Danmachi owner? Who's that? Ain't me chief!
"And 'ere ya go."
Perseus couldn't contain his excitement as Reg fastened the last strap on his armour. It had been just over 3 days since Percy and Brant visited the Dwarf and ordered the basic set of armour and for the young boy, the wait was excruciating. He still traversed the dungeon, not even dreaming of wasting 3 days of work that could be used to get stronger, especially now that his stats were starting to stagnate a lot.
It had been 7 and a half months since Percy got his falna and he was so close to hitting A tier on his Strength and Defence. His Dexterity was not far behind, just hitting B a fortnight ago but his Agility was sorely lacking, barely scraping the C tier last update. So over the last 3 days, Perseus had been running around the dungeon, practising a skill he believed would be helpful for him.
"Well... how do ya feel?" Brant asked as Reg took a step back to admire his work, nodding to himself in satisfaction.
"I feel... weird," Percy said as he examined himself.
Reg's armour was a set of light armour, with a few tweaks to suit Percy's brawler style of fighting. His usual clothes of a short-sleeved black top, thin brown shorts that went past his knees, and Brown boots that covered half his shins were now overlayed with small pieces of armour. Black leather shin guards covered his boots with contrasting small brown leather straps connecting around his calves.
"They're there for when ya wanna kick 'em hard," Reg explained. "But I ain't covering up the feet so they ain' stoppin' ya movement, understood?"
Black Leather knee supports at first felt uncomfortable but after only a few seconds of wearing them, Percy already liked the comforting feeling of them.
"Ya gonna be using ya knees a lot, so these stop ya muscles from hurting too much however, ya can't rely on them."
A small favourite of Percy's was the small belt that wrapped around his waist. On his right side sat his pouch with his new knife on his stronger side. When Reg showed Perseus his new knife, the boy gaped at it. It made his old pocket knife seem pathetic (because it was), with its sharp 6-inch blade and firm leather hilt. The only way for Reg and Brant to regain the boy's attention was the sheath Reg personally made. Nothing special, with stitches running down its brown hide but to the 5-year-old, it was more than he was expecting as he tangled it with his belt.
Reg and Brant both agreed that having no armour for the chest and torso area was a good idea. When Perseus asked why, Brant explained the reason.
"Most fighters don't have any armour coverin' their torso unless they're tanks..."
"Tanks? What's that?"
Brant simply rolled his eyes. " Ya don't need to worry 'bout that right now. Now, ya don't have a chest plate cause ya too small to have one. If ya get attacked, a chest plate your size won't make a difference. Plus, it is extra weight someone who uses their fists can't afford to carry. Besides, if ya wanna carry on fightin' this way, ya need to build up your natural strength, meaning ya gonna need to use to gettin' hit."
Perseus nodded glumly at Brant's explanation. In his eyes, the chest plate always shined the most when he watched other adventurers but he understood he was a different fighter.
Percy looked again at his arms. They were a bit weird but he really liked the way he looked, almost going so far as to describe it as cool. A sleeveless black hoodie with white trim on the... sleeves... arm-holes, were they still considered sleeves even if it was called sleeveless? Anyway, the top part of his arm was completely bare, his triceps and biceps not having any armour on them. Percy preferred that as he felt like anything on them would feel constrictive.
His elbow's had the same support straps as his knees, with his forearm being the main piece of armour. Leather on the bottom so it felt comfortable on his skin. Facing towards the sky were two shiny metal arm guards that were practically moulded to his arm. When Percy first slipped them on, he was stunned they fit so well. He gave an admired look of gratitude towards his blacksmith, who gave a cheerful wink in return.
"Thank... you..."
Reg smiled at the young lad who was now bowing his head to the dwarf. With a small chuckle, he walked back up to the boy, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Don' worry 'bout it lad, all I ask is one thing."
Percy looked back up at Reg.
"Make sure ya bring ya ass back to ma shop in one piece."
Perseus couldn't help but beam at the dwarf's words.
Off to the side leaning against a wall, Brant stood watching the scene. He couldn't help but smile as he watched the young boy once again examine his newly acquired armour. It brought back fond memories, before the incident over 5 years ago.
"Right then, let me pay ya old ass so we can get goin'," Brant spouted as he moved off the wall.
"Aye and ya better make sure ya got all of it down to the last Valis or Imma stick ya head on a spike," Reg retorted.
