The atmosphere on the fifth floor of the Dungeon was quieter than usual. The living stone walls rippled with their typical organic texture, pulsing slightly with that ominous rhythm that made the place seem to breathe. The dark roots hanging from the ceiling didn't move much, and the air was still… too still.
Bell walked cautiously through the corridors, his white jacket with red accents billowing slightly behind him. His steps were precise, light, his senses heightened by the [Divine Blessing of Combat Mastery]. His body moved almost instinctively, as if he knew exactly what angle to take to avoid tripping over a stone or how much weight to distribute with each step to move silently. He did it without thinking. That part bothered him a little, but he had to admit: he was efficient.
What was not efficient, however, was the absolute lack of enemies.
"Where are they…?" he muttered softly, his dagger drawn in one hand.
He remembered Eina's warning perfectly, sitting across from him in the guild with her papers and worried expressions. "Bell, you shouldn't go below the third floor yet. You're still new, and the monsters on the fourth floor and above are more dangerous. I'm telling you this for your own good."
And yet, there it was. Floor five.
Not out of recklessness, but out of conviction. After several days of successful fights, well-executed combats, and a series of blessings that gave him ridiculous advantages (including the infamous [Divine Blessing of Sodium Knowledge]), Bell felt he could handle himself. He was moving forward carefully. He wasn't taking unnecessary risks... or so he wanted to believe.
But now, with those long corridors devoid of any trace of goblins or kobolds, something felt off.
No growls. No footsteps. No ambushes.
Only silence.
Bell stopped, frowning. His eyes scanned the corners, the shadows that usually hid enemies ready to pounce. Nothing. And it was strange, because if there was one thing that characterized the Dungeon, it was that there were always—always—monsters.
"Did a large group get through before me?" he thought, though the fifth floor wasn't as heavily traveled by groups capable of clearing it completely. There were also no monster corpses or signs of anyone fighting there recently.
He began to advance more cautiously, moving between columns and forks. The corridor suddenly widened into a small, natural chamber, its walls rougher, and thick roots sprouting from the ground. Bell took a few steps and suddenly felt a slight vibration… then another. As if something large was approaching.
He stopped dead in his tracks. The [Divine Blessing of Combat Mastery] caused his body to assume a ready stance without him even thinking about it.
"That doesn't sound like a goblin…"
The ground vibrated again, now a little more forcefully.
Bell gulped. He'd entered the fifth floor thinking everything would be fine. That the monsters would be the same as the first levels, just a little tougher.
But that silence…
Maybe it wasn't a sign of safety.
Maybe it was a warning.
From inside the tunnel, just beyond the room, something snapped. A thick root tore as if it had been yanked out in fury. Then a growl was heard. Deep. Guttural. Like the suppressed roar of a beast too large for this floor.
Bell took a step back, feeling a chill run down his spine. What emerged from the darkness shouldn't be there.
A minotaur.
Nearly three meters of pure muscle mass. Antlers as black as ink. His eyes, reddish and fierce, fixed on Bell as soon as he emerged into the light of the Dungeon's luminescent crystals.
Bell felt his soul detach from his body for a moment.
"W-what…? A… a minotaur!?" he stammered, unable to stop himself.
That was impossible. A minotaur was a fifteenth-floor monster. Fifteenth floor. He was on the fifth. He was ten floors below where that thing had a right to exist.
The monster snorted, steam rising from its jaws. Then, without wasting a second, it stepped forward.
Bell did what any sensible person—with at least one neuron functioning under pressure—would do.
Ran.
"NO NO NO NO NO!" he yelled as he turned around, feet hitting the ground hard.
The echo of his run bounced off the walls, but so did the rumble of the minotaur's footsteps. The creature was following him. And it was doing so with enthusiasm.
Bell dodged one corner, then another, without looking back. His instincts told him that looking would only slow him down. That looking would confirm he was too close.
