“Hey, uh…Miss Aiz? There was something I wanted to talk to you about!”
They were four days into their training, having just completed a rather strenuous practice bout atop the city walls.
It was just a bit before sunrise—their decided-upon time for wrapping things up—when Bell approached Aiz, considerably red-faced and flustered.
“It’s, uh, well…tomorrow, see? My supporter won’t be able to go to the Dungeon tomorrow because of issues with her lodging, so, uh…I was thinking maybe I wouldn’t go, either, so, uh…well…I was just thinking that…that maybe tomorrow we could…Instead of just in the morning…”
“…Train…all day?” Aiz finished for him.
“Y-yes!” Bell stuttered with boisterous nods of his head.
Aiz slid her sword back into her scabbard before letting her gaze travel skyward and quietly contemplating.
She was supposed to be training Lefiya then…but Lefiya and Aiz were part of the same familia. They could get together whenever they felt like it.
Plus, to be honest, Aiz wanted to spend more time with Bell to improve his combat skills.
The short time they had before the sun rose wasn’t enough.
Which was why, with a silent apology to Lefiya, Aiz agreed.
“Very well.”
That was the story Aiz personally relayed to Lefiya, apology included, and which was also the reason the elf wasn’t able to train with her today.
Three days remained until the expedition.
It was supposed to be Lefiya’s fourth day of training, as she was one day behind Bell.
But that morning found her walking despondently down the busy main street in a tremendously bad mood.
Her azure eyes sat almost entirely still in their sockets, and her normally graceful elven features exuded a kind of silent animosity. From the demi-humans engaged on the sidewalks to those she passed in the street, everyone averted their eyes.
She gripped her beloved staff tightly to her chest, resentment saturating her very being.
“He’s not even part of our faction…he’s not even part of our faction…he’s not even part of our faction…!”
Disgraceful! Shameless! I can’t believe it!
Each tear-choked condemnation muttered under her breath was directed at that boy.
The impudence of haggling for a full day of the Sword Princess all to himself. She could feel the anger building up inside her just thinking about it. Unable to raise an objection to Aiz, Lefiya’s blame was, instead, being launched at the boy in continuous tear-laced salvos. Is he really such an absolute nitwit?!
The path she currently trudged along was on North Main Street, not far from her familia’s home.
She was on her way to the Dungeon to do a bit of training on her own—what other choice did she have? The cerulean sky stretched odiously above her, shining down on the bustling cobblestones.
“—Viridis?”
It hit her ears just as her vision had practically darkened in rage.
The sound of her last name.
“Hmm?” She spun around to find a young elven girl standing a few steps behind her.
She had long jet-black hair reminiscent of a shrine maiden’s, and her eyes shone like a pair of scarlet rubies.
Snow-white battle gear enshrouded her slender figure all the way to her neck, topped with a short cape. Beside her, a golden-haired god waited patiently.
The sight of her made Lefiya stop short in surprise.
“Miss Filvis…” she muttered under her breath.
The girl in white, Filvis, wore a startled look of her own.
A Level 3 magic swordsman and the captain of Dionysus Familia, she’d fought beside Lefiya and the others on the front lines during the incident on the twenty-fourth floor some days ago.
This chance meeting brought both of them to a stop. As passersby jostled them on all sides, the regal blond god—Dionysus himself—opened his mouth to speak.
“This is the colleague you spoke of, Filvis? The Thousand Elf?”
“Y-yes, she is.”
Lefiya stood rooted to the spot. This was her first time meeting the god of Dionysus Familia in the flesh, and she found herself at a loss as to how to react.
Dionysus, however, just smiled, examining her with his glass-like eyes.
“I’ve heard so much about you from Filvis. Could I interest you in a cup of tea, perhaps? I’d been hoping to show you my appreciation.”
The three of them made their way to a bustling outdoor café on a small corner of North Main Street. From their round table facing the road, they were surrounded on all sides by the sounds of busy footsteps and lively voices.
“It’s my understanding that you looked after Filvis down on the twenty-fourth floor. I’d like to once again offer you my utmost gratitude. If it weren’t for you, I might have lost her, and for that, I am in your debt, Lefiya Viridis.”
“I-it is nothing, really. I’ve lost count of the number of times Filvis has saved me…”
Lefiya felt terribly obliged at Dionysus’s words of praise.
Dionysus had ordered them tea and fruit tarts. The sweet smell of pastries mixed with fresh red and blue berries was enough to make Lefiya’s mouth water.
“Loki would surely wring my neck if she heard this was how I thanked you,” the golden-haired god joked somewhat strangely.
Lefiya’s impression was that he was a most refined and sociable god.
At the same time, there was something inscrutable about him. In fact, those glass-like eyes of his seemed able to peer straight through to her soul. He was a kind of all-knowing, ever-prudent godly presence, and she could see why he had offered his ill-tempered evaluation of Loki as “a shrewd deity.”
