The blacksmiths of the Hephaestus Familia truly did great work.
When I entered Rose's office, the first thing my advisor made me do was put on the armor her friend had delivered the day before.
Seria hadn't been joking when she said she would adjust each individual piece to properly fit me.
The armor didn't restrict my movement at all.
I stretched my arms, humming softly.
The immaculately polished vambrace reflected the light of the ceiling lamp. Like the chest and shoulder pieces, they gleamed with the color of pure, flawless silver.
According to Seria, an adventurer's reputation was defined by their weapons and armor just as much as it was by their alias.
The cow demihuman had stared me straight in the eyes and practically ordered me to hold off on personalizing mine until I acquired a contracted blacksmith of my own.
Whether that truly was an opinion shared by the majority of Orario or just something common amongst blacksmiths, I could not say.
However, I did know one thing—
Rose trusted her, and I trusted Rose.
If Seria advised me to wait, then I would wait.
"Your friend is very good at her job," I said, the corner of my mouth lifting upward. "As expected of your former classmate."
I rested a hand on the pommel of the sword attached to my hip, quickly getting used to the extra weight.
Rose lifted her gaze from the notebook—settled on her lap—and assessed my armored figure.
"That she is."
Wavy crimson hair covered the majority of her face as her head lowered again.
Those three words were the most she'd said to me all morning.
A soft click sounded at my side as I unfastened the sheath from my belt and placed it on the table between us.
I sank into the couch and glanced at the stoic woman.
"About yesterday—"
"When were you going to tell me that your skill heals you?"
I blinked, thrown by the sudden question.
"What makes you think that it does?"
She turned a page without looking up.
"Your clothes were ruined each time you came back from the Dungeon. And yet—you never had as much as a scratch on you. You couldn't have used potions… you didn't even know what they were before I told you."
She paused, her words lingering in the air.
"You have neither a healing spell, nor a corresponding skill."
Her voice lowered as he fingers tightened around the book.
"Despite it being hard to believe, your skill must not only increase your stats, but also heal you."
A small smile formed on my face.
"Is there anything that get past you?"
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my armored knees.
"Yes. Morsalis heals me. I didn't mean to keep this from you, I just didn't think it was worth mentioning."
"You didn't think it was worth—" She stopped and let out a breath. "It doesn't matter. You're ready to go down to the 6th floor now."
I tilted my head, studying her closely.
"Didn't you say I should wait until all my stats were at least ranked G?"
Paper rustled as my advisor turned another page.
She was either reading very fast. Or not at all.
"That was when I knew less about your skill than I do now. Monsters spawn faster the farther you descend—but Frog Shooters and War Shadows should be well within your capabilities." She hesitated. "They are the new monsters the Dungeon spawns on the 6th floor."
"I know. I read about them in the Monster Encyclopedia on my first day here. After you told me about the library."
"Good."
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The wolf-like ears on my advisor's head twitched as an awkward silence spread between us.
"You did the right thing when you helped Skvader's sister, but you should really try to avoid adventurers you don't know from now on."
"Why?"
"Can you not guess it?"
I scoffed, propping my chin against my fist.
"That part is obvious. What I can't figure out is why you think that way. What happened that made you hold adventurers in such contempt?"
Rose's shoulders stiffened.
"Didn't I tell you—"
"You did."
She'd made her stance on personal questions abundantly clear.
"But this does concern my adventuring career. If there's something I'm missing—I need to know."
She didn't respond, her lips pursed.
I tilted my head, my eyes tracing the lines of her pinched face.
"Are you angry with me, Rose?"
The book slipped from her grasp as her gaze snapped upward.
"I'm not! Why would you think that?"
My brows furrowed.
She couldn't be serious.
"Why would I not? The way you practically fled the café yesterday—"
"Forget about that!"
Words failed to form as I searched the woman's expression.
The stoic mask she wore had shattered.
"I didn't meant to upset you when I told you that story."
"You didn't!"
My eyes narrowed slightly as I scanned her tense posture.
"You clearly are."
She gritted her teeth, closing her gloved hands around her elbows.
"I'm not!"
She leaned back into the couch.
"Just forget about it."
"I can't do that."
The weight of my words hung heavy between us.
I'd lived an entire lifetime refusing to form bonds with people.
I knew where that path would lead.
She deserved better than that.
"Rose… tell me what's wrong."
