Unquestionably, I've Bitten Off More Than I Could Chew (4.1)
…
Consciousness returned to me slowly, and with it came a deep, throbbing pain on my neck.
Out of habit, I immediately stopped every movement I could. Pain anywhere close to the spine or neck meant potential to be paralyzed. Losing motor functions would mean losing the ability to Chant. That meant that I wouldn't be able to use Mend and heal myself.
That would mean dying.
Understandably, I didn't move until I felt the healing magic wash over me. Even if Mend is weaker when not directed by one's hands, I'd take inefficiency over permanently paralyzing myself and a slow death.
I was glad that I did, because the moment I opened my eyes, I shot up to my feet faster than a bullet.
Immense tunnel made of stone, monster crystals everywhere, and the scent of death in the air.
I was in the Dungeon.
In moments like these, I was very thankful for Conscienta Strenuissium. Instead of letting panic and fear completely overwhelm me, I found myself observing and assessing the situation even as a large portion of my mind was engulfed by terror. At the same time, I felt a smaller portion of my mind devoted to regaining some semblance of calm and control begin to grow.
I saw a bag in the corner, a leather pouch hardly larger than my hands. I noticed that my armored cloak was gone.
It's far from complete nullification of fear, more akin to immense resistance and adaptability. Some would say that I'm simply downplaying my ability, but if a certain threshold is reached, my own skill could backfire and throw my into madness for hours. That happened quite a few times in my first few months here.
Rummaging through the bag, I found two lesser health potions, a lesser mind potion, and a stiletto knife. The mind potion is useless… save for a few creative uses. I'd be keeping them all regardless. I tore apart my vest and used it to gather up the monster crystals.
After thinking too much about everything I'd lost or the thought I'd never get it back, I'd simply turn into an incoherent, babbling mess, barely capable of moving, let alone fighting. Having that occur in the Dungeon would be a death sentence. That's why I always prepared myself, created plans, and fallbacks whenever going into the Dungeon. Besides that, I felt more comfortable knowing my destination, the monsters I'd be fighting, and having the right weapon to deal with them than… not. Caution is simply a better method of quelling fear than bravery.
Mechanically, I strapped the pouch to my leg. My belt sufficed as a fastener for my pouch of crystalized magic. A note fell from the flap.
Where was I? I took a deep breath and felt for the wind. The scent of moss and flowers was in the air, I was probably in a room on the Ninth Floor, where insect monsters spawned. The breeze came swiftly and assuredly, meaning I was also in the Tenth and Eleventh Floors, where orcs and imps resided with other brutish monsters. I'm nowhere near an explored area of the Dungeon. This location didn't 'match' anywhere I'd been to, or heard about. It couldn't be natural.
I read the note. It said: Cease Restraining Him. I pocketed it away. Already knew that someone off their rocker put me here. Takes a special brand of crazy to do this to an Adventurer rather than just kill them. I dealt with the lower class of monsters with the steel stiletto. Good for stabbing, not much else.
Now knowing that I've been moved into an unmapped part of the Dungeon, I strained my ears, felt for the temperature, and narrowed my gaze. Besides the ambient, dim light of the dungeon, there wasn't much else. Bad news, given following torches and Mage Lights is the best way to escape. Shouldn't have bothered, really. I focused on listening and for the heat. In the distance I heard the flapping of wings. Large wings. Accompanied by a massive heartbeat. I didn't bother looking for the climate, since it was getting closer.
Kicking off the floor, I barreled past monstrous ants, moths, and butterflies. I needed to put distance between myself and the single monster that was my absolute, worst matchup. I leapt, ducked, and rolled past them. The impact against the floor was more than I'd liked without my coat.
Infant Dragon. The only thing that resembled a 'Boss' in the Lower Levels. Technically speaking, its powerful, but a group of decent Level 1s can take it on, especially if they have a mage. Unless, that is, if it managed to become an Adolescent Dragon after being Tamed or… killing a sufficient number of adventurers. If it's gained its wings, that means that it's scales have hardened and become resistant against magic, as well as gained the ability to breathe fire. It's known as the Mage Killer. At that point, a team of experienced Level 2s would be needed, or a veteran Level 3.
Quickly, I found myself at a dead end. I'd followed an upward, sloping trail only to find myself looking up at a vertical hole about ten meters above me. I could scale the wall and the tunnel itself, but that would be a death sentence. The Dragon will simply burn me to death. I'm not faster than propelled flame. I looked for cover as its heartbeat grew louder due to proximity. How was it following me?
