"Deeper it is." I rolled my shoulder, testing for any lingering stiffness. "But we're not rushing in blind."
Bell nodded, already scanning the green-tinted corridor ahead. His movements mirrored mine - careful footsteps, measured breathing, sword arm ready. The similarity was almost uncanny.
A screech echoed from somewhere in the darkness. Bell tensed, but held his position.
"Good," I said. "You're learning."
"The hard way." He touched a spot on his chest. "Got tagged by a War Shadow last time I charged in."
Two sets of red eyes gleamed in the shadows. War Shadows, moving in that peculiar half-crouched stance of theirs. Bell shifted his weight, preparing to strike.
"Wait," I said. "Watch their feet."
The Shadows advanced, their claws scraping against stone. Bell's eyes narrowed, then widened.
"They're favoring their right sides," he said.
"Which means?"
A pink tongue shot out from behind the Shadows. Bell sidestepped, letting it crash into the wall.
"They're herding us," he answered, already moving to flank the closest Shadow.
I engaged the second one, keeping my movements minimal. The Shadow overextended, its claws missing my throat by inches. My counter-strike took its arm off at the elbow.
Bell was a blur of motion, darting in and out of his Shadow's reach. Each strike found its mark, but his footwork...
『He's wasting energy,』Minerva said.
'I noticed.'
The Frog Shooter tried another tongue strike. I caught it on my sword, giving Bell the opening he needed. His knife plunged into the Shadow's back, and it burst into ash.
My own opponent fell a moment later, leaving just the Frog. Bell charged it head-on, dodging another tongue strike through sheer speed.
"Bell, left!"
He rolled left without hesitation. My sword took the Frog's eye, ending the fight.
"How..." Bell paused to catch his breath. "How did you know it would attack right?"
"Their tongues always curve toward their good eye." I collected the magic stones. "You're quick, but you're burning too much stamina."
"What do you mean?"
A distant roar cut off my response. More Shadows, at least four of them.
"Watch me," I said. "Match my movements."
The Shadows emerged from a side passage, spreading out to surround us. I kept my stance loose, sword low.
Bell copied my posture, though his natural instincts made him bounce slightly on his feet. The first Shadow lunged at him.
Instead of his usual dodge, Bell stayed grounded. His knife caught the Shadow's claws, deflecting them just enough. The counter-strike was almost perfect.
Almost.
"Better," I said, parrying a strike from my own opponent. "But you're still-"
"Thinking too much?" Bell spun away from another attack.
"The opposite." I stepped inside a Shadow's guard, ending it with two economical strikes. "You're running on instinct. Makes you twitchy."
Two more Shadows down. Bell's movements were smoother now, though still not quite right. Something about his style seemed... unfinished. Raw.
When the last monster fell, I turned to him. "Where did you train before Orario?"
"I didn't." He wiped monster dust from his knife. "Grew up in a farming village."
"Self-taught?"
He nodded. "Grandfather had some books on swordsmanship, but..." His voice trailed off.
"But?"
"He died before he could teach me properly." Bell's eyes fixed on the green walls. "That's why I came here. To become the kind of hero he used to tell stories about."
『Interesting,』Minerva said. 『His foundation is incomplete, but his instincts are exceptional.』
'Like he was meant for this.'
"Your grandfather," I said. "What kind of stories did he tell?"
A screech interrupted Bell's response. Three Frog Shooters hopped into view, followed by a pair of War Shadows.
Bell's stance shifted - still quick, still aggressive, but with a touch more control.
"I'll tell you later," he said, knife ready. "If we survive this floor."
I smiled. "Deal."
The last Frog Shooter collapsed into ash. I rolled my neck, scanning the corridor for more threats. Nothing. Just the distant drip of water and Bell's measured breathing.
"Well," I said, scooping up the magic stones, "this floor's getting crowded."
Bell checked his crystal bag, the contents clinking together. "We've made good progress. These should fetch a decent price."
I weighed my own bag. Heavy. The kind of weight that made smart adventurers head topside.
"Seventh floor's just ahead," Bell said, but his tone lacked conviction. He knew the smart play as well as I did.
"Tempting." I gestured at our bags. "But greed kills more adventurers than monsters do."
"True." Bell secured his knife. "Eina-san would lecture me for hours if I pushed too far."
We backtracked through the winding passages, keeping our guard up. Even a 'cleared' floor could spring surprises.
"So," I said, breaking the comfortable silence, "about those stories your grandfather told."
Bell's steps faltered for a moment. Not pain in his expression - something warmer.
"Which one do you want to hear?"
"Dealer's choice." I kept my peripheral vision on our surroundings. "But make it good."
