The next morning, the three of them gathered in their inn room.
Sunlight filtered through the window as they sat around the small table, discussing their next steps and the rumors spreading throughout town.
Celestia placed a small pouch of coins on the table.
"I sold most of the magic stones we collected," she said.
The pouch clinked softly.
"But we should hold onto the Floor Guardian's crystal for now."
Azura nodded.
"I overheard people talking in the streets," she said.
"Many adventurers have noticed that the floor guardian has disappeared."
Her ears twitched slightly.
"Of course, no one knows who defeated it."
Celestia leaned back in her chair.
"Not surprising," she said calmly.
"Team Starburst was busy handing out maps of the fifth floor yesterday."
"And Team Sunrise were seen taking the day off."
She shrugged.
"So naturally those two teams are the main suspects."
River smiled.
"No one would suspect a brand-new team like us."
Inside the Bible, Buer chuckled.
"You're lucky."
His tone was teasing.
"You only won that fight yesterday through absurd luck."
"That alone will keep people from suspecting you."
River ignored the jab.
Celestia suddenly crossed her arms.
"You've had a stressful few days," she said firmly.
"So today, you're taking a day off."
River blinked.
"I'm fine."
He stretched slightly.
"The clerics healed all my injuries. I'm perfectly capable of going back into the dungeon."
Celestia shook her head.
"No."
Her voice left no room for argument.
"You're taking a day off."
Azura nodded firmly beside her.
"Yes."
River raised an eyebrow.
"…Or else what?"
Azura froze.
She opened her mouth—
"…Or else I'll…"
She struggled to think of something threatening.
"…I'll…"
Azura's ears drooped slightly as she panicked.
"Listen," Celestia said with a sigh, "just try to take the day off, okay? Stubborn idiot."
Azura nodded quickly beside her.
"Yes. Day off."
River looked between the two of them.
Then he sighed.
"…Fine. I guess I'll take the day off."
Celestia immediately smiled.
"Good."
She grabbed Azura by the wrist and pulled her toward the door.
"I'm taking Azura shopping."
She pointed back at River as they stepped outside.
"And don't get into any trouble, okay?"
The door closed behind them.
The room fell quiet.
A moment passed.
Then Buer spoke.
"Day off, huh?" the demon chuckled from inside the Bible.
"Want to light an orphanage on fire?"
He paused.
"Or maybe visit a brothel and finally lose some of that innocence of yours?"
River stared at the book.
"…Fire?"
He walked over and picked it up.
"Do you really want me playing with fire while you're literally made of paper?"
Buer paused.
"…Fair point."
Then he perked up again.
"But the brothel is still a great idea!"
His voice sounded excited.
"Come on! Every adventurer goes to those places."
River sighed deeply.
He walked over to the bed.
"I'm leaving you here."
Before Buer could react—
Thump.
River tossed the Bible onto the mattress.
"Hey! Hey! No fair!" Buer complained.
"I get lonely!"
River walked to the door.
"Try reflecting on your sins."
Then he stepped outside and closed the door behind him.
River wandered through the streets of Stonehelm.
For once, he didn't have a plan.
No dungeon.
No monsters.
No arguments with party members.
Just… a day off.
He had a decent amount of money from the last hunt, so he considered maybe buying something nice to eat.
Or maybe looking at equipment shops.
He was still thinking when—
"Excuse me, deary."
River turned.
An elderly woman stood beside the street.
She had short gray hair, a face covered in gentle wrinkles, and wore a simple flower-patterned dress.
Her eyes were unusual.
One was blue.
The other was green.
"My back isn't what it used to be," she said with a small sigh. "And my cane seems to have broken."
She leaned slightly forward.
"Would you mind helping a poor old lady?"
River blinked.
"Um… sure."
Then the woman grabbed onto River's staff.
The Onyx January.
"Here, let me borrow this cane for a moment," she said casually.
Before River could react—
She pulled it out of his hands.
With surprising strength.
"W–wait!" River said, stumbling forward. "That's important!"
The old woman chuckled softly.
"Of course it is, deary."
She twirled the staff once in her hand.
"After all… it's one of the Thirteen Masterpieces created by Pharos."
River froze.
"H-how do you know that?"
His eyes widened.
"Who are you?"
The old woman simply smiled.
Then she turned around.
"Catch me if you can."
And started running.
"…HEY!"
River immediately cast wind magic.
A burst of air pushed him forward as he sprinted after her.
But something was wrong.
That old woman—
The one who had just complained about her back—
Was running faster than him.
River pushed more wind magic into his legs.
Still—
She stayed ahead of him easily.
The strangest part?
No one around them reacted.
Merchants continued selling goods.
Adventurers chatted casually.
Children played in the streets.
No one seemed to notice the bizarre chase happening right in front of them.
It was as if—
No one else could see it.
She led him deeper into town.
The streets gradually emptied.
Soon they reached a quiet district where only a few people passed by.
The woman suddenly turned into a narrow alleyway.
River followed.
When he stepped inside, the path behind him was already clear.
No one else was around.
"Alright," River said, catching his breath.
"I've got you cornered."
He raised his hand slightly, ready to cast a spell if needed.
"Who are you?"
The old woman smiled.
Then—
Snap.
She snapped her fingers.
Her body began to change.