Trapping me where I didn't know places to crawl into to hide, set up ambushes, or use rock clusters to my advantage. Taming a Mage Killer and training it to come after me. Giving me a weapon that is clearly unsuited for my enemy. Whoever did this to me knew more about me than I'd like, had a lot of resources on their hands, and were obviously forcing me to either become stronger or die. A god, a very powerful one, was watching Cranel, and they didn't want him growing slowly and steadily.
The attack that took place hours ago wasn't to hurt the Loki Familia, it was to try and kidnap me. I had damned myself the moment I left Twilight House.
Alright, that little investigation over, I took stock of my situation.
Obviously, the best thing to do is to run away. I'm faster than any monster in the Lower Levels. Even if this one could fly, it's not an actual, fully-grown Dragon. The cons to the plan are obvious. There's the fact that I have no clue where I am, and the chance of me luring the Dragon into a band of unprepared adventurers below Level 3. Still, it's my primary plan. I'll drag any idiots I find with me, and chances are I'll manage to lose it in the Dungeon.
My armor is nonexistent. The button-up shirt is more to separate my rougher clothes from my skin than actual armor. My boots and pants are both untouched, though the knives in the soles and my emergency healing potion against my thigh was missing. I'm not paranoid enough to hide potions in… more discrete areas. I probably never will either. Leaving me with a satchel of three lesser potions, a bag of monster crystals, a steel stiletto, and my own slightly-useless magic.
Mend, Nourish, Continuous Chain Lightning, Everlasting Bolt, Empower, and Haste are all that I have on hand. It would take a Level 4 spell to at least hurt the Adolescent Dragon, and though I had such a spell, it wasn't currently with me. I had prepared for utility and crowd control, not for facing a goddamn dragon. Note to self, always carry around the Ceaseless Thunderbolt Battery from this point onward. Better to have it and not need it, than not have it and be facing a fucking dragon.
The Adolescent Dragon appeared. Four heavy, taloned legs dug into the stone, dull, scarlet scales shone dimly in the dungeon's ambient light, and shreds of dark fabric hung upon its muzzle. They were leftovers of my cloak, allowing it to follow me by scent. The Dragon had been Tamed, conditioned to find and kill me.
I can't flee, I had no hopes of losing it with it tracking me by scent.
Alright, Plan B it is.
The dragon lunged at me, its elongated neck blurring forward, but the chant that started the moment I realized I couldn't run finished.
Haste's effect of doubling speed for the caster for a minute is normally used by Mages to double their Agility and Dexterity. When combined with Empower, which doubles Strength and Endurance for a split second, a Mage can make a gigantic, running leap that sends them clear through the lengths of hallways or Open Floors without the chance of their bones breaking and shattering because of the strain. Both of the Level 1 Spells are intended to be used in conjunction, with Haste being cast first and then Empower, allowing a Mage a few seconds to escape after being located by monsters.
Haste came upon me, doubling my maximized Agility and Dexterity, allowing me to dodge the Adolescent Dragon. Much like the Infant Dragon, it radiated a 'Heat Aura' that could set things alight for what strayed too close to it. Unlike its lesser version, however, its Heat Aura could kill a normal being in less than a minute standing near it. Understandably, even as I dodged its 4 meter length neck, I felt my insides and skin begin to burn.
However, the Haste I had is completely different from the regular version, otherwise Alf and I would never have entered a bidding competition against one another for it. The Short-Chant spell we basically fought over is a 'Continuous' version made for High-Level Mages with absolutely monstrous amounts of Mind. For both the elf princess and myself, such a spell is ridiculously powerful, as we're both capable of concurrent chanting and are far more durable than other mages, myself because all my stats are maximized, and her because she's a Level 6.
Ducking beneath its body, sidestepping its following head, and sprinting past its thrashing tail only took me three seconds. However, I felt as though I'd been boiled alive. I was lucky to have decided against chanting and holding my breath beneath the monster. Otherwise, I'm sure that my lungs would've been burnt to a crisp by the heated air vapor that clung to the monster.
Thankfully, I'd been through worse to manage to maximize my Endurance. Adventurers are a tenacious lot on average, and I'm sure that only Cranel could withstand as much damage as myself without magical trinkets. A normal being would've had their blood boiling in their veins, their eye fluids bubbling and oozing, and maybe even had strokes from the sudden temperature shift. Not the case for even the weakest to receive Grace, even the most recent Level 1 could be recovered from that, even if they would be completely insensate and immobile.