The muscles in his legs burned, but he kept running. His jacket flapped behind him. At one point, he felt a giant hand—or claw, or hoof, or whatever—brush against his back. That propelled him to run faster.
"Why is there a minotaur here!? What the hell happened on this floor?!" he yelled into the distance.
And the Dungeon, as always, gave no answer.
Only roars. Only chaos. Only the certainty that a single stumble could mean the end.
Bell spun around at the sight of a branching road ahead… only to realize it wasn't a road, but a wall with no way out. A dead end. The adrenaline froze in his blood.
"…No…!"
He turned around quickly, but it was too late.
The minotaur had turned the corner. Its enormous silhouette obscured the corridor. It roared with such force that the air trembled, and charged straight at him.
Bell barely had time to push himself to the side, rolling across the floor in a clumsy but effective roll. The minotaur's fist slammed into the wall where he'd been standing, causing the stones to shatter like paper. Dust and fragments flew everywhere.
Without thinking, Bell stood up and, with a shout, launched himself at the creature. His body moved on instinct, guided by the [Divine Blessing of Combat Mastery], but his heart pounded with the most primal fear he had ever felt.
His dagger rose and fell, slashing toward the monster's flank.
CLANK!
The blade bounced.
The impact was solid, as if he'd tried to stab a steel wall. The edge of his dagger trembled, his hands vibrated from the force of the impact. There wasn't a single visible scratch.
"W-what…?! I didn't do anything to him!" he exclaimed, taking a few steps back as his brain tried to comprehend the futility of his attempt.
The minotaur turned, growling in a low, amused tone.
To him, Bell was nothing more than a mouse with a knife. A toy he could still break.
The minotaur roared in fury, raising its massive arm to crush Bell with a single blow. The shadow of the fist loomed over him like a tombstone, but before his mind could process it, its body was already moving.
Bell threw himself to the side, rolling on the ground as the stone behind him shattered into pieces.
"Ah… ahhh!" he gasped, his heart pounding. He wasn't fighting, he was surviving.
Another blow descended, and again, Bell moved without thinking, as if his body knew what to do. He jumped back, then spun to avoid a brutal kick that would have shattered his ribs if it had hit him. He fell backward, scrambled to his feet, and moved again just in time to avoid a horizontal sweep that leveled part of the nearby wall.
"Why am I getting this…?! I don't understand…!"
He was terrified. Every dodge was an automatic reaction, a reflex imposed by the [Divine Blessing of Combat Mastery]. His body moved with pinpoint precision, but Bell felt like he wasn't in control. He wasn't a warrior, he wasn't a hero… he was just a boy trying not to die.
And the minotaur, irritated by each mistake, began to move faster. More aggressively. More deadly.
Bell didn't know how much longer he could hold out.
Bell took a couple of steps back, sweat dripping from his forehead as the minotaur faced him, snorting like a bloodthirsty wild beast. He was cornered. His dagger had barely left a mark on the creature's skin, and he wouldn't get another chance to miss.
It was then that his eyes locked on his enemy's face… and he noticed.
The eyes. The only vulnerable part. No hardened muscles, no thick skin. Just flesh, exposed. And for a moment, amidst the fear, he understood.
"That's it… if I can reach one of his eyes, I could at least blind him. Maybe… maybe I'll have a chance."
But the distance from where he was to that area was like climbing a mountain without a rope. He'd have to get dangerously close, jump, and attack with pinpoint precision… all while avoiding a blow that could shatter him.
The minotaur growled again and charged.
Bell gritted his teeth.
"I'm not going to die here!"
And then, for the first time, instead of dodging backward… he ran forward.
The thunder of the minotaur's footsteps shook the ground beneath his feet. The beast's hot, thick breath filled the narrow corridor. The roar it let out made the air vibrate, and yet, Bell didn't stop.
His legs moved reflexively. He wasn't thinking, he was just acting. His body, guided by his blessing, slid, ducked, and dodged the monster's punches with a precision he didn't even understand.
