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Days passed after that strange night.
Fortunately, since the meeting in the dream world, Rudra had never again infiltrated Shirou's sleep. There were no more strange winds appearing in the field of swords; no more divine voices disturbing the tranquility of his inner world.
However, that didn't truly put Shirou at ease.
Every time he closed his eyes at night, part of his consciousness remained on guard. His instinct was like waiting for something—as if at any moment, the sky of that dream could split open again and that flamboyant figure could reappear from the vortex of wind.
But day after day passed.
And Rudra did not come.
Even so, their conversation never truly left his mind.
The god's words were embedded too deeply.
Monsters that can think.
Monsters that have pride.
Monsters that have feelings.
That concept kept spinning in his head like an unsolved puzzle.
One morning, Shirou stood in the small kitchen of Twilight Manor with Lefiya. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the wooden table where various ingredients were neatly arranged.
He was cutting vegetables with a kitchen knife. His movements were automatic, like a habit performed hundreds of times.
Tok... tok... tok...
But his mind wasn't fully there.
"Shirou?" Lefiya's voice suddenly called.
Shirou snapped out of it and turned.
The young elf stood beside him, holding a bowl of dough. Her face showed slight confusion.
"You've been daydreaming," she said, suspicious. "You almost chopped that carrot into mush."
Shirou blinked, then looked at the cutting board in front of him.
The carrot pieces there were indeed... a bit irregular.
"Ah... sorry," he muttered, scratching his head. "I was just thinking."
Lefiya narrowed her eyes.
"Thinking about what?"
Shirou opened his mouth briefly, then closed it again.
There was no way he could explain that he was pondering the possibility of monsters possessing consciousness like humans.
Finally, he just shrugged.
"Nothing important."
Lefiya let out a small huff, though she didn't press further. She went back to stirring the dough while muttering something about "a guy who likes keeping secrets."
Even after that small conversation ended, Shirou's thoughts remained stuck on the same topic.
Even as he walked through the streets of Orario in the afternoon—passing through the bustle of merchants, the chatter of adventurers, and the aroma of food from street stalls—his mind sometimes drifted back to that same question.
If there really were monsters that could think like humans...
If there really were monsters that had feelings...
Then how many of them lived in the Dungeon without anyone realizing it?
Shirou's pace slowed slightly as that thought surfaced again.
He let out a soft sigh.
The conversation with Rudra had left a much deeper mark than he had expected.
Without truly realizing it, Shirou's steps led him to the center of Orario. The hustle and bustle that had surrounded him slowly faded, replaced by a more solid and orderly atmosphere.
Babel Tower loomed before him.
The colossal structure stood like the axis of the world; its shadow stretched long across the ground. In front of it, a large spiral staircase led downward—the gateway to the Dungeon that never slept.
Shirou paused for a moment.
The city wind blew gently, carrying the sound of adventurers' footsteps going up and down endlessly.
"...Alright," he muttered softly.
Instead of returning or continuing to walk aimlessly, he turned to face the staircase. No lengthy preparation, no elaborate plan.
He just... wanted to go down.
For most adventurers, entering the dungeon meant checking equipment, ensuring weapons were in prime condition, bringing potions, and devising strategies.
But Shirou was different.
He only wore a simple tunic and ordinary trousers—nothing about him indicated he was ready to face the dangers below.
He glanced around.
The crowd made it easy for him to disappear among the people.
With casual steps, he slipped into a narrow alley near Babel. The place was quiet enough, only shadows and stone walls accompanying him.
Shirou raised his hand.
"Trace... on."
A faint blue light enveloped his body.
In an instant, the simple clothes transformed. Light armor formed along the contours of his body—not too flashy, but sufficient for protection. A helmet materialized, covering his face completely. At his waist, a sheathed sword hung steadily.
The transformation was complete in seconds.
Shirou took a short breath, then stepped out of the alley as if nothing had happened.
He immediately blended in with the other adventurers walking toward the spiral staircase. No one paid him any particular attention—among so many armed people, he was just one among many.
