The eleventh floor greeted the travelers with an entirely different, otherworldly landscape. The gloomy cavern vaults of the upper levels gave way to the illusion of an endless, open space. Underfoot, the ash-white, phosphorescent ground crunched softly, with bare, twisted trunks of dead trees jutting out here and there. But the defining feature of this zone was the haze. A thick, milky-white fog blanketed the ground, reducing visibility beyond fifteen meters to practically zero. This place was known as a graveyard for rookies who dared venture into the middle floors without proper preparation — and for good reason.
Rein walked with a measured, soft stride, his senses sharpened to the limit. Suddenly, the veil of fog to his right stirred almost imperceptibly.
The blade of his dark sword slid halfway out of its scabbard with a dry click. A short, ringing block — and an invisible projectile shot from the haze screeched back into the mist.
A monster landed in front of Rein. Dazzling white fur, bloodshot ruby eyes, and a long horn on its forehead, sharp as a stiletto. An Al-Miraj. The infamous horned rabbit of the middle floors, whose speed was directly proportional to its adorable appearance.
Having failed its ambush, the monster had no intention of retreating. Its hind legs thrust powerfully against the white earth, and the fluffy ball of death lunged forward. At the last moment, the rabbit coiled like a spring and leaped, aiming its horn directly at the man's heart.
But Rein had already read the trajectory. A short, precise sidestep removed him from the line of attack. Before the monster could fly past, the young man's hand shot forward like a snake. A firm grip — and the Al-Miraj hung in the air, helplessly kicking its legs, firmly caught by its long ears.
He brought the struggling creature closer to his face, examining it with mild irony. Yesterday at camp, their party had had a good laugh over how much Bell resembled this particular monster. "White hair, red eyes… There is indeed a resemblance," Rein noted philosophically to himself, watching the rabbit furiously snap its teeth, trying to reach his fingers. "But my friend definitely doesn't have such a maniacal desire to pierce my chest. So Bell is definitely cuter."
"Master Rein," came a quiet, tense voice from behind him. Liliruca. "Please, be more serious."
The young man glanced sideways. The Pallum girl stood a few steps behind, warily scanning their surroundings.
"Yesterday, you were with a large group, and there was time to fool around," Lili continued, her voice carrying not a trace of her former fake timidity — only the cold pragmatism of survival. "But today there are only two of us. The fog conceals scents and sounds. Please, do not let them get that close."
Rein sighed internally, acknowledging her point. There was nothing to argue — she was saying absolutely the right things, and losing vigilance in the Dungeon because of nostalgic thoughts was unforgivable stupidity.
"Fair," he replied curtly.
His fingers loosened. The Al-Miraj plopped onto the pale ground and instantly regrouped, preparing to leap back into the fog. But Rein's steel-plated boot descended faster, crushing the horned head into the paving stones with a wet crunch. The rabbit's body convulsed and crumbled into gray ash.
That crunch served as a trigger.
The fog ten meters away from them suddenly exploded into a whirlwind. The ground heaved, breaking apart in large slabs, and three massive figures burst forth with a guttural, swine-like squeal. Orcs. Enormous, humanoid hulks over three meters tall, covered in coarse bristles and bulging cords of muscle, blocked their path.
"Get back," Rein said, fully drawing his sword.
Lili didn't need to be told twice. She instantly darted behind the wide trunk of a dead tree, blending into the landscape. A quiet metallic click reached Rein — the girl had instinctively cocked the miniature wrist-mounted crossbow. With her current employer, she was unlikely to need it, but the paranoia ingrained to her very bones dictated its own rules.
The largest of the orcs, spotting Rein, let out a battle roar. Taking a step toward the nearest dead tree, the monster wrapped its massive arms around the trunk and, with terrifying force, ripped it from the ground, roots and all. The Dungeon's wood immediately adapted to its new master, transforming into a crude but deadly club. Its two kin, armed only with their own fists, lumbered heavily after it.
Rein calmly settled into his stance, lowering his center of gravity slightly.
The leader approached first. Gripping the trunk with both hands, the orc brought it crashing down with a roar, intent on flattening the insolent human into a pulp. Rein did not attempt to block this mass. He took a smooth half-step backward.
The gigantic club slammed into the white earth with a deafening boom exactly where the young man had stood a second ago, throwing up clods of dirt.
