Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon?, Vol. 4 (12 page)

While that is a strange way to say it, simply put, Lilly was guiding us.

It might be better to say she was steering us in the right direction. She could see the whole battlefield from her vantage point, so she knew exactly when and how to assist us. That included keeping us apart.

I hear Mr. Welf say, “She knows how adventurers move.”

I slowly nod as his words click and say, “Ah, that makes sense.” Considering all of Lilly’s experience as a supporter and as a thief, I bet she knows the way adventurers think like the back of her hand.

“She really is something else, Li’l E.”

“It’s times like these when you really can’t think of anything bad to say about supporters…”

“You can say that again,” replies Mr. Welf as he looks over his shoulder at Lilly. She’s in a deeper corner of the room, collecting magic stones and drop items with amazing speed and efficiency.

The two of us had slain a lot of monsters, so naturally there was a lot of work to be done. We offered to help, but she turned us away immediately. “This is Lilly’s job, rest while there’s time,” she had said as she pushed us away from the monsters’ remains.

She said she wanted to do her share.

“Well, whadda you know, we’ve got even more company. Should we head somewhere else?”

“Hmm, we could do that…”

There are a few groups of adventurers in the room now who weren’t here when we arrived.

Many adventurers pass through here, since this room connects to the floor above. Quite a few battle parties use this room as a staging area because there’s no fog. Needless to say, it’s difficult to find any monsters to slay in this spot.

It would be miserable to have to compete with them for loot, and even worse to have something happen that causes problems between
Familias
. Actually, there were a few parties that edged around the room while we were in combat. It’s an unwritten rule among adventurers: We stay out of one another’s way as much as possible while in the Dungeon.

…Now that I think about it, Lilly was the first one to realize that other adventurers were here. She immediately gathered the bodies of slain monsters in one spot to protect our loot. Kind of like, “These are ours, don’t get any ideas.”

I don’t know if she’s just got an eye for details, but that’s something that only an experienced supporter can do for their party.

“…Since we’re already here, why don’t we eat lunch? There are a lot of people in here, so we shouldn’t need to worry about monsters sneaking up on us.”

“Good point. Plus, it’d be a real pain to give up this spot. Let’s take advantage of the situation. Lunch sounds good.”

His reasoning sounds a bit pushy, but at least he agrees with me.

We’ll start eating as soon as Lilly gets back.

All these people…I know it’s the lower eleventh, but each party looks insanely powerful…

Even the air around each group exudes strength and experience.

The same goes for their armor and weapons. Sharp, sturdy…The list of words that comes to my mind just looking at them goes on and on.

An animal person with a robust bow strapped to his back, an Amazon leaning on a particularly large battle ax, a majestic elf wearing a silver white cloak and carrying a staff…They’re a mix of races of humans and demi-humans, with a few interesting quirks.

How many of them have leveled up…?

By and large, the parties that crawl the eleventh and twelfth floors are preparing to venture forth into the middle levels. So there have to be quite a few Level 2 adventurers in here right now.

…Am I really on par with any of these people?

I’m Level 2, so we’re equal at least on paper…but looking at the huge muscles on that dwarf makes me want to make myself as small as possible. My goal is much, much higher, so it’s not a good sign that I’m getting intimidated so easily.

I’m sure all of them have some impressive Magic and Skills…

Wait a minute, I have a Skill, too…

Can’t believe it took me this long to remember that I learned one, too.

“Heroic Desire, Argonaut.” I completely forgot about it up until now, so I wasn’t exactly trying to test it out…

I fought like normal, nothing strange happened…did it?

I’m faster and stronger than before, but that’s because I leveled up. I don’t think a Skill will have any effect on that.

“Active Action. Choose to move. Attack, not counterattack.”

I tilt my head to the side as I remember the goddess’s words. “Hmmm…”

I have no idea what she was talking about. Choosing to move, attacking and all that…That’s normal to me. And yet nothing unusual has happened. Maybe it takes more than movement to trigger it?

Magic needs spells to activate, so maybe this Skill does, too?

How did I…

…
Learn a skill called Argonaut in the first place?

Because I leveled up?

Because I slew that monster, the Minotaur?

Because I wished from the bottom of my heart that Aiz wouldn’t see me in another embarrassing situation?

…At that moment, I…

I want to be—

“—a hero!”

That’s what I wished for.

“…”

Just like the heroes in fairy tales.

Just like the men who could face down powerful enemies without fear.

Just like the women who risk everything to save lives.

To become that, to be one step closer, that was my desire.

Heroic desire.

“…Hey, Bell. What’s that?”

“!”

A voice drags me out of the depths of my memories and back into the present in the blink of an eye.

Welf is standing in front of me, eyebrows cocked in confusion.

I’m about to ask him what’s wrong, but I follow his gaze to my right arm first.

Small specs of light are shimmering around my arm.

“…Eh?”

My eyes go wide as a dumbfounded sound rolls off my tongue.

The small lights are spinning around my forearm, their white light softly pulsing.

The lights are smaller than a snowflake, about the size of a grain of sand. They disappear as they rotate toward my arm, only for new ones to appear in their place in an endless cycle.

Sparkle, converge, dim, and repeat.

It’s as if my arm is stuck in a whirlpool of sparkling white light.

Ping, ping.
The lights are making sounds as they glisten.

All like little chimes.

“…”

“…”

Mr. Welf and I look at each other.

He looks just as surprised and confused as I am. I don’t think I could give him any answers even if he asked me.

What…what is this…?

My eyes are focused so hard on my right hand, and I’m surprised it hasn’t fallen off yet.

