FIRST CHAPTER

AND THE BOY…

The city was asleep.

Not a single light flickered within the whole of Twilight Manor, home of Loki Familia.

The residential building and its surroundings ran thick with shadow. Members of the familia stood watch at the main gate in sets of two despite assurances from their patron deity that “’S all good, don’t worry ’bout it.” Even now, guards were changing shifts—from a mixed set of humans to a female elf and animal-person pair. Within the manor itself, magic-stone lamps flickered unsteadily throughout the hallways like candlesticks.

Accompanying the main building were many towers, thrust upward like spears at the ready. One such tower was the maiden tower, where only the most beautiful of women, scouted by Loki herself, resided.

It was from within that gloom that a silhouette emerged.

Out slipped a leg in frilly pajamas, descending to the floor below. There was a rustle of cloth, hidden in a darkness as black as the world beyond the window’s pulled-back curtains.

The shadowy figure changed clothes, careful to be silent lest it awaken its roommates, still fast asleep in their beds. Then it slipped out the door and into the night.

“I can’t believe I’ve woken this early…” Lefiya mumbled to herself upon exiting the room, her long golden ponytail swishing behind her.

It had already been four days since their confrontation with Levis and her creatures down on the twenty-fourth floor.

After succumbing to Mind Down and resting for nearly three days straight, Lefiya had never been more awake. Feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, unable to sleep even a moment longer, she felt her elven ears twitch back and forth as she tiptoed down the narrow hallway.

Might as well take this opportunity to train, right?

She curled her hands into two tight fists, brimming with determination.

The incident on the twenty-fourth floor had reminded her of how powerless she really was. It reaffirmed her resolve to become stronger, not only to ensure she’d never drag down her seniors in Loki Familia but for her own sake, as well.

A flame sparked in her azure eyes.

This early, I might even get the chance to train with Miss Aiz!

Her usual dignified, composed elven countenance dissipated in an instant.

There was no one Lefiya looked up to more than the golden-haired, golden-eyed swordswoman. She never missed a training session, waking up in the wee hours morning after morning to hone her blade work. If Lefiya left now, there was a chance she could spend time with her dazzling goddess. Feeling just a tad bit sneaky, or maybe more than a little, her feet seemed to be practically skipping as she hurried along.

Training so early, Lefiya? I’m impressed. Oh, Miss Aiz! This is nothing! I still have so much to learn, so at least this much is expected. Eh-heh-heh, but I do enjoy praise…

Lefiya wore a little grin as the “Eh-heh-heh” slipped from her lips in reality, as well.

In a delightful mood, she steered herself toward Aiz’s usual training spot in the courtyard.

“Hmm…This is strange. Perhaps I am too early, after all?”

Lefiya peered down from the bridge connecting the tower, searching for her golden-haired, golden-eyed warrior in the courtyard below. Strangely, she was nowhere to be found. The magic-stone pole lamps hadn’t even been lit yet, leaving the grass of the courtyard still bathed in darkness. Lefiya cocked her head in curiosity. True, the short hand on the timepiece had yet to reach three. Perhaps even Aiz had her limits.

Lefiya drooped in the middle of the bridge, gloom weighing heavily on her shoulders. Finally, she renewed her resolve, intent on starting her training alone all the same.

“Huh? Miss Aiz?”

At that exact moment, Lefiya caught a glimpse of the very person she was looking for.

Not in the courtyard but in a space behind the manor, situated neatly between its towers. Already clad in her lightweight armor and sword hanging from her side, she was acting shifty—checking first left, right, then back again before leaping noiselessly atop the wall surrounding the manor.

“?!”

The sight of Aiz sneaking out without going through the gate caused Lefiya’s big blue eyes to grow as wide as saucers.

The sole witness to this suspicious behavior, Lefiya couldn’t help but worry that Aiz might be headed to the Dungeon all by herself, and she took off after her idol in a fit of worry.

Leaping nimbly from the bridge, she headed for the garden. There would be no time for fetching her staff as she took off at a gallop and quickly cleared the wall.

It was dark and cold as she ran through the city streets.

Before long, Lefiya realized that Aiz’s destination was not, in fact, the center of the city where Babel Tower sealed the massive hole leading into the Dungeon.

Instead, the elusive figure trailing golden locks seemed to be headed toward a district in the northwest.

Where on earth could she be off to this early in the morning…?

Tiny puffs of white air rose from her lips before melting into the shadows as she pushed her legs as fast as they could go.

Stopping for just a moment to ask for directions from a demi-human and a group of drunken, stumbling adventurers, she followed in Aiz’s wake. Try as she might, however, she couldn’t keep up, and eventually she lost sight of her mark altogether.

Lefiya came to a stop near the northwestern wall, struggling to catch her breath.

“I was so sure she came this way…”

The stone path she’d reached was enclosed on all sides by houses. She paused to examine her surroundings and the ornate magic-stone lamp poles all neatly aligned before taking off at a run once more.

She left the main street behind, dashing first onto a rather wide but tidy backstreet before disappearing down a complex web of small alleyways.

Lefiya blindly chased that shadow for twenty or thirty minutes, wrestling with the ever-branching roads. She didn’t even know what she was doing anymore, yet she couldn’t seem to stop herself. She had to find Aiz.

Before she knew it, a considerable amount of time had passed.

Head on a swivel and mind consumed by the frantic search, Lefiya sailed around the nearest corner and found herself face-to-face with an oncoming body.

“Eeek!”

“Whoa!”

There was a sharp crack as their heads collided. Both parties landed hard on their rumps.

They were motionless for a few moments, teary-eyed and groaning as they held their heads in pain.

Of all the—!

As a Level 3 adventurer, she couldn’t believe that she had ended up splayed out on the ground like an utter klutz. It was her own fault, really. She’d gotten too caught up in her chase, unable to think of anything except Aiz.

“I’m very sor—”

“P-pardon me, ma’am!”

Her apology was cut short by an even louder one, and the speaker got to his feet in a hurry.

Upon peering upward, her eyes met those of a boy.

A rubellite-eyed, white-haired human boy.

He had the most cherubic of features, his hair reminiscent of the pure-white snow that often painted the landscape of elven villages in the woods Lefiya had once called home. He was young—there weren’t any men in her familia who were younger—and slim, his features lean and slender.

Lefiya couldn’t help but wonder if their ages weren’t so different. The boy, on the other hand, simply reached his hand toward her.

“Are you all right…? Ah—”

But then his outstretched hand suddenly stopped short.

Reflected in those ruby eyes of his were the decidedly pointy, decidedly twitchy ears of an elf. Like Filvis from Dionysus Familia, prideful elves loathed skin-to-skin contact with anyone they didn’t approve of. While this didn’t hold true for their entire race, the number of elves who couldn’t get over their discomfort was considerable.

As though familiar with it himself, the boy hesitated, unsure whether or not he should retract his hand.

All Lefiya could do was sigh. She could see in his face how distraught he was. Not wanting to be misunderstood due to the habits of other elves, she took the boy’s hand herself.

He was surprised, for sure, but not to the point that she couldn’t use his hand to pull herself to her feet.

She took a moment to dust herself off before meeting those rubellite eyes again.

“Thank you very much! And I do apologize. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“N-no, I—! I was the one who should have been more careful…”

Lefiya delivered her apology with a smile while the boy could only stumble over his words in response.

One might actually think the boy had never even spoken to a girl before from the way his face heated up, especially contrasted with Lefiya’s calm, very elven demeanor. His discomfort was palpable.

There was something authentic about him. A simple sort of humbleness. From the look of his lightweight armor, he must be an adventurer.

As all these thoughts ran through her mind, however, another joined them.

Oh, right—Aiz!

Practically bent forward in her urgency, she quickly asked whether or not he’d noticed someone matching Aiz’s description nearby.

“Golden hair and golden eyes…?”

“Exactly! The Sword Princess! Aiz Wallenstein! You’re an adventurer, no? Surely you know her! Have you seen her?”

She could feel the desperation building in her voice.

The boy, however, was silent, and Lefiya could have sworn she saw the beginnings of sweat forming on his temple.

“You’re, uh…not from Loki Familia, are you?”

Lefiya’s brow creased. Where’d that come from? “…? I am, yes. Why?”

The corners of the boy’s mouth twitched. It was almost as if he was hiding something. The hints of perspiration on his face quickly became full-fledged beads.

Wait a minute…Lefiya’s eyes narrowed, her demeanor shifting. There’s something quite suspicious about this…

Now she was certain he was covering something up.

“You know something, yes? Tell me what you know about Miss Aiz!” She was practically shouting at this point.

The boy didn’t waste a second—he turned tail and bolted.

“You—!”

The way his white hair fluttered in his escape reminded Lefiya of a bounding rabbit.

Not about to be outdone by a human, no matter how fast his legs could apparently go, Lefiya shot off after him like an arrow.

“You come back heeeeeeeeeere!!”

“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!”

Amid the silent streets, its residents still fast asleep, the chase had begun.

His head start vanished in an instant. After throwing a glance over his shoulder only to see Lefiya gaining on him, the boy gave another startled eep.

He couldn’t have been higher than Level 1, that much was certain, which meant he was no match for the speed of a Level 3 like Lefiya, even if she was a magic user. The distance between them grew shorter, shorter, and shorter.

He definitely knew something about Aiz and what she was doing all the way out here in the wee hours of the morning—it was written all over his face.

Lefiya could feel it in her gut. The polite and sincere nice-guy bit had been nothing but an act. She revised her evaluation, seeing him now as nothing but a rude, insolent boy concealing information about her precious Aiz.

Her eyes narrowed like brilliant deep-blue razors, the rabbit in her sights.

“Eeeeeeeeeeep!”

“You little—!!”

Around and around and around they went through that chaotic disarray of back alleys. Why hadn’t she caught up with him yet?

She willed her legs to move faster, her eyes glued to the boy’s back and her mind screaming.

—He’s used to this!

The way he used the complicated back roads to his advantage, almost as though he’d been trained by Daedalus himself, and that explosive dash of his—

Lefiya found herself at a loss. What kind of monsters had hounded him at Level 1 that he needed to be this good at running away?

Still, she was close. She had only about five meders left.

No matter what he did, at this point, there was no way he could shake her.

Gotcha! No sooner had the thought entered her head, however, than the boy leaped down a new street.

“Wh-where’d he go?!”

In the instant it took Lefiya’s field of vision to shift to this new alleyway, the boy had simply vanished.

Where is he?! She was in a panic now. Head whipping from side to side, she discovered the entrance to another side corridor and tore down it in a flash, arms swinging wildly.

Caught up in her search for Aiz, she neglected to fully take in her surroundings. Failed to closely examine the small enclosure, hidden in the shadows of the nearby buildings like a blind spot.

And she never noticed the old stone well, its bucket rattling from its pulley…but no one in sight touching it.

“Good…morning?”

“Haah, haah, haah…! G-good morning!!”

“…Is everything all right?”

“Oh, sure…I’m fine! Just had a…a bit of a run-in…with a forest fairy…”

“A forest…fairy?”

“So beautiful but so terrifying…!”

“Are you…sure you’re all right?”

“If I could…sit down for a little bit…”

“Right, of course…”

And thus the first act atop the city walls came to a close.

The real training, however, had yet to begin.

“Haah, haah, haah…!”

Three hours must have passed since she started chasing after that boy, the sun now peeking out from below the horizon and the sky a gentle pink. Lefiya’s shoulders heaved with every breath.

It would seem so much time spent running was too much even for a Level 3. Her stamina was depleted, her skin soaked with sweat, and her body teetered in exhaustion.

“Where in the world is he…?!”

The lovely elf girl had nearly worn herself out.

As fruitless as her persistent efforts to find Aiz and the boy had become, she couldn’t give up.

It was at that moment, however, that she felt someone’s presence behind her.

Two someones, actually.

With a little gasp—and a sudden feeling of foreboding—she quickly dove behind the nearest cover she could find.

Peeping her head out just enough to have a look, she felt her heart stop.

It was her target. The boy with the white hair. And practically hanging off his shoulder was none other than Aiz.

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat—?!

With a mighty ZAP, a colossal lightning bolt seemed to strike the top of her head.

Her every muscle frozen in shock, Lefiya found herself rooted to the spot, skin cold and clammy.

Had she looked closely, she would have noticed Aiz was simply lending the boy an arm—he was quite bedraggled and altogether spent by this point, after all. But Lefiya was not examining closely. No, those blue eyes of hers saw nothing but a passionate, intimate embrace.

Someone somewhere was laughing at her, their mocking voice, real or not, ringing in her ears. She was nothing more than a living statue in the shadows.

Aiz, on the other hand, completely oblivious to her junior’s turmoil, walked right past Lefiya in her despondent heartache, consoling the boy all the while.

That night, as the members of Loki Familia were helping themselves to supper in a corner of their large mess hall, a certain elven maiden was wallowing in a cloud of misery, avoiding all eye contact with her peers.

“…What happened to her?”

“No idea…”

Tione and Tiona could be heard whispering back and forth, the two of them huddled together in front of Lefiya as though conducting some sort of secret meeting. And, indeed, Lefiya’s head was curved at an unnatural angle that was almost gruesome. Even Aiz, sitting next to the two Amazonian sisters, had finally noticed Lefiya’s distressed aura. It puzzled her.

Every girl in the hall and even the guys currently congregating around Bete and Raul were visibly whispering, elbowing one another, and generally keeping their distance from the dejected elf.

“…Lefi…ya? Is everything all right?”

Girding herself against the oppressive miasma enveloping the girl, Aiz took a step toward Lefiya—an act that garnered the admiring gazes of her peers. The trembling hesitation in her voice was audible.

Lefiya didn’t respond, not even lifting her head.

Just as Aiz was getting truly worried about the girl’s state of mind, Lefiya posed a question calmly, gently, in a husky timbre practically squeezed from her throat.

“What were you doing with that human this morning, Miss Aiz?”

“?!”

Aiz was overwhelmed by an incredible sense of enmity and menace…How does she know?!

Lefiya just sat there, waiting for Aiz’s response, with her head bowed, her eyes hidden beneath her bangs, and extraordinary gloom emanating from her every pore.

The incriminating silence only heightened Aiz’s turmoil. She could feel everyone’s eyes and attention on her back. She needed to do something. Grabbing Lefiya’s hand, she quickly pulled her out of the mess hall.

“L-Lefiya…how did you know…?”

She took Lefiya to an empty room, still very much on edge.

It was rare to see Aiz so visibly shaken. Lefiya, on the other hand, had yet to lift her head.

As the pressure continued to throw Aiz’s consciousness into disarray, Lefiya finally parted her lips in response.

“This morning, I chased you to the northwestern part of town…It was there that I witnessed a goddess of the sword with beautiful golden hair and eyes in the arms of an unknown human boy.”

“?!”

“Miss Aiz, you wouldn’t…happen to have some sort of long-lost sister, would you? Or perhaps I was hallucinating…? I…I have been thinking about it all day, Miss Aiz, and I still have yet to come up with an explanation that makes sense…”

“L-Lefiya, try and…calm down for a moment, would you?”

“If that really was you, Miss Aiz…I…I—!!”

The pressure in the room multiplied exponentially.

Lefiya drew closer. The veteran top-class adventurer was sweating. She could feel the elf’s shadow consuming her.

When she slowly raised her head, there were tears in those brilliant azure eyes.

At any moment, it seemed she would fling herself upon Aiz in a sobbing fit like a child who’d lost her most precious, admired, beloved sister for some reason, and Aiz was terrified.

There was no longer any way for her to hide what she’d done. It was that frightening thought that prompted her to spill everything.

“……You were training on top of the wall?”

“Y-yes.”

“…Then who was that boy holding you?”

“Um…But he was having trouble walking, so I simply lent him my shoulder…”

It didn’t take long before the interrogation made the situation crystal clear.

The black cloud of miasmatic anguish exuding from Lefiya steadily dissipated, and light returned to her vacant eyes.

“So…what you are saying is that…you are going to be training this human before the expedition begins?”

Aiz nodded. Now that Lefiya had returned to her normal, calm self, she let out a sigh of relief as she smoothed down the front of her clothes.

T-to think that boy would ask someone from another familia to train him. For free, even! Does he have no sense?!

Of course, that didn’t prevent a different concern from forming in the back of Lefiya’s mind.

Camaraderie between gods and their familias’ members was understandable, but this? This went far beyond the scope of simple kindness. And of all the possibilities, Hestia Familia? Just who are they?!

And even then there was the issue of their differing social statuses.

On the one hand, there was this lower-class adventurer from an insignificant familia, and on the other was not only a top-class adventurer but one of the leaders of the strongest factions in the entire city to boot.

Anyone else listening to this would surely tell him to “learn his place.”

This is insane! Unbelievable! Outrageous!!

All manner of curses rang through her head, the face of that white-haired boy rising in her mind.

The impudence of that boy! All alone with Miss Aiz like that! I am so…so…JEALOUS!!

That was the reason, ultimately.

That boy was monopolizing her Aiz for personal early morning training.

Lefiya’s entire being curdled with envy at the mere thought of that nameless white-haired boy.

“Um…I think you may have gotten the wrong impression. I was the one who offered to train him…It’s not his fault. He wouldn’t be involved if not for me.” Seeing the resentment and jealousy playing out like a wordless soliloquy on Lefiya’s face, Aiz quickly tried to intervene.

The desperate way Aiz tried to cover for the boy, however, only worsened Lefiya’s mood, expressed as a guttural “Gnkk…”

Look at her, so concerned for him. Does that boy know how lucky he is? Does he?!

“Please, Lefiya. Don’t tell Loki, Finn…anyone about this, okay?”

That beautiful curve of her brows. That golden tremble of her eyes.

Do you really want to train him that much, Miss Aiz? the voice in her head implored weakly, frailly, as she trembled in silence.

She tried to keep her emotions from rushing out, but she couldn’t bear it any longer.

The jealousy welling up inside finally exploded, her voice rising as she hardened her resolve.

“If…if you want me to keep this secret, you will have to do something for me!”

No one would have believed that Lefiya, now completely red in the face, had demanded something from the person she admired more than anyone in the world.

It completely blindsided Aiz. A mutiny like this, or resistance rather, was the last thing she’d expected, and it shocked her.

Seeing the look on Aiz’s face made Lefiya’s heart ache, but there was no turning back now.

“Y-you must train me, as well! Just like that human! Only you and me! Alone!!”

The words crackled on her tongue, her face a brilliant shade of red.

All Aiz could do for a moment was blink in silence.

Then, finally, she nodded ever so slightly.

“If that’s what you want…”

“R-really?!”

Aiz nodded again. “Yes…It’s all right.”

“Y-yes!”

Lefiya gave a little leap right there on the floor, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Her long bright sunny locks swirled around from her prancing, revealing the light-pink flush of her soft cheeks.

She was positively beaming. Her earlier jealousy, the boy—everything else was forgotten.

And all her beloved Aiz could do was stare in confusion as the elf girl twirled around and around and around.

Thus, in return for keeping the practice atop the city walls a secret, Aiz came to train not one but two.

Only six days remained until the day of the expedition.

This marked the second day of their training.

Same as the day before, Aiz had been conducting the breeze with her scabbard atop the city walls since the early hours of the morning.

The wind shrieked, and in every fading flash of her vigorous slashing was the white-haired Bell.

“Make every move count. Think before you move. Use the space to your advantage.”

“R-right!”

Aiz emphasized each word with a jab of her scabbard as Bell moved to block each attack with his dagger. It was an intense back-and-forth, or perhaps it would be more accurately described as fending off a one-sided assault. Their feet moved like lightning as the scrimmage continued.

After worrying all day yesterday, she’d finally decided on what to teach.

They’d practice dueling.

There was no way someone with her limited conversational skills would be able to instruct anyone using her words. It wasn’t possible to convey everything she knew about combat. After countless failures on the first day, she offered him a new proposal and said only one thing:

“Let’s fight.”

Their weapons clashed, the two of them reading each other’s movements, looking for anything they could use to their advantage.

She told Bell to get a feel for everything she did during their practice battle, and then to steal everything he could.

Aiz might have been using only her scabbard, but Bell wielded a real dagger fit for use in the Dungeon, so it was about as close to a real battle as they could get. She tried just hard enough to distill any unfounded fears the boy might have, not even allowing him to fight back as she peppered him with blows from her relatively harmless scabbard.

“Flailing wildly in an attempt to block…won’t help.”

“Ngh?!”

“Connect each block with your next move, whether attacking or changing position.”

Of course, Aiz wasn’t going to leave everything up to Bell to learn himself.

She made sure to point out anything she noticed as the two of them fought, interjecting words of advice between jabs. Even though she rarely spoke, Aiz still managed to provide him the minimum degree of instruction.

Whenever he exposed an opening or made a poorly conceived move, Aiz imbued her scabbard with her thoughts and struck his body as though warning him.

How strange…

In the dim light of the still-distant sunrise, Aiz took the opportunity to examine Bell, who was frantically attempting to block her every attack.

Finn, Gareth, and Riveria had drilled the same basics of combat into her some nine years before, when she was learning the ways of adventurers as well as absorbing their wisdom. Now she was the mentor.

As Aiz recalled all these somewhat poignant memories, she saw her young self reflected in the boy in front of her. Determined to stand and face her despite his ragged breathing, he seemed to transform into an inflexible golden-haired, golden-eyed girl who hated to lose. Meanwhile, she’d become Finn, with his carrot-and-stick approach, as well as Gareth, hearty in every word and action. Most of all, she was Riveria, the severe disciplinarian.

Her hands didn’t stop. Everything those mentors had taught her was coming back to her. She could see the mock battles especially clearly.

But only doing this together wasn’t enough.

Guiding his movements, she made sure he was following her every step as she attacked.

Finn and the others had done this much, at least, to instruct the young girl she’d once been.

But I can’t yet match something like that…

She couldn’t mimic them. It was absolutely impossible for her to stand in the same league.

And as Bell’s breathing grew more and more ragged, even more so than yesterday, all Aiz could do was utter a silent apology.

There was a reason Finn, Gareth, and Riveria were the leaders of Loki Familia.

They’d shown her patience through the many arguments shared together and given all their guidance freely despite her childish resistance. The more she came to understand their degree of accomplishment, the more she felt the full weight of her own immaturity press down on her.

So she assigned herself a new mission. She would, of course, help Bell hone his skills through this training, but she would also be polishing her own at the same time.

Her scabbard collided with Bell’s dagger, causing a dull thud.

“Mm…Well done.”

“Y-you mean it?!”

He’d blocked it quite well, actually. Referencing the way Finn had spurred her on with both praise and criticism, Aiz made sure to do the same.

The words made him so happy, Bell all but forgot the pain and exhaustion, his face brightening with an almost visible shine.

All Aiz could see was a rabbit perking up at a carrot dangled in front of its face, and the thought brought a tiny smile to her lips.

Bell blushed instantly. Aiz cocked her head just slightly in confusion.

“Shall we rest for a bit?”

“Oh, uh…sure.” He wheezed in response, shoulders heaving with his every breath.

Aiz lowered her scabbard as Bell did the same with his dagger.

The two of them stood facing each other, five steps apart atop the wide city wall, as the breeze cooled their hot skin.

He’s improved since yesterday…

Aiz watched as Bell wiped the sweat from his face.

Compared to the first day, there was a dramatic difference in his movements—well, perhaps that was a bit of an overstatement, but the change was certainly visible. Whether or not this was due to his uncanny growth, however, Aiz couldn’t be certain.

There was a kind of simpleminded intensity radiating from him. As though he clung to her every word, taking everything she’d told him and reexamining it endlessly.

That being said, there was no way he could go beyond her instructions or surpass her expectations. Still, he was doing well.

He needs to focus on defense…After that, technique and strategy.

She’d evaluated him yesterday—the first day of their training—identifying and pointing out his current level and weaknesses.

The problem was that Bell Cranell was a coward.

It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. In fact, it actually had some advantages when it came to solo trips into the Dungeon. When it came to combat, however, that cowardice led to one major problem: Bell was more apt to flee than fight. Fearing enemy attacks and the pain they might bring, he often took off like a frightened rabbit. This explained why his evasion skills were more developed than his defensive skills.

Aiz made it her top priority to teach him how to properly defend.

Actually, what she really wanted to do was pass on her technique of deflecting and eluding incoming attacks.

When they started, there had remained a mere seven days to train him before Loki Familia’s expedition. If she could impress upon him even a fraction of all the defensive skills, methods, and strategies she hoped to teach, then one way or another, she could make it work.

His shortcomings. Areas of improvement. Strengths.

She carefully considered each of them in turn, going over everything she already knew about the boy.

He does have…one thing going for him…

His ability to flee from danger—practically a specialty at this point—was impressive even by Aiz’s standards.

While this was likely due to his craven nature, it was still a splendid weapon of his.

Bell’s strategy in fights fundamentally boiled down to a hit-and-run approach.

After taking into account his disposition, constitution, familia, and aptitude with his weapon, that wasn’t necessarily a poor decision.

But if he could only harness the courage he’d shown earlier…

After peeling off that shell of his…things could get interesting, Aiz’s intuition was telling her.

The first topics that rose to Aiz’s mind were speed and quantity of attacks. Making full use of both would give him a fierce attack—a rush.

If he could learn to use two weapons at once, a dagger in each hand, that would be perfect.

Striking from the front with great agility. Truly, this was Aiz’s preferred style.

—She had thought that far before gasping involuntarily.

Was that all right? Molding the boy in her own image? No, no! I can’t, I can’t! Her head throbbed from the inner turmoil.

What discipline to follow was Bell’s decision.

Forcing her ideals onto someone else was simply unacceptable. Even more so when it came to combat.

Her only job was to teach him the basics, not lead him, and she needed to remember that.

“Still…he could be interested,” she muttered beneath her breath.

Once Bell’s breathing had finally settled back into a steady pace, Aiz explained what she’d observed from their duel.

“I’m a…coward…”

Bell’s shoulders gave the slightest of shudders.

That reaction was enough for Aiz to realize she’d hit the nail on the head.

“You’re still…worried about that? What I said yesterday…?”

“No, I mean, it’s…well……yeah.” Bell’s gaze went first left, then right, before finally dropping to the ground. His voice seemed liable to disappear back down his throat.

The pathetic sight brought with it the sting of her own failure, and Aiz furrowed her brows.

You’re…a coward.

There’s something that you’re afraid of.

I don’t know what it is that frightens you but…when the time comes, you’ll only be able to run away.

That’s what she’d told him yesterday before plunging head-on into their duel.

What she’d unearthed and revealed to him.

No doubt, her words had hit quite close to home.

Which would explain his newfound refusal to retreat—to the point of reckless abandon—meeting every one of Aiz’s blows as though shying away would spell disgrace.

Aiz’s tactless commentary had burrowed its way deep inside him, where the resentment and shame continued to weigh heavily on his shoulders even now.

I hurt him again…

Aiz was beginning to get an idea of just what it was Bell feared so much.

Though there wasn’t much she could do until she knew for sure, it was clear that the scar was deep—some sort of trauma, almost—and it wasn’t something he would easily overcome.

And here Aiz was brazenly provoking him despite how much he was subconsciously suffering. Was she really so incompetent?

Or was it just that Bell didn’t want to hear that from her?

That he was a coward.

Perhaps he wanted to scream at her how he was no coward.

All Aiz saw standing in front of her was a young boy giving his all to be strong…even as his torment and shame trampled him.

“…Mhn, uh…What I said earlier? About you being a coward? That…was wrong.”

She couldn’t take it any longer. It was unbearable seeing him like that.

To unravel his misunderstanding, as though caressing those pitiable cheeks, she tried to speak her mind.

“I don’t think…you’re pitiful, useless, or anything like that. I know yesterday…I called you a coward, but it’s important that…”

Her words were broken, faltering, and her voice grew softer and softer, heavy with emotion. Bell’s distraught face rose to meet hers.

As those entreating rubellite eyes trembled with feeling, the words became harder and harder for Aiz to find.

Frustrated at her inability to express herself, she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

“…While cowardice should not be confused with caution…”

She prefaced her thoughts with the words she remembered Finn, Gareth, and Riveria told her once.

“Sometimes…being afraid of something can save your party in the Dungeon.”

“…”

“Really, people who feel no fear at all are more dangerous.”

—Someone like me, said the voice from deep inside her, but she continued, Bell hanging on her every word.

“Which is why it’s important…that you’re not ashamed to be afraid. Okay?”

“Miss Aiz…”

“I don’t want you to ever forget that.”

Now that she’d gotten the words out there, she couldn’t stop them, and Bell continued to gaze up at her, wide-eyed, opposite her, as she shifted the focus back to her with just four words:

“The way I did.”