Not giving the orc time to regain balance or raise its weapon, Rein surged forward. His boot landed heavily on the fallen log; his second step landed on the monster's thick forearm. Ignoring the laws of gravity, the old master ran up the swine-like giant's arm. Reaching the level of its grotesque face, Rein executed a perfect horizontal slash.
The orc's head, cleanly severed along the jawline, flew from its shoulders.
Not waiting for the headless body to start collapsing into ash, Rein pushed off its chest with his boot, altering his trajectory mid-flight, and landed directly in front of the second monster.
Snapping out of its shock at its leader's death, the orc swung a fist the weight of a boulder at him. Rein smoothly dropped low, letting the crushing blow pass over his head, and, ending up beside the creature, severed the thick knee tendon with a short, whip-like cut of his sword.
The swine-man howled and crashed down onto one knee. Using the momentum of his own movement, Rein spun on the spot and drove his blade directly into the monster's temple in a spinning strike, killing it instantly.
One remained. The third orc, whose meager intellect was just enough to assess the speed of its kin's slaughter, turned in panic. Squealing, it bolted, attempting to vanish into the concealing fog.
"You're not getting away," Rein thought coldly.
He reversed his grip on the sword's hilt, holding it like a throwing spear. In the same instant, his will latched onto the element. The space around the blade distorted. Streams of wind coiled around the dark steel, compressing and gaining momentum, turning the sword into something resembling a roaring, invisible drill.
He threw.
The blade tore from his hand, ripping through the fog with the sound of a jet-powered projectile. The sword plunged precisely into the fleeing orc's broad back. The wind rotating around the blade released its kinetic energy, literally drilling a hole the size of a melon clean through the monster's torso. The orc fell dead, instantly crumbling into dust.
Rein didn't move from his spot. He simply opened his palm, and a fresh, gentle gust of obedient wind caught the sword as it fell from the cloud of ash, gently returning it to its master's hand. A dry click — and the blade vanished into its scabbard.
The entire fight had taken less than ten seconds.
"Lili?" the young man called evenly, signaling that the zone was clear.
The petite figure emerged from behind the tree and, without a word, headed to collect the magic crystals.
Rein leaned his shoulder against a dead trunk, thoughtfully observing his support as she methodically, with cold professionalism, gutted the piles of ash. The fact that Lili had stopped putting on an act and no longer pretended to be a cheerful idiot undoubtedly pleased him. But her current state… troubled him.
She was acting like a broken mechanism. Lili was clearly at a crossroads, lost and confused, not knowing how to behave with a person who didn't fit into her picture of a cruel world. Rein waited patiently, expecting that after their conversation yesterday, she would ask for help herself. But, by all appearances, he wouldn't be getting any initiative from a child frightened half to death.
His thoughts returned to the Soma Familia. This morning, before the descent, he had managed to drop by Miach's under the pretext of buying potions and had cautiously questioned him, and even earlier — Hestia. Alas, neither god knew anything concrete. They all agreed on one thing: Soma was obsessed exclusively with brewing his divine wine and couldn't care less about what transpired within his faction.
"Divine hooch that drives mortals insane…" A dark, half-joking thought flashed through Rein's mind. "With my immunity to stress, I'm actually curious what it tastes like."
He immediately pushed the thought away, returning to reality. The girl, her bag full of spoils, was walking silently back toward him, her head bowed. Her submissiveness and lack of emotion were beginning to seriously grate on his nerves. Fine if it were mere resignation, but this slavish obedience…
"Ahhh, I've had enough," the old master exhaled in irritation, peeling himself off the tree trunk.
Enough waiting. If she couldn't take the first step to save herself, then he would take that step.
***
The enormous carcass of the Infant Dragon — a hulk over four meters tall — collapsed onto its side with a dull, earth-shaking crash. Streams of light erupted from the numerous slashing wounds on its scaly body, and in the next instant, the twelfth-floor monster exploded into a cloud of thick ash. All that remained on the scorched stone was an unbelievably large, iridescent magic crystal.
Rein smoothly shook the blood from his blade and sheathed it with a ringing click. He exhaled, rolling his shoulders, and turned to his support with a light, satisfied smile.
"So," the young man smirked, "can I now officially claim the title of dragonslayer?"
Liliruca didn't even blink. She shifted her utterly empty, glassy gaze to the spot where the middle-floor boss had just towered, walked over to the crystal, and with the same lost expression mechanically stowed it in her backpack. Not a shadow of a smile, not a drop of fear. Just a frightening, robotic submission.