But it wasn't perfect. The wind from a missed blow blew him backward, sending him slamming into a wall. He felt the air escape his lungs, but he forced himself to keep moving. He couldn't stop. Not now.
The minotaur raised his arms for a vertical strike. Bell rolled to the side, and the stone he'd been standing on shattered into a thousand pieces.
The blond elf from his grandfather's dream… the promise of becoming a hero… Syr, Eina, Hestia… all the memories came flooding back, giving him strength.
"I can't fail!"
Bell scanned the minotaur, desperate to find an opening. The chest was too solid. The abdomen, too. The legs were dangerous; one false move and it would crush him. Then he saw it again… the left eye, slightly lowered as the creature snarled.
But he couldn't just jump up and attack. He wouldn't reach it. And if he approached head-on, he'd be annihilated.
Then, an idea formed. Crazy. Dangerous. But it was all I had.
The minotaur charged again, its fists swung toward the ground. Bell dodged just in time, and the monster's fist slammed into the ground, sending up a small cloud of dust and debris.
And Bell did.
He ran toward the minotaur's arm. He used the monster's forearm as a makeshift ramp. He climbed nimbly, and when the minotaur raised its arm to shake him off, Bell was already in the air, right in front of the monster's face.
Time seemed to stand still.
The eye. It was there, as big as the palm of his hand.
With all his strength, with all the speed his body could muster, Bell screamed.
"AAAHHHHHHHHHH!"
And he plunged the dagger straight into the minotaur's left eye.
The minotaur's scream shook the air like thunder, a visceral roar that shook the walls of the fifth floor. Bell, without losing momentum, took advantage of the creature's momentary daze to launch himself onto its neck. With desperate agility, he climbed onto its shoulders as if he were riding a rampaging bull.
"YOU'RE NOT GOING TO THROW ME AWAY THAT EASILY!" he exclaimed, clinging tightly to the beast's rough, muscular body.
The minotaur thrashed about in rage, crashing into walls, spinning wildly, hitting columns, trying to shake off the pesky parasite that was tearing out its eye.
But Bell would not give in.
One hand held him tightly, and with the other, he brandished his dagger, relentlessly stabbing at the bloody left eye socket. Blood soaked his face, but he continued, guided more by instinct than strategy.
The minotaur roared once more, staggering… until it fell to its knees.
Bell felt the tremor beneath his feet.
It was his chance.
He leaped from the monster's neck, landing beside it, ready to deliver the final blow.
But then…
A huge arm moved.
One last blow, weak by the standards of a fifteenth-floor monster, but brutal on the body of a novice adventurer.
The fist landed directly in Bell's abdomen.
The sensation was as if a horse had kicked him, as if a wall had fallen on him. The air escaped his lungs, his ribs screamed in agony, and his body flew several meters, crashing against a wall.
Bell fell to the ground on his back, stunned, gasping for air. His vision was shaking. The dagger had slipped from his hand.
"Gah…!"
The pain kept him conscious.
She forced her body to move. She couldn't leave him like that. Not now.
He got up with difficulty, his breath coming in short bursts. His side was burning.
He would limp later.
He picked up the dagger and, shuffling, approached the minotaur. It was still breathing, barely. Its single eye stared at him with a dying rage.
"This… is for making me run… like crazy…"
And with a cry of fury and pride, Bell plunged the dagger one last time into the monster's brain.
The minotaur's body shuddered…
And he collapsed.
This time, forever.
Bell fell to his knees, shaking, panting, covered in blood from others and his own.
He laughed. A broken laugh, a mixture of relief and shock.
"By the gods…"
He fell on his back.
Bell's body barely responded. Every throb in his ribs hurt like a hammer. His breathing was ragged and ragged, as if every breath was a punishment.
His eyes barely stayed open. The ceiling of the dungeon seemed to spin, as if the world were about to dissolve.
But before everything went completely black…
…a silhouette appeared in his blurred vision.
Hair as golden as the sun at dawn, waving lightly in the Dungeon breeze.
