The space exuded an ancient, temple-like majesty. Its stone walls, constructed from a mosaic of various minerals, formed a unique and intricate pattern. Under the flickering torchlight, the reliefs and pillars appeared as vivid, breathing murals.
In a silence broken only by the crackling flames, the path finally opened into a vast expanse.
This was the Great Hall, hidden deep within the basement of the Guild headquarters. At the center of an altar surrounded by torches stood a divine throne. There sat the old god Ouranos, the founder of Orario and the presiding deity of the Guild.
His massive two-meter frame bore a face with sharp, sunken features. From his sky-blue eyes emanated a sharp, intellectual glow, before the old god closed them in sorrow.
"──What is the matter, Ouranos?"
The voice of Fels, the god's close confidant, shattered the silence. Ouranos slowly opened his eyes and turned his gaze toward him.
"My divine will no longer reaches the Dungeon."
The black-robed mage gasped at those words. The "Prayer" of Ouranos, which sealed the great abyss and suppressed the endless birth of monsters, had been severed.
"Is it possible for the 'Prayer' to be interrupted?"
"Yes... the Dungeon is in a state of frenzy. Most likely, a god has descended into its depths. The Dungeon has sensed it. However, this matter..."
To the Dungeon, which harbored a deep-seated hatred for the gods who imprisoned it, the "Divine Aura" of an intruder was impossible to ignore. It was the presence of its sworn enemy.
"──Ouranos, could this be..."
"Ah..."
The steadfast old god placed a hand on his forehead and murmured, as if feeling the massive energy surging from deep underground.
"After the departure of Zeus and his kin, it seems we are witnessing a new transformation..."
●○●○●
Thanks to the "Poison Vermis" antidote Bete retrieved from the surface and Airmid's magic, the members of the Familia recovered from the venom. The journey could finally resume. Consequently, the Loki Familia decided to begin their ascent from the 18th Floor back to the surface today.
At the campsite, preparations for departure were in full swing. The clamor reached the tent where Bell and his companions stayed. While some packed their gear, Bell spotted familiar faces and stepped outside to offer his greetings.
Among the crowd of seasoned adventurers lugging their equipment, the primary strike force—comprised of Level 1 and some Level 2 adventurers—gathered at the edge of the camp. Finn, the captain of the Loki Familia, stood there with leaders like Riveria and supporters like Raul. Since they were discussing something, Bell walked toward them.
"Brother!!"
Bell called out suddenly when he saw his brother at the back of the group. Al looked slightly pale and weary, as if Airmid's treatment the previous day had exhausted him. When he stopped, Al was dressed in black combat gear, fully equipped with several swords hanging at his waist. He turned in response to Bell's voice. He showed no trace of the poison or the wounds that had nearly claimed his life days ago; he looked every bit the true hero.
"Are you leaving now?"
"Yes, they've assigned me to the vanguard."
In the floors above the 17th, moving in large groups was impossible due to the narrow passages. Therefore, the forces were split. A small, maneuverable elite unit would advance first to secure the path, while the rest followed. Al, Ais, and the other high-level adventurers formed this vanguard.
Although he hadn't fully regained his strength, Al—who possessed a breakthrough power exceeding an active Ais using "Ariel," a speed surpassing Bete, and a magical capacity greater than Riveria—was the natural choice to pave the way for the rearguard.
"Th... That... please be careful."
"I will."
Since Bell and his companions would join the rearguard led by Bete, their departure wouldn't be for several hours. Though Bell felt a twinge of inadequacy knowing his brother and Ais were clearing his path, he spoke with genuine concern.
Whether Al sensed his younger brother's feelings or not, he gave a calm nod and continued toward the cave leading to the 17th Floor.
"Master Bell! Should we start our own preparations?"
"Ah, right!!"
Responding to Lilliruca's call, Bell returned to his tent. The torches had already been extinguished. In the dim tent lit only by the glow of crystals, Bell quickly packed his gear. By the time he finished maintaining his weapon and checking his supplies, the other Familia members were already filing out of the camp.
●○●○●
Hestia tried to call Bell and the others to help fold the tent she had borrowed in the now-emptying camp.
"──? Is someone there?"
