Ryuu Lion had lost count of how many times she'd been surprised that day.
Touching the wounded youth, witnessing his battle, hearing his bold "confession"... In the face of the Dea Saint's tightly clasped right hand, even the waves of monsters felt strangely mundane.
The Dungeon was filled with anomalies, yet this white-haired boy was astonishing in an entirely different way.
"Excuse me... are you from the tavern?" Airmid was the first to speak.
The elf girl before them wore a staff uniform and a light green mask. She looked strangely familiar.
When Ryuu had heard that something unusual was happening in the upper floors of the Dungeon, she'd rushed over immediately. Only when Airmid spoke did she realize she'd forgotten to conceal her identity.
"I'm just an ordinary employee," Ryuu said plainly. "More importantly, you two..."
She wanted to ask about the boy and the Dea Saint's relationship, but after seeing their condition, the words caught in her throat.
A faint blue glow reflected off Airmid's figure. Her sacred white and blue robes were torn and stained with blood, pale skin visible through the rents in the fabric.
Had this not been inside the Dungeon, Ryuu would never have dared look at the Saint's body directly.
"We were attacked by a giant Goblin. It's only thanks to Cranel-san that we survived."
Misunderstanding Ryuu's intent, Airmid explained as she began walking toward the exit.
Ryuu frowned, turning her gaze to the boy.
When she had entered the fifth floor earlier, the monster wave had been surging from the left side. Beyond the weak goblins, she'd seen a massive mutant species among them.
The numbers alone—and a giant Goblin on top of that—were not something a new Adventurer could possibly handle.
He must have pushed himself again.
A quiet sorrow flickered in the elf's heart, but reason quickly overtook it. Those monsters... they had all been running for their lives.
Could they have been afraid of this boy?
"Ryuu-san?" Bell looked at the elf girl standing motionless. "Thank you for coming to our rescue. You took care of those monsters, didn't you? That helped a lot."
Had the wave not been wiped out, the two would still be on edge—watching their surroundings, worrying whether the monsters might rush toward the surface and cause further casualties.
"No, it was nothing," Ryuu said softly, glancing at the blood smeared across the boy's clothes. Shame tinged her thoughts.
They had endured such terror, and yet she had been bothered by her friend's feelings—and by her own doubts about the boy and the Saint.
How childish.
Ryuu unfastened her uniform, revealing a short undershirt beneath—nothing indecent. "Put this on. It's better than what you have now."
She gave Airmid a brief look, but as she approached, she instinctively offered the outer garment to the boy instead.
"..."
All three fell silent for a moment, staring at the pale green uniform between them.
"Is this... for me?" Bell finally asked, breaking the awkward air.
"Sorry, that's not what I meant," Ryuu said quickly. "It's just... elves don't allow other races to touch our skin—only those we acknowledge..."
Her words trailed off, her usual composure slipping. "No, Cranel-san, please don't misunderstand. I just... thought it made more sense to give it to you since we're... a bit more familiar, that's all..."
The elf girl's tone softened, her usual sternness replaced by a hesitant warmth.
As a fellow woman, Airmid understood immediately.
The battle had been too fierce, and her mind had been focused entirely on the boy—she hadn't even noticed her own state of dress.
"I-I'm sorry!" Airmid cried, face flushing red as she hurriedly released Bell's hand.
She pressed her hands to her chest, trying to hide the faint glimpse of her exposed skin.
The Dea Saint's shy apology and the elf's reserved demeanor lingered in the air.
Bell gave a small, gentle laugh as he took the garment from Ryuu.
As he adjusted it to keep Airmid's skirt from dragging on the floor, his hand brushed Ryuu's right hand.
Feeling that firm, warm touch, the elf girl found herself once again wondering about their relationship.
In the calm that followed the chaos, the three of them began walking toward the surface.
And quietly, Ryuu made up her mind.
She would let her friend step forward this time.
...
Night had yet to fall, but the streets of Orario were already glowing with countless Magic Stone lamps, glittering like scattered stars.
The Hostess of Fertility hadn't yet welcomed its evening guests, but the air was already warm with rising energy.
Airmid sat on a bed on the tavern's second floor. She had come only to return the staff uniform, yet somehow she'd been mistaken for an injured patient.