The dragon roared in fury as it spread its wings, but I was already speeding down the hallway with another Mend on my lips.
The only way for me to kill the Adolescent Dragon is with a very, very heavy and strong weapon. Preferably, I'd have my own preferred tool for the job, but that isn't the case. Instead, I needed to find it in the Dungeon itself. A Landform weapon created by monsters.
However, that posed another problem itself.
In the Lower Floors, only Orcs made Landform weapons. Such weapons can be broken with a correct strike from an iron weapon, so it's ultimately useless.
The Middle Floors had the Almiraj, which are bipedal, speedy monster rabbits that created hardy, tough weapons to butcher adventurers to death. However, they're still only as strong as the Steel Stiletto that I already had on hand. Unless those ridiculous things started to make warhammers or pikes, I doubted they had anything I could use to my advantage.
So, that meant I only had one option, and a single path towards surviving this.
I needed to find and kill the strongest Landform weapon user in the Middle Floors, the Minotaur, all the while evading hundreds of monsters, then double back and kill the Adolescent Dragon with the weapon before it crumbles into dust in my hands.
I hate this world, so much.
...
The more I looked about, and the deeper I went, the more concerned I grew about the power of the enemy I faced.
A blow between the eyes crushes the head of the Purple Moth. It can't spray its toxin without a head. Extract toxin gland? No. Minotaur and Adolescent Dragon both to immune to weak poison.
I wasn't dumped into the Dungeon.
A punch crushes the charging Needle Rabbit's chest. Won't kill it, but its blood attracts insect monsters. More useful dying than completely dead.
No, that's incorrect, I'm still in the Dungeon.
Orc. Slow, clumsy, and with redundant organs. Evade. No. Head back, turn on heel, less time wasted. Worthwhile time investment.
The correct term would be I'm not in a 'wild' part of the Dungeon.
Enrage and hope to slow down Adolescent Dragon. Cripple knee with elbow while sliding beneath, rise and turn on heel, and pulverize kidney with proper, lateral elbow strike. Don't forget to twist properly. Sufficient damage for Berserk to kick in. Leave.
Even as I ran, my eyes registered small nuances and parts of the enormous area. Thanks to Conscienta Strenuissium, I was able to process and ponder about the nature of the location while still staying alive.
Imp. Fast, works in packs, and herds enemies towards groups of orcs. Pursuer-type. Perforate with stiletto during diving attack. Liability if left alive.
This place is a Monster Farm. An artificial spawn area, carved out with great expense, that held elements of multiple Floors. Too many support pillars had sniper perches, dozens of caverns to simply drop Monster Crystals, and chokepoints to rapidly kill monsters.
Wipe out train of monsters following with chain lightning. Upward leap forward, turn until facing pack, unleash spell and cease before landing. Orc engaged Adolescent Dragon. Died in first exchange. Still, held dragon for ten seconds. Only took three to create. Better distraction than expected.
As an MMO player, I could appreciate the work of my enemy. A massive amount of money and time invested to create a place that could churn out immense sums of money. Two or three Level 3s can walk in and harvest the place for millions of Valis a day. Easy money. However, for me, that information only told me of the immense power and influence my enemy had.
Group of orcs, pack of three. Amount of time needed to make all Berserk? Fifteen seconds? No. Not needed. Cause Berserk Status in two. Remaining one will be beaten by fellows to Berserk. Leap. Knee Orc in eye. Stiletto through other eye. Not too deep. Lightly lobotomize, not kill. Jump to other Orc, twist past grasping arm, repeat earlier process. Disembark. Continue running. Undamaged Orc squeals as two Berserk Orcs pummel it. Side quest completed. You have gained 0 XP.
To create this they needed money and influence. The former to hire the smiths, miners, and architects. The latter to disappear them all away unnoticed. High quality of work meant very skilled craftsmen. Not masters, just experienced journeymen. Recruited from outside Orario, most assuredly. Maybe even let them live! Nah. Someone this crazy definitely ties up loose ends.
Wave of Monster Bats. They're Monster Bats because Batpat is a stupid name for a deadly monster. Kill quickly. Too dangerous to allow to live. Utilize Everlasting Bolt, drag across swarm, and supplement with thrown rocks. Orc trio engaged Dragon. Tamed Dragon used fire breath. It's super effective! Orcs suffered Critical Existence Failure! Dragon withheld only for fifteen seconds. Decent payout.
