The successful first mission led to a second, more ambitious proposal: exploration of the Great Orcus Labyrinth.
The labyrinth was one of seven great dungeons scattered across Tortus—ancient structures created during the Age of Gods, filled with monsters, treasures, and mysteries. The upper floors were well-documented and relatively safe for trained parties. The deeper floors... no one knew how deep they went, or what waited in those depths.
Archbishop Eldrin announced the expedition during a morning assembly. "We're sending a group to explore floors one through five. You'll be accompanied by experienced guild adventurers who know the labyrinth. This is an opportunity to gain valuable experience and resources in a controlled environment."
Twenty students were selected. Naturally, all the top fighters made the list. Daisuke was included—his level 5 status and combat performance made him a solid mid-tier contributor. And Kura was included for his ore identification skills.
The party was led by Mira, a scarred woman who'd been exploring dungeons for fifteen years. She gathered everyone for a briefing the night before departure.
"The first five floors are straightforward," she said. "Goblins, wolves, maybe some low-level undead. The real dangers start around floor seven and below. We're not going that deep. This is a training run to familiarize you with dungeon exploration."
"What's the deepest anyone's gone?" Fujimoto asked.
"In Orcus? The record is floor 65. The party never came back from 66." Mira's expression was grim. "The labyrinth gets exponentially more dangerous as you descend. The upper floors are a joke compared to the deep ones."
They reached the labyrinth entrance two days later—a massive stone archway carved into the mountainside, covered in glowing runes. Beyond it lay darkness that felt deeper than it should.
"Stay in formation," Mira ordered. "No one wanders off. No one plays hero. We move as a unit."
The first floor was exactly as advertised—wide corridors, glowing crystal lights, weak goblin packs that the students dispatched easily. It felt almost disappointing.
"This is it?" Sakurai said after clearing another group. "This is the legendary labyrinth?"
"This is floor one," Mira replied flatly. "Don't get cocky."
Floors two and three were slightly harder. Dire wolves that attacked in coordinated packs. Stone golems that required sustained damage. But nothing the group couldn't handle.
Kura stayed in the protected middle, occasionally using his Ore Appraisal to identify valuable minerals in the walls. He found some interesting deposits—Azantium crystal, useful for magical artifacts. He carefully harvested samples.
During a rest period on floor three, Shirayuki approached him.
"How are you holding up?" she asked.
"Fine. Just staying out of the way."
"You're not in the way." She sat beside him. "You found that Azantium, right? Master Galhard will be thrilled. That's rare material."
"It's useful for weapon crafting."
"See? Useful." She smiled. "You always downplay what you do, Tomohiro-kun. Even back in school, you never took credit for your work."
There it was again—that reference to their old life, said with a familiarity that suggested she'd paid more attention to him than he'd ever realized.
"Why?" Kura asked before he could stop himself. "Why did you notice me back then? I was nobody. Still am."
Shirayuki's smile faltered, something genuine breaking through. "You're not nobody. You never were." She paused, seeming to wrestle with whether to say more. "Do you remember when Tanaka-sensei's daughter visited the school? The elementary student who got lost?"
Kura blinked. That was... two years ago? "Vaguely?"
"You found her in the library. She was crying because she couldn't find her father. You stayed with her, calmed her down, brought her to the office. You missed lunch and part of your next class."
"I... I guess?"
"I saw you," Shirayuki said softly. "I was in the library studying. I watched you talk to her, make her laugh, treat her with such gentle patience. Most people would have just brought her to a teacher. You made sure she was okay first." She looked down at her hands. "That's when I realized you saw people. Really saw them. Even a scared little girl everyone else would have rushed past."
Kura had no idea what to say. That incident had been nothing—just basic human decency.
"Ever since then," Shirayuki continued, "I noticed you. How you'd help classmates who dropped things without being asked. How you'd stay late to help teachers clean up. Small kindnesses you thought no one saw." She met his eyes. "I saw them."
The moment hung between them, fragile and significant.
"Shirayuki!" Kobayashi called from across the chamber. "Mira says we're moving out!"
"Coming!" Shirayuki stood, but paused. "I'm glad you're here, Tomohiro-kun. I'm glad you're safe."
She hurried off, leaving Kura sitting there, his mind spinning.
Two years. She'd been noticing him for two years because of one small act of kindness.
Across the chamber, Daisuke stood watching. He'd seen the whole conversation. His face was carefully blank, but his eyes were dark.
The expedition continued to floor five without incident. They camped there overnight, planning to ascend the next morning.
But in the darkness, as Kura lay in his bedroll, he heard voices.
Daisuke and Yamamoto, talking in low tones near the camp's edge.
"—waste of a spot," Daisuke was saying. "We could have brought another combat class instead."
"Kura does the repair work," Yamamoto replied. "That's useful."
"Any Synergist could do that. Hell, half the knights could do basic repairs. But everyone acts like he's special because the Saintess smiles at him."
"You're letting this get to you."
"She deserves better," Daisuke said, and there was raw emotion in his voice now. "She deserves someone strong. Someone who can actually protect her. Not some level 1 crafter who hides in the back while real fighters risk their lives."
"It's not a competition."
"Isn't it?" Daisuke's laugh was bitter. "We were summoned to be heroes. To save this world. What kind of hero can't even fight?"
The conversation drifted off as they moved away.
Kura stared at the dark ceiling, sleep impossible now.
This wasn't just jealousy.
This was hatred.