CHAPTER 1

LONELY WOLF

“This is the first time since Lefiya and the others joined that we’ve had…casualties.”

Riveria’s heavy sigh echoed in the large room. The three of them were in the captain’s office—Riveria, Gareth, and the owner of the room himself, Finn. Though it was still early, the dizzying events of the last few days necessitated a prompt meeting. The list of things they needed to do loomed like a mountain, with the burial of their fallen companions merely being one of many duties.

In response to the comment Riveria made from her spot at the far wall, both Finn and Gareth offered grave looks of their own.

“The fault is ours. We weren’t able to protect Leene and the others, divided as we were…I’m sorry.”

“A disgrace, we were. Too caught up in our own pride.”

“I’m not blaming either of you, so stop that now. It’s simply…difficult. This is the one thing I’ve never been able to get used to. Losing those whose names and faces I’ve long etched into my heart…”

Finn and Gareth were lamenting how they let their subordinates die while infiltrating the enemy’s hideout, but Riveria shook her head, her jade-colored eyes dropping to the floor in pain.

The only sound in the quiet room was the continuous ticking of the tall grandfather clock.

Almost as though standing in silent prayer, they allowed a few moments to pass with their eyes closed before Finn finally spoke.

“We’ve no choice but to accept our loss. The one question now is, how do we reclaim our honor?” he posed, resting his elbows on the desk. There was an unusual strength to his words. At the moment, more than self-vindication and guilt, his narrowed green eyes burned with the thought of a rematch—almost like an unspoken pledge to those who’d lost their lives.

The time to mourn the dead was over.

They hadn’t a single moment to waste. The three familia leaders began reviewing what they knew.

“Not that it does us much good now, but…We really underestimated those Evils blokes. That much we can say for sure.”

“Indeed. If we can believe Valletta, the official name for that labyrinth is ‘Knossos’…”

“A second dungeon right beneath our feet…I know the floor I reached doesn’t compare to the depths you two descended to, but I can already say now—we should leave this place alone.”

Gareth, Finn, then Riveria spoke in turn, shifting the topic to the maze that served as their enemy’s hideout.

The man-made labyrinth Knossos.

Residing deep beneath the winding roads of Daedalus Street, the Evils had made it their lair, an underground maze that boasted a size and depth that was far beyond anything they knew. Finn believed it was as large as the entire city of Orario, while its depth was reached near the middle levels of the Dungeon, at least. Even for the goddess Loki, this was a discovery that defied common sense.

“And that convoluted snarl of a dungeon wasn’t the only thing we had on our plates, either. Orichalcum doors, cursed weapons, creatures, demi-spirits…And to top it all off, that demon witch Valletta was still alive,” Gareth muttered.

“I will say that I could hardly believe she was dead when I heard her corpse had been found after the Twenty-Seventh-Floor Nightmare six years ago…”

The face of Gareth and Riveria’s longtime enemy wasn’t one they’d soon forget. Both of them had fought tooth and nail against the agents of the evil gods and their attempt to upset the order of Orario fifteen years ago during a period in the city’s history known as the Dark Ages. Their expressions clouded before Gareth continued.

“The lot of ’em already packed a punch, but more important was the overwhelming advantage they had in that maze. No way they’d pick a fight outside it. Actually, there’s no point in the first place.”

“Right. According to Aiz, there are already seven crystal orb fetuses…demi-spirits…on their way to the surface. At this point, they’re just waiting. Why plan their own strike when they can simply wait?” Riveria nodded, relaying what Aiz had reported earlier.

After the group split up, Aiz had found tanks in Knossos’s abandoned lab.

Though they’d been empty, she was sure the dregs still coating the broken glass had come from the spirits. Which meant the crystal orb fetuses were somewhere in that labyrinth, already evolving into the frighteningly powerful demi-spirits, just like the power bull femanoid Gareth, Tiona, and Tione had struggled against.

“I will destroy Orario.”

That was the ultimate goal of the creature forces belowground and the remnants of the Evils.

And they would accomplish it, too, if all those demi-spirits fully matured—it would spell both the end of Loki Familia and the rest of Orario.

“At any rate, we need to come up with a plan right away. We have to get back inside Knossos.”

“That we do. Just talkin’ ain’t gonna get us anywhere.”

The two first-tier adventurers had had their fill of grief; the melancholy had left their voices. They immediately began consolidating their ideas, Finn taking the lead.