However, Shirou's objective this time was different.
He wasn't just coming to hunt monsters.
His mind returned to the conversation with Rudra about human-like monsters.
Shirou stared at the dark entrance of the Dungeon.
"If they really exist..." he muttered inwardly, "I want to see for myself."
His steps were steady as he began descending the spiral staircase.
With a strange purpose—and probably insane by anyone else's standards.
Shirou entered the Dungeon.
He descended floor after floor with one question constantly nagging at his mind.
Where should he even begin?
Sentient monsters—monsters that could think and speak—had never even been recorded in Orario's history. No guide. No clues. No theories he could follow.
He sighed.
"If that's the case... I'll just use the simplest method."
Shirou scratched his cheek beneath his helmet.
"Find it myself."
His method?
Brute force.
In other words, the most ridiculous approach he could think of.
He would... talk directly to monsters.
...
Floor 1.
A goblin emerged from behind a rock, growling as it raised its wooden club.
"Grrraa—!"
Shirou raised his hand, stopping in his tracks.
"Hold on."
The goblin stopped.
Probably confused.
Shirou cleared his throat.
"Ahem... excuse me. Can you talk for a moment?"
The goblin stared at him blankly.
Then—
"GRAAA!!"
The club swung.
"Yeah, I figured as much."
SHING!
One slash.
Done.
...
Floor 6.
A War Shadow emerged from the dungeon wall. Its body moved like a shifting liquid shadow.
"Woooo—"
Shirou immediately raised his hand again.
"Sorry to interrupt. Can we chat for a bit?"
The creature approached.
Closer.
Then let out a long, spine-chilling howl.
"WOOOOOOOO—!"
Shirou sighed.
"Okay... that's not a language I understand."
CLANG!
The blade flashed.
The War Shadow vanished.
...
A few adventurers passing by stopped briefly, staring at Shirou with strange expressions.
"Did... he just talk to that monster?"
"Yeah... I saw it too."
"Looks like he's stressed..."
"The dungeon is claiming another victim..."
Shirou could feel his cheeks heating up beneath his helmet.
"This isn't stress..." he muttered quietly. "This is just research."
But his voice was too soft to convince anyone, including himself.
...
Next Floor.
A large Orc appeared, growling as it raised its axe.
"GRRR—!"
Shirou raised his hand.
"Okay, let's try again. Hello. My name is Shirou. Can you—"
"GRAAA!!"
The axe swung.
Shirou dodged narrowly.
"Yeah, yeah... straight to violence, huh."
SHING!
The Orc fell.
"Zero conversational etiquette."
...
Deeper Floor.
A Minotaur.
The massive creature stomped the ground hard—DOOM!—snorting hot breath from its nose.
Shirou took a breath.
"Alright. You look smarter. Let's try a more polite approach."
He stood straight.
"Good afternoon. Would you be willing to—"
"MOOOOO!!"
The Minotaur charged immediately.
Shirou reflexively jumped aside.
"Okay, that's a clear answer."
The battle was brief.
A few seconds later—
The Minotaur collapsed.
Shirou stood still, watching the body begin to turn to ash.
"And I even used formal language..."
He sighed heavily.
...
And so it went.
Floor after floor.
Monster after monster.
Shirou tried to talk, to ask, even seriously introduced himself at one point—only to always receive the same answer.
Attacks.
Roars.
Or death.
One-sided conversations.
"My name is Shirou—"
SHING!
"I actually just wanted to—"
CLANG!
"If you could answer—"
BOOM!
Every attempt ended the same.
Shirou finally stood in the middle of a Dungeon corridor, surrounded by the fading ashes of monsters slowly disappearing.
He rubbed his face under his helmet.
"...This is harder than I thought."
But he didn't stop, because he had no other way.
The strange scenario repeated itself without results. From the early floors to deeper ones, Shirou kept trying to talk to every monster he encountered—and every time, his efforts ended the same way: counterattacks and brief fights.