Filvis sat in silence as the two of them conversed, having been forced to accompany them. She hadn’t touched her tea or the tarts and simply glanced back and forth between Lefiya and Dionysus.
“…I believe I have a solid grasp of what happened down there by this point, but I’m interested in hearing from others who took part. How do you feel about the events on the twenty-fourth floor?”
Their pleasantries finished, Dionysus’s face hardened.
Instinctively correcting her posture, Lefiya took a few moments to think through her response. While it was true Loki mostly thought of the other god as nothing more than a parasite of sorts, the two had been comparing notes more and more often since the Monsterphilia—or so she’d heard. There was no way Dionysus hadn’t already met with Loki regarding the recent events at that place in the Dungeon.
Thus, there would be no harm in talking to him. After judging that to be the case, Lefiya relayed her opinion as a firsthand witness.
“—Magic stones inside beings even the gods know nothing about? A crystal orb that can make monsters mutate? The whole thing…Just thinking about it makes my head hurt.”
Dionysus listened to Lefiya in silence before bringing his forehead to his palm with a heavy sigh.
As Filvis watched, those glass-like eyes of his came to meet Lefiya’s.
“Thanks to the information you and the others brought back, we’ve made progress in identifying the true identity of our enemy. A third power linked to the remnants of the Evils, the being referred to only as ‘Her’ by Olivas Act…Lefiya Viridis, I must tell you—the sense of imminent danger I feel is all too real.” He continued, hardened features suppressing his feelings. “Almost as though the very peace of this city itself is silently being eaten away from the inside out…”
Lefiya had heard from Filvis that a member of Dionysus Familia had been killed before the Monsterphilia. Remembering this, she listened quietly to Dionysus’s every word.
“Though the bulk of the responsibility may end up falling on Loki Familia, we, too, would like to do everything we can. You may come to us whenever you’re in need.”
“Th-thank you. Thank you so much.” Lefiya averted her gaze in response to the god’s offer.
The sounds from the bustling street enveloped them during the lapse between their words.
“Come to think of it, how are the preparations for your expedition coming along? I heard the lot of you will be on your way to the depths before long,” Dionysus said cheerfully, in perfect contrast to their previous topic as he brought his tea to his lips. He was catching furtive glances from the female customers around them.
There was something strange about his smile—a sickly sweet mask—that put Lefiya on edge. She responded carefully, deliberately leaving out the finer details of her familia’s goings-on.
“Things are progressing according to plan. We shall leave in three days.”
“Three days…” Dionysus murmured with a faint smile. “Filvis has been worried, you know. About you and the expedition.”
Lefiya and Filvis both gave a start.
“She’s been talking about you constantly since the incident on the twenty-fourth floor. More than she talks about herself, even.”
“M-Master Dionysus!” The elven girl in question rose from her chair, causing Lefiya’s eyes to widen in shock. With her voice caught in her throat, Filvis’s normally white cheeks flushed with pink, and her eyes looked everywhere except at Lefiya.
“This is the first time I’ve seen her let anyone affect her like this in quite some time. I would imagine you’re the type of person cats take to, yes?”
“Um…What exactly do you mean by…that?”
At Lefiya’s perplexed inquisition, Dionysus’s lips curled upward in a cheeky grin befitting a god.
“When Filvis first joined the familia, her fussiness was positively off-putting. So much that she wouldn’t let anyone get near. Quite like a cat, you see.”
“I am…not sure I understand what you’re saying. What does that have to do with the current situation?”
Dionysus seemed to be enjoying himself thoroughly, shoulders shaking in mirth. The way he ignored Filvis’s appeals as he revealed her past gave the impression of a mischievous child.
Even Lefiya couldn’t help chuckling to herself at Filvis’s panic.
Try as she might to suppress her emotions, she simply couldn’t keep it together under the stares of the other two.
Already her face was beaming a brilliant shade of red.
“Might I ask what your plans are for today?” Dionysus asked gently, his gaze soft as he took in the two elves.
“Today? I, uh…was planning on heading to the Dungeon for a bit of magic training.”
“I see…” Dionysus brought a hand to his slender chin. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, perhaps you could take Filvis with you?”
Lefiya and Filvis were taken by surprise once again.
“What do you think?”
“I-I suppose it would…be okay…” Lefiya murmured.
“W-wait just a minute, Master Dionysus!”
But even as Filvis raised an objection to Lefiya’s tentative consent, Dionysus interrupted her with an assurance of his own.
“Don’t worry about me. Go help her.”
“B-but I…”
“Don’t let me stop you from strengthening your bond with one of Loki’s people. In fact, I’ve already made it known that you should do everything in your power to cooperate with them. You wouldn’t go against the will of your god, would you?”