Bell laughed. "There was one about the Smith and the Star." His voice took on a practiced rhythm, like he'd heard these words a hundred times. "In the northern mountains, where winter never ends, there lived a blacksmith who forged dreams into steel."
A War Shadow's screech echoed from somewhere behind us. We quickened our pace.
"One night," Bell continued as we moved, "a star fell from the sky. Not a real star - a spirit of light who'd lost her way. The smith found her freezing in the snow and brought her to his forge."
『Classic fairy tale structure,』 Minerva noted. 『But there's something...』
'Different?'
『Personal.』
"The star was dying," Bell said, checking a corner before we turned. "Her light fading. The smith knew he couldn't save her, not as she was. So he offered her a choice - let him forge her essence into a blade."
"Bit morbid for a children's story."
"That's what I said." Bell smiled. "But grandfather insisted it wasn't about death. It was about transformation."
Two Frog Shooters blocked our path. We dispatched them without breaking stride.
"The star agreed," Bell said, wiping monster dust from his knife. "The smith worked for seven days and seven nights, pouring all his skill into the blade. And when it was done..."
He paused, either for dramatic effect or to catch his breath as we climbed a steeper section.
"Well?" I prompted. "Don't leave me hanging."
"The blade shone like moonlight. But more than that - it sang. Every strike, every parry had its own note. The smith had forged not just a weapon, but an instrument of perfect harmony."
We reached a familiar junction. The path to the surface stretched ahead, marked by decades of adventurer footprints.
"Let me guess," I said. "The smith became a legendary hero with his singing sword."
Bell shook his head. "He gave it away. To a young adventurer who reminded him of his daughter."
"That's it?"
"That's it. Grandfather said not every hero needs glory. Sometimes it's enough to create something that outlives you."
I studied Bell's profile in the dungeon's green light. There was more to that story, something personal wrapped in metaphor.
『Ask him about his grandfather,』 Minerva suggested.
'Not yet.'
We climbed in silence for a while, our crystal bags growing heavier with each step.
"Fair enough." I adjusted my grip on my sword. "Though you might want to work on your dramatic timing. The star spirit bit was a little rushed."
Bell laughed. "Grandfather said the same thing. He could stretch that story out for hours, adding little details about the smith's technique, the color of the star's hair..."
"Sounds like quite a character."
"He was." Bell's voice softened. "Sometimes I think... never mind."
"You know what I think?" I said, keeping my tone casual. "I think your grandfather knew exactly what he was doing. Teaching you through stories, laying the groundwork."
"For what?"
"This." I gestured at the dungeon around us. "All of it."
Bell opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. His expression shifted from confusion to something like recognition.
"Maybe," he said finally. "But if he did..."
"Why not tell you directly?"
"Yeah."
We reached the fifth floor.
"Some lessons," I said, "you have to learn for yourself. Stories just plant the seeds."
Bell considered this as we navigated the familiar corridors. His knife hand stayed ready, even though we both knew the third floor monsters posed no real threat anymore.
"What about you?" he asked suddenly.
"What about me?"
"Any stories that shaped you? That planted seeds?"
I reached for memories that should have been there. Found only static.
『Data corrupted,』 Minerva said unnecessarily. 『But the neural pathways suggest...』
'What?'
『Someone taught you. Thoroughly.』
"Can't remember," I told Bell. "But I must have had something similar. Nobody gets this good by accident."
He accepted this with a nod, though I caught the flash of curiosity in his eyes. Add it to the growing list of questions about my convenient skills and spotty memory.
"Next time," Bell said, "I'll tell you about the Princess and the Mirror Sword. It was grandfather's favorite."
"Let me guess - another story about transformation?"
"How did you know?"
I smiled. "Pattern recognition. Your grandfather had a theme going."
The entrance came into view, sunlight painting the walls in shades of gold and amber. Our boots crunched on the gravel path leading out.
"Dante?"
"Mm?"
"Thank you. For the training, I mean. And for listening."
I considered deflecting with a joke. Decided against it.
"Thank you for the story," I said instead. "Your grandfather sounds like someone worth knowing."
Bell's smile was answer enough.
We emerged into the late afternoon sun, our crystal bags heavy with profit. And if I noticed how Bell's stance had subtly shifted during our climb, mirroring some of my own movements...
Well, some stories wrote themselves.
The guild hall's familiar stone facade loomed ahead, its shadow stretching across the afternoon streets. Bell peeled off toward Eina's counter with a wave, leaving me to face my own reckoning.
Rose's golden eyes locked onto me the moment I approached her station. Her gaze traveled from my face down to my torn clothing, one eyebrow rising fractionally.
"Before you start," I said, "there's no blood this time."
"No armor either." She drummed her fingers on the counter. "Again."
I set my crystal bag down with a solid thunk. "The armor slows me down."
