5 Keeping Up with the Hestia Familia (3)

"UROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAR!"

The ground on the fifth floors of the deadly Dungeon shook from the quaking stomps by the pair of cloven feet stampeding the hulking form a rampaging Minotaur after its target, a girlishly shrieking 14-year-old boy. Taking glances past his shoulders, he did his very best not to look the Minotaur in its bloody red eyes and looked past their current area to find the pathways behind them were completely empty.

Normally, the sanest reaction to noticing that you're effectively alone with a higher leveled hulking murder machine of a monster would be to feel absolute dread. However, that wasn't the case for the boy since for a split second, he oddly gave a sigh of…relief? The feeling didn't linger however as he released another terrified shriek as one of the Minotaur's huge meaty hands would have nearly batted his head off of his shoulders if he didn't duck his head in time.

Now…the questions that would be going through so many minds (his included) witnessing/experiencing this would be: Why was he on the fifth floor? Why was there a Level 2 Monster chasing him on the Upper levels? And how come he's screaming his lungs out like a little girl?

All the answers for those first two questions will be answered in due time while the last question could just be justified by the dungeon's echoing environment pitching his screams to higher octaves. Yes, it was exactly that, Bell desperately thought, hoping to convince even himself.

No, to address the big old bull monster chasing him through the halls and rooms of the dungeon's fifth floor, lets retread a couple of hours before all of the crying, screaming, and destruction took place.

Today had started off just as well as the other past mornings. He left home with a full stomach, he had remembered to keep longsword clean last night, and he's been making substantial progress in the dungeon's four upper floors. In total, he's slain about 25 goblins and 12 kobolds. Some of the beginning encounters were just simple single targets, but his luck did start to get a bit crummy when the dungeon chose a distasteful time to spawn groups of the offending monsters in front of him or behind him.

He panicked the one time that a goblin had spawned on top of him from a wall closer to the ceiling while he was just carefully walking by it. Thankfully, he was now strong enough in status to overpower the little devil with a swift shoulder throw and his blade in its gut. Funny, if this were his first week in the dungeon, he would have died of a heart attack at the startling surprise, but now he felt confident to be walking the upper floors.

That's not to say that he wasn't cautious. He's been warned countless times by his Guild Advisor to always be alert because in the Dungeon anything could happen. Though he disliked it when she told him cautionary tales of unfortunate beginners (like the usual adventurer, who was verging on Leveling Up to Level 2, but met his fate at the filthy hands of a legion of monsters spawning from the walls, a Monster Party), but heeded them or else he'd end up as just another statistic like those before him.

When he had first entered the dungeon under the Captain and Iris' supervision, he was pretty overwhelmed by the eerie atmosphere that it had. He also remembered panicking when he encountered his first real monster lunging at him to kill. A futile effort since it along with the many other monsters were dispatched by the Captain and Vice-Captain of his Familia, but still, fear of looking into the monster's feral red eyes had struck him so deep. The Heartless that he had encountered before joining might have been monsters of blackened horror, but when faced with the dungeon's murderous beasts, he was shaken by their sheer bloodlust to end him, no, to end anything that held any humanity.

Heartless or Monster, they both came with their own shades of terror and horror.

During his first visit, he didn't really do any fighting and was simply there to be given the run down on how the dungeon operated and observe them since he'd be doing it himself soon enough. Why soon? Well because matters of his preparation to face the dungeon were still incomplete.

No one in his Familia wanted him to explore the dreaded underground dungeon so blindly without the proper adventurer education, equipment, skills, and mindset. Now the education could easily be provided by the Guild through his new advisor, but the rest would have to be provided by his Familia, who gladly took their time to organically walk him through the motions.

This only made him more grateful for his Goddess and new family since he was not only provided his very first weapon, the longsword (the Captain's hand-me down) from them, but also lessons in learning how to wield it without going into the dungeon to learn based on solely experience. The training was harsh and a bit odd, but each with each passing lesson, he'd learn something new, be taken to the dungeon to be watched over by one of his seniors and test it out through real combat against goblins and kobolds.

Now the monsters weren't pushovers the first and second week, but he found them to be less intimidating to face than his Captain, and especially Karen (though he'd never admit that lest he make the girl despise him even more). Now there were a few close calls here and there, but he's gotten some considerable experience out of the back to back sword training and dungeon diving routine.

It wasn't until Wednesday on the second week when his Captain had deemed him ready enough to at least handle going into the dungeon alone and gave him the choice to try going solo for a bit. The prospect of going by himself was frankly scary, but he willed himself to at least try braving the dungeon by cheering himself up that he'd might even rescue a girl if he was lucky enough.

He wasn't, though he at least proved to himself that he could handle the Dungeon's upper floors by himself.

Primarily that filled him with confidence to handle the dungeon on his own (with a few tense awkward assistances from Karen when they made a party at first), but after a while, all of that confidence soon festered into complacency. His stats' growth have been fine and even praised by his Goddess, but he still couldn't shake off the sense of inadequacy around his Captain and the other two in the Familia.

Plus, his four weeks in dungeon have yielded him no results in finding a damsel to save!

Everything was beginning to feel like a chore to him; slay the monster, carve out the magic crystal, rinse and repeat. Do that every time until you feel exhausted or lack the incentive to continue. This type of routine did change his rose-tinted glasses of how the wonderous and dangerous life of an adventurer to a dreary gray since at this point his ventures have begun to feel like a job than an actual adventure.

"Remember, Bell, adventurers mustn't go on adventures!"

The reprimanding words of his advisor, Eina Tulle rang through his head. He could never get them out of his head since she's beaten it into him ever since he became her responsibility to teach and guide him. That contradictory phrase meant for adventurers to not explore the dungeon with reckless abandon otherwise, they'd die before their "supposed" adventure could even begin.

Normally, Bell would heed these words whenever the stray thought of delving deeper into the dungeon crossed him mind, but as of recently, the phrase no longer warded him from considering to go beyond the fourth floor. The ugly feeling of stagnation was starting to take hold of him, he needed to do something otherwise, he'll feel like he's in a rut with his progress.

His monetary contributions to the Familia's ledgers were miniscule.

The gap in power between him and his seniors (Karen, Iris and the Captain) were still understandably vast, but also still very frustrating.

And to top it all off, he still hasn't found a damsel to save yet!

Most of the issue with these ruts was the fact that he also had to consider fleeing most of the time when things got too hairy or chaotic. How chaotic you might ask? Well, so chaotic that most of his dives into the dungeon leave him with no choice but to abandon 35% or more of his earnings in magic stones, item drops, or excelia whenever a "Turf War" erupts.

A Turf War is a conflict between two opposing sides that regularly enter skirmishes within the dungeon. It wasn't conflict between two parties of adventurers nor was it the dungeon spontaneously spawning two groups of different monsters to kill each other. No, these turf wars have spiked constantly in different locations around the dungeon these past few years along with the emergence of a new threat.

The Heartless.

