For all his life, the boy had never felt as dizzy as the present.
It's like drinking bucktons of mead, one bottle after another until he was knocked out cold on the bloody ground.
Except he wasn't drunk. He shouldn't be, not when he had never touched alcohol all his life. Not when he was about to have a clean start.
"Hey you. You are finally awake."
The boy looked towards the blond man sitting opposite of him. The tremors coming from the rolling wheels below helped him gain his wits–if only a little.
"You don't look so good, lad," commented the stranger, "Not too late to turn back home, you know?"
"Tch, as if," he scoffed without thinking, finding comfort from the handles of his arming sword and round shield, "I'm not a house cat stuck behind a window," he eyed the man's attire afterward, and the ring around his finger, "Not afraid to make your wife a widow?"
"She passed away months ago," the man chuckled, melancholic as he caressed the ring, "No family to return to," he then glanced at the boy, studying him, "Same goes for you, I take it?"
It was a question that went unanswered.
"I am going to be an adventurer too. Let's keep our guts inside, shall we?"
The horse in front galloped when the driver pulled its reins, marking the end of the transport's journey. The blond man didn't say anything as he left the carriage, leaving the younger male alone to his thoughts.
"Brat, when will you come out?" gruffed an unknown man – the driver – with arm directed towards him, "Pay up. Two hundred valis as agreed."
The passenger fetched a small purse dangling from his belt – one he had prepared before his journey for the sake of convenience – before leaving the carriage towards the population office at the gate.
It was a sight that stole the Cat-person's breath. Not the office, but the huge gate framed to a white wall three times taller
Thinking of how many zeroes were spent to create it was mind-blowing
"A traveling kid? Really now?" drawled the middle-aged lady at the counter, her face deadpan as she gazed down at him , "How old are you? Ten?"
"Twelve."
The lady scoffed but didn't comment further. Instead, she prepared an empty form and a pen, not trusting the boy to be competent enough to fill them himself, "Name?"
"Jura Halmer–"
His world erupted, his mind a flash of lightning.
A kind-looking God, with tanned skin and long white hair, arm stretched towards the impressionable mortal before him.
"Boy?"
Gleeful youth eyeing a bumpkin Elf, plotting to cash her in to the Red-Light District for extra valis.
Dastard teen with a detonator in hand, destroying a forest and all inside with a carefree laughter.
Haunted lunatic with a whip at hand, barking a giant snake to kill the demon and the wannabe hero.
The boy gasped, sweating and shaking, "H–huh...?"
At his lacking attention, the lady inhaled, murmuring something so low his cat-ears couldn't hear. She gathered all the patience she had while forcing a false smile, "Purpose of visit?"
"I…"
"–will be the very best! Like no one ever was!"
"... want to be an adventurer."
"Hmph," her mocking sneer entered his ears, "Your funeral."
A flash of black, of approaching tail which tore the world asunder.
Anger boiled inside him. He sure didn't linger after he accepted his identification paper, entering the gate without dally.
Welcome to Orario.
Jura didn't know what those bizarre images were all about. Maybe some weird magic done by local pranksters, tricking bumpkins passing through the gates for their twisted amusement. Or maybe some mischievous Deus Dea got too bored for everyone's liking.
Either way, it didn't explain this oddity he had been feeling ever since.
The sweet store at the end of the road, the bar five establishments at the opposite end, the crowded cafe he had passed, the pubs, the bakeries…
Jura Halmer had never been here before. Orario was a completely new environment for him. So why did everything feel so strangely familiar?
An old woman lazily gazed up from the magazine she had been reading, "One night, 1200 valis. No breakfast."
Why did it feel like he had done all this before?
As he walked down the stairs outside the inn's entrance, Jura could envision himself turning to the left, asking the fruit vendor for a direction to the Guild, at which he turned right to a three-way intersection, then straight left until he arrived at the circular street of Babel, before going west until he found a large building with 'Guild Hall' written on top.
Nervousness churned his stomach, and Jura turned right instead out of indescribable need for defiance. He walked without thinking, letting small nudges of instinct carry him forward, and what appeared to be a walk without direction was apparently not.
Because the Guild Hall was there halfway through the street, filled with adventurers going about their merry way.
An exasperated sigh escaped the young boy. Jura ran his hand on his hair out of frustration, only to feel even more frustrated by the mysterious relief of having a whole pair of ears.