Once the prum captain had issued his orders to the dwarf and high elf respectively, he brought up a new topic.

“Now that Ishtar Familia has been completely annihilated by Freya Familia…what’s the situation like?”

“What’s there to say? Not even sure I’d know where to start. At least we know that its members have scattered to the wind…”

“They don’t have much choice given how the person we suspected of being connected to the Evils, Ishtar herself, was sent back to Heaven. There was a high chance she had info that would’ve benefited us greatly, but…”

It had been only three days ago that Freya Familia had attacked and destroyed Ishtar Familia. Sorting through the convoluted morass of info they’d received about this major event was merely another reason the three of them had met so early for the day’s meeting.

“We still haven’t figured out the reason Freya Familia chose this particular moment to attack Ishtar and her people. At least from our perspective, it seems a bit more than simple bad luck.”

“I’ve gotten a whiff of a rumor Ishtar had her hands on Freya’s man,” Gareth piped up, having been in charge of gathering info the last few days.

“To think it would come down to something so inane…” Riveria brought a hand to her head as though sensing the approach of a headache.

Finn, meanwhile, seemed lost in his own thoughts. “Hmm…”

All of a sudden, Riveria came back to her senses with a start.

“There’s one more thing, Finn. Though it has nothing to do with Knossos…”

“And yet it must be important if your face is anything to go by. What is it?”

Riveria’s fine brows were drawn together, creating a frown on a face beautiful enough to make the goddesses jealous, as Finn prompted her to explain.

“It’s about Aiz and the others…No. It’s about Bete, to be specific.”

At the mention of the werewolf’s name, identical knowing looks crossed Finn’s and Gareth’s faces.

“Right now, among members of the familia, there’s—”

At that very moment, the raucous sounds of a fight reached the office.

It was coming from another of the mansion’s towers.

“…Seems we mighta been a bit too late on this one,” Gareth murmured before heading toward the door.

“Really, what a handful…” Finn sighed with a pained smile of his own as he followed the dwarf out.

The last one to leave, Riveria brought a hand back to her forehead. Apparently, the headache from before was flaring up again as she quickly headed toward the hallway.

“Mister Bete is unbelievable!” Raul’s shout echoed off the rafters of the large dining hall. It was breakfast time in Loki Familia’s home, Twilight Manor. But rather than eating, the members of the familia who were currently gathered were in the midst of an uproar.

Their anger with a certain member of the familia had finally peaked.

“How could he say something like that? That…that Leene’s and the others’ deaths were pointless?! To even think of saying something like that about your own companions…What makes him think he has the right?!” Raul sputtered. The normally indecisive, confrontation-hating peacemaker of the group was unable to hold in his rage any longer.

“Yeah, it’s not like he’s ever been the most approachable of guys, but…this is just too much,” Anakity, herself a candidate for the familia’s upper echelons, weighed in from beside Raul. Her own anger was evident on her face. Leene had been a close friend. Anakity was attempting to keep her emotions in check, digging her nails into her arms.

The event currently on everyone’s minds was, of course, what had transpired in Knossos. The source of their outrage was a certain werewolf who’d laughed at their companions’ deaths.

Bete might have been a well-known powerhouse in Loki Familia, but that didn’t stop his fellow familia members from fearing and reviling the way he constantly looked down on and abused those in the lower ranks. Now that he’d even gone so far as to mock their companions’ deaths, their enmity toward the young wolf had reached a breaking point.

Watching the tumultuous storm of condemnation swirling about the dining hall now, Lefiya stood stock-still near the door.

“What’s wrong?” The voice belonged to Aiz, who had come running to investigate the commotion.

“Hmm? Oh, Miss Aiz! It’s…Well…” Lefiya started, hurriedly attempting to explain the situation, but all it took was a few words for Aiz to understand what was going on. The swordswoman’s eyes quickly scanned the room.

The red-faced, teary-eyed Raul wasn’t the only one condemning Bete. Every one of the adventurers who’d been there in that stone room shared resentment for the werewolf. The elf Alicia, the chienthrope Cruz, the human Narfi—all of them second-tier familia members just like Raul. They were not at the point of joining in openly lambasting Bete, but their mouths were certainly tense. Even Tiona and Tione were acting particularly chilly at their spot by the wall. Neither of them had been at the scene of the crime themselves, but they had obviously caught wind of what had happened.

Aiz had never seen her fellow familia members like this before, and for a moment it left her dazed, unsure what to do.