I can see Mr. Welf’s gaze going from my face to my arm over and over again. Just as he’s opening his mouth to speak—it happens.

“—oooOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

A ferocious roar stampedes through the room, making my ears scream in pain.

“?!”

Mr. Welf and I flip around to look in that direction. No, not just us. Every other person in the room is looking that way, their eyes wide with terror.

It’s in the room’s entrance. Amber-colored scales emerge from the fog flowing in from the next room.

Not only scales, there is a long tail, sharp claws, and a ton of fangs as well.

It’s only about 150 celch at its tallest, but it looks like it’s more than 4 meders long—a small dragon.

“An infant dragon…?!”

The voice of an adventurer I’ve never met rings out.

This four-legged beast is a species of dragon, said to be the most powerful type of all the monsters in the Dungeon. While it doesn’t have wings, its muscular body is covered in thick amber scales. I can tell just by looking at this thing that it has the potential to overpower an orc. Its head twists from side to side as it scans the room with red eyes the size of dinner plates.

Infant dragon.

It’s a rare monster that only appears on the lower eleventh and twelfth floors of the Dungeon.

Considering that only four or five of these things roam the Dungeon at a time, it takes a considerable amount of luck to encounter one of them. Then again, infant dragons have annihilated entire parties of Level 1 adventurers. So they weren’t all that lucky…

There is no “Monster Rex” on these floors, so it’s safe to say that infant dragons are the bosses of the upper levels.

“—!!”

The dragon springs into action the instant the man screams, as though the cry is an opening bell. Flinging its long tail around like a whip, it hits an elf who happened to be close by and sends him flying. He slams into a wall in a heartbeat, eyes wide. He falls to the floor like a puppet whose strings have been cut, head limp. A chorus of new screams erupts throughout the room a second later.

It may not be as strong as that Minotaur, but I wouldn’t be
surprised if this beast is also categorized as Level 2. Now is the time to ignore the adventurers’ unwritten law, and everyone else realizes it. All battle parties act as one. Numerous spell incantations start as Amazons and dwarves charge forward with swords and axes drawn.

“Li’l E! GET OUT OF THERE!!”

Mr. Welf’s scream cuts through the chaos.

Even in my state of stunned silence, I can see everything unfold in front of me.

The dragon is charging toward Lilly, who is still in the corner of the room collecting magic stones.

I see her stand and turn to face the monster. Suddenly, my body starts moving on its own.

My still-sparkling right arm thrusts forward as the muscles in my throat tighten to yell:

“FIREBOLT!!”

Half a moment later.

Everything goes silent.

“—”

A beam of pure white light.

The entire room is bathed in a flash as a sound rivaling the dragon’s roar rings in my ears.

Flaming bolts of lightning explode from within the white light surrounding my right arm. Firebolt.

But it’s completely different. The usual scarlet bolts of my Magic are surrounded by white shards of light and are so thick that they could swallow a person whole. The flames are headed toward the infant dragon.

Engulfing the beast in plasma, the Firebolt continues past the dragon and smashes into the wall beyond.

A massive explosion.

“…GAH, ahh…”

Those amber scales that looked so sturdy a moment ago flake off like ash in the wind.

The infant dragon leaves behind a soft moan of pain before collapsing to the ground, a victim of the electric inferno. I’ve heard that
dragons have a natural resistance to flame, but its exposed skin is burning away amid the smoldering remains of everything around it.

All that’s left in the corner of the room now is the burned remains of the dragon dissolving into the air. The wall that took the blast is heavily damaged. Covered in cracks, more and more pieces fall to the ground every moment.

CRICK CRASH!
A large segment collapses to the floor like an afterthought.

“…”

An uneasy stillness descends on the room.

All of the other adventurers have stopped moving and are looking at me. Lilly and Mr. Welf, too.

Shock, shudders, and…hostility. I don’t react to any of the emotions being slung at me. Coming back to myself, I pull my right arm down and toward my chest. The glimmering specks of light are gone, and my arm looks like nothing ever happened.

“……oww.”

I push my head through the opening in my shirt. Every part of my body aches, and every movement is painful.

Now fully dressed, I open the door and leave the shower room.

The goddess, already changed, is sitting on the purple sofa.

“Bell, if you’re tired, go ahead and get some rest. I can make dinner on my own.”

“No, I’m fine. I’ll help!”

“Heh-heh, is that so? All right, we’ll make it together.”

It’s been a long day at work and a very long day of dungeon crawling. Both of us were late getting home that night, so I don’t want her to do everything by herself. It’s already late evening.

We do most things around our home together as much as possible; I know that’s what the goddess wants. I shouldn’t let her do so much, but every time I try to do something on my own, she always says something like, “Aren’t we in this together, Bell?”

But in the end, it really does feel strange…

“…Um, Bell? Can I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

I’ve just started washing vegetables in our small excuse for a kitchen when the goddess, who was cutting meat, suddenly asks me a question.

I turn to face her, our eyes level because she’s standing on a small stool.

“Have you ever met Freya…Ah, a silver-haired goddess?”

“A goddess with silver hair? No, I don’t think I have…”

I think hard as I answer.

I can count the number of times I’ve seen goddesses other than Lady Hestia since I came to Orario on one hand. I should be able to remember if any of them had silver hair.

“Hmm, yes, I suppose that’s right…”

The goddess mumbles as she looks toward the ceiling. Did something happen?

I feel like the goddess has had her head on a swivel ever since the Denatus ended. I’ve asked her about it a few times, but all she does is shake her head and say, “Nope, it’s nothing at all.”