Ruby, very proudly, very unintentionally, had created a problem.
A big problem.
Because she had killed nearly forty goblins in the span of half an hour.
And collected exactly…
…none of their magic stones.
Not a single one.
She kept meaning to! She really did! But then another goblin showed up, and another, and it became a sort of “Whack-a-Mole But With Monsters” situation, and—
And somewhere deep in the Dungeon’s living core, the flow of mana wavered.
It noticed.
Uncollected magic.
Too much.
Too fast.
Too clustered.
The Dungeon reacted the only way it knew how:
By producing something terrible.
Something hungry.
Something that should not exist on the first floor.
The walls pulsed.
The discarded magic stones melted into the floor, merging into a knot of unstable mana—
And the ground 20 feet behind Ruby exploded upward.
Ruby turned just in time to see it.
The irregular dragged itself free in a shower of dust and stone.
A goblin—
No, not a goblin.
Bigger.
Twice the height.
Thick cords of muscle.
Skin like cracked obsidian.
Eyes glowing an unnatural violet.
And worst of all—
It didn’t look stupid.
It looked aware.
Ruby stared.
The irregular stared back.
It opened its maw and gave a screech so loud the air vibrated.
Ruby lowered Crescent Rose slowly.
“…Oh,” she whispered. “This will be fun!”
The irregular lunged.
Not a clumsy goblin charge—no, this thing moved. Its feet cracked the stone with each stride, claws carving trenches as it accelerated straight toward her.
Ruby planted her heel, aura flaring, Crescent Rose spinning once in her grip.
“Fast—!”
The irregular’s maw split open, violet eyes gleaming with predatory hunger as it lunged—
Ruby vanished in a burst of petals.
Her voice echoed through the air behind it.
“But so utterly SLOW!”
A single, perfect crimson arc flashed across the dim cavern.
SHHNK.
The monster’s momentum carried its body forward two more stumbling steps—before its head slid clean off, thudding wetly against the stone.
The torso collapsed a heartbeat later, dissolving into black smoke and dropping a massive violet-glowing magic stone that clattered across the ground.
Ruby reappeared behind it, Crescent Rose already folded against her hip with a soft click.
She exhaled.
“…Huh. Well that was anticlimactic.”
Ruby bent down and scooped up the oversized magic stone, turning it over in her fingers. It pulsed faintly, reminding her of a dying ember slowly cooling.
“Big guy, big rock, It almost looks like dust, maybe I can make ammo for Crimson Rose” she mused. “Totally cool!”
She slid it into her pouch, dusted her knees off, and gave the dissolving remains a respectful little nod—force of habit, really. Even monsters deserved something after a fight.
“Well,” she said brightly, stretching her back until it popped, “I guess it’s time to head back up.”
She took two steps and froze.
“Where was the stair case again?” Ruby asks
========
A distant scream echoed down the corridor.
High-pitched. Young. Terrified.
Ruby straightened slowly.
“…Okay,” she whispered, “maybe they know where the exit is.”
====
Eina had expected a quiet morning—paperwork, schedules, training recommendations, the usual headaches of rookie management.
She did not expect to be sitting across from Hel, Goddess of Death, who was sipping tea in complete serenity despite having just threatened several Guild employees by existing.
Eina cleared her throat, hands folded neatly over her clipboard.
“So… once Ruby finishes her first floor trial run, she’ll return here for debriefing. Assuming she stays within limits.”
Hel blinked at her mildly. “Ruby listens,” she said.
Eina opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Tried again.
“Does she?” she asked carefully.
“She listens,” Hel repeated. “She simply… also acts.”
Before Eina could unpack that ominous sentence, the front doors to the Guild slammed open.
An adventurer rushed in
“WE GOT A SITUATION!” he yelled.
Eina jumped to her feet. “What happened? Is it an evacuation?! A wave!”
“No! No—worse!” the man gasped, pointing behind him as if expecting whatever it was to chase him inside. “There’s some… some high-level adventure tearing through the first floor leaving the magic stones behind.”
Eina blinked.
Once.
Twice.
“…I’m sorry,” she said slowly, “did you just say ‘high-level adventurer on the first floor’… leaving all the magic stones behind?”
The man nodded so hard his helmet slipped sideways.