Until finally, without realizing it, his steps led him to the eighteenth floor.
The safe point.
Rivira.
The atmosphere changed instantly. There were no more echoing footsteps of monsters or the faint scent of blood from battles. What could be heard instead were the voices of adventurers, haggling, and the clinking of tools being bought and sold.
Shirou walked casually through the crowd, still wearing his projected armor. He stopped at a vendor, placing a few small magic stones he'd gathered earlier.
"Just a regular potion," he said briefly.
The vendor nodded, quickly preparing a small bottle containing red liquid. The transaction was swift. Shirou took the potion and stored it.
But his mind wasn't there.
He stood for a moment at the edge of the path, watching the passing adventurers, but his eyes were vacant. His thoughts returned to his efforts from earlier.
"I should have known..." he murmured.
The chance of finding a sentient monster in a single trip was almost impossible. Even if they truly existed, their numbers were surely very few. Maybe they were hidden. Maybe they avoided humans.
There was no way he'd just stumble upon one.
Shirou sighed.
"That means... I have to keep trying."
Over and over.
Day after day.
Until luck was on his side.
He looked at his own hand for a moment, then clenched it.
However, there was one other thing that made everything more complicated.
He couldn't ask anyone for help.
Not even the Loki Familia.
This information... was too dangerous. It all started with Rudra—with that dream. If he opened his mouth and told the whole story, questions would arise. And if they dug too deep...
The truth about himself.
About how he "killed" a god.
Shirou closed his eyes for a moment.
"No... that can't happen."
He didn't want to drag anyone into the problem he had created.
But on the other hand, a small whisper arose in his mind.
What if all of this... was just a lie?
What if Rudra was just playing with him?
Making him wander around the dungeon like a fool, talking to monsters?
Shirou slowly opened his eyes.
The doubt was there.
Real.
He just shook his head gently.
"No point in stopping now."
Even if there was a possibility that it was all just a god's game, he still had to confirm it himself.
Shirou straightened his body, then turned away from the crowds of Rivira. His steps led back to the Dungeon corridors, deeper into the place where danger waited.
And maybe—
The answers were there, too.
"Hopefully this time..." he murmured.
He continued his journey, descending into the darkness of the Dungeon once again.
Floors nineteen through twenty-four greeted Shirou with a scene vastly different from the upper levels. The narrow stone walls gave way to a wild forest—trees reaching high, roots sprawling like natural traps, and dim light from Dungeon crystals piercing through the gaps in the leaves.
The air felt more humid.
More alive.
And far more dangerous.
But Shirou didn't stop.
He continued his... questionable method.
A Hobgoblin emerged from behind a bush, its eyes blazing with murderous intent. Shirou immediately raised his hand.
"Wait, let's try—"
"GRAAA!!"
"...yeah, of course."
SHING!
In one swift motion, his short sword cut cleanly. The Hobgoblin's body crumbled to ash, leaving a faintly glowing magic stone on the ground.
Before he could pick it up—
BZZZZZ—!
A swarm of Deadly Hornets materialized from the air; their buzzing filled the forest like a death alarm.
Shirou sighed.
"Okay, this one might be harder to chat with..."
He still tried.
"Hello? Can you guys—"
SREEEEEE!!
"Can't talk, huh."
He leaped sideways, dodging the first sting, then spun his body.
SWISH! SWISH!
Several stingers were deflected; the rest were destroyed with quick slashes. In seconds, the swarm turned into scattering black dust.
Not done yet.
The ground trembled.
DUM! DUM!
A Battle Boar charged out from behind the trees, its tusks sharp, its eyes red with rage.
Shirou raised his sword.
"Alright... you're the last one. If you can answer—"
"GRRRRRAAA!!"
"...yeah, I wasn't expecting much."
The charge was stopped with a sidestep, then—
CRASH!
His sword struck the creature's neck.
Done.
The forest fell silent again, leaving only the soft rustling of leaves.
Shirou stood in the middle of the area, breathing a long sigh. Around him, several small magic stones lay scattered—the results of another failed experiment.