Not a single person present was standing up for Bete.

Not that they would be, considering what he’d done.

He’d simply gone too far this time.

“…What do you think…Lefiya?”

“M-me? I, uh, well…Of course I’m mad at Mister Bete, but, I mean…I can’t be too mad…After all, he did save you and the others…”

She was referring to what had happened in the pantry on the twenty-fourth floor when she, Filvis, and Bete had formed a three-man party to rescue Aiz and the others.

“After what happened down there, I always just kinda thought Mister Bete was scared, but…but after hearing what Mister Raul and the others are saying, I…I guess I don’t really know what to think…” Her directionless response quickly fizzled out.

Aiz could empathize with her indecisiveness. It was understandable why she was leaning toward Tiona and Tione’s view.

Lefiya’s voice was unmistakably discouraged, and she even seemed to be losing hope entirely. “…What about you, Miss Aiz?” she posed, her eyes still trained toward the ground.

“Me? I…”

She didn’t have an answer.

All Aiz could think about was the look on Bete’s face. The way he’d been unable to put into words the feelings building inside him that led to irritation, then anger, before he’d finally snapped.

“We can never repay them for what they’ve done!!”

As Aiz was still trying to find her words, Raul’s voice cut through the food hall.

And it was at just that moment that a certain gray-furred wolf decided to make his entrance.

“Pretty early for y’all to be so goddamn annoying, don’t you think?”

It was Bete.

A sudden hush settled over the dining hall, all eyes on him.

“M-Mister Bete…”

He walked straight past Aiz and Lefiya, both still standing by the door in stunned silence, and into the center of the hall. His usual aura of antipathy was plain on his face, and one of his lupine ears lay flat in indignation.

His appearance, however, solicited a variety of responses from the crowd of adventurers. Some cowered in fear, others furrowed their brows in anger, while still others couldn’t hide the animosity building up inside them. But one thing they all had in common—their castigation of Bete.

Bete, however, was the same as always despite having opponents on every side.

“Moan, moan, whine, whine. If you’ve got somethin’ to say, say it to my face! You little shits can’t do anything on your own!”

Every brow in the room rose. Raul even seemed ready to lunge forward. But Bete paid their reactions no mind and simply made his way lazily toward a nearby chair.

Or he would have if a certain copper-colored leg hadn’t blocked his path.

“M-Misses Tiona and Tione…” Lefiya whispered, her eyes trembling as she watched the twin Amazonian sisters step in front of Bete.

Tione’s eyes were narrowed in icy wrath, and even Tiona’s smile had disappeared as she glared at the werewolf.

“You got a beef with me, Amazons?”

“…”

Tione didn’t respond. Her sister, however, did.

“Don’t you feel anything, Bete?”

“…”

“Leene and the others—they’re dead. Don’t you understand that? You’ll never be able to see them again!” Tiona’s voice was quiet amid the protective gazes of her peers.

She continued:

“Leene liked you, you know?…You really don’t feel anything?”

The question, coupled with Tione’s silent glower, was the last straw.

The room fell utterly still.

Bete said nothing for a moment. Then—he laughed.

“Sorry to burst her bubble, but I hate weak girls most of all.”

His words were the trigger.

All of a sudden, the bodies of the two sisters became a blur.

Their faces blank, they came at the wolf and his unchanging, characteristic derisive smile.

From the left came a punch and, from the right, a front kick aimed at his head.

Some of the women in the room yelped. But before the two iron hammers could fall—they were stopped by a massive fist and a long spear, respectively.

“That’ll do, you two.”

“Gareth…!”

“Any further and this will have gotten entirely out of hand.”

“Captain…!”

Gareth’s fist had grabbed Tiona’s wrist, and the handle of Finn’s spear had blocked Tione’s kick. The two of them had raced into the dining hall just in time.

Joining them was Aiz, standing firmly in front of Bete. Despite being empty-handed, she’d reached out to restrain the werewolf’s arm, already extended in the process of delivering a counterstrike.

Lefiya and the others had barely been able to respond, all of them frozen where they stood. They gulped at what had just transpired in front of them.

“Outta my way, Captain! This piece of shit thinks—!”

“As a high-level member of this familia, you have a standard to uphold, Tione. Or is that not what I’ve always told you?”

Tione bit down on her lip, Finn’s unwavering gaze cooling the fire that had been about ready to rage out of control inside her. She scowled at Bete.

Bete also stood down, cursing beneath his breath.

