Dungeon — Floor 1
The air changed the moment the gate sealed behind him.
Cooler. Wetter. The scent of moss, blood, and stone filled his lungs. The silence here wasn't empty, it pulsed. Like something was breathing just beyond the walls.
He moved with quiet steps, bare of the usual adventurer's gear. No sword. No shield. No armor clanking with every breath.
Toji didn't need it.
What he did have were his eyes. Sharp, scanning the walls, the ceiling, the flow of the floor like he'd been walking Dungeons for years. Cracks told stories. Wind hinted at movement. He didn't rush.
He didn't need to.
Then, a shift.
Ahead, something stirred.
A Kobold. Humanoid, dog-faced, hunched with claws out and yellow eyes burning in the dark. It snarled, spotting him, foam bubbling from its mouth.
It charged.
Toji didn't flinch.
The Kobold leapt, jaws wide
Crack.
Toji caught it mid-air by the throat. A wet gurgle followed, then a low snap as his fingers crushed its windpipe like twigs. It writhed, kicked, then stilled.
He dropped it without ceremony.
Its body hit the floor with a thud, followed by a faint glow as a magic stone pulsed faintly inside its chest.
Toji stared at it, curious.
He hadn't even broken a sweat.
Another growl. Two more Kobolds emerged from the shadows, emboldened by numbers.
Still not enough.
The first lunged at his side, Toji sidestepped and slammed a knee into its snout, breaking it inward with a sickening crunch. It hit the wall, limp.
The second tried to flank.
Toji turned. Grabbed it by the arm. Dislocated the shoulder, then used the limb to swing the creature into the Dungeon wall with bone-shattering force.
Three enemies. Three kills. Less than ten seconds.
He stood still for a moment, breathing slow. Listening.
More sounds echoed deeper down. Bigger ones. Faster steps.
Monsters smelled strength. They felt it. And Toji had walked into their world like a challenge.
He looked down at his hand.
Still clean.
Still bored.
He muttered, mostly to himself, "This... all?"
As if on cue, the walls groaned, and something wrong skittered into view.
It wasn't a Floor 1 monster. Not by normal Dungeon standards.
A mutated goblin. Wrong size. Arms too long. Eyes too many. A Dungeon irregular.
Other adventurers would've run.
Toji smiled, just a little.
Now this was worth his time.
The irregular goblin hissed.
Its movements were jerky, almost insect-like. It dropped from the wall and landed on all fours, claws raking the stone floor.
Muscles twitched under blotchy skin. Its mouth split wider than it should have, rows of mismatched teeth clacking together in anticipation.
Toji didn't move.
He didn't need to.
The thing screeched, and then it was on him.
Too fast for most Level 1s.
It came in low, claws flashing toward his gut. Toji shifted half a step back, the swipe missing by inches. He didn't dodge like an adventurer, he didn't backpedal or retreat.
He read.
The goblin twisted mid-lunge, swinging a second arm down like a hammer.
Toji caught it, barehanded.
The impact cracked the stone beneath his feet. The goblin shrieked in surprise, but Toji's face didn't change.
Not even a grunt. He yanked downward, pulling the goblin off balance, then drove his elbow into its extended knee.
Pop.
The joint bent backward. The goblin howled.
Toji didn't let it fall.
He lifted it by the broken limb, swung it around like dead weight, and slammed it spine-first into the Dungeon wall, hard enough to crack both stone and bone.
Still alive.
Barely.
It thrashed, spitting blood and bile, trying to dig its remaining claws into him. One caught flesh—a shallow gash across his side.
Toji didn't even flinch.
He stepped in close, wrapped a hand around its neck, and squeezed.
"You're loud," he muttered.
The goblin's many eyes bulged, then burst. The sounds it made stopped.
He dropped the twitching body and exhaled through his nose.
Silence.
For a moment, there was only the steady drip of goblin blood hitting the floor. Then, a glow.
Not from the body.
From him.
A pulse ran through his chest, like a heartbeat, but deeper. Older.
The Falna Hecate had given him burned for the first time. He felt it, not pain, exactly. More like the Dungeon was... acknowledging him.
And not like a new adventurer.
Like something it didn't understand.
Toji stood over the misshapen goblin's corpse, breathing steady. The Falna's flicker in his chest faded. It hadn't leveled him. Not yet.
He didn't care.
The Dungeon wasn't done. Neither was he.
Ahead, the passage sloped downward.
The barrier between Floor 2 and 3 was thin. Most new adventurers would return to the surface, get patched up, report their kills, and train with a team before daring to push deeper.
Toji walked forward instead.
No fear. No hesitation.
Each floor was colder. Darker. The air felt heavier. Monsters here weren't just faster, they were smarter. You couldn't kill them with panic swings or wild spells.
Perfect.
Somewhere deeper — Floor 4
He heard it before he saw it.
Thunderous steps.
Scraping horns.
And...
Screaming.
Toji's head tilted.
Someone was running. Fast. Tripping over his own feet. The scent of fear hit his nose before the figure came into view.
A white-haired kid in light armor. Barely more than a teenager. Sword trembling in his hand. Eyes wide with terror.
Behind him, a Minotaur.
Wrong floor. Wrong time.
A mistake? Or Dungeon cruelty?
Toji didn't know. Didn't care.
He stepped into the corridor, calm as still water.
The boy spotted him too late. Barely managed to skid to a stop before colliding.
"Move," Toji said.
Bell froze, breath hitching. "W-What—?! That thing's—!"
Too late.
The Minotaur came charging around the bend, eyes red, muscles rippling, steam snorting from its nostrils.
Bell flinched.
Toji didn't move.
The Minotaur roared, raised its axe, and swung.
He vanished.
No sound. No magic. Just gone.