Rein's smile slowly faded. All his battle fervor evaporated, shattered against the blank wall of her detachment. The old master realized his attempt to lighten the mood had failed miserably. Leaving her in such a state in a place where any mistake was fatal was out of the question.
"We're finishing for today," he said evenly.
Liliruca flinched. For the first time that day, genuine surprise flickered across her lifeless face. They usually farmed until late evening, squeezing every ounce of stamina to the maximum, and now the sun was barely past noon. But she didn't argue. With a short nod, the girl checked her backpack's straps, and they silently headed toward the surface.
The bustling square before the Tower of Babel greeted them with its usual commotion. After exchanging their haul at the Guild, they stopped at the edge of the paved circle.
According to a long-established habit, Lili held out her hands, expecting her employer to now count out her share, after which she could vanish into the dark alleys. However, Rein was in no hurry to untie the weighty pouch.
He looked down at her and spoke calmly:
"My Goddess has expressed a great desire to personally meet the one with whom I risk my life daily in the Dungeon. So today, you're coming with me."
Lili froze. True panic splashed in her widening eyes. The mask of submission cracked. Meeting someone else's Deity? This guy's Goddess would surely see through her instantly, would understand that before her stood a thief and a liar from the despised Soma Familia!
"L-Lili can't!" she stammered, instinctively taking a step back. "Lili is very grateful for the offer, but Lili has urgent business in her Familia, and…"
Rein's face became absolutely static, unreadable.
"Is that so?" His tone turned icy. "In that case, I won't pay you a single valis."
And he deliberately, slowly tucked the pouch of coins back into his coat.
Lili's jaw dropped.
"Huh?!" An exclamation that was completely unbecoming of an "ideal supporter" escaped her lips.
Rein tilted his head slightly and mimicked her with an absolutely serious face:
"Huh?!"
"M-Master Rein! You can't do that! That's…" She choked with indignation, desperately trying to find the words.
"Just Rein," he cut her off sharply, stepping toward her. His dark eyes bored into her face with an unyielding, heavy gaze.
Under the pressure of that aura, the girl swallowed.
"R-Rein-sama…" she forced out the compromise, frantically trying to devise a new excuse. She was terrified to the point of numbness. She didn't want to get any closer to him, didn't want him to discover the full depth of her filth.
But Rein gave her no chance to flee. All his feigned severity evaporated, giving way to sincere weariness.
"Lili," he said her name softly, but in a way that cut through the square's noise. "We spend long hours side by side every day. We risk our lives in the depths of the Labyrinth, covering each other's backs. Have I truly not earned even a drop of trust from you?"
"That's not the point at all!" Liliruca wailed inwardly. The point was that she considered herself unworthy of that trust!
But looking into his amber eyes, in which there was not a trace of mockery or contempt, she realized she had lost. Her shoulders slumping, the girl despairingly held out her trembling hands. Rein gently placed her honestly earned share into them.
Putting the money away, Lili silently trudged after him.
They walked through the streets of Orario in absolute silence.
A hurricane raged inside Liliruca's head. She had absolutely no idea what was required of her or how to behave. The money she earned with Rein was more than enough to stop stealing and pay the Soma Familia's extortions, but she knew perfectly well that Zeno and his ilk wouldn't just leave her alone. And now this meeting… What would Rein think of her when his Goddess asked uncomfortable questions and her entire background was exposed? What if he pushed her away in disgust?
She stared at his broad back. This man was an anomaly. Lili had firmly convinced herself of that. She couldn't even imagine what was going on inside his head, much less what kind of Deity could contain and guide such a monster in human guise. She expected to see a luxurious mansion, an estate with columns, or at least a wealthy barracks.
But when they finally stopped in an abandoned part of the Northwest District, reality mercilessly shattered her expectations yet again.
Liliruca stood before a rickety gate leading to the ruins of an old chapel. A collapsed roof, moss-covered stone walls, shattered stained-glass windows. This place was dead.
The Pallum girl stared blankly ahead, utterly incapable of finding a single word.
Rein, stopping beside her, cast his gaze over his "home" and chuckled quietly.
"I probably looked about the same when I first found out someone actually lived here," he remarked, noticing her shock. "But you know, inside, it's not all that bad."
Lili slowly shifted a distrustful, strange look toward him. The young man's eyes wavered; he coughed and glanced away.
"Well, yes, from the outside it looks pretty rough, I admit."