A slim, elegant figure, wrapped in a faint aura of power and calm.
He approached with a firm step, showing no fear of the minotaur's corpse or the pool of blood on the ground.
Bell's heavy eyes barely managed to focus on that golden glow.
"An angel…?" he murmured in a muffled, almost inaudible voice, confused by pain, fatigue, and shock.
The figure leaned slightly toward him, as if to check on him.
And with that…
Bell lost consciousness.
…
Ais Wallenstein descended the upper floors with measured speed, her sword still sheathed, but her gaze as sharp as the blade it carried. She had lost sight of the minotaur a few minutes ago, something that shouldn't have happened... but it had. That creature had fled upwards. Towards the floors where novices walk...
The feeling in her chest wasn't exactly worry. It was more like… a need. A need to prevent someone from dying because of her mistake. She didn't like it when something like that happened. And although her face was as serene as ever, there was a different urgency in her steps.
She moved forward without a word. Her presence was a whisper within the dungeon walls, but inside, emotions pounded. I shouldn't have let him get away... I should have finished him off on the fifteenth floor.
The traces were evident now. Large footprints, marks on the walls, a couple of bloodstains: the minotaur had undoubtedly fought with someone.
And not far away.
Ais quickened her pace. Her body moved by instinct, each step as precise as a choreography she'd practiced a thousand times. Then, turning a corner, she saw the scene.
A boy with snow-white hair and a small, clearly injured body lay collapsed on the cold ground. Unconscious, but still alive. He was breathing heavily, his clothes stained with blood, both his own and that of others.
Ais approached slowly, her footsteps silent in the dungeon, her gaze fixed on him. Her attention was caught not only by the young man, but also by a magic stone larger than any of the monsters on the fifth floor. It was the minotaur's magic stone. This meant that the boy, in an unprecedented act, had defeated the creature.
"…A rookie."
She leaned forward, examining him more closely. He was young, probably too young to be on that floor, much less facing a minotaur. Her eyes lowered to the boy's dagger, simple and cheap, but stained with red blood.
"You… defeated him?" she thought, though his expression showed no surprise.
Her gaze returned to the young man's body, where he was breathing faintly. There seemed to be no despair on his face, only a strange serenity, as if the boy were asleep rather than hurt.
Ais couldn't help but smile slightly. "He's the one who looked like a bunny..." she murmured softly, without thinking too much, as if she'd said it to herself. There was something odd about him. Something that made her find him... adorable, even, despite the situation.
With smooth, natural movements, Ais lifted the boy into her arms. He didn't weigh much, which made him easy to carry. Almost instinctively, she placed him on her lap when she realized his head had fallen down.
The boy rested in Ais's lap, his face peaceful, unconscious, but still alive. For a moment, Ais remained there, her gaze fixed on the boy as he rested, the magical minotaur stone at his side.
She didn't speak. She just remained silent, watching the young man who seemed so out of place in that dangerous world.
Ais stood there, her eyes fixed on the boy's face as his breathing remained shallow but steady. In a gesture that seemed involuntary, her fingers began to gently brush through Bell's white hair, which rested in her lap.
It was an action she hadn't expected to take, but she couldn't help it. There was something about that small frame, about the young man's fragility, that compelled her to care for him without thinking. Stroking his hair was a tender, almost protective gesture, and although she was someone who rarely gave in to impulse, something inside her made her feel connected to him, even if it was in a strange and sudden way.
The boy lay so peaceful in her lap, so oblivious to the struggle he'd faced, and so out of place in the brutal environment. Ais watched as his face, marked by exhaustion and suffering, showed a momentary peace. It was as if, for a second, the Dungeon was no longer there, nor the creatures, nor the danger.
Ais let out a soft sigh, looking at the young man on her lap with a strange mix of admiration and a hint of tenderness. Her mind wandered for a moment to the boy, wondering who he was, why he was there, and what kind of adventure had brought him to this dangerous floor.
