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They pressed close to the stone wall, crouching behind a pile of wooden crates that seemed to serve as temporary storage. The torch in the main corridor cast a faint light on their faces, enough to see by, but not sufficient to make them visible. Shirou signaled with his finger—quiet—and Ryuu nodded, holding her breath.
Echoing sounds came from the vast room ahead.
"Geez, this meeting is taking forever. I wanna grab a drink soon," complained a bandit in a lazy tone.
"Then why don't we just hold the meeting while drinking wine? Hahaha!" another replied loudly.
Sounds of raucous laughter erupted among them. Loud, vulgar, and utterly disrespectful— that bounced off the walls like the sound of mindless beasts.
Ryuu frowned, her expression twisting as if holding back vomit. Shirou simply stared straight ahead, his expression cold as steel.
The group continued joking, their voices growing coarser.
"Hahaha! Great idea! Get drunk during the meeting!"
"Oh man, you're all idiots," muttered another voice.
But their laughter cut off abruptly when a heavy voice—deep, rumbling—sliced through the conversation like a sword.
"We'll wait for Jura another hour. If he doesn't come..." A brief, tense pause. "...the meeting is adjourned."
Shirou tensed. Ryuu immediately gritted her teeth, her hand gripping her sword scabbard so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Because that voice...
There was no way she could forget it.
Just one hearing, and she could sense the authoritative tone of a god. Something not of a mortal being. Something carrying both dignity and arrogance.
"Rudra..." Ryuu whispered low, almost a hiss.
Shirou glanced at her, seeing the simmering anger in the elf's eyes—not a blazing fire, but cold, sharp, like ice ready to pierce.
Ahead of them, the voice of the god echoed again, rumbling like thunder in the cave.
"If that fool ran away... You know what to do."
Shirou and Ryuu exchanged a look.
Shirou leaned slightly forward, his whisper almost swallowed by the torch's echo. "Ryuu... what is Rudra really like?"
Ryuu didn't answer immediately. She took a slow breath, her gaze fixed on the orange light illuminating the cave floor. "That god... isn't the type to rule with an iron fist. He lets his members do anything as long as it amuses him." Her voice was low, containing disgust she couldn't hide. "Rudra never steps in himself... but he never stops their cruelty either."
The word "lets" stuck in his mind. Shirou narrowed his eyes. So... he doesn't interfere directly. If he only watches—doesn't act—then...
"Does that mean he won't interfere if we attack his members?" Shirou whispered, his eyes narrowing as he considered the opening.
Ryuu turned, confused. "You mean... join the fight? Shirou, that's impossible. God can't fight. As far as I know, only the goddess Artemis and the god Takemikazuchi can intervene, and that's because of their combat skills."
Shirou shook his head quickly. "No. That's not what I meant." He leaned in a little, his voice growing even quieter. "I'm asking... will he use divine will?"
Ryuu fell silent for a moment—the question was odd, even for Shirou. But she answered slowly.
"Divine will...?" Ryuu shook her head while exhaling slowly. "I don't think so. Almost all gods avoid that. Not because they can't..." She looked into the distance, remembering something. "But because, for them, it's not fun. Not entertaining. Divine will is too direct, too easy. No game, no drama."
Shirou could sense the irony in her tone. That explanation confirmed what Loki had once told him.
Ryuu continued quietly, "When I destroyed the members of Rudra Familia before... even when everything was drenched in blood... Rudra just sat there. Watched. As if enjoying a show."
Shirou swallowed the rising bitterness in his throat.
So that's his nature—a god who treats the suffering of others as nightly entertainment.
Shirou leaned his body slightly, shifting his position behind the pile of crates. Slowly, he peeked through a narrow gap between the wooden planks—and for the first time, he saw the figure of the god Rudra clearly.
Among the crowd of bandits, a tanned-skinned man sat casually as if the entire world were merely a stage for his amusement. His hair was short and neat, while a faded-colored toga draped his upper body, paired with light-colored pants that seemed mismatched yet somehow still exuded the exotic aura typical of gods.
Shimmering accessories adorned him—a white bracelet on his right wrist, circular earrings reflecting the torchlight, and a necklace with a red socket that seemed to pulse softly like embers fanned by wind. Even his face was made up with a hint of blue on his eyelids, adding to the impression that he was more suited for a theater stage than leading a criminal group.
Shirou observed, his breathing slowing to a deliberate, sharp rhythm. That figure didn't look like a god of war or a brutal oppressor. No anger, no seriousness—only a god who enjoyed the chaos created by his underlings, sitting and waiting for the next show to begin.
