I watched them from across the living room and came to a conclusion I didn't particularly enjoy.
This was probably the worst decision I had made in my life.
That was saying something, considering I had once walked into a high-level dungeon because an anime got cancelled and decided to fight whatever was responsible for it.
That had felt reasonable at the time—emotionally justified, even. This, however, felt like the kind of decision that didn't explode immediately, but instead unraveled slowly, piece by piece, until it became something I couldn't fix.
On the couch, the three of them were completely absorbed in the screen. Bright colors reflected in their eyes as the anime played—characters shouting, dramatic music swelling, everything exaggerated in the way that only anime could get away with.
Karin leaned forward with full focus, reacting to every movement like it was happening right in front of her. Ruri sat properly, posture intact, but her eyes were fixed and attentive, quietly taking everything in. Hikari was sprawled across the couch, half hanging off the edge, still glancing back at me like I was part of the furniture.
I narrowed my eyes slightly as I observed them, taking in the way they were completely absorbed in the screen like the outside world no longer existed.
"...If I leave them like this," I muttered under my breath, "they're going to turn into me."
That was a problem—
A very serious problem.
I cleared my throat, louder this time.
"Khhm."
Three heads turned toward me immediately. Good. At least I still had some authority left.
I folded my arms and leaned slightly against the wall. "Kids," I said, keeping my tone calm but firm, "what do you think about going out again?"
There was a brief pause as they processed the sentence.
Then their eyes lit up.
All three of them. At the same time.
Karin practically launched herself off the couch and ran straight toward me. "Outside again? Really? Where are we going? Is it far? Is it fun? Is it dangerous? Are there monsters? Are there snacks? Can we run? Can we fight something?"
She didn't breathe.
I blinked once, then again, letting that entire barrage hit me before responding.
"...One at a time," I said slowly.
She pointed at me like I owed her answers. "Answer everything."
I considered my life choices for half a second, then exhaled.
"...Yes, probably, yes, depends, yes, and yes," I replied flatly.
Karin grinned like I had just confirmed her life goal.
That was concerning.
Hikari clapped her hands happily. "Hikari is going outside again with Papa! This will be fun! Hikari approves!"
Ruri stepped forward more calmly, though the quiet excitement in her eyes was impossible to miss. "Where are we going, Papa?" she asked.
I hesitated for half a second.
Then said it.
"A dungeon."
There was a short moment of silence—just long enough for the word to settle.
Then chaos.
"Really?!" Karin said, eyes practically glowing.
"Hikari wants to see monsters!" Hikari added immediately.
Ruri's eyes widened—not in fear, but in curiosity. "The place where hunters go?"
"Yes," I said.
They cheered.
All three of them.
Even Ruri.
I stared at them for a long second, watching their reactions, then let out a slow breath.
"...This is a mistake," I muttered.
Still, if I was going to do this, I needed to do it properly. I turned and walked toward my room, already running through a mental checklist.
Clothes. Extra sets. Multiple.
Because Karin existed.
Medical supplies. Basic first aid.
Potions. Emergency use only.
More clothes.
I paused mid-packing, frowned slightly, then added even more just in case.
"...Preparation is cheaper than consequences," I muttered.
Once everything was ready, I stored the items inside my storage ring, watching them disappear one by one. Convenient, efficient—and unfortunately, enabling bad decisions.
I changed into something more suitable—boots, durable pants, a simple shirt, and a jacket. I glanced at the back of it.
"I Hate Responsibilities."
"...Still accurate," I said.
When I stepped back into the living room, they were already waiting—watching, expecting, like they had somehow decided I was about to announce something important.
I walked past them into the kitchen and started preparing simple food—sandwiches and water. Easy to carry, easy to eat, minimal effort, which was exactly what I needed right now.
"You're doing it again," Karin said from behind me.
"Doing what?" I asked, not looking back as I continued working.
"Being cool."
"...I'm making sandwiches."
"That's cool," she insisted without hesitation.
I paused for half a second, then continued. "You need better standards," I muttered.
"I think my standards are correct," she replied confidently.
I decided not to argue. Some battles weren't worth the effort.
After storing the food, I turned and looked at them properly—then at their clothes.
Cute dresses.
"...No," I said immediately.
They tilted their heads in unison.
