More adventures with our white haired pretty boy and the true dragon daughter!
The room was getting darker. They'd stayed in place for quite a while and the fading light was becoming noticeable. Bell couldn't even see more than a meter overhead now, the higher placed crystals having seemingly burned out. The space was becoming tighter.
"Is this place… shrinking?"
Bell had only been voicing a random thought. He hadn't been expecting any sort of answer.
"Rooms like this, only for a little while."
The boy turned to Wiene. A round pastry sat in her clawed grasp, a rather large chomp missing from it and the red jelly filling exposed. Before he had left for his excursion, Syr had forced a boxed meal on him. An insanely dense meal that would have been at least three servings for him alone. When Wiene's belly started rumbling, sharing it was a pretty simple affair.
Bell took a quick sip from his canteen, nodding for the blue haired girl to continue. "A secret place, I think. I found… enough on the way up. Safe to rest, but not forever."
Offering the girl his drink, Bell mused, "It… forces you out?"
Wiene hummed in agreement as she took a long swig. "Smaller and smaller. If you don't leave… maybe get crushed? Never stayed that long."
Bell tore at a strip of dried meat. As he chewed, something in his charge's words peaked his interest. "How long have you been down here, Wiene?"
The use of her name brightened the girl's features for a moment before a wave of memories soured her mood. Wiene swallowed her mouthful, lowering the half eaten sweet and casting her gaze downward.
"A long time. I was further down when I woke up the first time. The monsters came quickly. Thy bit at me, clawed at me, all I could do was run. When I found my first secret place, I was covered in blood. My eyes couldn't stay open and I just fell."
He couldn't help the way his throat tightened, his fists clenching. The past was something he couldn't help, but it didn't stop Bell from feeling frustrated.
"When I came to, everything was tight and dark. I rolled out and the hole closed up behind me. My body ached, but it was easier to move. I knew I needed to go up. I don't know how I knew, I just kept moving.
"It was hard whenever I was awake. If I wasn't quiet, the others would come for me. I learned how to be quiet, how to be fast. I only slept when I could find a secret place, maybe twelve times? Sometimes it took very long to find them but I was too scared to ever sleep outside."
Bell was horrified. Though the timeline was fairly loose, it sounded like Wiene had been slinking through the dungeon for two weeks at a minimum. This girl who seemed about as mature as a ten year old had survived underground for half as long as he'd been an adventurer. By herself.
"Am I the first person you've met?"
Wiene turned her gaze to meet his own. There was clear hesitation in her eyes.
"You… were not the first."
She didn't speak further on the matter. She didn't need to. It wasn't very long ago that Bell himself had almost drawn his knife on her once realizing she was born of the dungeon.
The boy felt sickened.
"So you found a lot of these hidden rooms as you climbed up the floors?" Changing the subject was a knee-jerk reaction. To Bell's credit, it seemed to help Wiene's mood.
"I don't know," Wiene paused, trying to sort through her own thoughts, "how I kept finding them. A feeling, like the one that told me to go up, would lead me to them. When I was too tired, too hurt, I'd follow it and find a safe place."
Bell couldn't help being interested. "So… it was like instinct?"
"In-stink?" Wiene started sniffing the air… then herself. Her white haired savior had to physically ward her off when she tried smelling him, laughter rumbling up from his throat.
As Bell explained that he did not, in fact, smell something she couldn't, the rookie adventurer went over what he'd just learned.
Knowledge on monsters was largely limited to classification and the best methods of defeating them. Information on the dungeon itself was even more scant, though there was a general understanding that there existed a certain hierarchy to the place, like how the deeper one goes the more perilous it becomes.
Your average adventurer simply never gave much thought to such things. Philosophical ponderings on the nature of this subterranean realm and the beings birthed from its walls just weren't deemed important, not when survival skills and combat prowess made the difference between life and death on a daily basis. Dungeon delving, for a lot of people, is part of their livelihood.
But talking with Wiene – hell, the fact that Wiene even existed – brought up some rather demanding questions. Bell had never heard anyone speak of finding secret rooms before. Not even Eina, who he regarded as an expert source of knowledge. And a being like Wiene, a monster who talks and cries, Bell was still having a hard time truly grasping that.
What was the dungeon? Why would it create someone like Wiene only for her to suffer within its confines? She said she'd been hunted without mercy by other monsters, which wasn't entirely unheard of. But the way she described it, the dungeon's denizens treated her no differently than they did those from the surface.
Born from its walls yet treated like an invader. Bell's heart went out for the girl.
After stroking down the length of her nose for quite some time, making sure her sense of smell was in fact working properly, Wiene plopped the rest of her pastry into her mouth. This had the welcome effect of bulging out one of her cheeks, like a big blue chipmunk. Bell spat up his half chewed morsel, unable to control his own humor.
Wiene took a moment before laughing herself. Evidently, she proved the more adept multi-tasker, managing not to choke on her mouthful. Bell could only bow in chuckling humiliation, the dour atmosphere of earlier promptly dismissed.