Hestia heard a rustle behind her and tilted her head in confusion. She sensed someone hiding inside the tent. She wondered if it was a monster and looked around, but found nothing out of the ordinary.
She dismissed it as an illusion, but a strange sense of suspicion prompted her to look again. Cautiously, she peered toward the thick grass, but saw no one.
"Mguuu?!"
Just as she convinced herself it was merely the wind, someone muffled her mouth. Hestia tried to scream, but a firm hand prevented her. She thrashed her arms to resist, yet she couldn't break free. Oddly, there was no shadow of a person around her.
Panic set in as she felt transparent arms restraining her. From a distance, she would have looked like she was struggling against thin air. When her feet left the ground, she realized someone was carrying her; her body was floating in space.
(An... invisible human?)
The texture of the hand holding her was unmistakably human. Despite kicking her legs wildly, she was helpless and was dragged away. Hestia lifted her head, desperately trying to see her captor, but she couldn't discern a single feature.
As the kidnapper reached the camp exit, they accelerated, and the scenery began to blur past her.
●○●○●
Rivira, the town where rough adventurers gathered, served as a supply point for those challenging the lower floors. It was always bustling with shops and stalls. In one of the town's few taverns, a crude shout of anger erupted.
The tavern, built inside a cave, had walls, floors, and a ceiling made of solid rock. Given its size, it felt incredibly dark. The smell of cheap liquor mingled with the stench of monsters was stifling. Empty mugs cluttered the poor wooden tables, and another was added to the pile now.
"Damn it!!"
The man who shouted was large and clearly intoxicated, his face and neck flushed deep red. He downed the rest of his drink in one gulp and slammed the mug onto the table. The sound was deafening, and wood splinters flew.
His leather armor and the sword at his waist were well-worn—equipment fitting for a high-level adventurer—but they were filthy. With his unsightly features, broad chest, tree-trunk arms, tanned skin, and neglected beard, he did not look like a stable individual.
"You seem worked up, Mord."
"Shut up! That brat... what kind of trick did he use to get here? He's getting way too ahead of himself!"
His name was Mord Latro. A Level 2 adventurer, known as "The Bite Dog." Although he was a senior adventurer, he had never reached the middle ranks. He harbored a jealousy bordering on hatred toward Bell, who had surged in level with near-record speed.
The tavern in Rivira, accessible only to adventurers who had achieved some measure of success, usually housed the same familiar faces. As his companions listened to Mord, knowing him well, cynical smiles played on their lips.
"This affects you too! An arrogant rookie, barely promoted, and he's already coming to the middle floors! No doubt we, who have spent years here, are a big joke to him!!"
Reeking of alcohol, Mord screamed at the gathered adventurers. No one responded. They all remained silent, avoiding eye contact because his observation hit home. Even they, with their pride as senior adventurers, felt uneasy about Bell.
"He even dared to get a Salamander Wool robe... I need to teach him a lesson to calm my nerves."
After gulping another glass and speaking with spite, Mord slammed the mug down again.
"But Mord, even if you say you'll crush him, how? Rumor has it the boy is the brother of that 'Sword Saint'..."
"That might be a lie, but there's also a rumor he's the student of that 'Savage Wolf'."
One of Mord's companions spoke up. Years ago, a man had risen through the ranks so quickly it made other adventurers look like a joke, reaching the pinnacle in the blink of an eye... the "Sword Saint," Al Cranel. He too had achieved promotions in record time and remained a monster among monsters, continuing to shatter records.
Now, he was the primary strike force of the largest Familia. If Bell was the brother of a man standing on a peak Mord and his friends couldn't even reach the foot of, his growth speed made sense.
"──That means we've been different from him since birth—we who took years to rank up and are still stuck."
"Regardless, he'll be a Level 1 adventurer in a few years. ──Damn it, I can't stand this."
The adventurers in the tavern scowled, but their eyes held a dark despair. It was the jealousy and hopelessness of seeing a young sprout ascend in an instant, unlike them, who had stalled at Level 2 and would likely never rank up again. If he were just a normal rookie, it would be easier, but touching the kin of the strongest man in the city meant their lives wouldn't be enough to pay the price.