And the longer Shirou observed, the more his resolve hardened.
Rudra suddenly moved his head slightly, his golden pupils glancing directly toward the pile of crates where Shirou and Ryuu were hiding. As if he sensed the wave of emotion emanating from behind the shadows—anger, hatred, and unmistakable, thick resolve.
The corner of the god's lips lifted, forming a thin smile more akin to mockery than friendliness.
"Hmm..." He clapped his hands slowly, tap... tap... the sound light yet echoing in the cave. "It seems we have uninvited guests."
The previously noisy atmosphere changed instantly, like a candle doused with water. The Rudra Familia bandits stopped laughing and looked around nervously, some standing while gripping their weapons. A shout came from one of the rough-bearded men, "Whoever is hiding, come out now!"
Ryuu tensed, but Shirou placed a hand on her shoulder briefly—a quick gesture asking for permission and also apologizing.
"...Sorry, Ryuu. This is my fault."
Without waiting for an answer, Shirou stepped out from behind the crates. His steps were firm; no reason to hide anymore. Why wear a mask when that god was already staring directly at his face? Even if he projected it now, everything was too late.
The torchlight in the room reflected the red of his hair, causing some bandits to whisper—an unfamiliar name, a face they didn't recognize.
Rudra rested his chin on the back of his hand, as if appraising a newly discovered antique. His eyes narrowed, not from threat, but from an insincere curiosity.
"A new face..." he murmured. "And seems quite interesting." The god gave a small nod, then gestured casually, as if ordering a servant.
"Introduce yourself, red-haired boy. It would be more polite, wouldn't it?"
Shirou looked directly into the god's eyes—a gaze that hid a storm behind its calmness.
"My name is Shirou," he said calmly, his voice neither raised nor lowered. "I'm just an adventurer who's been trying my luck in the Dungeon for a few months. I got lost earlier... and happened to find my way here."
Ryuu, still hiding behind the wooden crates, almost facepalmed. Half-truth again... always like this... She gritted her teeth silently. Shirou wasn't lying outright, but he always chose the parts easiest for the enemy to swallow. However, what truly made Ryuu want to pinch his neck was the big question: would that work on a god?
The answer came faster than expected.
Rudra let out a small laugh, a light chuckle sounding like someone who'd just received simple entertainment. "Oh... just a few months?" He nodded—not suspicious, but rather believing. "So, a newbie. Level one, right?"
Ryuu froze for a moment.
Fooled...? Even a god?
For a second, she almost stepped out of hiding just to smack Shirou's head because that ridiculous trick actually succeeded.
Once Rudra made that assumption, the bandits collectively breathed a sigh of relief, as if a great burden had fallen from their shoulders. Voices of mockery began to rise.
"Hah! A brat!"
"Level one strayed into our nest? Hahaha! Damn, this is funnier than your joke earlier, Don!"
"Bold enough to come alone, don't you have a brain?"
"Lost, he says! Hah! You're dead later!"
The tense atmosphere turned into a cheap arena of ridicule, the bandits' laughter bouncing off the cave walls. They saw Shirou not as a threat, but as free entertainment during their meeting night.
Rudra himself just watched, placing an elbow on his knee, chin resting on his hand, as if wanting to see what the red-haired boy would do next.
Meanwhile, Shirou just took a slow breath—not angry, not reacting.
Good.
Let them underestimate.
An enemy who doesn't anticipate danger is the easiest enemy to bring down.
Rudra raised an eyebrow, his smile thin but clearly containing interest. "So, brat... what's your purpose coming into my place? It's rare for a puny level one kid to wander around this area."
Shirou remained standing straight, his gaze unchanged. "No particular purpose. I... was just curious about Rudra Familia."
That answer hung ambiguously—exactly as he intended.
A group of bandits immediately stirred.
"Oh? Curious, he says."
"The new kid wants to join?"
"Ooh, ooh, a prospective member!"
Suddenly, the atmosphere changed into a small circus show.
"Well then, we need to welcome him! There must be hazing!" one of them blurted out, laughing.
"Let me handle this," said a rough-bearded bandit, his body large and the smell of wine wafting even from a distance. His bleary eyes swept over Shirou from head to toe—not with the gaze of a fighter, but something dirtier, more lewd.
Shirou felt something crawl up his spine. Disgust. What kind of person has morals this rotten? He almost reflexively took a short breath to hold back nausea, but his face remained flat.
"Hahaha! Beardy's at it again!"
"He does like 'em young!"
