Consciousness returned not with a jolt, but smoothly, as if someone were slowly raising a curtain.
The first thing to register was the feel of the fabric. Not the coarse, cheap-soap-smelling sheets he was used to, and certainly not the damp dungeon floor, but something cool, slick, almost weightless. Silk.
Bell's eyes snapped open.
Instead of a soot-stained ceiling with damp patches, a vault of light stone decorated with intricate carvings loomed above him. Magic crystals in wall niches bathed the spacious room in a soft, amber light, simulating the morning sun.
He sat up with a start, throwing off the blanket.
No pain.
His hands frantically felt his chest. The ribs that had recently felt shattered were intact. His breathing came easily, without wheezing or the taste of iron. His body ached, but it was merely a dull exhaustion, not agony.
"I'm... alive?"
His voice sounded hoarse, drowning in the silence of the rich decor.
Memory struck the back of his head. The roar... The massive bulk of the Minotaur blocking the passage. And Rane's eyes.
Bell swung his legs off the bed. His feet sank into the thick pile of the carpet. He rushed to the window, throwing back the heavy velvet curtains.
Light hit his eyes. When his vision focused, his breath caught.
Below, far beneath his feet, sprawled Orario. To the left, piercing the clouds, the colossal white needle of Babel reached into the heavens. And right below the window lay a massive park complex, protected by walls resembling fortress ramparts. Seven towers scratched the sky with their spires.
Twilight Manor. The home of the Loki Familia.
The realization of where he was arrived alongside a cold knot in his stomach.
"Rane..."
The memory of the final second.
Bell recoiled from the window. If he was here and in one piece, that meant... they won? Rane managed to do it? Hope pushed through the panic like a timid sprout. Yes, that must be it. Otherwise, he'd be dead.
Click.
The door handle turned. Bell pressed his back against the windowsill.
A girl in the uniform of the Loki Familia's lower ranks entered the room. In her hands, she held a silver basin of water and a stack of clean towels. Taking a step, she saw the empty bed, and her gaze darted to the window.
She froze. Her eyes slid over Bell's figure, then dropped to the water, then back to the bed.
"Tch."
The sound was quiet but distinct. She blatantly clicked her tongue, not even trying to hide her annoyance that the "patient" had woken up before she could do her job.
The girl instantly changed her expression. A professional, slightly sugary smile played on her lips.
"Oh, what joy! You're awake!" she rattled off. "Praise the gods. I must inform the captain immediately. Please, stay here."
She turned and vanished out the door as quickly as she had appeared.
Bell was taken aback.
"Eh?.."
The corridor outside the door resembled a museum. High ceilings, white marble columns, an echo that carried every footstep.
Bell stood by the wall, nervously fidgeting with the hem of the simple tunic they had dressed him in.
Opposite him stood a short Pallum.
Blond hair, calm blue eyes holding an intellect that was frightening for such a youthful appearance. He was dressed simply, but he radiated such a dense, confident aura that it made one want to stand at attention.
Finn Deimne. "Braver." The captain of one of the strongest Familias in the city.
"On behalf of the Loki Familia, I apologize," Finn's voice was soft, devoid of any arrogance. He bowed his head slightly. "The fact that a monster from the deep floors broke through to the upper levels is our failing. We put you in mortal danger."
Bell felt his stomach tie itself into a knot. A legendary adventurer was apologizing to him.
"N-no need!" Bell waved his hands, flushing bright red. "P-please! We... we were just in the wrong place... it's not your fault!"
Finn straightened up, studying the boy closely. A flicker of approval passed through his eyes.
"You are kind. But the responsibility for the sweep lay with us. The Loki Familia is accustomed to fixing its mistakes."
Bell swallowed hard, not knowing where to look. But the anxiety for his friend overcame his timidity before authority.
"Excuse me..." he started quietly. "And... Rane? My friend. He was with me."
Finn stopped smiling. His face became serious, but not cruel.
"Your partner is here. Let's go."
He opened the adjacent door.
The smell hit his nose instantly. The sharp, astringent scent of healing herbs and alchemy, overpowering the fragrance of incense.
Bell froze on the threshold.
Rane lay on a wide bed. He looked like a broken doll that had been hastily glued back together. Bandages covered almost his entire body—arms, torso, neck. The fabric of the wraps wasn't white, but dark green, thoroughly soaked in highly potent elixirs.
"Rane..." Bell exhaled. His legs went weak, and he sank into a chair next to the bed.
"What... what's wrong with him?"
Finn stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed over his chest. He looked at the resting boy with an incomprehensible mix of pity and respect.
"I was hoping you would tell us what happened down there," the captain said quietly. "Because we found you in the center of a bloody mess."
Finn nodded at the bandaged figure.
"We healed your injuries with a couple of weak potions. Bruises, fractures—trifles. But him..." Finn shook his head. "It's as if he channeled lightning through himself. His vocal cords are torn. The muscles in his arms are ripped not by an enemy's blows, but by his own exertion. He literally tore himself apart from the inside, trying to do something his body couldn't."
Bell went pale.
"Moreover, he is suffering from severe physical exhaustion. We've been pouring elixirs into him just to keep his organs alive while they regenerate; it's a miracle we made it in time."
Finn didn't finish the sentence, but Bell understood.
He lowered his head, staring at his hands. They were whole. Clean. While Rane had destroyed himself to save his hide.
"It's my fault..." Bell whispered, his voice trembling. "I stood there like a statue... I didn't do anything... I'm useless."