"If I could just lure him away alone..."
Mord considered targeting Bell away from the eyes of the Loki Familia, but the looks from those around him were cold. They refused to be hunted by the major Familias for a petty whim. Regardless, Mord downed his drink to vent his rage.
"──Oh, the atmosphere here is quite lively."
At that moment, a man entered the tavern. With a cheerful voice that clashed with the room and a bright expression, he seemed entirely out of place. The man walked slowly toward Mord and his companions, a smile fixed on his face.
Despite the stares, the man—Hermes—showed no hesitation as he approached.
"──What do you want, Lord God? If you've come to drink, you'd better head back to the surface."
"Haha, I heard talk of a wicked plot and couldn't stop myself from coming over."
"So, what will you do? Will you stop us with just that one companion of yours?"
"W.. Wait, Mord?!"
Because Mord's tone made it sound as if everyone in the tavern was plotting to attack Bell, the adventurers grew nervous, fearing he would drag them into a suicidal act.
"What are you saying? Do as you please. Don't mind me; continue your dangerous conversation. I have a penchant for outlaws like you. This lower world would be boring if it were filled with only honor students."
Hermes spoke with a wide grin, but his eyes held a chilling coldness, revealing his true nature as a "God." Under the weight of a gaze from a being that transcends good and evil, purity and corruption, Mord and his companions trembled involuntarily.
It was a presence that terrified them more than any monster. Their instincts realized that this youth before them was indeed "something else" wearing a human skin.
"You want to attack Bell, don't you? How about I tell you our upcoming schedule?"
"But Lord, that boy is the brother of the 'Sword Saint'..."
"So, are you satisfied with that? He will soon reach a place where your hands cannot touch him."
For a god like Hermes, inciting and manipulating these outlaws who had nothing but their pride was incredibly easy. Hermes's mocking tone made the adventurers in the tavern imagine that Bell—whom they hadn't even spoken to—was laughing at them.
"──Can we trust you, Lord God?"
"Now, now, I am Hermes. I don't lie to children."
"I certainly cannot help you directly... however, I can lend you a charm of courage that defeats even monsters."
He said this as he took something from Asfi and presented it to Mord and his companions. It was a small helmet that looked like a cap. The aura surrounding the jet-black helmet indicated it was no ordinary item.
"This is..."
"A magic item created by 'Perseus.' Its effect is... invisibility."
Upon hearing the effect of the item made by Asfi, the master item maker, Mord and his companions swallowed hard. Invisibility meant hiding one's form, and hiding one's form was the ultimate weapon of surprise. By wearing this helmet, they could attack Bell without being noticed.
"Really? You're giving us this..."
Astonishment washed over Mord, but Hermes smiled to confirm his words. Realizing they had a practical means, the adventurers' eyes gleamed with aggressive intent. If Hermes was telling the truth, they could attack without leaving "witnesses." There was no reason not to use it.
As if reading their desires, Hermes said with a persistent smile:
"However, I have one condition."
"Make this a performance entertaining enough to amuse me."
●○●○●
"──Even though I incited them like that."
While Bell and Mord fought a one-sided battle, a ring of outlaws surrounded them. Amidst the enthusiastic cheers of the ruffians, the god and his follower watched the show from outside the circle.
"Mord is proving to be no match for him at all."
Initially, Bell seemed confused against an invisible opponent, but he soon closed his eyes and relied on his other senses to pinpoint Mord's location. Bell's combat prowess far exceeded Mord's. His speed, courage, and intuition were leagues beyond Mord, who had been a senior adventurer for years.
Then again, Bell's usual sparring partner for hand-to-hand combat was the "Savage Wolf" himself. It was no wonder these Level 3 dregs were no match for him. Still, remaining unharmed against an invisible enemy was truly impressive.
"As expected of Al's brother. I heard he was just promoted, but it seems a mid-tier Level 2 was no match even with my helmet..."
Asfi, who had investigated Al on Hermes's orders before he became a Level 1 adventurer and still dealt with him now, knew exactly what kind of monster the brother of the boy fighting below was.
