Too fast.
Hestia had expected her child's growth rate to be impressive, but even so, this speed was still astonishing.
So he really had used that skill again.
Even without any magic, Noir's Magic stat kept rising, and that made Hestia let out a quiet sigh.
Including the days he had spent unconscious, it had only been half a month since he became an adventurer.
He had no intention of comparing himself to Bell, who reached Level 2 in a month and a half with all his stats at SS, but Noir did intend to raise himself to Level 2 before Bell arrived in Orario.
Not for any grand reason.
He simply wanted to earn enough qualification to ride the protagonist's wave and gain experience under that halo, instead of forever lingering on the sidelines.
From the moment Bell stepped into Orario, the story of this world truly began.
From then on, nearly every month would bring a desperate battle with life-and-death stakes.
Tempered by that relentless cycle of high-intensity combat, Bell had risen from a rookie adventurer to a first-tier Level 5 in only half a year.
If Noir could board that speeding ship, then he too would be able to grow stronger at an extraordinary pace.
And yet, ever since transmigrating into this world, Noir had clearly felt the world's malice bearing down on him.
Of this, he was deeply certain.
If not for the fact that he had already crossed into this world in the flesh, if not for the fact that he refused to give up so easily, he would have ended this painful life long ago.
In order to preserve the original story as much as possible, Noir had never taken any action that might affect the plot. He had only wanted to farm monsters in peace, steadily raise his strength, and quietly wait for the protagonist to appear.
After all, Noir had no confidence that he could challenge the Black Dragon.
But the moment Hestia gave him that weapon,
Noir realized everything had changed.
When Bell appeared, would the Hestia Knife still exist?
No.
He had to face reality.
If he kept drifting along like this, then that outcome was already impossible.
Without that divine weapon, would Bell still be able to successfully defeat the Black Dragon?
Only then did Noir finally realize how ridiculous his earlier behavior had been.
A sentence suddenly echoed in his mind.
"I can't forgive the version of myself that does nothing and yet still expects something."
'So that's what I've been all along'
Closing his eyes, Noir felt the last scraps of his pitiful pride shatter completely.
That night, he did not sleep. Instead, he desperately searched through every piece of knowledge in his mind, trying to recall every scrap of information about this world that might prove useful.
If this world insisted on treating him like this, then he would turn the whole thing upside down.
...
The next morning, Noir rose early as usual, got dressed, and strapped both swords across his back.
Unlike before, this time he also brought the cloak he used to wear all the time.
Ever since joining the Hestia Familia, he had rarely worn that garment meant to hide his face.
He left under Hestia's thoroughly puzzled gaze.
Rather than taking the main road as he usually did, Noir quietly slipped into a side path and kept going until his figure was swallowed by shadow.
Since he had realized he might already be under surveillance, the first thing he needed to do was disappear from everyone's sight as quickly as possible.
Noir did not head straight for the Dungeon.
Instead, he first went to the Guild and posted a request offering a reward for information on a specific type of monster.
Only after that did he step into the Dungeon, a place both familiar and strange, and descend to the ninth floor.
Noir swung his black blade again and again, cutting down the monsters constantly emerging from the rock walls, all while trying to use technique in battle.
But without a teacher to guide him, and with no one but himself to rely on, every bit of progress came painfully slowly.
By the time a full morning of fighting had passed, aside from the new scratches covering his light armor and a few fresh cuts around the joints, Noir had gained almost nothing of substance.
Combat experience was something built through time and repetition.
It could never be forced in a single leap.
By afternoon, as another monster approached, fragments of unbearable memories rose in Noir's mind.
In an instant, hatred turned to blazing fury and ignited his chest.
Each breath he drew only fanned the fire higher, making the rage burn hotter and hotter.
'Hold it back, hold it back, hold it back, hold it back...'
Gradually, strands of black fire began to appear over Noir's body like fine threads.
He continued letting the hatred and fury burn inside him while struggling to preserve his reason.
Hiss
A Dungeon Lizard attacked from the wall at his flank. Once it came within three meters, it opened its maw without hesitation, revealing rows of sharp teeth as it lunged straight for Noir's throat.
Black flames surged upward, and in Noir's crimson eyes was reflected the image of the monster being cleaved cleanly in two.
"Hold it back, hold it back, hold it back, hold it back..."
Enduring the mad urge to tear everything apart, Noir slowly began adapting to that state.
First he had to learn to endure it.
Only then could he hope to control it.
If all he possessed was power, while his reason was lost, then what difference would there be between him and a beast?
What Noir sought was power that could break through hopeless situations.
Not madness that would push him to the edge of destruction.