“Huh?!”

“I did nothing but worry Riveria and the others. I got my friends involved yet felt nothing. That doesn’t make me an adventurer…that makes me nothing but a monster.”

Aiz lowered her head. She had long since become numb to fear or terror in her quest for power.

Letting the thoughts of her past drift through her mind, well aware that she could never change from the foolish girl she’d become, she gave Bell her advice.

“Don’t become like me.”

The self-deprecating girl could see nothing but her feet now.

The voice spilling from her throat seemed so distant, a dim shadow settling on her slim shoulders.

She no longer noticed Bell in front of her, her vision now completely occupied by the rocks of the wall beneath her.

“…Th-that’s not true!!”

The loud voice shook her from her reverie.

“A monster wouldn’t have been able to save me!”

Aiz’s head snapped up to find Bell leaning forcefully in her direction.

The words continued to shoot from his mouth with uncanny boldness.

“The way you rescued me was amazing! Like a hero out of those stories I heard as a kid! And so beautiful, too! You…You’re the one who gave me my dream of becoming an adventurer! So when you say things like that, I-I mean, it’s like…well…you know…?”

As if taken aback by his own ramblings, Bell’s words grew increasingly incoherent, and his face turned a brilliant pink.

Aiz felt her own face heating from the unadulterated praise and adoration.

Such candor and sincerity. As Aiz stood there in amazement, her cheeks growing warmer, she couldn’t help but reaffirm her belief that this boy was exactly the same as she had been once upon a time.

Her lips curved up in a tiny arc.

She saw herself, eyes shining as her mother told a story.

She remembered her dreams, full of heroes and adventure.

Wonderful, sweet memories of her childhood, called forth by the boy standing before her.

From deep within the frozen recesses of her heart, a tiny flame flickered.

“Thank you…”

The slight curve of her lips erupted into a full, wide smile. The white rabbit had soothed her heart.

For just a moment, Bell was stunned. Then the embarrassment welled up inside him ridiculously quickly, and he could not bring himself to look at Aiz’s face. His eyes wandered this way and that, focusing on everything but her.

Finally, he responded with a shy laugh of his own, happy that he’d been able to bring a smile to Aiz’s face.

“…Shall we continue with our training, then?”

“S-sure!”

Aiz felt a small tingle deep inside as the faintest traces of light appeared along the eastern horizon.

Pale-pink light dyed the tips of the distant mountains as dawn’s glow slowly overtook the dark cerulean sky. As Aiz gazed out across that magnificent scenery, she brought her scabbard to the ready.

Bell followed up with another energetic reply, and their training began anew.

…He’s gotten better.

Aiz’s eyes narrowed, following Bell’s movements, as she became the Sword Princess once again.

While he still wasn’t able to block every one of hers attacks, he wasn’t just flailing wildly anymore. Face hardened like he was possessed, Bell chased every one of Aiz’s slashes, carefully reading her timing and slipping his dagger into any openings.

Her words must have hit home, since Bell’s tendency to leap forward recklessly had all but vanished.

Seeing the difference her words had made gave Aiz a wonderful feeling of accomplishment as his teacher.

—I-I did it.

Being someone normally so bad with words only reinforced her satisfaction; Little Aiz inside her raised both hands in triumph.

Her joy was so great, in fact, that quite suddenly, without warning, she gave it everything she had.

Her scabbard became a blur, each slash faster than the next.

“Nngh!!”

“Ah.”

Her scabbard collided with the side of Bell’s head, and with a strangled cry he tumbled to the hard stone. There was a loud thud.

And now the boy was splayed out on the ground, his body slack.

She’d knocked him out cold.

“N-not again…” Aiz muttered before dashing to his side.

This was what happened as soon as she got careless. It would seem that as someone with zero teaching experience, she couldn’t properly adjust the strength of her attacks, after all.

Calming herself, she took a knee beside Bell, still sprawled faceup on his back. She reached out, fully prepared to take him in her arms in an act of gallant bravado.

Until—

She realized with a start…

“This feels…”

Passed out in her lap. Eyes closed as though sleeping.

Aiz suddenly had the very strong feeling that this had happened before.

Not more than a week prior, down on the fifth floor of the Dungeon, after succumbing to a bout of Mind Down, he’d been passed out just like this.

That’s right—the situation was almost exactly the same as when she had done as Riveria said and laid his head in her lap, only to have him dash off at top speed!

Whereupon she’d turned bright red and been heavily criticized by Riveria.

What was it that elegant high elf had told her? “Men usually adore this kind of thing! You’re probably just doing it wrong!” It might as well have happened yesterday, the way that memory was burned into the back of her mind.

Of course, Riveria had only been giving her a hard time, struggling to hold back a grin all the while. Aiz, on the other hand, had taken her words as gospel.

Gulp.

Body trembling slightly, she shifted toward Bell.

She couldn’t just end things here. Watch out, Riveria! Watch out, white rabbit! It was time for her unyielding, indomitable spirit to shine. Her revenge was nigh.

Failure was not an option. Not this time.

Ever so slowly, Aiz took a hold of Bell’s head and positioned it atop her thighs.

“Mmhn…” Bell murmured.

That same weight and pressure.

As she knelt with Bell’s head in her lap, embarrassment she was entirely unaccustomed to washed over her, and a touch of pink brightened her cheeks.

All the while, the eastern sky silently grew brighter and brighter.

Night turned to morning, and the horizon displayed the most beautiful fairy-tale-like colors, the light wrapping itself around Aiz’s shoulders as she gently stroked Bell’s forehead and cheeks.

There was something so innocent about that sleeping face, and it brought a small smile to her lips. It really did feel as though her heart had been given a good cleansing.

Was this the way her parents had felt when they’d put her to bed so many years ago?

She ran her fingers through his soft white hair, letting his heartbeat guide her into a relaxing sense of calm.

Forgetting why the two of them were up on the city walls in the first place, with Bell’s head on her lap, she let herself enjoy the moment to her heart’s content.

“Mmn…” Bell murmured again, right before his eyelids fluttered.

Aiz drew in a gasp, freezing momentarily before flinging her hands behind her back.

And then she waited, face revealing none of her inner turmoil.

She held her breath as Bell’s eyes slid open ever so slowly—

“W-waaaah!”

As soon as he realized the situation, Bell sprang from her lap with a scream.

Aiz’s shoulders drooped as she watched him scuttle away.

Am I really as bad at this as Riveria said…?

On the other hand, Bell paid Aiz no attention and didn’t stop running until he’d made it to a distant corner, face flushed with his back pressed up against a parapet.

“Wh-why a lap pillow?!”

But all Aiz could think about in response to Bell’s vigorously sputtered question was how awful she must have been.

She couldn’t tell him that she was bitter about losing to Riveria and had wanted to even the score.

Something deep inside her chest reverberated with a weak groan.

“I thought maybe…it would help you recover…more quickly…”

Unable to even glance in his general direction, she struggled to throw together an excuse.

Her response was met with a suitably suspicious look from Bell.

“…Sorry.” She uttered a meek apology, head drooping.

Aiz confessed the lie she’d just told him, still kneeling upon the stone.

“Actually…I just wanted to do it to you…”

After hearing her true intentions, Bell turned a brilliant shade of red.

“She doesn’t know what she’s saying…she doesn’t know what she’s saying…she doesn’t know what she’s saying…!”

Aiz was the kind of person who couldn’t help but misinterpret things, but what she said had completely shaken Bell and broken him. Again and again he repeated something to himself, both hands cradling his head.

Aiz cocked her head to the side as she watched Bell struggle with waves of emotional turmoil, warning himself to not misunderstand.

Seeing his strange behavior, Aiz asked tentatively, “You didn’t like it…after all, then?”

“Ehhhh?!”

Bell’s head shot up.

Next thing she knew, his already flushed face grew even darker as his hands leaped up in frantic denial.

“I don’t hate it at all! In fact, it’s more like a-a side benefit? I-I mean, no! No, that’s not what I meant! Forget that! I mean, I did enjoy it, but—Wait, I didn’t mean that in a weird way…!”

He rattled off one thing after another, unable to communicate his thoughts while his face became redder than an apple.

“Then…will you let me try it on you again?”

“More than let you, I want you to do it, but…it’s just that, you know, it’d be embarrassing and pathetic…I mean, it’s really only something you do when someone’s passed out and there’s no other option, right—?!”

“So…as long as I only do it when you’re unconscious, it’s fine, right?”

“Huh?”

Aiz rose to her feet in one swift motion, readying her scabbard.

Her golden eyes bored into Bell with intense desire.

Aiz’s spirit was unwilling to yield to Riveria’s evaluation, but more important, a wish to hold the white rabbit in her lap once more bloomed inside. Her heart would be soothed and she would ruffle his soft white fur.

Bit by bit.

She steadily whittled down the distance between them.

The strange atmosphere she’d created was too much for Bell to stay silent. “M-Miss Aiz? Miss Aiz?! Why are you looking at me like that?!”

“You’re imagining things.”

Bell fearfully readied his dagger and prepared to back up, only to realize he was already against the wall. There was nowhere to run.

Eyes glimmering with an all-consuming longing, Aiz eliminated any doubts the boy had as she practically flew toward him.

Not even two seconds went by before Bell’s shrieking “Gaaahhh!!” rose into the sky.

Several minutes later…

Bell was, once again, passed out cold with his head neatly positioned in Aiz’s lap. She ran her fingers through his bangs over and over, a blissfully satisfied look on her face.

A few more minutes later…

Aiz started with a gasp—she’d completely forgotten the original purpose of their training.

When at last the boy’s eyes reopened, she peppered him with apologies.

Traditionally, magic tests—often referred to as a magic user’s combat training—were held within the Dungeon.

It went without saying that tossing spells around in the middle of the city would pose a threat to civilians and city property alike, which in turn would invite Guild involvement.

Hosting it in the Dungeon, however, with its rampant monster spawning, guaranteed that at worst, only other adventurers would get involved. Magic users who wanted to practice avoided the established routes, venturing deep into the Dungeon to ensure members of other familias wouldn’t get caught in their spell effects (or overhear their magical chants).

“I’ll be in your care, Miss Aiz!”

Ever her usual self, Lefiya stood ready to go into one of the western chambers on the Dungeon’s fifth floor.

Six days remained until the expedition.

As adventurers began venturing into the Dungeon in droves, the elven magic user hurried to the innermost room of the floor. In front of her stood Aiz, fresh from her second day of training with Bell.

The large squared space they currently occupied had only one exit. There wasn’t a single soul in sight, making it the perfect place to try a few spells in complete secrecy. It was first-come, first-served when it came to spots as ideal as this for spell training. Speed was key.

While altercations between magic users looking for training spots were rare—they tended to be intellectuals, after all—the same couldn’t be said when it came to the throng of low-level adventurers trying to nab the prime locations for grinding.

“But I really am sorry for making you join me. You’re training even me…” Lefiya gripped her staff.

“Don’t worry about it.” Aiz shook her head, still clad in her lightweight armor and sword at her side. She would be training both Bell and Lefiya until the day of the expedition, the young boy in the early morning and her elven admirer from day till dusk.

Despite feeling apologetic at dragging her straight to the Dungeon after their breakfast together, Lefiya couldn’t fight back the sheer excitement at being there with Aiz.

Sure, she felt a little put out at getting Aiz after that boy, but the fact that she’d have the Sword Princess all to herself for the whole day more than made up for it.

How about that? Do you see now? Are you jealous?!

She didn’t even need to know a name to egg him on in her mind.

The pointless inner conflict had her feeling not only motivated but triumphant as well. She was with her glorious idol, after all.

Lefiya waited impatiently for her training to begin, gladder than ever that she’d requested Aiz.

“Let’s start, then…”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“…So…what should we do?”

“…”

Lefiya almost fell to her knees. She had already failed before she could even begin.

“Is there anything I can teach you? I’m a sword fighter, after all…”

The two reached the same fundamental issue, though it was too late to worry about it.

Beyond the how-tos of adventuring, there really wasn’t much a swordswoman could teach a magic user. The practical skills and combat methods of a caster like Lefiya, focused on chanting techniques and ranged attacks from the rear guard, did not have a great deal of overlap with a swordswoman like Aiz, who focused on hand-to-hand combat on the front line.

“I’ve been thinking about what I could do with you since yesterday…but I couldn’t come up with anything,” Aiz confessed weakly, her head hung in apology. Her brain was already pushed to its limits coming up with a training regimen for Bell.

Indeed, if Lefiya truly wanted to polish her skills as a magic user, she’d have better luck continuing under Riveria’s tutelage. That would have been much more helpful.

Lefiya could feel the inklings of shame building like sweat beneath her collar. She’d been focused solely on being with Aiz and hadn’t considered much else.

A heavy quiet settled over the two of them as their gazes drifted toward the ground.

Not even the far-off cry of a monster could break the silence.

Finally, Lefiya couldn’t bear it any longer. “What, uh…what kinds of things are you doing with that human?”

“Mostly we’ve just been having practice duels…” Aiz began.

But before she’d finished her thought, she suddenly understood, and she took on a considering expression.

“…Has Riveria covered Concurrent Casting with you yet, Lefiya?”

A look of surprise crossed Lefiya’s face, and then she nodded stiffly.

“Th-the basics of it, yes. Though I am…not very good…” she confessed, cheeks tinted pink with shame.

She’d been given the general knowledge but had yet to really put it into practice. As it stood now, she couldn’t handle much more than a brisk walk or light run while chanting.

According to Riveria, her “mind and spirit weren’t ready,” which was why the high elf had been having her meditate to train her inner self.

In reality, Concurrent Casting was more of a pipe dream for Lefiya, with training to hasten her chanting time requiring most of her efforts. Shaving off even a single second meant that much less of a burden for her party members. After all, one second in the Dungeon could mean the difference between victory and defeat. Chanting skills weren’t just important for a magic user, they were their everything.

“It’s ’cause yer head’s as soft as tofu, Lefiya!” Loki had once told her, whatever that meant.

Hence why she was studying the way of the “unshakable tree,” as Riveria called it. So she could keep her cool no matter the situation and prevent an Ignis Fatuus from occurring when she used magic.

While Lefiya shamefully explained all her faults and shortcomings and everything she’d been taught, Aiz merely nodded, deep in thought.

Aiz pondered scrupulously, her eyes never leaving Lefiya’s. “…I’m not sure if mixing in my teachings with Riveria’s will be a good thing or not, but why don’t we try practicing some Concurrent Casting? In an actual battle,” she added, making Lefiya stop short.

“If you can manage that, you should even be able to fight on your own…I think.”

Lefiya gulped audibly.

Being able to use Concurrent Casting would practically make her a mobile artillery battery. It was what every rearguard magic user dreamed of.

And Aiz had a chance to capitalize on Lefiya’s solid foundation to get a bit of sword practice while providing instruction—an arrangement that would mutually benefit both sides.

At the very least, something would change, Lefiya thought almost hopefully.

“Of course, it could be that Riveria only decided to teach you Concurrent Casting to instill a bit of confidence in you…”

“…”

“Which isn’t necessarily the wrong idea…I’m just worried about doing something unnecessary. What do you think?” Aiz pondered, leaving the final decision to Lefiya.

As those golden eyes peered into her own, Lefiya’s gaze fell, and she gripped her staff tightly in both hands.

Aiz was right. There was no doubt Riveria had made the correct decision in disciplining Lefiya’s immature spirit, instilling some self-confidence, and helping her grow as a magic user.

But when? When would that confidence finally come?

At what point could she say with absolute faith that she was no longer a burden to Aiz, Riveria, Tiona and Tione, and all the others—a feat that seemed no less difficult than scaling the world’s tallest mountain?

In a year?

Five years?

Ten? Twenty?

She couldn’t wait—that would be too long.

No matter how tall that mountain, if she didn’t aim for the top regardless of how she appeared to others, she’d never be able to stand among those women.

The disappointment she’d been down on the twenty-fourth floor, the cowardice she’d shown during the Monsterphilia…If only she had mastered Concurrent Casting at the time. Lefiya pondered what might have been.

Then she wouldn’t have held the others back. At the very least, she could have been a greater asset to them.

Even if there was risk, Lefiya wanted to give everything she had—not for the future but for now.

Raising her head, she looked Aiz straight in the eye.

“Please give me training in Concurrent Casting! Please help me practice!” Lefiya’s voice rang out, filled with determination.

She would master Concurrent Casting.

Her goal was to become a moving fortress.

And as Lefiya stood there, eyes brimming with courage, Aiz nodded.

“Understood.”

The two women faced each other, weapons at the ready and their expressions the embodiment of solemnity.

“See if you can chant and dodge my strikes at the same time.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Thrusting Desperate into the ground next to her, Aiz readied her scabbard.

Following Aiz’s lead, Lefiya, too, readied her staff. Thinking back on everything Riveria had taught her about the basics of Concurrent Casting, she prepared her mind for both chanting and moving.

Knowing she’d have her Magic to fall back on, she focused first on the physical act of moving—lips included. It would be very remiss of her to forget that.

Nerves of steel. An unshakable tree.

Levying her nervousness, she took off with a start, first chant already on her lips.

“Unlea—”

Lefiya barely had time to begin her backward leap when an attack came from the front at an almost superhuman speed.

“Huh?”

The scabbard hit her square in the side before the air could even finish passing her lips.

She let out an unnatural groan.

“Oh.”

With a single explosive blow from the Sword Princess, Lefiya went flying through the air, and her staff sailed skyward.

Aiz, on the other hand, stood frozen in the middle of her attack, scabbard still in its final position.

Lefiya tumbled across the floor of the Dungeon before coming to a stop. She moaned despondently with her arms clutching her abdomen.

“L-Lefiya!”

Aiz rushed to the girl’s side, an apology already on her lips.

Lefiya had managed only two syllables of her chant. Aiz broke into a sweat, fearing she might have caused an Ignis Fatuus.

The young elf continued groaning in agony from the floor, her body trembling.

“I’m really sorry, Lefiya…I went at you like I was still training that boy.”

But as soon as she heard Aiz’s words, Lefiya’s eyebrows twitched upward in anger.

That boy could refer to none other than the white-haired brat who’d stolen her Aiz away from her…

Lefiya’s face was heating up. Doing her best to shake off the bitter resentment building inside her, she pushed herself to her feet with an energetic pop.

“I am…completely fine! So…keep coming like that!”

“A-all right,” Aiz managed, stunned.

Lefiya’s face was all (forced) smiles even as she cradled her side with one hand. Her drive to succeed had only intensified, reinforced by the burning enmity she felt for Bell.

Fetching her staff from the ground, she did her best to compose herself.

Then readied herself for her next bout of Concurrent Casting.

“Huh?!”

But.

“Ack!”

Unfortunately.

“Eeeeeeek!!”

She couldn’t make even a little progress.

“U-unleashed pillar of—nngah!”

Lefiya’s body finally crumpled after her chant was painfully interrupted by Aiz’s scabbard.

Her legs simply gave out, and she dropped on her rump to the floor with a tiny thud. She let her staff slip from her hands as her chest heaved in and out.

She couldn’t complete a single spell.

Even with Aiz going easy on her, she was spending so much effort watching out for incoming attacks that she couldn’t complete even the most basic spell. It felt as though all she was accomplishing was practice for preventing an Ignis Fatuus backfire.

While she certainly wasn’t about to pass out as easily as a lower-class adventurer like Bell, she was clearly running on fumes by this point.

“I’m sorry, Lefiya…” Aiz’s gaze was fixed to the floor in front of the downed elf. “I overestimated myself…I shouldn’t have meddled with things I know nothing about…It’s just like Riveria said…” Aiz’s voice dripped with remorse. She didn’t know anything about magic users or the ideal way to give instruction on Concurrent Casting. She was nothing but an amateur.

Upon hearing Aiz’s apology and sigh directed at her unsightly, even disheveled self, Lefiya’s lips slowly parted.

“Miss Aiz…can I just ask…how that human is faring?” she asked, eyes boring holes through the floor.

Aiz cocked her head to the side. It took her a moment to respond.

Finally: “He’s very earnest. He tries so hard. And he’s incredibly honest…” As she relayed everything she’d seen, heard, and felt during the boy’s training, she couldn’t help the small smile that formed on her lips. “His growth is unprecedented…and I believe he has considerable room to grow even further,” she concluded, wonder tangible in her voice. In her mind, she thought back to the boy’s training session and the glimpse she had caught of his astonishing growth on only their second day. He had hung so fiercely on her every word, sunk his teeth into her every instruction.

Hearing this, Lefiya’s hands hit the floor with a mighty slap.

“?!”

The impact and power of a Level 3 left a crack in the Dungeon floor and rising wisps of smoke.

Lefiya’s body began to shake.

Her despair had reached its peak.

I couldn’t do…a single thing…

While I’ve been doing nothing but making a disgrace of myself, that boy has only improved?!

Fiery heat engulfed her body. The relentless waves of boiling-hot rage only further fostered the uncontrollable trembling of her every muscle.

In her mind, she could see him. He dashed ahead of her, wearing a disgustingly refreshing smile as he said, Giving up already? Well then, I’ll be going on ahead!

Grrrrr……!! Her mind sputtered in barely repressed, incomprehensible fury.

Her pathetic state was unforgivable.

She wouldn’t tolerate it anymore.

Not when that boy was working hard enough to earn recognition from Aiz already!

—I won’t lose! I won’t!

This was the moment that human boy became Lefiya’s rival.

Roaring from the depths of her lungs, she flung herself to her feet.

Her eyes narrowed, displaying a mettle not present during her training with Riveria, shining with an overpowering determination that seemed enough to pierce through the Dungeon’s walls.

“I can still go on. Please continue!”

Aiz stared at the girl for a moment in wide-eyed amazement before finally smiling.

With a nod, she readied her scabbard, and Lefiya’s Concurrent Casting practice began anew.

Refusing to shrink back from attack after attack, Lefiya continued her song and chants, blue eyes blazing all the while.

“Hey, Riveria. What’s Lefiya been up to lately?”

Tiona was covered from head to toe in blood and wounds.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question…?” Riveria sighed from her position on the couch. One hand held a cup of tea while the other pressed lightly at the spot between her closed eyes.

Five days remained until the expedition.

They were in the parlor room of Twilight Manor, home of Loki Familia, just a bit before noon. The majority of members had already left for the day, leaving Riveria alone to rest in the lounge overlooking the street. Until two twin Amazonian sisters had appeared, their matching pareu-style skirts looking decidedly worse for wear.

A lingering heat wafted up from their exposed dark skin as Tiona’s semi-short mop and Tione’s long silken tresses both swayed softly.

“Tione and I were sparring! Sparring!”

“We were both feeling a little discouraged after Aiz’s last level-up. Couldn’t just leave it at that, now, could we?”

Tione’s slumped shoulders looked mildly out of place juxtaposed with Tiona’s overly cheerful exaltation. Of course, they were referring to Aiz’s recent progress to Level 6.

“Indeed, but we all have our limits…” Riveria sighed again, her eyes taking in the mangled state of both their bodies.

This wasn’t unusual for the twins. Inseparable as they’d been since birth, they were always attempting to help bolster each other’s skills, from sparring matches like this to sisterly catfights, and even included worryingly almost-literal fights to the death. Riveria knew this.

While she had no problem with the two of them duking it out, there was a point where the risk of danger became too high.

“You aren’t the only ones. It seems the entire familia has gotten itself into a training craze. Honestly, and right before the expedition, too…”

Indeed, the entire faction was feeling the effects of Aiz’s recent growth, ushering in a slew of intensive practice regimens. From the lower-class members to the upper echelons, it was like they were all ablaze, everyone inspired to achieve the same greatness as the beautifully powerful face of the familia—the Sword Princess.

This was why the manor was so empty at the moment. Everyone was off in the Dungeon or undergoing harsh training trying to follow in her footsteps.

The second-in-command of Loki Familia sighed in an attempt to flush out her worries.

“I bet Lefiya’s probably training, too.” Tiona thought back first to the deadly aura Lefiya had exuded that one night at dinner and then to the extraordinary new burst of enthusiasm she had been displaying recently. Could Aiz have something to do with that?

“Come to think of it, Aiz has seemed a little off lately, too, hasn’t she?” Tione mused beside her sister.

“You know anything, Riveria?”

“I am just as in the dark as you two…”

Though even as she said it, Riveria’s mind drifted back to her memories of the day prior.

Lefiya had approached her in need of learning materials. This by itself wasn’t at all unusual, but there’d been something about her, like she was possessed by some horrifying demon. The change had been enough to make even Riveria hesitate.

Lefiya had spent the entire night rooted to her desk, paging through book after book. She’d always been a little zealous, but her desperately repeating sessions of trial and error went beyond her normal efforts.

Perhaps she has found a good rival to spar with.

Riveria might not have lived as long as a god, but she was a high elf and had lived her fair share of years—she recognized this kind of change when she saw it.

“More important…Do something about your appearance, you two.” Riveria unsubtly brought up the twins’ disheveled condition.

It wouldn’t have surprised her if the “sparring” the two had done wasn’t closer to that of an actual battle, considering their bloodstained skin and messy clothes, hair, and faces.

Elves were naturally fastidious, and for Riveria, looking at the two of them right now was positively agonizing.

“Meh. We’re just resting a bit before we have another go. Why bother?”

“Yeah, it’d be a pain anyway.”

All Riveria could do was let out another sigh at the blithe and optimistic Amazonian sisters.

Standing up from the sofa, she took Tione’s hand and forced her onto a nearby chair.

“What are you doing?”

“You want to look like a lady for Finn, yes? Then you should at least do something about your hair.”

Riveria circled around behind the girl and started combing her long, dark hair. Using one of the combs in the parlor room, she tamed Tione’s unkempt hair bit by bit.

“You’re actually quite…good at this, Riveria. I’d always thought that, as a high elf, you’d have servants to do these kinds of things for you.”

“It was when I was looking after Aiz. That girl…She didn’t give a single thought to her hair. Things got to the point where I couldn’t take it any longer. I ended up learning,” Riveria explained with a wry smile. Her eyes narrowed as her thoughts drifted back to memories from many years ago.

Tione’s own eyes slowly closed. The feeling of Riveria’s hands softly threading through her hair was a bit ticklish, but it was so wonderful at the same time.

“No fair! Do me next, Riveria!”

“All right, all right, just give me a moment.” Riveria’s eyes softened with a smile as she shook her head, clucking her tongue. These girls.

Helpless between the almost catlike Amazonian sisters in their capriciousness, Riveria wove the tines through Tiona’s long hair with gentle swish-swishes that seemed to fill the room.

“Hey, Riveria?”

“What is it?”

“You knew Aiz since she was little, right? Like…around the time she entered the familia?” Tiona asked slowly, watching over her sister from the nearby chair.

“I did,” Riveria replied, not even turning her head.

It had been almost nine years since that day. Aiz had been only seven.

“Did you know Aria?”

Riveria’s hand came to an abrupt stop.

“Riveria…?” Tione turned around in her seat, eyeing the elf suspiciously.

Riveria, on the other hand, turned her jade-colored eyes toward Tiona.

“Where did you hear that name?”

“Lefiya…She said Aiz was called that during that time down on the eighteenth and twenty-fourth floors,” Tiona explained sincerely, her eyes now fixed on Riveria. The two sisters intently watched the high elf, her beauty surpassing even that of goddesses.

“Seems like a lot of weird stuff has been happening lately. New species of monsters, whatever it was that happened to Bete and the others on the twenty-fourth floor…I can’t be sure, but it seems like something serious is going on.”

The viola attacks that’d plagued them since the Monsterphilia.

The battle that had broken out surrounding Hashana’s control of the crystal-orb fetus down in Rivira on the eighteenth floor and the chance encounter with that monster-manipulating tamer woman, the creature Levis.

Then on the twenty-fourth floor, as if that wasn’t already enough, the remnants of the shadowy Evils faction had decided to make an appearance, along with their schemes to destroy Orario.

Tiona crossed her legs atop the sofa, trembling slightly as she relayed each event in turn.

“It almost makes me wonder whether Aiz being called ‘Aria’ by those thugs has something to do with, you know, everything that’s been going on lately.”

“…”

“I mean, Aria’s the name of the main character in that legend, right? But that couldn’t possibly have anything to do with Aiz…”

As Tiona trailed off, Riveria let her gaze return forward.

Silently, broodingly, she ran the comb once more through Tione’s hair before coming to a stop, just as she’d done so many times for Aiz in the past.

“You know anything, Riveria?” Tione asked.

But Riveria didn’t reply.

The only thing that changed was the tilt of her head, just enough that she could direct her gaze out the window.

“The fifty-ninth floor…” Riveria finally said. “…There, everything will be made clear.”