Percy watched Brant take out his money pouch, still unsure of how he felt. His second main reason for going into the dungeon was to make money, enough to support Maria and their family. But here he was, already using someone else's money.
"Don' look like that, 'member this is basically ya money any way that YOU earnt," Reg said as he saw Percy's look of guilt. This got a grumble out of Brant as he was reminded that he was financially dependent on a 5-year-old. This made Percy feel a bit better but he still swore that he would do something for Brant one day.
"Oh yeah, before I forget. I got one more thing."
Reg darted into the back after his quick statement, leaving Perseus and Brant a bit stunned. Percy was surprised by how quickly the dwarf could run, amazed someone that size could move that fast.
When the dwarf re-emerged from the red curtain, he had his hands behind his back. While Percy gave a perplexed look, Brant facepalmed.
"Ya called me a softer and yet ya are already spoilin' him."
"Oi, my shop. I'm allowed to do what I want," Reg barked back before looking back at Percy.
"Lad, close ya eyes for a sec would ya."
"...ok."
With some hesitation, Perseus closed his eyes. Brant raised an eyebrow that he hadn't looked at him for confirmation like he usually did, showing his trust for Reg.
'Does he actually trust me, even though I've been usin' him?'
Brant decided to put the moral dilemma in his head on pause for the time being as he saw Reg slowly grab the young boy's hands.
Percy felt the rough hands of the dwarf gently grab his hands. He flinched slightly but didn't open his eyes or pull back, wanting to trust the dwarf who had already done so much for him.
'I wonder what he's giving me?'
His answer would come a second later as he felt the dwarf open his fingers. Then he felt his skin slip through leather. Each finger had its own hole to go through, then his palm and the back of his hand were then wrapped in the leather. Percy was already smiling at the gift as he heard the sound of a strap being velcroed into place. He felt a weird weight that was nestled on the last part of his finger, in between the two knuckles, that he wasn't sure what it could be.
Reg then did the same on his other hand. Percy began to open his eyes but Reg quickly blocked his view.
"Ah Ah, no peakin' yet. Brant, mind grabbin' that thing o'er there for me."
Percy was unsure what Reg asked Brant to get but the man agreed immediately. Percy heard something being picked up from the ground before being placed near him.
"Now ya can open ya eyes."
Immediately Percy's eyes went to his hands. Just as he guessed, brown leather, fingerless gloves. Like his armguards, they fit his hand perfectly. He moved his fingers, feeling the soft leather rub against his skin. He then clenched his hand into a fist, the sound of leather squeezing rustling in his ears. This allowed him to see what the weight on his knuckles was.
"They're something to help ya pack a bit more of a punch, ya get me?" Reg asked as he saw the boy examine the small bits of hardened leather that bulked the gloves that covered that part of his fingers. Slightly tapping them, Percy could tell that it was strong material.
"Oi, I lugged this over here and now ya ain' even usin' it."
Brant's small complaint brought Percy's eyes up. His eyes widened as they met his own green eyes. Brant had placed a mirror in front of the boy, allowing him to properly see his new look.
Perseus was speechless, not knowing what to say.
'I kind of look like... an adventurer...'
After a second of looking, the boy's body moved on its own.
Reg almost fell over at the new weight buried in his chest, Percy jumping into the dwarf's body. Percy wanted to say thank you 100 times but felt like it wouldn't be enough. At the time, all he could give was a hug and Reg gladly excepted it, warmly embracing the boy while messing with his hair.
As I give one last wave to Reg, I jump back up to pace with Brant who as usual had walked on ahead. While I had to take off my armour, so people wouldn't see a 5-year-old in armour walking around the city, which really bummed me out, I was still ecstatic from today. Finally, I had gotten my first set of armour.
I wanted to show off for the first time since I learned how to read. I desperately wanted to go brag to Penia, who would smile and say that means I can go earn my money. I almost considered running to Maria and showing off my armour but I quickly reigned those thoughts in as I quickly realised she probably wouldn't want to see me looking more like an adventurer.
As Brant and I walked back through the city, the morning sun having turned into midday I seemingly don't mind the bustle of noise. I look up at Brant as he corrects the bag that was carrying my armour over his shoulder again. I had offered to carry it but he said it weighed nothing to him and that it would look weird if a grown man walked next to a child struggling to carry a heavy bag. I couldn't really argue with him so I accepted it.