“Ain’t it a little early to be gettin’ all riled up, guys? You’re a real hot-blooded bunch, you know that?”

“L-Loki…”

The familia’s patron goddess herself strolled into the dining hall past Lefiya at the door. Her vermilion eyes took in the explosive situation currently gripping the hall before widening ever so slightly.

“That’s enough, Bete. Get outta here and go cool off.”

“…Hmph.” The wolf cursed beneath his breath but did as he was told. Turning his back on Aiz, he made his way out the door.

Riveria took the opportunity to approach him, moving from where she’d been watching over the proceedings to stand in front of Bete.

“Whaddaya want, ya old hag? You wanna have a go, too—?”

“I’d choose my words more carefully if I were you, Bete,” the high elf queen warned, half interrupting the wolf’s tirade. “I don’t care how you choose to feel, but that’s no reason not to mourn the loss of your companions.”

Bete snorted. “Oh yeah? And what’s mourning gonna do for ’em? I’d cry myself to sleep every night if it’d do a damn thing. But it won’t, will it?”

“…”

“They died ’cause they’re weak. Or am I wrong? Tell me I’m wrong, huh? I’m not gonna deny what’s true.” He looked back over at the group behind him. “You bastards, too. You slow us down and that’s what happens!” he spat before pushing past Riveria and leaving through the door.

Tiona clenched her fists as Tione kicked over a nearby chair with an enraged yell. “Piece of shit!” This earned her a swift smack on the back of her head from Finn’s spear before Loki, Finn, Gareth, and Riveria all heaved a simultaneous sigh.

“This has really gotten out of hand. At this rate, it may end up forming a rift in the familia,” Finn lamented, turning away from Tione, who was squatting on the ground with her hands to the back of her head.

“Maybe a bit late in sayin’ this, but…that boy may have been more trouble than he’s worth,” Gareth mused.

“We knew this would happen…sooner or later…” Riveria agreed as she made her way over to rejoin the two. One eye closed, she scanned the dining hall while the lower-level familia members around her trembled in fear. Raul and some others continued to stare daggers at the door Bete had gone through.

“C’mon, people! Enough of this, yeah? I’m starvin’! Fix me up a heapin’ big plate of the good stuff, won’t ya, Lefiya?” The sound of Loki’s relaxed voice sliced through the tension. “Food, food, I need food!”

“Huh? I, erm, o-okay…” Lefiya sputtered at the goddess’s carefree request before she and the others quickly moved to obey.

“…”

Only Aiz stood alone, the clatter of plates on the table ringing in her ears as she gazed toward the corridor where she had last seen the young werewolf.

There was still much information to be gathered—not only to further their knowledge of the events in Knossos but also to investigate Freya Familia’s attack on Ishtar Familia. That night, the members of Loki Familia were issued their respective orders.

It was around that time that Bete was making his way down the hall, one eye on the sun setting over the city through the nearby window.

“…Hmph.”

Everywhere he went, his fellow familia members fled. They didn’t even look him in the eye, never mind utter a greeting. In the hallway, in the parlor room, everyone he passed kept that same silent distance. Not even Raul or Cruz, the two he’d spent the most time with, acknowledged his existence. The second they noticed him coming down the hall, the emotion left their faces as they passed by in silence.

“Ah…M-Mister Bete.”

Then there was Lefiya.

The young elf glanced up at him when they unexpectedly encountered each other, looking as though she was about to say something—

“This way, Lefiya!”

“M-Miss Tiona! Miss Tione…”

But before she could finish, Tiona and Tione arrived to grab her arm, pulling her away from the werewolf. Normally, the Amazons would start fighting with him the moment they made eye contact, but this time, they didn’t so much as glance at him.

People had a tendency to change gears once their anger had risen too much. They began to ignore the source of their anger, behaving as though it didn’t even exist.

That was exactly what was happening to Bete.

It made him feel like he was walking on a bed of nails. While he wasn’t so emotionally delicate that their treatment bothered him, he also wasn’t so uncaring as to simply do nothing and take it.

Bete was well aware that his refusal to behave any differently from normal painted him as the ultimate evil to the rest of his familia.

“—Bete. I don’t know how much we can do for you.”

An hour earlier, he had been summoned by Finn after his duties for the day had come to an end.

“It doesn’t matter what Riveria, Gareth, or I say—none of it’s likely to get through to Raul and the others. While I’ve no wish for dissension in this familia, I’m also aware that no amount of persuasion is going to help. Quite the opposite, really.”