An odd rumble shook the chamber. Another of the glowing green crystals faded away, further darkening the space. The laughing pair clammed up in an instant, waiting for something to happen. After several seconds, Bell allowed himself to breathe again.
"Have to leave soon." Wiene's tone wasn't particularly pleased, but she seemed composed enough, almost thoughtful in regards to her own statement.
Bell nodded, taking another bite of his dried meat. Glancing down at the remains of his snack and then back to Wiene, the boy offered the rest to her. This was expertly timed as a shrill gurgle sounded from the girl's belly. Wiene didn't bother with embarrassment and took the morsel without a word.
And also without a word, Wiene passed the canteen back to her savior. Bell favored her with a bright smile, one that his new charge rapidly reciprocated.
Well, she put on the grin after shoveling her savory treat entirely into her mouth. Bell pinched the bridge of his nose, looking down as he slowly shook his head, grinning from ear to ear.
They emerged some point midway up the dungeon wall. Bell stamped down and immediately lost his footing at the uneven ground. Of all the places to exit, a staircase may have been the most awkward.
Just as Bell had regained his balance, Wiene made her entrance. The blue haired child dropped down on top of the young adventurer, landing comfortably atop his shoulders. Bell was less than ready for impact, more so when Wiene's cloak veiled his vision.
As expected, the boy tumbled down the stairs. His young charge rolled off his shoulders, knocking against a wall but managing to stop herself. Bell spiraled another three meters before catching himself on an elbow.
Wiene was crouched over him in seconds. "Bell," she cried, "Bell is hurt? I hurt Bell?" Through pained hissing, the rookie adventurer took in the scuffs decorating the girl's face. They were all the more apparent after Bell'd taken time before to wipe her features clean.
With his non-supporting arm, Bell reached up to ruffle Wiene's hair. The girl hummed, the sound oddly indignant.
Glancing up the wall from whence they'd emerged, the young man watched as the shrinking hole continued to flow back in on itself. In moments their "safe room" was indistinguishable from any other dungeon surface.
Thinking back to Wiene's words, he wondered if they would have been absorbed into the earth itself if they hadn't left.
Bell's new ward shook and pulled his jacket sleeve. Remembering himself and where they were, the boy curled back onto his feet. His red orbs facing upward, he pushed past Wiene to take the lead, his right hand drawing his knife from its sheath.
The pair ascended the staircase at a cautious speed, Wiene staying right on Bell's hip. The dungeon crystals radiated a soft blue, barely illuminating the tight confines of the staircase. Rising into the area above, Bell came to an abrupt halt.
A curious aspect of the dungeon was how it simulated a day-night cycle. The luminous gems that dotted the underground not only varied in colors, they predictably waxed and waned according to the time of day. Because of this, it was a relatively simple matter for dungeon delvers to keep tabs on how long they spent below ground.
But the most important thing about this cycle for adventurers was that it served as an early warning system. It was a well known fact across the world that monsters grew stronger and more aggressive during the night. Within the dungeon this effect was magnified ten-fold, another barrier between rookie and veteran adventurers.
For Bell, this was the first time he'd been down here after dark.
The light was far too brief, barely stretching a few meters from the scattered sources he could see. The space looked to be a large cavern, interrupted throughout by dense rock formations and towering stalagmites. It was far too silent and far too still, the pitch black dominating the area.
In the back of his mind, Bell couldn't help but recall the fight with the Irregular. He and his friends had been ambushed in a space quite similar to this and had fought tooth and nail just to drive the enemy off. If those kobolds attacked now, while it was only him, bumbling around in the darkness-
Wiene grabbed his sleeve and stepped forward. In the soft glow, the boy could see her nose twitch, her pointed ears flicker. Even her eyes seemed to radiate a mild amber.
She did mention that she didn't always make it to safety in time to sleep.
Wordlessly, the small girl lead him forward. Bell did his best to walk quietly, but even the slightest shuffle seemed to blare out in the stillness. By comparison, Wiene had the presence of a ghost. If not for her grip on his arm, he might have forgotten she was there.
Their path meandered, Bell just making out obstacles in the darkness that his ward slowly navigated. An errant step brought the pair into a shallow pool of water, the sound echoing throughout the gloom. Wiene halted immediately, Bell mimicking her stop and sinking into a ready stance. He saw the girl reach down as he swept his squinted gaze across the cavern.
The silence persisted for a few seconds. Then the rustle of falling sediment caught his ear, the boy freezing in place. The world stilled once more.
Soft skittering dashed across the floor somewhere behind them, opposite the previous noise. A sharp yank from Wiene spurred Bell into a run, three steps clearing the standing pool with a splashing cacophony.
All at once, the skittering erupted from several sources all throughout the chamber. In the dim blue, Bell spied swift shapes darting through the shadows.