"Don't tell me he'll—"
Their dirty laughter echoed in the cave ceiling. Even Rudra, the god, joined in laughing while slapping his knee, amused by his subordinate's behavior.
But the laughter was cut short.
SHHWP—THUD!
A thrown knife embedded itself right in the bearded man's neck. Blood spurted in a thin fountain, and the large body slumped to the ground without uttering a word.
All the bandits froze.
They turned their heads toward the source of the throw.
It wasn't Shirou's doing.
Ryuu stepped out from behind the pile of crates, her green cloak fluttering in the cave's draft. Her sapphire eyes were dim, cold as ice coated with vengeance.
"You all are disgusting," she said, her voice low yet each syllable slicing through the air like a sharp blade.
The previously chaotic room instantly plunged into a stone-like silence. Shirou stepped forward slightly, ready if all the bandits jumped at once, but Ryuu didn't seem to need help.
She stood like an angel of death who had just announced her arrival.
Rudra raised an eyebrow as he watched the green-cloaked figure step into the torchlight. His smile widened, as if welcoming an old friend to a party that had turned chaotic.
"Ryuu Lion..." he said slowly, almost nostalgically. "It's been a long time. Feels like a reunion, doesn't it?"
But for his bandits, it wasn't a reunion—it was a sign of doom.
"Ga... Gale Wind?!"
"She's here?! Then what about Jura?!—"
"Jura! He must be dead! Damn it!"
Sudden panic faded from their faces, replaced by raw fear. Some began to back away, some drew their weapons, and the rest shouted aimlessly.
Ryuu gave no explanation.
No elegant words.
No announcement.
Just attack.
She shot forward, Alvs Lumina drawn, a wooden sword that seemed harmless—yet in the hands of the Gale Wind, it transformed into a weapon of punishment sharper than steel.
WHOOSH!
Her horizontal swing cut through the air—and something denser.
One bandit who tried to block with a large axe screamed as his axe split like a toy, and CRUNCH! His arm was severed, falling to the floor with a sickening sound.
"GYAAA—!"
"Rush her! Kill her before she—"
They didn't get to finish the sentence.
Projectile arrows, thrown knives, and even spiked iron balls shot toward Ryuu in a rain of metal.
But the elf's body moved as if reading their attacks before they were launched.
ZIP!
She weaved to the left.
THUD!
Leapt onto the wall, rebounded, slamming into two bandits at once.
CRACK!
One's facial bones shattered under her blow.
One by one, they fell, unable to match the speed, strength, or hatred flowing in Ryuu's every movement. Groans, thuds of falling bodies, and clangs of broken weapons filled the cave.
Meanwhile—
Shirou stood at the entrance, making sure no one escaped, one hand holding a projected sword, his eyes watching every gap, intent on stopping anyone trying to slip away.
And far behind, sitting casually as if watching a theater play
The god Rudra crossed his legs, his chin propped on his hand, witnessing the slaughter with a satisfied smile.
"Beautiful," he murmured. "Truly beautiful."
Some bandits, realizing they couldn't win against Ryuu, tried to save themselves. A shout from one of them echoed loudly in the cave.
"RUN! SHE CAN'T CHASE ALL OF US! HURRY!"
That directive was like a trigger.
Dozens of pairs of feet ran in all directions, circling Ryuu, trying to use their numbers to break through. They believed that strategy would work—a foolish belief born of panic.
"What level four... she's just a skinny elf!"
"Just get out first—!"
But Ryuu didn't block them.
She simply stood in the middle of the room, slightly twirling her sword, as if gauging its balance.
Utterly relaxed.
Seeing that opportunity, they grew even more confident.
"THIS BRAT IS JUST LEVEL ONE, BEAT HIM UP!"
But the moment their feet touched the outside of the hideout—
SLASH!
THUD!
CRACK!
Screams echoed one after another.
Bodies that had just passed the entrance were cut down within seconds. Arms flew into the air, legs separated from torsos, some leaving only the torso as they fell to the ground. No one had time to see how they died.
Because the cause wasn't Ryuu.
It was Shirou.
Standing at the entrance, his projected sword dripping with thick red blood. Expressionless, without hesitation, he pulled the sword from the last body that tried to flee.
"No one," he said flatly, "is allowed to leave."
The silence that followed those words felt far more lethal than the blood flowing on the ground.
The surviving bandits inside the cave trembled with fear.
Not at Ryuu—they already knew her reputation.
But at the red-haired youth, they had earlier assumed was level one.
While they were terrified, Rudra crossed his arms and whistled softly, as if appraising the sword technique he had just witnessed.
