Benefactor (1)
Even with an immature body, as long as his mind was sound, there was nothing he couldn't do.
In short, after half a day of rummaging through street taverns and the adventurer's guild, he'd gathered some useful intel.
Luin learned that the Hero Party had newly recruited a member through royal connections—and that they'd launched a dungeon expedition under the guise of an entry test.
The labyrinth they'd ventured into was the Grevi an Subsidence Zone, located in the southwest.
Setting aside doubts about whether they'd really bring an untested newbie into a place like that, Luin focused elsewhere.
"How should I stir the pot?"
Hitching a ride on a carriage to near the labyrinth was easy enough.
The problem was the soldiers stationed at the dungeon entrance, controlling access. Without an official license, no adventurer could pass.
Just walking up would get me turned away at the gate.
Luin rested his chin in his hand, lost in thought for a moment.
Then, after brief deliberation, a clever idea struck him.
A labyrinth was still just a structure of dirt and stone, after all.
"Doggy door."
If he found a passage he could crawl through, he had a way in.
Honestly, it was too crude to call a plan, but just two hours after the thought occurred, Luin spotted a decent hole.
Even with the path right in front of him, though, he hesitated for a long while.
This wasn't some crack in a cliffside—it led straight into a dungeon teeming with monsters.
It was a gamble even someone numb to danger might balk at.
Luin chugged from his carbonated water canteen to steady his nerves.
Then, a familiar, annoying presence made his skin crawl, and he whipped his head around.
"Damn it, she's back again."
His brows furrowed as the elf he'd shaken off on the way here crept up again.
In the end, Luin decided to use this as motivation to commit.
"...Gotta go in, what choice do I have."
Muttering to himself, he turned sideways and shoved his shoulder into the hole.
Soon, the sound of him slithering into the tunnel faded, leaving only silence.
Luin's hometown, Rakselv Village, wasn't exactly prime real estate for settlers from the start.
Winters on the northern continent dragged on forever, summers were fleeting, sunlight was stingy, and fierce cold winds routinely swept across the plains to batter the village.
The ground stayed perpetually frozen, so even in spring, the soil thawed sluggishly.
Naturally, shoveling deep meant pounding away repeatedly at the iron-hard earth.
In other words, it was a treacherous zone riddled with spots where one misstep could send you sliding into a ravine.
Locals learned to keep their balance on icy ground first, then how to climb snow-covered slopes second.
And Luin was no exception.
Reading tracks buried in snow, distinguishing hollow pits under frozen soil, dispersing weight on cracked ice—all basics for survival.
So when Luin emerged from the doggy door, his eyes instinctively scanned the surroundings.
The grain of the rock.
The flow of moisture.
The direction of the cold air leaking from the tunnel.
"Pretty deep."
Muttering briefly, Luin lowered his center of gravity, using his elbows to brake against the friction as he descended.
He groped the side floor to check the wall, then flicked a small pebble he'd picked from the crevice outward.
Thud. Thud. Thuuud.
The sounds of it rolling outside echoed briefly, followed by one more drop.
Stepped ledges, probably.
"This should be fine."
Luin twisted sideways and slid in, curling naturally at the drop point to absorb the impact.
Thump.
A dull sound, but his posture held steady.
Such falls were playground stuff compared to the northern continent's icy slopes.
More troubling was the dungeon interior, shrouded in thick darkness.
Luin shook out his shoulders once and stepped deeper in.
"Can't see shit in here..."
No torches lit the passage; dead black silence reigned.
But Luin's steps didn't falter.
When sight failed, open your ears; when ears failed, read the air flow.
He probed the ground's slope with his toes, the wall's texture with his fingers.
Where moisture trickled, where wind seeped.
Above all, he was drawn by the monster's aura, blatantly radiating killing intent since earlier.
Normally, smart beasts hid their presence before hunting.
But this one broadcasted like a wild stray that hadn't survived the dungeon's food chain—easy to pinpoint.
And as a fishy stench grew closer, a bad feeling crept in.
A smell he recognized from somewhere... Luin groaned unwittingly.
"Ngh."
Finally reaching the source of the intent, he gauged the stench's origin.
"Can't see great, but..."
Its form blurred in the dark, but the robes wrapping its body screamed high-class.
Intricate silver embroidery adorned the pure white fabric, glowing faintly on its own.
A robe layered with holy symbols.
The official seal of a church order, proof of a kingdom-sanctioned cleric.
Ornate silver fittings on chest and shoulders bore protective and purifying runes.
No individual could afford gear like that.
It required the kingdom's coffers and church backing.
Her identity was clear.
The real deal saintess.
The title of Saintess wasn't handed out lightly.
Leagues above temple healers, it was kingdom-certified and recognized across continental churches.
Few could wield holy power to such realms anyway.
And among them, a Saintess battle-ready enough for the front lines? Incredibly rare.
Even major kingdoms might produce one per generation, if lucky.
Dragging that kind of asset around personally?
Absurd.
Kingdoms treated saintesses as strategic assets—guarded, escorted, supported lavishly.
Only one group could deploy someone that valuable to the front.
Definitely the Hero Party.
The puzzle pieces clicked in Luin's mind.
Hero with the holy sword.
Kingdom's full backing.
Legitimized continental expedition force.
No other party could claim a saintess.
"Tch."
Jackpot meant getting to work.
Calculations done, Luin drew his sword and faced the monster head-on.
Shing.
At first glance he'd missed it, but he had to crane his neck fully to catch its face.
Stooped on all fours, its shoulders still stacked two adults high.
Long arms thudded heavily against the rock floor; spines along its back swelled like small hills.
As expected, each claw rivaled a dagger's length.
One swipe would shred a human torso clean off.
The beast dangled the saintess like a toy, toying with her.
Luin instinctively stepped back—then stopped.
What, like I have a better option?
No contest against the goblins from before.
Wait.
Hero Party dungeon for newbie tests, right?
Maybe just flashy on the outside?
But as if reading his doubts, the beast's pupils narrowed subtly.
Flash.
Then its lips curled slowly, baring yellow fangs.
Finding someone in this remote dungeon corner was a relief—but it flipped to despair instantly.
A full party with front- and backline might matter, but a lone adventurer? Useless.
So Saintess Veronica screamed her throat raw.
"Run! Don't look back—now!"
At the end of her gaze stood a single boy gripping a longsword.
Blue mana rippled coldly along his blade.
Impressive not to lose heart against an ammo black monkey, but no hope of turning the tide.
Yet the boy was unnervingly calm.
As if he'd accounted for everything.
Suddenly, a recent memory flashed through Veronica's mind.
Chris was like that too...
She'd always overprepared meticulously.
Looking back, for the Grevi an Subsidence Zone, her items targeted oddly specific variables.
Odd at the time, but...
Could she have foreseen and planned for this?
Veronica's lips paled.
What difference does realizing it now make?
Resigned self-reproach mingled with acceptance of her looming death.
The boy was next, then her.
Veronica squeezed her eyes shut.
She'd witnessed countless deaths as a saintess, but never dreamed hers would end like this.
Praying for a swift, painless close, she strained her ears...
Kwaaang—
An air-splitting whoosh followed.
Then clanging metal.
...Metal?
Veronica's eyes snapped open.
The ammo black monkey's massive claw rebounded into empty air.
A bluish Mana Blade had parried its path perfectly.
A dazed sound escaped her.
"...Huh?"
"...Keeik?"
The monkey seemed momentarily stunned too.
The boy hadn't budged an inch, twisting his sword with a straight face.