Eventually, we made it to the place me and Brant split ways. He knew I lived in Daedalus street. He has escorted me a few times this way, apparently one of his favourite pubs lay on the eastern side of the city. While not right in front of the entrance to Daedalus Street, it seemed Brant wasn't drunk enough to not be able to realise where I live.
"Ya live in Daedalus?"
"...yeah."
He never brought it up again. I know Daedalus street isn't perceived as the nicest place to live, and for good reason, but it will always be my home. The place where my family lives and where I grew up. It seems Brant understood that and didn't bother to delve any further.
Even though I believe our relationship has grown from what it initially started out as, we still know very little about each other.
In his eyes, I'm a stupid child throwing himself head first into danger for stupid, pointless reasons.
In my eyes, Brant's a drunken loser who got injured in the dungeon and now relies on a child to get money.
But I would be lying if I said that was all it was. As I look up at him as he nonchalantly spits on the cobbled street, I know I have developed some feelings of care towards him. I never had a dad and I never wanted one as Maria was always enough. It would've just been another mouth to feed but I did wonder from time to time what it would've been like.
Is Brant a proper example of how most adults act? Would he make a good father? From the way he's treated me, I'd definitely say no but I know he is more than what he looks like.
If it wasn't for him, I would never have made it as far as I have. No money or valuable dungeon lessons that have more than once seen more through tough situations.
"What ya lookin at brat?"
I whip my head forward at Brant's gruff voice, not bothering to check if he gave me an annoyed grimace, already knowing the answer.
" 'ere ya go."
"-ghh"
I grunt at the sudden weight dropped on me as Brant unloads the bag carrying my armour onto me. I barely manage to catch it, preventing it from crashing to the ground.
I shoot my own annoyed look up to Brant for almost potentially damaging my new armour.
"-tch, ya got a falna. You'll be fine."
Brant's not wrong in that regard. I find the bag that is half the size of me surprisingly light. While not as easy as Brant, I could carry this by myself. But Brant's action only go to remind me of the truth.
'He only cares about me because of money. I only care about him because of money. That's as far as our relationship goes. An investment now and then was bound to happen.'
I haul my armour bag over my shoulder, the bottom slapping my thigh, as I turn away from the unkept drunk.
"... see ya later."
I begin walking away, not bothering to look back at the middle-aged man. I put my right hand up to mediate as a good bye wave and take a left down an alley. I stop thinking of Brant, instead thinking of my trip into the dungeon tonight, bringing back some of my previous excitement from before.
'That dumb brat, bet he's already thinking of going back into that shit hole.'
As Brant watches the young boy turn down the alley way, out of his sight, he lingers on the image for another second before continuing his journey.
He shoves his hands in his pockets as he kicks a stone out of his path. His right hand begins jiggling with his money pouch.
"-tch!"
Brant clicks his tongue as he feels how light it is compared to its weight this morning.
'That brat cost me a lot; I'm only going to be able to afford 3-4 drinks this time. I might start splitting our money back to how I originally did it instead of the 50-50 I so generously put it down to.'
Brant messed around with saliva in his mouth before spitting it out and began making his way to the pub, hoping that the buzz of alcohol would be able to get rid of this annoying itch in his mind, one that came up especially when the young 5-year-old boy was near him.
I've made my way to the large open plain of the 10th floor. Each dive becomes easier and this time I managed to get to the 10th floor in less than half 'n' hour. While I had tested my armour slightly on a few war shadows and kobolds when I entered to get a feel for their weight, I was taking both Reg and Brant's advice to not go fully out with my armour on its first test run so I can get comfortable running around with it on before taking on the monsters I usually fight.
So now that I've made it to the floors which I normally fight on I decide to take a quick break to think of what to do. Over the past 2 months, I have wanted to go past floor 12 but when I tried mentioning that to Brant, I saw actual concern in his eyes for the first time. His very descript warning for why a solo level 1 should never trespass further than the top 12 floors was enough to convince me to stay where I was but it never left my mind.
The allure of floor 13 and below was so intense for me, I forced myself to not even go past floor 11 as I feel like the next time I step onto floor 12 it will just be a path for me to go to floor 13, the entrancing prospects below strong enough to bypass logic.