"Why…?" she thought, speechless. "Why did you take such a risk?"
For a moment, Ais remained silent, not responding to herself, stroking the boy's head with a gentleness she rarely displayed. Her fingers ran slowly through Bell's white hair, as if seeking to calm himself, as if hoping something inside her would also calm down as she did so.
The sound of Bell's breathing, calm and even, was the only thing that could be heard in the silence of the dungeon. Ais didn't rush to leave. There was no rush. She knew she should take him somewhere safe, where he could get help, but for now, in that small moment, she just wanted to make sure he was okay.
Bell blinked slowly, feeling a pressure in his head. The pain from his injuries was still present, but something was different. His vision cleared, and when he opened his eyes fully, he realized something wasn't right. The soft feeling under his head felt strange, even… comfortable.
His gaze began to adjust, and when he looked up, he found himself staring at something he hadn't expected: a familiar face, one he couldn't quite place. The girl, who had a calm, serene expression, was looking at him with curious, gentle eyes.
"Hey! What?!"
Bell bolted upright, his face completely red, heat rising rapidly to his cheeks. He found himself in a very… awkward position. He was on a girl's lap, and it wasn't just any girl. She was a young woman with blond hair, angelic in appearance, and with an expression that left him completely speechless.
"I-I'm so sorry! I don't know how I got here!"
He could barely get his words out as he tried to get up quickly, but the wounds on his body didn't help in the slightest. He only felt more clumsy, and his body wobbled. Immediately, a faint glimmer of discomfort appeared in his eyes.
"S-should I get up? I'm so sorry… I didn't mean to… This wasn't my idea!" Her words came out in a stumbling mess, almost as if she were searching for a way to vanish into thin air.
Shame washed over him, and he felt completely embarrassed. What was going on?! He was in the lap of a girl who, to top it all off, seemed to be as beautiful as she was strong. The feeling of discomfort enveloped him completely.
"I-I must have fainted or something… how did I get here?" he muttered, looking around, not fully understanding what had happened. Despite everything, his mind was somewhat foggy; the minotaur's blow had left its mark.
Ais watched him silently, closely observing Bell's reactions as he tried to compose himself, still visibly embarrassed. The blush on her face didn't disappear, but something in her softened at seeing him so genuine, so human, so... different from most of the adventurers she encountered in the Dungeon. The truth was, she wasn't used to meeting people who seemed so out of place in such a dangerous environment.
"Were you the one who killed the minotaur?" Ais asked, her voice as calm as ever, but with barely concealed curiosity. The question, though direct, held no judgment. Ais simply wanted to confirm something she had seen: the minotaur was dead, and Bell was unconscious near it, holding the dagger.
Bell, somewhat confused by the question and still slightly embarrassed, nodded with difficulty, looking down, as if somehow trying to hide even further in the situation.
"Yes… it was me," he said in a faint voice, his words slightly shaky. "It wasn't easy, but… I managed to do it."
Instantly, he noticed something strange. The number bar hovering above Ais had changed from a 3 to a 5. Bell blinked, trying to understand what it meant.
"What the…?" he muttered, not realizing he was saying it out loud.
Ais watched him closely, noticing his bewilderment, but said nothing about it.
"She already had a good impression of me?" Bell thought, confused. "But we haven't met before… how is that possible?"
He remained silent for a moment, reflecting on how strange the situation seemed to him. Despite having had no meaningful interaction with her up to that point, Ais's bar had increased. Did that mean her impression of him was positive? And if so, why?
Bell, completely distracted by his own thoughts, rubbed his head, still somewhat disoriented by what had happened.
"That's weird…" he thought. "I've never noticed anything like this before."
Ais, for her part, watched his reaction without rushing to respond. She didn't seem to need words to understand Bell's confusion, and the fact that he was so bewildered just seemed... endearing.
"My name is Ais Wallenstein," she finally said, introducing herself in a neutral tone but with a gentleness that Bell couldn't miss. "I'm part of the Loki familia."