"That's not dungeon-appropriate," I added, already gesturing toward the room. "Room. Now."
Changing them took longer than expected. Karin treated the process like movement was optional, constantly shifting around, Ruri followed instructions properly without complaint, and Hikari provided a continuous stream of commentary.
"Hikari is changing. Papa is serious. This is important."
"Yes," I said. "It is."
By the time we were done, they were wearing proper clothes—pants, shirts, shoes, and neatly tied hair.
"...Better," I said, giving a small nod.
We returned to the living room, and this time, I crouched down so I was at their eye level.
"Listen carefully," I said.
They focused immediately.
Good.
"A dungeon is not like outside," I continued, voice steady but firm. "It's not a park, and it's not a place where you can run around freely. It's dangerous. There are monsters inside, and those monsters will attack you if you're not careful."
Karin leaned forward, clearly interested. "Strong monsters?"
"Yes. Some weak, some strong, and some stronger than you can imagine."
Ruri raised her hand slightly. "Do they think?"
"Some do," I replied. "Some don't. Either way, you treat everything inside as a threat."
Hikari nodded seriously. "Hikari will treat everything as dangerous."
"Good," I said. "Now listen."
I pointed to myself. "Rule one. You stay near me. Always. No exceptions."
Karin opened her mouth, clearly about to argue.
"No exceptions," I repeated.
She paused, then slowly closed it.
I held up a second finger. "Rule two. You do not touch anything unless I say so. That includes monsters, objects, walls, glowing things, and anything that looks interesting."
Karin frowned slightly. "Even if it looks really interesting?"
"Especially if it looks interesting," I said.
Ruri nodded. "Understood."
"Rule three," I continued, "if something feels wrong, you tell me immediately. Don't try to handle it yourself."
Karin tilted her head. "What if I can handle it?"
I looked at her for a moment, then shook my head.
"That's not the point."
She hesitated briefly before nodding. "...Okay."
That was progress.
I let out a breath and lowered my hand. "This isn't a game," I added, voice more serious now. "We're going because we need to, not because it's fun. You follow what I say, and we all come back safely. That's the goal."
There was a brief silence.
Then Ruri spoke softly. "We will listen, Papa."
Karin nodded. "I'll try."
Hikari smiled brightly. "Hikari will stay with Papa!"
I studied them for a moment.
I didn't fully believe them.
But it was enough.
I stood up and adjusted my jacket. "...Alright," I said. "Let's go."
And just like that, formation returned. Hikari climbed onto me without hesitation, settling into her usual position, while Karin grabbed my hand and Ruri held onto Karin's other hand like it was already a system they understood.
I looked down at them, then toward the door, then back at them again, letting out a quiet breath.
"...This is definitely going to end badly," I muttered.
And despite knowing that, I stepped forward anyway.
By the time we stepped out of the apartment building and onto the street, I was already running through the same thought for what felt like the hundredth time.
This is a bad idea.
Not a questionable idea. Not a risky idea.
A bad one.
And yet… I was still doing it.
There was a certain kind of awareness that came with experience, the kind that didn't make you hesitate—it just made you fully aware that you probably should. Unfortunately, awareness and decision-making weren't always aligned, and right now I was proving that beautifully by walking three small disasters toward a dungeon gate.
Karin immediately started pointing at everything again the moment we reached the sidewalk. It was like stepping outside automatically activated some kind of curiosity overload in her brain, and there was no off switch.
"Papa, what's that?" she asked, pointing at a vending machine glowing softly at the corner like it was some kind of mystical artifact.
"A vending machine," I replied. "You put money in, it gives you drinks."
Her eyes widened just a bit more than necessary, which was saying something. "So it just gives you things?"
"If you pay for it," I said, already regretting this explanation.
"…That's still amazing."
"It's normal."
She ignored that completely, which was also normal.
We barely made it a few steps before she pointed again, this time at a mana-powered vehicle gliding across the road. Its embedded crystals emitted a faint hum, smooth and steady, the kind of sound you only noticed when you were paying attention.
"What about that?" she asked, leaning forward slightly like it might escape if she didn't focus on it hard enough.
"Transportation," I said. "Runs on mana crystals. More efficient than older engines."
"Can we ride one?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because we're walking."
