"In the end, I had to leave the excess magic stones behind." Cain drummed his fingers against his leg. "I switched to Morsalis right after, so it wasn't that big of a loss."
He exhaled, glancing to the side.
"Very much unlike my excursion with Mikoto the day before that. While I did get in some good sword practice, that's nothing compared to the progress I could have made using my skill."
Rose leaned back on the couch as she recalled the updated status he had shown her earlier.
All of Cain's stats were ranked E.
One more and he would be eligible for a level up.
Barely two weeks into his adventuring career.
A faint smile tugged at her lips.
"Tell me more about this Mikoto. We didn't get to talk much about her yesterday."
They had been too focused on planning his first solo trip to the 8th floor.
"She's a sweet girl."
The corners of Cain's mouth lifted.
"Kind. Honorable. Entirely too humble for her own good."
Rose squinted slightly as she traced the lines of his expression.
Why was he smiling like that?
"I take it you intend to continue this partnership, even though it will interfere with your growth."
"I do," Cain answered without hesitation. "Morsalis makes gathering excelia simple. With the way Mikoto is going, it won't take her long to reach level 2. Cultivating a positive relationship with someone like that is a worthwhile investment."
"I see."
Silence fell between them. Cain watched her like he often did. As though she were a puzzle he wished nothing more than to solve.
"She'll still spend most of her time with her main party, so we'll only go into the Dungeon together a few times a week. At most."
His fingers stilled against his knees.
"If you don't want me to partner—"
"I said no such thing!"
Her tail flickered behind her.
"It's good that you're already forming alliances. I fear you're going to need them soon."
The news of his level-up would hit Orario like nothing had since the Sword Princess became the youngest level 2 in history.
"What do you mean?" He tilted his head. "I've been keeping a low profile. The chances of anyone challenging me to a Famila War are minimal."
If only it were that simple.
"That strategy will cease to function the moment you rank up. Which, at the rate you're going, is only a matter of time."
Cain cupped his chin between his fingers and rested his elbow on the armrest.
He looked even more at home in her office than she did.
"Is this about that… what's it called again?" His lips pursed as he searched for the word.
"The Denatus? Where the gods gather to gossip and discuss aliases?"
Rose's ears twitched as she gave a small nod.
So her lessons had stuck.
"The next one is due within the month. If you level before then, you'll be known to them as the new record holder."
Loki would stop at nothing to learn everything there was to know about the man who had dared surpass her favoured child's greatest achievement.
"They won't know how you did it, and that mystery will increase their interest the longer it persists—eventually driving them into a frenzy."
Cain's expression hardened as he considered her words.
"Hestia once told me that there's nothing her kind values more than rarity… but enough to start a war?"
The mocking eyes of Orario's most powerful goddess flashed through Rose's mind.
"We'll cross that bridge once we get there. You're still some distance away from ranking up, and things will only get harder from here."
"You're right."
Cain's shoulders loosened as he released a breath.
"I've decided to follow Mikoto's example and postpone it until my stats are maxed out."
Rose suppressed a scoff, not in the mood to explain how ridiculous that notion truly was.
He must have misunderstood the girls intentions.
"Sooner or later, you will also need to hire a supporter," she said, shifting the topic. "You've reached the point where going in solo is becoming a detriment."
"Why?"
Cain clasped his hands between his knees.
"Sure, I'd make more Valis with one following me around like a walking inventory, but I'm not hurting for cash."
It was true.
He had already paid her back in full for the armor and sword she had bought for him.
Entirely of his own volition.
The money meant nothing to her—a few thousand Valis was barely a drop in her savings.
She had appreciated the sentiment behind the gesture, if nothing else.
"You underestimate the value of a capable supporter. They carry your tools, potions, food, water—everything a party needs. They gather magic stones, organize equipmen and stand watch while you rest."
She paused, giving him time to process.
"I haven't pressed the issue before—mostly because your skill allows you to function without much of what makes supporters essential, but your future party members won't share that same luxury."
A faint crease formed between Cain's brows.
"I'll think about it."
"Good."
If he chose to disregard her advice, then that was his decision to make.
She was his advisor, not his goddess.
As long as they did not endanger his life, she was willing to let him learn from his mistakes.
Her chair creaked softly as she rose to her feet and circled back to her desk.
"There's something else," she opened the top drawer," Seria contacted me yesterday."
Cain perked up as he watched her attentively.
"Has she finally found a suitable blacksmith?"
Rose withdrew a marked sheet of paper.
"She has."
And what a surprise that had been.
When it came to her craft, there were few people more particular than Seria. Any blacksmith she deemed suitable was bound to be exceptional.
"That's a relief." Cain sunk back into the couch. "I was starting to think I'd been forgotten."
A barely contained smile tugged at his lips as she returned to her seat.
"Who is it?"
Rose pushed the paper toward him over the table.