Once those vile black monsters started harassing Orario, the public assumed for the worse that they would be just another threat to put up with along with the dungeon. Except, humanity wasn't the only one who couldn't stand the vile, dark abominations. Any sighting of a Heartless found within the depths of the dungeon would be accompanied by the living dungeon spawning Monster Parties right off the bat to fend off the creatures. For such a drastic response from the murderish hellscape that was the Dungeon, it really informed any spelunking Adventurers how threatening the creatures of darkness were.

Any signs of a Turf War were to be avoided unless the adventurers in questions could handle a Monster Party of Monsters and Heartless battling each other. Bell had borne witness to one of these during his first dungeon visit, and after the Captain and Iris had disposed of both the numerous brawling monsters and Heartless, he decided to steer clear of them. Sure, he wanted to really improve himself, but he knew when to pick his fights.

So, whenever he's in the middle of picking up magic stones and drop items from monsters that he's slain and a group of Shadow heartless pop up around him along with the violent cracking of the dungeon walls, he'll shamelessly take off running. Not even daring to care about the loot that he drops since not even he could hope to slay both types of creatures at once on his own.

A monster party with manageable numbers? Sure, he can handle it. A stray Heartless (Shadows) that he had to slay after getting backed into a corner despite the difficulty when doing so with his weapon? Pssh, he was more than confident to slay the little buggers. But he wasn't going to test his luck with fighting both sides the current way that he was.

In comparison, going down to the fifth floor was less terrifying than getting mixed up in the dungeon's beef with the Heartless. Though this did leave him and a few other unlucky adventurers a tad empty handed whenever they had to cut their losses and flee.

So, yeah, forgoing Eina's warnings, he continued his downward exploration to the dungeon's next floor. He had learned from Eina what to naturally expect from the floor but remained wary since learning was vastly different to actually experiencing the changes to the floor's terrain, monsters and dungeon activity. That's not even touching the activity of the Heartless where there have been reports that the deeper you go into the dungeon, the more likely you'll run into larger and stronger swarms of them.

The reasoning behind this confused Bell since the Heartless are an independent factor in the Dungeon and wouldn't exactly line with the Monster difficulties spawned on different floors. However, his Captain answered his query by elaborating on the nature of the Heartless as they were beings who lusted for the darkness found in Hearts. The Dungeon was a place that naturally rejected humanity and pushed out as many monsters as it could to exterminate the intruders, which are renowned as Adventurers.

His Captain further emphasized the common tragedies that's sadly bound to happen in the godforsaken place: Death, Betrayal, Greed, Rage, Hopelessness, Apathy, Depression. These emotions and many more lead one's heart to darkness, and the man had said that darkness in one's heart is natural and shouldn't be rejected, but the Heartless will be lured by it and seek it out to eventually devour the recipient's heart.

The negatives emotions of an adventurer are bound to exponentially grow with each new floor and with that more Heartless will appear. The more that appear, the more that new types are bound to show up and create more havoc. With new types of Heartless wrecking everything, the Dungeon will be forced to spawn more stronger monsters to combat them. Then with new Monsters pushing/wiping them out, the Heartless will only further their emergences on the lower floors with stronger Heartless types to push back the dungeon and devour the hearts of struggling higher leveled adventurers.

His captain had described it as a vicious cycle. The dungeon will continue to push back the Heartless and the Heartless will restlessly continue their advance in the dungeon. To the boy it felt like the fabled dungeon of death and destruction was only amplified by the appearance of the Heartless.

Then Bell had asked his Captain another question by noticing the odd use of the word "advance" in the man's explanation: "What are the Heartless exactly looking for by delving deeper into the dungeon?"

The only answer he got was inconceivable mumbles with the only words that he could pick out were "Since it's shown signs of life…" and "Its disdain for humanity aside it could be fully developed enough to have a…" but before his Captain could continue, he immediately pushed Bell to study one of the many textbooks that he had written on the Heartless' behavior and activity in the dungeon.

He honestly liked that he was asking questions but was disgruntled that he wasn't doing enough research on his own with all the provided resources (books and quizzes) given to him. So, basically, he wanted him to be less dependent on getting answers from him and learn to get them himself.

Him going through the fifth floor was an exemplary way of looking for answers on what to expect from it too, so it could definitely justify for disobeying the warnings of his advisor. Yep, there was no way that he should feel bad for this…(*Guilt rising*)

The floor itself was a nice change from the first four floor's drab light blue walls that he's gotten to grow sick of the following past four weeks. The fifth floor's interior was a light shade of green with a noticeably different structure than the floors before it. The monsters that appeared were certainly a bit stronger than the one's on the upper floor, but he's only decided to fight a few lest something unexpected reared its ugly head in the form of a Heartless.

He was in new territory, so he couldn't just run about like the upper four floors, he needed to be vigilant. Nonetheless, even though he's essentially on a new floor with loads of things waiting to kill him, he still couldn't shake the sense of excitement welling up within his chest. The sensation of going off into the unknown was such breath of fresh air. Was this what it normally felt for heroes and explorers to brave the unknown? He bitterly laughed to himself about how Eina would discourage such a thought, but just the rush of it all made it so hard to resist.

All of this new euphoria that crashed against Bell was anticlimactically cut off when a pack of unruly adventurers nearly trampled him by their panicked running. Shaking his head after the violent tumble, Bell regained his bearings and tried loudly asking the adventurers why they were fleeing. The only response that he received from the group steadily disappearing down the halls of the dungeon were to simply "Get the fuck out of here while he still could".

There was one more disgruntled response that sounded like it wasn't meant for him as one of them passively asked where some little runt was but was flagged down by who seemed to be the leader of the party to just forget about them and worry about preserving their own more important lives.

Patting the dirt off his pants as he stood, Bell quirked a worried eyebrow in the direction that they retreated too. Just what was it that scared a whole party of adventurers? On the upper floors its less likely for groups to really get overwhelmed especially so close to the upper four floors.

Horrified shrieking followed by the murderous roar of some unholy beast echoed throughout the dungeon halls. Ask and you shall receive, he gulped as he could feel the ground beneath him lightly tremor despite how far the source's roaring was. In fact, he's not fully sure if the ground was tremoring or if its just him since he was quite literally shaking from the violent roar. Connecting the dots, he figured that whatever pushed those adventurers to run was probably down the path ahead of him.

Now the obvious thing to do at that point was to get the heck out of there. Good thing his legs were already carrying him with all the speed that his impressive Agility stats provided for him; too bad that it was carrying him in the exact direction of the bestial roar.

Who was it that screamed? What made whoever it was scream? Why exactly was he going to see what had a whole party of Adventurers turn tail and run!?

The only sane thing that he was doing at this point was let these thoughts flood his mind. As he crossed the end of the hallway leading into another cavernous room of the dungeon, the side of his vision picked up something BIG. He had to silence the growing fearful yelp creeping up his throat as he put every fiber of his being to leap back into the hallway from where he came. His movements were stiff, and he made sure not to fall over lest it attracted its attention.

Back to the wall of the hallway, he stiffly pressed himself against it as he took silent, heavy breaths to calm his beating heart. What he saw should have been an impossibility, no, a rarity up on the upper floors.