The werewolf's crimson tail wrapped around her waist.
"Nothing is wrong."
She fixed her gaze on the sheathed sword between us, her mask sliding back into place.
A deep sigh escaped me as I leaned back.
"Is that your final answer?"
"… Yes."
After a moment, she picked the fallen book back up and turned another page.
——————-
A wide grin split my face as I cleaved a frog shooter in half.
My descent into the Dungeon had been marked by constant violence and death.
Monsters that once posed a challenge—now scarcely slowed me for more than a few seconds as I cut them down in droves.
It only took a single battle for the longsword to prove itself superior to the guild dagger and pure hand-to-hand combat I had used before.
The first goblin that crossed my path lost its head before it could so much as scream in my direction.
While my movements were still far from graceful or skilled, I was more than capable of delivering simple slashes and thrusts.
After the way my conversation with Rose had ended earlier in the day, I relished the chance to return to something I was actually good at.
Killing.
How to position my body to avoid an attack.
How to angle my blade to deliver maximum damage.
They were things I understood.
The flow of battle unfolded before my eyes like a puzzle, eager to be solved.
Although incomparable to the pleasure my Blessing granted me, I could not deny the allure of battle.
My ears twitched as I registered the approaching danger—
just in time to step to the side and avoid the slimy tongue aimed at my back.
My sword flashed, and pink flesh was severed.
Blood squirted out like a fountain, staining the floor as a loud screech echoed through the tunnel.
Three long strides were all it took for me to close the distance between us and plunge my blade into the frog shooter's sole eye.
I rolled my shoulders and retrieved the magic stone the monster had dropped.
While my technical sword skills were still lacking, for simple beasts like these, they were more than sufficient.
My movements halted as the sound of cracking stone reverberated around me. Barely visible under the dim light, dark hands tore themselves out of the green walls.
War Shadows.
The dreaded rookie killers of the 6th floor.
The Dungeon floor had darkened with their appearance, the glowing red eye at the center of their heads the only remaining source of light.
My grip tightened around the bloodied longsword as a mob of them closed in around me.
I planted my feet and angled my blade to intercept the knife-like claws of the first war shadow.
My ears briefly deafened as the monster's shrill cry thundered through the tunnel.
The sharp blade had effortlessly cut through its long arm.
I stepped into the beast guard and pierced the magic stone in its stomach area.
The war shadow disintegrated, making way for the rest of its monstrous siblings.
Two of them rushed at me from both sides. A third's clawed hand was mere inches away from tearing into my face.
My eyes widened as I snapped my upper body to the side, dodging the most pressing attack.
While I had avoided certain death, the monster's claws still sliced through my cheek, leaving a gaping wound in its passage.
An agonised scream tore itself out of my throat as I desperately swung my sword.
The strike connected, and the second war shadow vanished into black mist.
Blood entered my eye and stole half of my vision.
As a consequence, I did not react in time when the next monster swiped at my chest.
The attack left nothing but a scratch on my armor.
I shifted my stance and slashed at the offending war shadow with my sword in one hand while simultaneously reaching out to the one lunging at me from my left with the other.
Morsalis roared to life and reaped the monster's life the moment my fingers collided with its wispy limb.
My split skin knitted together seamlessly.
The strength behind my slash doubled as I rounded on the remaining monster, adding momentum to my attack.
The blow connected, and the monster's upper body was separated from its lower half.
I crouched low and avoided the sneak attack aimed at my neck. Despite the chaos of combat, I hadn't forgotten the fifth and final monster lurking in the shadows.
My armored boot lashed out—
and the monster crashed backward into the Dungeon wall.
Before it could recover, I lunged forward and—with both hands on the hilt—drove my blade upward into the war shadow's eye.
The monster disintegrated, and the only sound that remained in the hallway was my labored breath.
The Blessing of Death healed my injuries and refilled my stamina—but anything more was beyond it.
Mental exhaustion. Frayed nerves. They plagued me just as much as anyone else.
A faint smile touched my lips as I first wiped the blood off my sword and then slid it back into its sheath.
Maybe Tiara's big sister was onto something after all.
I marched forward, leaving the empty corridor behind.
I doubt I would be able to experience this rush if I knew there was somebody looking after me.
Threatening croaks warned me of the danger approaching from behind.
I spun in place, raising my clenched fists.
