Chapter 3: Lost Siblings – Part 2
Things had started simple enough once the two of them had caught their breath. They needed to make their way back to the campsite since it was too dangerous to linger about. Despite the 18th Floor not inherently spawning monsters, some did wander in from above and below. Monsters of that caliber were something she could deal with, but not a fresh Level Two like her brother.
For all Lefiya knew another Minotaur would show up and, after two encounters with them that should have been fatal, she didn’t want to risk the third time being when his luck ran out.
There was always the option of using her Magic to send up a signal. But she considered that the last resort. Leaving aside how shameful it would have been to go calling for help after she had chased him this far out, Bell had already caused enough problems. No sense in making things worse there.
The basics of survival in the Dungeon had been drilled into her by the Loki Familia since she had joined, to compensate for what wasn’t taught in the Educational District. Not every scholar there went on to join an Exploration Familia. The Dungeon was dangerous after all and there was no point in spending years learning for a single mistake to claim your life.
Lefiya took the lead with his Magic Stone Lantern to illuminate the path. The smaller crystals could be broken into pieces even with her mediocre strength. After all, as a Level Three she could easily punch cracks in the very floor of the Dungeon should she wish. She had him scatter them behind to leave a trail, so they didn’t walk in circles.
Bell himself supplemented that by marking certain trees as they passed with his odd knife that had the writing of the gods upon it, though such markings were only temporary given the trees could mend themselves rather quickly—but if they were still lost by then, she would accept they couldn’t get back and send up a signal flare. Still, it seemed he knew his way around mountainous terrain pretty well for a farm boy.
“I used to play on them when I was younger,” he told her, when she made the mistake of bringing that up. It gave him leeway to tell her more about his childhood and he naturally seemed eager to, despite the situation. She considered telling him to shelve it for now, but…
Well, he didn’t even know much about their father or her. And she didn’t know much about him, all things considered. She still didn’t even know why had come here besides chasing after her or even about the Familia he ran off to join.
Then he told her and she felt her anger rising again. “Oh my Goddess… you joined up with the first Familia that offered you a spot? Without knowing anything about them?”
After being turned away by her, it seemed her brother had gone from one Familia to another only to be rejected by them all until one goddess picked him up off the street like an abandoned kitten. She then took him to a bookstore of all places to place her grace upon his back and claim him as her own. Then they moved into an abandoned Church and lived in the same bedroom!
He scratched the back of his head when he saw the look she was giving him. “Well, Lady Hestia is kind and she was willing to accept someone like me. And I don’t mind our living circumstances, so I’m quite happy.”
She found it in her to start grinding her teeth when she considered the small goddess. It was clear she actually did care considering she risked entering the Dungeon for him once he had gone missing. But it could have gone so much worse considering how he was a know-nothing country mouse with such a babyface that someone could have taken advantage of him—in a lot of ways she didn’t want to think about considering their blood-tie.
“What about you, Sister?” Bell asked.
“I said not to call me that,” she reminded him before huffing. “And I spent some time scouting which Familia I wanted to join after my graduation. It just so happens that my first choice accepted my qualifications.”
She had left home and entered the Education District at the age of eight. Her mother had felt that she should be in the city where her father had lived. Perhaps it was so that she could escape the not-so-hushed whispers of the neighbors and the other children of her sullied blood.
Orario was a melting pot. People of all different races and careers gathered, so maybe she thought that it would allow her to escape those prejudices. The whispers still followed her—not every Elf was like that, but there were enough of them that she still heard the whispers.
Nevertheless, she studied hard to drown them out. To prove to herself that she was more than what they claimed. She had spent hours studying in the district and just as many in the Dungeon’s upper floors, where there were places where spellcasters could practice without the fear of damaging the city or having their chants overheard.
And once she had graduated, she had gone out of her way to scout and get a feel for the Loki Familia before she joined them. Her knowledge of the principles of magic was fairly solid and mages were something of a hot commodity, even if her original skill made it so that she was better suited to destructive spells by passively amplifying them. She had options, but… well, the Loki Familia had Lady Riveria.
Lady Riveria—a legend among Elves. For some, it was her royal birth. For others, it was her status as one of the strongest Adventurers in Orario. There were few far and between that didn’t revere her, even a Half-Elf like Lefiya.
And that was before she chose her to become her successor—regardless of her heritage.
“The Loki Familia has a lot of amazing people, huh?” Bell mused. “You managed to make it all the way to the 59th Floor. You’re just like the heroes of those stories that braved the unknown.”
“…Don’t let those stories mislead you,” she warned him. “The Dungeon is dangerous. Everything that you’ve experienced up until now can’t compare to what lays below this floor. You should quit being an Adventurer and find some other work to support yourself and your Goddess.”
Bell looked rather somber as he said, “But if I do that, I won’t be able to catch up to any of you. Even now, I’m still so far behind you all that I’m worried I’ll never be able to keep up.”
“…You’re such an idiot,” she muttered as the weight of those words lingered on her mind. It was stupid. Even though she told him he didn’t need to, he was still going to try chasing after them. All the way to an early grave at the rate he was going.
The two stayed silent after that as they continued until they found a tree that towered above all else. It was suitable to serve as a landmark, so she climbed to the top of it and was able to figure out a path back to the camp. But then she managed to spy something that made her blood run cold—members of Evilus.
Her obligation to her Familia demanded she follow them. It was an opportunity to get information that they lacked to prevent things like what happened before from happening again. They had already attacked this floor once before, so anything to prevent them from doing it again was the right course of action.