The sky reflected a brilliant blue in her jade eyes.

“Y’know, yer theory was right on the money, Finn!”

It was out on the main street, with the sun shining down and the sky crystal clear, where an unhurried voice—lazy, almost—announced its opinion.

It was about the same time Riveria and company were having their own conversation up in the parlor room of the manor. Bustling carriages and boisterous demi-humans clattered about the cobblestones, while the prum Finn glanced up at the figure next to him.

“How so, Loki?”

Walking along beside him was none other than the goddess with ginger hair and cinnabar-colored eyes, Loki.

The deity in question glanced down at her follower, hands laced behind her head.

“When we went over everything with Gareth and Riveria! Said it yerself, didn’cha?”

It had been six days now since Aiz had gotten them involved in that incident down on the twenty-fourth floor.

Loki had been discussing it together with the three faction leaders in their home’s office, and it was then that Finn had said it. They still knew nothing about that creature Levis, and they were still in the dark regarding that new species of monster and their strange, richly colored magic stones.

“We simply don’t have the knowledge to pacify that many monsters. Doing so—”

—is nothing more than a fantasy, was how Finn had finally completed his sentence in an attempt at masking his true feelings.

“But you actually wanted to finish that sentence like this, yeah?” Loki brought it up again, refusing to let sleeping dogs lie. And then, in a perfect imitation of Finn, “Doing so would put us on par with those monstrous underground dwellers.”

The prum’s shoulders visibly slumped. Loki had seen straight through him.

“It seems even a god like you could take a stab at where that was heading.”

“And what a stab!” Loki teased, a playful smile gracing her lips. “What’s left of the Evils—they ain’t people or monsters. They’re phantoms. Which is why this whole thing with the crystal orb turned into such a big to-do. Finn, whaddaya think is down on the fifty-ninth floor, huh?”

During their encounter on the twenty-fourth floor, Levis had told Aiz:

“Go to the fifty-ninth floor. Should answer a lot of your questions.”

And that’s where they were going on their expedition. To the new depths beyond the farthest they’d ever tread—the fifty-ninth floor.

Just what exactly awaited them there?

“I doubt someone like me could even hazard a guess,” Finn countered, his answer purposefully vague as a sort of riposte. He gave his thumb a little lick, intent on keeping his thoughts firmly to himself.

“Though I will say that we might finally have met our match.”

And it wasn’t just a single entity, either. It was a giant shadow made of countless, erratically overlapping lines.

A presence entangled in the expectations of many…or something like that, Finn believed.

“Ain’t that the truth,” muttered Loki under her breath.

Finn watched her out of the corner of his eye, his thumb beginning to throb.

“Hey, Finn…care if I speak freely?” Loki asked abruptly.

“What is it?” Finn looked up to see her stop short a few feet in front of him.

She turned around.

In that single moment, the air between them changed, almost as if she’d taken off some kind of mask. The corners of her mouth curled upward.

“This is why I can’t leave this world alone.”

“…”

“Hybrids aren’t humans or monsters. Even for us all-knowin’ gods, entirely unexpected things’re happenin’—like an ‘unknown’ that deities themselves can’t predict.”

Loki’s eyes widened just slightly, revealing a twinkle of delight. It was almost as though she was drunk on some sort of high-grade wine.

She could sense the unknown she had thirsted after for so long. The feeling of foreboding was enough to make her stomach curl even as the warm sun shined on the tranquil cobblestones beneath her feet. And yet that wasn’t enough to stop the insatiable elation from building in her belly.

Loki let out a laugh of pure, unadulterated joy.

Finn responded with a faint smile of his own, watching his goddess in silence.

“’Course, I’m most worried about you guys, yeah? I’m all choked up about it! Make sure ya come back alive, y’hear!” Reverting back to her usual blasé attitude, Loki circled around behind Finn and gave his shoulders a little squeeze.

They were attracting attention now. Finn forced a somewhat sardonic smile.

“No need to worry, Loki. I’m an adventurer, after all,” he responded amid the teasing. “I know all too well the feeling of challenging the unknown.”

Loki met Finn’s upturned gaze, pausing for just a moment before shooting him a grin.

The goddess and prum shared a long history, indeed.

Before long, they had resumed their walk.

The path they followed was Northeast Main Street. It bordered the Industrial District, the city’s number two ward and the heart of the magic-stone manufacturing and production industry, and was constantly clogged with freelance laborers from various guilds and familia craftsmen.

Being an area so focused on manufacturing, the majority of passersby were laborers in work attire. Burly middle-aged humans toted tools and materials to this place or that while animal-people studied production orders and shouted themselves hoarse. All throughout the hubbub echoed the clanging of metal on metal, interposed with the crassly shouted songs of dwarves at work.

It was safe to say women and children were a foreign sight in a man’s world such as this. Looking decidedly out of place, the petite Finn and female Loki wound their way from the main street to the heart of the district.

Still chatting idly, the two of them arrived at a little bungalow of a workshop.

“—We’re here.”

In front of the workshop, the building itself in desperate need of a good soot-cleansing, stood a goddess with hair of blazing vermilion.

She directed her left eye, of the same brilliant hue as her hair, toward Loki and Finn. Her right eye was currently hidden beneath the large eye patch that sheathed half her face.

“Mornin’, Phai-Phai. Or should I say ‘afternoon’?”

The woman in front of them was none other than Hephaistos, world-renowned goddess of the forge and timeless leader of Hephaistos Familia.

“Phai-Phai,” as Loki called her, raised a hand in greeting.

Even with the impressive jet-black eye patch, her divine beauty left no doubts as to whether she was a goddess or not. Her ensemble of white tunic paired with black trousers and gloves exuded an air of rustic masculinity, which, when coupled with her stunning visage, no doubt marked her as the sort of person inclined to care for others.

Hephaistos responded to Loki with a greeting of her own, red hair swaying slightly as her lips formed a weak smile.

“Sorry for calling you all the way out here like this, Loki.”

“Think nothin’ of it! We’re the ones draggin’ yer mates along on our expedition to keep our weapons all nice ’n’ shiny, after all.”

Loki Familia had sought Hephaistos Familia’s help on their upcoming expedition.

Finn had come to Hephaistos (via Loki) to request provision of a High Smith in hopes of staving off wear and tear for their weapons during their expedition.

Hephaistos had agreed, so long as her followers were guaranteed the drop items from the Dungeon. Thus, an alliance had been forged between the two familias.

“Your acceptance of our proposal means the world to us, Lady Hephaistos.”

“Oh? Such gratitude from a prum of valor like yourself is a distinction all its own. It brings me nothing but honor to help you and your familia on your trek through the Dungeon.” Hephaistos’s eye crinkled in response to Finn’s deep bow.

“Your words are too kind, milady.” Finn’s eyes closed at the goddess’s dignified demeanor.

“This is the first time y’all are meetin’, right?”

“It is. Though we’ve greeted each other many times in the past, this is the first time we’ve spoken face-to-face, I believe,” Finn said.

“Let’s continue this conversation inside, yes?” Hephaistos suggested before guiding Loki and Finn toward her workshop. The two followed her into the building, surrounded by the clamorous clanking of metal on metal.

“We’ve been asking her again and again to have a meeting before the expedition…Finally had to just come here ourselves. She really doesn’t ever leave her workshop, does she?”

Loki just laughed. “She’s just like you, Phai-Phai! A real craftsman at heart. Seems the apple don’t fall far from the tree after all, eh?”

“I suppose some things never change.”

Hephaistos let out a sigh, which elicited another chuckle from Loki and a quirk of the lips from Finn.

Immediately upon entering the doorway, they were greeted with the strong smell of iron, which permeated the air of the workshop and the considerably sized smithy connected to it. Lacking sufficient magic-stone lamps, the space was shrouded in dim shadow, the main source of light coming from the brilliant red flames of the roaring furnace.

Now that they’d entered the building, the mad clang, clang of metal on metal they’d been able to hear outside besieged their eardrums all the more. It was there, farther inside the workshop, that they saw her.

She was facing away from them, surrounded on all sides by some of the biggest tools they’d ever seen and pounding animatedly at an ingot on her anvil with a hammer.

Ember after ember from the nearby furnace singed the copper skin of her cheeks; sweat poured from her face in rivulets, adding still more to her aura of gallantry. While her disciplined features lacked the feminine allure of a woman, there was a different sort of beauty about her—ferocious, like a blazing pyre: the epitome of a craftsman.

She took no notice of Hephaistos and the others, eyes glued to her anvil as the hammer descended with one mighty strike after another.

Finn and Loki came to a stop a few steps away from the forge. Hephaistos gestured silently for them to wait, and they complied with a nod, simply watching over the lone smith at work.

The woman’s ebony ponytail shuddered, and with one final clang of the hammer, her hand came to a stop. Without missing a beat, she snatched the completed sword body from off her anvil with a pair of tongs.

There was a hiss, followed by a plume of steam. A honed, polished blade came into view. A novice watching could have no way of knowing how long she’d spent on the weapon as she slapped together the hilt and flange. In a flash, the sword was complete.

She spent a moment scrutinizing the crimson blade in her hand before finally letting out a sigh.

“Tsubaki.” Hephaistos beckoned the woman with long black hair flowing down her back.

The one she’d called Tsubaki turned around.

“Oh?” As though noticing them just now, her right eye widened in surprise. Almost instantly, her face broke into a broad smile.

“How many weeks has it been, my goddess? Need something? No, wait! Take a look at this magic sword I just whipped up. I’m pretty confident about this one.”

As old as the woman looked, you’d almost think she was a child by the way she gleefully held out her sword, all smiles.

“I was just here two days ago…” said Hephaistos, responding to the woman’s endless stream of words with a sigh. “We need to discuss your upcoming expedition with Loki’s team. I told you this, right?” The hint of frustration was tangible.

“Ohh!” Tsubaki bellowed in what seemed like acknowledgment. She walked over to them with a laugh. “That’s right, that’s right!”

“Good to see you again, Tsubaki.”

“Well, if it isn’t Finn! Tiny as ever! When you’re cooped up in a shop all day, ya start missin’ the warmth of other people. C’mere and gimme a squeeze, would ya?” Tsubaki exclaimed before approaching the prum with her arms outstretched.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to decline,” Finn said with a wry smile. “Tione would have my head if she found out.”

The woman let out a bellow of laughter.

Tsubaki Collbrande was the captain of Hephaistos Familia.

Not only did she command the virtual army of High Smiths that made up the familia of forge work, she herself was the most skilled smith in all of Orario.

She was a half-dwarf, her parents a human from the Far East and a dwarf from the continent; she boasted a set of graceful features reminiscent of her eastern origins. Standing at a good 170 celch, she was fairly tall with long arms and legs, no doubt thanks to her human blood—a quality that apparently made her the envy of her short-limbed dwarven brethren.

Her work wear boasted the eastern flair of her mother’s homeland, the bottom consisting of a brilliant red hakama and the top consisting of nothing but a bleached cloth pulled tight around her ample bosom. As for why she kept her copper-colored stomach and shoulders bare in spite of the constant assault of embers, well, Finn had once heard her explain that the forge was “damn hot!”

Topping everything off were a shapely red right eye and, most notably, a jet-black eye patch nearly identical to Hephaistos’s—the only difference being that it covered Tsubaki’s left eye instead of her right.

“By the looks of it, ya made somethin’ ridiculous again, didn’t ya, Cyclops?”

“You know I don’t like that name, Loki! Makes me feel like some kinda monster! How’d you like it, huh?” Tsubaki’s face soured as Loki snickered at the newly finished sword in her hands.

“Cyclops” was the title given to Tsubaki by the other deities.

Being both a smith and a Level 5 adventurer, with the combat skills to prove it, made her a bit of an oddity if not an outright demon.

The peerless combat skills of the almost excessively unique craftsmen (Tsubaki included) was just one of the many reasons other factions rarely attacked Hephaistos Familia—that and its establishment as an invaluable familia of smiths.

Loki snickered somewhat lecherously. “I will say yer lookin’ as busty as ever. Look! Practically fallin’ outta that thing you call a shirt!”

“Want ’em? You can have ’em! These two lumps of fat do nothin’ but get in the way at the forge. Don’t need ’em!”

“Guh-hah!” Loki nearly choked. She hadn’t expected her obscene remark to be met with such scathing retaliation.

Tsubaki just cackled, the twin mounds in question bouncing somewhat stiffly within their cloth restraint.

“Shall we get back to the subject at hand?”

“Let’s. Time is of the essence, after all.”

Ignoring Loki in her plight, Finn and Hephaistos attempted to steer the conversation back on track.

“Yes, ma’am!” Tsubaki nodded between mouthfuls, snacking on a piece of soot-covered jerky that had been sitting on her desk for who knows how long while she’d busied herself at the forge.

And with that, once Loki had recovered, the deities and captains of both familias, shrouded in the gloom of that dim workshop, dove straight into discussion regarding their upcoming expedition.

“Look, I’m just gonna ask ya straight—how many High Smiths ya givin’ us?”

“Hmm…Looking at smiths who are not only experienced craftsmen but able-bodied adventurers, as well…I’d say we have about twenty, Tsubaki included. Every one of them is at least Level Three, so you can have faith in their abilities,” Hephaistos replied.

There was no telling what might happen upon entering the Dungeon. It would be to their advantage to have party members who could not only maintain their weapons but take care of themselves in a pinch.

“That’s reassuring. Though I have to ask—will you be joining us, as well, Tsubaki?” Finn inquired.

“For sure! I wanna see those depths for myself. That and, if at all possible, I’d like to be the one nabbin’ any new materials,” Tsubaki replied, brimming with curiosity as to what awaited them beyond the floors her own faction had traversed. She shot them a smile devoid of worry. “It’ll be a great opportunity!”

“And what of our Durandal weapons?”

“A-OK there! Five of ’em, each one prepped personally!”

“Nice, Tsubaki. Thank ya.”

“Can I ask you two to give Bete Loga an earful for me? Near impossible request he gave me! Comin’ to me cryin’ that his poor Frosvirt was all in pieces—took me forever to rebuild! Damn werewolf.”

Knowing they’d have those caterpillar monsters to deal with from the fiftieth floor onward—nasty critters that secreted corrosive, weapon-destroying fluids—Finn and the others had left their Durandal Superiors with Hephaistos and her crew. This included the weapons for each of their top-class adventurers excluding Aiz, who already had Desperate, and Riveria, who was simply a magic user.

Tsubaki had already finished up all the Durandal weapons, so when Bete had come to her with his Superior, Frosvirt, completely destroyed after their bout with Levis on the twenty-fourth floor, she’d been put out, to say the least. Apparently he’d come running immediately after the incident, demanding personally that she “fix it before the expedition!”

Tsubaki had been working day and night without sleep readying the equipment for their main party. Finn and Loki both made sure to offer her additional words of thanks.

“Though, really, I’m not sure that magic sword was necessary…”

“Yeah, we did already order a bunch o’ Superiors from y’all, and yer stuff ain’t exactly, uh, cheap…”

“Come now. Surely a familia like yours should have no problem getting a loan.” Hephaistos’s left eye crinkled in mirth.

It was true that a magic sword, what with its instant, long-range capabilities, would be a good candidate for taking on those caterpillars. But magic swords were already expensive enough, let alone a top-tier model from Hephaistos Familia.

“G-go easy there…” Loki replied with a forced laugh.

“Though I gotta say, when it comes to craftin’ magic swords…you could do better than me,” Tsubaki mumbled to herself.

“What, do you mean there’s someone better than you in that familia of yours?” Finn posed, to which Tsubaki nodded happily.

“Someone far better at forgin’ magic swords! Fact is, I don’t think there’s anyone what knows more ’bout magic swords than that person in the whole world.”

Both Finn’s and Loki’s eyes widened in surprise.

Tsubaki Collbrande was the finest smith in all of Orario.

Hearing that there was someone even better than her, the master smith, was a shock, to say the least.

“For you to talk about them like that, they must be someone, indeed. Who is it?”

As though waiting for Finn to ask just that question, Tsubaki chuckled gleefully.

“Listen and be amazed! It’s none other than that ol’ blue blood—”

“That’s enough, Tsubaki,” Hephaistos interrupted. “You know as well as I that our colleague would prefer their lineage kept a secret.”

Left Eye Patch grumbled sullenly in response to Right Eye Patch’s stern admonishment.

“Come oooon! We got nothin’ to lose! Lemme tell ’em!”

“Good grief! It’s this kind of self-centered carelessness that’s already sent people to him asking about magic swords. Remember how angry he was?”

It was clear to Finn and Loki that things were a bit complicated among the members of Hephaistos Familia.

Tsubaki, however, showed no signs that she’d actually taken Hephaistos’s scolding to heart.

“Such a waste! All that talent and he ain’t even usin’ it. Makes no sense to me.” Tsubaki sighed, her gaze falling to the red blade in her hand—the magic sword fresh from the forge.

Then, in that moment…

The air around her hardened.

“Whether it’s blood or somethin’ else, if we don’t invest everything we got, us little folks’ll never get close to the domain of the gods. Things like all-powerful weapons ain’t nothin’ but dreams,” Tsubaki concluded, voice low. The ravenous glint in her right eye was enough to shame even the nearby furnace.

It was the same glint Loki and the others had seen so many times in the eyes of adventurers like Aiz, who constantly aimed higher and higher.

The look of pride, a thirst for more, and the insatiable perseverance of a craftsman.

Tsubaki knew that if she didn’t bet everything, she’d never be able to forge a piece worthy of the gods, let alone one that surpassed them. It was something only she could know, having reached the highest pinnacle one could as a craftsman.

Tearing her gaze away from her creation, Tsubaki glanced over at Hephaistos and let out a bold peal of laughter.

Hephaistos slumped her shoulders with a sigh at her follower’s bald-faced aggression.

“That’s craftsmen for ya. Must be tough, Phai-Phai.”

“Mmn…At any rate, shall we return to the issue at hand?”

Steering the conversation back on track, the quartet moved on to sketching out the expedition.

“Is the plan to meet in front of Babel, then? And enter from there together?”

“Yes. Once inside the Dungeon, my team and I will do our best to protect the rest of the group. While this may need to change in emergency situations, for the most part all combat should be left to us.”

“We’ll help with half of the supplies. We’ve come this far already—might as well share the load.”

“Thanks, Phai-Phai. Appreciate it.”

The four of them ran through their respective final checklists before bringing the meeting to a close, and then Finn and Loki bid the others farewell and left the workshop behind them.

Preparations for Loki Familia’s expedition were well under way.

“Hey, uh…Miss Aiz? There was something I wanted to talk to you about!”

They were four days into their training, having just completed a rather strenuous practice bout atop the city walls.

It was just a bit before sunrise—their decided-upon time for wrapping things up—when Bell approached Aiz, considerably red-faced and flustered.

“It’s, uh, well…tomorrow, see? My supporter won’t be able to go to the Dungeon tomorrow because of issues with her lodging, so, uh…I was thinking maybe I wouldn’t go, either, so, uh…well…I was just thinking that…that maybe tomorrow we could…Instead of just in the morning…”

“…Train…all day?” Aiz finished for him.

“Y-yes!” Bell stuttered with boisterous nods of his head.

Aiz slid her sword back into her scabbard before letting her gaze travel skyward and quietly contemplating.

She was supposed to be training Lefiya then…but Lefiya and Aiz were part of the same familia. They could get together whenever they felt like it.

Plus, to be honest, Aiz wanted to spend more time with Bell to improve his combat skills.

The short time they had before the sun rose wasn’t enough.

Which was why, with a silent apology to Lefiya, Aiz agreed.

“Very well.”

That was the story Aiz personally relayed to Lefiya, apology included, and which was also the reason the elf wasn’t able to train with her today.

Three days remained until the expedition.

It was supposed to be Lefiya’s fourth day of training, as she was one day behind Bell.

But that morning found her walking despondently down the busy main street in a tremendously bad mood.

Her azure eyes sat almost entirely still in their sockets, and her normally graceful elven features exuded a kind of silent animosity. From the demi-humans engaged on the sidewalks to those she passed in the street, everyone averted their eyes.

She gripped her beloved staff tightly to her chest, resentment saturating her very being.

“He’s not even part of our faction…he’s not even part of our faction…he’s not even part of our faction…!”

Disgraceful! Shameless! I can’t believe it!

Each tear-choked condemnation muttered under her breath was directed at that boy.

The impudence of haggling for a full day of the Sword Princess all to himself. She could feel the anger building up inside her just thinking about it. Unable to raise an objection to Aiz, Lefiya’s blame was, instead, being launched at the boy in continuous tear-laced salvos. Is he really such an absolute nitwit?!

The path she currently trudged along was on North Main Street, not far from her familia’s home.

She was on her way to the Dungeon to do a bit of training on her own—what other choice did she have? The cerulean sky stretched odiously above her, shining down on the bustling cobblestones.

“—Viridis?”

It hit her ears just as her vision had practically darkened in rage.

The sound of her last name.

“Hmm?” She spun around to find a young elven girl standing a few steps behind her.

She had long jet-black hair reminiscent of a shrine maiden’s, and her eyes shone like a pair of scarlet rubies.

Snow-white battle gear enshrouded her slender figure all the way to her neck, topped with a short cape. Beside her, a golden-haired god waited patiently.

The sight of her made Lefiya stop short in surprise.

“Miss Filvis…” she muttered under her breath.

The girl in white, Filvis, wore a startled look of her own.

A Level 3 magic swordsman and the captain of Dionysus Familia, she’d fought beside Lefiya and the others on the front lines during the incident on the twenty-fourth floor some days ago.

This chance meeting brought both of them to a stop. As passersby jostled them on all sides, the regal blond god—Dionysus himself—opened his mouth to speak.

“This is the colleague you spoke of, Filvis? The Thousand Elf?”

“Y-yes, she is.”

Lefiya stood rooted to the spot. This was her first time meeting the god of Dionysus Familia in the flesh, and she found herself at a loss as to how to react.

Dionysus, however, just smiled, examining her with his glass-like eyes.

“I’ve heard so much about you from Filvis. Could I interest you in a cup of tea, perhaps? I’d been hoping to show you my appreciation.”

The three of them made their way to a bustling outdoor café on a small corner of North Main Street. From their round table facing the road, they were surrounded on all sides by the sounds of busy footsteps and lively voices.

“It’s my understanding that you looked after Filvis down on the twenty-fourth floor. I’d like to once again offer you my utmost gratitude. If it weren’t for you, I might have lost her, and for that, I am in your debt, Lefiya Viridis.”

“I-it is nothing, really. I’ve lost count of the number of times Filvis has saved me…”

Lefiya felt terribly obliged at Dionysus’s words of praise.

Dionysus had ordered them tea and fruit tarts. The sweet smell of pastries mixed with fresh red and blue berries was enough to make Lefiya’s mouth water.

“Loki would surely wring my neck if she heard this was how I thanked you,” the golden-haired god joked somewhat strangely.

Lefiya’s impression was that he was a most refined and sociable god.

At the same time, there was something inscrutable about him. In fact, those glass-like eyes of his seemed able to peer straight through to her soul. He was a kind of all-knowing, ever-prudent godly presence, and she could see why he had offered his ill-tempered evaluation of Loki as “a shrewd deity.”

Filvis sat in silence as the two of them conversed, having been forced to accompany them. She hadn’t touched her tea or the tarts and simply glanced back and forth between Lefiya and Dionysus.

“…I believe I have a solid grasp of what happened down there by this point, but I’m interested in hearing from others who took part. How do you feel about the events on the twenty-fourth floor?”

Their pleasantries finished, Dionysus’s face hardened.

Instinctively correcting her posture, Lefiya took a few moments to think through her response. While it was true Loki mostly thought of the other god as nothing more than a parasite of sorts, the two had been comparing notes more and more often since the Monsterphilia—or so she’d heard. There was no way Dionysus hadn’t already met with Loki regarding the recent events at that place in the Dungeon.

Thus, there would be no harm in talking to him. After judging that to be the case, Lefiya relayed her opinion as a firsthand witness.

“—Magic stones inside beings even the gods know nothing about? A crystal orb that can make monsters mutate? The whole thing…Just thinking about it makes my head hurt.”

Dionysus listened to Lefiya in silence before bringing his forehead to his palm with a heavy sigh.

As Filvis watched, those glass-like eyes of his came to meet Lefiya’s.

“Thanks to the information you and the others brought back, we’ve made progress in identifying the true identity of our enemy. A third power linked to the remnants of the Evils, the being referred to only as ‘Her’ by Olivas Act…Lefiya Viridis, I must tell you—the sense of imminent danger I feel is all too real.” He continued, hardened features suppressing his feelings. “Almost as though the very peace of this city itself is silently being eaten away from the inside out…”

Lefiya had heard from Filvis that a member of Dionysus Familia had been killed before the Monsterphilia. Remembering this, she listened quietly to Dionysus’s every word.

“Though the bulk of the responsibility may end up falling on Loki Familia, we, too, would like to do everything we can. You may come to us whenever you’re in need.”

“Th-thank you. Thank you so much.” Lefiya averted her gaze in response to the god’s offer.

The sounds from the bustling street enveloped them during the lapse between their words.

“Come to think of it, how are the preparations for your expedition coming along? I heard the lot of you will be on your way to the depths before long,” Dionysus said cheerfully, in perfect contrast to their previous topic as he brought his tea to his lips. He was catching furtive glances from the female customers around them.

There was something strange about his smile—a sickly sweet mask—that put Lefiya on edge. She responded carefully, deliberately leaving out the finer details of her familia’s goings-on.

“Things are progressing according to plan. We shall leave in three days.”

“Three days…” Dionysus murmured with a faint smile. “Filvis has been worried, you know. About you and the expedition.”

Lefiya and Filvis both gave a start.

“She’s been talking about you constantly since the incident on the twenty-fourth floor. More than she talks about herself, even.”

“M-Master Dionysus!” The elven girl in question rose from her chair, causing Lefiya’s eyes to widen in shock. With her voice caught in her throat, Filvis’s normally white cheeks flushed with pink, and her eyes looked everywhere except at Lefiya.

“This is the first time I’ve seen her let anyone affect her like this in quite some time. I would imagine you’re the type of person cats take to, yes?”

“Um…What exactly do you mean by…that?”

At Lefiya’s perplexed inquisition, Dionysus’s lips curled upward in a cheeky grin befitting a god.

“When Filvis first joined the familia, her fussiness was positively off-putting. So much that she wouldn’t let anyone get near. Quite like a cat, you see.”

“I am…not sure I understand what you’re saying. What does that have to do with the current situation?”

Dionysus seemed to be enjoying himself thoroughly, shoulders shaking in mirth. The way he ignored Filvis’s appeals as he revealed her past gave the impression of a mischievous child.

Even Lefiya couldn’t help chuckling to herself at Filvis’s panic.

Try as she might to suppress her emotions, she simply couldn’t keep it together under the stares of the other two.

Already her face was beaming a brilliant shade of red.

“Might I ask what your plans are for today?” Dionysus asked gently, his gaze soft as he took in the two elves.

“Today? I, uh…was planning on heading to the Dungeon for a bit of magic training.”

“I see…” Dionysus brought a hand to his slender chin. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, perhaps you could take Filvis with you?”

Lefiya and Filvis were taken by surprise once again.

“What do you think?”

“I-I suppose it would…be okay…” Lefiya murmured.

“W-wait just a minute, Master Dionysus!”

But even as Filvis raised an objection to Lefiya’s tentative consent, Dionysus interrupted her with an assurance of his own.

“Don’t worry about me. Go help her.”

“B-but I…”

“Don’t let me stop you from strengthening your bond with one of Loki’s people. In fact, I’ve already made it known that you should do everything in your power to cooperate with them. You wouldn’t go against the will of your god, would you?”

Cutting Filvis’s flustered protests short with a single smile, he turned his gaze to Lefiya.

“Lefiya Viridis, if it’s not too much to ask, I would hope that you and Filvis could get along. There’s a bit of a rift between her and the others in our familia.” With a hint of fatherly love in his eyes, he added: “I would love to see her smile again.”

With that, Dionysus rose from his chair.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he said before exiting the café and disappearing into the crowd.

The two elven girls were left alone at the table.

Their eyes met. Filvis’s lips parted in resignation.

“If…if it really isn’t too much trouble, I’ll join you,” she said, face red and eyes averted.

“…All right. We’ll go together.” Lefiya could feel her own face begin heating up at Filvis’s embarrassment. She cracked a sweet smile.

“…”

After parting with the elves, Dionysus was quiet as he made his way from the busy street to a small alley situated neatly in the crack between two buildings.

The narrow corridor was dim compared to the earlier brightness of the main street.