He picked them up one by one.
"Another one-sided conversation..." he murmured.
And like before—
It all ended the same.
He tried to talk.
They attacked.
He struck back.
And finally... they died.
Shirou gazed at the forest before him.
To be honest—
He was starting to feel a little disappointed.
"If they really exist..." he said softly, "why haven't I found a single one?"
Yet, his steps didn't stop.
He kept walking, passing the boundary where the forest gradually changed. Trees began to thin, replaced by large boulders. The sound of trickling water grew audible, clearer with each step.
Floor twenty-five.
The forest ended, replaced by a rocky landscape with a river flowing swiftly in one direction—towards a large waterfall known as the Great Fall.
Shirou followed the water's flow.
And then—
He stopped.
Before him, a high cliff rose near the waterfall. Water spray created a fine mist that shimmered in the air.
There—
Several figures perched.
A flock of harpies.
Their wings were folded, their bodies perched on high rocks, their silhouettes clear against the water mist.
Shirou froze.
The shimmer of their feathers caught the light from the waterfall. Vivid colors—blue, green, yellow, and red—gleamed like a living rainbow. The sight instantly reminded Shirou of one figure.
The harpy he had buried.
Feathers colored like a peacock.
For a moment, his chest felt tight.
But the reverie didn't last long.
One of the harpies tilted its head, then—
"SKREEEE—!"
A piercing shriek shattered the air.
In an instant, the whole flock moved. Wings beat hard, wind swirling around them as several dove straight from the cliff towards Shirou.
His presence had been noticed.
Shirou took a short breath.
"Alright... let's try again."
He raised his hand, even as the shadows of wings began to cover his vision.
"Hello. My name is Shirou Emiya—"
SWOOSH!
One harpy swooped from the side. Shirou immediately spun his body, avoiding claws that almost tore into his shoulder.
"...I just want to talk."
"SKREEEE!!"
The only answer he received was a harsh shriek.
Another came from above.
Shirou raised his sword.
CLANG!
A sharp beak struck the blade, small sparks flying as they clashed. He pushed back, sending the harpy reeling back into the air.
But the others were already closing in.
From the front.
From behind.
From above.
He was surrounded.
Shirou stepped back one pace, then two, adjusting his position while continuously dodging the relentless attacks.
"I don't want to fight!" he exclaimed, even though he himself was aware of how futile the words were.
Claws slashed in front of his face.
He ducked.
A bite aimed for his neck.
He tilted his head.
One harpy tried to grab his arm—Shirou twisted his wrist, deflecting with the sword's hilt.
"Listen first!" he said again, slightly out of breath.
But what he received remained the same.
Attacks.
Shrieks.
Wild bites.
In between the movements, he still tried.
"Do you... know—"
WHOOSH!
He jumped sideways, dodging a flurry of attacks.
"...a harpy—"
CLANG!
His sword blocked another claw.
"...with feathers like a peacock?"
For a moment, only the sound of beating wings and harsh cries answered.
"SKREEEEE!!"
No change.
No sign of understanding.
No different reaction.
Only the same aggression.
Shirou looked at them amidst the rapid movements, his breathing starting to grow heavy.
"So... same as always."
His words were almost drowned out by the commotion of wings and the sound of the waterfall.
No answer.
No conversation.
Only a one-sided dialogue—which, as usual... ended in battle.
One of the harpies suddenly struck from an unexpected side. Its claws gripped Shirou's helmet tightly, then—
CRAAK!
The helmet was torn from his head and flung far behind, tumoring across the rocky ground.
Wind from the beating wings immediately struck Shirou's now-exposed face. His red hair whipped wildly; his eyes narrowed against the next attack.
But this time—
He didn't just evade.
The same harpy lunged again, its beak wide open, ready to tear.
Shirou stepped forward.
His empty left hand moved swiftly, gripping the creature's neck just before the attack landed.
"Got you."
With one hard pull, he flipped the harpy's body downward, then—
BAM!
