At that moment, the noise of the crowd gradually died down.
The road ahead parted of its own accord, a natural gap opening up in the flow.
Through that gap, an elven girl stepped forward at a leisurely pace.
She wore a white mage's robe unmarked by any dust, its hem swaying gently with each step. In one hand she held a short staff set with a green gemstone.
Her long black hair fell smoothly over her shoulders, and her skin was so pale it was almost dazzling.
Most striking of all were those pointed ears peeking out from between the dark strands.
"An elf..."\
Both the Holy Emperor and Tendou Kisara looked at that figure and instinctively stopped walking.
This was the first time either of them had ever laid eyes on one of these fantastical beings that existed only in imagination.
The elven girl looked straight ahead, chin tilted slightly upward, expression composed and wholly indifferent to the stares around her. As for the adventurers who were normally brash and boisterous to a fault — when the elven girl passed, they either stepped aside to make way or lowered their voices mid-conversation.
A few female adventurers in light armor even waved at her with a smile.
"Hey, Rina! Good haul today?"
"Mm. Not bad."
The elven girl didn't slow her steps, answering with a single simple phrase. Her tone was cool, but not unfriendly.
This scene.
Hit the newcomers to this world with a force that needed no words to describe.
Aihara Enju watched that respected figure walk away, then lowered her gaze to look at her own hand resting at her side.
Her small fingers instinctively tightened around her skirt.
Even though Haimer had told her this place was different.
That bone-deep conditioned reflex — carved into her by years and years of being treated as a monster — wasn't something that could disappear so easily.
On this street filled with ordinary humans, her instinct was to hide those red eyes of hers.
In this world. A world without Gastrea.
She was still an outsider.
That ingrained sense of being "other" — etched into her very bones over a lifetime — was not something that could be erased simply by changing locations.
Pak.
A hand landed gently on top of her dazed little head.
The palm was warm.
Aihara Enju went stiff all over and looked up.
Haimer stood beside her, his gaze not on her at all — but fixed on the direction the elf had disappeared.
"In this world, there are no Cursed Children."
"And no Gastrea Factors."
"Whether you are human, a Beastman, an elf, or a Pallum."
"No matter what kind of ears you have. No matter what kind of eyes."
Haimer withdrew his hand and gestured at the crowd of all shapes and kinds surrounding them.
"As long as you are strong enough."
"Or work hard enough to create value in this Dungeon city."
"You can earn respect here."
Aihara Enju listened, then looked after the elven girl's retreating silhouette.
She touched her own eyes with her fingertips.
Her heart gave two heavy beats inside her chest. That weight that had pressed on the bottom of her heart for so long... seemed, in this moment, to lighten just a little.
"Mm!"
Aihara Enju gave a firm nod, released her grip on her skirt, and balled her hand into a fist instead — raising it in front of her chest, her small face full of resolve.
"I'm going to work hard and get stronger!"
"I absolutely won't embarrass Kami-sama!"
"Me too, me too!"
At that moment, Hiruko Kohina squeezed over as well.
She still had those two short blades in her hands, face bright with that unhealthy, eager excitement of hers.
"Kami-sama."
"Kohina is going to work hard and get stronger too!"
"That elf lady looks so strong though."
"Can Kohina go cut her?"
...
"No!"
The words were barely out of her mouth before Haimer refused without a moment's hesitation, pressing down on Kohina's restless little head with one hand.
"No private duels here."
"If you want to fight, I'll take you to the Dungeon — the monsters down there are yours to cut up as you please."
"Oh..."
Hiruko Kohina pouted in disappointment, but obediently sheathed her blades.
However.
Those red eyes of hers kept sneaking glances in the direction the elf had disappeared, clearly not entirely over it.
Haimer shook his head with resignation.
This kid...
She really never gave him a moment's peace.
But.
Looking at their lively, energetic faces, Haimer felt genuinely happy deep down.
After all, this was precisely why he had brought them here.
To let them shake free from the shadows of the past and begin new lives.
And through all of it.
He would be right here beside them.
As their guide.
---
So.
The group continued on their way.
It had to be said.