The unrestrained sounds of exhaling breath filled the air as what stood meters tall just past corner of the hallway that he hid in was a hulking brown furred Minotaur! A monster that at best should be on the Middle floors.

He gulped as sweat poured from every pore on his body from just being so close in range to a Level 2 Monster that could pop his Level 1 head like a balloon. All of his senses were telling him to RUN AWAY, something he's unthinkably willing to do, but just before he could take that first step to just bolt out of the dungeon in a vain attempt to pass up the adventurers that had a head start on him…

"H-Help…"

*ROOOOOOOOOOOAR!*

What followed a plea for help was the Minotaur's deafening roar.

…When he backed up into the hallway, he never got a good look at anything besides the massive muscle-bound bull monster that stood in the room. He hadn't considered the forethought to examine the room that they were in, in its entirety because the Level 2 monster aside, he had found the source of the roar, but not the scream.

Peeking past the corner of the hallway, his eyes widened and found on their bum was a crying and quivering little werewolf child clutching the remains of a massive backpack with its contents strewn all over the dungeon floor. The white and red hood that they wore obscured most of their facial features, but he could make out their silver hair and the iconic canine ears that topped their heads.

Their screams bounced off the walls with the resulting Minotaur's roar creating a bone chilling staccato of misery and fear. They were going to die, the minotaur was slowly encroaching on its prey, who was too frightened to even consider fleeing. With such an easy target, it didn't even have to exert much of its strength; just a swing of its hand and could lop the head of the poor werewolf off their shoulders.

That could've been me, he thought.

Bell gulped as he thought back to the common phrase that most adventurers heeded. In the dungeon, anything could happen. No matter the Level, all lives that enter the dungeon were equally left as forfeit to the horrors that it wrought.

Every fiber in Bell was telling him to run away! So far, his adventure to the fifth floor has gone so well, he didn't meet a gruesome fate, and he's been lucky enough not to run into Minotaur (unlike the poor werewolf in front of him). He still had a chance to run away and return back to the safety of his new home.

His goddess would be there welcome him back with same motherly warmth that he's never willing to ever forget; Iris would be giving a harsh scolding after he spilled the beans about his little adventure but would also prepare a hearty meal and a reassuring pat on the head to relieve him of the stress of nearly perishing with that sisterly smile of hers; Karen…he honestly didn't know how she'd react, but he hopes that if possible, she would look just as concerned as everyone else.

Above all, the Captain…he wouldn't know how the man would react to his actions. The best thing that he could envision from the man that saved his life and inspired him to be a hero just like was relief. Relief and…disappointment…?

No, the feeling disappointment at Bell was coming from himself because while he's been standing here envisioning those who would be saddened if he died, he was denying the werewolf about to be pounded into a bloody mulch the same right by solely focusing on himself. He couldn't be unfair and selfishly say that he was the only one to have people to return to; people, who would be devastated by his death.

The werewolf has just as much a right to live as he did and return home to their Familia too. But that left Bell at a crossroads. He knew that he couldn't beat the Minotaur, his training might have prepared him for the upper floors, but he was no way near capable enough to handle a monster that give even Level 2s a run for their money.

Stumped between either running or facing an untimely death at the hands of the beast, Bell's conscience and his will to live raged on within his psyche. Reason and logic were close to winning out as his subconscious kept yelling at him to flee until…

He looked past the corner of the hallway again for the second time, and through some weird work of fate, the eyes of the whimpering Werewolf met his own and with their face now viewable in his direction, he was able to discern their soft features and identify them as a girl.

Now with this reveal, that would have naturally led Bell to try and heroically rescue the girl like one of the fairytales that his grandfather read to him. But, no, that was the last thing on his mind when their eyes met. Those gold orbs of hers were glossy and died with sheer fear. Just from that single look alone, he translated the single word that she's been desperately screaming. A word that besides his own, reached no other ears.

A word that just from that look alone was a pure desperate plead.

HELP

…

Everything was blur. He felt a sense of déjà vu that he likened to the night where he helped that Chienthrope girl from being devoured by the Heartless. Any sense of self preservation was flushed out of him as only one thing remained on his mind. Helping someone.

With a cracked roar (curse you puberty!) that received the attention of the Minotaur and a startled, surprised look from the small Werewolf, he took off his pack containing all of the magic stones that he accrued for the day, slung the strap into hand, swung his arm back, and with all his strength nailed it into the eye of the blood thirsty Minotaur.

He in fact wasn't aiming for the eye but got very lucky. Trouble was his luck never ran for long since now the Minotaur was charging after him, outraged from the pain that its semi-damaged eye received. Even with the monster on his tail, his sense of self preservation was still out of his system as he roared for the now gaping mouthed Werewolf to run while she still could.

He heard her scream something to him, but he couldn't exactly pick out what she was saying based on account to the fact that a FREAKING MINOTAUR WAS CHASING HIM!

It was at that moment that Bell realized the severity of the situation and focused on escaping the powerful clutches of the Bull-headed monster tearing apart the dungeon just to get to him. If there was one thing that Bell naturally prided himself it had to be his AGILITY stat as it was the only thing that kept him from being massive puddle of blood, broken bones and sundered flesh on the ground.

The chase had been going for…heck, he didn't at this point since he's putting his all into surviving.

Which brings everything back to the present…

*ROOOOOOOOOOOOAR!*

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" The boy screamed an octave higher that almost sounded effeminate. Coughing, he quickly covers this up and purposely screams a bit deeper in hopes that anyone (hopefully no one) would hear his girlish screams.

'I can't shake it off!' He panicked and gasped as a shadow formed above him.

*SLAAAAAAM!*

If he were any slower with that sidestep, he'd have been nailed into the floor by the Minotaur's massive meaty hands. His Agility might give him a small edge in fleeing but not even his endurance can keep up with the relentless Minotaur in pursuit of him.

There were even instances to where he could pawn the Monster off on a few Shadow Heartless that inconveniently spawned ahead of him, but even their lesser numbers were powerless under the might of the Minotaur. The shadowy creatures were run over, had their heads crushed in the beast's huge hands, and shoulder checked plus flattened by it.

There was no stopping the beast from averting its attention from the true target of its wrath: him.

That was when he remembered one of Eina's lessons about memorizing the mappings of the dungeon's floors. Yeah, after getting those torturous lessons beaten into him, he's confident to say that he could shake of the Minotaur by losing him at a crossroads. Looking at the hallway formations around him, he deduced that one was coming up as soon as he made a right at this oncoming corner. When he gets out of here, he's never going to whine to the Half-Elf about the endless tides of homework that she assigns to him again.

*Skiiiiiiiid~!*

…

"No…no…no, no, no, nononono!" Sad for him that he misjudged how different it was to navigate the fifth floors in comparison to the upper four floors. He was now at a dead with an expansive wall mocking his futile attempts of escape ahead of him…

*GROOOOOOOOA!*

…and a ravenous Minotaur hellbent on killing him behind him.

