Luna gasped at the sight of me dying and suddenly resurrecting, while Fenrir's fur stood on end, unsettled.

'Try again? I'm scared to!'

I looked back at the weapons rack. Was I... going to have to die again and again?

I s.h.i.+vered a bit, but stepped forward to grab the next sword, readying myself.

Yet another ghostly image appeared and attacked, and I tried to match her flow, but before I could even attempt to figure out what her rhythm was she had struck at me, my sword raising instinctively in a parry she easily flicked aside, and this time the thin fencer-like sword pierced through my lower-torso, and out my back.

Pain flooded through me as a hot spike in my guts, as I clumsily swung my blade at her, while she easily withdrew her sword from me and stepped back, out of reach from my swing.

Right as my swing went wide, she stepped in again, thrusting at my throat, and I bent my body to the side, survival instincts pus.h.i.+ng past the pain in my torso. In response she lowered the sword point to pierce my right shoulder, then withdrew the blade instead of attempting to pierce through bone. This left a wound more useful to cause pain than disable, but the pain was getting to me.

Then as I caught my balance her blade jackknifed at me again, and I tried to get my sword to come back up as it's momentum had finally stopped, but I was too slow, and her blade came closer and closer, filling up my vision.

Then I felt it tear right through my eye and into my head.

I came to, unhurt once again, but I cannot describe to you the pain of having something stab through you eye.

Even after I was fine once more, I felt like magma had melted into my head through my eye, tears falling from pain as I curled up into a ball.

The pain was gone soon as it had come, and I slowly got back to my feet, tremors running through me.

The next fight I felt afraid, constantly backing away, seeking to not be hurt again, but I could only avoid the broadsword for so long and eventually it hacked deep into my shoulder, and as I collapsed screaming, the ghost lifted the sword in a reverse-grip and stabbed it through my spine, pinning me to the ground, and then ripped it back out to hack off my head.

Again and again, I died screaming in pain and fear, and Luna felt more and more horrified until asking the ghost watching it all "Why are you doing this to him!?"

The ghost sighed. "Usually the ones who come here already know their job cla.s.s and talents... this is merely a place to test them. But if one doesn't know or have the experience..."

They watched on as the Foxkin continued this painful experience of death and rebirth.

I felt like I was cracking, painful flashes heat stabbing into me even if nothing happened as I stood yet again. My mind reminding me of the pain.

Huh?

'My... proficiencies... are going up.'

In other words... this was the ultimate place to grind my abilities.

Curiosity filled me as suddenly I forgot the pain, wondering at what could happen if I increase enough spells or techniques.

A light seemed to s.h.i.+ne in the ghosts eye as the nameless fox stopped s.h.i.+vering in fear, now seeming to actually consider the weapons before him. "Ahhh..." a contented sigh came from the Ghost as he smiled.

'???' Luna and Fenrir both looked at him curiously, but he just muttered to himself. "So he's finally looking at this as a learning experience rather than a trial... a warrior needs to rationalize such constant pain, or else he might go insane. I wonder what he's holding onto."

If he knew I was holding onto the idea of grinding in a video game to pull myself through this, I don't know if he'd laugh or cry.

I decided to use more weapon variations, noting that my ability to detect when an attack was imminent had improved, and beginning to attack weak points I was looking for in the techniques thrown at me.

Back and forth, weapons clashed. I died a lot, usually pretty quick, and dealt with the pain as best I could, holding onto something in my mind.

That moment where the Dungeon was first invaded... fighting the Hobgoblin, and guarding the family by slaughtering bandits. It was exhilarating to live in this world, but each conflict was becoming harder and harder.

'I needed to grow stronger...' is what any decent anime protagonist would say. But did I really? So far I've given myself more versatility, inventing various spells, but very little effort has been given to be STRONGER. I don't... feel the need to have so much mana I can destroy everything, or be a G.o.d of magic, like... whatever?

My efforts have mostly been gathering more allies, and strengthening them. Instead of buying Dungeon Upgrades such as automatically learning high-level techniques or gaining more mana(they are SUPER expensive by the way), I got one to increase evolution, got more mobs to fight with.

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Because... I'm not an adventurer. I'm not a wandering swordsmen seeking vengeance, and while I am growing to love the Kitsune and hold disgust for the humans who killed them, I don't feel an all-devouring hatred to kill them.

My 'goal' can be best described as wanting to live a peaceful and happy life with the family I've begun to create in the Dungeon.

And invaders of that home should be killed so as to keep myself and my family safe.

Sure, in the face of my morality it's hypocritical, but the very idea of morality is hypocritical.

So if being a good Dungeon Boss by my standards of what that means requires me to be strong, I will become stronger. But... becoming stronger isn't the goal.

It's a means to an end so that ultimately, I can selfishly live in relative peace.

So the goal I'm holding onto... is to be a good Dungeon Boss I guess.

As I came back to life yet again, thoughts and emotions crystallizing in my mind to be clear towards what I truly want out of this, I grab a bladed spear, and as the next ghost appears, I am focused.

There is no thought, no action. My mind s.h.i.+nes crystal clear. What is my job? To defeat the enemy before me, as a warrior myself. How? I need not think of that.

Just focus. See their eyes glance as they ready an attack, note the s.h.i.+ft in footing as they change their stance, see the tendon flex as the wrist prepares to twist.

My mind is a clear pool of water, crystalline. All they do is reflected in that water.

The ghost watching felt it as the air changed, and Luna's attention caught on the Foxkin as he stood.

'He radiates... peace.'

In the face of all the misery the town had been giving off, which Luna could best sense as "gloomy atmosphere" with her 12 soul, which was pretty high honestly, the air around that Foxkin felt as if everything was frozen, calm and silent.

Then the ghost attacked, spear thrusting forth, and it was like a ripple in the lake.

One beat. A ripple of music. Foot placed, arm raised.

Two beats, the second ripple of water, as I swung the spear as if a staff. I paid no mind to how a spear 'should' be used, I just used it however I could. Regardless of weapon, merely wield them all as you can.

Drowned out by the music, the tune, the ripple, I don't hear it. My spear swings, catching the thrust, throwing the ghosts spear aside, and I finished the movement so the spear tip pointed forward, transferring fluidly into a thrust.

It changed so smoothly, it appeared as if they were not two different attacks, because to me they weren't. Every movement intersected as one symphony of battle, so how could I need to form the next step? The music wasn't going to wait for me.