She frowned immediately. "That's not a good reason."
"It's the only one you're getting," I replied, because explaining budgets, convenience, and the fact that we were going somewhere very specific was not a conversation I was having right now.
Ruri, on the other hand, observed everything more quietly. Her gaze didn't wander randomly—it moved with intention, following patterns, studying details, connecting things in a way that made it clear she wasn't just looking. She was understanding.
"Papa," she said after a while, her voice calm as always, "is mana everywhere?"
"Yes," I answered. "After the dungeons appeared, mana started leaking into the world. Now it's part of everything—technology, environment, even people."
She nodded slowly, clearly processing that, filing it somewhere useful instead of just reacting to it.
Meanwhile, Hikari clung to me as usual, perfectly content to treat me as both transportation and emotional support. Her eyes moved constantly, scanning everything with open fascination, like she was trying to absorb the entire world at once.
"Hikari is excited," she said brightly. "Papa, what will we do inside the dungeon?"
"We explore," I replied. "Carefully."
"Hikari will stay with Papa."
"You will," I said, because that was the only acceptable answer.
Eventually, we reached the dungeon.
An F-rank gate.
It hovered quietly within a restricted zone, its surface swirling like liquid light, distorting the space around it just enough to remind you that it didn't belong here. Compared to higher-ranked gates, it looked stable. Calm. Almost harmless.
Almost.
I stopped a few steps away and studied it, letting my gaze linger longer than necessary.
A dungeon was never harmless.
Rank didn't change that.
I paused for a moment, letting my thoughts settle—not because I needed to think, but because I needed to organize what I already knew into something clean and usable. There were things about dungeons that never really left you once you understood them properly, the kind of knowledge that stayed sharp no matter how long you tried to ignore it.
A dungeon wasn't just a place you walked into for fun.
A dungeon is a space that doesn't belong to this world.
That was the simplest way to put it, even if it didn't fully capture what it actually meant.
The gate in front of us was just an entrance, a connection point. Once you step through it, you're not here anymore. You're somewhere else entirely—an enclosed world shaped by mana, with its own rules, its own structure, and its own ecosystem. The environment inside could be anything: caves, forests, ruins, or something that didn't resemble Earth at all.
And inside those spaces… were monsters.
Not animals. Not something you could reason with. Most of them were born from mana itself, and they existed for one purpose—attack, survive, and repeat. Some had instincts. Some had patterns. A few even showed signs of intelligence. But at the end of the day, every single one of them was dangerous.
Rank didn't change that.
People liked to think of F-rank dungeons as harmless, but that was only true when you compared them to something worse. F-rank meant the monsters were weaker, slower, easier to deal with. It didn't mean they couldn't hurt you. It didn't mean they couldn't kill you if you were careless.
And that was where most people made mistakes.
They saw "low rank" and assumed "safe."
It wasn't.
It was just… less dangerous.
I glanced at the gate again, my expression staying neutral even as my thoughts ran deeper.
Every dungeon had a core. That was the heart of it—the source of everything inside. Monsters, environment, even the stability of the space itself. That core was always guarded by something stronger than everything else inside.
The boss.
Defeat the boss.
Destroy the core.
The dungeon collapses.
That was the only way to truly erase it.
But most dungeons weren't destroyed anymore.
They were used.
Farmed.
Resources regenerated over time. Monsters respawned. The boss came back after a certain period. That made them valuable—training grounds for new hunters, steady income sources for guilds, controlled environments for growth.
Which meant this place, despite looking quiet and almost abandoned, was still functioning exactly as intended. And that also meant one thing— even if it was F-rank, it was still a dungeon, and anything inside it could still become a problem if handled incorrectly.
I looked back at the girls, letting my gaze linger on each of them for just a second longer than usual. They didn't need every detail, and they didn't need the weight behind it either—but I did. Because I wasn't just entering a dungeon.
I was bringing them with me.
"…Yeah," I muttered under my breath, exhaling quietly. "Still a bad idea."
I straightened and shifted my attention toward the guard stationed nearby. Time for the annoying part.
We walked over.
"We'd like permission to enter," I said. "Training."
The guard looked at me, then at the girls, then back at me like he was trying to decide whether this was serious or if I had just lost a bet and committed to the bit.
"…Sir," he said slowly, "minimum age requirement is six."