Shakily turning back to face the monster, Bell drew his longsword for what was definitely going to be the last time and aimed it at the beast, devoid of any confidence. The monster aggressively took this gesture as a show of defiance and angrily threw its fist at the boy to flatten him.

"Nguh!" Bell flinched, expecting his life to at that moment but opened open to notice that the Minotaur had missed his head by a couple of feet. His legs almost gave up on him, he was that close to dying.

Was it really going to end for him?

His new life after finally getting the guts to leave home after his grandfather passed on?

It was inevitable that he was going to die, but he couldn't help but despair that he was essentially going to sadden everyone, who's been working to get him to the starting line of being a true adventurer.

Sure, he had found solace that he could at least save one life, but he just hated feeling that he wasted everyone's efforts. Here he was about to die a stereotypical death like every adventurer before him just before he could accomplish becoming a real hero.

Again, a conflict bloomed within him, between despair and outrage, he stood still as the Minotaur wound its arm back to attempt a more accurate hit to kill him. The force of wind that the incoming punch exerted blew his white hair back as he blankly looked at his impending doom in frozen fear.

Just what could he possibly do?

FIGHT!

"…!" The boy gasped as his body jerked out of the way of the incoming fist, which obliterated part of the wall behind him. Dust and debris gathered in the air as Bell looked at his arms in bewilderment. No, he looked at the blade that hands were gripping that whitened his knuckles.

A force had moved him away from the immediate danger before it had struck him. His body had already locked in place, so he questioned just what exactly moved him. And that voice, if he could even call it that. There was no sound, but he understood the driving words that were spoken(?) so clearly.

Fight.

He looked at the Minotaur angrily shaking its bruised hand from the punch it through, perhaps it had thrown its entire body into the blow, but it still did little to hinder it's rage as its bloody red eyes were still trained on him. He, a kid, who's still a greenhorn Level 1 adventurer; a kid who all intents and purposes was outclassed and was always getting hung with his own emotions to clearly pick a choice or make a choice.

Fight.

"Don't forget…"

He remembered the guiding voice from his dream that urged him onward…

Fight.

"I'm afraid of being…indecisive. To not be able to contribute anything or save someone. If I delay myself by always be doubtful or getting worked up about not always picking the best move in a situation, I'm forced to face with the undeniable fact that I'm…weak…"

One of the three answers that laid bare one of his deepest fear. A needed reminder to kick him into action.

Fight!

Brown boots found themselves with their soles firmly planted to the ground. A gloved hand tightened its gripping on the shaking(?) black bladed longsword. A pair of shoulders visibly tense as red eyes harden and slowly dilate as they begin to glare into the murderous Minotaur's own pair. The air of dread was replaced and filled with heated tension between the boy and the monster.

The heated breaths of the Minotaur escaped the cracks of his teeth like steam as the knuckles to its fists cracked from the strain of its own strength.

Fight!

Dying? Is that really all that he wanted to think about without even trying? His thoughts then soon brought forth a hazy memory from his dream. A dream where he felled a black titan of Heartless, the details were iffy and he wasn't exactly sure how he did it or if it had any bearing on what he could do in reality, but he would never forget that feeling of rage that burned him.

Even if his death is inevitable, he won't let himself die like this. He still had overcome his indecisiveness, get stronger, and above all else become more worthy enough to be with his Family.

That's why he'll carry this rage with him. Whether it would lead him back to the surface to his family or to his grandfather in the afterlife were irrelevant because right now Bell Cranel was about to turn his back on the well-intentioned warnings of his Guild Advisor.

He was about to go on his first adventure!

FIGHT! / "FIGHT!"/ FIGHT!

A trio of voices shouted in his very psyche. One was his own, the other was the voiceless one and the last one was…the voice from his dream? No, it didn't matter right now because they all merged in purpose and drove him to meet the Level 2 monster head on!

At once both the boy and Minotaur lunged at each other with the boy's blade aimed to lunge into the monster, and the monster's huge fist reeled back to demolish the boy's weaker form.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

*ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAR!*

His long sword might have held the longer reach, but it wouldn't be able to plunge itself much deeper if he was flattened by the incoming fist before then. So, Bell decided to utilize one of the secret techniques that the Captain urged him to learn diligently. A lesson for a technique that at first made him excited and later puzzled him since apart from the sword training it was rather underwhelming.

The technique known as…

*SWOOOOSH!*

Dodge Roll.

Just narrowly missing the punch, Bell had managed to not only avoid getting creamed but also getting past the Minotaur, so he no longer had his back to the wall. Now the Minotaur's back to him, and he wasn't going to just let an opportunity like that go untaken.

He had heard that weapons given by the guild for beginners were as useful as toothpicks against Monsters from deeper floors, so it came as no surprise why he was shocked to see that three mighty swings of his long sword left heavy red scarring across the beast's back. Each cut was in no way strong enough to leave a deep cut to draw as much blood, but the damage it still did was still earth moving for the boy.

'I can actually hurt it?' He thoughts of wonder were interrupted as the Minotaur in an irritant fashion wildly swung his arms back and with its strength alone summoned a pressure of wind that nearly overwhelmed him and threw him back a couple of feet.

Gaining his bearings, he was able to land on his feet, but this momentary lapse of a breather was undercut by the Minotaur already using those few seconds to crouch down, hammer its fists into the ground, lower its head, and aim those long horns of his directly at him.

'This won't be good…' Bell gulped and staggered back as he noticed veins popping up all over the Minotaur's muscles. 'This definitely won't be good.'

He didn't need to see anymore signs of an incoming bull rush to know that running was an apt choice to take. His feet carried him as far as he could, but once the entire dungeon around him began to shake along with the fast paced thuds of the beast's footsteps rapidly catching up to him, the hallway they were in was almost coming to an end as a Room lied ahead of him, and the horns of a quickly approaching Minotaur were behind him.

Bell only had a single thought as he was mere seconds away from facing a gruesome death by impalement.

'Dodge Roll please don't fail me now!'

He took a roll of faith!

…

…

…

*CRAAAAAAAAAAAASH!*

"Guuuuuuuuuuuah!"

"-!"

"The hell!?"

*THUUUUD!*

The whole world was spinning as Bell limply slid down the wall of the room that the Minotaur had flung him through. His dodge roll had worked to help him avoid getting skewered, but it left him open for one of the Minotaur's arms to barely backhand him into the upcoming room. It took all of the boy's efforts to try and suck in as much oxygen as he could, though the Minotaur had only grazed him, the sheer force still knocked all the air out of his lungs.

His eyes stung not from sweat but blood. He really must have hit head when he was flung at the wall. The echoed clattering of metal reached his ears and he noticed how light his achingly burning chest felt.

He hazarded a guess that it was his guild issued light armor. It honestly was no surprise to him that it would crumble the under the might of a Level 2 monster, but it do its job because if it weren't for its (low grade) protection, he probably wouldn't be conscious and still breathing at this point.

That just went to show how outclassed he was against the beast. He was still a spritely Level 1 adventurer that just barely (unofficially) reached the fifth floor and that fact was cold hard reality beating him over the head. Still it did nothing to deter him from facing the enemy.

