Looking at the awkwardly smiling Fron, the goddess squinted her divine eyes. Even he could tell from the curve of her lips that the number one troublemaker in the heavens was cooking up some mischief.
"Hehehe, well said. This Orario isn't exactly peaceful, there's always some trash or scumbag god trying to stir up trouble."
The goddess let out a sly laugh and slapped Fron's shoulder hard.
As expected, when gods who had lived for who-knows-how-many ages schemed, it was not something the kids down here could handle.
Then, Fron smiled meaningfully along with her.
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A grand welcome banquet was held in the dining hall of the "Twilight Pavilion"—to welcome a new family member.
In the large cafeteria that could seat 50 people, Fron stood beside Loki, smiling as he was introduced to everyone by the main god.
"Everyone! This is our new Familia member, our new family. As for his name—"
"My name is Fron Argon. Everyone can just call me Fron. I look forward to your guidance in the future."
After speaking, Fron bowed respectfully in gratitude.
With a "thud," Loki climbed onto a stool, her leather boots stomping on the table as she raised a wine cup high, showing off the wild demeanor of a drunken maniac and taking the lead in going crazy.
"Alright then, everyone drink your hearts out!!!!"
"Wooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!"
What happens when the main god leads the drinking?
In an instant, the entire hall erupted in excitement.
As the main guest of the banquet, Fron naturally couldn't escape being forced to drink in turns.
Unfortunately, his alcohol tolerance was average at best—since he rarely drank, he couldn't handle it when suddenly hit like this.
After all, everything takes getting used to.
By the time he regained consciousness, he was already in a brand-new room.
Sunlight streamed down from the endless blue sky, filtering through the cracks in the curtains and falling on his face.
The golden-haired youth, still in a stupor, was awakened by this slightly glaring discomfort and twitched his eyelids.
A strange ceiling, unfamiliar bedding, an unfamiliar environment—everything was new, yet unlike before, it felt grounded.
As he gradually regained clarity, he lay motionless, emptying his mind and enjoying the peace.
Recalling broken memories, a bitter smile appeared on Fron's lips.
"Haven't had a hangover like this in a long time."
Rubbing his still-throbbing forehead, he slowly sat up.
Gulp, gulp, gulp.
He picked up the water cup someone had presumably prepared for him, silently gave thanks in his heart, and drank it all in one go. Only then did his parched, uncomfortable throat feel a little better.
"What a nightmare! But—my new life starts today."
He gave his face a few strong slaps and got up to get dressed.
He carefully washed up, scrubbing away all the smell of alcohol.
He put on the same black linen shirt and trousers, leather boots, and a cheap belt pouch.
He threw on his cloak from the coat rack, ruffled his bedhead a bit, and stepped out.
Before leaving, he glanced around the simple room. Recalling the advice from the senior who managed logistics, an important matter he had thrown to the back of his mind returned.
"Do I have to furnish my own room? That's all money."
Shaking his head to toss the worry aside, Fron focused on more pressing matters.
Following his hazy memories, he passed through a quiet corridor and walked down the stairs to the second-floor dining hall.
"Yo, newbie! You okay?"
"Uh, still... still okay."
The person who greeted him was one of the members who had poured him drinks the night before.
As for their name, he had no idea.
"Heading to the guild to register as an adventurer today?"
After preparing a simple breakfast—one baguette, a fried egg, a glass of milk, and a small bowl of vegetable salad—he sat with the senior in a corner to enjoy the meal.
"Yeah. Everything needs money, whether it's weapons, gear, or supplies. The sooner I can enter the dungeon, the sooner I can start earning."
A member sitting diagonally across teased with a smile:
"Very clear goal, that's good. But newbie, be careful when you go into the dungeon. Even if you have divine blessings and become stronger, never act recklessly. Get used to the 1st and 2nd floors first before you begin exploring."
"Yeah, I understand."
"As long as you know. Some arrogant adventurers lose themselves in the surge of power and recklessly venture into floors beyond their limits, ending up dead."
Someone as naturally cautious as him, who was still in survival mode, wasn't about to dive deeper—even as a joke.
After settling his stomach, Fron hadn't seen his god since leaving the "Twilight Pavilion." With a bit of reflection, he could guess the reason—she probably drank too much and was sleeping in. After all, she's a god; being willful is their privilege.
He walked through a brick-paved courtyard, greeted the member guarding the gate, and followed the path through a beautifully landscaped garden. He quickly left the sparsely populated high-end residential district and appeared on Northwest Main Street.
Standing at the intersection of the small path and the main street, he was immediately hit by the dense noise and bustle.
Northwest Main Street is generally also called the "Adventurers' Street," and in this labyrinth city, it gathers the largest crowds of adventurers.
Including the headquarters of the management organization of the city—or rather, the dungeon—called the "Guild," countless essential shops for adventurers such as weapon shops, item shops, and inns line the street in close succession.
If you take a slight turn off the main street and walk into the back alleys, you'll also find them packed with old and strange shops. Among them, you can even find those creepy-looking "witch's cottages."
Because it was still early, just past eight and not yet nine, according to the introduction of that unnamed senior, this time period is when most adventurers are preparing to head into the dungeon, so this adventurers' street is filled with crowds of people getting ready to explore the labyrinth.
Just glancing casually at the street, you could easily spot some orc warriors with great swords on their backs entering weapon shops, and beautiful female elf magicians busily coming and going from item shops.
Of course, the most eye-catching were those supporters carrying enormous backpacks.
Supporters are a very special profession. They prepare spare weapons, equipment, and supplies for adventurers, are responsible for collecting the magic stones and dropped items after battles, and even use tools like bows, crossbows, and traps to provide combat support—it's extremely demanding.
Due to combat strength issues, the nature of the profession determines their social status.
Fron also understood this knowledge, but during dungeon exploration, adventurers and supporters are complementary existences. Without either, things would go badly—especially starting from the middle floors.
Unfortunately, the world isn't simply black or white, and human nature is something even the gods cannot fully comprehend.
It's precisely because of this that the gods of the heavens are fascinated by the ever-changing and colorful lower world, isn't it?
Shaking his head to stop thinking about such things, since he was still a rookie.
Finding his target, he headed straight for a tall building.
A house made entirely of white megaliths, its surface adorned with beautiful reliefs, looking just like a sacred temple.
The Adventurers' Guild, also the administrative body of the city and dungeon, was founded by the first god to descend, Ouranos.
Everything here is closely tied to adventurers, the dungeon, and even Orario itself. To put it plainly, it's like the ruling authority of Orario.
He looked up at the building for a while, feeling awe in his heart. Then, he followed the crowd into the spacious hall of the Guild headquarters.
Standing there, the first thing that caught his eye was a massive bulletin board packed with people.
Various adventurer commissions are usually posted on it.
The commission contents are diverse and varied, dazzling to look at.
For example, collecting some materials or dropped items, investigating certain incidents, or even going into the dungeon to search for missing or uncontactable members of a Familia.
There's also information about the dungeon itself, such as the respawn time of a "Floor Boss" posted at the top, or announcements about "irregularities" occurring on certain floors.