And while he was busy collecting Magic Stones and loot, he remained completely oblivious...
In a shadowed corner beyond his notice, at some unknowable moment, another figure had appeared. A mysterious silhouette draped in a black hooded cloak, just like his own.
No one knew when she had arrived.
No one knew how she had slipped so close to Leon without triggering even a flicker of awareness.
And what no one could possibly have known was this: when her gaze happened to fall upon Leon, those heterochromatic eyes, long sealed shut, still and deep as an ancient well, stirred with the faintest ripple they hadn't shown in ages.
Orario... when did a mage like this show up?
Things just got... interesting.
The thought drifted through her mind, and beneath the shadow of her hood, her expression shifted into something cold and dangerous.
...
Crack.
A Minotaur Horn snapped free under Leon's practiced hands.
He hefted the weighty trophy, lips curling upward as he appraised it aloud.
"Minotaur Horn. At the Level 2 tier, aside from rare Infant Dragon materials, this is the top-grade weapon forging material out there... another nice little payday."
"Hell yeah."
"You... really like money?"
"..."
A melodic yet jarring female voice came from practically right beside his ear. Leon's entire body locked up.
His expression twisted. He threw himself backward and a layer of Frost Armor crystallized over his body before he'd finished moving.
His boots scraped against the stone floor with a sharp hiss, carving a short trail before he stopped. He dropped into a wide, low stance, legs bent, staff snapping into his grip, eyes locked dead ahead on the mysterious woman in her ornate hooded cloak.
"Who are you?!"
His pulse hammered against his ribs.
He held his ground with everything he had while his mind raced through what had just happened.
She got close enough to whisper in my ear, and I didn't sense a single goddamn thing?!
What kind of ridiculous presence-concealment is that? Not just her aura... even her sound... was...
Wait. Sound?
His thoughts raced. His narrowed eyes gradually widened as he studied the mysterious figure, going from slits to saucers, filling with disbelief.
No way. Absolutely no way.
He decided to test the waters.
"Excuse me, are you...?"
Beneath her hood, the woman tilted her head a fraction. Her mouth curved, calm and unhurried.
"Did I startle you? Then... my apologies."
She'd said it so casually, just a simple sentence. But the intangible pressure radiating from her was almost solid, settling heavy as lead on his chest.
The sheer weight of it pinned him in place. He didn't dare make the slightest wrong move. All he could do was focus every ounce of attention on her, tracking her every gesture.
Then his gaze caught the details he'd nearly overlooked.
A few strands of silver hair spilling from beneath the hood's edge. A long dark dress that fell almost to the floor. A necklace at her throat set with a single green stone. A cloak so luxurious its value was obvious at a glance.
And more suffocating than any of that... the unfathomable strength it took to get that close without him sensing a thing.
All of it stacked together. He stared at the woman before him, and a name slammed up from the depths of his memory. A name that, right here, right now, absolutely should not be here.
He forced down the choking tension.
His lips moved several times before he finally managed to squeeze out two syllables:
"Al... Alf..."
The woman tilted her head again. Her mouth curved, and her voice, when it came, was quiet and amused.
"Hehe."
"..."
Honestly, Leon was rattled. Not just a little rattled. Full-on panic.
If this mysterious figure really was the "witch" he was thinking of, then this time... he might actually be screwed.
One wrong word, one thing that rubbed her the wrong way, and he could be deleted on the spot. Game over. Back to the character creation screen.
Thoughts spinning, Leon kept his expression even and pressed forward:
"I don't suppose the illustrious Lady Silence has any particular business with someone like me?"
He chose his next words with care, deferential without grovelling:
"Whatever you need, just say the word. I'd hate to be on the wrong side of someone of your reputation."
The mysterious woman: "..."
This man...
Beneath her hood, those heterochromatic eyes, barely opened, narrowed again as Leon finished speaking.
She studied the handsome young man before her, his tone deferential, his expression radiating caution toward her.
Black hair, black eyes, tall and lean, around 185 centimeters. His age... about the same as hers.
He wore a dark red combat tunic sewn from Salamander Wool, paired with a faded leather vest and equally worn light armor plates. Over it all hung a hooded cloak similar to hers but visibly cheaper in quality, his face covered by a black mask.
By her estimation, every piece of gear on this man's body put together probably wasn't worth as much as a single one of her high heels.
The only thing of real value was the twisted, rune-carved staff set with mana crystals.
She processed all of this in a heartbeat and spoke again, her voice calm and faintly amused:
"With your level of ability, why do you only linger on the Middle Floors? And this gear of yours doesn't remotely match your strength. As an adventurer, keeping yourself properly equipped is the bare minimum, isn't it?"
Alfia questioned the man's professionalism as an adventurer without an ounce of restraint.
"..."
Leon hesitated, caught between speaking and holding his tongue.
Why stick to the Middle Floors? Did he not want to go deeper?
No, he wanted to. But he valued his life more.
Solo exploration below Floor 25? In all of Orario, the only lunatic who pulled that off was Ottar, and no one else. Every other adventurer with half a brain cell knew better than to try something that suicidal.
Besides, Ottar could do it because he was strong enough to steamroll everything down there.
Try doing a solo Expedition to the Lower Floors at Level 3 and see what happens. They'd be scraping what's left of you off the walls.
As for the gear issue... could he just come out and say it was because he was cheap?
A standard loadout of second-class adventurer equipment started at tens of millions of valis, easy. And that was before you got into the real money pit: mage-specific armor and robes.
Given how much Leon valued every coin, getting him to shell out that kind of money for an equipment upgrade was never going to happen.
That same budget could max out all his basic abilities and then some.
Weigh the two options and it was obvious: at this stage, dumping limited funds into marginally better gear was a terrible deal.
He'd run the numbers with the ladies at home multiple times.
Jeanne, Rose, and Kureha all agreed.
So the result was this: Leon, a Level 3 mage, was still making do with the fourth-class adventurer equipment scraps he'd scored from Tsubaki.
...
...
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