This was without a doubt the most eye-catching party on all of Orario's streets.
The rate at which heads turned was absurd.
Even with his Divine Might reined in, Haimer's face and that effortlessly composed, unhurried air of his meant that even dressed in the simplest everyday clothes, he stood out the way a crane stands among chickens.
Add to that Hestia — dangling off his left arm like a decorative accessory, her signature blue ribbon bouncing with every step — and that alone was already more than enough to draw stares.
To say nothing of the three distinctive beauties walking behind him.
Tendou Kisara wore her signature black sailor uniform, tachi in hand, every step landing with the particular rhythm that belonged only to a swordsman. Her black hair streamed behind her, her bearing sharp and heroic.
Aihara Enju and Hiruko Kohina were young, but both were strikingly pretty in their own ways — one radiating pure, boundless vitality, the other carrying just a hint of dangerous, sickly-sweet intensity. They drew no shortage of maternally overflowing glances from female adventurers passing by.
But.
If there was one person who truly forced every eye on the entire street to converge.
Who even brought more than a few people to a complete standstill.
It was the person walking at Haimer's side, just half a step behind him.
— The Holy Emperor.
In any world.
Beauty is always a scarce resource.
The Holy Emperor's beauty was not simply a matter of refined features.
It was something more — an aura of authority cultivated over long years spent at the very pinnacle of power. A quality that commanded without effort and held every gaze it touched.
That extraordinarily rare silver-white hair shimmered with a soft luster.
Those eyes, clear as still lake water, carried a faint undercurrent of melancholy — the kind that made anyone who caught a glimpse of them unable to resist wondering what story lay hidden beneath.
[Artist Note — OCR artifact from embedded illustration direction: "I think... please use this as reference for the undergarment. For the Holy Emperor, please draw with a full, voluptuous feel. Please keep the chest from being drawn too large while maintaining a girlish quality. For critical areas, please use some kind of cover or mask. (This range — to bring out the normal skin-toned silky texture, when uploading please try adding shadow highlights in this manner.)"]
And that innate, bone-deep noble bearing she maintained even while walking through a clamoring street.
Even with her white formal gown somewhat tattered, its hem dusted with grime.
None of it diminished her beauty in the slightest.
If anything, it made her look like a fallen lily — all the more pitiable, all the more lovely.
Especially in the midst of this crowd packed with adventurers.
The Holy Emperor stood out like the only splash of color in a black-and-white painting.
Impossible to look away from.
"Hey, look at that silver-haired one..."
"She's gorgeous. Is she a new recruit from some Familia?"
"Never seen her before... that bearing... could she be elven royalty?"
"Doesn't look like it — her ears are round. She's human."
"Human? A human with looks like that?"
"That outfit... looks like noble formal wear. Could she be some refugee princess from a fallen kingdom?"
Whispers carried in from all directions.
And it wasn't just humans.
Dwarves, Pig People, Cat People — even a few elves passing by couldn't resist stopping to look twice.
The Holy Emperor shrank slightly, visibly ill at ease.
After all.
Back in her old world, whenever she went out she was either sealed inside a bulletproof vehicle or standing on the elevated platform of the Holy Residence. Even when facing the public, there had always been an enormous distance between them.
Being this exposed — completely unshielded — in such a mixed crowd, with this many pairs of eyes on her. Not just human eyes. Eyes belonging to people with beast ears, even tusks.
This was an experience she had never once had before.
In particular, the adventurers' stares triggered an instinctive unease in her.
Is the public order here really all right? Could someone dangerous suddenly come charging out of nowhere?
At that thought, the Holy Emperor's steps grew stiff. Her hands clutched her skirt tightly, her gaze drifted around in something close to panic, and her body edged closer to Haimer's side almost without her realizing it.
As though only near him could she find a sliver of safety.
Haimer noticed her movement.
He said nothing.
He simply slowed his pace and turned slightly to one side.
And then.
Very naturally, he extended one hand.
A slender, strong hand, offered out toward her.
The Holy Emperor startled and looked up.
And met Haimer's smiling eyes looking straight back at her.
"What's the matter?"