"Seriously. The hell is wrong with me?"
Without further ado, the Cat-person went past the wide entrance, subconsciously expecting a blond-haired receptionist among many others, one he purposely ignored for the sake of anyone else.
"Yes. We have plenty of Familias seeking new members, Halmer-san," a red-haired werewolf trailed off, rummaging through papers which had most likely been prepared for newcomers such as him, "Mm, let's see here. First off, there's Belenus Familia: an F-Rank exploration type with 10 Level 1 adventurers."
Jura merely stood there before the desk, listening to the staff who went out with short summaries of differing Familias.
"There's also Zelus Familia: an F-Rank exploration with–"
For every Familia, for every Gods and Goddesses mentioned.
Jura felt like hearing the names of dead people.
"Last but not least, Rudra Familia. They are an E-Rank Familia though, so it's less likely to get accepted by… Halmer-san, are you alright? You look a bit pale."
"Uh, yeah. Must be the long ride getting to me," he gulped before taking a deep breath, "Fannet-san, could you please give me a list of address to work with?"
"Of course," smiled the young beauty, handing him over a paper filled with a list of low-rank Familia and their respective addresses. "I wish you good luck, Halmer-san."
The boy nodded in thanks to the older girl before departing the building.
Green eyes stared at the Familia names written in the second columns, oddly repulsed by what they conceived. People he had never met. Names he had never heard.
"Sorry. Best of luck elsewhere."
"We are looking for someone with more experience."
"Don't bother. Our Goddess doesn't have the time for weaklings like you."
He scowled at the images of tall closed gates, and the guardsmen who stared at him with a sense of superiority.
And the promise of vengeance, and the malicious glee as those pompous bastards brought low.
Crushed under the weight of rubbles.
Burnt in the flame of incendiary explosions.
Splintered by the edge of sharpened steel
Weak. Powerless. Their Falna muted as their haughty Deus Dea ascended to Tenkai, helpless just like their slaughtered children.
Just like the boy they had turned away from their abodes. The boy they had looked down with no chance to prove himself.
His hand lowered, his face conflicted as he growled, "Gimme a break."
It was wrong. Jura Halmer shouldn't be feeling any of this. These people didn't wrong him; he bore no grudge on them.
"Not yet."
Two halves of a man, a cat person with one ear cut. His upper half floated above his standing lower body, blood and viscera seeping out from the lethal wound which split him in two.
"But you will."
Hissing, Jura pocketed the slightly crumpled paper, not bothering to read any of the written address.
Despite how disgusting these imaginations had been, they had taught him one thing he could agree on. Jura Halmer was a twelve years old boy with nothing to his name. Nothing but a simple set of armor, a sword, and a shield: equipment that could be bought from anywhere as long as one had the money.
If he wanted to join a good Familia, he had to prove himself worthy to be in.
Deus Dea and their Familia wanted more than just words. Something solid to show his skill without having to commit much on their parts. Something that differentiate him from the many others who sought to be an adventurer.
A dangerous thought aimed his gaze towards the proving ground of deadly struggle, marked by the tallest tower in the world.
The young boy gulped, feeling cold sweat building on his hands and liquid heat rummaging inside his chest. The rational part of him chided his own foolishness for having such an idea, while the more adventurous part was all too eager to go.
With a mixture of conflicting emotions, Jura Halmer stepped forward to a fate unknown.
And so another branch was made within the infinity known as the future.
Kobolds and Goblins were hardly strangers to all aspiring adventurers.
As the denizens of the upper floors, they were the first to flow out the Dungeon back at the Ancient Time. They were weak and made for perfect monster-killing practice all around the world.
However, this boy wouldn't delude himself by thinking the task would be a breeze.
Monsters on the surface were multiple times weaker than the ones in the Dungeon. This was due asexual reproduction which required the splitting of magic stones' power.
As a result, each generation of monsters on the surface were weaker than the last.
Meanwhile, the monsters in the Dungeon came straight from the Dungeon. They were the 'first generation' and were many times stronger than monsters roaming about on the surface.
Jura Halmer was proven right.
One Goblin leapt at him with swiftness incomparable to any monsters he had encountered. He bashed the airborne monster and cut off its neck before it could gather its footing.