The oversized frog glared at me and crouched down low, as if in preparation for a jump.
Just as I took a step forward, a slimy tongue encircled my torso from the opposite direction, tearing me off my feet.
I turned my head, locking onto the gaping maw of the monster dragging me backward.
I quickly grabbed onto the pink appendage—with Morsalis activated in full force.
It died.
Despite having broken free of the beast's hold, my momentum still sent me crashing into the Dungeon wall.
A pained groan slipped past my lips as I shook my head and straightened back up.
Just in time to avoid the remaining frog's tongue by a hair's breadth.
With a slight limp in my step, I marcher toward the stationary monster.
Instead of changing its attack pattern, the beast kept lashing its tongue at me until the end.
My balled fist slammed into its head, taking its life with contemptuous ease.
A light snort escaped me as I straightened, sweeping my gaze across the hallway.
My eyes lit up as the words of a fierce girl rang in my mind
Adventurers need to go on adventures.
How else will they become strong?"
—————
He is growing so fast.
A warm smile bloomed across Hestia's faceas she copied Cain's status onto a blank piece of paper.
How quickly children change… They're so different from us.
To Hestia, no time at all had passed since she first submerged herself into the memories of her first Familia member.
And yet, each time he returned from the Dungeon, the excelia he brought with him was more exciting than the last.
Hephaestus was right after all.
The goddess lifted the marked paper from her child's back and examined the writing on it.
Name: Cain
Level: 1
Strength: H 115 -> H 191
Endurance: H 113 -> H 188
Dexterity: H 107 -> H 183
Agility: H 104 -> H 177
Magic: H 100 -> H 170
Skills:
Morsalis
Each life taken with the Blessing of Death is used to empower the host.
Magic:
— None
She shifted to the side, allowing Cain to raise himself upward.
"You've advanced a lot this time."
She gently ran her fingers through his hair, as he was so fond of doing to her.
"I'm proud of you."
Her darling child flushed, averting his eyes as he leaned back into the bed.
"Thank you."
A memory of unbridled joy flashed through Hestia's mind as she watched the contented expression on his face.
She leaned forward and nestled herself against his side, smiling as his scent wrapped around her.
He smelled like home.
Even more so than her temple in Tenkai used to.
"You've changed," she said quietly.
"In what way?" he asked, watching at her with attentive amber eyes.
The status page he'd given his full attention to mere moments earlier lay forgotten beside him.
"When you first returned from the Dungeon, you didn't enjoy being an adventurer—not when you weren't using that skill."
Cain expression closed off, his gaze turning to the side.
"That is not true anymore," she added, squeezing down on his arm. "Can you tell me why?"
The young man's angular features softened as he met her earnest gaze.
"I didn't change," he said quietly. "My perspective did."
"What do you mean?"
A low hum rumbled in his throat as glanced up at the ceiling.
"Where I come from, citizens aren't allowed to fight" He smiled thinly. "Not even to defend themselves."
Hestia eye's narrowed.
The more she learned about his previous world, the less she liked it.
"I suppose it took me a while to appreciate the process of being an adventurer as much as the outcome."
His smile grew more genuine.
"I have a certain rabbit girl to thank for that."
A rabbit girl?
An unpleasant sensation coiled in Hestia's chest.
"I see. Where did you meet her?" She stared up at him. "And if she's that important, how come you didn't tell me about her before?"
"We met in the Dungeon," Cain said, tilting his head. "I saved her life. We talked."
He met her stare with an arched brow.
"Should I have told you? It will likely be a while until I see her again. Rose advised me to avoid her until I'm stronger. Her sister is…"
His voice faded into the background as Hestia's mind raced.
There he goes talking about that Rose woman again!
That mysterious 'advisor' of his he spends so much time with.
She is the reason why he always leaves our bed so early!
The goddess's jaw clenched as the image of a laughing werewolf took shape in her mind.
"Hestia… are you alright?"
"Of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?"
Her gaze snapped upward as she glared at her philandering Familia Captain.
"Are you sure there's nothing wrong?" he asked.
"Yes… Nothing is wrong," she answered absentmindedly.
The image of the laughing werewolf was replaced by that same featureless woman draping herself all over her darling child's body.
"Is this really happening again?" Cain muttered.
That thieving wolf… I can't let her win!
The goddess jerked up and blurted out the first words that sprung to her mind.
"Go on a date with me!"