Huh, I'm narrowing down the list of suspects of this significantly. Hmmm… Hephaestus? Has enough money, access to skilled workers, but not enough Level 3s to properly take advantage of it. Apollo? Enough money, clout, and decent warriors… but too busy canoodling with one another. Perverts, the lot of them. They're all as pure as year-old dakimakura. Speaking of lewdness, Hestia is right out. Poor, no contacts, and only with Cranel to her name.
Dragon throws flaming carcass of Orc at me. Easily dodge thanks to Haste and not being an idiot. Ludicrous how many adventurers fail to check if they're still being chased. Situational awareness is one of my 108 Loner Skills you stupid, teenage dragon! Go back to wherever you came and cry yourself to sleep! Ooh, it still has its club. That'll be useful… if I wasn't running away. Dammit, my luck stat is in the negatives! Is there any way to train that? Will it be as stupid as just flipping coins? I've done so many stupid things to raise my stats, I wouldn't be surprised if that were truly the case.
Miach? No, too poor and nice. Well, being nice didn't really count. So, just too poor. Also without the necessary adventurers. Dian Cecht? Certainly meets all the requirements… but doesn't have the adventurers again. Same goes for Goibnui, as obsessed as they are with their weapons, I can't see them leaving their shop, let alone doing this. Ganesha? Huh, they actually work in all accounts, but Ganesha's a 'God of the people,' but maybe that's just a front? No one expects the nice guy! Good, I'm getting somewhere.
The cavernous depths of the Middle Levels appear swiftly, and I don't bother with going through the sloping tunnels. Casting Empower, I simply launch myself towards one 'natural' stone bridge to another. The place looked like it was carved out with blasting spells. I guess that the workers couldn't really work well while being hounded by dozens of Almiraj and Hellhounds. Lots of chokepoints and causeways to ensure adventurers aren't surrounded, just like the route the Guild tells normal adventurers to take. Facing either monster in regular tunnels is close to suicide. Of course, the Dragon simply unfurls its wings and follows me down.
Loki? Hmph. A good, decent guess. They met every requirement… but this didn't strike me as Loki's style. That god isn't one for organized situations. Looking into her eyes, I saw battle lust, but the people she had seemed… well, Riveria won't stand for that sort of thing. Crazy elf she might be, she's still a good person. Now, I don't know much about anyone else in that Familia, but with her there it rules them out. Ishtar? Nah, even if the rumors are true they're worse than the Apollo Familia. Even if they need health potions and cures more than many other Familias, I doubt her band of courtesans, prostitutes, and outright sluts are strong enough to make full use of this.
It takes four seconds for a Hellhound to cast its fireball spell, and taking advantage of the split second is easy. The problem, of course, lies in the fact that two to three other Hellhounds will harass adventurers while a few others charge up. They're clever. However, they aren't smart. They always pounce at their target first. I weave between those pounces, then slit the throat of the one preparing the fireball. The monster's spell still building up, a quick kick launches the body undergoing Ignis Fatuus towards its fellows, and the conflagration kills the pack of Hellhounds.
Ouranos is the head of the Guild, and even though he says he has no Familia… well, someone with that much power, influence, and control over the Guild can get away with a lot of things. Some people actually believe that he has other gods working beneath him, and that many other Familias are actually his private, growing army. In the list of possible enemies he goes firmly in the middle! Besides that, he perfectly hits the common them of 'evil ruler in the shadows.' Soma is right out, I can't imagine those addicts managing to do anything useful or intelligent.
Another leap towards the depths, and the Dungeon changes from stone to something resembling crystal and pure limestone. Floor 16 or 17, just before the Middle Floor Dungeon Boss room. Though there was the chance the Goliath can spawn here, outside of the arena the Guild cordoned off to fight it at, I doubted that was the case. A Goliath would absolutely destroy the Monster Farm, so I was sure that I had nothing to fear from the Boss monster of the Middle Floors. Someone who invested this much money into this place wouldn't let something that powerful wreck it within a few days. Now where was that Dragon? Ah, there you are, you overgrown lizard. Tired? Don't worry, that'll end soon.