Wiene took a sharp turn. Her tight grip on Bell had him following close behind, ducking past a dense cave formation. Something landed on the mass of rock and a set of large, blood red eyes glared down at the two. Bell lashed out with his knife, cleaving through the two red orbs.
A shrill screech tore through the cavern as something with a few too many legs toppled to the ground below. Bell flinched at the sound but Wiene urged him onwards. And then high pitched calls rang out from the darkness, coming in from every direction, including above. Bell almost overtook the girl in his renewed haste.
The pair ducked through a crevice into a shroud of shadows. Bell saw Wiene palming something, her arm shooting out as they dashed into the gloom. The harsh rap of a stone knocking across the floor drew the boy's attention, his knife hand raised. A second series of light crashes from the opposite direction almost sent him reeling, his senses on high alert for an attack at any moment.
Then he realized the series of skips were moving away from them. Wiene shot out of the gap between rocks, never losing pace as she charged Bell across open ground to another stone outcropping. As they passed through another patch of dull light, the rookie adventurer watched as she pitched a pebble out into the darkness.
Pretty smart.
Reaching cover, Wiene fell to a knee against the stone structure, pulling her guardian down next to her. With their close proximity, Bell could see her press a finger over her lips. He immediately held his breath.
All throughout the underground they could hear the distant shuffling of many legs. The pained cries of the thing Bell slashed earlier still called out from the shadows, though the tone was weakening. Other chirps chimed out all around them, the closer ones far more aggressive. But none sounded near enough to be of imminent danger.
They'd evaded trouble for the time being.
Wiene closed her eyes and tilted her head backwards. Hardly audible, the blue haired girl began sniffing the air. She scrunched up her nose for a moment, something foul souring her senses, before she started turning her head in various directions, sniffing all the while.
Something caught Wiene's interest, the monster child leaning in a particular direction. Her grip on Bell's sleeve tightened, her left ear flickering. The knife wielder noted that the aggressive sounds were coming closer.
The girl started moving. The pace she set was far slower than before, their crouched forms emphasizing caution. Bell stayed close behind her as she lead on, focusing on staying quiet and trusting Wiene to navigate obstacles.
It came as a shock to the young adventurer when they hit the bottom of a staircase. The lighting in the passage ahead was far better than the previous chamber, revealing a considerable ascent. The pair quickly scampered up the steps before the creatures behind could spot them.
A ways up the staircase, Bell felt it safe enough to whisper, "How did you find the way up so quickly? Is this the way you climbed up the first time?"
"No. I just followed the smell."
Bell quirked a brow, "Smell?"
"The air is clearer this way, smells more like Bell. When I follow it, I always head upwards."
He didn't have anything else to add, humming in affirmation. Being a monster, Wiene certainly had powerful senses. Bell imagined relying on them had been a key part of her survival up til now.
They were still climbing when the boy left his thoughts. At this point the dungeon delver began to recognize the area. This long staircase was commonly known as The Ant Hill. It got this name from the chamber they'd just left, an open room famous as a spawning point for particularly vicious killer ants. Some people called it The Throne Room due to a rather rare monster variant that sometimes appears.
On his route down, Bell had mentally marked this area with a big, red X. Although the nest itself rested in a remote part of the tenth floor, the staircase leading down to it started on the sixth. The place was a well known death trap for overzealous, rookie adventurers. Bell imagined the only reason they had escaped was due to the disruption of the minotaur horde, it being the best way he could account for the lack of monsters in the room.
The image of that goblin being brutalized flashed through his mind.
Shaking his thoughts clear, Bell paused at the thin barrier blocking his path. Wiene, her arm outstretched before his waist, surveyed the length of the tunnel ahead. Bell stayed ready, weapon raised, as his charge slowly trained her senses down both ends of the hallway. After a short while, she stood and started down the left passage, beckoning Bell to follow.
The sky was painted orange, the first streaks of violet touching the high heavens. The lonely road they traveled had long since departed the main thoroughfare to Orario, the dungeon city and its massive tower like a small model in the distance. Due to the lack of foot traffic, the path was thick with overgrowth and broken up with bits of foliage.
This made very little difference to Foust. Just walking along the geomancer could feel the old, disturbed earth of the man made route. Even with the lack of recent care picking it out from the natural ground was a simple affair.
The not so simple part was weathering his current company.
"We there yet?"
Foust turned to Ghiran, ice flowing through his veins. "You see this forest to our left?"
Ghiran looked the way his partner indicated. There was, indeed, a thick, deciduous forest jutted up against the left side of the trail. On several occasions, the old road meandered a ways into the woods before emerging back into the rolling plains.
The axe wielder took a modicum of time to respond, as though tossing the answer over in his mind. "Yes."
"You remember what I said before?"
"… Yes."
"… Repeat it back to me."
"We," he spoke in a saccharine mockery of Foust's usual monotone, "will need to pass through the main gate-"
"After that."
"Cross the eastern fields-"
"After that."
"Circumvent the old forest and arrive at Wander's Rest."
"Yes, that part. Have we passed the forest yet?"
