flinx closed the interface.

His power had grown—but not enough.

Not yet.

Based on his calculations, Flinx estimated that it would take six to eight weeks to reach the required levels in both his Wizard and Cleric classes—enough to phase into the world of the Wizard Enslavers.

The goal was within reach.

He could almost grasp it.

Driven by that anticipation, Flinx opened the forum where the Earthling dungeon slaves shared updates about their condition.

What he found shattered his composure.

Five more had died.

Out of the remaining fifty-six Earthlings, five had been killed by the wizards.

For a moment, Flinx could only stare at the report.

Then he began to read the forum thoroughly.

He combed through every entry, every fragmented account his fellow Earthlings had managed to upload over the past few weeks. Piece by piece, a grim picture emerged.

The wizards had discovered another world.

It was similar to Earth—at least in structure—but its inhabitants were vastly different. The dominant species were sentient reptiles. Despite their intelligence, they lacked one critical advantage.

They had no transmigration gifts.

The wizards had already begun abducting them.

Flinx understood the implication immediately.

The Earthlings were no longer valuable.

They were dangerous.

Some of the enslaved Earthlings had overheard conversations among the wizards. There were those who advocated for the complete extermination of all Earth-born slaves. To them, the transmigration system was an uncontrollable anomaly—something that could not be allowed to develop further.

A threat.

A ticking bomb.

Flinx’s pulse quickened.

Delay was no longer an option.

Starting the next day, he resolved to push himself further. Three delves would no longer be enough. He would force himself to clear the fiftieth floor four, even five times a day.

He knew it was unsustainable.

His body would eventually give out under that level of strain.

So he adjusted his plan.

One day, he would complete three runs. Next, he would push for four or five runs. Then he would scale back again, allowing just enough recovery to continue. It was a brutal cycle—but it was the only one he could afford.

Rest had become a liability.

Time, his enemy.

And yet, he felt no fear for himself.

With the addition of his Cleric spells, his strength had reached a point where the monsters of the Dungeon of Mara’s final floor no longer posed a real threat.

The danger lay elsewhere.

And every passing day meant fewer people left to save.