The two of them had been in Finn’s office, the prum sitting at his desk with shoulders sagging.

“If we covered for you, we’d simply bring the hostility of the familia onto ourselves. And, unfortunately, I’m not really in a position to let myself become a target at the moment.”

They didn’t want any outrage directed at them. It was such a refreshingly honest answer, Bete couldn’t even be mad. It wasn’t an issue of Finn’s personal preference, either, only an objective decision. After all, the familia’s morale would take a big hit if its members disagreed with their leaders. And with the underground organization of creatures and the Evils’ Remnants practically at their doorstep, they had to be at the top of their game. This wasn’t the time for discord among their ranks.

Bete knew this, which was why he hadn’t interrupted Finn’s speech.

“Thus, I’m placing you on leave. Once all this dies down, you can return to the manor. Until then, I ask that you stay at an inn. I’ll provide you with the funds—though I doubt you’ll accept them,” Finn finished, placing a bag of coins atop the desk separating them.

Unsurprisingly, Bete pushed it back with an “I don’t need this shit.”

Bete didn’t care about money. All he cared about was the Dungeon. And he wasn’t about to let someone else become involved with his personal problems—which was exactly what Finn had been afraid of. Bete couldn’t shake the look of sympathy Finn had directed toward him as he’d left the room.

There was no place for him right now in Twilight Manor.

“…Hmph.”

Grumbling beneath his breath, he made his way toward the main entrance. There was no one there to see him off. The only witness to his exit was the scarlet sky smoldering overhead.

His destination was the Flaming Wasp, a pub in Orario’s fifth ward.

It was just one of many pubs in the sprawling Shopping District located at the city’s southern quarter. Nestled into one of the many alleyways some distance from the main road, the pub was distinguishable from the surrounding buildings by the bright-red wasp signpost hanging from its wall.

This establishment was well-known for its wasp liquor—colored a red so deep, it might as well have been liquefied ruby, and boasting a fiery heat that burned the throats and stomachs of its patrons. The combination of its unique flavor and the pain drew regulars back time and time again. That night, as the sun neared the horizon, the Flaming Wasp was indeed a hive of activity as per usual.

Normally, Bete would be here with Raul and the others. This time, however, he had no company for obvious reasons. Nevertheless, he was fully prepared to drink in solitude…or at least, he had been.

“…What the hell you doin’ here, Aiz?”

“…Because I felt like it?”

Bete’s lips curled into a scowl at the golden-haired, golden-eyed swordswoman cocking her head from the other side of the table for two.

Had she followed him from the manor? Either way, she was sitting across from him. Even among the raucous cacophony of drunken patrons surrounding them at their center table, a strange aura seemed to settle over the two of them.

“You follow me?”

“…I did.”

“And why the hell would you do somethin’ like that?”

“You looked…lonely?”

“Like hell I did!”

Bete brought his mug down hard on the table, interrupting the halting conversation he was having with the girl of few words. Aiz, however, just tilted her head curiously.

Around them, the carefree jubilance of the other patrons continued, oblivious to Bete’s inner turmoil. There was a whole host of customers today, everything from dwarven adventurers to humans, animal people, and even a few Amazons. The prum girl tending to them was in constant motion bringing out orders of liquor and food.

But some of them also seemed to be foregoing drink, and some were throwing glances at Bete and Aiz. More than a few, in fact. They were Loki Familia’s Vanargand and Sword Princess, after all. No matter where they went in the city, they were likely to draw attention—that was simply what it meant to be a first-tier adventurer. Aiz’s looks, in particular, drew more than a few lewd gazes. Bete was quick to glower back at the demi-human culprits, who responded by keeping their eyes well enough to themselves afterward.

Bete had no problem with Aiz sitting there. What he did have a problem with was her silence.

She ordered nothing and simply sat there, staring at him prettily from across the table as Bete’s features twisted into an expression of discomfort far greater than anything he’d displayed back at the manor.

Then his drink arrived, mistakenly placed in front of Aiz.

He grabbed and downed it before Aiz even had a chance to react.

“…So? You’re here…why? Finn ask you to come babysit me?”

“Finn…? No, this has nothing to do with…Finn…”

“Then why the hell come here?”

“I guess I was…worried about you…”

“—GBWWOOOFFF?!”

Bete choked on his drink, drawing a startled look from Aiz.