Ghiran gave a stupid grin, "Well, technically-"
"Have we stopped walking past it?" The hint of heat in Foust's tone only amused his comrade further, the taller man sticking out his tongue in response.
"I guess not," was the beautiful boy's final answer.
Foust, eyes straight ahead, nodded. The pair continued walking for a short while.
"So, we'll be there soon?"
The earth mage stopped, Ghiran halting right alongside him. Foust shut his eyes and inclined his head, breathing in deeply. The leather clad warrior actually became a little nervous for a moment.
Foust stomped the ground, the sound reverberating throughout the area. After a beat of silence, the earth beneath him bulged up like a large mole hill. Taking an instance to ensure his balance, Foust started gliding forward as the bulge pushed its way across the field.
Ghiran, looking enthused, moved to jump on the bump of earth with his friend. The mobile mound jerked forward beneath him, Ghiran face-planting from the awkward landing. Foust slowed down just enough to toss a comment over his shoulder.
"To answer your question, I suppose I'll be getting there soon. But don't worry, I'm sure he won't mind waiting for you."
With that, Foust's simple mount surged down the trail. The steel haired caster was a blip on the horizon in minutes.
Ghiran couldn't help but laugh. He'd count that as a draw, hauling himself to his feet and starting down the path at a good run.
Wander's Rest was a curious spot. A massive, crescent shaped trench, wide enough to drive a wagon through scarred the landscape. The raised area confined within these borders was large enough to house a small villa, the space overgrown with long grass.
Instead of a settlement, a small fort rested here. The dark stone structure stood on the inner edge of the trench, at the center of the crescent. The curved wall of the fort followed the rim of the trench for a few meters in either direction. A single, gaping archway served as the only functional passage through the barrier.
There was no hint of a gate or any sort of door to close the portal. The crumbled remnants of a stone bridge that once spanned across the crescent lowland were now a weathered pile of rubble in the curved valley below.
A man sat on a cracked and lopsided post of stone, once part of the ruined bridge, staring out across the endless fields on the far side of the divide. His leg lazily kicked a chunk of rock over the broken edge of the old bridge, relishing the breeze that swept through his long, tangled lockes of grey hair.
He was an old figure, a heavy grey beard going along with his unkempt mane. A single, somewhat hazy blue eye watched a pair of small birds dart across the horizon, its twin on the left covered by a raggedy, brown band. His skin was well tanned, thick hands wrapped around the solid shaft of a wooden walking stick jabbed partway into the ground.
Through his gnarled cane, the seated man could feel a soft tremor in the earth. The magnitude increased rapidly, prompting a toothy, white grin out of the old timer. He shifted his right shoulder, his blue cotton cloak falling off his arm. In his outstretched hand, he held the rough cane with rigid strength.
Foust barreled through a nearby section of wall. He had his hands out in front of him, blasting rock away from him with relative ease. Unfortunately, such feats would do little for him if he went off the cliff ahead.
The diminutive mage crashed gut-first into the outstretched staff. His feet completely left the ground, dispelling his moving bulge of earth, the young man bent over the walking stick like laundry on a drying rack. The elder's arm swayed with the force of impact, but the added weight didn't appear to strain him at all.
Allowing his smile to diminish to a tight grin, the old man addressed, "You let Ghiran get a rise out of you?"
Foust groaned in answer, his dangling fingers and the toes of his boots floating just over the ground.
Now the smile was back on the old man's face, an audible twinkle to his too-white teeth. "I know… that you know better than to let yourself get too emotional. Using a mobility spell you haven't practiced. And without a chant, no less!"
Though the words were reprimanding, the tone was almost eager. That smile the man wore only grew wider as he spoke. Foust rolled his eyes at the "dressing down."
A swift jerk brought the crooked walking stick out from under Foust. The young mage landed on fingers and toes, balanced like a cat. His mint green gaze swung up towards the man in the blue cloak, regarding his casual grin with a touch of annoyance to his usual stoicism.
"Odd," Foust huffed, glaring at the elder, "can we please-"
"Olly-olly oxen~freeeeee!"
Foust was given only an instant before being smashed into the ground by a tremendous weight. Ghiran, lain prone across his back, had his arms spread wide like a soaring eagle. This gave the crushed magician room to rail his ribcage with several elbow strikes. Ghiran's only response was to laugh, his leather cuirass absorbing the blows.
"Get off me you idiot!"
"Admit defeat first, you should have known better than to challenge me to a foot race."
"I got here first."
Ghiran brought a probing finger against Foust's cheek, twisting the tip into his face. "You cheated. And I have achieved the position of dominance. Surrender is your only option."
Under his breath, the geomancer whispered a swift chant, covered by Ghiran's gloating. "… barrier ridge."
A slab of soil jutted up from below, launching Foust to his feet. His axe wielding ally was flung from his perch, landing flat on his back with a surprised "Ooomph!"