Now, for the most likely of suspects, Freya. A goddess of love and beauty… Orario's own Whore of Babylon. Heh, thanks English Literature. The woman whose had just about every male god there is, and has more than a dozen Level 5s in her retinue, four or five Level 6s, and the only Level 7 in existence. The amount of wealth, power, and influence she has at her disposal is… immense. Also, given her preference towards taking, in more ways than one, certain adventurers, and combining that with the note concerning Cranel… well, the Freya Familia is definitely at the top of the list of suspects.
A minotaur appears before me. In its hands is a landform weapon shaped vaguely like a halberd. Perfect. Over two times stronger and faster than an orc, they're minibosses in their own right. Unless, of course, you know how to fight them properly. Which I happen to.
Still, whether this place belonged to Ganesha, Ouranos, or Freya, there's no way in hell I'm leaving it standing. They fired the first shot by attacking, kidnapping, and trapping me in this deathtrap. Leaving this place untouched after everything would go against my honest sensibilities. Escaping meant that I'd be out of here quickly, and maybe keep some information about myself kept secret. However, that would mean that I lost. That they won, and that I was dancing to their tune.
I apply Empower and throw my stiletto straight towards its head. Thank you doubled maximized stats. You are the very best friend an adventurer can ask for. The accelerated projectile punctures its skull, the hardest part of its head, and lodges itself firmly in the Minotaur's brain. As it attempts to pry it out of its skull, roaring incessantly, it drops its landform halberd. I fetch said weapon, before directing Continuous Chain Lightning towards the pseudo-lightning rod. Water, Electricity, and Steel combine, as expected, and fry the beast's brain, overcoming its ridiculous durability with ease.
No way in Hell that's going to happen.
The Adolescent Dragon lands, curls its wings against its body, and cranes its neck to attack. Its claws can tear apart armor. However, I had no armor to worry about. Its limbs and jaws can break stone. But, I had no intention of letting it hit me. Surrounding it is an aura of heat that can kill a normal man in less than three seconds. Still, I'm far from normal, and had plenty of ability to heal myself. Its scales are resistant to magic and steel. Nonetheless, I had a very large, absurdly heavy, and ridiculously durable weapon that can overcome its defenses.
Right now? I'm not doing this because I wanted to get home. Somewhere along the line, as I ran through monster after monster, I simply got irritated. Irritation, at myself for getting myself into this situation, and risking my ability to get home. Slowly, that turned into anger at the insane god who wanted Cranel to be their personal toy. Naturally, given the fact Conscienta Strenuissium greatly enhanced my emotional states, it's no surprise that I had no intention of just surviving this trap. Just a side effect of my handy, beloved skill, really.
This facility obviously provided whoever kidnapped me with immense amounts of resources, so I'm going to destroy it. The little, delicate balance they managed to attain? I'm going to throw it off kilter, send it tumbling towards destruction, and show how stupid it was for them to even try this.
It's not the smart, clever, or even the right thing to do.
But, I'm going to do it anyway.
One way or another, I'm going to kill the fucking dragon in front of me, and I'm going to turn this entire Monster Farm into a burning, unsalvageable wreckage.
…
Interlude: The Lover
…
Years ago, walking amongst the destitute and downtrodden, I had searched for a gem. An honest, pure soul that strived for an honest, selfless goal. Hoping beyond all hope, I walked among the infirm, the childless, and the parentless searching for a spark of brilliance to call my own. A brilliant, transient soul to shape and form into magnificence. An innocence that can never be altered, that would always be mine.
Instead, I came across a man stumbling on the edge of insanity, clothed in dirty rags, and dying in an alley given wide berth. Curiosity led me astray from my path, and though the warmth of love born of charity did little for me, it did more than trysts and nights that pervade my existence. I ventured where no one else dared to go, offered my aid, and… I was firmly, solidly rejected.
"A bitch… taking advantage of the helpless?" Words that had never been aimed upon me by a mortal left his mouth in a weak whisper. His eyes looked upon me, yet there was no sign of lust or love. In them I saw absolute longing, irreconcilable anger, and unyielding will. Insane, half-starved, and exhausted… he saw through me and spat upon my face. "You make me sick. Do me a favor and go die."
No matter how I returned, the result was always the same. Nothing resulted in a different outcome. Food, money, and clothes were all cast aside. Any offered shelter, a single room, an entire home, and a villa were all rejected. No matter what smile, face, or personality… the rejection, the scathing words, and the same titles issued forth from his mouth.