Its body slammed into the ground.
Dust and stone fragments rose.
The harpy shrieked loudly; its panicked voice screeched erratically.
"SKREEE—!"
It struggled, clawing at the air, trying to break free from Shirou's grip.
But the hold was too strong.
Shirou stared at the face of the creature beneath him.
And for the first time—
He truly looked at it.
That face...
It wasn't like a human's.
Its skin was rough, its facial features sharp and disproportionate. Its teeth were long and pointed, jutting out in a grotesque manner. Its eyes were wild, full of instinct without intelligence.
It looked more like a frightening creature of legend than a living being.
Like... a witch from a horror story.
Shirou was silent for a moment.
Then—
The words resurfaced in his head.
Rudra's voice.
"Try looking at her face... isn't it strange?"
"Soft."
"Beautiful."
The memory of the peacock-patterned harpy girl surfaced clearly.
Long, dark greenish-black hair.
A smooth face.
An expression... that wasn't wild.
Shirou looked at the harpy beneath him again.
Then compared them.
And the difference—
Was too stark.
As if they were from two different worlds.
Suddenly, something clicked in his mind.
"...I was wrong from the start."
His breath caught.
All the monsters he had encountered so far—goblins, orcs, minotaurs, even the harpy in front of him—were all the same.
They were wild beasts.
Just instinct.
No sign of consciousness.
But that harpy girl was different.
Her face.
Her aura.
The way she died... even while hanging on the wall, she hadn't looked like a creature that had lost its mind.
Shirou's eyes widened slightly.
"So that's it..."
Understanding finally formed.
Monsters that possessed consciousness—
Were not only different in behavior.
But also in appearance.
They... would look more human.
Unlike the creatures he was facing now.
Shirou released his grip.
The harpy immediately flew back in panic, rejoining the flock still circling in the air.
But Shirou didn't attack immediately.
He just stood still in the middle of the encirclement.
Because now—
He finally knew what to look for.
The harpy flock spread out again in the air, beating their wings in an ever-tightening circle. They didn't attack immediately, as if waiting for an opening—searching for a moment when the prey below them would be careless.
The sound of beating wings filled the area near the waterfall.
FWOOSH... FWOOSH...
Shirou stood in the middle of that circle, his breathing already steady again. His gaze was now different from before—calmer, more focused.
He had already found his answer.
And these creatures... weren't what he was looking for.
Shirou slowly raised his right hand.
"Trace... on."
A faint blue light pulsed around him.
In an instant, blades appeared in the air—one, two, five... until there were over a dozen. They hovered above and around Shirou, their tips aimed at the harpy flock still circling.
The monsters hadn't realized it yet.
Or perhaps—it was already too late to realize.
Shirou moved his finger slightly.
"Go."
SHING! SHING! SHING!
The blades shot out simultaneously, cutting through the air like a shower of lightning.
The harpies tried to dodge—scattering, spinning, diving—
But the attacks came from all directions.
THUD!—CRACK!—SPLASH!
One by one, they were pierced.
Some fell before they could scream.
Some stopped mid-air, then shattered.
Their shrieks were cut off, replaced by the sound of bodies breaking into ash.
In seconds—
The sky above the cliff was empty again.
Only black dust slowly carried away by the wind... and a few magic stones falling to the rocky ground.
Silence.
Shirou lowered his hand.
He walked slowly, picking up the remaining magic stones one by one, his movements calm as if it were just a routine. After that, he walked to where his helmet had been thrown.
He picked it up, dusted off the debris clinging to it, and put it back on.
His face was hidden again.
But his mind was now much clearer.
"So... that's the criterion," he murmured.
The monster he was looking for wasn't just about being able to talk.
But also... possessing a form closer to human.
That meant his search so far—
Hadn't been entirely in vain.
He turned, facing the path back.
The decision came without hesitation.
He would return to the surface.
Prepare himself.
And next time... he would search in a more precise way.
His steps began moving away from the waterfall.