The old man, Odd, sunk into raucous laughter. This earned the familiar ire of Foust and a fresh burst of energy from Ghiran, the attractive warrior sitting up immediately.
"Hey Daddy," the brown haired man shouted, his tone that of an eager child.
Foust pinched his nose, groaning at the renewed booms of laughter being traded between Odd and Ghiran. Truly, if he ever found the moron who started that "Daddy" shit…
Patting down his garments and turning towards the calming Odd, Foust announced, "Listen boss, we might have something worth reporting."
Odd's countenance quickly sobered, his enthused expression now schooled into the polite grin of a doting grandparent.
"Very well. Of what do my precious children wish to speak?"
Wiene and Bell continued their ascent with relative ease. Most resistance was circumvented by the pale girl's superior senses. Whatever enemies they couldn't sneak past were swiftly evaded or dispatched by Bell's bladework.
This pattern persisted until level three.
By now Bell's confidence had buoyed, the quite familiar halls of the upper floors bringing an air of safety. Even the lighting seemed more radiant, the cyan glow as brilliant as moonlight. He was unprepared for the enemy's charge.
The crackling of stone rang out overhead. The traveling duo immediately glanced upward. Before he could blink, something clamped down on Bell's leg and yanked him off his feet.
Pure reflex bought the boy's knife hand swinging down on the disturbance. The killer ant was only a bit smaller than Wiene, belying its incredible strength. Bell's blade sunk through its left eye, deep into its skull, before the insect could do any real damage.
But it still sent the boy to the floor.
The crumbling from above sent a shower of dust and gravel over Bell's torso. The prone adventurer turned just as another ant collapsed on top of him. His left palm caught the creature just beneath its skull, holding its snapping mandibles away from his face.
Bell stabbed his knife into its center multiple times, his arm and front assailed by the ant's struggling limbs. The thing just didn't die fast enough, the sound of shifting stone coming out from several spots nearby.
The monster stopped moving, its form going limp. It was bigger than the one that bit him, heavier too. Bell couldn't shift it off in time, his right leg going numb.
A dark shape, skittering low to the ground, darted through his periphery. The swift form curved its path, racing towards his head.
Wiene, soundless as she had been throughout the journey, threw herself on the charging bug. Her pale form shone out like a beacon in the teal light, in stark contrast to the ant's black carapace. The two rolled a short distance before Wiene pitched the insect's head into the ground.
Her free hand was raised high, her dark talons glinting in the dungeon's glow. Plunging down, she raked her claws across the creature's skull. Wiene's sharpened nails shredded through the ant's head, its scarlet eyes fading to black in an instant.
Bell tossed his own defeated quarry into the path of a scampering bug. The disruption allowed him to get to his feet. He took a wide swipe at his flank, batting aside the long mandibles of an encroaching ant. Bell backpedaled a couple steps.
Wiene barreled into the deflected monster. A quick slash tore across its thorax, spraying the ground with dark ichor. The blue haired girl vaulted over the eviscerated insect, dashing past like a silent wraith.
The knife wielding adventurer turned on the killer ant climbing over its kin's corpse. The boy took a step forward and faltered, spikes of pain lancing through his injured leg. The monster cleared its obstacle, ready to run down its wounded prey.
Bell's knife spun into the bug's brow, sinking in right between the eyes. It fell forward in a limp heap, a stance Bell swiftly mirrored. He caught himself with both hands, gritting his teeth against the pain. A loud crunch rang out nearby, somewhere just out of view.
A high pitched trill drew Bell's attention. One last killer ant, its bladed jaws slowly pincering, stalked towards him. The boy palmed a nearby rock, his weapon now out of reach.
Before the approaching fiend could launch forward, a severed ant's head skipped across the ground in front of it. The bug paused, just long enough for the beheaded body to smash into it. The stricken monster staggered briefly, reorienting itself in rapid order.
And then Wiene collapsed on the large insect. For the first time throughout the encounter, the girl was not silent. A wrathful shriek tore free of her throat, the short cry cut off as Wiene thrust her talons into the creature's back. The killer ant turned its mandibles towards its attacker, but the monster child pinned it in place with her knee.
Bell watched, unmoving, as his charge ripped her hand free. Then she speared the bug with her other hand. The pattern repeated, faster with every strike. Bell watched for three cycles.
His eyes rose to Wiene's face, her mouth open in a breathless wail. Tears had pooled at the base of her eyes. Bell stood.
Wiene had lost herself. That familiar itch, the one that kept her alive, had flared up one again. She never like the Red, the scorching rage that seemed to flow through her. But it was necessary. When things got out of hand, she always gave herself over to the Red.
She was still ripping into the thing, whatever it was. Wiene couldn't really remember what she'd been fighting and at this point the mass of brackish fluid and exoskeleton was unrecognizable. Really, the whole thing was becoming rather indulgent, but Wiene didn't stop herself. Best to let the Red burn itself out…
Something touched her, a hand on her shoulder. She recognized the scent.
