The afternoon sun hung just right over Orario.
Though the darkness steeped around the city had yet to lift, this metropolis that gathered countless adventurers was, in its own way, still blossoming today with all the life and vigor of a labyrinth city.
The masked blonde elf walking down the middle of the street kept her ears trained in every direction and her eyes on all sides.
She was on guard not only against the Evils faction, who might come bursting out of some corner to wreak havoc, but she also showed no mercy toward the petty thieves and pickpockets operating around her.
In this Dark Age, when public order had clearly deteriorated, patrolling the city on a regular basis like this was something her Familia, the just Astrea Familia, had always taken up with real diligence.
No one had asked them to.
Driven by nothing but their sense of duty, these maidens of justice had taken it upon themselves to keep the city safe through the Dark Age.
And the one patrolling this district today was a proud young woman of the elven race, her long hair like flowing gold.
An LV3 adventurer of the Astrea Familia, known as “Gale” — Ryuu Lion.
“Looks like today’s another quiet day, too.” Walking through the bustling streets with her face concealed, the blonde elf let out a small breath of relief.
Orario was entirely at peace today.
Not only was there no trace of the Evils at work, she hadn’t even run into a single pickpocket.
And just as the elf lady was quietly savoring the tranquility of the day, a friend who had been scheming for a long while had already set her ambush in the shadows.
“Liiii—oooon—!!” Along with a burst of high-spirited cheer, a soft, springy impact came flying in from behind and struck Ryuu squarely in the back.
“Got—you!” “A-Adi?!” The blonde elf, caught off guard by the surprise attack, gave a start, while the blue-haired girl who had just pulled off her running body-check flashed a smug, everything-went-to-plan grin.
“That’s right!
It’s Adi — the one who’s great at pouncing and clinging like a puppy, yet insists she’s a cat person, only for Lord Ganesha to overhear and forcibly sell her on ‘you know, elephants are pretty great too’!
Ta-daa~!” “…Please don’t just leap onto people like that in public.
And why do you have to introduce yourself every single time you show up?!” Facing her friend, who had come at her with both arms outstretched, the blonde elf — who always avoided physical contact with others — wore a look of astonishment even as she fired back her retort.
“Sorry, sorry, but I just wanted to hug this version of Lion, y’know~.” Not looking the least bit guilty as she apologized, the girl pressed her body tight against the elf’s, her two peaks — fuller than Ryuu’s own — leaning warmly into her back.
“Gh-guhh—!!!” With her inborn cleanliness streak and prim, serious nature, the elf’s face went hot.
This kind of overly enthusiastic physical contact always left her at a bit of a loss.
Though her mouth stopped the girl every time from crossing that line, there was no real disgust in those sky-blue eyes.
The bright, straightforward Adi Varma, born into the city’s peacekeeping Ganesha Familia, was the patrol partner Ryuu often ran into outside of her own Familia.
She was also the only true friend Ryuu had in this city, apart from her comrades in the Astrea Familia.
“So, as a way to make up for just now — Jyaga Maru Kun, fresh from the line I just waited in.
It’s even the limited-edition red bean flavor.” Letting go with a giggle and spinning around, Adi produced a steaming paper bag as if by magic and held it out.
“…Thank you.” “Hee-hee—” Ryuu took the bag, looked at her friend’s beaming face, and asked thoughtfully, “Adi, has something good happened to you lately?” “Eh?
Is it that obvious?” Adi touched her own cheek, as though she hadn’t quite noticed anything different about herself.
“Very obvious.” Ryuu bit into a Jyaga Maru Kun, her tone certain.
“Something good, huh… heh, well, I suppose you could call it that.” Adi’s face carried its usual gentle smile, her expression as calm as ever, though her voice held a trace of reminiscence.
“Or rather — I’m just hoping that the justice I’ve entrusted to someone else might, one day, pass on to others too.” “Adi?” Ryuu tilted her head, not quite following the clearly loaded riddle the girl had spoken.
“It’s nothing.
I’m just talking about a little something that happened to me recently.” With a bag of Jyaga Maru Kun cradled in her arms, Adi seemed to remember something and suddenly turned to ask Ryuu a rather abrupt question.
“Say, Lion.
If you had to live all alone deep in the Dungeon, how long do you think you could hold out?” “Alone in the Dungeon?” Ryuu stopped walking and gave it serious thought for a moment.
“That would depend on the specifics.” The depth of the floor one stayed on, the amount of supplies carried, the remaining durability of one’s equipment — all of these factors affected an adventurer’s survival in the Dungeon.