"Just a few months wandering in Orario... and already reaching that level," he murmured, his tone clearly entertained. "Interesting. Very interesting."
One of the Rudra Familia men, closest to a dark corner of the cave, suddenly moved in panic. With trembling hands, he yanked off the dirty cloth covering a large cage attached to the stone wall. The iron screeched loudly as he opened its bars.
From within emerged a monster figure that instantly made the air tense.
An Infant Dragon—but not an ordinary one.
Its scales were dark green, its eyes red like burning embers, and around its neck was a black iron choker, full of tiny engravings emitting a faint glow. An irregular monster forced into submission.
The creature growled, Grrrrrraaahhh...!
Not a wild growl, but a restrained one... forced.
The man pointed a command toward the dragon's neck and shouted, "ATTACK! CLEAR A PATH FOR US!"
The iron choker vibrated—tik tik tik—then shocked the dragon.
The Infant Dragon howled in pain and immediately leapt out of the cage like an animal released from its chain.
FWOOSH!
A blast of green fire split the air toward whoever stood closest.
Rudra... just laughed.
He tilted his body, casually stepped to the left, the fire passing a few centimeters from his face as if it were just ordinary hot wind.
"Be careful not to burn your own master," he said in a mocking tone to his subordinate.
The bandits knew the dragon couldn't possibly defeat Shirou or Ryuu.
But panic made them foolish—at least they hoped for an opening, a little distraction, a little chaos.
But the opposite happened.
Ryuu only glanced at Shirou briefly.
A small movement—almost imperceptible—but Shirou understood.
A nod.
A simple gesture meaning "I'll handle the rest."
Without words, they divided the task.
Ryuu shot off like a dark wind, chasing bandits trying to flee on the other side of the cave—fwhip!—vanishing from sight.
Meanwhile, Shirou stepped forward to face the Infant Dragon, preparing to attack again.
He raised his hand.
Prana glowed.
A pale blue light solidified in his grasp.
"Trace—on."
In an instant, a magic sword of ice materialized. The air around Shirou grew cold with mist.
Without waiting for the dragon to move its head, Shirou swung and—
Ckrrrrrrr—KRAAANG!!
The blade cracked, then shattered into thousands of sharp ice fragments that shot out like a rain of pale blue projectiles. Each fragment flowed along a trajectory, striking the Infant Dragon's body in rapid succession.
JRAK! JRAK! JRAK!
The dragon roared in pain, the fire in its throat extinguished instantly by the freezing assault that paralyzed its internal blood flow. Its wings became encased in ice, its front legs trapped by frost crystals beginning to creep across the floor.
The ice enveloping the Infant Dragon's body finally reached its magic stone core; the infant dragon convulsed, its body stiffened, then cracked from within. Within seconds, the fragments of ice and green scales collapsed together—crkk—shhh!—before its entire body turned into fine ash that drifted away, swept by the damp wind from within the cave.
The atmosphere of the Rudra Familia hideout became a nightmare, both frozen and scorched. The cave walls were covered with ice shards still emitting a cold aura, while on the other side remained the remnants of the Infant Dragon's green fire that blackened the stones. The smell of blood, smoke, and damp air mixed into one.
The bodies of Rudra Familia members lay scattered everywhere.
Some were cleanly severed, some flung into corners of the cave, some still frozen in Shirou's ice.
All the result of Ryuu's rampage and Shirou blocking the exit without giving anyone a chance to escape.
Only one remained standing.
The god Rudra.
Instead of angry or afraid, he seemed... entertained.
Leaning casually against a large rock behind him, his arms folded, his chin slightly raised as if appraising a satisfying theater performance.
"Magnificent," he murmured while clapping slowly, tap... tap... tap...
"You two are truly on a different level compared to the trash working for me."
Ryuu, still holding her blood-stained wooden sword, hissed softly. "No one wants to hear praise from a god like you."
Rudra let out a short laugh, his neck tensing slightly as if he enjoyed that anger. "Of course, of course. But before I leave, how about we... chat for a bit? It's rare for mortal beings to catch my interest enough."
Ryuu tightened her grip on her sword, her shoulders tense, not wanting to waste time.
But Shirou stepped forward.
He stared directly at Rudra, his eyes cold, full of resolve.
There was something he needed to know. Something only a being untouched by morals or guilt could answer—a god who let evil persist in the name of entertainment.
"Alright," Shirou said slowly.
"I will talk with you."
Ryuu turned quickly, disapproving, but Shirou took another half-step forward—looking directly into Rudra's eyes.
And he asked the question that had been haunting his mind.