But after a few paces—
He stopped.
A feeling pricked at him.
As if something was watching him from behind the rocks, from behind the shadows unseen.
Shirou looked back.
His gaze swept over the cliff area, the river, and the lingering mist of the waterfall.
There was nothing.
Only silence.
He stared for a few more seconds.
Then let out a soft sigh.
"...I'm being too paranoid."
Shirou turned away again, continuing his steps without looking back.
But in the shadows untouched by light—
Something might have indeed been watching him.
***
Several hours earlier—
In the depths of the Dungeon, far from the paths usually traveled by adventurers, there existed life never recorded in any book.
The Xenos.
Creatures that, in terms of origin, were no different from ordinary monsters. They were still born from the Dungeon walls—emerging from the stone just like other creatures that then wandered.
But they were different.
They thought.
They felt.
They possessed consciousness equal to humans.
And precisely because of that... they had no place.
Humans hunted them without hesitation, regarding them the same as other monsters. Meanwhile, ordinary monsters—which only moved by instinct—attacked them for no reason other than natural impulse.
Two worlds.
And they were rejected by both.
That was why the Xenos gathered. They found each other, helped each other, and slowly formed small communities—hidden villages in the narrow crevices of the Dungeon, places untouched by monster paths.
Places that were... relatively safe.
Even there, that sense of safety was never complete.
There was always a threat.
Always a possibility of being found.
That was why they had a guard system. Taking turns going out, watching the surrounding area, hunting down wild monsters that approached, and ensuring the paths to the village remained hidden.
In one of the corridors near the twentieth floor, not far from a hidden entrance to one of the Xenos villages, two figures moved slowly among the shadows.
They weren't just standing guard.
They were also hunting.
A small monster fell to the ground, its body destroyed before it could fight back. One of the two figures took a soft breath, ensuring the surrounding area was safe.
The first—
A gargoyle-shaped Xenos.
His body was covered in hard gray scales; stone wings were folded on his back. His eyes were red, glowing faintly in the darkness. His posture was upright, standing like a human, different from ordinary gargoyles, which were more hunched and rigid.
He grasped the small stone from their hunt, then turned to his companion.
"This area is clear for now," he said in a deep but clear voice.
Beside him stood the second figure.
An Arachne.
The lower half of her body was that of a large spider, its long legs moving slowly across the ground. In contrast, her upper body was entirely human—a girl.
She wore a helmet covering part of her face, but her short white hair was still visible, contrasting with the darkness of the Dungeon. In her hand, she gripped a spear; its tip still bore remnants of battle.
Her face, partially visible beneath the helmet... was too smooth to be called a monster.
She nodded slightly.
"Don't let your guard down," she answered calmly. "The monsters around here have been more active the past few days."
Her voice was soft, yet firm.
The gargoyle let out a small snort.
"As usual... nowhere is truly safe."
From the other side of the forest, the sound of a commotion suddenly broke out. Leaves rustled, followed by heavy thuds and the shrieks of monsters calling out to each other.
BRRRAAK!—SKREEE!—DUM!
The Arachne immediately turned, her ears pinpointing the direction of the noise quickly.
"You hear that, Gros?" she asked quietly, but alertly.
The gargoyle beside her nodded; his eyes narrowed toward the source of the commotion.
"Yeah, Ranye," he answered briefly. "Must be adventurers. Damn troublemakers."
His tone was clearly displeased.
The two exchanged a glance for a moment, then, without further words, moved quickly. Ranye's legs moved swiftly across the ground, while Gros leaped lightly from rock to rock, approaching the source of the sound cautiously.
They weren't reckless.
Even though they hated adventurers, they weren't killers without reason. Usually, they only observed, making sure no one found the path to their hidden village.
Unless...
If the one coming was a Xenos hunter.
For that kind—
There would be no mercy.
Ranye gripped her spear a little tighter. Bitter memories flashed in her mind—her sisters who had been captured, disappearing without a trace. Their numbers were already too many to count.
Her eyes hardened.