Maybe that was the true danger of the dungeon. Not the monsters but the unknown treasures lurking beyond the vale of the abyss. The sights of all those adventurers that come back from those areas only add to the need to delve further.
I shake my head, stopping any more thoughts of venturing further than the top floors. My break is meant to be used to gather my bearings on floor 10. For most of my time in the last 3 days and gradually over the past 7 months, I've dedicated some time to honing a skillset I know is valuable.
Even before I entered the dungeon, I had thought of doing this. Reading in the hero book Maria got me told me that understanding this, even its most basic form could be a matter of victory or defeat, life or death. But it was the story of the Argonaut when he delved into the catacombs to fight off a minotaur did I truly understand the requirements of this skill.
So instead of looking for monsters to fight, I decide to reach into my back pocket. Pulling out a small booklet with a small pencil attached to its side, I flip through the pages, finding where I last finished off my map of the 10th floor yesterday.
Over the course of the past 7 months I have managed to draw a map of each floor up to the 9th. While not detailed to the last route, I can proudly say it goes past being called basic. I even managed to compare it to a map I had found next to a pile of blood of bones. Not bothering to think of what caused the mess any more than I needed to, I picked up the parchment. I immediately recognised it as a fairly well done map of floor 6. My map, while being an assortment of different pages, was easier to read, well for me anyway.
I almost feel weird making maps as my memory allows me to never need one. I have come to realise how much of a blessing my memory is for dungeon delving. Not only can I remember a monster's fighting patterns, its weakness and the best way to attack after only killing it one or two times but I have an almost complete layout of the entire higher floors in my mind. So why do I create maps?
Well I needed a good enough reason to descend to the next floor. Because I was so unsure of what lay beyond the next flight of stairs on each floor, I decided to give myself an ultimatum. I can go to the next floor after I've mapped most of the floor I'm on. While I do venture into the next floor to get a feel for it, I keep to the floor I'm on and map it out before venturing to the next one.
This allows me to not only me to adventurer around every floor, getting a proper grasp on each and every one of them but I also give myself adequate time to get strong enough to get to the next floor.
Though when I got to the 10th floor did it truly hit me that each floor was slowly getting bigger each time. Brant had already told me of the higher floor and middle floors so I decided to merge the 10th, 11th and 12th floor together, which turned to be a good idea as they were all pretty much the same floor.
A large dead plain biome with a low hanging, dense fog swarmed with imps, goblins and Orcs, with a mixture of some other monster in the mix.
As I find where my last entry was from yesterday, I see that I've almost explored all of floor 10. This would mean that I should move onto floor 11 but that map is half full as well.
'I really want to go floor 12 again.'
It's my new set of armour that is my main argument to not go there but then again...
'I learn quickly and I have already adjusted to my new armour. I've already had to fight 2 orcs and a few imps to get here anyway. I should be alright, besides floor 12 is the same thing as before.'
Even though I bragged about my memory earlier, I had forgotten about the allure of floor 13 as I set off to floor 12.
I feel the best I have ever in felt in the dungeon. My punches feel firmer with the extra padding in my gloves as I one punch an orc, turning it to dust. My elbow support is putting in massive work to keep my muscles from tiring as much as it forces me to use more efficient movement. My knees supports are doing even more.
I feel like my kicks themselves are stronger as I bounce around the room, continuing to increase my agility. I get behind a group of 6 imps and with a sweep of my right leg, my shin guard crashes into the first imp. My kick sends it flying into its fellow monsters as all 6 go tumbling to the ground. My kick was that strong that imp I kicked turned to ash before it hit the ground, with the next nearest two joining it as their grey bodies slammed into the rough terrain. The other 3 can't seem to stand up properly as my hit generated enough force to break their bones. I don't give them any time to even attempt a second chance to stand up as I jump the distance, landing on one of the heads, squishing its skull beneath my boot. I then precedes to stamp through the other two skulls, turning their brains to mush.
I hear the sound of roots being ripped out of the ground behind me. While the monsters are the as on floor 10 and 11, the floor 12 monsters have an increased level intelligence. The proof for that now stands before me as I turn around to face the Orc, standing over 12ft tall with a large, chunky dead tree within its grip. It's so heavy that the Orc has to use both hands to be able to hold it up. If that were to hit me, I'd be a goner no matter on the armour I could wear.