Cutting Filvis’s flustered protests short with a single smile, he turned his gaze to Lefiya.
“Lefiya Viridis, if it’s not too much to ask, I would hope that you and Filvis could get along. There’s a bit of a rift between her and the others in our familia.” With a hint of fatherly love in his eyes, he added: “I would love to see her smile again.”
With that, Dionysus rose from his chair.
“If you’ll excuse me,” he said before exiting the café and disappearing into the crowd.
The two elven girls were left alone at the table.
Their eyes met. Filvis’s lips parted in resignation.
“If…if it really isn’t too much trouble, I’ll join you,” she said, face red and eyes averted.
“…All right. We’ll go together.” Lefiya could feel her own face begin heating up at Filvis’s embarrassment. She cracked a sweet smile.
“…”
After parting with the elves, Dionysus was quiet as he made his way from the busy street to a small alley situated neatly in the crack between two buildings.
The narrow corridor was dim compared to the earlier brightness of the main street.
And for a moment, it was silent. Then…
“—What an adorable relationship those two have.”
The teasing, provocative voice of one of his fellow gods came from in front of him.
“Do you need something, Hermes?” Dionysus replied indifferently, almost as though he’d already been alerted to the other’s presence.
The owner of the voice emerged from the shadows to approach him.
A set of lightweight traveling attire graced his frame, and his orange eyes complemented his tangerine hair.
The finespun gentleman with eyes as sharp as arrows raised the brim of his winged hat and gave a laugh.
“How goes it, Dionysus?”
Dionysus’s eyes narrowed at the simpering god as his masklike smile came into focus.
It had been Hermes’s gaze on his back that led him to hand off Filvis. An honest girl like her would only get in the way as he attempted to wheedle out his fellow god’s true intentions.
You couldn’t let your guard down around Hermes.
He’d come to inherit a sort of shrewd handyman-type presence among the other gods, and he had no qualms about dealing with all manner of clients—a fact that was particularly apparent at this moment.
Hermes’s smile deepened, the gloom of the back alleyway crowning his head.
“I merely wanted to talk. You’re free at the moment, aren’t you?”
“So you accost me in an alley? A fine place for an ordinary little chat.”
“Now, now, no need to raise your hackles.” Hermes raised his hands in harmless insistence.
Dionysus just snorted. Everything about the overly theatrical god was suspicious.
“Don’t tell me you’re Ouranos’s little dog now. You done with Zeus? You can’t have expected that I didn’t notice you and that old fossil colluding together.”
“You’re quite mistaken, I assure you. I’m just the middleman.”
“Oh, give me a break! I hardly trust either of you,” Dionysus retorted, considerably harsher than normal.
Hermes hunched his shoulders.
“Let’s start with the Monsterphilia, hmm? What exactly are Ouranos and the others hiding? If you’re so intent on gaining my trust, you had better start talking.”
“Hiding? What could they possibly be hiding? And if they are, I’d be first in line to want to know,” Hermes replied airily, his grin never faltering.
“Then we’ve nothing to talk about,” Dionysus finished with a cold glare and turned on his heels.
“Whoa, whoa, whoooooa! Stop for a moment and just listen to me, would you, Dionysus?” Hermes dashed forward to stop Dionysus in his tracks, then gently wrap his arm around the other god’s shoulder. He brought their faces together.
“I lost children myself down on the twenty-fourth floor. I’m just as much a victim here as you! If there really is something happening in Orario…then you can bet I’ll do everything in my power to find out.”
“…”
“Come now. As fellow gods from the heavens, you’ll tolerate a bit of idle chatter for me, won’t you?” Hermes’s orange eyes narrowed slightly as they peered into Dionysus’s clear ones. His voice lowered to barely a whisper. “In fact, I’ve prepared us some grape wine just for the occasion. Who knows…? Maybe my own lips will loosen after a bit of savory drink.”
“…I’m very particular about my grape wine, you know.”
Both their mouths curled up into identical crescent moons.
“…Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.”
“…Heh-heh-heh-heh.”
The two gods exchanged laughter darker than the shadows in the alley.
Then they took off down the road, arms around each other’s shoulders, before disappearing into the gloom.
“Talk about ominous…”
A dejected mutter could be heard above the two deities.
A female figure squatted atop the buildings above the alleyway—the chienthrope thief and member of Hermes Familia, Lulune.
Beside the girl, whose dog tail hung low with apparent exhaustion, was a beauty with aqua-blue hair framing her silver glasses.
The edges of Asfi Al Andromeda’s white cloak fluttered in the breeze.
She was not only Lulune’s captain but also the worldliest member of the entire Hermes Familia.
Witnessing the almost sinister back-and-forth that had taken place below them just a moment before, she could only offer a sigh.