“Y-Yes! Goblins everywhere—well, pieces of goblins everywhere! No stones picked up—none! Just dust and blood!” He pointed to the doorway again as if begging someone to believe him. “We told the Guild before—this kind of behavior pisses the Dungeon off! It’s building mana like crazy down there!”
A second adventurer stumbled in behind him—wide-eyed, clutching a cracked dagger.
“She moves like a ghost!” he yelped. “Red cloak—big scythe—cuts through goblins like she’s late for dinner! I swear she’s a level 4 or something—AND SHE’S IGNORING THE LOOT!”
Eina’s voice rose an octave.
“Who would—what KIND of person—would kill that many monsters and not collect ANY of the—?!”
Another adventurer barged in, shaking.
“There’s already a corpse-pile spot! The Dungeon’s gonna spit out an irregular any second—!”
Hel let out a long, weary sigh—the kind that said she had very much expected this and been very much disappointed to be proven right so quickly.
“Damn it, Ruby…” she muttered under her breath, pinching the bridge of her nose.
That single sentence somehow made every adventurer in earshot go even paler.
Eina whipped toward her so fast her glasses nearly flew off.
“HEEEEEL?! HEEEEL! Don’t tell me—don’t you DARE tell me that the mysterious overpowered scythe girl is—”
Hel cut her off with a flat look.
“My child is enthusiastic, not malicious.”
One of the adventurers whimpered.
“E-Enthusiastic shouldn’t erase forty goblins in ten minutes!”
Another raised a trembling hand.
“She decapitated one without slowing down. I think she was… humming?”
Eina slammed her palms on the counter.
“HUMMING?! YOU CAN’T HUM WHILE CAUSING A DUNGEON WAVE!”
Hel cleared her throat lightly, drawing the room’s attention.
“Everyone,” she said, voice calm, almost serene. “I will go fetch her. She has likely killed the irregular already.”
The room froze.
Eina looked like she’d aged ten years in ten seconds.
“…She WHAT?” she whispered.
Hel clasped her hands behind her back, expression unchanging.
“She is, after all… very skilled.”
Hel stepped out of the Guild doors and into the bright street—her calm, dignified stride almost convincing enough to hide the deep, cosmic exasperation radiating off her.
She didn’t even get three steps before her eyes caught movement.
Two figures approached the Guild gate.
One was clearly Ruby—hood up, cloak fluttering in the breeze, Crescent Rose folded neatly at her back.
The other was an adventurer roughly her height, far less composed, and visibly rattled. The poor girl looked like she’s aged a decade or so just being in the company of the silver eyed red reaper.
Hel’s stride slowed the moment the pair came into focus.
Ruby—bright-eyed, cloak swishing innocently.
And beside her…
A female adventurer about Ruby’s height, shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, clutching Ruby’s wrist as though letting go would unleash something catastrophic back into the Dungeon.
The girl’s eyes were wide, pupils blown, hair frazzled. She looked like she had witnessed something that would haunt her dreams forever.
Hel stopped in front of them, folding her hands neatly.
Ruby brightened instantly.
“Hel! I’m back!”
The adventurer swallowed, voice trembling.
“She—she—she killed so many,” she whispered, as if confessing to a war crime. “She didn’t slow down. She didn’t look. She didn’t breathe. SHE LAUGHED—”
“I giggled,” Ruby corrected, offended.
The girl continued, unblinking, “She moved like a wraith—like a wraith with cardio—”
Ruby mumbled, “I can explain.”
Hel simply blinked once. “I see.”
The adventurer shook Ruby’s wrist at Hel like presenting contraband.
“She didn’t take ANY stones! Not ONE! I tried telling her—she just ran —she turned into flowers—I don’t—”
“Petals,” Ruby corrected again, smaller this time. “And I didn’t run.”
The adventurer made a weak, traumatized noise.
Hel exhaled softly, the sigh of a goddess who was both resigned and unsurprised.
“Thank you,” she told the girl. “You may release her.”
The adventurer let go so fast Ruby’s arm shot up like a released slingshot.
“S-sorry, Lady Hel! I swear I tried to stop her! I really did! But she just kept smiling—It was the smile of someone who enjoys—who ENJOYS—”
Hel raised a hand, silencing her gently.
“Yes. I know.”
Ruby wilted. “…Am I in trouble?”
Hel turned to her with that calm, divine patience that suggested the answer was absolutely yes.
“You caused a Guild-level panic,” Hel said evenly. “And an irregular.”
Ruby held up the large violet magic stone.