"The Holy Emperor who stood her ground before thousands of rioters without flinching — and now she's afraid of a few passersby looking her way?"
Haimer's tone was easy, his smile lightly teasing.
The Holy Emperor's cheeks flushed. She muttered a small, stubborn defense.
"I'm just... not used to it."
"After all, I've... never walked down a street like this before."
"Then hold on to me."
Haimer smiled gently, making no move to call out her small moment of weakness.
He simply extended his hand a fraction further.
"I don't think anyone in this place would dare lay a finger on you while I'm standing here."
"But."
"Since you're my Familia — why not give your Chief God the chance to play the overprotective patron?"
"And while we're at it, let these people know."
"This flower already has an owner."
— This flower... already has an owner...
The Holy Emperor stared at that outstretched hand.
Her heart skipped a full beat.
Those words echoed around and around inside her mind.
And so.
The Holy Emperor bit her lower lip lightly. She hesitated for less than half a second.
Then, as though she had made up her mind about something, she quickly reached out and placed her gloved hand — cool beneath the white fabric — into Haimer's palm.
And held on tight.
Haimer closed his hand around hers in return, enveloping that soft hand completely in his palm.
Warmth transferred instantly.
Then.
Haimer, hand in hand with the Holy Emperor, raised his gaze and swept a calm, unhurried glance over all those watching eyes in the crowd around them.
Not a hint of aggression on his face.
If anything, that faint, familiar half-smile still rested at the corner of his mouth.
But in that single moment.
The people who had been whispering all around them — like ducks that had suddenly been seized by the throat.
Went utterly silent in an instant.
Even the air seemed to freeze for a full second.
Because.
By now, nearly everyone in Orario had committed these features to memory.
Black hair. Black eyes.
That signature, unhurried smile.
And the goddess with the blue ribbon.
This was the Familia that had been setting every tongue in Orario wagging these past several days.
— The Chief God of [Haimer Familia].
— Haimer.
In the span of just a few short days.
This Familia's members had gone from complete unknowns to an all-Lv.2 monstrosity that had left everyone stunned.
And their track record was nothing short of terrifying.
In particular, the black-haired woman called Amou Kirukiru — even before the Guild had formally given her an alias, she had already carved out a fearsome reputation in the Dungeon, earning herself the title: "The Monster Wearing a Human Skin."
She had shattered the preconceptions of everyone who heard of her.
And the Chief God capable of reining in monsters like these.
That black-haired male god.
Made people wary of him in equal measure.
After all.
The story of the Guild's Pig Person bowing and scraping before him had already made the rounds all across Orario.
"Is that... Lord Haimer..."
"The Chief God of Haimer Familia?"
"So that silver-haired woman is his Familia member?"
"Shh! Keep it down!"
"Stop staring! You'll bring trouble on yourself!"
A ripple of hushed, choked-back gasps ran through the crowd.
And immediately after.
The gazes that had been inquisitive until moments ago — some of them even a little brazen — shifted in an instant.
From simple admiration, to deep, serious wariness.
Even outright fear.
After all.
Being chosen by that man...
That silver-haired woman...
She might well be some sort of monster wearing a human skin too.
Just like Amou Kirukiru.
Once that idea took root in the mind, there was no shaking it loose.
Not a few people instinctively stepped back several paces, widening the gap, as though some invisible force field were pushing them away.
The road that had been packed with people moments before actually began to open up — all because of that wariness.
Seeing this.
The Holy Emperor couldn't help but stare.
She couldn't understand what those people were saying, couldn't make out the specific whispers.
But the shift in those gazes — that, she could feel with perfect clarity.
From naked, shameless staring, to awe.
And all of it.
Was because the man beside her had quietly taken her hand and stood there.
Without doing anything else at all.
"It seems..."
"In this city where gods and mortals coexist."
"You are quite the exceptional presence, aren't you, Kami-sama?"
The Holy Emperor said softly.
That feeling of being protected allowed the tension gripping her nerves to finally unwind.
It was like a pack of hyenas that had been running unchecked across open ground, only to realize a lion had entered their territory — and so they had no choice but to tuck their tails and slink away whimpering.