"His name is Welf Crozzo."
She paused to watch his reaction to the name.
"He is a capable level 1 swordsman. But it's his skills with a hammer she spoke most highly of."
"He's a swordsman?"
Cain's gaze sharpened as he picked up the paper.
"…Yes."
He hadn't so much as twitched at the mention of the infamous name.
The Crozzo clan was world renowned. No matter how remote his homeland may be, he should have at least heard of them in passing.
"You can ask him about that once you meet. He'll be waiting for you there—" she pointed to the note, and the address written on it, "at sunset.
Cain arched a brow.
"He'll be waiting for me in a tavern?"
Rose shrugged.
Blacksmiths were an eccentric breed of people.
"Like I said, ask him about it. Seria described him as a 'tall tomato with an uneven posture'."
She hid her smile behind a gloved hand.
"Supposedly because of the huge chip he carries around on his shoulder."
Ever since their time at the School District, her friend's sharp tongue had always been one of her defining traits.
"Thank you, Rose."
Cain's features softened.
"For everything."
"…You can repay me by staying alive."
Her tail wrapped around her waist.
"Don't get cocky."
"I won't."
The room was filled with the sound of scraping metal and rustling fabric as Cain fastened his armor back into place, his defined muscle coiling beneath a form-fitting shirt.
Rose blanked her expression. A task that required more effort than usual.
He offered her one last smile before heading for the door.
"See you tomorrow."
"…I'll be waiting."
Her shoulders slumped as the door closed behind him.
She pinched the bridge of her nose.
Misha would be jumping with joy if she saw her like this.
Rose's breath caught as a slow knock echoed from the door.
She cleared her throat, making sure her voice came out steady.
"The door is still open."
The knocking faded.
"It's me. Cain already left."
Rose blinked.
"…Come in, Eina."
The half-elf fidgeted slightly as she stepped into her office. Her fingers curled around the sleeve of her uniform.
"What can I do for you," Rose asked, gesturing for her junior to take a seat on the opposing couch.
She sometimes still found it difficult to reconcile the beautiful young woman Eina had grown into with the bookish, timid girl she had met only a handful of years ago.
"There's something I wanted to talk to you about," Eina said, taking a seat. "It concerns your adventurer."
Rose did not let her surprise show.
As far as she knew, the two of them had not met yet.
"Go on."
Eina straightened and pushed her glasses up.
"Korus claims the magic stones Cain's exchanged over the past two days came directly from the 8th floor."
That meddling old man was much too fond of gossip.
"While he's supposed to keep things like that to himself, he's right."
Eina's hands stilled mid-motion.
"But that's impossible!" she exclaimed. "He's been an adventurer for barely two weeks!"
"And yet, it has happened."
Eina lips parted.
"Why are you so calm about this?"
Her voice lifted.
"This goes far beyond rookie overconfidence. The 8th floor is reserved for experienced level 1 adventurers!"
"Because it isn't overconfidence. He asked me if I thought he was ready, and I said yes."
Eina stilled.
"…Why would you let him do something so reckless?"
Rose's gaze drifted to the spot on the couch Cain had claimed as his own.
"I made a judgment based on his capabilities and determined that I would be holding him back if I treated him like I would an ordinary adventurer."
His abnormality was the reason she choose to become his advisor in the first place.
"I don't understand." Eina frowned. "You know what awaits him at the end of this path."
Rose's gaze snapped up, locking onto Eina's forest green eyes.
"Cain will not die."
"How can you know that?"
"He gave me his word."
Eina looked at her as though she had grown a second head.
"…Because he gave you his word?"
Rose let out a slow breath.
"What is this really about? It's not like you to be so concerned about an adventurer you could not have met more than a few times."
People did not last long in their profession without learning to raise walls around their hearts.
Eina glanced to the side.
"I think you made a mistake by accepting him."
Her voice lowered.
"Adventurers like that never last long."
"You're right."
It had been her who taught the half-elf which adventurers to stay away from.
Cain ticked nearly all of those boxes.
"But he is different."
Her expression softened.
"I know what I'm doing. Trust me."
A faint smile pulled at her lips as her gaze drifted to the window.
How much farther would he go with a blacksmith from the Crozzo bloodline at his side?
—————-
I paused at the entrance of the Midnight Rhapsody.
While Morsalis trivialized all but the most fatal of wounds, my armor had saved my life more than once.
It deserved nothing but the best.
Welf Crozzo's choice of venue had already soured my opinion of him.
My nose wrinkled as I stepped toward the bar. It was filled to the brim with burly men and women.
I lifted a hand to draw the blonde waiter's attention.
"What do you want?" he drawled.
I blinked, momentarily thrown by the short man's rough voice. It stood at odds with his childish appearance.
"Have you seen a blacksmith by the name of Welf Crozzo?" I glanced around the room. "He's tall. Looks like a tomato—"
"He's upstairs," the Pallum cut in, not giving me a second look as he continued wiping the counter.