"If he's one of them..." she murmured.
Gros just snorted.
"Then we take him out."
They stopped atop a rocky cliff, hiding in the shadows. From there, they could clearly see the source of the commotion below.
But the sight they saw—
Left them both silent.
An adventurer stood in the middle of a swarm of monsters.
A helmet covered his face.
And instead of immediately slaughtering—
He spoke.
"...hello? Can you hear me?" That faint voice reached their ears.
The monsters around him didn't answer—only attacked, swarming him from all sides.
Yet, the man kept trying.
"If you can understand—wait, not yet—"
CLANG!—SWOOSH!
Attacks came; he dodged, deflected, moved deftly.
But even in the midst of battle—
He was still talking.
Gros furrowed his brow deeply.
"...Is he an idiot?"
His tone was flat, yet clearly full of confusion.
He crossed his arms, staring at the scene as if in disbelief.
"What kind of adventurer talks to monsters while getting ganged up on?"
Beside him, Ranye didn't answer immediately. Her eyes remained fixed on the figure below, observing every movement more carefully.
The way the man fought.
The way he held back at first.
And the way he kept trying... to talk.
"...Maybe it's not that simple," she said quietly.
Gros glanced over.
"Hah?"
Ranye narrowed her eyes.
"Maybe he knows something."
She observed further, especially how the man didn't seem to kill immediately from the start.
"About us."
Gros was silent for a moment.
"Xenos?"
Ranye nodded slowly.
"It's possible he heard rumors... but doesn't have the full picture."
Her gaze remained fixed on Shirou.
"That's why he's trying to befriend every monster."
She exhaled a short breath.
"...but his method is wrong."
Gros snorted softly, clearly unimpressed by Ranye's explanation. He crossed his arms, his gaze still on the figure below, who was now starting to finish his battle.
"Hah... I don't think we need to overthink it," he said with a sneer. "In the end, he's still an adventurer. The outcome's always the same."
Ranye glanced at him. "What do you mean?"
Gros shrugged. "Find something strange, then capture it, sell it, or take it to the black market. Isn't that what they usually do?" His tone was cold. "Xenos or not, in their eyes, we're still merchandise."
Those words were heavy.
Ranye lowered her head slightly, not immediately refuting. Memories of her lost comrades surfaced again—screams, resistance, then... nothing.
Yet, she looked back down.
That adventurer—
Was still trying to speak even while being attacked.
Even when there was clearly no answer.
"...I don't know," she murmured.
Gros raised an eyebrow.
Ranye narrowed her eyes, observing more deeply. "He doesn't look like a hunter," she continued. "More like... he doesn't know anything."
"Clueless?"
Ranye nodded slightly. "Yeah. Like someone who's searching... but doesn't know what they're looking for."
Down below, Shirou finally finished off the remaining monsters swarming him. His movements were quick and efficient—no hesitation, no mercy—but also no hatred whatsoever.
After that, he picked up the magic stones, put his helmet back on, and turned.
His direction was clear.
Towards the twenty-first floor.
Gros watched for a few seconds, then smirked slightly. "Well, whatever it is..." he said casually, "...this is the first time I've seen a clown in the Dungeon."
Ranye glanced at him, sighing softly. "A clown, huh..."
But before she could add anything, Gros had already leaped down from the cliff. "Let's follow him," he said without looking back. "I'm curious what other stupid thing he'll do."
Ranye was silent for a moment.
Then the corner of her lips lifted slightly. "Alright."
That curiosity... she couldn't ignore it. She leaped down after Gros, her body moving lightly over the rocks. The two kept their distance, moving in the shadows, ensuring they remained unseen.
From a distance—
They began tailing that strange adventurer.
The journey continued to the twenty-first floor and beyond. The Dungeon corridors grew more dangerous; the monsters appearing were larger and more aggressive, but one thing didn't change.
That adventurer—
Kept talking.
"Excuse me, can I ask something?"
"If you can understand—"
"Wait a minute, don't just—"
GRAAA!!—CLANG!—SHING!