This feeling. She knew it well.
Back in that lofty Holy Residence, when she would emerge from behind the bulletproof glass to face the powerful and the officials — the atmosphere had been exactly this.
"Exceptional?"
"Perhaps."
"After all, even back in the Heavens, I was among the more... notable figures in divine circles."
"Though it's the kind of notoriety that most gods prefer not to bring up once they've descended to the Lower World."
Haimer shrugged and glossed over it with a light wave.
---
Meanwhile.
The plaza before Babel Tower.
This was the one path all adventurers had to pass through to enter the Dungeon — and one of Orario's most bustling districts.
At this hour.
It was peak time for adventurers returning to the surface.
The plaza was a dense weave of foot traffic, adventurers who had just emerged from the Dungeon everywhere you looked. Some returned laden with loot, faces bright with triumph; others nursed heavy wounds, leaning on companions as they hurried away.
In one corner of the plaza, near the fountain.
A cluster of girls had gathered, standing out from the crowd.
"She's still not back? That woman..."
Onigawara Rin held her already-repaired prized blade — "Black Crow" — and leaned against the fountain's edge.
She had changed into a light, practical swordsman's outfit. Without her mask, her clean, fine-featured face was fixed unblinking on the exit of Babel Tower.
"Should be soon, I'd think."
Beside her, Kikakujou Mary was polishing her western sword with a handkerchief, letting out a somewhat resigned sigh.
"She said she wanted to go a few more floors — she probably just got into the swing of it."
"That battle-hungry lunatic..."
"Once she steps foot in the Dungeon, she's like a horse that's slipped its bridle."
Onigawara Rin pressed her lips together. Though she complained, her eyes held no real blame.
If anything, buried very deep beneath the surface, there was something resembling envy.
Because.
That pure, unadulterated craving for combat.
Was precisely what she herself currently lacked.
Right then.
A stir ran through the crowd.
From the wide entrance of Babel Tower.
A silhouette radiating a staggering, murderous aura stepped slowly into view.
Black hair, black eyes. Tall and lithe.
It was Amou Kirukiru.
The light armor she wore was covered in dried, dark-red bloodstains.
Even her face had a few fresh-red drops splattered across it.
But she herself didn't seem to notice — or didn't care.
Instead, a satisfied smile played at the corner of her mouth, like a lion that had just finished a feast, still savoring the taste of blood.
In one hand.
She dragged an enormous burlap sack.
Bulging and stuffed to bursting.
Impossibly heavy.
Packed full of high-purity Magic Stones and monster materials.
As she walked, the sack scraped across the ground with a low, dull dragging sound.
Skrrrrt—
Skrrrrt—
The sound of canvas grinding against stone-paved road.
Adventurers in the area who caught sight of her scattered to either side as if they'd seen a ghost, clearing a wide open path.
That thick, overwhelming stench of blood — combined with the unmasked, still-boiling murderous energy rolling off her in waves — was enough to make even seasoned Lv.3 adventurers flinch.
"Hey, that's that woman..."
"What's she got in the bag — is that... a Minotaur horn poking out?"
"Look at the size of it..."
"You mean she just killed a Minotaur down there?"
"With that bag's size — there's more than one. Easily seven or eight in there..."
"She went down alone in light armor and killed a whole pack of Minotaurs — is she even human?"
"Shh, keep your voice down — don't let her hear you. I've heard this one has a nasty temper."
The whispers were soaked through with awe.
As for the murmuring around her.
Amou Kirukiru paid it no mind whatsoever.
Or rather.
The voices of the weak simply didn't reach her ears.
She walked in a straight line toward where Onigawara Rin and the others were waiting.
Reached the fountain.
And tossed that enormous, heavy sack of spoils onto the ground without ceremony.
THUD!
A dull, heavy impact. The mouth of the sack burst open from the force.
Clatter, clatter, clatter.
Several high-purity Magic Stones rolled out, catching the light of the setting sun and glittering.
And right behind them — a few massive, broken horns still threaded with dried blood emerged from the gap.
Minotaur horns.
____
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