And for a moment, it was silent. Then…

“—What an adorable relationship those two have.”

The teasing, provocative voice of one of his fellow gods came from in front of him.

“Do you need something, Hermes?” Dionysus replied indifferently, almost as though he’d already been alerted to the other’s presence.

The owner of the voice emerged from the shadows to approach him.

A set of lightweight traveling attire graced his frame, and his orange eyes complemented his tangerine hair.

The finespun gentleman with eyes as sharp as arrows raised the brim of his winged hat and gave a laugh.

“How goes it, Dionysus?”

Dionysus’s eyes narrowed at the simpering god as his masklike smile came into focus.

It had been Hermes’s gaze on his back that led him to hand off Filvis. An honest girl like her would only get in the way as he attempted to wheedle out his fellow god’s true intentions.

You couldn’t let your guard down around Hermes.

He’d come to inherit a sort of shrewd handyman-type presence among the other gods, and he had no qualms about dealing with all manner of clients—a fact that was particularly apparent at this moment.

Hermes’s smile deepened, the gloom of the back alleyway crowning his head.

“I merely wanted to talk. You’re free at the moment, aren’t you?”

“So you accost me in an alley? A fine place for an ordinary little chat.”

“Now, now, no need to raise your hackles.” Hermes raised his hands in harmless insistence.

Dionysus just snorted. Everything about the overly theatrical god was suspicious.

“Don’t tell me you’re Ouranos’s little dog now. You done with Zeus? You can’t have expected that I didn’t notice you and that old fossil colluding together.”

“You’re quite mistaken, I assure you. I’m just the middleman.”

“Oh, give me a break! I hardly trust either of you,” Dionysus retorted, considerably harsher than normal.

Hermes hunched his shoulders.

“Let’s start with the Monsterphilia, hmm? What exactly are Ouranos and the others hiding? If you’re so intent on gaining my trust, you had better start talking.”

“Hiding? What could they possibly be hiding? And if they are, I’d be first in line to want to know,” Hermes replied airily, his grin never faltering.

“Then we’ve nothing to talk about,” Dionysus finished with a cold glare and turned on his heels.

“Whoa, whoa, whoooooa! Stop for a moment and just listen to me, would you, Dionysus?” Hermes dashed forward to stop Dionysus in his tracks, then gently wrap his arm around the other god’s shoulder. He brought their faces together.

“I lost children myself down on the twenty-fourth floor. I’m just as much a victim here as you! If there really is something happening in Orario…then you can bet I’ll do everything in my power to find out.”

“…”

“Come now. As fellow gods from the heavens, you’ll tolerate a bit of idle chatter for me, won’t you?” Hermes’s orange eyes narrowed slightly as they peered into Dionysus’s clear ones. His voice lowered to barely a whisper. “In fact, I’ve prepared us some grape wine just for the occasion. Who knows…? Maybe my own lips will loosen after a bit of savory drink.”

“…I’m very particular about my grape wine, you know.”

Both their mouths curled up into identical crescent moons.

“…Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.”

“…Heh-heh-heh-heh.”

The two gods exchanged laughter darker than the shadows in the alley.

Then they took off down the road, arms around each other’s shoulders, before disappearing into the gloom.

“Talk about ominous…”

A dejected mutter could be heard above the two deities.

A female figure squatted atop the buildings above the alleyway—the chienthrope thief and member of Hermes Familia, Lulune.

Beside the girl, whose dog tail hung low with apparent exhaustion, was a beauty with aqua-blue hair framing her silver glasses.

The edges of Asfi Al Andromeda’s white cloak fluttered in the breeze.

She was not only Lulune’s captain but also the worldliest member of the entire Hermes Familia.

Witnessing the almost sinister back-and-forth that had taken place below them just a moment before, she could only offer a sigh.

“Their hearts are as black as you can get…C’mon, Asfi. Can’t we just go home?”

“…No. We keep on.” Asfi responded to her colleague’s appeal with a tired slump of her eyelids. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

Then the two girls tasked with keeping an eye on their god stealthily followed in Hermes’s and Dionysus’s footsteps.

“Just who does that human think he is?!” Lefiya said, voice sharp as a thorn, as the two elves bathed in the phosphorescent light of the Dungeon’s mazelike walls. They were on the Dungeon’s fifth floor. Shortly after parting with Dionysus, they had set out on their way to the upper levels for Lefiya’s magic training, as planned.

As the two of them passed by one lower-class party after another, Lefiya relayed every one of her pent-up grievances about the human Bell to her fellow elf.

Filvis, upon grasping the situation, couldn’t resist shooting her disgruntled comrade a wry smile. “This reminds me of my own familia. We had someone like Aiz, too, who was always taking care of the other members. You should have seen the fights I used to have with my friend over her…” A hint of nostalgia tinged her voice, her gaze pointed forward.

The wistfulness coloring Filvis’s features, marbled with just a bit of sadness, was enough to bring Lefiya’s tirade to a halt.

An older member of her familia…A friend she used to constantly argue with…Could she have lost those companions during the Twenty-Seventh-Floor Nightmare? The tragic event that had stolen so many lives?

Lefiya was silent for a moment; then, in a deliberately boisterous voice, she began her diatribe anew, going on first about Aiz and the others, and then about the boy and his many faults. She wouldn’t allow her kin to succumb to her grief.

Filvis responded with a smile, her deep-red eyes crinkling.

“Right, then. It was Concurrent Casting you were practicing, was it?”

“Indeed! I attempted to chant while Aiz attacked me…”

Lefiya and Filvis approached the center of the room—the place in the western part of the Dungeon’s fifth floor that Lefiya had grown so used to these past few days—before the two faced each other.

Filvis’s slender chin tucked inward in contemplation as she listened to Lefiya recount her training.

“In my role as captain, I often make use of Concurrent Casting. Mastering it would indeed be of great value to you…”

As a magic swordswoman, Filvis occupied the role of High Balancer, an elite position in the center of formations, where something like Concurrent Casting was virtually a requirement. In fact, when it came to frequency of use, Filvis topped even Riveria. That she just so happened to be Aiz’s replacement in today’s training session was quite a lucky coincidence for Lefiya.

Even as Filvis stood there looking mildly troubled, Lefiya knew she had to have her as her teacher.

“If you have even the briefest word of advice you could give me—a trick, perhaps. Something that could give me an advantage…”

“A trick? But aren’t you studying under Riveria? Mixing her instructions with mine could very well lead to confusion…”

There was no one Filvis respected more than Riveria, the greatest magic user in Orario and, moreover, a high elf. She was probably afraid anything she might tell Lefiya would clash with Riveria’s teachings.

She was silent a moment. Then, finally, she gave a little nod, as though reaching a decision.

“I’ve never trained anyone before, so I’ve no confidence when it comes to giving instruction…” Filvis’s eyes rose to meet Lefiya’s. “But perhaps you’ll let me speak as a fellow magic user. Viridis, throw aside attacking and defending.”

“What?!”

“Mages aren’t naturally inclined toward hand-to-hand combat. Superficial attack and defense will only lead to failure, like sharpening a dull, damaged sword for reuse. You must, instead, devote yourself fully to pure evasion. Divert your attention for nothing but the casting of your spell.”

There were four main elements to keep in mind when attempting to chant concurrently during a battle: attacking (and defending), moving, evading, and chanting. What Filvis was telling her now, however, was to forget about the first element. To give up on trying to attack and defend.

Truth be told, chanting was the only element that mattered for pure magic users fighting as the rear guard. As a magic swordswoman who’d struggled her way through the front lines of battle, Filvis spoke from experience when she explained that sloppy hand-to-hand combat could lead to more than a simple magic misfire—it could lead to a magic self-detonation.

When you were trapped, just evade, evade, and evade some more.

“Concurrent Casting is supposed to be easier for those on the front lines to learn. Magic users in the rear guard, valued for their firepower capable of changing the tides of battle, must begin by mastering their technique above all else. Keep in mind that magic power encompasses more than simply the strength of your spell.”

Adventurers on the front line needed to be constantly moving, engaged in a sort of sword dance and prepared to tackle even the most unforeseen of circumstances. After that, all that was left to do was throw one new element into the mix—chanting, for instance. This made it much easier for them to not only learn Concurrent Casting but to master it. And that wasn’t even going into their magic output, which was remarkably low—a desirable trait when one’s magic output was like a bomb waiting to go off.

And so they would freely alternate between attacking and defending, all the while hurling their spells.

That was the typical image of Concurrent Casting. It was a world that belonged to those on the front line, magic swordsmen like Filvis, and—

“This is something you shouldn’t try to imitate,” Filvis warned.

That makes sense…Lefiya thought.

It was true that in her practice battles with Aiz, her chants had failed more than once when she was trying to defend herself. Her priorities had been out of order, focused on the wrong element.

There would, of course, be attacks she wouldn’t be able to evade, but she needed to drill into her mind that moving and dodging needed to command her full focus.

“Becoming a mobile artillery battery may be every magic user’s dream…but for most, it’s a luxurious fantasy.”

Taking out enemies on the front lines like Filvis, loosing powerful spells one after the other—there were few aside from Riveria, the strongest magic user in all of Orario, who were able to accomplish such a task.

The first thing rearguard magic users like Lefiya needed to prioritize was invoking magic at all—as her fellow elf so eloquently explained.

“Now then, there’s no point talking if we aren’t going to put it into practice. Shall we begin?” Filvis pulled out her wooden wand.

Lefiya readied her own staff in response. “A-all right! I’m ready!”

Thus, Lefiya’s Concurrent Casting training began anew, only this time with Filvis instead of Aiz.

“I know I said to toss aside all defensive maneuvers, but you should keep a minimum level of personal defense—blocking my attacks, for instance.”

“R-right!”

Brandishing her nonlethal wand as opposed to her usual sword, Filvis began chanting.

She came at Lefiya with sharp movements, quickly eliminating the space between them, and Lefiya shifted her focus to ward off each incoming attack, using every bit of staff technique that Riveria had hammered into her.

“Radically short chants like mine unleash a surge of magic power, and they must be invoked without pause, but there’s more to it than just short and long chants.”

“…!”

“Don’t rush in without thinking. No premature loading of magic power into your spells. Wait until the chant’s second half rolls around before letting it go.”

“I understand!”

Filvis’s theory was right on the money—Lefiya received more and more signs that she needed to place greater emphasis on when and how she used her magic power, as well as how she wove her spells.

It also helped that Filvis could control her attacks far better than Aiz.

Though the strikes of her wand were relentless, peppering Lefiya as she dashed about wildly, none of them were overly ruthless, and they always led directly into her next move. It was almost like she was the conductor of some symphony, each wave of her baton indicating where her next spell would land.

Their spells were the music, and the footsteps became a dance.

Like a pair of forest fairies, hands entwined in the meadow, they danced gracefully as one led and the other followed. They formed a studied waltz beneath the phosphorescent light of a secluded nook in the Dungeon.

This time for sure…!

Lefiya regained her footing after her last failed attempt at chanting, pure power building up behind her eyes.

The steps of the dance brought her nimbly across the floor, her lips weaving together the words to her next song—and something responded deep inside her. She managed a considerably longer chant than she had the first time around.

Still, if she had to be completely honest, Filvis’s attacks couldn’t live up to Aiz’s.

Compared to the lightning-fast strikes of the Sword Princess, which were practically invisible to the naked eye, Filvis’s wand was clear as day.

Which was exactly why Lefiya had more breathing room.

“Loose your arrows, fairy archers. Pierce, arrow of accuracy—Arcs Ray!”

It was during their twentieth spar when Lefiya was finally able to let off a spell, properly using Concurrent Casting.

The completed missile of her Arcs Ray flew from the tip of her staff.

The beam of light shrieked past Filvis with a high-pitched screech, the elf jumping aside to avoid it, and crashed into the Dungeon wall to leave behind a crack.

“I…I did it!” Lefiya muttered in awe, her breath labored.

She’d been able to cast a spell.

Hugging her staff to her chest, her face broke into a grin of pure joy.

Of course, the spell she’d managed to cast didn’t even begin to approach the power of what she could do with both feet firmly rooted to the ground. With her magic power suppressed just to pull it off, her Arcs Ray had done barely more damage to the far wall than a sword could achieve with a few slashes.

Filvis’s slower attacks had to be taken into consideration, as well. In her current state, Lefiya wasn’t able to accomplish something like this against monsters in a real fight—the kind she’d face in the Dungeon depths.

But none of that mattered to Lefiya. The results she had produced today were big.

The fact that she’d been able to concurrently cast even one spell in battle was enough to plant a seed of confidence deep down inside her chest.

All the training she’d received from Riveria, even the lessons she had with Aiz—all of it led her to this point, and the pure exhilaration pumping in her veins was enough to set her cheeks ablaze.

“A flawless chant. Don’t forget that feeling,” Filvis commended her.

“I won’t! Thank you so, so much!”

A song had been infused into her dance. Lefiya was so happy, it felt like she would burst.

Watching the girl from the corner of her eye, Filvis wasted no time moving on.

“Shall we turn things up a notch, then?”

“Wh-what?!”

“Wait here a moment, would you?” she asked before turning on her heels toward the exit.

Lefiya cocked her head in total confusion as Filvis vanished down the passageway, leaving her completely alone. She had no other choice but to wait as Filvis had requested.

It didn’t take much longer for the sounds of monsters falling to echo off the Dungeon walls. Ten of them, to be exact.

And then, five minutes later, she heard it.

“Wh-what on earth…?”

The ground shuddered beneath her, followed by the repeated croaking of a great many frogs.

Closer and closer, the quakes and monster cries approached. Then—

From the entryway emerged Filvis—dragging behind her what appeared to be an entire horde of monsters.

“?!”

“Time for round two, Viridis. Only this time, it won’t be me you’re fighting.”

Filvis dashed past the still-in-shock Lefiya, leaving the croaking mass of reptilian frog shooters nowhere to leap except straight at the less experienced elf.

“EH, EHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH?!”

—A pass parade?!

The teeming throng of some twenty monsters leaped at Lefiya en masse. She simply turned around and ran.

The frog shooters cared nothing about her sheer terror and followed behind her in a swarm.

“You’re not to lay a finger on those monsters, Viridis!”

“What?!”

“Use your magic! You can only kill them with a concurrently chanted spell!”

Filvis’s instructions brought Lefiya to a halt—she’d been fully prepared to go hog wild on the lot of them, fighting off the Level 1 creepy-crawlies with her staff.

“You and I both know the monsters on this floor can’t do you any real damage. Perfect for a bit of Concurrent Casting practice, no? I used to do this sort of thing all the time before I mastered the skill,” Filvis called out from her spot a considerable distance away.

What are you, a teacher from hell?! Lefiya wanted to scream, but even she could understand where Filvis was coming from. Quickly, she began chanting a spell.

The frog shooters drew near, forming a menacing circle around Lefiya as she focused solely on evading, rather than countering, their incoming attacks. Just because the frogs were barely stronger than low-level monsters like goblins and kobolds, that didn’t mean she could fend off a relentless swarm of them coming at her from all sides.

“Loose your arrows, fairy archers. Pierce, arrow of—Nngah!”

One of the giant, single-eyed beasts lashed out a tongue from its mouth and landed a direct hit on Lefiya’s face, cutting her chant short.

Wet, sticky saliva coated her cheeks. It was just as Filvis had said—the attack didn’t do much damage, but their long-range capabilities certainly didn’t make the fight any easier.

“Take it up a notch” is right!

Not only did she have more enemies to deal with, she also had to guard herself against ranged attacks from farther away.

There couldn’t possibly be a more suitable enemy in the whole Dungeon for mastering Concurrent Casting.

“Proud warriors, marksmen of the forest…” Lefiya began, doing her best to ward off both the body slams and the tongue slaps from her surrounding foes.

“Take up your bows to face the marauders. Answer the call of your kin, nock your arrows…” she continued, injecting fire into her words even as the blows rained down and sweat dribbled off her.

Casting her field of vision wide, Lefiya dedicated just enough focus to moving and dodging. She was the unshakable tree.

Everything she’d learned from Aiz, Riveria, and Filvis—it was all strung together, everything reflected in the way she moved.

“Bring forth the flames, torches of the forest. Release them, flaming arrows of the fairies—”

Again and again, her spell was interrupted, and the chant failed. But still, she didn’t give up.

She wouldn’t allow herself to give in.

“Fall like rain, burn the savages to ash…”

In her eyes she could see the girl she longed to become, standing atop the ledge of success.

And she could feel the boy—probably giving it his all at that very moment even as he ran himself ragged and the metallic taste of blood invaded his mouth.

I won’t lose to him.

Determination coursing through her veins, her body set alight with sheer, fiery willpower, Lefiya loosed a mighty roar.

“—Fusillade Fallarica!”

She completed her spell.

Dodging incoming body slams, parrying the multitude of tongues flying at her, Lefiya jumped back as a brilliant, golden magic circle formed beneath her feet. Then a barrage of flaming arrows rained down on the teeming mass of frog shooters.

The frog shooters’ skin and bulbous single eyes glowed a brilliant red before the raging magic storm swallowed them.

Everything within the spell’s large blast area erupted in flaming agony, followed by the roar of tens of hundreds of explosive blasts.

“…”

Filvis, who’d been fending off additional incoming enemies to prevent them from interfering, narrowed her eyes at the spectacle. She said nothing.

Lefiya stood authoritatively amid the embers, char, and residual magic, her staff clenched in both hands as she inhaled and exhaled.

“It seems you’re getting the hang of it” were Filvis’s first words as she started toward Lefiya.

The frog shooters decimated, a breath of calm had settled upon the room.

“Th-thank you so much! It is only thanks to your help that I was—”

“Oh, please. The foundation was there long before I happened by. This is nothing but a result of your own hard work.”

Still gripping the staff, Lefiya felt her cheeks grow warm from hearing the friendly words of praise. The things Aiz and the others taught her had finally started to take root. Not only was she being commended, it felt like her mentors were, too, and the thought manifested as a mixture of pride and happiness bubbling up inside her.

Filvis’s eyes softened as she noticed Lefiya’s bashfully downturned gaze. Remembering her exhausted reserves of magic power—and the fatigue that would come with it—she invited her onetime pupil to take a seat on the ground.

The two faced each other in the center of the room, shoulders relaxed.

“But it is true, Miss Filvis. Your instruction was so easy for me to understand. Even I felt like things would turn out well in the end. Don’t you think you have a natural gift as a teacher?” Lefiya continued, refusing to let the topic die.

“…It was a happy accident. I have no talent when it comes to guiding others,” Filvis retorted curtly, though her brusqueness was more a side effect of her embarrassment than a cold refusal. She closed her eyes.

Lefiya couldn’t resist a small smile, seeing the pink that tinged the other elf’s sullen features.

Though she’d already sensed it before their training began, the two of them really were growing closer.

The cold distance between them at their first meeting had all but evaporated.

Exchanging thoughts, feelings, making it through the fight on the twenty-fourth floor together—their hearts and minds had never been more closely bound.

Perhaps it was as Dionysus had described, and Filvis had let Lefiya into her heart.

The thought made Lefiya incredibly happy.

But she couldn’t help the little voice inside her craving more.

A desire that only Filvis could fulfill.

“I, uh…Miss Filvis?” Lefiya began as her cheeks reddened, drawing the gaze of her fellow elf.

“What is it, Viridis?”

“I was wondering if…perhaps…you could call me Lefiya from now on?”

Filvis froze. Then she, too, turned a brilliant shade of red.

An awkward silence passed over them as Filvis faltered, the true meaning behind Lefiya’s request sinking in.

“I-I can’t.”

“Oh, please!”

“I said it’s not possible!”

“I am begging you!”

“Stop hounding me!”

“I shall hound all I like!”

The pair were practically shouting at each other, their faces flushed.

Filvis found herself overwhelmed by Lefiya’s request, her body pressed forward and her voice shrill.

Finally, she turned away, averting her gaze.

Upon seeing this, Lefiya realized she might have gone too far and quickly reined herself in.

Filvis still refused to meet her eyes. Her lips parted once, twice, and then, in the tiniest of frail voices, so soft it was hardly even there—

“—L-Lefiya…”

Her entire profile was dyed a vivid, radiant crimson all the way to the tips of her elven ears.

Hearing her name, Lefiya felt her face grow steadily brighter, until it practically sparkled, and she let out a jubilant “Thank you!” A gratified smile was plastered across her face.

Filvis still refused to lift her head, which elicited a mirthful giggle from the other girl as happiness flooded through her.

The two elves, different though they were, sat there in comfortable companionship, the walls of the Dungeon all but forgotten.

“Can I…ask you something?” Filvis asked.

“Hmm? What is it?”

“You…truly plan on joining the expedition, don’t you?”

A lull settled over them as Filvis finally returned to her usual self.

The expedition she referred to was, of course, the upcoming Loki Familia expedition.

“…Yes. I’ll head for the Dungeon’s uncharted depths with Aiz and the others.”

The journey would take place in a mere three days’ time.

Riveria and Finn had told her directly that she’d be joining the main party aiming to reach the fifty-ninth floor—they’d need the combined forces of the entire faction to take on this venture into the Dungeon. She’d act as both a sort of stalwart fortress and rearguard assistant to Aiz and the other first-tier adventurers.

Hearing this, Filvis averted her gaze, ruby eyes pointed toward the ground.

“Ah…” came the single word from between her thin lips.

She was quiet for a moment, a glimmer of anguish leaving a trace on her features, as though she were desperately trying to keep her feelings sealed inside.

As Lefiya watched, her eyes finally cracked open.

“You are able to re-create…summon the magic of other elves, yes?”

“Huh? I, uh…Yes.”

Filvis rose to her feet, looking down at Lefiya.

Lefiya responded instinctively with a nod of her own. Even her alias, Thousand Elf, had its origins in this technique—the Summon Burst.

“If it’s not too much trouble, could you tell me the requirements?” Filvis requested.

Lefiya pushed herself to her feet. She was hesitant at first—her magic was supposed to be kept secret, after all—but ultimately, she trusted Filvis, and she began explaining it.

The magic-summoning technique, Elf Ring.

It was limited to elven magic, and it required a two-part chant and an expenditure of Mind to perform. As far as requirements went, it was necessary to have a complete understanding of the desired magic’s effects, as well as the proper chant.

Filvis took it all in with a light nod and then began walking.

She stopped an adequate distance away before bringing out a white magic circle and casting a spell.

“Shield me, cleansing chalice—”

Lefiya’s eyes widened as Filvis conjured her magic almost instantaneously.

“—Dio Grail!” Her voice was loud, piercing as she invoked the spell, and with it came a brilliant flash of light that illuminated the space around her.

It was a pure-white barrier, almost like a symbol of the elf’s inner spirit and sublimity.

Despite the minimal magic power she’d used, it boasted a radius of over five meders and was accompanied by a flurry of sparks.

It was the same holy radiance that had protected Lefiya and the others down on the twenty-fourth floor, and Lefiya found herself entranced by the beautiful white light for a good number of seconds. The evil-vanquishing shield seared itself into her eyes.

“Miss Filvis, what was…that spell?” she finally asked, dumbfounded, as her fellow elf released the spell.

Filvis lowered her arm before slowly turning around.

“Dio Grail, an ultrashort barrier spell. It protects the caster and their companions from all variety of physical and magical attacks. A magic shield that can drive away evil, cast out demons, and protect what’s important.”

Filvis explained both the magic’s effects and the words of the chant with a soft smile.

“I’m entrusting you with this spell, Lefiya, so…come back alive.”

Lefiya felt her eyes well up with tears at seeing the snow-white elf’s smile.

“I will!” she responded with a teary smile of her own. Filvis’s kindness and protective strength suffused her.

Blue eyes met red ones as the two elves looked at each other with camaraderie and understanding.

On that day, Lefiya not only took a great leap forward on her path to mastering Concurrent Casting, but she also gained a new spell—Filvis’s Dio Grail.

“Nngah!”

A scream and a thud.

A head resting on a pair of soft thighs.

“Nngoh!”

A second scream. Another impact.

Again, a lap pillow.

“Nnguh!”

Again and again he was robbed of his consciousness.

Again and again, Aiz’s lap.

“Gaargh!”

The blue sky swallowed the boy’s screams.

It was a gorgeous day. The midday sunlight poured down across the hustle and bustle of the massive city, its warm, enveloping glow extending all the way to the two atop the city walls.

Aiz ran her fingers through Bell’s bangs as he slept peacefully atop her lap, her gaze turned blankly toward the sky. Around her drifted tiny echoes from the busy streets far below.

Her golden eyes narrowed softly amid the wonderfully glorious weather.

It seems I can’t control my own strength, after all…

Her eyes wandered before returning to the boy, his eyes still closed. Inside, she could feel her heart sink.

It was the fifth day of their training, leaving only three days before the expedition.

Bell had asked if she could train him for a full day, so Aiz had been doing nothing but engaging him in practice duels since early morning. She was giving it her all, instructing him relentlessly just as Lefiya and Filvis were having their own crash course within the Dungeon.

And yet, try as she might, things hadn’t progressed as smoothly as she’d hoped—the number of times Bell had been knocked out was evidence enough of that.

“I can’t do it. I’m not like Finn and the others…” Aiz muttered under her breath, shoulders slumping.

Not only was she failing Bell, she was letting Lefiya down as well, having broken their promise to train for the day. She felt hopeless, as though she couldn’t face either of them.

The scabbard of her trusted sword, Desperate, lay next to her on the rocks, swathed in a brilliant sheen of sunlight.

And yet…

She felt like she finally understood the meaning behind the smiles Finn and the others had shown her during the training sessions in her past.

Striking her down, lifting her up.

Striking her down, making her shine.

Shaping a person the same way a smith would temper a sword…Slowly changing them into a new form before polishing them.

Perhaps there was joy to be had in that, something only teachers could understand.

Even Aiz could understand that emotion thanks to the boy’s swift, palpable growth…or so she felt.

She looked down at the white rabbit running so earnestly up the mountain, determined to reach its peak, never resting or dozing, and before she knew it, she was smiling.

Instinctively, she reached a hand out to run her fingers through his white bangs.

“…”

She waited, and finally, ever so slowly, Bell’s eyes fluttered open.

His rubellite eyes stared blankly up at the sky spreading out overhead.

Still a bit dazed, no doubt, from just having woken up, he simply lay atop her thighs…until Aiz abruptly, earnestly—

—dropped her head forward to peer down at his face.

“Are you all right?”

“…Bwah?!”

Seeing Aiz’s face suddenly pop into his field of vision, the boy let out a (maybe slightly delayed) yelp of surprise.

He stumbled off Aiz’s pliant thighs and shot to his feet before turning around, cheeks burning.

This wasn’t the first time he’d woken up like this. Aiz had been doing the same thing every time he lost consciousness since their second-day practice sessions.

While it had its origins in the whole Mind Down incident, now it had become almost natural.

She certainly didn’t want to just leave him there on the cold stone while he was out of commission—and besides, it felt pretty good.

It was a relaxing, calming way to release tension and unwind. A gentle, comforting respite between sword fights where Aiz could rediscover that something she’d forgotten so long ago.

Her eyes followed Bell curiously as he stood by fretting—perhaps he was upset—before giving her thighs a soft, inviting pat, seemingly urging him not to get to his feet so quickly.

This only made Bell shake his head fervently.

“You’re sure you’re all right?”

“…Yes.”

Aiz beckoned the frozen boy again, and he took a seat beside her. She glanced over to see him with his head turned, looking in any direction but hers. He pressed his back against the parapet behind him, then pulled away, then pressed against it again, his cheeks still flushed.

Allowing herself a short break, Aiz circled her arms around her knees, close enough that her shoulder was just touching Bell’s. She couldn’t help the twinge of worry directed at the boy.

“Do, uh…Do you think I’m…getting any better?” he said.

“…Why do you ask?”

“It’s, well, I mean…Lately I, uh…keep getting knocked out, so…” he started as though readying himself, his gaze still fixed forward.

While it might have been a bit shallow of her, Aiz couldn’t help the little spark of happy surprise that blinked in the back of her head—the number of times Bell had brought up something not directly related to their training was so low she could count it on one hand.

The corners of her mouth trembled slightly, eyes never leaving him as she responded candidly.

“You’re growing. Really…To a surprising degree.”

“U-um…but…”

“The reason you keep getting knocked out is probably my own fault…I keep mistaking the amount of power I should use.”

“That—! It’s not—! You shouldn’t think that!”

Even as Aiz said it, she could feel her mood sink. Her eyelids drooped with a slow, quiet sadness. Bell turned toward her with a jerk, hurriedly refuting her reasoning.

Even as her shoulders gave the smallest of slumps, Aiz realized she’d come to understand something lately.