Every conversation always ended the same way.
Attack.
Counter.
And silence afterward.
From a distance, Gros followed, occasionally stifling laughter. "Pff—hah... hah... is this guy serious?" he said, catching his breath while trying to keep his voice down. "He's really trying to chat up every monster he meets..."
His tone was a mix of astonishment and amusement.
Beside him, Ranye covered her mouth for a moment, suppressing a small laugh. "...at least he's consistent," she replied quietly. A faint smile appeared on her face.
But the longer they followed—
Their mood gradually changed.
At first, it was funny.
Strange.
Ridiculous.
But slowly, it turned into something else.
Something... hard to explain.
Until finally, they arrived at the twenty-fifth floor, near the great waterfall. The roar of water rumbled through the space, and there they saw the adventurer again.
This time—
He wasn't just talking.
His tone was different.
More urgent.
"If you know..." he said amidst the encirclement of harpies, dodging attack after attack. "A harpy... with feathers like a peacock—"
SWOOSH!—CLANG!
He deflected, stepped back half a pace, then tried again.
"Did—do you know her?!"
The harpies' shrieks were the only answer.
But from the crevice in the rocks where they hid, Gros and Ranye said nothing.
They just... listened.
The tone of his voice.
Sincerity that wasn't feigned.
Ranye lowered her head slightly, her eyes softening.
"...he looks like..." she whispered.
Gros glanced at her.
"...like he's searching for someone he lost."
The sentence hung between them.
Gros didn't answer immediately. His jaw tightened slightly; his gaze returned to the adventurer.
"Impossible," he muttered finally. "Humans and Xenos... it can't be like that."
His tone was firmer than before.
As if he was trying to convince himself.
Down below, the battle reached its peak. One harpy managed to knock off the adventurer's helmet, revealing his face for the first time.
Red hair.
A young face.
Eyes that... were too serious for someone considered a "clown."
Gros and Ranye were both silent for a moment.
Then—
They watched him fight.
Swords appeared in the air, hovered, then shot out like rain.
SHING! SHING! SHING!
In an instant, the harpy flock was annihilated.
Strange magic.
Not the ordinary magic they had seen from adventurers.
After it was all over, the adventurer just stood for a moment, then walked to retrieve his helmet. He put it back on without a word, hiding his face again.
As if the expression earlier had never existed.
Then—
He left.
Leaving the waterfall, leaving the dust, leaving the silence.
And from behind that rock crevice, two Xenos could only watch his receding back.
Ranye was still looking in the direction the adventurer had gone, even after his figure had completely disappeared behind the stone corridors. Something was nagging at her heart, something she found hard to ignore.
"...Gros," she called quietly.
The gargoyle turned, his brow slightly furrowed. "What?"
Ranye hesitated for a moment, then finally voiced what even sounded strange to her own ears. "What if... we introduced ourselves to him?"
Gros froze.
A few seconds of silence passed before he let out a long sigh, clearly not believing what he had just heard.
"Are you serious?" His voice was low. "That's too dangerous."
Ranye met his gaze, not backing down. However, Gros continued before she could respond.
"We don't know what his goal is," he said firmly. "For all we know, that harpy he's looking for could just be... his escaped pet."
Those words made Ranye pause.
She wanted to argue.
But that logic... was plausible.
If that was the case, then that adventurer wasn't just strange—he was a threat. Moreover, the sword magic they had seen earlier was clearly not something to be underestimated.
Ranye lowered her gaze slightly.
"...yeah," she finally murmured.
Gros nodded, satisfied, then turned. "Come on. Let's go back. No point in taking risks."
Ranye followed behind, her steps slow. However, her mind didn't move forward with her.
That adventurer's face kept appearing in her mind.
Red hair.
A serious expression.
And the way he spoke... as if he truly longed for someone.
Ranye let out a small, almost inaudible sigh.
"Too bad..."
The corner of her lips lifted slightly.
"He's kinda cute though."