He couldn't run away so fighting was the only option he had if he wanted to live. Stabbing the tip of his long sword into the ground, he began his shaky ascent back onto his feet while finally earning his first gasp of sweet oxygen.

Huh? Are those voices? His mind was still rattled from the hit that he couldn't clearly see two dizzy figures standing in front of him and facing…the Minotaur!

"-is, leave this to me! If you want; go back and make sure that weakling hasn't kicked the bucket yet!"

"…Hm!"

Two voices, one a male while the other was a female. No, if there are more adventurers hanging around then they would surely get harmed like that Werewolf girl! Groaning to himself, he got back up onto his feet and paid no mind to the rapid footsteps approaching him, but he did pause once he felt that a hand was placed on his shoulder.

"…Everything will be okay. Rest. We can handle this." Though the soft words were clearly meant to comfort him, it did little to quell his desire to keep going. A part of him was tempted to just cool his head and glance at the owner of the feminine voice, they spoke in a monotone voice that reminded him of Karen, but he just couldn't leave this matter in the hands of other adventurers.

He'd feel like he'd be forcing a Pass Parade off on them. Sure, he wouldn't have to worry about dying if he just left it up to these two, who may or may not have the power to stop the monster. But it was still his responsibility.

His fight.

A hero is supposed to be someone, who saves the day! Not get themselves saved!

A hero's someone who's very presence brings relief and hope.

The memory of a gallant man dressed in armor and wielding a strange blade flashed in his mind and further lit the burgeoning flame in his heart.

"…Hey…" He heard the monotone voice call out from behind him.

His eyes fell on the Minotaur ahead of him and met its red murderous glare with his own.

Everything hurt but his body still moved on its own towards his foe.

"Oi, weakling! What the fuck are y-!?"

He passed the next figure, who was the man but paid him no mind like the girl before. There was a monster that needed slaying and people who (may or may not) need saving!

Silence. The only thing that came close to breaking it were the heated, enraged breaths from the monster in the room.

Bell's sword arm shivered. Was it that same force from before or could it be that it was his nerves? Fear? Anger? Excitement? He didn't know what could be the reason for the sword shaking in his grip but the one thing that mattered to him right now was using to fell the goliath of a monster in front of him.

The Minotaur made the first move with a charge and cocked back fist.

Too fast, he thought as he put every ounce of energy in dodging the blow. He was grateful that the beast over pursued him since its fist narrowly missed him as he side jumped over to its vulnerable side and hacked his blade at its torso.

That made it even angrier than before as it wildly stamped about the swung its horned head right at him. It was too fast! Bending his knees, the Level 1 adventurer leant back and avoided the debilitating blow.

"Guh!" His body strained and forced him to fall flat on his back.

*ROOOOOOOAR!*

"…!" He gasped. Another massive fist was being swung to hammer him into the ground. Kicking his legs up, he pushed himself back on his feet by a backflip and watched as the Minotaur's attack picked up a small cloud of dust hindering its view on him.

Perfect!

Kicking off the ground, Bell charged in with his long sword thrusted out, aiming for the bull's lowered head. If the rest of the body was covered in pure muscle, then the head obviously was the less fortified and most vulnerable part of its body.

This would have worked had it not been for the Minotaur jerking its head to catch the blade with one of its horns. Bell had tightened his grip on his blade as the force and clash of his blade against the thick black horns had weakened the strength of his hand's grip.

The Bull had no trouble claiming better ground with each push of its head forcing the boy to skid back. Bell had panicked when he started to hear the sound of cracking on his blade once the Bull had enough and threw its entire body into sending him flying.

The world once again became a mess of dizzying colors to his eyes (thanks to his bleeding head) as his body found itself violently slamming into the ground…no, wait, why was he falling again?

*THUD!* *CHNK!*

A-Ah, so he actually hit the dungeon's ceiling…good to know…

The joints and muscles of his body creaked louder than before, telling him to stop moving. But he couldn't, he wasn't going to stop. His body would get nothing from being at odds with his mind. He had to see this fight through to the end.

CAN'T BREAK! PROMISE! CAN'T BREAK!

That voiceless voice again. He looked over to his shaking long sword, which should have been broken from all of the unnerving cracks of metal that heard earlier. Yet the black blade stood tall while stabbed in the ground beside him.

He had no clue what was going on with the blade that his Captain gave to him, but the urge to grab it and continuing to fight the impossible battle grew. It might have been his imagination running wild from all the blood loss and his growing head trauma, but something told him that it refused to allow itself to break under the stress.

It felt as though some sort of connection was beginning to draw itself between him and the object.

After feeling such (possibly delusional) determination from the blade, how could he just lie away while it did its best. A deep ache struck at the lower half of his spine that made his efforts to stand on his wobbly legs that more difficult. He staggered over to his blade with gaping breaths for air, the unsteady walk towards it was just as difficult as the fight itself.

Finally reaching the blade, he laid his hands on its pommel and sputtered out his breaths, and some mouthfuls of blood. He blearily glared back at the Minotaur that was strangely glaring passively at him. He didn't question it as its eyes were still filled with killing intent, something his own red eyes shared in terms of viciousness.

Heaving his long sword out of the ground, he limped his way back over to the Minotaur.

"O-Oi…" He heard the male voice uncertainly call out to him.

He didn't bother acknowledging it again. His enemy was right in front of him and that's where his attention needed to focus on. He gasped out for breath as his mind was starting to grow dizzy, getting savagely flung up into the ceiling like a ragdoll was starting to show its affects on his dwindling consciousness.

This fight needed to end…

Whether it be the Minotaur's end or his own.

He will see this through to the end and do what he feels is naturally right for him.

His grip on the handle of the longsword tightened and he gritted his teeth once the Bull monster started scraping its feet against the ground, an indictor of its impending charge.

*ROOOOOOOOOOAR!*

The beast let out a blood curdling roar and stampeded its way at him with its thrown back fist proceeding to obliterate the boy, who's close to keeling over at death's door.

Too fast, he tiredly thought as he struggled to move his body to react. He cursed at himself once his vision started to drearily blur. No, not like this! He can't go out falling unconscious only to soon die. This was supposed to be his first adventure!

His feet wobbled as he staggered back. The Minotaur was almost upon him.

He refuses to die! He still has to fulfill what he set out to do. What his heart led him to do!

"May your heart be your Guiding Key."

"Huh?" His eyes widened, the voice, the one from his dream. Why did it…?

Soon his surroundings were blanketed in an all-encompassing white void. He had no idea whether something was happening in the dungeon or if he was hallucinating while so close to death, but the only thing he could glance from it all was a figure standing in front of him.

The light from the void made it hard to identify…hold on…he remembered something.

Flapping about and wrapped around their neck was a red scarf?

The figure shifted about in place and turned around(?) and looked Bell in the eye.

"…!"

For that instance, crushing exhaustion ebbed away into comforting lightness.

The grip which held his long sword, slightly grew lax as his fingers spun the blade into a backhanded grip.

Once were wobbly legs now firmly planted themselves on the hard ground in a (sudden and odd) well-practiced stance.