Bell Cranell was just a boy.

He grew flustered when something went wrong, became dispirited when he was sad, felt ashamed when something was embarrassing, and was simply joyful, cheeks red and smiling, when good happened.

Sincere, straightforward, occasionally showing off, and always pushing himself past his limits.

A child so surprisingly common he barely fit the mold of other adventurers with their desires for wealth and fame, their dreams and ambitions.

And even if the stuff on the inside—his heart, mind, or spirit—was wrong, his body, his physical abilities weren’t those of an adventurer, either. They weren’t even those of the heroes he admired.

Even now, as the kind and good-natured Bell attempted to dispel her melancholia, he was still just a boy.

“…”

As charming as she found that fact, she also found it very strange.

Why was it that someone like him, a person so far from what most adventurers were made of, could have achieved such dramatic growth?

Aiz herself was easy enough to understand.

Pressured by the boy’s growth, her training grew stricter and harsher with every passing day.

Even considering the rate at which he kept losing consciousness, the extent of his remarkable growth made it difficult for her to hold back.

Bell was racing forward at a speed that more than made up for the inefficiency of her training regimen.

Which brought Aiz back full circle to why she’d considered training him in the first place.

It was all to understand his secret. She hadn’t discovered even the faintest clue about the path to a new peak that she yearned for.

The true nature of the growth so contradictory to his character. Aiz questioned it more and more every time she got closer to him.

She paused for a moment, the doubts piling up in her mind, before finally letting her lips part with a tremble.

“…Can I…ask you something?”

“Huh?”

She gazed straight into Bell’s face.

And then she asked, with an expression more serious than she herself could ever remember displaying, “Why is it you’re able to grow so strong so quickly?”

“Strong…?”

Aiz, who had trouble putting even the simplest of things into words, poured everything into that question

It made Bell stop short in bewilderment, almost as though such a question had absolutely nothing to do with him.

Aiz herself knew it was a long shot, but she fervently wanted to ask it.

As though that need had gotten through to the flustered Bell, his brows furrowed in intense concentration as he seriously thought it over.

At long last, he began to talk.

“…Well, there’s someone I’m trying to catch up with, no matter what it takes. And…somehow in all that running…I ended up here…” He threw a glance at Aiz, his cheeks reddening as he incoherently expressed his thoughts.

“…I guess…I have a goal in mind…that I have to accomplish at all costs.”

Aiz’s golden eyes widened.

Deep down inside, she felt the words of the oath she had made in the past burn in her heart before quickly growing cold.

Her golden gaze met his rubellite eyes momentarily, then she silently looked skyward.

“I see…” Her eyes took in the blue of the overarching sky as she wrapped her arms lightly around her knees.

The breeze combed through her long golden hair.

“…I understand.” As the cerulean sky reflected in her eyes, the words fell from her lips.

It might not have been the answer she wanted, but it was an answer she could understand.

He’d told her that not too long ago, hadn’t he? That he, too, had an objective.

Just like her.

A goal that she had to accomplish at all costs. A far-off height that she needed to reach.

“Me too…”

—I have a wish.

The words that slipped from her mouth disappeared in an instant, swallowed up by the sound of the wind as her eyes remained fixated on that blue expanse of sky.

It was a cold wind, blowing strong from the west.

The same rush of air a swordswoman like Aiz was so used to hearing.

She sat there motionless, the wind playing with her hair as she stared up into that great big sky as though it were liable to swallow her whole.

“I-I, uh…” Bell began.

“?”

“I…Never mind. It’s nothing…”

Even as Aiz curiously tilted her head to the side, Bell tucked whatever he had planned to say back deep within his chest.

Aiz was incredulous, but she didn’t pry and let her eyelids close instead.

She had a hunch that not even Bell himself was aware of his own improvement.

From what she had gathered—from what she had no choice but to gather—all Bell was doing was racing forward as fast as his legs would take him.

She knew all too well that those rubellite eyes of his couldn’t lie or swindle or hide things.

He told the truth in its entirety, a fact that should have left her wallowing in her own misery. Instead, however, a smile rose to her lips.

…Such nice weather.

As her conversation with Bell ground to a halt, her eyes crinkled at the warm sun pouring down on them.

The sky was so blue today, tiny white cirrocumulus clouds swimming freely in the clear expanse.

From the city’s eastern district came the echoing sound of the noontime bell, the clear ringing joining the pleasant sunlight wrapping around them.

“Mmn…”

At that moment…

A tiny murmur escaped from Aiz’s petite lips.

She instantly flung a hand to her mouth, but it was too late.

The warm, sunny weather had enticed a yawn from her.

“…?” Right next to her, Bell noticed and turned to her with a start. His expression was a mixture of curiosity and surprise.

Aiz returned her hand to her side, recomposing herself as if nothing had happened.

Uh-oh…

But even as she did, her heart silently muttered.

I’m…I’m sleepy…

In the midst of all that warm, wonderful sun, Aiz’s eyelids were fighting a losing battle.

Waking up before sunrise to train Bell and then training Lefiya in Concurrent Casting until the evening hours—she felt like she’d done nothing but eat, sleep, and train for the last five days with not even a moment’s rest. Even the time she spent asleep was shaved down as much as possible.

And now this sunlight, so warm, so narcotic, had become her worst enemy.

Apparently even first-tier adventurers could still succumb to this type of fiendish weather.

How long would she be able to keep this up? This unmoving gaze of rigidity? Her normal, static features so devoid of emotion?

She’d been working so hard these last couple of days, and the lethargy tugging at her entire being was all too real.

“Perhaps we should…practice our napping skills.”

“Huh?”

It was out before she even realized it.

Her mouth was running away from her.

“You need to be able to sleep anywhere, you know. Even way down there in the Dungeon.”

“…”

“It’s an essential skill. A quick way to restore your stamina.”

Still her mouth continued to run.

Aiz refused to look at him, her eyes pointed straight ahead as she talked, but she could feel his gaze on the side of her face, questioning, no doubt confused.

She was making things up and she knew it, but as much as she was sweating on the inside, it was too late to backtrack. So she emphasized the importance of it all the more, this “sleep training,” as she called it.

There was a chance he might believe it, naive as he was, and Aiz held onto that tiny sliver of hope.

“Are you…by any chance…sleepy, Miss Aiz?”

Nope.

He’d seen through her so easily. She could feel the heat building in her cheeks.

“—It’s training.” Aiz turned her head toward Bell with an almost audible snap.

“R-right.”

Bell found himself unable to keep from nodding at the kind of sheer force only a first-tier adventurer could possess, a tiny trickle of sweat forming beneath his temple.

And as they sat there, staring at each other, eyebrows raised, their cheeks turned a brilliant shade of red.

“So…uh…we sleep…here?”

“Yes,” she replied in a hurry, thanks to her embarrassment.

She gave a terse nod before lying flat on the stone floor with a tiny thump.

Just about ready to give herself over to the drowsiness that had so suddenly overcome her being, she caught a glance of Bell next to her, motionless.

“What’s wrong? Can’t you sleep?”

“N…no, I can’t…”

She was on her side, and he lay down next to her on his back.

Throwing a glance over at Aiz only to have their eyes meet, he hurriedly returned his gaze to the sky.

Already on the verge of sleep, she watched as he squeezed his eyes closed in a forced effort to make himself sleep before quietly letting her own eyelids fall.

Slowly, slowly, her consciousness drifted off to sleep.

She could hear someone. A voice was reading a story.

It was a tale she knew by heart. One she’d heard time and again.

It delighted her no matter how many times she listened.

Her mother’s voice was soft like the wind, steeped in love, affection overflowing as she recited the words.

Her father’s voice was loud, clumsy as he laughed, his kind eyes watching over both of them.

This was her favorite time. When the three of them could share: her mother, her father, and her—Aiz.

When she raised her eyes from the words of the story, she was met by the most wonderful sight.

Everyone she loved, a whole room of people, had joined her mother and father, all of them smiling, all of them laughing.

A beautiful, compassionate high elf, an adult prum the very same size as her, a dwarf with his great big mouth open, laughing heartily.

And so many more. Animal people, Amazons, and humans alike surrounded Aiz and her family.

Aiz felt her cheeks turn pink with warmth, and she stood on her tiptoes, hands waving as she grinned broadly.

Such a tender moment. An irreplaceable bond. A precious place.

But in a single moment, everything changed.

A black cloud formed beneath their feet.

From a giant rift in the floor came the oozing black nightmare, swallowing up the world once so filled with light.

So black, so black, so black, the shadowy blob canceled out every bit of light.

In the midst of all that darkness, Aiz could only watch, speechless, as her father walked away.

Armor shrouded in a thin black scarf. A long silver sword.

Her father held that gleaming silver blade in his hand as he faced the writhing shadow.

Father!

She ran after him, desperately calling out to him, but he didn’t turn around.

He grew farther and farther away, and her mouth twisted downward in an ugly frown. Just as she turned around to call for help—everyone had vanished without a trace.

In their place were weapons. A multitude of them.

Swords, spears, axes, staffs, shields.

They protruded from the ground like gravestones, forming a circle around her.

Aiz found herself lacking words, captivated by her surroundings. There was no one in sight, not even her father. Everything was consumed by the endless darkness.

Encircled by the meaningless, broken weapons, she called out their names again and again. Her father, her mother, everyone she knew.

And then came a powerful wind.

As it tousled and whipped her golden hair, she turned around to see her on the far side of her field of vision.

With the same long golden hair flowing down her back—her mother.

Her back was to Aiz as she confronted something writhing in the midst of the darkness.

Before Aiz’s call could reach her, the shadow flared its gills.

A swarm of new shadows sprang forth, entangling her mother, arms outstretched, swallowing her whole.

Tears flooded Aiz’s golden eyes.

She screamed, and suddenly, in front of her appeared a single sword protruding from the ground.

It was identical to her father’s, a silver sword covered with cracks.

Aiz pulled that decrepit weapon from the ground and gave chase.

—Wait for me!

She was no longer a young girl. She was the Sword Princess. And she raced forward, cutting her way through the darkness.

—I said WAIT!!

Again she yelled at the silhouette of her mother as it melted into the darkness.

I’ll make it there.

I’ll come for you.

And I’ll definitely bring you back, I swear.

She vowed to the figure already swallowed by that black vortex.

Then she swore to herself. To the young girl left behind, tightly gripping her sword.

And then.

A brilliant wave of white light slammed down on top of her, obscuring her vision.

“…”

Her golden eyes cracked open silently.

She blinked a few times to fight off the residual unease of the dream.

There weren’t any tears.

But her vision was slightly blurred.

Still on her side, she gave her eyes a stealthy wipe of her arm.

“…?”

She was getting her bearings and returning to consciousness when she heard something.

A series of soft, sleeping breaths that belonged to someone else.

She glanced to her side and found the boy splayed out on his back, eyes shut tight.

Bathed in warm sunlight, he was fast asleep without a care in the world, tiny snores whistling past his lips.

Blinking several more times, Aiz felt a smile coming on.

They were unusually far away from each other, weren’t they? Finding it rather curious, Aiz slowly slid herself closer to Bell’s side.

And then they lay there, the two of them, side by side on the stone floor.

The boy’s sleeping face was even more cherubic than when he was awake.

Aiz reached her hand out gently, as though tenderly handling some precious treasure.

Her fingers touched his cheeks. They were so warm.

The heat passed from his skin to the tips of her fingers.

His lips parted at the pressure. “Forgive me, Grandfather…” he murmured, as though he were having a dream of his own.

Aiz smiled.

The way she’d done so long ago, when she was carefree and young.

His white hair contrasted so distinctly with the terrifying black shadow of her dream, and she let her fingers run through his bright locks again and again, her eyes crinkling.

As unnerving as her dream had been, her heart was already calm.

She had a white rabbit to lead her tiny self out of wonderland.

That time of tenderness she was supposed to have lost so long ago wrapped around her now like a comforting blanket beneath the gaze of the blue sky.

It was nearing sunset.

The streets of Orario were stained a pinkish red as the sun began its descent toward the distant horizon.

Set against that vibrant sun, a fierce duel was taking place atop the city walls.

The boy and girl came close, then separated, over and over again.

Night had almost fallen.

A pair of eyes watched their match from far above, perched at the city’s highest pinnacle that stood nearest to the stars.

“While I can’t say I’m displeased that she’s drawing out that child’s radiance…” The image of the golden-haired, golden-eyed swordswoman was reflected in silver eyes with every scabbard strike. “…This intimacy they’ve formed worries me.”

There was a twinge of jealousy in her voice as she clenched a fist by her side.

“Especially if it should end up interfering in his trial.” Her silver eyes narrowed. “Allen,” a high, soprano voice ordered the petite man from up ahead.

“Yes?”

“A bit of roughhousing never hurt anyone. Give her a warning.”

“Understood.” The man replied courteously, his cat ears and tail twitching.

Something feels off, Aiz thought between strikes, bathed in the light of the setting sun.

“Bell. You’ve really taken a beating this last hour. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m…I’m fine! Really!”

Their arduous training atop the city walls had acquired an audience in the form of a young goddess.

A few hours ago, after their so-called “nap training” had ended, the two of them had decided to head down into the city for a bit to shore themselves up with a meal.

It was when they stopped to purchase Jyaga Maru Kun, Aiz’s favorite food, that they ran into none other than the goddess of Bell’s familia, Hestia.

The young goddess was working at the stand when the two had waltzed up, unassumingly, to buy themselves a few of the meaty potato snacks. Needless to say, they’d nearly gotten their heads bitten off once Hestia’s rage had been ignited. While the reaction was to be expected—seeing her own child hanging out with a member of another faction they weren’t even close to was enough to make anyone fly off the handle—something about the adverse reaction hinted at a residual grudge on the part of the goddess.

At any rate, after a bit of explaining from Aiz and a bit of desperate persuading from Bell, Hestia had finally, reluctantly, agreed to let them continue their training.

There was one caveat: “You have to let me sit in on today’s training session!”

Which was why the young goddess (and Bell’s new guardian, so to speak) had accompanied them to the top of the city walls. She needed to make sure nothing happened to her adorable little follower, after all!

The goddess Hestia…What was it Loki always called her?

Aiz threw a quick glance at Hestia in the far corner between her bouts with Bell.

The young goddess boasted delicate features that toed the line between adolescent and young lady. Possessing twin pigtails done up with blue blows that matched the color of her eyes, she sported a surprisingly ample chest despite her petite stature.

“Hey! Watch what you’re looking at!” The girl raised her hands in objection to Aiz’s wandering gaze, her breasts swaying with the movement.

The sight of all that bouncing finally reminded her what Loki’s epithet was: “That busty Jyaga Maru midget tramp.” Now she had a pretty good idea why Loki and Hestia had never really gotten along.

All the more reason why Aiz couldn’t tell Loki and the rest of her familia about her training sessions with Bell.

“Nnguh!”

“You’re sure you’re all right?”

“P-perfectly fine!” Bell responded, recovering immediately from a particularly damaging blow from Aiz.

He was being even more stubborn than usual, as though he were especially motivated.

As proof, he’d yet to lose consciousness even once since Hestia had joined them atop the wall.

Like he was determined not to lose face in front of her.

“You can do it!” came Hestia’s cheers of support as he received hit after hit from Aiz.

As much as the corners of Aiz’s lips wanted to creep upward, she held them still—nothing but a humorless solemnity graced her features as she swung her scabbard in relentless onslaughts.

The sheer determination behind his every strike and block, his every desperate flail of his dagger only spurred them on faster and faster.

The high-pitched clangs of their colliding weapons echoed out into the sky above.

Time drifted like the clouds in the evening sky, forgotten, and before long, the dark blue of twilight had overtaken them.

“…Shall we end on that note, then?”

“Ah, sure. Thank you for…for everything.”

Aiz lowered her scabbard, looking up at the moon overhead, and Bell felt his strength leave him.

His body was peppered with bruises, but she had to hand it to him—he’d remained conscious the entire time. Even now, he continued to fight off what must have been an overwhelming urge to collapse. Aiz narrowed her eyes as she gauged his current state and then began packing up her things to head in for the night.

“Good work today, Bell! Feels good getting the stuffing kicked out of you now and then, doesn’t it?”

“L-Lady Hestia, I-I was really trying my best out there!”

“So many hits and not a single drop of blood or tears! Miss Wallen-whatever-her-name-is doesn’t think much of you, nope! She doesn’t, she doesn’t!” Hestia rushed to Bell’s side, a giant grin on her face as she violently pounded him on the back.

At the same time, Aiz calmly slid Desperate back into its scabbard. She could still remember the violent reactions whenever Hestia had seen her strike her follower in the past.

—“Just what do you think you’re doing?!”

—“Keep your hands off my Bell!”

Strangely, though, she’d been remarkably calm and composed during this most recent training session.

In fact, she seemed almost elated at Bell’s battered, bedraggled state—or perhaps at Aiz for doing the battering and bedraggling.

Giving the young goddess a curious cock of her head, Aiz turned her gaze away from the parapets to take in the city below.

It had grown considerably late by this point. The streets were filled with the dazzling glow of magic-stone lamps and the bustle of adventurers returning from the Dungeon.

Time had gotten away from Aiz. She’d been training since the morning, after all, and though she’d already told Tiona and the others she probably wouldn’t be back for dinner, she had a feeling there’d be a few scolding remarks from Riveria’s general direction.

Quickly gathering up her things, she vacated the premises with Bell, still wounded by Hestia’s comments, in tow.

They took the stone stairs down to the city proper.

After countless steps, they ducked under a door at the base of the wall and emerged into a back alley at the edge of the city’s northwestern district.

“U-um, Lady Hestia? We’re outside now, so could you…maybe…let go of my hand?”

“Are you crazy, Bell? Look how dark it is here! You need to hold my hand tight to make sure I don’t trip or anything!”

The three of them made their way through the streets beneath the darkness of the twilit sky, Bell and Hestia’s lively exchange in sharp contrast to Aiz’s still calm.

—Then her ears perked up as her intuition as an adventurer alerted her to something.

“…”

She became still, eyes shifting back and forth to examine her surroundings as Bell and Hestia carried on their horseplay beside her.

It was a fairly wide road, deserted aside from herself and the others.

Put another way, it was too quiet.

The complete lack of even a single other person was almost abnormal. Everything was submerged in the murk of nightfall, the stars and moon above providing the only light. Not even the surrounding buildings offered any illumination from magic stones.

A stealthy glance to a side of the road revealed a fancy magic-stone lamp pole that appeared as though it’d been smashed with some sort of blunt weapon.

—We’re being watched.

A back alleyway devoid of life, purposefully blanketed in darkness.

Aiz’s delicate brows slanted sharply. She could feel someone watching them.

Next to her, Bell sucked in his breath, his embarrassment from Hestia’s grip on his hand cut short the moment he noticed Aiz’s face. Not wasting a moment, he looked around to investigate their surroundings.

Meanwhile, Aiz came to a stop, staring long and hard at a corner at the side of the road.

“—”

“—ngh!”

“Whoa!”

Bell immediately froze as well, prompting a surprised gasp from Hestia, still unaware of the situation.

Aiz watched the path before them.

She peered into the shadows permeating each and every narrow crack between the countless dwellings lining the wide road.

She pierced the darkness with her glare: Come out, now.

And it did. At length, the one who had been observing them emerged from the shadows.

A catman…

Clad in black armor, black linens, and a black visor, he seemed to melt into the darkness itself.

He was male—that much she could tell—and slightly shorter than Bell, but the metallic visor covering his upper face made it impossible to discern his identity.

The light of the moon illuminated the black and gray fur of his feline ears and tail.

From his right hand protruded a silver spear that was at least two meders long.

He radiated bloodlust, like a cat unable to stop itself from killing a mouse despite its owner’s scolding, and Aiz felt herself instinctively revert to Sword Princess mode.

“”

There was a thud as he kicked off from the stone. He was by Bell in an instant.

Time seemed to stop. The appearance of the shadow in front of him was so sudden, Bell didn’t have a chance to respond.

The catman’s spear came at him in a flash—but so did Aiz’s already unsheathed sword, Desperate, blocking the strike with lightning speed.

“—Gnngh!”

“?!”

The spear was knocked away.

The Sword Princess would not be ignored. The silver flash that was her sword struck again at his spear, now raised in self-defense. Sparks went flying as she drove him away from Bell.

The young catman flew backward, and Aiz took a silent step in front of Bell, who was still in shock.

Her golden eyes were steely as she stared at him, an enemy who’d cleared out this stretch of alley to lie in wait for them.

He showed no signs of answering for his actions now.

Their eyes locked.

Then they simultaneously leaped forward.

“H-hey, hey, hey!!”

But the fierce duel had already begun.

By the time Hestia had recovered enough from her gaping astonishment to let out a yelp, Aiz and the catman were entangled in a furious whirlwind of blows.

Racing forward, pulling back, leading then countering, give and take, back and forth, again, again, again. The two upper-class adventurers collided in a ceaseless rhythm, oblivious to the lower-class boy and powerless goddess rooted to their spots on the sidelines.

Their speed increased even further, as did the rhythm of their alternating strikes.

—Who is this guy?!

Aiz’s eyes narrowed. Physical skills on par with her Level 6 abilities? Mastery of the spear that could easily rival her swordplay?

It was at that moment that she felt it. A presence from far above.

Four small shadows emerged atop the three-story building overlooking their duel.

He had friends after all, huh? Even in the midst of her fight she could sense them, and she expanded her field of awareness.

Then the four of them dropped in without a moment’s delay.

Sword, hammer, shield, and ax all fell upon the battlefield.

“—Miss Aiz!” Bell cried out from the sidelines once he noticed the surprise attack, but Aiz would not be daunted. She would show them she was every bit the War Princess that so many adventurers feared.

With an attack that broke the sound barrier, she fended off her feline opponent before using the momentum to propel her sword upward for a sudden second strike.

She then turned toward the four incoming weapons, her entire body a bow and her sword the arrow, taut and trembling with the full force of her might. She released.

“!!”

A flash. Her sword drew a brilliant crescent in the sky overhead.

It carved through space with such speed it left a silver afterimage in the air, repelling four attacks at once.

There was a metallic clash as their arms flew back. The four attackers landed on the ground, fear and dismay coloring their features.

Aiz’s golden hair still billowed from the movement. Behind her, the catman hissed.

“Tch…Monster.”

The golden-haired, golden-eyed swordswoman’s technique and strategy were even more impressive than her nominal Status.

Even Bell trembled at her display of sword prowess. The incredible number of battlefields she’d crossed in her lifetime was readily apparent.

The additional attackers, who had approached from opposite the catman, finally came into view beneath the moonlight—four prums, all clad in the same black armor and visors as their feline companion.

Aiz squinted at the residual tingle in her fingers, left over from the earlier impact. She swung her sword in front of her, and it answered with a crisp swish as it sliced through the air. On her one side was the young catman; on her other, four short prums, overshadowed by their disproportionately large weapons.

And then they were off, all six of them moving at once, as though they’d been given some sort of signal.

“!!”

They came at her from both sides in a pincer attack, but Aiz stood her ground, undaunted.

Just like the catman, the four prums boasted abilities and skills that could only be described as first-tier. The five of them surrounded her, delivering wave after wave of attacks in a ferocious barrage that left Aiz with nowhere to move. Giving up entirely on attempting to evade their attacks, she instead focused on fending them off, using Desperate to intercept and repel every enemy strike.

It was a moonlight raid in the blackest night.

As the ceaseless noise of metal on metal echoed throughout the isolated back alleyway, Aiz fought tooth and nail against her attackers, her sword forming a barrier around her.

What were they trying to accomplish? Was it her they were aiming for? A surprise attack against one of Loki Familia’s elites?

Just as her mind began running wild at what these mute attackers could want, one of the prums—the one holding an oversize sword—called out from beneath his visor.

“Consider this a warning, Sword Princess.”

“You’d do well not to do anything rash from now on.”

The hammer-wielding prum spoke this time but provided no further context. Aiz’s eyebrows rose in uncertainly.

“What are you…talking about?!” she shot out between the report of blades.

“Lock yourself away in the Dungeon, little doll. Hide yourself away on this expedition of yours…” the young catman hissed cruelly, “…and die.”

Aiz found herself at a loss when she heard the feline’s words. But she didn’t have time to dwell. There was a sharp scream from behind her.

“B-Bell!!”

?!

She whirled around instinctively, still fending off her attackers, to find Bell and Hestia surrounded by yet another group of black-clad soldiers.

There’s even more?! She moved to help them only to have her path blocked by a spear.

“…?!”

“If you refuse to listen, we’ll be forced to take drastic measures,” the catman spat coldly.

Standing there, she could hear sounds of fighting from Bell and Hestia’s direction. The quartet of black-clad soldiers leaped at them, as if to deliver a warning to her.

She could feel her patience growing thin. Try as she might to escape the circle her attackers had made around her, she simply couldn’t break through.

The attacks came at her faster.

So fast, her golden eyes widened in surprise. The five shadows were coming at her even more relentlessly now.

—I knew it. It’s them.

It came to her like a flame, scorching the inside of her chest. Talent like this could only point to one familia.

The other great faction long thought of as the counterpart to Loki Familia.

Led by that beautiful goddess, their members boasting war records that could rival Aiz’s own.

The first-tier adventurers—

—Vana Freya and Bringar!

The former was a Level 6 bearing the alias of a chariot and thought to be the best in all of Orario; the latter, a group of Level 5 prums with combat abilities far exceeding Level 6 and near-perfect coordination.

Aiz found herself immobilized by the relentless, multihit counterattacks of the four-man prum troop. At the same time, the catman sped up, his agility surpassing hers even after her recent level-up, and his perpetual barrage forced her to block more with her sword. She was holding back, inner turmoil forbidding her from revealing her true strength, her spell Airiel. She wasn’t about to allow even a single part of its chant to grace the ears of her enemy.

But she was outnumbered. Even Aiz didn’t stand a chance against five first-tier adventurers at once.

And if they were to realize that, the battle would be over very quickly.

“We’ll say it again. This is a warning.”

“Dig too deep and we can’t guarantee your life.”

It came from the hammer-and ax-wielding prums this time, further drawing out the battle.

Aiz felt her expression falter as they continued to gain the advantage, and the young catman shot her a look of pure ice from beneath his visor.

“If you get in her way—we’ll kill you.” With a terrifying slash, his spear grazed the front of Aiz’s silver breastplate, leaving a scratch on its surface.

Silver sparks danced before her eyes.

“—Miss Aiz!”

Then she heard it.

The boy’s frightened shout.

Aiz whirled around to find Bell with his right arm thrust out in front of him.

He’d already finished off the four black-clad soldiers, with Hestia on his left arm and Aiz’s current attackers in his sights.

The five first-tier adventurers turned toward Bell. Aiz seized that moment to escape from the circle.

Bell wasted no time. His voice roared through the air like the sound of a cannon.

“FIREBOLT!!” he screamed, forgoing the chant, and six flaming bolts of lightning immediately followed.

The sparking conflagrations overlapped, piling on top of one another as they hurtled toward the attackers before swallowing them whole.

The explosion was instantaneous.

A wave of voracious heat mushroomed out from the impact zone, practically throwing them backward. The flaming sparks exploded into cinders that rained down from the sky, staining the faces of Bell, Hestia, and Aiz—now a safe distance away—a brilliant crimson.

The crackling embers bloomed around them.

For a moment, at least, the obsidian attackers had been shaken off, lost in the sea of flame brought to life in that small street corner.

“I…I cast a spell without chanting…”

“You’ll wanna report that. Someone’s going to be pleased as punch.”

Meanwhile, the five attackers leisurely walked out of the flames, not bothered in the least by the magic attack of a low-level adventurer. The four prums even had strangely pleasant smiles on their faces.

Aiz readied herself, but just when it seemed it would return to blows, the five assailants lowered their weapons.

“That’s enough. We’re leaving.”

At the young catman’s command, the four prums scattered.

Fearing the flames would draw unwanted attention, they moved quickly to retrieve the black-clad soldiers Bell had trounced earlier.

Aiz saw no reason to recklessly pursue their attackers. She did, however, keep Desperate at the ready even after they disappeared from view, waiting until their presences were far, far away before finally letting out a sigh.

Sliding her sword back into its scabbard, she made her way over to where Bell and Hestia were staring blankly, completely overwhelmed.

“Are you injured?”

“I-I’m fine! I’m more worried about you, Aiz…”

“I’m also unhurt.”

Aiz glanced at Bell, Hestia still fretting over him.

Though Bell’s magic hadn’t done any real damage to the attackers, that didn’t mean it had been pointless. In fact, his move had helped her out of a pretty tight situation.

