The quill shook in Ruby’s hand as she finished signing the last page of the paperwork. The parchment was thick, slightly textured, and smelled—somehow—like both dust and responsibility.
Okay. Contract signed. Guild registration complete. Advisor assigned. Safety lectures survived.
It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine.
Ruby forced herself to breathe as she looked to her right, where Hel sat with the serene composure of someone who absolutely did not just traumatize her with murder statistics she wasn’t allowed to say out loud.
Riveria stood behind them, reviewing Eina’s finalized forms.
“So,” Ruby whispered to Hel, “now that all the boring stuff is done… we’re actually going to the Dungeon. Like… today?”
Hel nodded. “You wished to grow. The Dungeon is where you will do so.”
Ruby swallowed.
Right. Growth. Loot. Cool powers. XP for my soul. Like a real RPG.
Hel’s hand came to rest lightly on her shoulder—gentle, steadying, warm in a way Ruby did not expect from the goddess of death.
“You will not be alone,” Hel said softly. “I will be with you every step.”
Ruby felt her heart stop, restart, then start sprinting.
“O-Okay,” Ruby breathed. “Then… let’s do it.”
Ruby took one determined step toward the door—
—and Eina slammed her hands on the counter.
“ABSOLUTELY NOT!”
Ruby jumped so hard her cape puffed out. Hel merely blinked.
Eina stormed around the booth, brown hair swishing behind her like an angry banner.
“Lady Hel,” she said, voice tight with bureaucratic authority and deeply contained panic, “you cannot accompany Ruby into the Dungeon!”
Ruby froze. “Wh—what? Why not?! She’s my goddess!”
“Exactly!” Eina jabbed a finger upward. “GODS are forbidden from entering the Dungeon! It’s strictly regulated! Heavily enforced! There are centuries of catastrophe-level incidents tied to gods going in! It is the biggest rule in Orario!”
Ruby looked back at Hel, horrified.
“You didn’t tell me that!”
Hel folded her hands neatly in her lap. “You never asked.”
“HEL!”
Eina cleared her throat sharply, pulling their attention back.
“And,” she continued in her best responsible mentor tone, “as a brand-new adventurer with zero combat experience in this world, you are not allowed to go beyond the first floor under any circumstances.”
Ruby deflated like a dying balloon. “Just the first one…?”
Eina gave her a sympathetic look. “Yes. Only the first. And only with basic training and an advisor’s approval.”
“Now Eina,” Hel began with a diplomat’s calm and a mother’s pride, “when it comes to skill, Ruby has a scary amount of it. She has slain monsters far stronger than most novices ever encounter.”
Eina didn’t budge an inch.
“That may be true,” she said firmly, folding her arms like a shield of pure administrative stubbornness, “but she is officially registered as a beginner. And beginners take beginner courses. All of them.”
Ruby squeaked. “All of them?”
“Yes.”
Eina looked her dead in the eyes. “Every. Single. One.”
Hel blinked slowly, as if reevaluating the absurdity of mortal bureaucracy.
“That seems… overly—”
“Necessary.”
Eina’s tone brooked no argument.
“Because no matter her past experiences, she does not understand Orario’s Dungeon, its mechanics, its spawns, its rules, or its dangers. Every floor has unique monster types, unique spawn behavior, and unique hazards. Even Level Ones die every week because they think they’re ‘talented.’”
Ruby flinched.
Hel’s jaw tightened.
Eina continued, relentless. “And as her advisor, I want her alive. So these classes are mandatory.”
Ruby raised her hand timidly. “Um… Does this at least mean I can still do the first floor today?”
Eina paused.
Then sighed.
“Yes. The first floor only. After your orientation class. And only after I personally review your equipment.”
Ruby beamed.
Hel exhaled—not quite defeated, but accepting that mortal red tape was the one force in the universe even gods could not escape.
====
The moment Ruby stepped past the threshold into the Dungeon, everything changed.
The air went still.
Cold.
Vibrating with a quiet, living hum.
The light was dim, blue-green, seeming to seep from the stone walls rather than shine from any source. Roots coiled like veins through the ceiling. The floor felt… soft? Almost like packed earth instead of stone.
Ruby swallowed hard.
“Okay,” she whispered to herself, gripping Crescent Rose’s hilt. “First floor. Beginner level. Totally safe. Eina said nothing on this floor can one-shot me. Hel said she can sense if I die. Again.”
Not comforting.
Not comforting at all.
Still… she’d missed this.
The tension.
The anticipation.
The feeling of stepping into danger with purpose.
Ruby took one careful breath and unfolded Crescent Rose with a sharp shnk—the metal ringing crisply through the quiet corridor. The scythe felt right in her hands. Familiar. Like home.
Her heartbeat steadied.
“All right, Ruby… Let’s do this.” An with that she turned into petals and rushed into the darkness.
===
Her form reassembled as she slid to a stop, boots skidding lightly across the stone.
She exhaled softly.
A goblin ahead blinked at where empty air had been a heartbeat ago.
Its jaw dropped.
Ruby tilted her head.
“Hi!”
It lunged.
She became petals again—
spinning around the creature, re-forming above it in a downward arc—
CRACK.
Crescent Rose’s haft came down like a hammer. The goblin cratered into the dirt before dissolving into blue motes.
Ruby bounced lightly on her heels, excitement bubbling in her chest.
“Ohhhh, I missed this.”
===
and Ruby barely had time to admire the sparkles before she heard it:
A yelp.
High-pitched.
Panicked.
“NONONONONO— stay back!!”
Ruby’s head snapped toward the sound.
Down the corridor, a young newbie adventurer—maybe fourteen, trembling, wearing armor that was two sizes too big—was backed up against a wall. A single goblin advanced on him, knife raised, drooling eagerly.
Ruby didn’t think.
She didn’t plan.
She moved.
The world blurred.
Petals ignited behind her as she surged forward in a burst of red—so fast the goblin didn’t even turn before Crescent Rose’s butt slammed into its jaw.
KRACK.
The creature flew backward, hit the stone, and dissolved into light.
Ruby landed in a crouch, scythe still out, eyes scanning for more threats.
The newbie stared at her.
Then stared at the fading magic from the goblin.
Then stared back at her.
“…w-wh— how— you—” he stammered, voice cracking.
Ruby popped up to her feet, brushing dust from her cape.
“You gotta be careful!” she said, voice bright but firm, before turning into petals and disappearing again.