Bell, still somewhat stunned, looked at her for a moment. He didn't know much about the familias in Orario, but he had heard the name of the Loki familia in rumors. It was known to be one of the most powerful familias, with a renowned group of adventurers. Ais was, without a doubt, one of its most prominent members.
"So… you're one of the Loki familia adventurers?" Bell asked, trying to compose himself. "Does that mean… you're one of the best?"
Ais nodded slightly, the same calm expression on her face.
"I'm a member of the Loki familia," she repeated, as if that said it all. "And I'm not the best, but… my skills are enough."
Bell nodded, feeling a little more respect for her, though he didn't know why. Something about the way she spoke, so self-assured and direct, made him feel as if he weren't talking to just any adventurer, but someone out of his league.
As Bell continued to watch her, Ais's bar, which had risen from a 3 to a 5, remained there, unchanging. It didn't seem to move anymore, but the young man couldn't help but wonder if everything that had happened up to that point was somehow affecting Ais's perception of him.
"Could it be possible that…?" Bell began to think, but his mind couldn't find a clear answer.
Instead of dwelling on the matter, he decided to focus on the situation. He looked up and, somewhat nervously, said, "So, if you're here... does that mean your familia got away with a group of minotaurs?"
Ais nodded slowly, still observing him with her usual serious expression. "Yes. We were chasing them to prevent them from causing more trouble on the upper floors. But one of them got separated from the group and ended up here."
Bell frowned at that. He thought about how close he'd come to losing his life at the hands of the minotaur and what that meant. He couldn't help but murmur, "So... I was almost killed because of you?"
Ais looked at him, a fleeting flicker of surprise crossing her face, but she said nothing. Bell's question, though laced with reproach, didn't seem to affect her much. However, there was something in her gaze that told him she wasn't being malicious. It was more a mixture of confusion and frustration at what had happened.
Bell tried to correct his tone, regretting what he'd just said. "Sorry, I didn't mean to... say that. It's just, I don't know, this all happened so fast, and I didn't expect to run into such a strong monster. I thought I'd done something wrong..."
Ais watched him silently, noticing his discomfort. Without saying anything, she simply shook her head in a small gesture that was almost imperceptible to Bell, but which somehow gave him the feeling that she wasn't judging him for what he'd said. Ais wasn't one for explanations, and perhaps that's why her response was something as simple as the following:
"Don't worry. It's not your fault."
Bell felt somewhat relieved by Ais's words. Although her calm and straightforward demeanor had puzzled him at first, she now seemed like the type of person who wasn't easily upset, which gave him some comfort. "Thank you," he murmured, nodding slightly.
Ais simply smiled subtly, as if her gesture of understanding came naturally to her. It wasn't a full smile, but it was genuine, as if she were doing it effortlessly. "It's nothing. Take care."
Bell stared at her for a moment, not quite sure what to say, but sensing that there was something about that goodbye that felt... right. Amidst everything that had happened, the connection that had begun to form between them gave him a strange sense of calm. It wasn't a deep bond, but it felt like a first step.
"I will. Thanks for your concern, and… if you ever need help, I'd love to return the favor."
Ais nodded, not pausing. "Maybe you need it more than I do, but I'll remind you."
With those words, she turned and began walking, unhurriedly. The sound of her footsteps gradually faded, and Bell stood there, watching her walk away. It wasn't a solemn farewell, but it didn't need to be. There was something about that exchange that, though brief, had left him with a feeling of well-being.
With one last look, Bell stood up, slowly regaining control of his breathing and his now less tense body. He was grateful for the opportunity to meet someone like Ais, someone who seemed so confident and so willing to offer a helping hand without expecting anything in return.
"I hope I can be as strong as her someday," he muttered to himself, as he started walking in the opposite direction.
Somehow, he felt lighter, more prepared for what awaited him in the Dungeon. But there was also something else: the certainty that not everything in this world was meant to be faced alone.