Taking a deep breath, the boy's red eyes closed. The white void was gone, the sound of screaming and yelling were heard in the background along with rapid footsteps drawing near him.

The powerful gale that surrounded the massive fist of the Minotaur blew back his hair as it was a mere few inches from his face. Avoiding the hit was impossible due to the extremely close distance between him and the monster.

It had thrown its whole body into its attack.

Death was imminent but the boy remained unfazed. At his own pace, he took a deep inhale through his nose and let it all exhale through his mouth.

His haggard breath became calm and tempered.

And once he'd open his eyes, his body and blade became one in a single instance…

"ZANTESTSUKEN!"

In a flash, red became blue.

XXX (Line Break) XXX

"ZANTESTSUKEN!"

*THUUD!*

Stunned silence.

Ais Wallenstein and Bete Loga, first-class adventurers from the Loki Familia were left speechless. Their panicked rush to eliminate the packs of Minotaur emerging from the Middle Floors and endangering the lower level adventurers were dashed at the sight that laid before them.

*URAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!*

Blood splattered and stained most of the room's center as a pained, roar from the Minotaur gripping the stump of its bisected arm, which laid uselessly near the motionless and minotaur blood covered form of the low class adventurer that the two were rushing in to save.

Neither the Sword Princess (Kenki) nor Vanagrand could believe what they just witnessed. The white-haired boy that they found pitifully clinging to life after barely surviving a hit from the monster just severed its forearm in a single stroke of his sword.

So many emotions swirled in both of them as they bore witness to the adventurer fighting a hopeless battle, one that to their surprise and chagrin was a battle that he willingly engaged.

To Bete, he certainly wasn't in a rush to interfere at first. When he saw the kid shoot out the hallway like a fucking shooting star and crumple up like wimp, he paid him no mind. It wasn't farfetched for him to think this way considering they were on the upper floors that were inhabited by a bunch of weak, no-name Level 1 adventurers.

So, he left him with the golden-haired swordsman of his Familia to tend to the bloodied wimp since the Minotaur held more precedent than providing aid to some nameless chump.

However, his first impression began to change (but only by a tiny fraction!) when the kid actually pushed Ais and him (yes, him of all people!) aside to face the reeking Minotaur. A bit of himself laughed at the sudden display of audacity at the pipsqueak futilely facing a Monster way above his weight class, but apart of him felt a smidge (a tiny smidge!) of respect for him.

Now obviously the result of the kid clashing with the ugly creature sent him flying and hitting the ceiling of the Dungeon floor, which was pretty high mind you. The force of the blow alone shook the ceiling and as the boy fell to the ground in bloody heap that was when he deemed it time to step in. He wasn't in the mood to watch a weakling get tossed about, he and Ais actually had a job to do by clearing these pesky bull-headed freaks out from the "kiddie" zones of the dungeon and return to aid their expedition groups below.

Their whole exploration to the 59th floor of the dungeon was a complete bust when those New types started crawling out of the woodwork to mess with their shit. And when shit hits the fan, then those fucking creepy things called the Heartless (god was that name to be so stupid) start appearing and making things worse.

Everyone was already exhausted putting up with those odd new monsters on the lower floors and the constant tides of Heartless during the whole ascent upwards, so the group as a whole needed all the help that they could get. Because if he has to hear that flat-chested Amazon whine to the captain about letting a certain someone tag along for an expedition for the fiftieth time, he was going to flip his shit!

Tch! Even thinking about the bastard put him in a bad mood. A mood that was struck with shock as the broken weakling was back to picking himself up after getting wrecked beyond compare. The kid looked like absolute shit, blood was everywhere (especially all over his face), his legs were wobbling, his breathing was getting shallow, and his red eyes looked heavily unfocused.

Yet when he looked closer at those eyes, he noticed that the weakling still hasn't "died" yet. There was barely able to stand and looking like crap, but he still got up. To further add to his confusion (and growing rage) was the fact that despite all the above this low leveled punk was actually able to do damage to a Level 2 monster!

What the hell!? How could that even be possible? His earlier attacks did jack shit then suddenly he could use that stupid sword and pull off whatever the hell he did? In fact, no, he wasn't even mad about that because that technique seemed too familiar to him. The sheer speed that the kid displayed with that strike it was far cry from ever matching his speed, but that kind of speed still made no sense for a low-class adventurer to have!

It reminded him of that asshole! That technique, the stubborn way that he carried himself, and most of all pulling off crazy shit that went beyond the norm that have been established for adventurers everywhere!

Just the thought of imagining that guy's stupid smiling mug pissed the Werewolf off to new bounds. His score has yet to be settled and getting reminded of it through watching some random weakling dampened his overall lightened mood by finally being alone with Ai-he meant alone and away from the annoying bastards from the expedition and take his stress out on these Minotaur…being alone with Ais wasn't an unpleasant bonus.

Despite his anger though, like Ais, Bete still looked on with his feet planted to the ground. The sight in front of them just drew all of his attention, and he couldn't figure out why.

"Just what the fuck is this…?" He lowly muttered, his hands balled up into fists. His nails dug into his palms that they almost drew blood.

His thoughts were shared with his swordswoman companion, Ais, though with significantly less profanity. Though her stoic expression made it hard to identify any emotion, those who looked closer would find that the 16-year-old Level 5 adventurer was severely conflicted with what she just saw.

A Level 1, she assumed, was facing against a Minotaur and actually did it damage? The moment that the boy was flung into the wall through the hallway, she immediately worried for him. His condition was terrible. All of his armor was destroyed, his eyes looked unfocused, and all of the blood stream down his face spoke volumes of the sheer damage that he took from the mid-floor monster. All she could do was provide him some comfort and apply an extra potion that she carries to heal him as a means of apologizing for her Familia's hand in the entire mess.

But before she could treat him, the boy wordlessly stood back up onto his shaky legs and walked right over to the Minotaur with no hesitation in each of his steps. Concerned, Ais rushed over to stop but only got so far as to touch his shoulder before freezing in place once she got a look at his face.

Through the bruises and all of the blood, she made how fierce and determined his red eyes looked. A look that she's been more than acquainted with whenever she looked at herself in the mirror. However, unlike the darkness that roared from the black flames that lit behind her gold eyes; the boy's red eyes gleamed a pure radiance even while his visage was masked with gritted tenacity.

This and the moment that she saw his hunched back try to stand up tall as he continued making his way over to the Minotaur was what made her falter.

He stood no chance, that's what she thought. Even she had to acknowledge reality and notice that the Adventurer standing before her was still a complete novice, who's barely touched ground in this infernal dungeon. That knowledge alone should have been reason enough for her to restrain the boy and be swift with the Minotaur's extermination.

But watching that boy's back gave her pause as he strode towards the Monster, who was in every right superior to him in overall power, with such purpose. The sight of it brought to mind the backs of two others that have forever been ingrained in her mind.

"Stay there, Ais." The back of a heroic man, who she desperately missed, that fought and scarred an accursed winged black beast that she's vowed to slay. A man, who for a single eye, lost his life and became a legend.