Jura's heart thundered in his ears as he hastily harvested his first ever kill in the Dungeon. It was a short encounter which left him unharmed, but wasn't as easy as it appeared to be.
The Goblin he killed was alone and it had stupidly given up its footing by jumping to his face. Goblins usually came in packs, and having to fight them one-to-many could end very differently for him.
Doubt slowly crept into young Halmer's chest before he quenched it by force. To be an adventurer was to walk with death. If Jura Halmer wanted to play safe, he'd have stuck himself milking cows back at the ranch.
Teeth gritted; he snarled at the visage of a dismembered man.
Jura Halmer was no damn coward.
The unblessed kept his sword unsheathed as he delved deeper into one of many routes on the 1st floor, ensuring for one last time that he remembered the path back to the surface.
Three Goblins growled as they idle around in boredom. One much further away than the rest while one of the closer two began to stroll towards the corner he was hiding.
Two Goblins watched as its brethren's head flew. Mindlessly, they ran to the surface-dweller like starving children to a chunk of grilled meat.
A green face kissed the hard end of Jura's shield before losing half of its chest. The last, already so close to reach him, managed to claw his leather-padded arm at the cost of its own life.
"Four…" he mumbled as he fetched a healing potion from his belt, downing them all in a hurry.
Would it be enough? Should he go back?
'No.' Jura answered his own question.
Ten. Maybe more but not less. That was the number he set before delving into the 1st floor of the Dungeon–
"RAAAHHHHR"
"FUCK!"
A goblin hatched out from the wall beside him. His shield was lifted on instinct, blocking the offending claws from reaching his face. It frustratedly attempted to pull the round object away, ignorant of the sharp metal beneath the shield stabbing into its waist.
It lost its strength as the blade ripped its organs, and a clean strike to its head freed it from the living.
The ambush had shocked the twelve years old, but there was no respite in the hostile environment of the Dungeon.
For a pack of Kobolds had spotted him from the end of the tunnel, having traced the presence of a lone adventurer nearby.
With gritted teeth Jura raised his shield, squeezing whatever tricks he had to survive the day.
—
"My cousin is out fighting dragons and what do I get? Guard duty."
The civilian blinked, looking at the insane guard up and down before leaving as if not hearing anything.
"Dude, uncool," a chiding voice came from behind him. "Don't be a nagger."
"Bah. Come on, Bob. Lax up a little," waved off the teenager with a military haircut as he turned, "There's no harm with nonsensical one-liners. It's not like I'm abusing civies or anything."
Unless making them weirded out was considered an abuse, which it wasn't.
Hashana Dorlia had to raise his chin to meet his partner face to face. Bob No-Last-Name was a tall man indeed. Two meters in height and heavily muscular, but the most prominent feature of all was the full-head white gas mask he wore all the time.
The man's figure was an intimidating sight. In fact, Hashana was sure that Bob was freaking the civies more than he was.
Not that Dorlia would say it aloud. Big Bobbie was definitely aware of what his spooky appearance did to people, but there were things not meant to be spoken.
"Hashana."
"Hm?"
Bob raised his lower arm and pointed his index finger. Hashana followed its trajectory.
A short kid approached their general position, the tall tower Babel behind him.
None knew what expression Bob was making, but Hashana's frown was free for all to see.
The boy was on his last leg for sure. Dry blood marred him all around. Even his armor wasn't in good shape, looking worse for wear than beggars' clothes.
It didn't take much to deduce what had happened. Exploration went wrong. Party died. Sole survivor.
Quite a rare sight it was. Not because explorations rarely went wrong, just that there usually was no survivor to tell the tale.
Both shared a look. Ganesha Guards were not expected to assist ill-fated adventurers. What could they even do? It's not like they could retrieve anything of note when monsters get their hands on the fallen, less so resurrecting the dead.
Still, to do nothing would be a bad image to the public. The least they could do was care a little. Offer their ears and condolences.
They slowly approached the boy who walked their way. Just when Hashana was about to ask what was wrong, he was quickly silenced by a small purse.
Gray eyes stared at the container he had instinctively taken, confused if anything.
'Was this bribery? Whatever for?'
"Twelve monsters."
Hashana glanced his eyes up. Didn't take much to meet the shorty's face.
Gray met green. Tired, but full of desire to prove his worth to the world.
"Would that make me good enough for Ganesha Familia?"