A soft knock sounded on the door.
"Come in."
Moments later, a Cat Person girl poked her head through the doorway.
"Did the boy come, nya? No, nya? The first visitor wasn't the boy, but Anya, nya!"
"..."
Airmid simply stared at the silly catgirl in silence.
Anya hadn't expected her well-rehearsed line to fall flat. After a brief, awkward cough, she tried again, her tone mysterious. "I have some good news for you, nya."
She stepped closer to the bed, lowering her voice. "This bed... this morning... that white-haired boy was sleeping here, nya."
"..."
The Dea Saint blinked slowly, still saying nothing.
Anya slumped, as if struck by a critical hit, and shuffled out of the room in defeat.
The second visitor was a brown-haired human girl.
"What are you doing...? Are the sheets really that nice to smell?" Lunoire teased.
The legendary Dea Saint clutched the sheets in her hands like a kitten, quietly sniffing them.
"This... isn't..." Airmid buried her face in the bedding, hiding her flushed cheeks.
"Well, looks like you're fine. I guess I'll just stay here and slack off a bit."
Lunoire leaned casually against the doorway—until a large hand suddenly grabbed her arm and dragged her out.
"Wait... I haven't even started—" Her protest faded down the hall.
...
"Looks like my warning worked, nya." The black cat entered with a sly grin.
"Warning?"
"Just told the manager someone might be slacking off, nya," Chloe said with a chuckle.
"Hah..." Airmid felt more confused than ever about why she was even there.
Chloe's gaze turned sharp and playful. "So, that annoying god of yours hasn't caused trouble for the boy, nya?"
Airmid sighed softly. She hadn't expected Dian Cecht's reputation to have sunk this low. Even a tavern waitress could casually call a god "annoying."
Surprisingly, the Dea Saint didn't argue.
"My apologies. If Dian Cecht-sama ever intends to trouble Cranel-san, I'll stop him immediately."
At first, the aged god had been convinced that Bell had lured Airmid into the Dungeon. He had forbidden her from seeing the boy again and even planned to demand compensation from the Guild and the Hestia Familia.
Only after Airmid explained everything did Dian Cecht take back his accusations.
The Dea Saint insisted on repaying the boy who had risked his life to save hers, but the god had flatly refused. Airmid had said nothing—just gave him a cold look and walked away.
Even without invoking her Familia's name, she had already decided: she would offer her song to the boy herself.
"As long as I'm here, the Dian Cecht Familia will never harm his interests."
She looked straight into Chloe's deep green eyes as she spoke.
The two girls locked gazes for a long moment.
Then Chloe smiled faintly. "Just saying, nya. Whatever that old man does... it's got nothing to do with me, nya."
"Hah..."
Airmid knew she didn't mean that. The catgirl's tone carried a knowing weight, as though she were intimately familiar with the god's habits and temperament.
Despite never having visited the Familia, she carried herself with the quiet confidence of someone who knew far more than she let on.
"That's that, nya." Before her words had even faded, Chloe was gone.
A soft breeze brushed past the window, making it tremble slightly.
Then, a beautiful girl with ash-gray hair stepped inside.
"I heard you went through something frightening," she said gently. "If you're feeling uneasy, would you like to talk about it?"
"..."
Hearing the girl's calm, clear voice, Airmid felt as though she'd wandered into a world woven from oranges and honeyed wine.
Warm. Comforting. Enchanting.
Just one sentence was enough to pull her away from the lingering nightmare.
Wrapped in that gentle air, Airmid began quietly recounting what had happened that afternoon.
Perhaps it was the girl's warmth that moved her—or maybe it was simply the ease of talking to another human girl with such a kind, charming face.
Airmid spoke at length.
Syr listened silently, her expression shifting each time the white-haired boy was mentioned—sometimes sad, sometimes worried, and at times hiding a small, tender smile.
Through the Dea Saint's soft narration, Syr could almost feel as if she had witnessed everything herself.
Outside, the stars shimmered alongside the Magic Stone lamps.
And when Airmid spoke of the moment she had taken the boy's right hand of her own accord, a faint shadow crossed Syr's lovely face.