Aiz still found herself a bit in awe at the boy’s unique fast-casting magic she’d first witnessed down on the tenth floor. She parted her lips in thanks…only to see the white-haired boy avert his eyes, softly biting his lip as though something still weighed on him.

It was a curious look, and Aiz found herself wondering what it could mean until he opened his mouth.

“Those people…who were they? And why would they attack us like that out of the blue…?”

Bell asked with a sort of forced composure, as though hiding his feelings.

The way he was acting bothered Aiz, but she responded to his uneasy question all the same.

“Surprise attacks like this aren’t uncommon.”

“They aren’t?!”

“No. Though it is rare outside the Dungeon…”

While Bell yelped with surprised, still ignorant when it came to power struggles between factions, Aiz’s mind raced with questions once more.

Had they been targeting her while she was cut off from the rest of her familia?

She thought back to their warning. Had she pissed off some faction without realizing it? And had Bell and Hestia simply gotten caught up in the whole thing?

She certainly couldn’t think of anything she’d done that would warrant a vicious attack like this, but the fact that she’d put the other two in danger filled her with self-reproof.

“Can you think of anyone who’d wanna attack you, Wallen-whatever?”

“…Too many, in fact.”

Aiz was hesitant to answer so directly but also realized it wasn’t exactly a secret with her familia.

“Geez! Must be tough in Loki Familia,” Hestia muttered in awe as Aiz thought back to her attackers’ warning.

“If you get in her way—we’ll kill you.”

Still unsure what the young feline could have been referring to, she tucked the words away for later all the same.

Retaliating at the faction level would only exacerbate the situation, something she was sure her opponent was trying to avoid, as well.

Which meant she’d need to leave it be for now, as much as it left a foul taste in her mouth.

The flames from Bell’s spell had calmed down to something on the level of a bonfire. People were starting to gather, though, so Hestia suggested they skedaddle.

Aiz nodded, hoping to avoid any unnecessary trouble herself. Still exchanging words with the young goddess, she started toward a small alley.

—Only to realize Bell wasn’t following them.

“…?”

Still rooted to the spot, he was simply staring off into space.

“What’s wrong…?” Aiz called out behind her.

Bell turned around with a start. “Huh? Ah, no, it’s…it’s nothing. Nothing at all.” He quickly dashed over to them.

Aiz glanced in the same direction Bell had been so intently staring.

Toward the center of the city.

Where the tall white tower gazed down at the trio from its spot in the night sky.

“Ottar’s somewhere in the middle levels?”

Raul Nord, member of Loki Familia, spun around.

It was evening, only two days remaining until the expedition.

They were in Guild Headquarters, currently teeming with adventurers on their way back from the Dungeon. Armor-clad demi-humans bustled around the wide marble lobby as they went about their business, whether it be cashing in their monster loot, reporting to their advisers, or collecting rewards for completed quests.

Standing in front of the giant bulletin board that was decorated with official Guild proclamations and quest notices, Raul turned his gaze toward the incoming bearer of information.

“Is that true, Aki?”

“Yes. Well, at least that’s what a couple of adventurers were saying earlier. Not sure how much stock you put in it, but quite a few folks have seen him now.”

The cat girl in black—Aki—flicked her slender obsidian tail that was the same color as her waist-length hair.

A number of Loki Familia adventurers were at the Guild collecting intel that could prove useful during their upcoming expedition.

Irregulars along their planned route, overlapping schedules with other factions, potential presence or absence of floor bosses—investigating these things was important work and couldn’t be neglected if they wanted to ensure their expedition’s smooth progress.

And it was this exact job that’d been entrusted to Loki Familia’s lower-ranking members.

“Mister Rauuuuuul! Looks like ol’ Goliath’s reared his ugly head on the eighteenth floor again. Everyone’s just lettin’ him be, assuming we’ll take care of him as we go through.”

“The Guild’s saying Babel can’t get all the salamander wool and undine robes we ordered! What should we do?”

“Just…just hold on a second, will ya? Give me a moment!” Raul thrust his hands out to stop the barrage of incoming information, his brow furrowing in overwhelmed aggravation as he pleaded silently for a chance to collect himself.

Raul Nord. Human. Twenty-one years old.

His big forehead was crowned with a crop of spiky black hair. A man of medium build and average stature, his features only further emphasized his humanness and utter ordinariness. Even now, standing flustered in front of his companions, he made for a fairly boring, uninteresting addition to the familia.

That being said, he was still a Level 4, second-tier adventurer.

Born the third son of a poor farming family, before he was even eight years old Raul made what he called “the biggest decision of his life” by leaving his country home. Like so many others, he arrived at Orario filled with big dreams and just a little manly ambition. Before long, he found himself inducted into Loki Familia.

He turned out to be a natural, and by forcing his way onto the battlefield behind Finn and the others, Raul got to where he was today. For a reason even Raul himself couldn’t fathom, first Finn, then the other elites in the familia began putting a great deal of trust in him, which was why he often found himself tasked with supervising other lower-ranking members, whether in administrative tasks like this or dealing with issues in the Dungeon.

That same human, so scatterbrained when compared to the pioneers of such a great familia, was currently attempting to prioritize the incoming information from his fellow familia members one at a time.

“Uhhh…Right! Aki! We were talking about Ottar…”

“He’s been spotted hunting monsters around the seventeenth floor these last couple of days. Right, Leene?” Aki turned to glance at her colleague next to her.

The bespectacled girl with her hair pulled back in a braid responded with a nod and a hesitant “Y-yes.”

Ottar the Warlord…captain of Freya Familia and the strongest warrior in all of Orario.

At the same time, he was one of Loki Familia’s longest-standing foes.

Ottar had commanded the top spot on the familia’s blacklist for as long as Raul could remember.

It seemed a bit strange that Freya Familia’s captain, of all people, would be camping out in the middle levels where he’d overpower every monster he came across…

“…What’s that guy up to, I wonder.” Though even as he muttered it under his breath, Raul knew there was no one in the vicinity who could supply him with an answer.

The other familia members around him glanced back and forth at one another, starting with Aki, who simply shrugged her shoulders.

“What’s goin’ on here, huh?”

“Ah! Sir Gareth!”

The dwarf made his way through the hustle and bustle to where they were standing next to the giant bulletin board.

Gareth was one of the heads of Loki Familia, and the great dwarf warrior exuded the aura of a seasoned soldier. He naturally drew the gazes of the nearby adventurers, their eyes filled with a kind of awe.

Raul filled the dwarf in about Ottar.

“So the old bloke’s muckin’ about the middle levels? Hmm…Bah! I wouldn’t give it a thought!”

“Really?”

“That’s right! Don’t let it bother ya, yeah? Even if the fella’s there on official orders, he’s not one to favor plannin’ ’n’ all that. I don’t think we’ve got to worry about him interferin’ in our expedition,” Gareth mused. “’Sides, what with the Guild encouragin’ exploration in the depths, he’d be takin’ a risk himself attackin’ a familia doin’ just that,” he continued, running a hand through his beard.

Raul and the others found themselves agreeing with the old dwarf—he was one of their familia’s leading authorities. Of course, thanks to Aiz’s silence, none of them knew about the vicious attack against her that had occurred just the night before, which meant they weren’t particularly on guard when it came to Freya Familia.

“What brought you here, then, Sir Gareth?”

“Right! Got done carryin’ everything back to the manor. Expedition’s gonna start right on time the day after tomorrah. Gotta inform the Guild, y’know?”

Raul and company followed Gareth to the counter in the lobby as the dwarf filled them in on the familia’s preparations. It seemed everything was in order, including the weapons—and the magic sword—from Hephaistos Familia.

When a high-ranking faction such as Loki Familia went on an expedition, it was essential that they report the details to the Guild—everything from their start date to how long they planned to stay down in the Dungeon. They were a valuable military power to Orario, after all.

If something happened to them and they didn’t return from the Dungeon, the Guild would oftentimes send in search-and-rescue parties.

“By the way, how’re you kids doin’, huh? Restin’ up properly ’n’ all that?” Gareth turned toward Raul and the entourage of other familia members trailing behind them.

“Ha…Ha-ha-ha…Ha-ha-ha-ha-haaa…” Raul laughed weakly.

Even with the expedition right around the corner, he and the other low-ranking members were finding every chance they could get to train, none of them wanting to look bad in the face of Aiz’s recent level-up. As they walked, Aki looked purposefully in the other direction, and Leene refused to meet Gareth’s eyes.

Gareth, in turn, could do nothing but sigh, the same as a certain high elf had earlier.

“I’ve already gotten an earful from Mister Bete, actually…” Raul admitted. The memory of the werewolf standing over him with a sardonic laugh as tears pricked the corners of his eyes was still fresh in his head.

“Ain’t gonna do ya any good now, moron!”

“He and Miss Aiz…they went up against some pretty powerful enemies down on the twenty-fourth floor, didn’t they?” Raul whispered quietly in Gareth’s ear.

It took Gareth a moment, but finally, he nodded. “…Aye, they did.”

As one of the familia’s elites, he’d already heard all about the incident a few days prior.

“Bete hasn’t changed a bit since they got back,” Raul muttered, thinking back to his show of arrogance—par for the course for him—back in the manor.

Gareth, however, remained quiet. He knew that the werewolf had actually been training harder than anyone else the last few days.

Blaming himself entirely for what happened, and stubbornly hating to lose, he’d been exercising on his own in secret, careful to make sure Raul and the others had no idea what he was doing.

And Gareth had been helping him train in a little shed just outside the city in the wee hours of the morning.

“Haah…Kids these days…”

“?”

Gareth let out a deep sigh, to which Raul eyed him curiously.

Before long, they made it to the counter where a young receptionist sat waiting.

“Report from Loki Familia. Just wanted to let ya know we’ll be settin’ off on our expedition in two days like we tentatively reported. Here’s our application.”

“Wonderful! Understood.”

Misha Frot cheerfully replied as she accepted the application parchment from Gareth.

She was a short little thing, reaching only 150 celch, topped with a mop of pink hair. Answering Gareth with a youthful voice that matched her cherubic face, she rose from her chair and straightened her posture.

Placing one hand over the other with a smile, she gave the dwarf a deep bow.

“We will be awaiting your safe return. May the fortunes of war shine upon you.” It was a prayer for the brave adventurers’ triumphant return, spoken not only as an employee of the Guild but as a fellow citizen of Orario.

Then she stamped the expedition application form with the crimson Guild seal.

“Loki Familia’s expedition will be carried out as planned.”

The nearby torchlight responded with a spark.

The voice of the elven Guild master, Royman Mardeel, echoed throughout the dim underground space. The floor was covered in large slate blocks and four torches illuminating its large altar, giving off the feeling of an ancient temple.

His corpulent, fleshy body, completely unbefitting of an elf, knelt in front of the colossal two-meder figure of Ouranos. The old god nodded slowly from his seat at the center of the altar.

“You may leave.”

“Y-yes, my liege.”

As the austere voice of Orario’s founding god boomed around him, Royman’s bulbous body quivered. Silently, he stepped back from the altar, making his way out of the chamber and back up the stairs to the surface.

Ouranos remained motionless in his spot atop the great stone pedestal, his blue eyes staring after Royman’s retreating form long after the other man had left.

“…They’ll be going through with it after all?” came a voice from the darkness once Royman was out of earshot.

It was Fels who stepped forward, dark robe slicing through the veil of concentrated darkness in the corner of the chamber.

Blackness shrouded the cloak all the way down to his ornately patterned gloves, leaving absolutely no skin visible. Fels was like a ghost in the flickering torchlight—appearance, race, sex, every possible aspect was left as an enigma.

“Indeed. It would seem Loki, too, desires information on the recent string of violence,” Ouranos replied without even turning his head.

Thus began the colloquy between the venerable god and his closest adviser, deep in the prayer room below Guild Headquarters.

“What do you think, Ouranos? Could the key to everything truly lie within the Dungeon’s depths? On its fifty-ninth floor?”

“That is what I believe, though I cannot be certain.”

“A god’s hunch, sir?”

“Yes.”

Their words were short, punctuated with flickers from the nearby torches.

At Ouranos’s terse response, Fels nodded.

“Understood. Shall I arrange for a set of eyes to watch them? I’m sure whatever is down there will be of great interest to us.”

“See that you do,” Ouranos replied to the black-robed Magus’s suggestion.

“Allow me to go over all our information. Let me know if I’m missing anything.”

At the old god’s nod, Fels continued from within the folds of the shadow-filled hood.

“First, we have what was revealed to us on the twenty-fourth floor by that creature-woman with the red hair, Levis.”

“The one manipulating the viola and protecting the crystal orb…”

“Indeed. In addition, if we believe what we learned from the ringleader of the Twenty-Seventh-Floor Nightmare, the reanimated Olivas Act…both the fetus and the vibrant magic stones within that new species of monster all originate from the being referred to simply as ‘her.’”

“She” was the one who had revived Olivas Act from the abyss of death by implanting within him a vivid magic stone, giving birth to a new human-monster hybrid. The red-haired woman, Levis, was also such a creature. By assimilating magic stones, she and her kind could morph into all-powerful enhanced species—beings that surpassed the limits of both mortal and divine knowledge.

It seemed these creatures, “her” especially, had used their ability to control monsters and set off this string of incidents dating all the way back to the Monsterphilia.

“‘She’s sleeping deep within the earth,’ ‘She wants to see the sky’…That is what Olivas Act said according to Hermes Familia. From that we can infer ‘she’ inhabits the Dungeon’s lower depths…”

“Then is she like the monsters of the Ancient Times, craving the light of the upper world?” Fels responded to Ouranos’s words with a well-placed conclusion.

There was a high chance that whatever awaited Loki Familia on the fifty-ninth floor, where the creature Levis had directed Aiz, had something to do with “her.”

“The relationship between Aiz Wallenstein and the crystal orb is but one piece of the puzzle.”

“…”

Aiz had reacted so strongly upon first coming into contact with the fetus back in Rivira on the eighteenth floor, she’d collapsed. The fetus, too, had responded to Aiz’s magic.

At Fels’s words, Ouranos ever so slightly averted his eyes.

Enshrouded in deep shadows broken only by the flickering torches, he stilled his tongue as though searching his thoughts for an answer.

Fels continued in spite of the old god’s brooding silence.

“Next, we have the remaining Evils. While we do know they’re ghosts from ages past, we don’t know who is leading them. All we can confirm is that they were seen capturing violas on the twenty-fourth floor and carting them off to who-knows-where.”

The many factions that sided with both them and the Guild had conspired against and destroyed this radical group.

Under the direction of gods who referred to themselves as “evil,” they’d stood for the downfall of order, inciting rebellions all across Orario with schadenfreude as their one clear objective. They simply wanted to watch the world burn.

The Evils familias had been eradicated, and every single one of the “evil gods” sent back to the heavens. It wasn’t clear whether these newly discovered “remnants” were actual survivors of the group or simply recent followers eager to carry on their work.

Everything about the group remained a haze—how many familias were connected to it, the organization’s scale, and even the gods leading it were a mystery.

“Forces on the surface cooperating with ‘her’ and her followers below to obliterate Orario…Could this be what’s tying all these events together?”

“It would come as no surprise to me if the remnants of the Evils had an alliance with the underground powers…or perhaps were being used by the underground.”

Fels’s voice reverberated across the altar, then Ouranos’s.

It could very well be that the two groups, Levis’s followers and the Evils remnants, were both using each other, but before Fels and Ouranos could reach a conclusion, there was an interruption.

“…May I ask you something, Ouranos?” Black robes swishing, Fels turned toward the venerable god in his spot atop the altar.

Ouranos replied affirmatively with a simple turn of his head.

“During the incident on the twenty-fourth floor, the red-haired woman uttered the name of a person…Well, the name sounded very much like that of a god—Enyo.”

It had been among the information they’d received from the chienthrope.

“—While not complete, it’s grown enough! Take it to Enyo!”

That was what Levis had said to that figure in the mask and hood—possibly one of the Evils—upon acquisition of the crystal orb.

“This ‘Enyo’ is probably an important character. Does the name ring a bell?” Fels asked in an attempt to confirm Lulune’s report.

“…I don’t recall ever having heard of a god by that name,” Ouranos replied before continuing. “However…the word enyo does exist in the language of the gods.”

His blue eyes narrowed.

“It means ‘destroyer of cities.’”

It was the day before the expedition.

Which meant it was the last day of training.

Two shadows overlapped atop the stones of the great wall on the city’s outer rim, bathed in dawn’s first light from the east. The woman, long golden hair spilling out behind her, struck forward again and again, and the boy, white hair fluttering this way and that, followed her every movement in fierce pursuit.

They performed violent back-and-forth offense and defense between scabbard and dagger as they had each day before.

As the magnificent dawn cresting the far mountains painted Aiz’s face, she studied the boy in front of her.

Each time she went for an opening, he blocked.

As she raised the speed of her attacks, the number of his blocks increased.

It was the defensive technique she’d taught him.

Repelling enemies’ attacks from the side or an angle, rather than from the front.

In terms of defense, he’d certainly met his goal for their training.

The boy put everything he had behind his strikes, behind the technique he’d seen, felt, and learned over the course of their duels.

“—Nngh!”

There was a kind of brazen vigor imbued in his skill with the dagger.

Even as the relentless string of attacks carved away at him, he kept up his blocks, deflecting blow after blow.

And then.

The boy did more than defend. He attacked Aiz for the very first time.

“…!” Aiz’s eyes opened in surprise.

Bell’s dagger streaked at her, its blade flashing beneath the morning sky.

It was easy to block, but that didn’t change the fact that the boy had been able to get a strike in at all.

Aiz stared at him wordlessly. The boy’s breathing was haggard, and his dagger arm hung limply at his side.

His body was littered with bruises, but his face held the same look of determination he’d had since their first day, rubellite eyes shining with an unfading brilliance.

All of a sudden, the morning sun beamed toward them, the resulting radiance flooding Aiz’s field of vision with white.

The boy stood there, haloed in pure-white resplendence. A sort of euphoria escaped Aiz’s lips at the sight, and she smiled from the bottom of her heart.

“That’s it, then, I guess…” Aiz whispered with a sigh.

The sun was already peeking over the majestic mountains of the eastern sky, almost like a signal that their week of training had come to an end.

Aiz turned toward that sight, squinting at daybreak’s glorious fire. The boy did the same before turning back to her and bowing his head.

“Thank you. Thank you for everything,” he said, bending at the waist and facing the stone beneath his feet.

Their one week together had been short. Too short, it seemed, and as Aiz looked back over their seven-day tryst, she felt her heart and mind flood with emotion.

She hadn’t uncovered a single thing about Bell’s uncanny growth. However, without even noticing it, she’d learned how enjoyable it was watching him improve from one day to the next, what it felt like to have her heart flutter, and the pure bliss that came from knowing she could teach another.

And for Aiz, who’d known nothing but combat for as long as she could remember, this made her happy.

It had been a path of joy and sorrow, frantic worrying, despondent wallowing, profound thinking, and utter happiness that had brought the two of them to this point.

She embraced this time, this irreplaceable moment they had shared, deep within her heart.

After a while, Bell rose, his white hair fluttering in the breeze and making him look even more like a rabbit than usual.

Their eyes met.

“I would also like to thank you. It was…fun,” she said quietly, voice reverberating with a warmth that surprised even herself as her eyes softened.

She smiled once more, the two of them bathed in morning’s first light.

Bell’s face instantly reddened, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly as he stared at his feet. Seeing this only made her smile widen. If there was one thing that hadn’t changed during their week of training, it was his constant embarrassment.

Who knew the white rabbit could be so shy?

“…Good luck…with everything.”

“…Thank you.”

Aiz slowly tore her gaze away before turning around.

It was time for the two of them to begin running again. With those last few words, she began to pull away, knowing she’d regret it if she allowed herself to pause here.

This wasn’t good-bye.

From here on out, the two of them would be facing their own objectives, aiming for their own separate peaks.

“…”

Aiz walked a few steps along the top of the wall glowing in sunlight, then slowly turned back around.

The boy had already turned his back to her, far off now as he ran along his own path.

Inhaling a deep breath of all that vast morning blue, she curled her lips into a smile.

“…See you again.”

And then, turning her back to the boy, she ran.

Her sunny-blond ponytail spilled out behind her as she dodged.

Deep below the surface, closed off from the sky, her voice sang out, reverberating off the Dungeon walls. Again and again the sword flew at her, but her voice never faltered.

Staff clenched in her hands, Lefiya wove her spells, her lips constantly moving.

Stepping, evading, dodging the relentless attacks of the golden-haired, golden-eyed swordswoman, she took advantage of every opening she found, taking only the minimum hits necessary to keep the incoming strikes from influencing her chants.

Just like the first day of their training, she refused to back down or close her eyes in fear.

She focused on every attack, vision wide, picturing her next movement in her mind to ensure the words of her chant remained unbroken.

Deep inside her she could hear the words of her many teachers.

The soul of an unshakable tree and the chanting techniques she’d learned from Riveria.

The Concurrent Casting Filvis had helped her master.

She threw everything out in front of her in a single attack on the swordswoman she so revered.

“Loose your arrows, fairy archers. Pierce, arrow of accuracy…”

In a dance, she wove her song between the steps of her opponent’s sword waltz.

As the magic circle formed beneath her feet, Lefiya completed her chant, unleashing the spell.

“—Arcs Ray!”

A brilliant arrow of light shot forth from the circle.

Aiz stepped deftly out of the way as it shrieked by to explode against the Dungeon wall.

Chunks and pieces of the wall went flying as smoke rose up from the resulting rift. The damage was great, greater than before—evidence of her increase in magic strength from her training with Filvis two days prior.

“Whoa…” Aiz let out an awed mutter of surprise as the two of them stared at the wall.

The elven magic user herself just smiled faintly at the improvement in her Concurrent Casting, her breath still ragged.

“Impressive, Lefiya. You’re really getting the hang of this.”

Lefiya laughed bashfully. “Only…thanks to everyone’s help, truly. The credit isn’t mine to claim…”

She wouldn’t have been able to master the skill if even one of her teachers had been missing.

Everything was a result of her practice duels with Aiz and Filvis as well as Riveria’s tutelage. They were the women who had guided her as she’d fought so desperately to keep up.

“Of course it is,” Aiz countered with a smile in response to Lefiya’s red-faced modesty.

Aiz’s heartfelt praise, however, made Lefiya only more embarrassed.

“Miss Aiz…I have been working very hard so that I can support you and the others in the expedition,” she explained, hugging her staff to her chest as she met her tutor’s gaze directly.

She didn’t want to waste what Aiz and everyone had done for her or slow them down. She wanted to be helpful and make a difference.

“I know.” Aiz nodded at the elf’s bold-faced oath of determination.

Lefiya could see her own conviction reflected in those golden eyes.

Then finally, her lips parted. “Could I ask…What’s become of that human?”

The area around Aiz’s eyes softened. “He’s also been trying very hard.”

It was the day before the expedition, so this would be both Lefiya’s and the boy’s last day of training.

Aiz’s face had appeared refreshed, almost invigorated after ending her early morning training session with that boy. Her usually stark, emotionless features were tinted with joy.

“I see…” Lefiya answered quietly at Aiz’s response, both verbal and visual. Lowering her gaze, she focused instead on the bluish-white pallor of the magic stone affixed to her staff.

She’d never quite been able to erase that boy from her mind.

Even now, at the end of her training, she couldn’t keep herself from thinking about him.

“What with the expedition tomorrow, why don’t we head back early?”

At Aiz’s suggestion that they vacate their Dungeon training room, however, Lefiya’s head rose, and she interjected with another suggestion.

“Actually, I…I would still like to do a bit of fine-tuning on my own.”

“Sure…It’s fine. Just don’t push yourself too hard, okay?” Aiz responded, not pressing her further.

She excused herself from the room, almost as though sensing something in the elf’s demeanor, and left Lefiya alone among the phosphorescent walls and ceiling.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

At length, she began to perform once more, staff gripped between her hands and the songs of her people on her lips.

Periodically double-checking her movements, periodically releasing a beam of light at an oncoming monster, she trained.

As long as time permitted, she reviewed and practiced again and again and again.

“…I should head back,” Lefiya muttered some hours later as she drew a pocket watch from her clothing and checked the time.

Her silver elven pocket watch, crafted to resemble a tree and leaves, indicated it was already well into the evening hours.

Shutting the lid with a snap, Lefiya took off for the exit, stopping just in front of the door for a last look at the room where she’d spent so many hours training during the past few days.

I learned so much here, she thought with a faint smile. This would be the last time she’d leave.

“Perhaps I stayed a bit too long…” Lefiya mused before leaving that western room on the Dungeon’s fifth floor and dashing toward the surface.

Thinking back to how enthusiastically she’d taken Aiz’s words to heart, she returned to the floor’s main route, currently flooded with other people. She progressed to the upper levels, taking out the odd monster or two and passing a good number of her fellow adventurers along the way.

Maneuvering through Onset Road, as the large passageway on the first floor was called, she proceeded up the spiral staircase to the large hole that led to the surface and emerged on the ground floor of Babel Tower.

She was just about to make her way through the gate and into the sprawling Central Park when she ran into a familiar face.

“Ah!”

“Ah!”

Their short cries of surprise overlaid each other as their gazes met.

She saw those unforgettable rubellite eyes and hair as white as virgin snow.

He hefted a giant backpack on his shoulders and stood beside a young werewolf girl with long grayish-brown hair. One of his adventurer companions?

On his way back from the Dungeon, no doubt, he appeared completely spent, but after crossing paths with Lefiya, the two of them stopped short.

The werewolf girl eyed the two of them curiously as other adventurers bustled around them.

Lefiya was the first to move.

Eyebrows rising, she raised a slender finger and pointed it with an almost audible SNAP at the bemused boy.

“I won’t lose!”

The boy simply stood there, bewildered, with his eyes as round as saucers. Lefiya ran.

Out through the gate, into the park as the eyes of the baffled werewolf girl and her fellow adventurers seared into her back.

The conviction she was saving for tomorrow’s expedition and the resolution she’d made to that boy.

Holding those two feelings close, she bolted through the square that was all awash in reds. In and out, in and out, she weaved through the crowd.

She ran toward the fiery crimson of the setting sun and didn’t look back.

“If you would, please, Lokiiiiiii!”

“Fer cryin’ out loud! Just how many of you guys are out there?!”

Night had fallen.

A mighty roar bellowed from Twilight Manor, home of Loki Familia.

The cry originated in Loki’s bedroom atop the centermost spire in the outcropping of towers. A line of the goddess’s precious little followers had formed outside her door at the peak of its winding staircase.

“This is ridiculous! How could this many of ya need yer Statuses checked?! The night before the expedition, even—good grief!”

It was true—every single one of them was waiting for a turn to update their Statuses. Men and women alike had flocked to Loki’s tower in hopes of applying their excelia before tomorrow’s expedition.

Loki had specifically warned them not to wait until the last moment to update their Statuses in order to avoid this, but her advice had fallen on deaf ears. Consumed by the need to train, they’d beaten themselves up, polished their skills, and collected every last bit of excelia they could until the last second possible. Though the feeling was understandable, so was Loki’s lament.

“Damn training craze, damn Aizuu…” Loki cursed the golden-haired airhead under her breath as she diligently went to work updating Statuses for that girl’s brethren. She wasn’t about to turn them away, given even the tiniest boost could mean the difference between life and death on the rigorous expedition ahead.

“Gods-dammit! Not even enough time to cop a few feels!”

“Thank yoooooou!”

Loki could practically feel tears of blood running down her face as she remorsefully watched a beastwoman exit the room with her tunic removed, taking that smooth curve of her back and those beautiful breasts with her.

It was a veritable frenzy, and she barely had room to breathe. No matter how many of her followers’ Statuses she updated, the line outside her door refused to shorten. That was the problem with having a big familia—it was a lot of work, too.

The short hand of the clock made first one circle, then two as it neared midnight.

“I’m…I’m done!”

As the last gentleman took his leave with a word of thanks, Loki gazed out at the complete lack of people in front of her door.

Pushing it closed, she heaved a sigh that was equal parts delight and relief.

Not more than a second later, the door burst back open, almost as though it’d been planned.

“Yo, Loki! Update my Status, will ya?”

“Guh…Beeeeeeeete…” Loki collapsed onto her bed upon the young werewolf’s entrance. “Can’t ya see I’m dyin’ here?”

“How the hell was I supposed to know, huh?” Bete responded, indifferent to the silent tears Loki cried into her bedsheets. He pulled a chair over next to her and sat himself down.

“If only I coulda ended with someone like Aiz…Least then I coulda gotten a little thrill as a reward. But no…It had to be Bete…” Loki grumbled to herself.