Her skin bubbled and shifted as if it were melting wax.
Her form stretched taller.
Gray hair lengthened and turned into flowing blonde strands. Wrinkles vanished from her face as her features sharpened into something far younger.
More masculine.
Her ears elongated, becoming distinctly elven.
Within seconds, the frail old woman was gone.
Standing in her place was a man who looked to be in his early thirties.
He had long blonde hair, elegant features, and the same mismatched eyes—
One blue.
One green.
Even his clothing changed.
Black dress shoes.
White pants.
A long white coat trimmed with red accents, worn open across the chest.
He looked refined.
Dangerous.
Ancient.
In River's hands, the Onyx January suddenly began to tremble.
The staff twisted violently, letting out a faint metallic shriek as if it were alive.
It didn't want to be here.
It didn't want to be near this man.
The stranger sighed softly.
"Naughty beast."
His voice was calm.
"Go to sleep."
Before River could react—
The man grabbed the staff.
Then slammed it against the alley wall.
The weapon instantly softened.
The black metal melted like liquid.
Its shape collapsed inward until it became a small black orb with a crimson crystal embedded in its center.
"My name is Pharos."
The man gave a polite bow.
"It's a pleasure to meet the wielder of one of my creations."
River froze.
"Ph-Pharos…?"
His eyes widened in disbelief.
The Child of Alchemy.
The World's Greatest Heretic.
A man who mocked demon lords and gods alike.
A mad genius who hunted powerful beings—humans, monsters, even saints—just to melt their bodies down into weapons.
Not for conquest.
Not for glory.
Simply for the thrill of creating something new.
And the most terrifying part?
Pharos had almost never used a single one of his Thirteen Masterpieces himself.
"They were always meant to be toys for others," Pharos said pleasantly.
"Whenever I hear that one of them has found a new owner…"
His smile widened slightly.
"I like to meet them."
River's breathing became uneven.
Pharos spoke gently.
Almost kindly.
But River could feel it.
The suffocating pressure radiating from him.
One wrong move—
And he would die instantly.
Pharos stepped closer.
River instinctively stepped back.
Too slow.
Pharos suddenly grabbed him by the hair and lifted him off the ground.
River gasped.
"Hmm."
Pharos studied his face closely.
"You look familiar."
His mismatched eyes narrowed slightly.
"Tell me."
"What are your parents' names?"
"I… I don't know," River choked out, struggling in his grip.
"They abandoned me when I was a baby."
Pharos tilted his head.
"Your name is River, correct?"
River nodded weakly.
Pharos smiled.
Then suddenly released him.
River dropped to the ground, coughing as he caught his breath.
"I grant you permission to wield the Onyx January," Pharos said casually.
"You're a very interesting human."
His smile carried a strange, wicked amusement.
River quickly stood.
"You mentioned my parents."
His voice trembled slightly.
"Do you know them?"
"Tell me!"
Pharos turned slightly, already beginning to walk away.
"I won't reveal too much," he said lightly.
"But I will give you a small hint."
He glanced back over his shoulder.
"The reason you were abandoned…"
"…was because your father murdered your mother shortly after you were born."
River's mind went blank.
"W-what…?"
Pharos chuckled.
"He strangled the poor girl to death."
River felt his stomach twist.
Pharos continued walking down the alley.
"Afterward, he dropped you off at that orphanage."
His voice was almost conversational.
"The only thing you had with you was a small name tag."
He glanced back one last time.
"'River.'"
River clenched his fists.
"T-tell me!"
His voice cracked.
"Who is my father?!"
Pharos stopped briefly.
Then he smiled.
"Find that out yourself."
His tone was almost playful.
"It will feel far more rewarding that way."
And with that—
He walked away.
Leaving River standing alone in the alley.
Completely shaken.
River left the alley not long after.
His steps were slow as he made his way back toward the inn.
His mind felt heavy.
Pharos' words echoed endlessly in his thoughts.
He had always assumed his parents were terrible people.
After all, red-eyes were said to be the descendants of those who had made deals with demons.
That alone meant his family must have done something terrible.
But this…
This was different.
For his own father to murder his mother—
It was too cruel.
River clenched his fists as he walked.
His thoughts were a tangled mess.
Before he realized it—
Thud.
He bumped into someone.
"Oh—sorry," River said automatically.
The man he had collided with stood still.
He was tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Muscular.
Dark skin contrasted with medium-length blonde hair, and his crimson eyes looked down at River with mild irritation.
River's gaze slowly lowered.
Then he noticed something.
The man's hands were covered in blood.
Fresh blood.
The man quickly ran a hand through his hair.
"Damn it," he muttered.
"I'm always careless."
He glanced around the empty street.
Then he leaned closer to River.
"Listen, kid."
His voice dropped slightly.
"Pretend you didn't see anything."
River blinked.
"…Why are your hands covered in blood?"
The man sighed.
"Of course you'd ask that."
He rolled his shoulders slightly.
"Fine."
His expression hardened.
"Guess we'll do this the hard way."
The man reached into a bag of holding hanging at his side.
Then slowly pulled out a massive axe.
The blade gleamed darkly in the fading light.
The man rested it casually on his shoulder.
His crimson eyes locked onto River.
"Name's Roe, commit to memory as I send you to the afterlife."