He creaked open the wooden gate and left it ajar, inviting his guest to enter. Doubts were tearing Lili apart, but clenching her fists, she nonetheless stepped onto the weed-overgrown grounds.
Leaving her in the main hall, Rein descended into the basement. Confirming that Hestia had not yet returned from her part-time job, he went back up.
Liliruca was sitting on one of the surviving but heavily cracked benches. She was staring straight ahead — at the headless statue of an unknown deity — or perhaps just into emptiness. Rein approached without hesitation and lowered himself onto the wooden bench beside her.
The girl immediately dropped her gaze to her knees. Her fingers were nervously interlacing, unable to find a place to rest. The silence in the ruined church pressed against the ears.
"I'm thinking of doing some renovations here," Rein spoke unexpectedly, looking at the collapsed altar. "There's an enormous amount of room for work. We could restore the walls, order new stained glass. Or just tear these ruins the hell down and build a proper, spacious house. Do you think that would count as blasphemy? The plot's not small; if you plan everything smartly, you could get an excellent estate…"
"Why?"
Her quiet, broken voice made him fall silent. Rein raised an eyebrow and turned to her.
"What do you mean, why? For comfort," he shrugged. "We're not planning to huddle in ruins and sleep in a basement our whole lives, are we?"
Lili lifted her head. An absolute, frightening seriousness filled her huge chestnut eyes.
Rein met that gaze. The old man inside him understood: the time for half-measures was over. He stopped pretending, discarded his lighthearted tone, and, looking her straight in the eyes, said what he had intended to:
"I don't want you to go back to your Familia."
Those words hit Lili like a punch to the gut. She physically gasped, as if all the air had been knocked out of her lungs. The inner walls she had so carefully constructed began to spiderweb with cracks.
She tried to answer calmly, but her voice betrayed her, breaking with emotion:
"There's no… no point in that. There are hundreds like me in Orario. A whole multitude."
"Maybe," Rein slowly shook his head. "But I only see you here."
"You'll have enormous problems because of me!" she threw out in desperation.
"Life generally consists of problems and good moments in equal measure, Lili. I'll manage somehow."
"You know who my Familia is! You know about Soma!" Her voice began to rise, tipping into hysteria.
"Yes. I know."
"Then why?!" Lili shouted, and in that cry spilled all the pain, all the confusion and fear of a child who couldn't believe that someone actually needed her.
Rein didn't flinch. He looked at her face, twisted with despair, with unwavering, ironclad calm.
"Because I want to."
That answer destroyed everything. Lili stared at him with eyes wide open, from which, at last, hot, uncontrollable tears began to stream down.
"You're just… just an idiot!" she sobbed, rubbing the tears away with her dirty palms. "You're insane!"
Rein smirked. He leaned back against the creaking bench, folded his hands behind his head, and looked up at the collapsed ceiling.
"Maybe so," he agreed easily. "But you know, in my humble experience, it's better to be an idiot and act according to your conscience than to be smart and spend your whole life eating yourself up with regrets."
He lowered his head, looked at her tear-streaked face, and, with a broad grin, gave her a conspiratorial wink.
"Catch my drift??"
Lili sniffled, ready to burst into tears again, but this time from some unthinkable, warm sense of relief, when suddenly…
Creeeak-BOOM!
The heavy oak doors of the chapel burst open with a crash. A petite figure in a white dress appeared on the threshold. Hestia, breathing heavily from the climb up the hill, stepped inside and froze in her tracks.
The Goddess of the Hearth shifted her gaze to the ruined benches. A picture worth a thousand words: her sole, precious follower lounging casually on a bench, and next to him — some pretty girl, in tears, looking at him as if he'd just plucked a star from the sky for her.
The bag of evening snacks in Hestia's hands rustled ominously. Her face began to rapidly fill with a crimson flush. She raised a trembling finger, pointing directly at Rein.
"Y… y… y-you…" the Goddess began, stammering, drawing as much air as she could into her lungs.
Rein, sensing the atmosphere of dramatic rescue hurtling into the abyss, wearily raised an eyebrow.
"Y-you?" he repeated philosophically.
"REIN!!! YOU CHEATER!!!" Hestia roared for the whole neighborhood to hear, her eyes moistening with righteous divine fury.
"Oh, for heaven's sake," he groaned inwardly, covering his face with his palm. "Why is it so damn difficult with you all sometimes…"