Wiene squashed the Red. She could feel it, still unsatisfied, howling all the way down to her core. There would be repercussions later, hunger pains. She didn't let it bother her. The Red had been ready to bare its fangs at Bell. That was simply not allowed.
Bell crouched over the girl, holding his palm against her. He watched the back of her head as her form rocked with heavy breaths. The rhythm of her breathing slowly evened out, Wiene rising to full height with Bell mimicking her movement.
The blue haired girl closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. Keeping a hold of her, Bell made sure to maintain a roving scan of the area. The boy blinked at a curious observation: the azure glow of the dungeon stones seemed to brighten a tad. When Wiene released her breath, the luminous crystals dimmed to normal levels. Very weird.
Feeling that whatever had taken the girl had passed, Bell leaned down into her line of sight. "Wiene? You okay?"
She nodded, swaying back a bit. Bell caught her with his free hand, supporting her weight. Wiene continued nodding thoughtlessly; although she seemed calm, she still wasn't all there. The various ant corpses had mostly decayed into ash.
"Red," she rasped, her voice barely above a whisper, "… comes and goes, always angry."
The shredded carcass in front of her, already reduced to bits, faded quicker than any of the others. The violet crystal that served as the monster's core rolled across the dungeon floor. Wiene's blank eyes snapped onto the shimmering stone.
"Always hungry."
Wiene dipped down onto one knee, the movement a little too smooth. Her arm reached out and snatched the magic stone off the floor. Bell wanted to ask what she was doing, but the words failed him when Wiene pitched the violet gem into her mouth.
The crunch that followed was deafening, somehow louder than the cracking of monster carapace from before. When she started to chew, Bell fought numerous urges to wince.
It was a thankfully brief time before she swallowed. Then Wiene started walking, the motions again too even after such a stressful encounter. She'd started towards another of the mostly gone ant bodies.
Bell flexed the fingers on his right hand. The reminder that he'd tossed his knife took precedence and the young adventurer stepped over to the impaled creature. He stomped down on its abdomen, for added leverage as well as ensuring the thing wasn't still alive. The bug didn't stir.
Planting his left palm atop the head, Bell grasped the handle in his right and gave a strong jerk. The blade didn't budge and Bell almost lost his grip. With a short growl, the young man braced his heel against the ant's skull, took hold of the knife's grip with both hands, and heaved.
The blade snapped free immediately, the boy flying backwards and toppling back-first into the dirt. He lay there for a moment with both arms extended, hands clamped around the knife, its edge pointed towards the ceiling.
Wiene was suddenly above him. Her hand reached up, catching some flickering thing twirling through the air. Then she popped it into her mouth, the dreaded crunches sounding again. Loosening his knife had snapped the magic stone free.
Still chewing, Wiene fixed the young adventurer with an even stare. It slowly became inquisitive as the obvious trance she was under began to fade. Bell had not moved, still prone on his back, knife in both hands, blade thrust upward.
"Bell needs help?"
His hands parted, weapon grasped in his right. Extended palms collapsed to the floor like felled trees, Wiene stepping back to dodge the left arm. She held another monster core, bringing it to her lips as she continued eyeing Bell.
The boy's gaze fell on the sparkling gem. "Are those tasty?" It felt like the dumbest question to ask at the time, but Bell just couldn't hold back. What else could he say to someone essentially eating money?
She shrugged, "No flavor really. When I see them, I want to eat them. I don't know why, but I feel better after. Lighter…"
Bell wasn't sure what that meant. More monster instinct, maybe? As his mind was busy drawing conclusions, Wiene popped the last purple rock into her mouth. Not wanting to sit and listen to another crunch-fest, Bell raised his left hand towards the girl.
Wiene took his palm up with her own. And then did noting more. Bell stared at her for a moment and then Wiene offered a "comforting" squeeze. The black blood which soaked her hands now covered his own. She was still working her jaw like a damn cow.
Bell sat up on his own.
"Anyone down here!?"
The young man got his feet under himself in quick fashion. At the same time Wiene curled in on her guardian's arm, her free hand coming in to wrap around it. The two knocked their heads together, the monster girl letting out a sharp yelp as she swallowed.
Footsteps padded in from the source of the shout. Following Wiene's cry, their pace increased exponentially.
Bell's hand switched from rubbing his head to snatching at the hood on Wiene's dark cloak. "Keep the hood up and your head down." The child gave a short nod and then tucked into Bell's side, straightening out her garment and getting ant blood all over it.
The footsteps drew closer. By the sound of it, a single person moving at a modest run, heavy footfalls indicating armored leggings. A yellow light bloomed from further down the tunnel, swiftly overtaking the ambient teal of the dungeon's "night."
A man about a head taller than Bell approached. A burst of wild, tawny hair flared out from his scalp, a pair of rounded ursine ears poking out from above his forehead. His green eyes looked dull with fatigue, dark bags beneath them marring his light complexion.
The man sniffed the air in a manner not dissimilar to Wiene, his large, arcing nose shifting.