“Screw you.” Bete pulled off his battle jacket. “It takes you, like, one second, so just do it already!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Bete turned his bare back to Loki, surrendering himself to the goddess’s touch.

Unlocking and quickly raising the crimson hieroglyphs on Bete’s back, Loki proceeded to update his Status.

“Comin’ here after everyone else has already left…You wouldn’t happen to be trainin’ by yerself all secret-like, are ya?”

“How the hell did you know?!”

Loki just snickered. “My little secret.”

The goddess out of sight behind him, Bete didn’t even try to keep the exasperation from his face.

She grinned to herself before running her finger, wet with ichor, over his back.

“I bet some of those kids who’re scared of ya now would come right up to you if they knew ’bout your secret training sessions. So out of character, y’know? Some people go fer that. That’s a comfortin’ thought, ain’t it?”

Bete let out a sharp laugh. “What do I care about making friends with weaklings?” The werewolf so feared by everyone beside the familia elites simply scoffed, briefly muttering, “Stupid,” as Loki’s finger continued to flow across his back without pause.

His amber eyes stared angrily at the far wall.

“It’s us strong folks’ duty to look down on the small fries from on high. Our right.”

“…”

“If we don’t laugh and spit on ’em, who will? We’ll just end up with a buncha idiots who don’t know their place,” Bete continued, voice dripping with irritation. “They should be lookin’ up to us so much they break their necks. Those namby-pambies…They’re so weak, it’s disgusting.”

Though he didn’t say it explicitly, it was clear his words were aimed at the throng of familia members desperately struggling to catch up after Aiz leveled up.

Loki was silent as she listened, staring at Bete’s finely chiseled back and the faint scars that covered his skin. She closed her eyes before letting out an abrupt puff of laughter.

Finishing his Status update, she translated the results into Koine.

“Yer abilities have really shot up, Bete.”

“How much?”

“’Bout three levels.”

“Shot up, my ass!” Bete snatched the translated update results from her hands with a howl.

“Nah, come on! Fer a Level Five to get these kinda results on their own, it’s really somethin’!” Loki assured him with a laugh.

The werewolf just huffed and puffed, his eyes burning holes through the form. “This ain’t shit…”

Glancing around at the wine bottles and other knickknacks proliferating Loki’s room, he lit the candle on her desk before burning the update form.

“…Yeah, yeah, we get it. You’re a tough guy.”

As Bete pulled his jacket over his shoulders and headed for the door, Loki called out from her place on the bed.

“Tough enough to protect everyone down there. You’ll do that fer me, yeah?”

Who knew how many dangers awaited them on their upcoming expedition? As the goddess’s words reached his ears, the werewolf stopped in the doorway and glanced back over his shoulder.

“…Ha. You didn’t choose a buncha asses, ya old hag.”

Now it was Loki’s turn to look surprised, rarely as it happened. Bete just grinned.

“They may be chumps, but they ain’t cowards. They can take care of themselves.”

Loki looked long and hard at her ever-disobedient child.

Then she smiled.

She woke up on her own.

It was morning. The day of the expedition.

Aiz slowly cracked her eyes open at the sun filtering in from the crack between the curtains.

Pushing herself up from her bed in her room at the manor, she threw a glance first at Desperate leaning against the wall, then out the window, her eyes narrowing.

There was nothing but clear blue sky as far as the eye could see.

“Leeeeet’s do this!”

“Do you have to be so loud? Just shut up and get ready…”

Tiona and Tione emerged boisterously from their beds in their two-person room.

It was time to get their things ready. The expedition they’d been waiting for had finally arrived. As the older of the two wrapped her battle clothes around her ample chest and slender legs, her younger sister—already changed—opened up their chest’s shelves and began tossing items out left and right, stuffing anything they might need into her pack.

As Tione grumbled and complained, the floor quickly became buried in Tiona’s possessions.

Her pareu swishing back and forth, Tiona turned finally to collect her large double-edged sword from its spot against the shelf.

“This expedition is our chance to catch up with Aiz!”

She gripped the oversize weapon by the handle, its blades glinting with a brilliant luster.

“Lefiya, I’m heading out!”

“Ah! All right! I will be there shortly!”

Lefiya hurriedly returned to her preparations as her roommate stepped out the door.

Turning to the mirror, she set to work on her long golden hair, holding the silver barrette accessory between her teeth to free her hands until she could tie it back in her usual ponytail.

Once everything was secured, she took a last look in the mirror and nodded with a little “Okay!”

“…”

She rose from her chair with her staff, Forest’s Teardrop, already at her side and glanced down at the palms of her hands.

As though checking the magic strength her brethren—no, her friends—had bestowed upon her, she squeezed her hands into tight little fists.

Then, head popping back up, she slung the cylindrical supporter’s backpack over her shoulder and took off out the door.

“Ah! Bete!”

They were out in the garden of the manor, carting some of the large-scale cargo and other materials.

The lower-ranking members of the familia were at work gathering everything from tents and spare armor to the thirty-plus weapons (magic sword included) they’d be taking on the expedition, inspecting and organizing everything accordingly.

Everyone, willing or not, was nervous and excited about the big day, and in the midst of all the chatter, Raul, in charge of instructing his fellow familia members, spotted Bete emerge from the tower’s entryway.

His gauntlets and silvery metal boots shone brightly in the sun.

“G-good morning!” Raul took the initiative and greeted the werewolf, easily the most restless of all the other first-tiers.

“Well, aren’t you all takin’ yer sweet time?!” Bete spit his response at both Raul and their surrounding colleagues.

They visibly shrank back, since Bete himself was already greatly feared among the lower-ranked members, and Raul could feel the sweat forming on his temple as he forced a laugh.

“Ah-ha-ha-ha…”

In spite of everything, the fact that Bete was no different from normal even before the big expedition was almost strangely calming.

“Aiz and the others aren’t here yet?”

“Th-they aren’t, sir! I’ve received word that Miss Tiona and her sister are currently eating breakfast in the mess hall, but it seems Miss Aiz is still in her room,” Raul continued, pushing forward despite the surrounding atrophy.

Bete came to a stop. “Really? She’s not gonna eat anything? That goddamn woman…” he muttered, cursing under his breath as he turned around and headed back the way he’d come.

Raul didn’t know if the werewolf was on his way to eat or headed up to Aiz’s room, but either way, as he watched Bete walk away, he found himself thinking the strangest thought.

What a nice guy…

“…”

Finn was down on one knee, hand to his chest in his room, located in the manor’s northernmost tower.

He was silent, eyes closed, a grand tapestry covering the wall in front of him and a statue of a goddess occupying a spot atop the nearby shelf.

Both the tapestry, woven in gold and silver, and the plaster statue, a spear in its hand, portrayed the same woman—the fictitious though greatly worshipped goddess of the prums, Phiana.

“You up, Finn?…Oops, sorry. Didn’t mean to intrude.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m finished.”

Gareth and Riveria made to leave as soon as they saw Finn kneeling in front of Phiana, but Finn stopped them before they could retreat, opening his eyes and pushing himself to his feet.

Concluding his prayer, he turned away from his beloved goddess to face his two closest friends.

“Prep work’s finished. Everything’s packed ’n’ good to go.”

“Understood. Thank you, Gareth.”

“We were hoping to have a final meeting before heading out. We need to organize everyone into the two parties we’ll maintain until the eighteenth floor,” said Riveria.

Finn walked over, and they formed a circle. The three heads of Loki Familia quickly busied themselves making their final check before the expedition.

“How is everyone doing, Riveria?” Finn inquired, wrapping up their meeting.

“I worry about their constitution, considering how much they’ve been training lately…but I don’t see it becoming a problem. They’re all in top physical condition.”

“We got ourselves a bunch of young hot shots, that’s why. Morale is high.”

As voices began drifting in from the direction of the garden, Gareth crossed his arms in front of his chest, eyes narrowing.

“Aiz and the rest of the young’uns have finally grown up…Just us three fogies still around to remember what it was like back then,” he mused, thinking back to when their familia had first formed.

“We’re not retired yet, Gareth,” Riveria replied, closing her eyes with a smile.

As Finn looked up at the two of them, he felt his expression slowly change.

“The day has finally come. Today, we’ll take on the unexplored depths left to us by Zeus and Hera…If we prove successful, our names will be known across the world once more.”

There was a glimmer of steadfast resolve in the prum’s green eyes, the strong ambition to restore his race’s renown in the back of his mind.

“You haven’t had enough yet? There isn’t a prum around that doesn’t know your name, Finn,” Riveria commented.

Finn, however, just closed his eyes and shook his head.

“As far as famous prums in Orario, I know only Bringar of Freya Familia…But as for my brothers who live outside the city, I have very little renown.”

The number of prums with any sort of reputation in not only Orario but the whole world was few enough to be counted on one hand. As Finn relayed this, his eyes dropped to his fist.

“Prums need a chance to shine, an opportunity to wave their banner of courage.”

They had to have the kind of hope personified in Phiana, who had supported them since the Ancient Times.

And we’ll spare nothing, no matter the sacrifice, as long as it’s for the sake of that hope—his heart added.

“It doesn’t end here. No matter what awaits, I shall press forward.” Finn raised his head, resolve coursing through his petite figure.

Gareth looked down at the tiny adventurer and stroked his beard with a laugh.

“Good gracious…You really haven’t changed a bit, Finn. More ambition in those pint-size bones of yours than some men got in their whole bodies. And never givin’ a damn what others think about it, either!”

“And here I’ve been trying to mellow out,” Finn responded with his shoulders slouched.

“You, Finn? Don’t make me laugh!” Gareth’s lips turned upward together with his beard.

As Riveria gazed down at the two of them, a nostalgic look came over her. “…To think that the three of us who used to do nothing but quarrel among ourselves would spearhead a Dungeon crawl together. A funny world it is sometimes.”

The proud, versatile high elf; the crude, disparaging dwarf who hated her; and the prum stuck between them, a never-ending stream of sighs passing his lips.

As the three of them thought back to the days that led them to this moment, they shared a sudden smile.

“Let’s do this, yeah? It’ll be a breath of fresh air,” Gareth said, extending an arm.

Finn and Riveria, despite their wry smiles, imitated the dwarf and dropped their hands atop his in the center of their circle as though they had planned to.

The same ritual they’d performed so many moons ago on the day of their oath.

It was Loki who’d forcibly encouraged the three of them to put their bickering on hold long enough to join hands like this and share their aspirations.

“To heated battles.”

“To an unknown world.”

“To the revival of my race.”

The dwarf, elf, and prum spoke in turn before bumping their fists together.

Their intentions spoken, it was time to end their walk down memory lane and become the familia leaders they were.

“Aiz and the others will be waiting. Shall we go?” said Finn.

Riveria and Gareth nodded, and the three left the room.

“Speakin’ of…Finn, how goes, uh, that other objective of yours?”

“Yes, your successor…A bride who can produce an heir.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not exactly blessed when it comes to romance. If you two happen to find anyone nice, do introduce me?”

“Tione would murder me. I must politely decline,” replied Riveria.

“Same here, friend,” added Gareth.

The three demi-humans chatted idly with spear, ax, and staff in hand as they made their way over to their waiting comrades.

Sunlight poured down on Central Park from the clear blue sky above.

It was the intersection of Orario’s eight main streets, making it a hub for adventurers even in the early morning hours.

Armored boys, girls, and heroes alike passed through the square on their way to the Dungeon, their supporters trailing behind them. In the midst of the swarm of races on their way to the great white tower, Aiz, too, found herself heading toward that great skyscraper.

After gathering everything in front of the manor, Finn led the Loki Familia troupe to Central Park via North Main Street. Accompanied by load after giant load of equipment and materials, they stopped a short distance from Babel’s northern entrance and awaited further orders.

Even crying children were silenced by the sight of their flag, emblazoned with the emblem of the Trickster. As the largest familia in the city, they drew attention and buzz from all sides as they stood there waiting for the command to depart.

“Oh-ho-ho! If it isn’t the Sword Princess! Been a while since we crossed paths. How ya been?”

“Miss Tsubaki…”

Aiz was staring up at Babel and its backdrop of blue sky when Tsubaki’s voice sounded out next to her.

She glanced over to find Tsubaki Collbrande, ever-present eye patch over her left eye, closing in on her with an amiable smile on her face.

Just as Aiz was wearing armor and bearing her sword, Tsubaki was bedecked in her own Dungeon gear. Her armor was a mix of island and continent styles—bright-red pleated trousers from the East called hakama concealed her legs from the shins up, while battle clothes covered her upper torso and ample chest. On top of that, she wore gauntlets and shoulder protectors.

Her upper and lower halves were every bit a fusion of East and West.

At her side in its obsidian scabbard was her long tachi. Accompanying her were the many High Smiths who would be joining the expedition.

The confederation of Hephaistos Familia and Loki Familia was complete.

“It will be a pleasure working with you,” Aiz began, having been told by Riveria some time ago that the smiths would be joining them.

“You bet! Just leave things to me! No need for the fancy words, though! We’re itchin’ to get down there, too, so we’re scratching each other’s backs for sure,” Tsubaki responded good-naturedly, not even trying to hide her own familia’s intentions.

Aiz could only smile wryly at the other woman’s boisterous laughter.

All of a sudden, Tsubaki looked away with an “Oh!” of surprise.

“There you are, Bete Loga! You break that Frosvirt of yers again, and I’ll never forgive you, ya hear? I had a hell of a time fixin’ it!”

“Whoa, whoa, whooooa there! I hear ya loud and clear, okay? I won’t break it! Damn! Get away from me!”

Eyes locked on Bete, Tsubaki made a beeline toward him. He cried out, beads of sweat dotting his temples as the smirking woman closed the gap between them far too much for his comfort.

Aiz looked on curiously as the fearless spectacle drew the awed gazes of everyone around them, only to be approached by a new shadow.

“How fares the Sword Princess, hmm?”

“…Miss Lulune?” Aiz turned around to find herself face-to-face with the young chienthrope girl. She stared at her in puzzlement, with no clue as to what a member of Hermes Familia would be doing there. “Why are you here…?”

“Thought I’d wish you well and all on your expedition, I guess. You have saved me more than a couple of times in the past.” Apparently she’d determined just when the two familias would have some free time before departing for the Dungeon and timed her entrance accordingly. Though she quickly added that she had no intention of overstaying her visit lest she trouble the actual expedition participants.

“Take these. A little something to eat I like to bring with me when I’m exploring ruins. One of these’ll keep you full for a whole day. And, uh, don’t worry—there’s nothing weird in ’em or anything.”

“…Thank you.” Aiz smiled softly at the offered pouch of block-shaped rations.

While members of both familias were currently absorbed in the exchange happening between Bete and Tsubaki, Lulune plopped the bag into Aiz’s hand—with an unexpected clink.

Concealed beneath the bag was a single crystal.

“From our friend in the black robes,” she whispered so softly only Aiz could hear.

“!” Aiz’s eyes widened with a start.

“Black robes” could mean only one person—the hooded character Aiz and Lulune had both been seeing more and more of recently.

Aiz had trouble containing her surprise as she looked down at the blue crystal—a request from the mysterious shaman.

“I checked it out already with Asfi, and it seems pretty normal…Seems our friend just wants you to have it on the fifty-ninth floor, is all,” the thief explained, recounting what she’d been told as she discreetly handed Aiz the crystal. “Toss it if you want. Your call.” After she finished speaking, Lulune took a step back.

Aiz found herself at a loss, which only made Lulune laugh, her brow wrinkling.

“I really did just wanna come see you off, though, you know…even if it may not seem like it with the request and all. Once you come back, we’ll go for that drink, got it?” Her tanned skin flushing slightly, she brought a finger up to sheepishly scratch at her cheek. “Catch ya later!” she finished before turning around and walking off with a swish of her tail.

Aiz watched her disappear into the crowd, then she returned her gaze to the pouch—and crystal.

The orb itself was tiny and blue, connected to a chain. After a moment’s glance, Aiz fastened it to the loin guard of her armor.

Did she completely trust that hooded figure? No. But this was a good-luck charm given to her by a friend who came all the way down here to see her off.

The little blue crystal glittered atop the silver gleam of her loin guard.

“Was that Miss Lulune just now? What could she have wanted with Miss Aiz?”

Lefiya ruminated on this as she caught a glimpse of the exchange between Lulune and Aiz.

Surrounded by Tiona and Tione—who were endlessly chattering—and the other familia members, Lefiya cocked her head to the side in curiosity.

“Miss Lefiya!”

“Hmm? Miss Amid?” She turned around to find a beautiful silver-haired human with features so delicate they resembled a doll’s.

The Dian Cecht Familia healer bowed her head, having joined the group via Northwest Main Street.

“I couldn’t be here waiting for you on account of Miach—I mean, a certain familia taking up my time with their new merchandise contract, but it seems I’ve still made it on time. This is for you.”

“Are these…potions?”

“They are, indeed. Our very own high-magic potions.”

Amid handed her a small pouch filled with a variety of test tubes.

At the surprised expression on Lefiya’s face, she continued. “A farewell gift for your expedition, yes?”

“Amid! You came to see us off! But what gives? How come only Lefiya gets a gift?” Tiona butted in, overhearing Lefiya and Amid’s conversation.

“Surely someone like you doesn’t need potions, Miss Tiona,” Amid responded with a little snicker.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“I was merely joking,” the healer replied before she pulled out an even larger pouch than the one she’d given Lefiya. “You’ll find a few high potions and elixirs inside. Share them with everyone, would you?”

“Thank you, Amid. This is wonderful. And so many, too,” Tione replied appreciatively, to which Amid only shook her head.

The kindhearted healer looked at each of them in turn before offering them a deep bow.

“May the fortunes of war shine upon you,” she said before taking her leave.

Lefiya, Tiona, and Tione glanced down at the healing items they’d received before raising their voices in thanks.

All around them, too, similar exchanges were taking place.

Personal acquaintances and friends alike showed up to send off their Loki Familia comrades with a smile and a few words of encouragement.

Humans and demi-humans from all around were there to support and salute the adventurers on their journey to the unknown.

“Brothers! Sisters! The expedition begins now!” Finn called out from in front of the assemblage.

Everyone turned to face the familia leader, Babel to his back and Gareth and Riveria to either side.

“We’ll be splitting into two parties as we enter the Dungeon! Riveria and I will lead the first, and Gareth will be leading the second! We’ll rendezvous on the eighteenth floor and continue together to the fiftieth floor! Our goal? To venture into the unexplored depths—the fifty-ninth floor!”

Everyone’s ears—Bete’s, Tiona’s, Tione’s, Lefiya’s, Tsubaki’s—buzzed with Finn’s proclamation.

As Aiz joined the others watching the three familia leaders, her mind was already racing at the thought of what awaited them in the den of monsters beneath that great white tower.

Within the Dungeon’s dark depths below the earth.

“You are adventurers! Warriors no less brave than the heroes of old! Conquer the vast unknown and return with fame and fortune!”

From the main streets, the square, in every corner and window, citizens, adventurers, and everyone else in Orario watched over them, eager to see Loki Familia’s departure.

“Sacrifices will lead to nothing but false honor! Everyone, pray with me now! Make an oath to the light of the surface—you will come back alive!”

As the members of both familias raised their fists, Finn sucked in his breath. Then, as though communing their short departure with the blue sky stretched out above their heads, he gave the order.

“Expedition team—move out!”

Their battle cry shook the very heavens.

Aiz stared at the sky overhead, surrounded by the shouting cries of her peers.

Loki Familia’s expedition had begun.

“This is gonna be interestin’!”

The manor’s central tower…

Having sent Finn and the others off from their home earlier, Loki now stood on the roof, looking toward the city’s center as the cries of war echoed around her.

“Could it be calamity that awaits them? Or perhaps…”

The underground shrine beneath Guild Headquarters…

Ouranos turned his brine-colored eyes skyward as the torchlights flickered around him.

“Yes…Show me.”

And atop the highest floor of the great white tower.

Unbeknownst to all, the beautiful goddess smiled down on them.

Thus, the threads of a new Dungeon epic were spun beneath the gaze of the gods.

The majority of the two factions’ heavy hitters were in the vanguard party—the first team to dive into the Dungeon.

Given how unpredictable the Dungeon was, it would be their job to take care of any Irregulars that popped up along their route. They would act as advance troops, ensuring the safety of the heart of the expedition by clearing the way for the party following them with the materials and spare equipment.

Those on the vanguard team led by Finn and Riveria included Aiz, Bete, Tiona, Tione, and seven more of the familia’s most distinguished first-tier adventurers. They were joined by a slew of second-tier adventurers, such as Raul, who’d be acting as supporters.

Gareth, the remaining first-tier adventurer, as well as Lefiya and the other magic users, would follow behind in the second larger party.

“Hey, hey, Tione! What are all those people from other familias doin’ here? They’re not, like, supporters we’ve hired or something, are they?” Tiona asked, glancing behind her. The two parties had split to avoid the chaos of the narrow upper-floor passageways as they made their way into the Dungeon. She’d only just now noticed Hephaistos Familia smiths traveling along behind them.

“Don’t be an idiot, Tiona. Have you already forgotten what happened during our last expedition?” her sister replied in exasperation.

“?”

“They’re smiths, Tiona,” Riveria explained with a great deal more politeness.

“Ah!” Tiona burst out, suddenly understanding. Considering she’d played no part in the expedition preparations—and consequently knew nothing of the trouble that had gone into them—she’d had no idea members of Hephaistos Familia would be joining them.

Ten Hephaistos Familia smiths had joined the fifteen Loki Familia adventurers. The smiths had been split up between the two parties with their captain, Tsubaki, accompanying their current group as a member of the vanguard.

“That’s pretty crazy, though, you know? Hephaistos Familia High Smiths? Together with us?”

“Yes, and Lady Hephaistos is doing us a big favor, so let’s try and avoid any blunders, hmm, Tiona?” Finn responded with an amused laugh, watching the girl spin about excitedly at the news of their new companions. He’d been the one who’d gone to Hephaistos directly, after all.

“I know, I know!” Tiona replied with a laugh of her own as she sprinted ahead to wrap her arms around Aiz’s shoulders from behind. “Did you hear that, Aiz? Huh? Huh? High Smiths from Hephaistos Familia are joining us!”

“Yes, I heard…Pretty neat,” she responded playfully to the naive Amazon hanging off her back. Like the others, Aiz already knew that the smiths would be joining them, but she couldn’t keep a smile from gracing her lips at Tiona’s enthusiasm.

They soon arrived at the Dungeon’s seventh floor.

Surrounded by the greenish walls and ceilings of the Dungeon’s passageways, they continued along unhindered, their cheer almost strange considering the fact they were on an expedition.

“Hell yeah! If they’re from Hephaistos Familia, we at least don’t hafta worry about them slowin’ us down! What a relief!” Bete bellowed next to them, his ears twitching, which garnered a laugh from the High Smiths behind them.

“There it is! Bete’s famous ego!”

Tiona narrowed her eyes at the werewolf’s pompous grin.

“Is it even possible for you to be nice, Bete? Do you get some kinda thrill looking down on everyone else? I hate people like that!”

“You got it all wrong! You actually think I like looking down on bottom-feeders? Don’t make me laugh! All I do is call it like I see it,” Bete responded with a snort, explaining himself the same way he’d done for Loki only the night before.

Still attached to Aiz’s back, Tiona let out a squawk of anger that sounded very much like a monkey.

The werewolf’s goading only elicited angered grumbles from those around them.

This was a sight they were more than used to.

“What can I say? I can’t stand weaklings! Lookin’ at ’em floundering away makes me laugh so hard I can’t stop!”

“That sounds like nothing but the arrogance of a strong man looking down his nose at others,” Riveria responded.

Tiona added, “True! You were one of those ‘weaklings’ once, too, you know!”

“I’m just sayin’ they need to know their place, is all!”

As Aiz listened to the three of them squabble, a thought came to her mind.

Know your place—the thought morphed into words that she muttered beneath her breath.

One’s place. It was neither pitying, nor insulting, nor shocking. It was simply something you knew.

It was the same thing that had been hammered into that boy so many times he’d verbally renounced his place. What had been running through his head? How had he felt? What was it that had pushed him to that point?

She thought of those rubellite eyes she’d seen back at the bar, liable to burst into tears at a moment’s notice.

How had he overcome things after being looked down on, scorned, spit on by Bete? Or perhaps it was that very contempt that spurred him forward?

Had he hated himself so much that his anger became a spring, propelling him steadfastly, obstinately higher and higher?

Wait, could it be—?!

What if that boy’s goal he “needed to accomplish at all costs” included Bete somehow?

For some reason, the shock hit her with a slam! She found herself suddenly unable to support Tiona’s weight, staggering forward. Ignoring the other girl’s curious expression, Aiz attempted to keep her knees from collapsing.

I’ll have to ask him sometime…she thought even as her hair stood on end at the possibility she had stumbled upon. She lowered her gaze, memories of her past week with the boy trickling through her mind.

I wonder what he’s doing right now…

Perhaps he was still running the same as he always was.

Maybe fighting with the things she’d taught him in his thoughts.

His face flashed through her mind, just a little bit tougher than it had been before, when suddenly, her head shot up with a snap.

“…Seems like there’s four of them.”

“Huh? Is this what they mean when they say ‘speak of the devil’?”

Tiona, who was still glued to Aiz, and Bete both reacted.

Everyone’s eyes turned toward the right-hand side of the oncoming intersection, where four adventurers quickly drew near, looking decidedly worse for wear.

They were throwing furtive glances behind them, almost as if they were running away from something.

“Hmmmm? They look in a hurry. Think we should see what’s wrong?”

“No. Parties aren’t supposed to interfere with one another within the Dungeon.”

“Hey, guuuuys! What’s up?!” Tiona called out to the quartet, ignoring her sister’s restraint.

“…Idiot.”

Finally noticing Aiz and the others, the surprised adventurers came to a halt in front of them.

“Wh-who’re you? W-wait a minute! The Amazon?!”

“Is that Tiona Hyrute?!”

“Which can only mean…Loki Familia! I-it’s their expedition!”

Upon realizing their identity, the quartet immediately began shrinking back.

“Come ooon! Why is it always me…?” Tiona grumbled to herself at the use of her alias and the fear behind it. The speaker’s eyes were still fixated on her.

Bete, on the other hand, turned to the four to ask what they were doing.

They were briefly indignant at the werewolf’s scornful inquiry…but then they seemed to remember their situation, bodies giving a tremble.

“…There was a minotaur!”

“…Huh?”

“A minotaur, you fool! That great bull of a monster was prowling around the upper levels!”

Bete came to an immediate stop at the adventurer’s strangled, cracking voice.

The others, too, were overcome with a kind of shocked pallor. For a mid-level boss to be appearing on the upper levels was an irregularity, indeed.

Aiz felt her right arm begin to tremble at the mere mention of the word minotaur.

For some reason, the image of Bell’s face welled up inside her once more.

“…I apologize, but could you perhaps give us some more details? Please tell us exactly what you saw,” Finn said, speaking for the rest of the group.

“S-sure…” replied what seemed to be the leader of the quartet before beginning his story. “We were exploring the Dungeon, same as always, when we saw him—a minotaur! In one of the passageways between the rooms,” he continued, face pale. “He was…attacking some kid with white hair! We’d have done something, but one howl from that beast and we got the hell outta there!”

—BA-DUMP.

Aiz’s heart gave a jump inside her chest.

It felt like her entire body was suddenly soaked in sweat.

Forgetting to breathe, she desperately tried to comprehend the words she’d just heard.

A kid with white hair…a human?

The more they spoke, the fiercer, more painfully her heart pounded.

No longer able to keep herself out of the conversation, she pushed toward the adventurers.

“The minotaur! Where is it?”

At the sound of her voice, everyone stopped.

Tiona, Tione, the adventurers, and the entire expedition.

Time itself seemed to come to a halt before the swordswoman’s bloodcurdling gaze.

“Where did you see that adventurer being attacked? Tell me!”

“Th-the ninth floor…but you’ll have to hurry…”

She ran.

No sooner had the words reached her ears than she was off, racing at lightning speed down the passageway the adventurers had come from.

“Aiz?!”

“What the hell are you doing?!”

But Tiona and Bete were already far behind her.

Ignoring her comrades, forgetting the expedition entirely, she listened to only the accelerated pounding of her heart.

She was spurred on by emotion, by confusion, by a sense of impending danger.

That thing—it’s attacking him!

She didn’t have time to check if the information was true or not. All she could do was run, her feet slamming against the earth.

Bisecting any monsters unlucky enough to get in her way, she didn’t falter, didn’t lose steam. Straying from the standard route, she found herself on the aforementioned ninth floor in the blink of an eye.