I instantly make a dash towards, hoping to close the distance down. The reach the Orc now possesses is its most lethal weapons and so my best bet is to get up close. The Orc seemingly realising this, takes it first swing at me. The speed it comes at me is astonishing, much faster than it should've been. The immense strength the Orc wielding the large tree trunk was so vast that it even surprised the Orc itself, as it stumbled forward a bit, losing its balance slightly. If it wasn't for that I would've either had to take the hit, which would be death, or retreat backwards.
But now I'm able to slide under the trunk in time. I quickly build up my lost speed and hurtle towards the Orc. However, I keep an eye trained on the tree trunk as already the Orc has regained its balance. I'm thankful once again for my intuitive memory to not disregard the landform as it comes hurtling at me with a ferocious speed.
I've managed to close the distance to the Orc so that I have almost disregarded his range advantage. While still not close enough to land a decisive hit, I can't lose the ground I've managed to cover. Doing so would give the Orc the Range advantage along with his new found ability to efficiently wield the tree trunk. So I Improvise.
The landform weapon isn't just going horizontally but on a tilted angle with a trajectory upwards so that it would make contact with my face instead of my body. I decide to use this.
As the tree thrashes towards me, I time my jump. I flip 180degrees mid-air and just as the tree passes under me, I'm just higher enough above the tree to place my hands on it. Using the upwards trajectory, I push myself upwards with all my strength.
I begin hurtling upwards but I manage to keep my body in check and I'm still facing downwards as my feet come into contact with the roof. For a split second I feel like I'm floating, almost as if I'm able to walk on the ceiling of the dungeon. I see the Orc confused on where I have gone, not seeing me fly upwards. I also get a glimpse of the floor.
'It kind of looks... calming.'
But reality comes back as good old gravity reminded me of what is possible. So just before I'm forced back down to the ground, I push off the roof and, along with good old gravity, I pick up tremendous speed as I hurtle back towards the ground and my opponent.
The Orc is still bewildered to where I went, so I wish to remind him. In the space of 2 seconds, I turn my body mid-air and smash my right boots heel onto the green head of the Orc.
I hear the sound of its skull cracking, the squishy sound of its brain turning to mush, the splashes of blood spluttering to the ground as I continue to follow through. My leg splits the Orc in half as I feel my boot connect with a hard rock. It seems I have managed to generate enough force for my foot to go far enough into the monster's body that I managed to get to its monsters' core.
I allow myself a small smile of satisfaction and to appreciate that what I just did was kind of cool as I go to lift my leg out of the giant monster's body.
'That's...weird. I've just pulled gone to pull my leg out but it's still in the body.'
I try again.
Then again.
And again.
Now my smile has gone and I've pressed my left boot on the remnants of the monster's body to give myself some leverage.
Now I'm using both my hands as well. I'm still stuck.
It seems that when I split the monster in half, it wasn't as big of a split as I thought. Maybe if someone the size of Brant or Reg did this then the monster would have fully split in half. But it seems with my small sized Prum boots, I haven't made a big enough gap to pull my leg out.
I stop trying for a bit as I begin to think of what to do, making my body dangle from my stuck foot. Though only after a second of contemplation I realise that thinking won't get me anywhere.
"errrhh..."
I groan in annoyance as I'm left almost upside down, stuck in an Orc's body. Never have I been more grateful that I'm in the dungeon at the same time most adventurers are sleeping. I've done so well up to this point, partly thanks to my skill, to remain out of sight, keeping my identity and presence hidden.
I don't really won't my 7 and a half month streak to end with some adventurers coming up from the middle floors to see a 5-year-old stuck in a monster as his foot is half buried into its chest.
'In its chest?...'
"That's it!" I blurt out, my voice surprising myself with how loud it went as I come to a dramatic realisation.
I wiggle my foot once more just for clarification and... yes, I wasn't imagining it. The monster's crystal is just below my right ankle.
'If I can somehow break it, then the Orc will turn to ash, which will free me... but?'
I always tried to not break the magic crystals, as that is what gets me money. And Orc crystals are the highest valued magic stone I can currently acquire. So to destroy one will be a loss of money that I'm not sure I'm comfortable with.
CRRRRRrrrkkkkkkkkk!