And then—CRACK.
Toji reappeared under the Minotaur's arm, one hand gripping its wrist, the other slamming up into its ribcage like a spear. There was a sickening crunch as bones shattered.
The Minotaur howled in pain.
Toji stepped to the side, fluid and brutal, dragging the creature down with the force of its own missed swing.
Bell watched in awe and horror as the monster that had nearly killed him was disassembled in seconds.
Toji ducked another blow, spun around the beast's back, and tore out its hamstring with one brutal kick.
The Minotaur fell to one knee.
Toji didn't give it time to recover. He leapt onto its back and grabbed one of the horns.
Snap.
The horn broke off like chalk.
Bell gasped.
Toji drove the jagged tip straight through the Minotaur's neck.
Silence.
Then, collapse.
The monster hit the ground. Dead.
Toji stood atop the corpse, breathing slow. Calm.
Bell stared at him like he'd just witnessed a god in human skin.
Toji finally looked at him.
"...You should've run faster."
...
Bell was still frozen.
The Minotaur's corpse lay at his feet, blood steaming on the stone floor. That terrifying black-haired man stood over it, calm as a statue, horn still clutched in one hand like a broken trophy.
It was quiet now.
Bell's heartbeat was not.
Toji finally stepped down from the body, walking past Bell without a second glance.
Not even a word.
Just that heavy, crushing presence. Like something barely pretending to be human.
Bell swallowed hard. "T-Thank you—"
Toji didn't stop.
Didn't slow down.
Didn't even acknowledge the thanks.
Then, light footsteps.
Graceful. Precise. Fast.
Bell turned his head, and his breath caught for the second time that day.
Aiz Wallenstein.
The Sword Princess. His idol. The reason he came to Orario in the first place.
She moved like lightning, golden eyes scanning the carnage. Her blade was half-drawn, until she saw the body. Saw Bell. Saw...
Him.
Toji had stopped at the far end of the corridor. Just long enough to register her presence. His eyes met hers, briefly.
And for a split second
Aiz froze.
She couldn't explain it. Couldn't read him. The man gave off no magical presence. No bloodlust. No Falna signature she could detect.
But every instinct she had, the ones honed from years of Dungeon fighting, screamed.
Danger.
She took a slow step forward. "Did you... kill this Minotaur?"
Toji said nothing.
He just looked at her. Head tilted. Like he was weighing her. Measuring.
Then: "Too slow."
Aiz blinked.
Before she could speak again, Toji turned and walked into the shadows.
Gone.
No sound. No footsteps. Just... vanished.
Bell was still staring, slack-jawed.
Aiz turned to him. Her expression softened. "Are you hurt?"
He jolted back into reality. "N-No, I'm okay... I mean, he saved me. That guy."
She nodded slowly.
But her eyes were still locked on the path Toji had taken. The blood. The speed. The sheer physicality of it.
No magic. No weapon. No team.
"Who was that?" Bell asked.
Aiz didn't answer.
Because she didn't know.
But something about the way he moved, the complete, surgical control, unsettled her more than anything she'd faced in months.
Elsewhere, above
In the twilight lofts of Orario, Hecate stood by a window, wine swirling in her glass.
She smirked.
Aiz Wallenstein. Loki's golden girl. She'd seen her strength firsthand.
And now she had seen him.
...
Twilight Manor — Loki Familia HQ
Aiz pushed open the door with her usual quiet step.
The hall was filled with voices, training talk, mission chatter, betting arguments between Bete and the twins. It was home. It was noise.
It felt off now.
She walked through it like a ghost. Still thinking about that man.
Not the Minotaur. Not Bell. Him.
She found Finn, Riveria, and Gareth in the planning room upstairs, huddled over maps and reports. Standard stuff.
"Back early," Finn noted, looking up. "Something happen?"
Aiz nodded. "I found a Minotaur."
"Floor Four?" Riveria frowned. "That's too early. Any injuries?"
A pause.
"Bell Cranel. He ran into it. But... he's fine. Someone else intervened."
That made all three of them pause.
"Who?" Gareth asked, voice low.
"I don't know."
That got their full attention.
Finn straightened. "Describe him."
Aiz looked down slightly. "Tall. Black hair. Black clothes. No armor. No weapons. He killed the Minotaur by hand."
"Wait, by hand?" Gareth leaned forward.
Aiz nodded.
Riveria's brows drew together. "Was he part of a team?"
"No. Alone."
"....Falna signature?"
She hesitated. "None I could feel."
Now that got silence.
Even Finn's easy smile faltered for a moment. "You're telling me someone with no weapon, no Familia, no blessing... took down a Minotaur? On Floor Four?"
"It looked easy for him."
Another beat of silence.
Bete walked in just in time to hear the last bit. "What're we whispering about now?"
"Some no-name snapped a Minotaur in half," Gareth grunted. "Barehanded."
Bete snorted. "Bullshit."
Aiz didn't respond. Just kept her eyes on the table.
Finn leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. "We need more information. Riveria, can you reach out to the Guild? See if anyone's heard of him. Any rogue adventurers registering recently."
Riveria nodded.
"And Aiz," Finn continued, "I want you to be careful. If he's as strong as you say..."
"He's stronger than most of us," she said quietly.
That made Bete actually stop mid-eye-roll.
"What?" he growled.
"I've fought Minotaurs," Aiz added. "So has he. But he made it look like breathing."
Later That Night — Loki's Quarters
Loki lounged across her couch, flipping through a bottle of wine and listening to Riveria's report.
"No Guild record?" she said, bored at first, then paused. "Wait, none?"
"Nothing matching the description. No recent blessing. No adventurer matching Aiz's notes."
Loki blinked.
And then she grinned.
Wide. Wolfish.