How to develop derivative abilities from "Heal" was the question Keyaru had to solve right now—but how to actually do it?
He didn't have a clear plan yet.
This was DanMachi, not the world of the Legendary Redo of Healer; the systems were wildly different.
From what he knew, the fastest way to get stronger in Orario was a grimoire—each one costing tens of millions. Beyond that—
You gained skills from your own experiences and specialties.
"If I follow DanMachi's rules… I used 'Heal' on myself, felt the target's experiences on a mental level, and then unlocked the skill 'Imitation'?"
Resting in the safe corridor between floors, he kept turning it over.
Magic can be learned quickly via grimoires, but it's like D&D spell slots—you can have at most three spells, and once learned you can't forget them.
Skills don't have those limits. With that in mind, a bold guess took shape:
"The essence of healing… is using mana to repair damaged cells. So what if I shift the mana's purpose from 'healing' to 'enhancing'?"
You can't explain mana with physics, but you can still approach the problem with modern logic.
It felt like the right answer was waving him over.
Man of action that he was, he checked the surroundings to make sure no adventurers were hiding nearby, then cast "Heal" on himself.
Soft light bloomed.
Fatigue vanished in an instant. The mana he hadn't spent fully seeped into his cells, lighting up his senses.
He tested his body—his energy surged, even higher than before he'd entered the Dungeon.
"This is the right track."
Arms, legs, even his head felt like they'd been micro-dosed with a stimulant—the feeling faded as the mana drained.
The brief feedback told him his stats had spiked.
"Transformation."
More precisely, a weaker version of Transformation.
By injecting mana into his body he could bump his overall capabilities in a small window—but it didn't change his actual stat values.
"I need to tighten this up—longer duration for 'Transformation,' bigger boost!"
The post-cast mana dizziness was still there.
That would be Heal's built-in limitation. He let it go. If anything, it gave him a clear roadmap:
Boost everything.
After a short rest, with his target set, he headed deeper.
Whatever showed up, he didn't let it walk—everything became whetstones for live-combat technique: dungeon lizards, kobolds, goblins, and so on. He lost count of the kills. Before moving to Floor 5, he gave his body a quick tune-up.
"As long as I don't hit the rookie-killer, this is fine."
He stayed sharp and pushed the floor—yet monsters were oddly scarce. The Dungeon respawns quickly; his gut told him something was off.
Right then, a slick of black far ahead wriggled toward him…
And settled into a shape.
Easy enough to describe: a pure-black shadow; a torso out of proportion; long arms ending in sharp hooked claws.
A War Shadow.
"Of course. Speak of the devil."
If he wasn't at least a little nervous facing the so-called "rookie-killer," he wouldn't believe himself. He had to be thorough.
First encounter—no idea how it attacked. He opened a safe gap.
And showed proper respect. Even if "Transformation" left him woozy afterward, he had to use it.
Respect for the killer—and a safeguard for getting out alive.
"Make it quick."
Buff applied, his mind went cool. He watched the shadow. War Shadows have no brains to speak of—pure instinct. Kill every adventurer you meet. That's a monster's base logic.
Its ungainly body moved in a weird lope—but the closing speed was nothing to sneeze at. Claws raised high, it came to rend him.
Without "Transformation," it would be rough.
Buffed head-to-toe as he was now? "Needs more practice."
His trained instincts took over—he slipped past the strike, drove forward off a bow step, and nailed the weakness: after a whiff, the recovery left its arms wide. He cut across with an iai-style sweep—
The edge tore through; the War Shadow split at the waist. The black form powdered away, leaving a deep violet magic stone—and a drop besides:
War Shadow Claw.
"Unexpected bonus."
The fight ended even faster than he'd expected. Given Mikoto's notes on his technique, it made sense: what he lacked were raw stats.
He bagged the loot and kept combing the floor until his restored stamina was truly spent.
No pushing past the limit.
He pulled out. You can hunt for your limits during daily training, but not in the Dungeon. One slip and you're done for.
He followed the half-remembered path upward, climbed the spiral from the Path of Beginnings to the surface, and stepped out of Babel.
After so long in the dim Dungeon, Orario's sunset stabbed at his eyes. The plaza was full of adventurers returning from their dives. He fell in with the flow.
"Next up—time to cash out."
Magic stones and drops could be exchanged for valis at the Guild, or haggled over in the free market. Keyaru hated the hassle; the price difference wasn't huge, and time was worth more.
At the Guild, he knew the exchange process—Eina had explained it. Catching sight of the half-elf slacking in the corner, he changed his mind.
No one refuses a considerate half-elf beauty, and he was no exception. He didn't cross into DanMachi just to act like a monk.
Sensing his eyes, the uniformed girl with round glasses—unique charm and all—looked up at the brown-haired boy.
Keyaru, the new Hestia child.
She pressed a gloved index finger to her lips—shh—then waved him over. When he reached the lounge, her smile was fresh and bright.
"Looks like you've settled into being an adventurer quickly, Mr. Keyaru. Congratulations on a successful first dive!"
~~~
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