Transmigrated Indian Boy: Job Change to the Arcane Technomancer

As the dust settled from the massacre on Floor 10, the Awakening Dungeon trembled, reacting to the overwhelming force that had just been unleashed. The shattered remains of the Warborn Juggernauts still lingered as faint traces of mana, dissolving into particles of light that faded into the void above. The battlefield, once an ancient ruin, now resembled a war zone—the very ground beneath Ankush's feet fractured beyond recognition, crushed under the sheer intensity of his casual destruction.

But the dungeon did not stop.

The massive stone gates at the far end of the floor groaned, ancient mechanisms shifting as the portal to the next stage flickered open, revealing a staircase leading downward. The runes on the walls pulsed faintly, as if hesitant, almost afraid of what lay ahead.

Ankush exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

This was getting repetitive.

Even at C- level, where challengers were expected to struggle against monstrous strength, he had obliterated the enemies with zero resistance. Each floor, each wave, every so-called 'challenge' had failed to push him even slightly.

His EXP pool continued to swell, the sheer volume of points he had stored reaching an absurd amount. The Special Points had reached 180, a total no one in history had ever accumulated within the Awakening Dungeon.

And yet, despite all of that—

He still felt nothing.

No excitement. No thrill. Just mild curiosity for what lay ahead.

As he descended the staircase, the air shifted. The mana in the surroundings grew heavier, pressing against his skin like a dense ocean. The previous floors had all followed a similar structure, but this one was different.

The temperature dropped significantly, his breath briefly misting in the cold air.

The stone path gave way to something else entirely—a vast wasteland of black ice, stretching endlessly into the distance. Massive crystalline structures jutted from the frozen ground, their translucent surfaces refracting the dim, ghostly light that hung in the eternal sky above.

The atmosphere was oppressive.

The mana was dense enough to suffocate a normal human.

This was not just another floor.

This was a domain of absolute death.

Ankush took a slow step forward, his boots crunching against the ice beneath him. The very ground seemed alive, humming faintly with stored mana, a frozen graveyard holding power long forgotten.

And then—

The portal flared violently.

A deafening boom echoed through the abyss as a single figure stepped forward.

The sheer weight of its presence shattered the surrounding ice, sending cracks splintering outward in every direction. The temperature plummeted further, frost forming on the very air itself.

And then Ankush saw it.

A creature unlike anything before.

It towered at fifteen feet tall, its skin a deep shade of obsidian, veins of blue mana pulsing beneath its surface like molten rivers of energy. Its four arms flexed, each one thicker than a tank's cannon, ending in clawed fingers that radiated pure destruction.

Two massive horns curled backward from its skull, their tips glowing faintly with embers of mana. Its eyes—burning pits of white fire—locked onto Ankush's form, filled with something far greater than mere instinct.

Intelligence.

Recognition.

It knew.

This was not an ordinary challenger.

This was something far worse.

Stage 18 – The Tyrant Behemoth (A+ Level, Level 10).

A creature whose power was beyond anything humanity had ever survived.

For context—

The strongest known record in the history of the Awakening Dungeon was Stage 17, where the world's greatest warriors had barely survived, their bodies crushed under the sheer might of an A-tier threat.

This creature was beyond them.

At Level 10 of A+ Rank, its stats were monstrous.

Strength: 2,621,440

Agility: 2,621,440

Defense: 5,242,880

Magic: 2,621,440

Every single movement it made carried enough force to shatter mountains, enough speed to move faster than a human eye could follow, and enough durability to withstand nuclear-grade destruction.

For the world, this was an impossible foe.

For Ankush, it was the first thing that made him feel remotely interested.

He exhaled slowly, his own stats flashing in his mind as he instinctively ran through his limits.

Strength: 1,000,000 – Enough to break reality with a punch.

Mana: 3,000,000 – Enough to sustain an entire civilization's worth of energy.

Mental: 2,000,000 – Thoughts processed at the speed of pure light.

Physique: 4,485,750 – Nearly unkillable, capable of taking attacks that could wipe out continents.

He cracked his neck.

Then, he smiled.

For the first time in this entire dungeon—

He was facing something that might actually last more than a second.

The Tyrant Behemoth roared, its four massive arms pulling back, mana crackling violently as it unleashed a full-powered blast of pure destruction toward him.

A normal challenger wouldn't even have time to register what was happening before being erased from existence.

Ankush didn't move.

He simply raised a hand and let the attack collide with his palm.

Boom.

The ice beneath his feet shattered violently, massive shockwaves tearing apart the landscape.

The attack had been strong.

But not enough.

Not nearly enough.

Ankush tightened his grip, and then—

He crushed the attack with his bare hand.

The Behemoth's burning white eyes flickered.

Shock.

It had just unleashed an attack capable of obliterating cities, and yet, this human had simply disregarded it.

Ankush grinned wider.

"Not bad," he muttered, rolling his shoulders. "Let's see if you can take a hit."

Before the Behemoth could react, he moved.

Faster than anything in existence.

One moment, he was standing still.

The next—

His fist was buried deep in the Behemoth's stomach.

The shockwave rippled outward, the sheer force of his strike sending fractures through the very air itself. The creature's massive body lurched violently, its four arms flailing helplessly as it was sent flying backward, colliding with a frozen mountain in the distance.

The entire mountain shattered on impact.

The ground beneath them trembled.

The sky cracked.

And the dungeon froze in silent acknowledgment of what had just happened.

Ankush exhaled, watching as the Behemoth slowly pulled itself from the rubble, its burning white eyes now filled with something far beyond recognition.

Fear.

For the first time in its entire existence, the Tyrant Behemoth felt fear.

Ankush tilted his head, flexing his fingers.

"Don't die too quickly," he muttered.

Then, he vanished again.

And the real battle began.