“But I cleaned it up…?”
The adventurer whimpered.
Hel gave Ruby a very soft, very tired pat on the head.
“We are going inside,” she said. “The Guild wishes to speak with you. No more dungeon until you go through the beginners classes.”
Ruby’s shoulders slumped instantly, like someone had just unplugged her aura.
“No more dungeon…?” she echoed, voice small and wobbly.
Hel didn’t soften—not outwardly, anyway. But her hand stayed on Ruby’s head a moment longer, steady and grounding.
“No more dungeon,” Hel repeated, tone firm enough to stop a rampaging Minotaur. “Not until you complete your beginner courses.”
Ruby looked like she’d been stabbed.
===
Eina had her hands clasped together so tightly her knuckles were white.
She took a slow breath.
Then another.
Then she leveled a tremor-controlled smile at Ruby that could've cut through steel.
“Miss… Rose.”
The smile did not reach her eyes.
“Do you know what happens… when an adventurer slaughters forty-plus monsters on the first floor… and leaves all of their magic stones behind?”
Ruby shrank an inch.
“…Um. The dungeon gets cranky?”
Eina’s smile twitched. “Yes. Cranky. It becomes… irregular.”
She set a stack of papers on the counter. It hit with the weight of doom.
Eina continued, voice a strained whisper:
“And when an irregular manifests on the first floor, do you know who receives a very large report about negligent adventurer conduct?”
Ruby swallowed. “You… do?”
“I. DO.”
Eina exhaled through her teeth. “And so does the Guild. And so does Uranus. And so does my supervisor. And my supervisor’s supervisor.”
Ruby wilted like a dying flower.
Hel, standing beside her, gave a helpless exhale. “This one was my fault. I didn’t tell her about drops and to make sure to clean up after herself.”
Eina held up a finger—sharp, scolding.
“No, Lady Hel, that is kind, but the Guild cannot let this slide. Leaving that many stones behind triggered an irregular, endangered civilians, risked a floor-wave—”
She tapped a line on the paper.
“There is a penalty fee.”
Ruby froze. “A… a fee?”
“Yes. A very hefty one. For catastrophic stone negligence.”
Ruby clutched Crescent Rose’s strap like a lifeline.
“H-How much?”
Eina flipped the paper around.
The number was large enough that Ruby made an auditory squeak.
Hel blinked. “…That seems excessive. Although it should be fine. Loki will pay it.”
Eina’s smile froze.
Ruby stared at Hel.
The guild hall went silent.
“…Loki will pay it?” Eina repeated carefully, as if confirming whether Hel had truly detonated a divine landmine in the middle of her office.
Hel nodded, serene. “Naturally. She owes me several favors.”
Ruby whispered, “Oh no.”
Eina, now visibly sweating, leaned forward.
“Lady Hel… you can’t just assign an inter-familia dungeon violation penalty to another goddess.”
Hel blinked, genuinely puzzled. “Why not?”
“Because—because—BECAUSE SHE’LL COME IN HERE SCREAMING!”
Hel shrugged elegantly. “She usually does that anyway.”
===
Loki lounged in her office chair, feet up on the desk, humming smugly to herself as she sorted through paperwork she absolutely wasn’t going to finish.
A staffer knocked nervously.
“Uh… Lady Loki? A delivery from the Guild.”
“Oho? Fan mail? Bribes? A strongly worded complaint? Put it on the desk.”
The staffer swallowed and placed a sealed envelope in front of her.
Loki ripped it open with casual boredom.
Then her eyes landed on the number.
Her soul left her body.
Her chair tipped backward and slammed onto the floor with a crash.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH—!”
The entire manor heard it.
Even the neighbors heard it.
Birds in a two-block radius fled the city.
Loki shot upright, hair disheveled, face pale as death itself.
“A forty million VALIS?! FOR WHAT?!? WHAT DID MY IDIOT CHILDREN DO?! WHO BLEW UP WHAT?! WHO ANGERED WHO?! WHY IS THIS NUMBER SO BIG—?!”
She flipped the page.
Reason for Charge:
“New Adventurer cleared an abnormally large section of the first floor without collecting dropped magic stones, causing Dungeon activity spike and spawning an irregular. As sponsor deity, Loki Familia is responsible.”
Loki froze.
Then:
“HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEL!!!” she screeched, launching out of her office like a missile, the paper clenched in both fists.