"Looks like you've got yourself an infestation of Invisibles! Stay back and leave it to me!" The back of a strange man, who by all means and purposes was an enigma to the society of Orario two years ago, stood defiantly in face of countless demonic-humanoid creatures of darkness, who were giving her a Level 5 a rough time. A man, who's light shined brighter than the stars themselves, and possessed an odd sort of strength that she yearned for.

Like the two before her, she once again watched the back of the boy finally engage the Minotaur. She couldn't avert her gaze not even when was tossed about and sent hurtling into the dungeon's ceiling. For a moment, she dared to interfere and put down the Minotaur, but the white-haired boy just got back up onto his feet.

The blow should have put him down for good as it shows since he barely had the energy to stand much less walk. She surmised that the impact of being thrown at the wall from earlier and the currently the ceiling must have severely damaged his spine.

At any point, she wouldn't have put it past him to cry for their help (she even wondered if he knew that they were there), but he didn't. That look in his eyes still burned bright with that white light of his.

So long was she observing the boy that she finally deemed to keep an eye on the Minotaur that was oddly standing in place instead of recklessly charging in to murder the adventurer like so many others. She took a closer look as its face. Those murderous red eyes remained the same and squarely on the audacious boy, but its snout, its constantly gritted teeth of unrestrained rage.

Its lips, they were quirked up. If one really looked at it and had a very colorful imagination, it would look as though the monster was…smiling?

No. Ais shook even the notion off. Denying it with fiber of her being.

A monster was a Monster. There was no way these horrid beasts hellbent on eradicating mankind could ever express true emotion.

The Minotaur soon gave charge to the boy, every muscle in its body pulsating as it threw its entire form into delivering a punch so brutal that the Level 1 adventurer would become a bloody smear on the floor if he didn't react. Which was what he did, he paused, closed his eyes, and stood there.

Both she and Bete screamed at the boy before immediately bolting to halt the Minotaur's attack and finally put an end to this madness.

Unfortunately for them, the madness only escalated once the boy shouted something vaguely familiar before in an impressive flash of speed, separated the arm of the Minotaur's throw punch clean off its body!

Ais was speechless. Until now the boy was predictably getting trampled on, his courage and heart were admirable, but that still amounted to nothing against a stronger opponent.

So how…how was suddenly so strong to accomplish that, she thought. Was it a skill? Did he have some sort of secret that gave him power at the last minute? C-Could she be able to learn how to do it, too, and finally get a step closer to DESTROYING THAT-*AHEM!* To say that she was shocked would be an understatement.

That's why she put all of her attention on the boy, finding any signs of change that might indicate notable signs of this skill. Mostly, she observed him out of worry and relief that he didn't die.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary save…no, she must have imagined it. She was completely sure that his eyes were red, she must have looked too hard. No, the real notable difference was the boy's expression.

Gone was the fierce and tenacious expression that he once held. Now it was replaced with an excited and even more determined grin as he stiffly turned around to face his foe. As the Minotaur's roar died down, the monster gnashed its teeth angrily and its lips…no, she already denied that implausible possibility.

The boy and monster remained in silence as the two slowly entered their stances once more (the boy taking another low and strained backhanded stance, and the Minotaur taking a much lower stance with its singular hand digging and crushing the floor of the dungeon under its utter power). Both first class adventurers remained speechless at the boy's impressive stamina to even consider continuing, but since he's shown that he's capable of actually doing harm to the Minotaur, they didn't have much to worry about (which was still a substantial amount).

The earth crumbled beneath the feet of the Minotaur as it savagely set its eyes on the boy and charged at him with the same breakneck speeds that costed it it's arm. Such a mindless tactic that's to be expected from a monster, and an easy pattern for the boy to obviously recognize and take advantage of.

*THUUD!*

"What?"

"The shit!?"

Falling flat on his face with that smile plastered on his face, the boy's body finally quit on him. The two adventurers cursed at themselves for getting too into the fight and their own thoughts to remember that this was still a greenhorn adventurer facing a dangerous Level 2 monster!

The Minotaur was not stopping and at the rate of its wild charge, it would either kill the boy with a mighty punch or violently trample him to death. Neither option was one that Ais, and surprisingly Bete wanted to take or watch.

So, she immediately equipped herself with her trusted Durandal attributed blade, Desperate, and joined Bete in intercepting the Monster before it was too la-!

"FIIIRE!"

*FWOOOOOOOOSH!*

Three large balls of flames followed by a raging scream erupted from one of the many hallways leading to the room and engulfed the screeching Minotaur that was a mere five feet away from ending the boy's life. Soon a shadow zipped into the room and with a swing of its strangely shaped blade, the Minotaur was sent hurtling and crashing in the opposite wall of the room.

The force of the blow seemed to have dazed it as it slumped down and remained unconscious.

The pair looked at the monster in shock, then to the new arrival, who arrived at the nick of time to save the day.

*TICK!*

'Her…' / 'Her…'

Annoyed twitches of the eyebrow indicated the actual moods on the expressionless visages of both Ais and the new addition to the madness, Karen. Gold eyes met Silver eyes in a tense staredown. Sparks clashed between them as their "hostility" for each other rose.

Bete who was the other party outside of this scene was bristling in annoyance for another reason.

"Oi, you! Aren't you a part of that key bastard's Familia? What the hell are you doi-?" He was cut off by the raven-haired girl immediately forgoing her staredown (for now) with Ais to rush to the fallen Bell's side. Bete's eyes widened as his anger only grew from being brushed off and would have chewed the girl out were it not for the recovering Minotaur, who they've momentarily forgot about, resumed its rampant charge after the fallen kid.

*ZAAN!* *ZAAAAAN!* *ZAAAAAN!*

Too bad it didn't get the chance to even get within reach of the boy since Orario's famous, Sword Princess made quick work of eviscerating the monster into bloody gory chunks. Nothing was keeping the first-class adventurers from eliminating it now that the creature's foe was unconscious.

Speaking of the monster's foe…

The pair turned back to a frantic looking Karen tending to the unconscious boy. The way her arms moved about without touching his battered form was reminiscent of a meek child trying to pet some random dog on the street. Getting over herself, the girl immediately pressed her ear to his chest and let out a sigh of relief.

He was still alive and breathing.

She moved to grab something from her pocket but berated herself for forgetting that she gave the rest of her potions away to the injured Ganesha adventurers. The only thing she carried with her was the still warm Jagamarukun that her Master gave to her.

Her cheeks flushed red. He was so kind sometimes…

No! She shook her head. She still had to worry about Bell and tend to him like a good senior should. For a moment she looked to Bell and back to her Jagamarukun with a frown of conflict. After a minute of heavy contemplation, she broke the snack in half and stuffed part of it into Bell's mouth, making for quite a weird (and hilarious) sight.

The boy's cheeks were expanded, and his mouth remained unmoving. Which was good since he'd choke on the fried delicacy, a detail that went unnoticed by Karen, who only breathed out and puff breath from her nose and proudly put her hands to her hips.