Though flustered for a moment, he quickly recovered. “Goddamn airhead doesn’t even realize what she’s saying…” he mumbled begrudgingly, leaving Aiz more than a little bewildered.

I suppose I…haven’t spoken with Bete very often…

She thought to herself, reflecting on how this was the first time she and the werewolf had done anything alone together outside of battle (and consequently missing the fact that Bete was downing drinks at an increasing pace).

Similar to Tiona and her sister, Bete had also converted to Loki Familia from a different familia. It had been almost six years since then, which was before the two Amazonian sisters had joined. He’d looked down on her back then, but after seeing her combat prowess in the Dungeon, he’d changed his mind, eventually growing to even respect her.

His previous familia was Víðarr Familia.

Aiz had heard from Finn that he’d left them on bad terms. In fact, Víðarr Familia itself didn’t even reside in Orario anymore. Even though she’d known Bete longer than Tiona and Tione, she still felt like she didn’t understand anything about him.

…When I think of Bete…

The emotion she usually held was doubt—specifically, wondering whether he had taken something too far.

His strength was unquestionable. In fact, she couldn’t help but think the werewolf’s views on strength were quite similar to her own. In that regard, he was considerably different from those like Tiona, who simply enjoyed fighting for fighting’s sake.

These thoughts running through her head, Aiz finally spoke up again.

“Why is it you…look down on others so much?”

“Huh?”

Bete’s face had already taken on a decidedly reddish hue from his continued alcohol consumption. He shot Aiz a curious look before curling his lips into a smile.

“Weaksticks are weaksticks. What’s wrong with lookin’ down on those weaker ’n you? They’re pathetic.”

Aiz closed her mouth at the werewolf’s response.

No. She couldn’t. If she did, she’d get the same exact results Riveria and Tiona always did.

Instead, she tried to rethink her question.

“Okay, then…What is it that drives you…to become stronger?”

“…”

It was a question she felt would provide her an answer similar to her own.

If Bete really did share the same reasoning as her, the same unyielding tenacity to grow stronger, then maybe, just maybe she might be able to uncover what it was that made him tick.

Bete was silent for a few moments, then smirked.

“Isn’t this a rare treat. You actually showin’ interest in someone ’sides yourself.”

“…”

“Pretty rich coming from the girl who never said anything about herself and didn’t care about anything ’cept crushin’ monster skulls.”

“Ngh!”

Aiz’s eyes narrowed, her mouth opening for an instinctive retort, but Bete continued before she could find her words.

“How ’bout this, then? I show you mine; you show me yours? I’ll answer if you answer, too.”

“!”

Aiz didn’t have a response. All she could do was avert her eyes.

Bete knew she wouldn’t answer, and he didn’t blame her for it, either. Instead, he simply continued, words hissing out between his teeth.

“Don’t get so upset, Aiz. S’not like there’s a point in carin’ about other people’s problems. Let ’em care about themselves.” Finishing up a glass of wasp liquor, he tossed it down on the table. “You’re strong. That’s all that matters.”

“…”

“So long as we keep stayin’ strong, we’ll be fine.”

He was looking straight into her eyes now, almost as if he was trying to advise her through his intoxicated haze.

“When you’re strong, you can do anything. You’ll never have anything taken away from you.”

But then, his grave expression shifted into a glib smile.

“For instance, I could serve up the chicken livers of all these cowards to go with my drinks!” His voice was booming now, loud enough to swallow up the cacophonous frivolity of the entire bar. Ignoring Aiz’s shock, he put his arm on the back of his chair and let his eyes travel the room. “You hear that, you yellow-bellied shits? Keep on yukkin’ it up! I’m sick of you and your pig-ass faces! Every day, killin’ nothin’ but small fries! Is that how you wanna live? Spendin’ your measly-ass coins for watered-down piss like this? What the hell kinda life is that?!”

The entire bar went silent as Bete’s words echoed against the rafters. It didn’t take long for things to go south from there, as murderous gazes turned toward Bete from every corner of the room.

“Bete!”

“Stay outta this, Aiz! You know I’m not wrong! All they’ve got going for them is numbers. There ain’t a single one of ’em with the guts to fight back on their own!”

And it was true. Despite the multitude of scowls, the adventurers in the pub were quick to back off at the wolf’s antagonistic peal of laughter. Averting their eyes, lowering their eyes, even, their actions seemed to confirm the slander being thrown at them.