The moment the Dungeon’s walls changed, an unnatural silence struck her ears.

Total quiet.

As though every monster had hidden itself away and stilled its breath in fear of some maverick beast.

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than the roar of a crazed bull echoed through the far-off passageway, confirming her fears.

No!!

In the midst of the fading cry came the faint sound of a person’s scream. Aiz felt her blood begin to boil.

There was no doubt about it. That was Bell being attacked.

A Level 1 adventurer like him would be helpless against the minotaur. No matter how much he’d trained with Aiz, the levels of their abilities were worlds apart.

She was fighting against the clock now. Every second counted.

Still uncertain as to the boy’s exact location, she relied solely on sound as she sprinted through the maze—only to come face-to-face with a prum covered in blood.

“?!”

“P-please…H-help…!”

Blood poured from the gaping wound on her forehead. As she let out her desperate plea, she slumped to the ground at Aiz’s feet.

Tears clouding her unfocused chestnut eyes, she placed her hands on the ground and continued with a haggard bellow.

“P-please save him! Save Master Bell!”

“!!”

Grief flooding through her, Aiz knelt down to take the girl into her arms.

“Where is he?”

“On the…standard route…Room E-16…” She lifted a trembling hand to point in the direction behind her, relaying the area number designated by the Guild’s map data. And, indeed, droplets of blood speckled the ground, highlighting the path the prum had taken in her search for help.

Aiz took off with a grunt, carrying the girl in her arms.

She raced past room after room, the passageway’s phosphorescent glow lighting her path.

“Help…Please…” Continual, incoherent mumbles came from the prum in her arms. Aiz tightened her grip, fingers digging into the girl’s side and heart weeping as she followed the trail of blood.

Just when she’d plunged into the final room before her destination—

“—Stop.”

There came a single command.

“—”

At that one word, Aiz screeched to a halt.

She was in a large rectangular chamber devoid of monsters or her fellow adventurers. There was only him, standing in the middle of the room.

His mighty, armored frame like a megalith. His height spanning well over two meders.

His four brawny limbs rippling with muscles like steel.

A pair of boar-like ears, evidence of his boaz heritage, underneath his cropped rust-colored hair.

And his eyes, the same color as his hair, directed straight at Aiz.

“…The Warlord.”

Aiz’s eyes flashed as she took in the sight before her.

As though in response to Aiz’s hoarse whisper, the man’s eyes narrowed.

The captain of Freya Familia—Ottar.

A first-tier adventurer and the mortal enemy of Loki Familia.

Why is he here—?

Aiz found herself at a loss, unable to comprehend the situation.

It didn’t make any sense. What was he doing here, and why would he be trying to impede her way?

As the weak breaths of the girl in her arms reached her ears, an uncharacteristic level of emotion permeated Aiz’s features.

The boaz warrior was simply standing authoritatively in the center of the room.

He was in front of the only road leading to her destination, his giant back blocking the entrance to the passageway. His armor was unbelievably thick, and an enormous knapsack was slung from his left shoulder.

As their gazes intertwined, he took a hold of the bag with his boulder-like fingers and tore it from his back.

Clang, clang, clang! From the torn cloth rained a multitude of weapons, falling to the ground with a ferocious series of clatters.

“I challenge you…Sword Princess.”

“?!”

Aiz’s bewilderment became all the more apparent.

Ottar, on the other hand, simply reached down to grab a giant sword from the pile and silently pulled it from its sheath.

“Why are you doing this?!”

“Does one need a reason to kill a longstanding enemy when coming face-to-face with her in the Dungeon?”

There wasn’t a hint of trepidation in his steely voice.

At a time like this?! Just as Aiz’s mind raced to figure out what the boaz could be thinking, a sudden thought flashed through her head—the attack from three days ago and its accompanying warning.

“You’d do well not to do anything rash from now on.”

“If you refuse to listen, we’ll be forced to take drastic measures.”

“Dig too deep and we can’t guarantee your life.”

“If you get in her way—we’ll kill you.”

Vana Freya, Bringar, and now the Warlord.

They all belonged to one familia and had given the same warning.

It can’t be, it can’t be, it can’t be.

Their objective was none other than—

“Drop the girl.” Ottar’s eyes pierced through the prum in Aiz’s arms as he readied his greatsword. “Or she’ll die.”

An intense intimidating aura swelled up around him. There would be no escaping a fight now.

From his stance alone, it was clear he wasn’t letting anyone through. Aiz curled her lips in resentment but did as she was told.

Placing the girl on the ground, she pulled Desperate from its scabbard.

She could no longer let her attention be divided. Carrying baggage into a battle would do nothing but ensure her defeat.

The soldier in front of her was stronger than Finn, Gareth, or Riveria—he was truly the strongest adventurer in all of Orario.

The reigning crown. The sole Level 7.

The Warlord—Ottar.

“Come, Sword Princess,” he beckoned, his voice backed by the roar of the ferocious bull in the passageway behind him.

Aiz’s golden eyes flashed as she sliced the air in front of her with her sword.

“Stand aside!”

The roars of the bull and the screams of the boy ringing in her ears, driving her forward, she charged.

It was the Sword Princess versus the Warlord.

The battle between the two strongest first-tier adventurers in Orario had begun.

She launched herself into it full force, unembellished.

A diagonal cut from the shoulder, so fast it was barely perceptible.

“—Tepid.”

“!!”

The boaz deflected her full-powered attack with his large sword as if Desperate were nothing more than a twig.

Her body off-balance from the ricochet, she suppressed her awe, allowing the momentum of her deflected sword to spin her around for another attack.

But once more, it was blocked.

Sparks flew. She gave up on finesse and simply went for speed.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrggggghhh—!!”

Her sword struck again and again in a merciless string of attacks.

The boy was in danger. Her mask had been discarded—she was the Sword Princess now, and the rousing flurry of sword slashes elicited a mighty yell from the depths of her throat.

Each and every one of her countless strikes was a killing blow as she bared her fangs at Ottar.

She was a Level 6 now, and she had the Status to prove it.

Pouring every ounce of her top-class strength and speed into her strikes, she showered the man in front of her with silver sparks.

“Those moves—ah, yes. You did recently reach a new level, didn’t you?”

“—”

But still, she was blocked.

Every single one of her attacks was turned aside.

His defense was impenetrable.

Against the onslaught of inescapable strikes, Ottar still shot her down.

Without even taking a step, he summoned pinpoint accuracy and mountain-like fortitude to render each of her attacks useless with naught but the sword in his right hand.

Desperate let out high-pitched screams as it got knocked about. She had to wonder how the soldier even knew about her level-up considering it had never been officially announced, but she quickly suppressed such thoughts.

With a slash that sliced through the very air itself, Ottar’s sword drove her away.

“~~~~~~~~~~~!”

She barely managed to slip Desperate between the other sword and her chest, but it still hurled her backward with the force of a rushing river.

Her feet dug into the ground. When she was finally able to bring herself to a stop, she found herself directly in front of the young prum girl she’d left on the ground. As she let her eyes follow the path she’d taken, her thoughts became a mix of astonishment and terror.

In that single defensive blow, he’d sent her back more than ten meders.

“—Ngh!”

But she didn’t allow herself to remain dazed for long. Taking up her sword once more, she began her attack anew.

There was no time to gawk. No time to delay.

Her enemy was blocking that passage of shadows, and she would give everything it took to reach it.

She attacked from the side, from below, trying every angle she could to get through that impenetrable defense.

“Just how strong will you become, Sword Princess?”

“…?!”

His sword met hers, bigger yet somehow faster than her Desperate. She tried moving, feinting, and attacking from every possible direction, but the impregnable fortress remained unscathed.

Aiz couldn’t contain a shudder at the contrast between his words and attacks.

His sword skills were terrifying enough as it was, but adding to them the pure power of his physical abilities made them all the more so. It was as though she’d changed places with Bell, no longer the teacher but the student.

He really was a megalith.

He didn’t so much as twitch at Aiz’s amped-up speed or the hurricane of sword strikes that came with it.

Like a mighty boulder amid the raging wind, he was calm and composed.

He was a wall, and the wall wouldn’t budge. Guarding the path behind him, he refused to take even a single step, repelling Aiz’s attacks time and time again but never instigating any of his own.

This…This is…!

A Level 7.

No—this is the Warlord.

It had nothing to do with levels, but the brute strength of one well-trained warrior. Aiz bit down on her lip.

“Nngh!”

With a loud noise, she was pushed backward, landing a ways away. Once again, the gap between them had widened.

This happened four times in the span of a single minute.

Her hand was already starting to tingle around the hilt of her sword. Gaze fixated on the expressionless boaz, her eyes flashed.

—I have to get through.

—I need to save him!

—I refuse to let him die!

Without revealing her connection with the boy, she used it as an impetus to kick off from the ground, becoming the wind.

She unleashed the magic she’d sworn to herself never to use against another person.

“Awaken, Tempest!!”

She was on fire.

She would do anything to reach the boy.

Wreathed in the blessing of the wind, halfway into her charge she disappeared into the gale.

The time for hesitation was gone. She lunged toward the soldier in front of her, holding nothing back.

“Nngh!!”

The gale strike screamed from her sword.

Ottar’s rust-colored eyes narrowed sharply, his hand turning into a blur.

The first strike was blocked.

Her eyes widened at the sight of his sword meeting Desperate, but she didn’t stop there.

The current still flowed through her, and her next strike came at him like a literal storm.

They clashed head-on.

“—”

Aiz could barely believe what happened next.

Her enemy followed her every move, her every raging wave, and deflected each and every gale-like strike.

His sword absorbed the shock of her violent tempest. Though his enormous frame trembled slightly at the fury of her raging winds, he refused to retreat or stand down. Even when it seemed he would give in or that she had the upper hand, his incredible maneuvers, gargantuan strength, and even the gauntlet on his left hand all worked in sync to create continuous blocks and attacks.

The extraordinary feat of technique and strategy shut out Aiz’s storm in its entirety.

Their levels of experience were simply too different.

Not even her Airiel, the magic that could put their abilities on the same playing field, the blessed winds that had helped her overcome countless battlefields before, could daunt him.

It was a cultivated mind and body that separated them.

Endless training substantiated with physical ability and combat skill.

—There’s no end to this.

As her flurry of strikes continued, each one punctuated with a tempestuous screech, Aiz found herself in awe of the soldier’s features.

There had never before been an opponent she couldn’t best once she unleashed the power of her wind—save that monster hybrid Levis, whose mere existence surpassed human knowledge.

But even she was paling in comparison to the boaz before Aiz now.

This wasn’t just endless, it was preposterous.

He was practically a god.

This talent, this steadfast exertion, this unwavering determination—he was every bit the modern-day hero.

Ottar the Warlord was, beyond a doubt, the epitome of greatness.

“Hnngh!”

“Guhh—!”

Not missing a beat, the flash of Ottar’s sword caught her armor of wind.

With one direct attack, he overcame her current and Desperate, cleaving all the way to Aiz herself.

The staggering force carved Aiz’s thin frame into the Dungeon floor. Once more, she was propelled backward, fists clawing at the ground, hurtling over the top of the downed prum girl until finally—she hit the wall.

Stepping away from the edge of the room, she set aside her sword.

The current was with her. Her golden eyes pierced the soldier on the other side of the room, the man himself bewildered by her response.

She would use it. She would finally use it. Her secret weapon.

The voices—?

From deep, deep within that passageway of darkness…

The voices had stopped.

The constant roar of the mad bull, the desperate cries of the boy fighting for his life—all of it.

Aiz’s face contorted like a child on the verge of tears. She found the hilt of her sword once more, gripping it tightly.

—Out of my WAY!

Heart screaming, she cast her trump card.

“—Li’l Rafaga!!”

The wind flashed.

A divine wind shot forward, making a beeline toward Ottar, so massive that it could never be used outside the Dungeon walls.

The speed at which that leviathan wind sliced through the room made Ottar’s eyes widen.

Muscles protruding from his massive shoulders, he gripped his sword in both hands.

The boaz soldier swung his great silver weapon down diagonally at the incoming strike.

“Huuurrrrrraaaaaaaaaaahh—!”

He roared.

Voice exploding from his throat like the crazed call of a monster, he met the cyclone head-on.

It was the first time the soldier was forced to use both hands, to rely on his full strength.

Aiz’s vision became a blur of wind, and she saw Ottar’s armor get torn from his frame.

The impact was incredible. As the air current raged and the ground sank beneath his feet, a tremendous explosion rocked the room.

The recoil from the resulting shock wave sent both of them flying.

The two attacks had neutralized each other.

“…”

Aiz looked up in a daze from where she’d landed on her rear end in the middle of the room.

The control she’d been able to keep over her strength for so long, the promise she’d made to herself never to use it against another person—

—She’d broken it.

She’d used her finishing move.

Her pure, unfiltered strength.

“…”

Ottar silently peeled himself off the passageway wall before returning to his place in front of the entrance.

He’d lost his armor, a section of his battle clothes was ripped, and scrapes littered his cheeks and shoulders, but that was it.

Tossing aside his sword, now heavily damaged, he grabbed a new one from its place poking out of the ground.

The wall towered over them, calm and composed.

The single path behind him was still so far, far away.

“…Ngh!”

She didn’t let the shock afflict her for more than a moment.

Grabbing Desperate from where it had stabbed into the floor, she renewed her charge.

Ottar responded in kind, his sword at the ready.

“Let me through!”

Sweat flying, she cut at him ruthlessly with unrelenting strikes of her blade.

Ottar didn’t respond. It was only through his continued ripostes that he made his resolve known.

The armor-less, injured soldier versus the unscathed yet single-mindedly slashing girl.

Step after step, their violent dance continued in an attempt to see who would yield first—when suddenly…

“—?!”

Thunk! There was the sound of someone leaping, and Aiz saw a shadow fly over her head, straight toward Ottar.

Down came the double-edge blade with a ferocious, air-splitting slice. The boaz responded in surprise, raising his sword to meet it.

“What in the world is goin’ on here?!” Tiona cried out in surprise after landing back on the ground, her attack deflected. She wasted no time setting her sights on her companion’s opponent.

Aiz could do nothing but stare in shock at the Amazonian girl who’d caught up with her, flourishing her oversize weapon.

“The Amazon…!”

Aiz took off at once, as the berserker immediately prepared her next attack, and for the first time a crease formed between Ottar’s brows. His defense was already shaken by the sheer destructive power of the Amazon’s Urga, and he was late in responding to the incoming rain of sword strikes.

His endurance waned. He grabbed for his third sword—a long one, this time—and wielded it in his left hand as he used it to push back the leaping Tiona.

Only…

As soon as she was gone, he was met with another shadow, this one speeding toward him along the ground. Ottar gritted his teeth.

“Boar bastard—!”

It was Bete this time, delivering a full-bodied kick to the man he’d always considered his rival.

Ottar raced to defend himself. No sooner had he blocked the kick than he was met by a pair of whirling Kukri knives.

“Gnngh…!”

“What in the world is going on here?!” demanded Tione in a voice identical to her sister’s as she joined the fray.

It was four against one now. A trio of first-tier reinforcements.

It reminded Aiz of her moonlit battle against the black-clad attackers, only now it was time for the city’s strongest adventurer to experience the relentless waves of attacks from Loki Familia.

From Urga’s wild swinging to Frosvirt’s incessant thrusts to the quick, intersecting slashes of the Kukri knives.

Even the impenetrable defense of the unshakable Level 7 was liable to start coming apart at the seams.

“Nngh!”

Aiz took advantage of that split-second opening and dashed forward.

She dived toward that single gap behind the boaz’s mighty frame.

“—Oooaaaarrrggh!!” With lightning-fast reflexes, Ottar steered his longsword toward the side of Aiz’s head—

Only to find a pair of fang-like silver boots digging into his steely arm.

“Just try and look away from me, porky!”

“Vanargand…?!”

Bete’s kick effectively put a stop to Ottar’s attack.

Riding on the assistance of her companions, Aiz charged, disappearing down the passage the boaz had been so adamantly guarding.

—I’m through!

Scraping together every last ounce of strength she could muster, she raced down the path.

“…!”

Ottar’s features distorted upon witnessing the golden-haired, golden-eyed girl rush past him.

As he staved off the incoming attacks of Tiona and her friends, the natural-born soldier could tell already that even if he were to follow in immediate pursuit, there was no way he could overcome the godlike speed of the Sword Princess before she reached her destination.

“And here I was just thinking that my thumb was awfully itchy. I suppose this is all part of the bargain, as well?” The voice of a boy came from the direction of the standard route leading to the eighth floor, directly opposite the opening Ottar and the others were occupying.

The boaz narrowed his eyes at the blond prum and his long spear.

“Hey, Ottar.” Finn posed, almost as though greeting an old friend.

“…Finn?” Ottar silently lowered his weapon.

Around him, the trio of first-tier adventurers remained at the ready. From behind Finn emerged another—a high elf of unparalleled beauty.

Realizing he was more than outnumbered, the boaz conceded, his fighting spirit gone.

Their opponent having lost his malice, Tiona, followed by Bete, took off after Aiz down the passageway.

“Riveria! Help that prum girl!” she called.

“We still have no idea what the hell is even going on!” Bete shouted.

“Y-you two…!”

As Tione’s face twitched at her sister’s (and comrade’s) temerity, Finn and Ottar faced each other. The two familia captains began to speak. Tione couldn’t leave the one she cared so much about, and Riveria was already at work tending to the blood-covered prum.

“As Bete so eloquently put it, I’m still a bit foggy as to what’s going on here. Would you mind filling me in on why exactly you chose this time and this place to take up arms against us, Ottar?”

“There’s no incorrect time and place to challenge an enemy.”

“Indeed. Then would it be safe to take this as the will of not only your familia but your god, as well? Is Lady Freya hoping for all-out war between us?” Finn asked with a smile, to which Ottar remained silent.

The sharpened tip of the prum’s spear gleamed in the Dungeon’s light.

“…I was acting independently,” he finally uttered, voice low.

Abandoning his weapons, he began walking forward. Even as Tione’s eyes narrowed into tiny points, he proceeded toward Finn and the others undeterred.

He walked right past Finn, Tione, and Riveria, who had finished casting her healing magic on the downed prum and was waiting beside Finn with one eye closed.

“So long as you’re going to form your little clique, I’ve no chance of winning,” the boaz said coolly the moment he passed them by.

“Good to know. We’re not keen on taking up arms against you, either,” Finn replied.

Saying nothing else, Ottar made his exit, taking the same path Finn and the others had.

He proceeded down the narrow, dim passageway, leaving his long-standing foes behind.

“This failure will come back to haunt you,” he muttered to himself, still losing blood from the abrasions littering his body and his fist curled as tight as a boulder. The self-condemning words dripped with profound significance.

Eyes pointed straight ahead, he didn’t look back.

“We’ll just say you were oblivious to your own incompetence.”

From behind him came the far-off roar of a crazed bull echoing throughout the Dungeon, accompanied by the shouts of a certain set of adventurers.

“Remove your shell, renounce all others, and confront the adventure. Focus on nothing but the path ahead.”

His eyes flashed at these final words.

“Only then can you win her favor.”

Light up ahead was leaking its way into the single dim passageway.

“…!”

Aiz hastened at the sight, and she practically flew down the path.

Plunging into the room, her field of vision expanded instantly, eyes first locking on to the minotaur in the middle of the room, and then the boy lying faceup on the ground a good distance away.

Aiz’s breath caught in her throat.

The minotaur making its way toward the boy quickly became aware of Aiz’s presence. At the same time, Aiz checked the boy for signs of life; relief flooded through her when she confirmed the faint rise and fall of his chest.

A flurry of emotions welled up in her own chest, but she pushed everything away and became the Sword Princess again in an instant, steering her gaze toward the minotaur.

…?!

The aberrant beast, equipped with an adventurer’s sword, came to a stop at Aiz’s overwhelming intensity, its fur bristling.

She didn’t even pause to ascertain the situation. She rushed forward, placing herself in the bull’s path with her back to the downed boy.

The remnants of her Airiel created a soft breeze, fluttering the leaves of the flowers growing from the room’s floor.

“—”

She felt a presence behind her. A gasp.

The boy had woken up, no doubt. Tossing aside her grief and sorrow, she reinforced her grip on the hilt of her sword and stared daggers at the bull in front of her.

“G-guwoh!” came the clearly terrified noise from the monster, to which Aiz did not respond.

Her silence revealed the anger in her armor-clad chest.

And as that anger built, her current began to dance as well, stirring the grasses of the room with tiny, subtle shudders.

The spirit of her honed blade swirled together with the wind.

“There she is! Aiiiiiiiz!”

“Tch, all that for this boring thing?”

Tiona and Bete, quickly followed by her sister and the others, made their way into the room, footsteps echoing and eyes veering toward the minotaur.

Aiz still had no idea what was going on. What were Ottar and the rest of Freya Familia trying to pull? Had they somehow tamed the minotaur? She did know one thing, though—she would take care of this monster and she would do it now. She wasn’t about to let the boy be injured further.

Rustle, rustle.

There was a sudden fluttering from the grasses directly behind her.

Throwing a quick glance behind her, she saw the dazed boy, the worn-out Bell, pushing himself up to a sitting position.

“…Are you all right?”

—Are you all right?

Just like the first time they’d met.

She’d said the same thing to him when she saved him from the minotaur.

A sigh of relief passed between her lips.

“…You fought well.”

—You fought very well.

Slightly different this time.

Back then, she’d added a few words of praise and sympathy, the boy having survived his fight against the minotaur.

Kindness filled her heart.

“I’ll take care of things now.”

—And take that thing out.

Canceling her magic, she instead directed all her power into the sword in her hand.

But the moment her foot touched the ground to rush forward…

Suddenly…

Huh?

A resounding thump rang from the ground.

And it wasn’t from Aiz.

It wasn’t from the minotaur, either. Or from Tiona and the others.

Thud, came the noise from someone.

And they were right behind her.

As they kicked themselves up from the grass.

“?!”

Aiz spun around. At the same time, a hand grasped hers.

Her golden eyes widened in surprise.

He was standing.

The boy had recovered and risen to his feet.

Despite the cuts littering his body, his rubellite eyes were glinting, staring past Aiz and focusing on the minotaur.

She could feel the heat radiating off his hand, currently clasped tightly in her own.

“…No.”

Aiz gazed in astonishment as he pulled her back.

Propelled by sheer will, he advanced in front of her.

“I don’t need Aiz Wallenstein to save me anymore!” he bellowed from the depths of his lungs.

As though showing off. As though declaring his will. As though hoisting the flag of his unyielding ambition.

At the sight of the boy, obsidian knife readied in his hand, the minotaur’s eyes widened—before crinkling in savage mirth.

Coming to some kind of accord with the boy, it turned its large sword in Bell’s direction.

Why? How…?!

This was unbelievable.

Aiz had told herself so many things.

That he was just a boy.

That he was kind, innocent, a child.

That he didn’t have the makings of an adventurer.

—So how?!

And regardless.

He had risen to his feet.

That same boy.

That same child who would never have what it took to be an adventurer had risen to his feet via pure determination.

“Gngh!!”

Blood pouring from his unarmored limbs and frame quivering, the boy awoke from within.

This was his enemy and his alone, and he unleashed his attack, brutal and pitiless.

No—!

—Wait!

Aiz launched herself forward, the words forming between her lips, when—

She saw another back overlap the boy’s. A back she hadn’t seen in a long, long time.

“—Stay there, Aiz.”

It was her father’s, from the last time she’d seen him.

“—”

The back of the man who’d left her with those words, wind sword in his hand, before leaving for battle was overlaid atop the boy’s.

The boy and the hero were one.

Eyes opened wide, she found herself unable to move.

It felt like her heart and body weren’t connected. Little Aiz was frozen in place.

—Ah.

Then she understood.

As she was confronted with that image, as her memories came to life before her, she understood all too well.

He’d broken free of his mismatched mold and become an adventurer.

He’d taken his first step along the path to becoming a hero.

“I challenge you…!”

Thus, the boy…

…Faced the adventure.

The same way her father had thrust himself into that jet-black vortex.

The boy faced that mighty bull of red.

His fight with the minotaur rekindled the image from her past that had been seared into her eyes forever.

Aiz couldn’t stop him. She simply stood there, rooted to the spot.

She was unable to move, incapable of even uttering a sound.

Everything seemed so far away, the noises around her all but gone, and nothing but that fight reflected in her vision.

The mighty sword of the raging bull versus the flying dagger of the boy, roars versus screams, melted into every one of their back-and-forth attacks.

Sparks flew, blood spattered, and the high-pitched, metallic clanks of weapon on weapon echoed again and again.

They were evenly matched.

A one-on-one fight to the death.

As the one who had taught him how to fight, Aiz could barely believe her eyes at the deadly battle taking place in front of her.

Wagering everything he had, the boy was determined to take the bull down.

“—Outta the way, Aiz! I’ve got this!” Bete’s voice came like a slap from behind her as its owner rushed forward.

The werewolf unable to condone weaklings was already fully prepared to save Bell.

“Yo! Airhead! What the hell are you just standin’ there for…?” he started, before screeching to a halt right beside her.

He was looking at her golden eyes opened wide in consternation.

“…Huh?”

Bete realized it, too.

“Huh? Wait, isn’t that…?”

“…Who said he’s a Level One?”

Tiona noticed it. Then Tione.

“If my memory serves me correctly…” Even Finn put two and two together. “Isn’t that the same kid Bete called a complete beginner only a month ago?”

His incredible growth—the amazing transformation he’d achieved, becoming an adventurer, determination and ambition screaming from his throat.

“Gwwwwwwoooooooaaaaaaarrrrghh!”

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh—!”

The mighty roar broke through.

Man and monster clashed, continuing their battle of speed and strength.

Before Aiz even realized it, everyone had gathered around her.

Bete, Tiona, Tione, Finn, and Riveria with the prum girl in her arms.

No one said a word, simply watching the battle take place from as close as possible.

Just like Aiz, her eyes trembling as she found herself transfixed by the scene in front of her.

They were captivated, watching with bated breath.

“Argonaut…” Tiona murmured gently.

It fell from between her lips, almost like a sigh.

It was a story.

A nursery tale about a young man dreaming of becoming a hero, misguided by the malicious intentions of others and his own hapless fate.

A legend about how he was loved by a ghost, brought down a mighty bull, and saved a princess.

It was one of her favorites among the stories her mother had told her.

“I always loved that fairy tale…” Tiona murmured, the words buzzing in Aiz’s ears.

She had her arms around her chest, almost as though imagining the story playing out atop the scene in front of her.

That’s right.

This was one page of that epic.

Though the level of the fight might have been nothing for the first-tier-adventurer audience, somehow, none of them could pull their eyes away from the spectacle.

They’d forgotten it.

The beloved familia myth, ever watched over by the gods.

“—nngggghh!!”

The battle raged.

Neither side would give in. It was a ferocious back-and-forth. Faster and faster.

Man and beast carved away at each other’s lives in a duel to the death.

The boy flung himself at the mad bull with every ounce of strength and spirit he could possibly muster, putting to use everything Aiz had taught him.

It was a desperate, all-out effort lacking prudence or pride. An insatiable hunger for victory.

His technique.

Tactics.

Quick thinking.

Weaponry.

Magic.

It was all for this. Everything pumping into this single fight.

“Firebolt!”

And again.

“FIREBOLT!”

His body surged, his weapon sailed, and his magic flared.

He let out a ferocious roar—wielding his god-blade as he summoned forth fire and lightning.

“FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIREBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLT!!”

There was a mighty blast.

?!

As the boy’s obsidian knife plunged into the bull’s frame, the point-blank explosion assailed it from the inside out.

Flames erupted from within the minotaur’s body, and the beast gave off a violent cry of agony before disintegrating into a thousand tiny pieces of flaming debris.

A charred piece of the bull tumbled across the grass, and its magic stone somersaulted through the air before embedding itself in the ground.

The bull warrior was gone, not a trace remaining, leaving only the boy.

“He…He freaking won…” Bete muttered in wonder at the victorious boy’s back.

“…There’s nothing left…Mind Down.”

“He fainted while standing…”

Tione and Tiona mused, just as astonished, at the sight of the motionless boy, still gripping his dagger.

“…”

And Aiz—

Seeing that back, having surpassed its limit.

That figure, having given everything he had.

That face, having overcome the adventure.

—found herself flooded with emotion and scenes from her past.

Bell Cranell.

It was a name Aiz would never forget.

The back that overlapped her father’s.

The page in the legend.

The greatness that had been achieved.

Today, an adventurer who’d taken his first breath—had obtained his first qualification for hero-hood.