Liar, trickster, fake, trash, and other degradations all came from him upon all my personas. No matter how kind, charitable, or personable… never did he accept anything I offered. He would accept copper coins covered in spittle, but not the gold I offered. Took to beneath porches instead of rooms or homes I purchased. Consumed scraps from gutters instead of food I'd made myself.
Days turned to weeks, and nothing I did progressed.
He drove me mad, and I lashed out upon him.
After I struck, a smile came upon his dirty, beaten face that stilled my heart.
"So, this is the real you." Slowly, his head lolled as he tried to keep conscious. However, I had been frozen by his smile and the chuckle that escaped his lips. He rose, took the sole, golden coin I offered him that day, and left me behind, kneeling and bloodied hands in the alley. "You always need to be loved? How sad. I should've pitied you from the start."
The next day he went into the dungeon and began his rise to success.
Instead of a pristine, growing, and transparent gem… I had come across a charred, unchanging, and chipped piece of metal.
Yet… yet…. Beneath it all was one part of what I had searched for, a single, shining piece made brighter by the hatred that surrounded it.
Adherence, reverence, and unflinching pursuit to the truth. No matter how painful the truth, or comfortable the lie, he would only accept, from himself and from others, what was undeniably, irrevocably, and completely… genuine.
Every spiteful word, angered growl, and dismissive gesture had been… true. Not borne of an addled, spiteful mind, but despite it.
Since our very first meeting, he demanded veracity and honesty.
I wanted, needed, had to have more of it.
More of his hatred, anger, and dismissal from him.
I needed him to loathe me, to spite me, and feel nothing but hatred for me.
That anger, loss of calm, and liberation of lashing out… I had to have more of it.
Days and weeks of denial of release, culminating in a single moment where he would once again smile, reject me, and leave me wanting, needing, and begging for more.
I never wanted it to become friendship, delight, or acceptance. He needed to continue showering me with his revulsion. I had to have it and more. I wanted him to leave me…
Stunned,
Breathless,
Insensate,
…and toss me aside.
That feeling of emancipation from lashing out, followed by the knowledge that I was well and truly reviled, unwanted, and detested… had been rapturous.
He needed to come after me, at the height of my power, and crush everything I held to my name. No more and no less, he had to annihilate all my protections, lay low my servants, and hold me at his mercy.
Just as I had struck against him after a few short weeks of spite, he needed to show me that I am nothing more than a pitiful, obsessed, and manic woman pleading for his attention.
He would be my Demon, and I, the princess alive only because of his benevolence.
Two years, I had watched in bated breath, gathering power instead of languishing in ennui as I had in previous years. I needed to be at my very best. To strike at him with all my might. Nothing less would do. If he defeated me at any less than the pinnacle of my ability, then everything I had done would be useless.
All the while he showed ruthlessness, cunning, and dedication beyond that of any other.
Clothes specially weighted to make him only as fast and strong as a normal man, even as he reached the full potential of a Level 1, worn at all times.
Techniques for both mind and body unseen across the world.
Mastery over magic, transcending the limiters normally placed upon those of his Rank, and only limited by his own investments.
Harvesting of the Dungeon with implacable, devastating efficiency. Curtailing of criminals with threats and beatings. A net of informants across Orario, deals with shopkeepers, and ears regarding caravans moving to and fro the city.
I took everything I saw of him, and used it upon my own Familia, and they grew in power by leaps and bounds.
"Freya-sama, forgive my intrusion." Ottar's voice brought me from my reverie. Ah, the first of my Familia. You've only grown stronger since you've adapted his methods. Once upon a time, that strength would've set my heart aflame, but all that remains are embers. Still, those embers are pleasant enough to warrant a smile. Besides, that newfound strength was borne of his cruelty and viciousness, so I adored it. "Cranel has taken the bait. He has charged into the dungeon, after Hikigaya."
Ah, yes, Bell Cranel. A mortal with no sign of distrust in his soul, the earnest, honest goal to become a hero, and whose life has been tempered with loneliness and melancholy. An orphan searching for a family. Unmarred by reality, growing in power, and ready to trust and believe in every person's goodness.
The innocent, pure, and unblemished soul that would soothe and rescue me. The balm to soothe the barbs, welts, and burns. The gentleness that I knew I could never get from Hikigaya, would all come from Cranel. Smiles, laughter, and gentle caresses… the very opposite of what I wanted from the other, he would give me.