"So will a War Shadow's claws through your chest." She pulled out the assessment forms, her pen scratching against parchment. "Floor?"
"Made it to six. Would've pushed to seven, but..." I gestured at the hefty bag.
Rose's nostrils flared slightly - a werewolf tell I was learning to read. "Smart choice. For once."
『She's genuinely pleased,』 Minerva noted. 『Though she's trying not to show it.』
I emptied the bag, arranging the magic stones and drop items in neat rows. Rose's practiced hands sorted through them, occasionally pausing to examine a particularly clean cut or unusual specimen.
"Your technique is improving," she said, weighing a War Shadow's finger blade. "These cuts are precise."
"Had a good teacher."
"The Guild thanks you for the compliment."
"I meant Bell, actually."
That got me a proper look. "Bell Cranel? The rabbit boy?"
"He's got solid instincts. Just needs refinement."
Rose made a noncommittal sound, returning to her assessment. I watched her work, noting how her movements never wasted an inch of space. Everything in its place, every motion serving a purpose.
"Thirty-seven thousand valis," she announced, pushing a stack of coins across the counter.
I pocketed the money. "Any new advisories I should know about?"
"Nothing official." She lowered her voice. "But there's been talk of increased monster spawns on the upper floors. More than usual."
"Define 'more than usual.'"
"Three parties reported back-to-back encounters on five and six. Normally there's a cooldown period between spawns."
I thought back to our descent. The shadows had been unusually aggressive, hunting in larger packs.
"Thanks for the heads up."
Rose nodded, already reaching for a fresh stack of forms. But her pen paused before touching paper.
"Dante."
"Mm?"
"Get some armor. Please."
Something in her tone made me look closer. The professional mask had slipped, just for a moment.
"I'll think about it."
"That's not a yes."
"It's not a no either."
A hint of fang showed in her smile. "I suppose that's progress."
I left her to her paperwork, drifting toward where Bell stood with his own advisor. The half-elf was in full lecture mode, her glasses catching the afternoon light.
"...and the importance of proper equipment cannot be overstated," Eina was saying. "Especially when venturing below the fifth floor."
Bell nodded earnestly. "Yes, Eina-san."
"Furthermore-" She spotted me approaching. "Ah, Valac-san. Perhaps you can help reinforce this lesson?"
"Actually," I said, "Bell's been teaching me a few things."
Eina's eyebrows rose. "Oh?"
"Proper footwork. Energy conservation. The importance of stories."
"Stories?" Her gaze shifted between us.
"Old fairy tales," Bell explained. "About smiths and stars."
Understanding softened Eina's expression. "I see. Well, as long as these lessons don't involve ignoring basic safety protocols..."
"We're being careful," Bell assured her. "Right, Dante?"
I thought of Rose's concerned look, of the torn fabric at my shoulder where a Shadow's claws had nearly connected.
"Define 'careful.'"
Bell's laugh earned him a stern look from Eina, but I caught the slight upturn of her lips.
"At least one of you is taking this seriously," she said, shuffling her papers. "Now, about those monster spawn reports..."
I left them to their briefing, finding a quiet corner to count my earnings. Thirty-seven thousand valis would buy decent armor, with enough left over for supplies. The logical choice.
『But?』 Minerva prompted.
'But logic isn't everything.'
I watched Bell wrap up his meeting, his enthusiasm somehow undimmed by Eina's warnings. He caught my eye and headed over.
"Eina-san says the spawns are increasing," he said. "Think we should take a break from exploring?"
I thought of Rose's concerned look, of Eina's lectures. Of the way Bell's movements had slowly synchronized with mine during our descent.
"No," I said. "But we should be smarter about it."
"Meaning?"
I pulled out a handful of valis. "Meaning it's time to go shopping."
Bell's eyes lit up. "For armor?"
"Among other things." I stood, pocketing the rest of the valis. "Know any good shops?"
"Actually..." Bell grinned. "I might know some. But first, there's this place that sells amazing jagamaru-kun..."
I let him lead the way, his voice animated as he described his favorite food stand. The guild hall's shadow fell away behind us, and ahead stretched the winding streets of Orario.
Where monsters spawned without reason, and advisors worried, and somewhere a smith waited to forge whatever we might become.
『That was almost poetic,』 Minerva said.
'Shut up.'
Bell's story about the smith and the star echoed in my mind as we walked. Not every hero needs glory. Sometimes it's enough to create something that outlives you.
I wondered what Bell's grandfather would think of his grandson now, learning and teaching in equal measure. Creating his own story, one careful step at a time.
"Dante?" Bell had stopped walking. "You coming?"
I realized I'd fallen behind, lost in thought.
"Yeah," I said, catching up. "Lead the way."