“Their hearts are as black as you can get…C’mon, Asfi. Can’t we just go home?”
“…No. We keep on.” Asfi responded to her colleague’s appeal with a tired slump of her eyelids. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
Then the two girls tasked with keeping an eye on their god stealthily followed in Hermes’s and Dionysus’s footsteps.
“Just who does that human think he is?!” Lefiya said, voice sharp as a thorn, as the two elves bathed in the phosphorescent light of the Dungeon’s mazelike walls. They were on the Dungeon’s fifth floor. Shortly after parting with Dionysus, they had set out on their way to the upper levels for Lefiya’s magic training, as planned.
As the two of them passed by one lower-class party after another, Lefiya relayed every one of her pent-up grievances about the human Bell to her fellow elf.
Filvis, upon grasping the situation, couldn’t resist shooting her disgruntled comrade a wry smile. “This reminds me of my own familia. We had someone like Aiz, too, who was always taking care of the other members. You should have seen the fights I used to have with my friend over her…” A hint of nostalgia tinged her voice, her gaze pointed forward.
The wistfulness coloring Filvis’s features, marbled with just a bit of sadness, was enough to bring Lefiya’s tirade to a halt.
An older member of her familia…A friend she used to constantly argue with…Could she have lost those companions during the Twenty-Seventh-Floor Nightmare? The tragic event that had stolen so many lives?
Lefiya was silent for a moment; then, in a deliberately boisterous voice, she began her diatribe anew, going on first about Aiz and the others, and then about the boy and his many faults. She wouldn’t allow her kin to succumb to her grief.
Filvis responded with a smile, her deep-red eyes crinkling.
“Right, then. It was Concurrent Casting you were practicing, was it?”
“Indeed! I attempted to chant while Aiz attacked me…”
Lefiya and Filvis approached the center of the room—the place in the western part of the Dungeon’s fifth floor that Lefiya had grown so used to these past few days—before the two faced each other.
Filvis’s slender chin tucked inward in contemplation as she listened to Lefiya recount her training.
“In my role as captain, I often make use of Concurrent Casting. Mastering it would indeed be of great value to you…”
As a magic swordswoman, Filvis occupied the role of High Balancer, an elite position in the center of formations, where something like Concurrent Casting was virtually a requirement. In fact, when it came to frequency of use, Filvis topped even Riveria. That she just so happened to be Aiz’s replacement in today’s training session was quite a lucky coincidence for Lefiya.
Even as Filvis stood there looking mildly troubled, Lefiya knew she had to have her as her teacher.
“If you have even the briefest word of advice you could give me—a trick, perhaps. Something that could give me an advantage…”
“A trick? But aren’t you studying under Riveria? Mixing her instructions with mine could very well lead to confusion…”
There was no one Filvis respected more than Riveria, the greatest magic user in Orario and, moreover, a high elf. She was probably afraid anything she might tell Lefiya would clash with Riveria’s teachings.
She was silent a moment. Then, finally, she gave a little nod, as though reaching a decision.
“I’ve never trained anyone before, so I’ve no confidence when it comes to giving instruction…” Filvis’s eyes rose to meet Lefiya’s. “But perhaps you’ll let me speak as a fellow magic user. Viridis, throw aside attacking and defending.”
“What?!”
“Mages aren’t naturally inclined toward hand-to-hand combat. Superficial attack and defense will only lead to failure, like sharpening a dull, damaged sword for reuse. You must, instead, devote yourself fully to pure evasion. Divert your attention for nothing but the casting of your spell.”
There were four main elements to keep in mind when attempting to chant concurrently during a battle: attacking (and defending), moving, evading, and chanting. What Filvis was telling her now, however, was to forget about the first element. To give up on trying to attack and defend.
Truth be told, chanting was the only element that mattered for pure magic users fighting as the rear guard. As a magic swordswoman who’d struggled her way through the front lines of battle, Filvis spoke from experience when she explained that sloppy hand-to-hand combat could lead to more than a simple magic misfire—it could lead to a magic self-detonation.
When you were trapped, just evade, evade, and evade some more.
“Concurrent Casting is supposed to be easier for those on the front lines to learn. Magic users in the rear guard, valued for their firepower capable of changing the tides of battle, must begin by mastering their technique above all else. Keep in mind that magic power encompasses more than simply the strength of your spell.”
Adventurers on the front line needed to be constantly moving, engaged in a sort of sword dance and prepared to tackle even the most unforeseen of circumstances. After that, all that was left to do was throw one new element into the mix—chanting, for instance. This made it much easier for them to not only learn Concurrent Casting but to master it. And that wasn’t even going into their magic output, which was remarkably low—a desirable trait when one’s magic output was like a bomb waiting to go off.
And so they would freely alternate between attacking and defending, all the while hurling their spells.
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