Grappling her unconscious Familia member up and over her shoulder, she prepared her ascent back to the surface and to the Guild. Master would handle treating his wounds, the only two magics that she knew mostly offensive.

"Oi, isn't it rude to ignore people who're right front of you!" The sound of a seething growl caught her attention.

Right…she forgot…

Karen turned around to face the two executives of the Loki Familia, a familia, who's goddess was at odds with her own. It was nothing too serious, but the two just could never get along. One of them was Bete Loga, known as the Vanagrand, a Werewolf, who's incredible speed was only matched by his terrible attitude.

This wasn't the first time that they've met and if the constant provoking challenges that he sends to her Master were anything to go by, this meeting would unfortunately not be the last. She didn't really have much to say to the man, she didn't have a real good impression of him and he didn't leave that much of a bad impression on her either, but his poor attitude did push her closer to the latter impression.

There was this one time that he called her an "Ais Wannabe" and to say that made her beyond bitter would be underselling things. So, she simply decided to stick with indifference since she didn't want to take long, plus, she wasn't in the mood for socializing (something she's still working on) with a difficult Werewolf.

"Sorry. Bye." She bowed her head to the Werewolf and went on her wa-

"Hold it!"

Karen's eyes twitched, she really wanted to leave and take care of Bell. Not to mention get away her of all people that she's been trying her best not address the other party in the room.

Walking over to stand in her path, Bete's thuggish amber eyes intimidatingly bore into Karen with little effect as the girl impassively stared back at him.

"So…" His eyes trailed from her to the conked out Bell on her back. "Since you're here to pick that kid up, then must be another one of that bastard's kids like you, is that right?"

Karen's irritation grew at the rude naming of her master but kept her stoic disposition. "Yes, he is apart of the Hestia Familia."

"Tch!" The Werewolf annoyingly clicked his tongue.

"…If that's all then-"

"Then how come he wasn't swinging one of those stupid swords that you lot carry with you?"

"That's a personal matter for the Hestia Familia. Don't worry about it." She narrowed her eyes.

"Eh? You trying to tell me what to do?"

"Negative. I'm telling you what not to do, Loga-san." Karen gave her literal answer with a tilt of her head.

"…"

"…"

The two engaged in a tense staredown before the cries of an energetic voice echoed out from one of the many hallways leading to the room.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeey! Ais! We just finished clearing the lower floors! Is everything okay up there!? Is Bete messing things up, up there!?"

"…Tch! Stupid woman…" He begrudgingly broke the staredown to shoot one of the hallways an annoyed look before quickly glaring at Karen, who impassively (yet intensely) kept her eyes trained on him. Spinning on his heel, he stomped his way out of the room with his hands stuffed into his pockets. "C'mon, Ais, lets go regroup with the others…" He grumbled.

Just before he vanished into the darkness of the hallway, he turned his head in Karen's direction and growled. "Just tell that bastard captain of yours to get ready because since we're back, I'm going to find and completely murder his ass."

Tell him yourself, Karen thought to herself, she didn't want to poke the hornet's nest now that he was actually leaving.

This did leave her with another issue that she wanted to avoid lest she engage in another staredown.

Ais Wallenstein, she still stood with her in the room. She couldn't feel her gaze on her as the two have been stubbornly avoiding eye contact. The feeling of irritation still remaining from being in each other's presence.

Were one to look closer, they'd spot the hints of pouting on both of the girls' lips.

"…"

"…"

Neither spoke a word to the other, still embittered by their past scuffles to put in the effort to interact with each other. No, to be truthful, they were gladly using this silence as an excuse not to communicate with each other like a pair of arguing children.

It wasn't until she pieced together the panic that she saw on her descent to the dungeon did she piece together the unusual appearance of the Minotaur.

"…The Minotaur…your fault?" She quietly asked.

"…Yes…" Ais quietly responded. "We…scared a whole pack during our return from the…lower floors." Karen didn't need to face her to tell by her slightly crestfallen voice that she felt bad about the incident.

To be frank, Karen was a bit annoyed that her Familia member was almost killed by the Minotaur, but figured that there was more to it than just those two watching Bell struggle against the monster for fun. Something must have happened, but she didn't push it.

So…she (much to her annoyance) said, "…Its fine, it was just an accident."

"…" A small moment of silence was followed by the blonde slowly nodding her head. "…I see…okay…"

"Hm…" Karen nodded.

The two still faced away with each other. Their short and quiet responses were apparently carrying more meaning than they initially let on.

A pair of gold eyes fell on the torn in half Jagamarukun in Karen's hand.

*Gruuuuuuumble~!*

"…!"

"…?" For the first time, Karen looked over to Ais, who sharply faced the other way.

She opened her mouth to infer further on the strange action but glanced at her fried potato in realization. She must be hungry, Karen thought. Especially since it was technically the Blonde's favorite snack.

So, she decided to do what felt right.

"Ahem." She coughed into her hand.

"…!?" Ais curiously turned around and widened her eyes at the offered Jagamarukun in the raven-haired girl's hand.

"…Here…" Karen offered with a smile.

"…" A look of disbelief crossed Ais' face but the further urging from Karen did nudge her to reach out for the snack. The blonde was desperately craving for one of her all-time favorite foods this past week or two during their expedition to the 59th floor. It might have been half of a Jagamarukun, and she was hesitant to just trust her to willingly give it away, but a part of Ais felt that the other girl was being genuine.

*CRUNCH!*

The small smile creeping on her face immediately fell once the Jagamarukun was pulled from her reach and stuffed into the treacherous mouth of the black-haired girl, who proudly stared back at her.

"…hmhm~!"

"…Uuuuurh…!"

Karen quietly hummed to herself in victory while Ais shakily clenched her fist and sent her a frustrated look of anger.

Visible only to these two girls were imaginative apparitions of two younger more expressive looking girls wearing white dresses. The black-haired girl was mischievously blowing a raspberry at the pouting and mad blonde-haired girl.

This childish image symbolized the "rocky" relationship these two shared and emphasized how common yet different the two were. Nonetheless, it ironically also was a form of understanding that's only special these two girls alone.

With her "victory" cemented (for now, she'll have to remain vigilant in case she pulls something later), Karen took that as her chance to leave, but apparently fate just loved to keep occupied with annoying interruptions.

"…That boy…"

"…Hm?" Karen turned around to spot the blonde not pointedly looking at her as she was still miffed by the quick betrayal of losing the chance to enjoy her favorite snack.

"…What's his name?" She finally asked. "…And will he also be learning under him like you…?"

Karen tilted her head, she didn't have to answer that question, and felt nothing from choosing to ignore the last bit. Her master did tell her that Bell could undergo the Ritual of Bequeathing, but that was still a matter left private to the Hestia Familia.

So, she shrugged to herself and decided to indulge the blonde with an answer.

"His name…"

Karen paused as Ais slowly turned to face her, looking at the tired boy so she could put the new name to a face.

"His name is…" Karen took a deep inhale of breath and…

*PBBBBHT!"

Gave the famous Sword Princess the loudest blown raspberry that she could muster.