Given that Al, while still Level 2, had faced the "Ancient One" and Vana Freya, she could only say this test was lenient. Nevertheless, Bell's growth rate was staggering. She sensed a talent that predicted he would break through the walls of Level 2 and 3 to reach Level 1 very soon.
"You said you wanted to confirm Bell Cranel's strength with your own eyes... did you come to the Dungeon specifically to see this?"
"That's a harsh way to put it, Asfi."
Hermes laughed bitterly as he stood on a tree slightly away from the circle of adventurers. He was hidden among the branches and leaves so as not to be seen from the ground, but his expression seemed satisfied. "Oh, he took the helmet from him," Asfi murmured beside him, while Hermes chuckled softly.
"In truth, I expected him to fight a Floor Boss or something of that nature, but things don't always go as planned."
Hermes spoke in a quiet, suspicious tone, watching Bell as he closed in on Mord, who had lost his helmet.
"Facing a Floor Boss would be madness."
"You deliberately lent them my helmet and incited these adventurers against him... I thought you held a grudge against him, Lord Hermes."
Hermes ignored Asfi's contemptuous words and shrugged.
"Mmm, perhaps it's a form of my love for him?"
"I can't stomach love like that. And I don't want to have to protect you from Al again."
"Don't say that. Sooner or later, Bell had to receive an adventurer's baptism. Didn't you say, Asfi, that Bell doesn't know the ugly side of humans? He may face far more terrible situations in the future. Even if it's in bad taste, he must know."
This didn't mean he had to be tainted by evil, but he needed to realize that good intentions alone were not enough to survive in this world. Whether it was for his own good or not, Hermes planned this. To Hermes, it was out of love for Bell, but to Asfi, it was nothing but a nuisance.
"That... isn't entirely wrong, but..."
Asfi muttered with a scowl, feeling frustrated by the god's erratic tests.
"──So, can't you forgive me?"
"──Bete."
Upon hearing Hermes's words, Asfi turned quickly, only to find a werewolf leaning against a massive tree trunk.
"The Loki Familia has already returned to the surface. Were you the only one allowed to stay to see your student off?"
Unlike Asfi, who turned pale and was terrified that she—a high-level adventurer—hadn't sensed his presence at all, Hermes addressed him cheerfully. This prompted Bete to click his tongue in annoyance.
"Like you said, you bastard, this idiot only sees the beautiful sides, whether for good or ill. He had to have this experience eventually."
"And above all, I didn't train him to be weak enough to lose to trash like these."
In Bete's line of sight, Mord had fallen to his knees following a powerful punch from Bell.
●○●○●
"──Pathetic."
A cat-man was watching the battle from a distance, much like Hermes. The eyes of Allen, who had witnessed everything since Hestia's kidnapping by Mord, were cold.
Even with a magic item, losing to such an opponent and allowing the goddess one should protect to be kidnapped was a sign of extreme fragility. If Allen were in his place, he would have killed Mord and his friends, then taken his own life as atonement for his failure.
Fighting an opponent of Mord's level wasn't even a "baptism," let alone a test.
In the end──.
"Stop."
"Lower your swords."
For the goddess to be forced to release her Divine Aura to protect her adventurer was a humiliation beyond words.
"──Tch."
Allen sighed, and at that moment, he heard the wail of the Dungeon.
On the ceiling of the 18th Floor, there was a Great White Crystal that illuminated the lower world like the sun on the surface. Right in the center of that massive crystal, a large black shadow began to stir.
Then, a violent tremor occurred. Allen's eyes widened at the force of the vibration that shook the entire floor. Then, with the sound of a thunderous crack, deep and distorted fissures appeared in the white crystal, where something massive was still moving.
The birth of a monster in a Safety Zone.
The cause was undoubtedly Hestia's "Divine Aura." Allen, a leader in a major Familia who had stood on the front lines of the Great Conflict seven years ago, understood perfectly what it meant for a god to release their Arcanum in the Dungeon.
But this floor was only the middle of the mid-tiers. Even if a black monster appeared, it would at most be a mutated Goliath, and its level wouldn't exceed five. It might even be a suitable "baptism" for Bell Cranel, but to Allen, it posed no threat.
However──
(Was the reason she chose me or that pig... ──)
"UOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"
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