Standing side-by-side, Hikigaya teaching Cranel, I could see the future that lay in store for me. One would give me his love and affection, and the other his hatred and anger. What I wanted against what I needed. The gentle purity bound by melancholy, accompanied by unrelenting adherence to an ideal borne of suffering… would be an elixir that would forever lock me into an eternal cycle of two extremes.
With the two of them, the flames of my heart will never cease, only to be brought to greater and greater heights.
Seeing them together, contrasting, interacting, and growing off one another… nearly had me break all pretenses and take them both.
However, I knew better.
Patience, planning, and preparation are the keys to the paradise I wanted.
"Oh?" It took me a moment to reply. I quelled the thoughts that threatened to overtake me. Still, as I spoke, I noticed that I was breathless. No matter. Ottar has beheld me in this state before. He had been its cause many times, as are all those from my Familia. "Has he called for aid?"
"None, Freya-sama." Ottar answered dutifully. Ah, his love is still as apparent today as it was when we first met. There is no jealously in his heart, to either of the two who have captured me so completely. My finest adventurer is as strong in love as he is on the battlefield. Still, the same can be said of all the strongest in my Familia. "Cranel has done as instructed, he has also used the grimoire we left for him to find, and the weapon made by Hephaestus is in his possession." Ottar's tone held a note of respect that made him all the more beautiful. "He will meet with the minotaur I have Tamed and armed, face his fear, and defeat it soundly."
"And what of the Loki Familia?" I inquired, even though I knew that my Familia would not fail me. "Will they arrive to see him safely?"
"Wallenstein, Alf, and Deimne are all near the Dungeon." Ottar reported without qualm. A part of me was thrilled to have so much information. All gods and goddesses adored gossip, but none ever thought to use it as a network. A few misbegotten strays paid with coin, bread, and lodgings suffice as eyes and ears across the entirety of the city. "Loga, the Hiryutes, and Landrock are all scouring areas close to the Guild-approved pathways. I have arranged it so that Hestia-sama shall contact them soon, and they shall bear witness to Cranel's feat."
"As they should, an Adventurer of hardly a month killing a minotaur… such a feat needs credible witnesses." The idea sent a shiver down my spine. I had not believed that such growth would be possible, even underneath Hikigaya's tutelage, but those who I had watching them both had my full trust. Undoubtedly, they had said, he had a skill that allowed him to grow at an exceptional rate. Cranel would've grown rapidly without Hikigaya, yet beneath him… there was no doubt in my mind that he was far stronger than anyone believed. After all, in his search for his teacher, he had cut his way to the Middle Floor only to be stopped by Wallenstein herself. "Hmmm… what of Hikigaya? How has he fared since his awakening?"
"Helun reported to me that Hikigaya has engaged the Adolescent Dragon in earnest."
"We awoke him from his slumber not even an hour ago." My heart stilled, my breath caught, but words still escaped my mouth. My body stood without my own volition, and I walked toward the mirror. I paid for its use with my own body, yet without hesitation I used its divine power to look upon the impossible man I had sealed into one of the first results of my affection for him. "How could he-."
He was burning alive.
Skin and outermost muscle burned.
The cloth shirt he wore was bound to him, fused upon his skin, and still alight.
Yet, he stood calm and composed, no trace of fear in his eyes, before a dragon already missing an eye and one of its limbs.
"His throat is burned, he cannot chant." Ottar's voice was distant. All I could do was look upon the man who caught me so completely. "The dragon will not allow him to imbibe the potions. How will he… ah, of course."
Hikigaya withdrew the pittance of medicine I had given him, held the twin glass vials of healing concoction, and crushed them both against his burned throat. Fresh blood was spilled from him, injuries caused by his own action, yet I watched as the lesser remedy acted with speed as quick as the finest.
"Too quick for even the monster to react to." Dull, faint words reached my ears. "The stray cuts from the glass will even send more of the elixir into the needed area."
Ottar's admiration was faint to my ears.
I could only watch, listen, and bear witness to the man who I wanted to absolutely and thoroughly conquer me.
Every word of his chant made my heart skip a beat and every step caused it to still.
My chest ached in yearning.
I could only hope for the blissful agony to last forever.
As his skin, flesh, and body mended under his own ministration, he strode implacably towards the enemy I had set upon him, and his eyes were gelid, savage, and adamant.
Ready to crush the enemy before him.
I needed those eyes upon me.