Right.
I paused for half a second before subtly snapping my fingers at my side.
Arcane Concealment activated—not just suppression, but adjustment. Their visible status shifted in an instant: age, level, attributes, everything rewritten into something acceptable at a glance. It was clean, stable, and most importantly, believable.
I gave them a quick once-over to confirm the changes, then nodded.
"Show him your status," I said. "Like I taught you."
They followed without hesitation. Three translucent panels appeared in front of them, hovering steadily.
The guard stepped closer and actually read them—carefully.
"…Ruri Arclight, Age six, Water affinity, Healer Support Resonance, low mana output, basic physical stats…" he read aloud, scanning with a practiced eye before shifting to the next panel.
"Karin Arclight… fire element… Combustion Resonance… higher aggression tendency…" He raised an eyebrow slightly. "…Figures."
Karin puffed her cheeks immediately. "Hey."
"Accurate," I said calmly, which did not help.
He moved to the last panel.
"Hikari Arclight… earth affinity… Barrier Resonance… unusually high mana density for age…" He paused for a moment, then glanced at me again, clearly reassessing something. "…Your kids are a bit… interesting."
"Genetics," I said flatly, because there was no better answer that didn't create more questions I had no intention of answering.
He didn't question it, which I appreciated more than I showed. Instead, he gave a small nod.
"Alright. They pass minimum requirements."
Then his attention shifted fully to me.
"ID."
I handed it over.
He read it more seriously this time, eyes scanning line by line.
"Ren Arclight… C-rank… Enchantment Support… wind element… Level 40…" He glanced up. "That's a rare combination."
"It's manageable," I said.
"You got offensive skills?"
"A few," I replied. "Wind Cutter. Wind Barrier."
Technically true. Just heavily simplified.
He nodded again, apparently satisfied with that answer, and handed the ID back.
"You're good to go," he said. "Just keep them close."
"I will."
"And get them registered soon," he added. "They're at the age."
"Working on it."
He stepped aside, clearing the way.
I turned toward the gate—then stopped, glancing down at the three of them.
"One last time," I said.
They looked up immediately.
"Rules."
Karin sighed dramatically. "Stay close, don't touch anything, tell you if something feels wrong."
"Good."
Ruri nodded, composed as always. "We will follow them."
"Hikari will stay with Papa," Hikari added, hugging my arm a little tighter just to emphasize the point.
I studied them for a moment, weighing their answers against their personalities—which, in Karin's case, made this exercise slightly pointless.
I didn't believe it. Not completely.
But it was enough.
I exhaled slowly, letting the tension settle just a fraction.
"…Alright."
And then—
We stepped into the dungeon.
*****
End of Chapter 8
RETIREMENT STATUS REPORT
Owner: Ren Arclight
Former Occupation: Demon King Slayer / World-Saving Archmage
Current Occupation: Dungeon-Returning Caretaker
Peaceful Life Goal:
Avoid dungeons, avoid danger, and maintain a quiet, responsibility-free lifestyle.
Today's Activities:
*Made conscious decision to enter a dungeon
*Prepared supplies for three dragon daughters
*Conducted safety briefing (questionable effectiveness)
*Applied concealment magic for legal compliance
*Successfully passed gate inspection
*Entered dungeon with dependents
New Developments:
*All three children show enthusiasm toward danger
*Karin expresses excitement toward combat scenarios
*Ruri demonstrates understanding of risk
*Hikari remains emotionally attached and physically attached
*Concealment magic successfully altered visible status
Decision Quality:
Highly Questionable
Peaceful Retirement Stability:
100% Before Doorbell
0% Dragons Hatched
–300% First "Papa"
–9000% Public Outing
–30000% Financial Collapse
–60000% Decision to Enter Dungeon
Current Retirement Status:
Actively Self-Sabotaged
Immediate Risks:
*Exposure of true abilities
*Children ignoring instructions
*Unexpected monster encounters
*Karin doing something irreversible
Operational Status:
Dungeon Entry Successful
Control Level: Unstable
Emotional Status:
Awareness - Acceptance - Regret (Preemptive)
Future Outlook:
Catastrophic
Archmage Personal Statement:
"I knew this was a bad idea."
Reality's Response:
"You did it anyway."