"Stop," Finn cut him off firmly, but without malice.
The Pallum stepped closer.
"You are people without Falna. An encounter with a Minotaur is a death sentence for you. Death. No other options. The fact that both of you are breathing is already a miracle that defies common sense."
Finn placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Your friend is alive. You are alive. Don't devalue that. Now, come along. My Goddess wants to take a look at the ones who cheated death."
The Loki Familia's drawing room looked more like a king's throne room than a place to relax. Massive sofas arranged in a semicircle, monster pelts on the floor, trophy weapons on the walls.
Bell sat on the edge of the central sofa, feeling like an ant under a microscope. Opposite him, sprawled in a chair in a defiantly careless pose, sat Loki.
Fiery red hair, narrowed slit-like eyes, a predatory smirk. She didn't sit straight—she melted into the chair, one leg thrown over the armrest. But this relaxed posture radiated such a threat that Bell pressed himself into the back of the sofa, wishing he could merge with the upholstery.
The Familia's elite were arranged around her. To the left—a tall elf with royal posture. To the right—two Amazon twins. By the wall, arms crossed and not even looking in their direction, stood a werewolf. And Ais Wallenstein herself, the famous Sword Princess, stood frozen a short distance away, impassive as a marble statue.
"So, kid," Loki's voice was raspy, with a distinct street accent. She leaned forward, resting her elbow on her knee. "Spill it. How the hell are you even breathing?"
Bell opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat. The Goddess's gaze seemed to x-ray him, turning his soul inside out.
"Loki," Riveria took a step forward and delivered a short but resounding smack to the back of the Goddess's head.
"Ouch! What are you doing, you old hag?!" Loki shrieked, clutching the crown of her head. Her entire terrifying aura vanished in an instant.
"Stop pressuring him," Riveria said in an icy tone. "You're scaring the child. Have a shred of dignity."
"What dignity can I even scrape together around you lot!" Loki snapped back, though she lowered her tone. "That hurt, you know!"
The elf sighed and shifted her gaze to Bell.
"Hello. I am Riveria. I apologize for our Goddess's behavior and for the incident with the Minotaur. We recognize our responsibility. But Loki's question, though asked crudely, is important. We need to understand what happened. How did people without a Falna survive an encounter with a Level Two monster?"
All eyes converged on Bell.
"And how were you able to wound it?" added Finn, standing near Loki's chair.
Bell swallowed convulsively.
"W-wound it?.." he whispered. "I... I don't know. Everything was too fast. My partner pushed me away. I only remember him screaming. And then darkness."
He lowered his head, hiding his eyes. Shame and guilt washed over him in a new wave. He hadn't seen anything. He had been useless.
Finn looked closely at the pale boy. Noticed his trembling hands and the sweat on his forehead.
"Enough," the captain said quietly but firmly. "He's in shock and can barely stand. We won't achieve anything with an interrogation."
He signaled to the very same girl who had brought the water. She immediately materialized next to the sofa.
"Escort our guest to his room. He needs rest and food."
"Yes, Captain. If you'll please," the girl gently but firmly took Bell by the elbow.
Bell stood up on rubbery legs, muttered an awkward "thank you," and allowed himself to be led away from this hall saturated with power.
As soon as the heavy oak door closed behind him with a click of the lock, the atmosphere in the room changed instantly.
"Bullshit," Bete Loga's voice cut through the silence like a rusty saw.
The werewolf peeled himself off the wall, his face twisted in a grimace of disgust.
"'I don't know,' 'darkness.' How convenient. The kid is just lying."
"Bete!" Tione chided him, though her voice sounded more tired than defensive.
"What 'Bete'?" he snarled, stepping into the center of the room. "Look at him. Shaking like a rabbit. Weakling. Trash coward who abandoned his friend and lay there unconscious while he did all the work. And now he's playing the victim. I don't believe a single word."
"Well, he's such a cutie," Tiona dragged out, tilting her head to the side.
"Odd as it is," Tione snorted. "Bete is right about one thing. The story doesn't add up."
"That doesn't change the facts," Finn intervened calmly. He shifted his gaze to Ais. "What do you say?"
The Sword Princess, who had been silent this whole time, raised her eyes.
"There was a wound on the monster's chest," she said quietly but clearly. "A deep slash."
A heavy silence hung in the room.
Everyone shifted their gaze to Loki. The Goddess leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling with an unfocused gaze. Her face was surprisingly serious.
"Alas," she dragged out, sighing heavily. "The kid was telling the truth."
Bete ground his teeth but stayed silent. Arguing with a deity about lies was pointless. Gods could sense falsehood as clearly as humans could smell a stench.
"I didn't sense any lies either," Riveria confirmed. "His fear was genuine. And his guilt, too. He truly doesn't know how his friend did it."
"Which means the whole catch is with the second one," Finn rubbed his chin with his thumb.
"Interesting specimens..." Loki licked her lips predatorily, a dangerous spark flashing in her crimson eyes. "Survived where they should have croaked. And wounded a monster they shouldn't have been able to scratch..."
She sat up straight.
"Alright then. We wait for the other one to wake up. In the meantime... Finn."
"Yes, Loki?"
"Go to the Guild. Find out everything about these two. Where they came from, when they registered. If they're that lucky—I want to know why."
"It will be done."
Loki leaned back again, closing her eyes.
"Maybe we really did get lucky picking them up. Or maybe we just bought ourselves a headache. Time will tell."