“If it were the upper or middle floors, where the monsters are relatively weak, you could survive for a long time as long as you secured a water source.” “The monsters on the lower floors are more troublesome.
Even with water and food, you probably couldn’t last very long.” “As for the deep floors—” Ryuu shook her head, a hint of dread in her voice.
“Sorry, I’d rather not even imagine the possibility of surviving down there alone.” “I see.” Hearing the conclusion from her friend, who had Expedition experience, Adi nodded thoughtfully.
“And beyond all that, being alone in the Dungeon puts an enormous burden on you mentally as well.” “Mental burden?” Adi blinked, hearing an unexpected factor from her.
According to the Guild, an adventurer with latent ability in the upper reaches of LV2 could survive the lower floors as part of a party.
Delving in alone, on the condition of avoiding combat with Enhanced Species and rare monsters as much as possible, raised that requirement to the mid-range of LV3.
That was a judgment made purely from an adventurer’s stats.
“Mm — if anything, when you’re surviving in the Dungeon completely alone, or as the sole survivor of a wiped-out party, this might be the most lethal factor of all.” Wounded comrades dying one after another, until you’re the only one left in the lightless Dungeon.
Equipment broken, items lost.
Behind you, monsters covet your flesh; ahead, no glimmer of escape in sight.
“The mental strain acts directly on your usual condition.
It can cause fatal slip-ups, and I’ve heard there are more than a few adventurers who take their own lives because of it.” “The mental pressure that builds up while surviving alone in the Dungeon, huh?
I really hadn’t thought about that.” What Lion had said was a factor Adi had never considered before.
So then — just how long had that clever Mister Artorias been living alone in the Dungeon?
And how much time had it taken him to grow from a feeble Goblin into what he was now?
She thought she finally understood why, when facing monsters who couldn’t answer him in words, Artorias would still sometimes talk to himself and answer his own questions.
At that, Ryuu seemed to recall something, and turned to look at Adi.
“Come to think of it, Adi — a while back, didn’t you take on a special commission from the Guild about the upper floors?
Something about rookie adventurers mysteriously falling unconscious.” “Mm, there was indeed something like that.” Adi guiltily looked away.
“Did that ever have a follow-up?” “That one… the situation’s a little complicated.” Adi laughed it off, trying to steer the topic aside.
“But from what I investigated, it wasn’t any malicious assault case.
And I think there probably won’t be any more incidents of adventurers being inexplicably attacked from now on.” “After all, I’ve already done a proper job of talking things through.” After all, as long as Mister Artorias no longer robbed newcomers just to survive, that commission would naturally resolve itself.
“Is that so?
Then that’s good.” Taking out a napkin to wipe the Jyaga Maru Kun in her hand, the elf lady nodded, and with a faintly gloating smile added offhandedly, “Then it looks like Kaguya’s going to come away empty-handed this time.” “Yeah, what a hassle for Kaguya to have made the trip for noth—” The moment she realized what she’d just heard, Adi’s casual agreement — along with the Jyaga Maru Kun she’d been about to pop into her mouth — froze at her lips.
“Wait — Lion… did you just say Kaguya took that upper-floor commission too?” “Mm.” Ryuu confirmed it.
“There’s a rare material Kaguya wants on the middle floors.
When she went to the Guild to check its recent distribution, she happened to see that commission.” “Counting the time it takes to set out, her investigation is probably already finished by now.” Since that “anomaly” had already been dealt with by Adi, Kaguya — one step behind — would likely turn up nothing, grumble about it, and then push past the upper floors to go hunt down the rare material she was after.
Unaware of why the girl before her looked so shocked, the blonde elf simply explained the situation as usual.
“…” The Jyaga Maru Kun in Adi’s hand dropped to the ground with a plop.
“Sorry, Lion!
I just remembered there’s something extremely urgent I need to deal with back at the Familia!” An ominous premonition suddenly welled up inside her.
Without stopping to explain, she shoved the remaining paper bag into Ryuu’s arms and spoke at breakneck speed.
“Can I leave the rest of the patrol to you?
Something’s come up — I have to go on ahead.” “That’s not a problem, but…” Before Ryuu could even react, that deep-blue figure had already dashed off like a gust of wind.
“Eh?
But, Adi, wait—” Ryuu, holding an armful of Jyaga Maru Kun, watched her friend’s retreating back, utterly bewildered.
“An urgent matter within the Familia?” The blonde elf furrowed her brow.
If it really were Familia business, why was she running in that direction?
—That direction was clearly the road leading to the entrance of the Dungeon.