Bell quickly recognized the black and white formal garb of a Guild employee. It stood out starkly against the folded bronze plates that ran the length of his arms. A bulbous, curved chest piece covered his shoulders and upper torso, a circular port over the center of his sternum providing the extra illumination.
An actual utility belt hung off his hips, laden with several heavy pouches and bound tools. From his kneecaps down were forward coverings of the same style as the bronze plates guarding his arms. These ended in solid black boots, the soles rimmed in dark polished metal.
His tired sights drifted around the space, roving over the nearby dissolving remains of the killer ants. The man's gaze lingered on Wiene, specifically drawn to the now ashing streaks of blood spread across her cloak. The silence was making Bell anxious.
"You two okay," the stranger questioned. The rookie adventurer couldn't help but note the air of strength and authority held within his voice, a far cry from the haggard image of his facial features. "Looks like you had some trouble."
Wiene shuffled ahead, "Bell… hurt his leg."
The man's gaze, if intense before, became laser focused. When Wiene shrunk back, the stranger relented some and advanced on the pair. He pulled a steel tin from a pocket on his belt, twisting it open and dipping his fingers into a peach colored cream within.
"Lift your pant leg, let me see."
Bell did as told and grimaced at the sight. The skin around his shin had turned an ugly purple/blue, a few visible indents marked with slowly flowing blood. The man laid down his tin, scraping the cream back into the container before retrieving a few sheets of moist cloth from a sealed pouch. He urged Bell to kneel down as he began wiping and dabbing at the wounds.
As the boy's stance lowered, the man spoke up, "So… this is a child hiding under this cloak, correct?" He never once looked up from his task and his voice remained calm and even.
But Bell felt his heart stall at the observation. The ramifications of this scenario were incredibly dubious on their own, without the added factor of Wiene being a talking monster. The rookie adventurer had nothing in the way of a good excuse.
"This is Wiene," the boy blurted out, "Wiene, say hi."
The blue haired girl clung tighter to his flank, summoning up whatever courage she could. She peeked towards the stranger, revealing one of her topaz eyes, "H-Hello, my name is Wiene. Th-Thank you for helping."
The first expression other than scrutiny and fatigue crossed his features as a warm grin spread across the man's lips.
"Hi Wiene. It's nice to meet you."
This seemed to bolster the girl's confidence as she stepped slightly away from Bell. Smile in place, she raised one of her clawed hands I a cheery wave. Both Bell and the man noted the sharp talons. The young dungeon delver halted mid breath at the display. His momentary healer gave another long glare at Wiene's filth encrusted talons. Then he promptly popped the top on the tin of salve and started spreading it on Bell's bruise. The boy continued holding his breath.
"You're Eina's boy, right? Only kid in the Hestia Familia?"
The air in Bell's lungs streamed out in a long huff. "Y-Yes, my name is Bell Cranel, it's very nice to meet you!"
The man looked back and forth from Bell – the boy's head nearly striking his own as he abruptly bowed – to Wiene – who had ceased her waving to imitate the young adventurer's stance. He scoffed and returned to mending the injury.
"Call me Yuta. I'm part of the Guild's Search and Rescue Group."
Bell looked up, Yuta dodging his head, with his mouth set in a silent "o." Eina had spoken briefly about the other divisions of the Guild. They'd been greatly expanded on and reorganized after Orario had been invaded a few years ago. Search and Rescue had primarily two jobs: saving lives during crisis and hunting down fugitives and aberrations on the upper floors of the dungeon.
Taking out a large patch of cloth, Yuta wrapped it around Bell's leg and held it tight with pins. He adjusted the pant leg before standing, brushing dirt off his knee.
"Cream should numb the pain. You'll be good to get out from here, the route up's been cleared all the way to the main staircase."
Then Yuta turned to Wiene. "You're pretty capable, aren't you?" The pale child hummed at the curious statement. Yuta smiled, "Seen younger than you head into the dungeon. They have their own reasons, but the ones who survive down here owe it to more than just luck."
Wiene continued to look confused, dragging a short laugh out of the rescue specialist. Then Yuta gave a nod to Bell, "Do me a favor and keep an eye on this rookie, will ya?"
That seemed to galvanize the girl. She swiftly reached out to take the boy's hand, sending Yuta a single, powerful nod. Bell had the sense to feel somewhat indignant.
Yuta eyed the dried, ashen blood still coating Wiene's clawed hands. Flecks of dark grime continued to crumble from her skin.
"When you get home," Yuta started, his inflection odd at points, "make sure to wash the blood off those claw-things you're wearing. Don't forget, when you get home."
As Wiene nodded along, hanging on the bear man's words, Bell inwardly sighed in relief. As long as that black blood covered her hands, you couldn't tell her talons were in fact part of her body. Yuta had given them a valid story-
Bell froze as he considered this. He thought back on the man's advice, specifically how he'd said it. Yuta had emphasized Wiene wash her hands "when she got home." And while the idea of her wearing claws wasn't completely outlandish, he'd come to that conclusion with swift certainty.