“What a bunch of sorry losers…If you can’t even defend yourself now, how the hell are you supposed to defend yourself in a real battle? Cowards! Every last one of you!”

But even as their faces reddened and their fists trembled in anger, the armor-clad adventurers could do nothing. There wasn’t a single person in the pub who stood up to Bete’s mockery. They were far too afraid of the true “monsters” of the Dungeon—the first-tier adventurers.

Even Aiz with her general lack of emotion found herself brimming with anger, and she moved to put a stop to Bete’s tirade, but then…

“—How charming.”

Someone moved forward to step in front of Bete before she could.

It was an Amazonian prostitute, stepping away from the rest of her group in a corner of the pub, her long, silky black hair swaying behind her.

“Aisha Belka…”

“Antianeira.”

The murmurs from the crowd identified her, and Bete and Aiz immediately recognized her and her crew as part of the Berbera and former members of Ishtar Familia. They were a strong group of women, most of them second-tier adventurers at Level 3. And from the looks of it, they’d been continuing to meet for drinks even though they had all converted to different familias after Ishtar’s return to the upper world—a ritual that Bete had just interrupted with his earlier spiel.

“Don’t group us with the rest of these fools. My sisters and I aren’t so spineless as to take your insults sitting down…First-tier or not, don’t get full of yourself.” Her final words were so low that they sounded practically murderous.

The rage burning inside her after listening to Bete’s rant was tangible, and it seemed her fellow Amazons lined up behind her weren’t too pleased, either. Her eyes flashing, her clothes revealing much of her copper-colored skin, she had the aura of someone all too familiar with the brawl scene.

“Ha! So the fishies wanna play?” Bete’s lips pulled back in a ferocious grin as he watched the group of Amazons rise to their feet. He almost seemed elated. “You learn to use that mouth of yours in bed, you whore? You want my foot to bash your skull in?!” he shouted, once more rising to his feet and sending his chair flying.

“Bete, stop—!” Aiz started, leaping up in an attempt to stop the fight, but her cry was quickly swallowed up by the crowing of the Amazons.

“Bring it on, you uncivilized mutt! I’ll enjoy beating the shit out of you!”

And with jeers from the surrounding patrons egging the combatants on, the fight began. Plates, chairs, tables, blood—everything went flying. Screams and shouts shook the walls, even while the dwarven pub owner stood calmly wiping plates by the counter as though this happened every night.

Abandoned and alone, Aiz stood off to the side in shock as a grand brawl erupted around her.

As a soft sliver of the moon peeked through the clouds, the quiet curtain of night fell once again as the furor cooled.

One after another, the pale-faced patrons of the bar watched the bodies pile up on the floor.

“Heh. All bark and no bite, I see.”

“Gnngh…!”

Bete had his hand wrapped around Aisha’s neck. She was the only one left out of more than ten Berbera he’d already taken down. They hadn’t even been able to scratch him.

Aisha, however, refused to give up, fighting against him even as he curled his fingers tighter around her throat.

“Vanargand…!”

The outcome may have been decided, but the glint in her eyes had yet to dissipate.

Her continued ferocity despite the pain made Bete grin all the more.

He would end her right here, right now.

“Let her go.”

The edge of a blade met his throat—Aiz’s sword, Desperate.

Bete’s smile was gone in an instant, and he turned to see the Sword Princess shooting him an icy glare.

The fight was over. The Amazons had fallen, the spark inside them soundly snuffed. This wasn’t simply self-defense anymore. That’s what Aiz was saying.

Bete did as he was told, letting out the last of his malice with a huff before releasing his grip on Aisha’s throat. Aisha herself fell to the ground, choking and sputtering.

“Why do you…always have to hurt people like this?” Aiz asked, attempting to find her words.

With his fist. With his words.

Bete didn’t have an answer.

Aiz’s gaze never left him, even as the other wounded Amazons gathered around Aisha.

“That’s what I…hate about you.”

“…Heh. That so?” Bete snorted. “I’m done here,” he said, walking away. He tossed a bag of coins toward the dwarf behind the counter before turning toward the door, not even bothering to throw a look of contempt at the group of Amazons glaring up at him from the floor.

The same scowls of resentment that had accompanied him in Loki Familia’s dining hall followed him all the way out of the building.

Bete threw them a glance before letting the wooden door clatter behind him on his way out.

“…”

Aiz herself remained silent, still standing in the center of the room with her brows lowered in heartache. Not even she made to follow him this time.