Once the fire of hatred stirred by memory was lit, how could it possibly be so easily controlled?
After three days of bitter training, on the ninth floor of the Dungeon, a black-haired, crimson-eyed figure wrapped in black flames continuously evaded the savage assault of a War Shadow.
At the very last moment, he caught the claw strike with the armor on his left arm, then followed with a powerful upward slash, carving from the War Shadow's chest straight to its shoulder.
Slash!
Black flames spread rapidly from the wound, covering the monster's whole body in the blink of an eye.
Moments later, the War Shadow turned to ash, its magic stone vanishing along with it.
After defeating the monster, Noir closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
The black flames around him slowly went out.
'As expected, I still can't control it freely. Right now, I can only trigger the Flame of Vengeance by digging into my memories. But unless I release the killing intent surging from deep inside me, the skill won't stop, and the flames won't go out. On top of that, if I stay in that state too long, I may lose control again.'
Finding a quiet corner, Noir sat down and began eating lunch while reviewing the details of that morning's battle in his mind.
Tap. Tap.
Crisp footsteps sounded from ahead.
Lifting his head, Noir saw the person he had been waiting for at last, and the words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them.
"So you finally came."
Standing before him was a figure wrapped head to toe in a black robe, the face completely hidden from view.
"Oh? Judging by your tone, it sounds as though you know who I am." The robed figure sounded puzzled at first, but quickly understood. "No wonder that request looked as if it had been posted specifically to draw me out. So that was it."
The robed figure took a sheet of paper from within the cloak and waved it casually. It was the request Noir had posted at the Guild.
"So it seems you know about them."
"No need to hide it. I know a little about the Xenos." Noir continued eating as he spoke. "You must have investigated my background over the past two days. Otherwise, you wouldn't have waited this long to come."
"'Noir.' Real name unknown. Appeared suddenly in Orario two years ago and was taken in by the founder of the Fried Potato Puff Union. Joined the Hestia Familia only half a month ago."
The robed figure recited the details one by one, as though they were already memorized.
"None of the information suggests you ever had any contact with the Xenos. Was it before you came to Orario?"
"Do you know how I arrived in Orario, Sage... no, Fool Fels?" Noir wiped the corner of his mouth. "Before I reached Orario, I was a slave. But while I was being trafficked, I did happen to come across something interesting. Outside the city, a monster that can speak and think rationally is extremely valuable."
"..."
Watching the silent Fels, Noir continued.
"So? Do you want this information?"
Fels asked, "What do you want?"
"Three grimoires and ten million valis," Noir said calmly.
Fels replied, "Agreed."
For a being who had already lived for eight hundred years, those things were trivial.
Otherwise, before the War Game, Fels would never have been willing to spend dozens of precious grimoires just to help Haruhime awaken her magic.
Once Noir saw that Fels had agreed, he began revealing part of the information.
"The slave caravan that had me was wiped out by Gale Wind[Ryuu Lion]. But I once overheard the Familia they belonged to. If I remember correctly, it was called the Ikelos Familia."
"The Ikelos Familia!"
Even Fels sounded startled by that answer. Apparently, even Fels had not expected the Ikelos Familia to be involved not only in slave trading, but also in matters concerning the Xenos.
"How were they transporting the Xenos out of the Dungeon?"
"Who knows? Maybe the Dungeon has more than one exit." Noir gave a small shrug.
"I see." Fels sounded as though this possibility had already crossed the mind. "Anything else?"
"You expect a slave to overhear that much? But you could try Daedalus Street."
"I understand. Take this. If you remember anything else later, you can use it to contact me."
Seeing Noir go right back to eating, clearly with no intention of continuing the conversation, Fels handed him a yellow glass bead.
"I'll prepare what you asked for. Come to this address tomorrow and collect it."
After giving him an address, Fels vanished.
Now that the matter of the Xenos had already been exposed, and the Evils were involved as well, Fels would have to make the necessary preparations.
As for whether the man in front of Fels had been lying, it would be foolish to underestimate the insight of a sage who had lived eight hundred years.
Once Noir was sure Fels had completely disappeared, he let out a sigh.
Everything he said had technically been true.
But the whole story had been fabricated, pieced together from scattered fragments into something that looked complete while still being fundamentally false.
As for whether he should simply tell Fels everything about Daedalus, Noir had considered it and ultimately decided against it.
He did not have Bell's ridiculous ability to make everyone trust him.
If he laid everything out in full, who knew what would happen.
<><><><><><><><><><><>
Good Reviews/Ratings are greatly appreciated
Drop some POWERSTONES to push the story forward!