Wrapped up in his own thoughts, Bell took a moment to notice the bear eared man leaning towards him. The white haired rookie flinched as he came to, the Guild agent practically brow to brow with him.
"When you get to the surface, make sure to see Crossette. You understand? See Crossette."
The man stood. As soon as he reached full height, his head whipped around to the far end of the passage. Loud calls for aid echoed through the cave. From the lack of panic displayed, Bell assumed another member of the rescue party was the source.
His face sidelong to Wiene, he humored the girl with a quick wink. The gesture looked to perplex her and Yuta hummed out a chuckle or two. The rescue specialist took off down the tunnel, his chest light piercing through the blue ambiance ahead.
Bell and Wiene waited until Yuta and his bouncing light disappeared from view, the racing echoes of his footfalls fading. Once more immersed in the cyan gloom of the dungeon's night, Wiene gave a firm tug on the young man's arm.
"Come on Bell, I'll make sure you get out."
The little girl spoke like and held the visage of a determined action hero. It was only then that Bell came to a specific realization: he had done his grandfather's will, he had rescued a girl in the dungeon.
He was quite sure this was not the outcome his grandpa had expected.
So, secret rooms.
Lido and the Xenos make mention of there being numerous instances of these in the dungeon. "Hidden villages" that they make use of as short tern nesting grounds. Here, I'm using them to add a bit more flavor to the dungeon itself. These sanctuaries are not a permanent refuge, popping in and out of being when they please throughout the underground. Wiene mentions that, more often than not, instinct would lead her to such a safe place in order to rest and recover. But that safety is fleeting, the chambers themselves eventually collapsing in on themselves, perhaps even swallowing the unawares.
The Xenos think of the dungeon as a "mother." I'm taking that to a further conclusion: the dungeon is a parent that cares enough to provide moments of aid to its "children," but it does not coddle them. We're not quite at Ragyu Kiryuuin levels of depravity, but the dungeon won't be winning "Mother of the Year" anytime soon.
Onto Wiene herself, she really is a little bit of a badass in this story. I don't know if we ever got a time frame in canon between Wiene's birth and when she ran into Bell. Here I've gone with the minimum period of two weeks – though who's to say if it was longer or not – where she was surviving completely on her own. She displays a bit of strategy she learned in navigating the depths, using stealth and deception to outmaneuver the enemy. Her superior monster senses and instincts have also played a major role in her survival, that natural urge to climb higher allowing her to meet our white haired boy.
Wiene mentions that Bell was "not the first" surface dweller she encountered. To be continued…
The Red.
In the original Jumanji, there's a scene where Alan Parish relates his experience of nights within that damned jungle: "Then something screams… and you hear them eat… and you hope to God that you're not dessert." Being similarly alone in a hostile environment, plagued by endless adversaries and allowed only to rest within the fleeting safety of the dungeon's fickle hideaways… it's done a number on Wiene. She's had to harden up significantly not to perish at the claws/fangs/anything to those bigger, hungrier, and nastier than her lurking in the darkness.
The Red is Wiene's panic button. When the stress becomes too much, when flight isn't an option and fight is all that's left, she gives in to the Red. Think of it as the remnant of that all consuming rage she felt in her previous incarnation. Wiene has a bit of control over it, able to banish the bestial soul back into the recesses of her mind when needed. But the Red, when called, does expect to be "satisfied."
Foust and Ghiran make an appearance, their usual jabs being traded. Again, they'll be out of Orario for a while, but we'll check in with them here and there. Foust displays an ability to do "chantless" spells, though his control leaves a bit to be desired.
It's probably pretty obvious who "Odd" is meant to be, being an old, one eyed man who likes to wander. Also, you know… "Daddy." We'll see more of him and the rest of his familia in due time.
Wander's Rest is named after the main character from Shadow of the Colossus. The implication is that the massive crescent the fort is built upon in a gigantic hoof-print. Done mostly for fun… but maybe a concept I'll elaborate on in the future.
Yuta is meant to be a "bridge" character, moving the plot along and being the springboard for some world building. In the present, his appearance and instructions change the tone of the narrative, freeing us from the oppressive dungeon crawl and ensuring an air of safety for our characters. He also gives Bell and Wiene new objectives to achieve, the dragon girl taking her "new charge" with upmost seriousness. Through Yuta, we also get the Search and Rescue Group as a link to Orario's past, the division having been one of several overhauled/introduced in the wake of a certain invasion…
Funny how having your city sacked for a prolonged period will enlighten you to certain deficiencies in how things are run.
The name Yuta isn't one I particularly take from any notable source. I think of Yuta's personality as pretty typical of the "lackadaisical yet effective" authority figures you see in a lot of stories. Think like Shikamaru or Shouta Aizawa, maybe Yami from Black Clover for a spicier example.
Next time: the dragon girl sees the surface and the aftermath of the minotaur incident.