The noise makes me force my already dangling head further backwards as I try to look at what made that noise. And as if to rub salt in the wound, the familiar noise of the dungeon floor cracking open once again plays in my ears as a dozen or so imps climb out of the dead biome.
'Well that's not good. At least it has made my decision easier.'
Seemingly giving me little choice on what to do, I instantly go for my knife situated on the left side of my belt.
The imps have seemed to have sniffed me out as I hear the rustling of the long, lifeless grass that fills these floors.
I'm now trying to not cut my leg open as I begin to pry the 6-inch blade into the small hole my boot has made.
The rustling is beginning to close in on me. I move faster.
"Tsssssss!"
I hiss in pain as I feel the warm sensation of blood dripping out of my calf. I don't slow down, instead the pain of my cut only makes me push the knife in faster.
The imps have grown close enough that I can hear the feet shuffle over the hard terrain but that is no longer my main concern as an even large cracking noise erupts from the floor. I don't need to turn around to know that an Orc has spawned in and has already made a note of his mutilated brother that I'm currently trapped within.
Suddenly I feel a hard object stop my knife's progress.
'Found it!'
I don't hesitate to push further. I use all my leg strength to push the Orc's corpse as open as I possibly can and push with all my might into the stone.
"UOOOOOOOOOOWWWWHHHHHH!"
The roar of the Orc makes me push harder. My ears are being terrorised with all kinds of noises. The rustling of grass, the nattering of hungry teeth, the pounding of giant footsteps, the cracking of the magic stone.
Just before the closest imp grabs my trouser leg, the dead Orc evaporates to ash, freeing me. I fall to the ground with a harsh landing but I don't bother wasting any time.
I push of my leg that I cut open, earning a quick grimace in pain as I jump away from the immediate danger. I instinctively swivel my knife into a fighting position. Even with the little experience I have with knife fighting, I'm still a close quarter combatant.
Seeing me jump away, the imps seem to not enjoy their prey escaping last minute and so they begin to run towards me. Their disgusting run does little to quell my cautiousness but instead of letting them come to me and allowing the Orc to also get in on the fight, I decide to take the fight to them.
Ignoring the pain in my leg, I tighten my grip on my knife and dash forward, ready to continue the endless fight between monsters and men.
I'm taking in gulps of air. That fight took longer than it should've have. After I managed to take out over half the imps, more just spawned. While slicing through each one with the knife, which I quickly got the hang of, the Orc joined the fray which only made things more challenging.
Finally after what felt like hours, I was able to sit down. Piles of ash lay everywhere. Some in large clumps, others only registering as barely a patch of ash at all. Some had purple glimmers nestled within them, but unfortunately, most did not as I didn't have time or space to properly kill the monsters properly.
As I sit down, finally catching my breath, I take a moment to just sit still. I normally don't do this in the dungeon but since I can't see, hear or sense any monsters near me, I take the moment to take a proper break for once.
I take my time slowly going round each pile of ash and collecting the purple magic stones and depositing them in my pouch. I then get my knife and wipe the blood on some of the dead grass, cleaning the blade somewhat. I'll still give it a proper wipe down when I get home.
For the first time, I'm able to check my armour to see how it fared the battle and to my surprise, while there are a few scratches and scrapes on my shin guards and metal arm guards, my armour seems to be in pretty good shape.
'Reg really did do a good job.'
I give a small smile at the thought of the blacksmith before I reminded of another issue I have to deal with.
I wince as I touch the side of my right calf that is still bleeding. I'm not entirely sure what to do as I never bring much equipment with me. The only thing I ever use for bandages are pieces of cheap cloth I'm able to afford and most of the time I just leave my cuts and bruises alone and allow them to naturally heal, my falna already helps massively in that regard.
It's not like I haven't dealt with anything like this before. Kobolds and War shadow have some nasty sharp claws and the Killer ants on floor 9 have their own razor sharp mandibles.
I guess it might be due to how tired I am that the pain feels worse than it usually does.
"ya need to build up your natural strength, meaning ya gonna need to use to gettin' hit."
Brant's words from earlier come back to me. It's now that I realise how right he is. If I want to continue fighting as recklessly as I do now, I'm going to continue to get hurt and if so, I'll need to get used to it.
As I look at the cut on my leg again to have a proper examination of the cut, I see it's just above my shin guard and slightly cutting into my shorts, meaning I'm going to need to do sewing when I get home.