"First booth to the right. Can't miss it."
"…Thanks."
Taking the blunt dismissal in stride, I turned toward the stairs.
He had been right.
I did not miss it.
A redheaded man sat at a round table, two glasses and a half-empty bottle of wine within reach.
"Are you Welf Crozzo?" I asked, stepping closer.
"Who the—"
He paused and looked me over—then looked again.
"I am."
He rose to his feet.
"You must be Cain. The Rookie Captain of the Hestia Familia."
I stifled a sigh.
People really loved to remind me of that.
"I've been waiting for a while now." Welf extended his hand toward me. "I was starting to think I'd been stood up."
"Sorry about that."
I accepted the handshake with a wince.
"I lost track of time in the Dungeon today."
The hours blurred together whenever I allowed Morsalis to take the reigns.
"I understand," Welf huffed. "We've all been there."
He gestured to the chair opposite his.
"You did make it in the end."
He spread his arms as we sat down.
"I know what you're thinking. Why are we here? Why meet in a tavern instead of a smithy—or some other more respectable location."
"…It did cross my mind."
Welf nodded in understanding and filled the empty glass with wine.
"I prefer to get to know my costumers before I agree to any sort of contract."
He pushed the glass toward me. Only to pause when I lifted my hand.
"I don't drink."
Welf faltered slightly. Then pulled the glass back.
"You don't mind if I…"
His voice trailed off as he gestured toward the bottle.
"Not at all."
An eager grin spread his lips as he poured the contents of the second glass into his own.
I snorted, unable to keep it in this time.
"What do you expect from me?" he asked suddenly.
"As your personal blacksmith."
"I want you to repair my armor," I replied without missing a beat.
Welf squinted as he swirled the wine in his hand.
"Not your sword?"
"Are you any good with them?"
He threw his head back and let out a booming laugh.
"That hag was right after all."
His gaze snapped back to me.
"You really don't know."
"…Know what?"
"Nevermind that!"
Welf gulped down half the wine in his glass, then slammed it onto the table.
"To answer your question—yes. I am very good with swords."
His expression brightened.
"You're talking to the man who will forge the greatest sword this world has ever seen—greater even than the works of the divine smith herself!"
Fierce conviction burned in his blue eyes.
"That's quite the goal you have there."
Welf's hands clenched into fists.
"I am a blacksmith first, but I'm also an adventurer. I never would have stepped foot into the Dungeon if I didn't have an ambition worth dying for."
The words resonated with something deep inside me.
"The divine smith," I mused. "That's Hephaestus. Your goddess. How does she feel about this ambition of yours?"
Welf shrugged.
"She's the reason I'm going to do it."
My brows lifted.
"You're going to become the greatest blacksmith in the world… for your goddess?"
A faint flush crept up his neck.
"Well… when you say it like that..."
Looking at his expression felt like staring into a mirror.
"You too, huh?"
Welf blinked.
"What was that?"
"I think the two of us are going to get along just fine."
The music and laughter around us faded as I leaned forward, my gaze locking onto him.
"Because I too have an ambition I hold very dear."
Though I would nor die for it.
Rose would never forgive me if I did.
"Let's hear it then!"
Welf's fingers tightened around his glass.
"I'm all ears."
"I am going to become the greatest hero this world has ever seen," I proclaimed. "Greater even than Albert himself."
Welf opened his mouth—then stopped.
Silence fell as he stared at me.
Then he grinned.
"That's quite the goal you have there."
The man who dreamed of becoming the greatest blacksmith.
And me—who would become the greatest hero.
What were the odds the two of us would meet like this so early in our journeys?
"I do—"
I froze.
How had I not sensed it earlier?
My muscles tensed as I snapped my head to the side.
There was nothing there.
"Are you good?" Welf asked.
Something had been watching me.
Again.
And I did not notice.
Until now.
———-
Freya's breath quickened as she traced the lines of Cain's distraught—yet equally handsome—face.
He was dressed in the clothes she had chosen for him.
Her spine tingled.
Playing this game with him was more entertaining than she had expected.
No mortal had ever sensed her gaze through the Divine Mirrors before.
It was impossible.
Or at least—it had been.
"The boy wants to be a hero," she breathed, crossing one leg over the other as she sank into the cushions of her throne.
"How ridiculous."
She shook her head and trailed her fingers across the image in her mirror.
Never before had she witnessed a man act in such opposition to his nature.
Not once—before or after—had she seen him as joyful and fulfilled as he had been while slaughtering that foolish party of adventurers.
Cain snapped to the side and met her gaze through the mirror.
Of course, he did not see her.
Just as he had not managed to see through her disguise.
"Let's put that dream to the test then, shall we?"
The gift she had prepared for him would soon arrive in Orario.
She could not wait to see him unwrap it.