An Extra’s POV

The Boss had been slain.

The great heroes had fallen.

However, if there was a silver lining, it was the mere fact that, just like before—when the lights of Mass Teleportation flashed out—everyone suddenly found themselves on the ground floor.

The thousands of Adventurers—an approximate number of 5,700—made it to the place where it all began.

The stony walls of the Dungeon's door echoed with salvation, and every single soul who gazed upon it cried tears of joy and raised their hands in victory.

In terms of loot, not many things were gained from the mission. Sure, the Adventurers were able to take many Items and ores from whatever Zones they found themselves in, but those were simply the ones lying around.

No one had the time to actively search for treasures of mine the heck out of the Dungeons.

Miasma was a corrosive element to humans, so naturally, any proceeds from the Dungeon would have the taint of corruption. Still, it was possible to purify Miasma-powered Items, or even wields it as it is.

If Miasma was poisonous to humans, it was the same for Monsters who weren't Undead.

As such, when fighting powerful beasts, imbuing Miasma into one's attacks was a sure way of dealing more damage and achieving victory. Of course, overexposure to Miasma was a detrimental thing, and several consequences followed.

However, with the aid of sufficient defensive measures, that consequence could be delayed or downright halted.

The bottom line was, despite the sheer scale of the Conquest, and the overall lives as well resources that were expended to challenge the Grand Calamity Class Dungeon, the benefits they gained was as impressive.

No Adventurer thought about that, though—not yet, at the very least.

Right now, the only thing on their mind was the very definition of an Adventurer; FREEDOM!

Many who thought they would have to spend even more days searching for the exit were overjoyed. The ones who had the hidden fear that they would be trapped in there forever were happily disproven.

we can go

the fresh breeze, rather than the

men and women burst out

cried for

obvious reason was for the mere fact that they survived the onslaught that wiped out

second was for those comrades who had perished within the Grand Calamity Class Dungeon. The Adventurers honored them

reason for their tears and loud cries was for the man who had brought them this far;

them, they would have perished, without the shadow

into the heavens, everyone

"Sir Jet… THANK YOU!"

now—despite having lost so many people, including the

of everyone, like a leader braving the storm, was Sherlock. Beside him was Britta, and they both

everyone saw them move, they

instinctive—the response to the hierarchy that existed at

Sherlock's grasp, and Britta's resolute face giving off the very definition of strength, the Adventurers knew they

Heroic Rank Adventurers remained, but these two were no longer

to be

and lead the Adventurers into

world

**************

"That was a chore…"

he could adjust himself to the current state of the

corpses, destroyed by Esme's Magic, surrounded the two of them. Just from the looks of things,

Greater Undead , with a sprinkle of the

voice woke him out

safely." He said with another tired sigh. "As for Adonis and the rest,

time discrepancy—with maybe the time in the Dungeon flowing faster or slower than in the real world—but based on what he