I moan at the thought of more work to do but I decide not to think too much on it. After another 5 minutes, I force myself to stand up, trying to ignore the pain in my leg. It seems that after that small break, I've gained a bit of my energy again but not as much as I would've liked.
'I should start bringing food down with me but that would mean I'd need to get a bag to carry it. I suppose though that isn't so bad as I would be able to carry other stuff... like bandaging material.
As I'm thinking to myself I don't realise that no monsters have started spawning in the 5 minutes I was resting. While I was still looking out for them, it didn't register in my mind that at least one or two should have spawned in that time. Only a second later do I learn why no monsters are spawning.
All of a sudden, a wave of aura presses down on me. I almost freeze at the feeling. While not on the same level as Penia when she has her passive divine aura leak out, it still has a presence of strength.
Almost as if I were a beast person with animalistic instincts engrained in my DNA, I dart into a large patch of tall grass and lay down on my stomach.
This aura was something I had never experienced. I have felt the presence of strong monsters, compared to me, and this is completely different. It is in a whole other league. It's definitely the reason why no monsters have spawned in the past 5 minutes. Whatever is produces this presence is saying there strong enough to kill anything down here.
I instinctively know that whatever is coming is not a monster, well not one similar to any I've fought over my 7 and a half months.
That's when I hear it. The definitive proof that whatever is emanating such a feeling is not a monster.
"Errrrrrrrrr... my legs are tired."
'A person?'
"Oh stop ya moaning, we're almost there!"
'No... adventurers.'
I had never come near adventurers that could protrude such strength. I hear them make their way onto floor 12 as the sound of boots shuffling along the ground begins to intensify. Then sure enough, after only a few more seconds of waiting with bated breath, I see it.
I'm not entirely sure what it is. A large, thin wooden pole with a white piece of thick... fabric? I'm unsure of the material but what I'm even more unsure of is what is printed on the fabric.
"Why do I have to lug this banner around still?" The human carrying the now named banner groans.
A wolf girl next to him sighs as she gives him an annoyed look.
"So other adventurers know that it's us so they don't get in our way, dipshit!"
"Language!"
A rough Amazonian shouts at the young beast-woman. I know just from hearing her voice that she is a superior to the other two.
I try to get a closer look at the banner. It appears to have some sort of drawing on it. If I had to compare it to anything, It'd probably be the falna emblem on my back.
So the question now is, who are these adventurers? Why are there so many of them and are they that important that need to carry a banner around just to signify who they are?
Then to answer my question I see two figures make their way to the front. One is most definitely a Prum with blonde hair, carrying a golden spear. The other a tall, green haired-elf dressed in long robes.
"Captain Finn can you pass banner duty onto someone else, please?" The banner carrier moaned.
"Well you should have thought of not being so reckless then, Morgan?" The elf answered.
'So she's the captain. Finn's a weird name for a elf?'
"But with you guys at the front, surely others will recognise you as the captain and vice-captain of the Loki Familia!" Morgan shouted.
'...oh.'
I don't remember much after hearing that. The Loki Familia trudged past but my mind wasn't observing them. It was only after my mind processed what I had heard did my eyes follow the stragglers, narrowed to slits as I stared daggers after them.
'So they are the ones who ruined everything.'
Percy has armour, woooo! He also has seen the Loki Familia and judging from the way he looked at them, i'd say he doesn't really like them, but thats for next chapter and others beyond.
I wanted to write another fight scene with monsters because I don't get to do that much since I prefer to explore the people/adventurers relationships more so I had a bit of fun doing it.
Not really much to say apart from please leave a review on what you think of the story and especially any theories you think could happen in the future, always enjoy reading about them.
Speaking of... Review time:
Aiden12: That is a cool fun fact that I have recently learnt myself. I wonder why Meteria named our protag Perseus? Hmmmmmmmmm
Roland Tepes (Still a sick name btw): Magic charged Mike Tyson... I mean, pretty much but no in a way. Percy doesn't just use his hands, he's a brawler not just a boxer.
Guest: Bell's guilt is something I'm defo going to explore and that is something I'm really looking forward to writing. As for pairing, I don't know yet. BellxAis is most likely but for Percy ends up with, I wonder if anyone could guess. She will be introduced soon tho ;)
Since that's everything, I'll see ya next time. Peace!