But there was the matter of her brother. Even if she wanted to return to their camp and gave directions, she couldn’t guarantee that Bell would make it back there on his own. The monsters they had crossed paths with and hid from until now to conserve their strength could still tear him apart considering he only had his Salamander Wool clothes and a knife. Or worse, he could run into Evilus along the way, and they would…
Her stomach twisted at the thought.
No, I have to protect him. That thought cemented in her mind. If we follow at a distance to discover their meeting place, we can then sneak back to camp and inform the Captain and the others. Two birds, one stone.
And so, they followed until they were close to the Crystal Grove and deeper into the forest. They only came to a stop when they were closer to the wall of the Dungeon. The entire time Lefiya was nervous as they followed along the way, her brother cluelessly but wordlessly following her despite the barest of explanations due to the fact that she said it was necessary.
Then the most terrifying moment in her life occurred.
The ground beneath her parted. The sensation of weightlessness and helplessness assailed her. The world around her returned to the Dragon’s Crucible on the 52nd Floor—the gateway of Hell.
Within that chamber where the heat sweltered from below as it rushed to escape the vents that were blasted in the floor, she fell. Without warning or prompt, from six floors below and on the border of the unexplored region, Valgang Dragons spread their leathery pinions to take flight. Ascending from the base of the crucible where the very earth jutted up like the fangs of an open maw waiting to snap close and from its vents belched acrid smoke and embers, they eyed her with flames slipping from their bared maws and ready to incinerate her.
It had been then that she had taken her first steps to catch up to the others. To stop being protected and instead to walk alongside them. She had managed to conquer her fear for those scant few moments, in order to rouse her magic to fend off her attackers then.
Yet that fear before was nothing compared to now…
Because this time her brother was falling into Hell with her.
Hearing his surprised scream had been like flipping a switch inside of her head. She reached out, caught his wrist, and pulled him into her before they could be split apart by the fall. The only thing that stopped her from rousing what strength she could to toss him back up was the fact that the opening closed up on its own.
Her gaze instantly shifted downwards and saw that there was a pool of something they were rushing towards. She couldn’t cushion the fall, but she could angle it so that they didn’t land flat in it. It was thanks to that both landed on their feet as the liquid splashed up around them.
The liquid was a sickly purple color that rose up to their waist. The vapors rising from it had a poignant and acrid smell that irritated the nostrils as they breathed it in. The foul fumes were nauseating enough on their own that they might have been poison.
Then it started to burn.
The liquid sizzled where their bodies touched it, bubbling and frothing as the caustic fluid began to nip away at their flesh with ravenous glee. The lantern that had fallen with them was already being corroded by the fluid, the stone inside of it already dimming. Her thoughts turned to acid as she found half-dissolved bone and corroded metal belonging to other Adventurers around them, and then she looked around to see the fleshy texture that made up the wall.
Then realized dawned that it was not a hole they fell into.
It had been a maw of a monster.
They were in its stomach.
She had killed them.
Her eyes shot up at her brother’s words and she spotted what looked to be a humanoid torso that had bright, rich colors of red and yellowish-green that were often found in monsters and animals that indicated they were poisonous. The creature had a single eye that peered around from the long stalk that served as its neck, crowned by thin bristles, with two elongated tendrils that shifted in erratic motions as though alive.
It was a monster that reminded her of the Corrupted Spirit on the 59th Floor. It didn’t exude the sheer menace that one did, but it had similar enough traits to the same monsters that had been eating others to feed it the magic stones. It had to have been planted there as a security measure to eliminate witnesses or guard whatever they had near here.
And then its cyclopean eye finished skimming its surroundings before settling on them.
Time seemed to dilate as the senses of a Level Three Adventurer kicked into overdrive in the face of danger. And even that was barely enough for her to react to the incoming attack as instinct kicked in and her hand reached out to pull her brother away. She managed to leap back with him in her tow as far as her legs could carry her in a single bound as the pair of sinuous, massive whips came crashing down.
The entire chamber rumbled as the acid splashed up to nearly three-fourths the height of the chamber, scattering broken bones and abandoned armaments. She felt the acid splash against her hair and the sleeves of her combat clothes, the latter meant to serve as a moderate defense against the hazards of the Dungeon. She then turned to her brother behind her as he snapped up from having fallen backwards, only stopped from a full plunge by one of his hands that was now suffering from mild caustic burns.
He was lucky, considering he was only a fresh Level Two. If the acid had anywhere near the same potency as the ones on the lower floors, there wouldn’t have even been flesh left on the limb.
She tore the half-cloak of her outfit off and passed it to him. “Wrap it up!”
“Look out!” Bell shouted abruptly.
Lefiya whipped her head around to see that the whips were coming around once more. Her body moved, leaping away from the crash site as the wall of acid rose up in response. She quickly covered her face with her sleeve and felt the acid assail the durable fabric before lowering her arm to find her brother. “Bell!”
“I’m fine!” He was on the opposite side of the melting chamber, his legs moving with his injured arm wrapped up tight by the cloak and his other brandishing the onyx dagger that he had in a reverse grip. It seemed uncorroded despite the acid dripping from it. “What is this thing!?”
“Just focus on avoiding it for now!” The singular eye shifted between them before the whips began to stir once more and her grip on Forest’s Teardrop became iron clad. “I’ll come up with something!”
Then talk became a secondary concern to resolving the situation. The monster may have been an unknown, but she had seen similar kinds and had studied under the Loki Familia. They had to be prepared to deal with the unknown as they existed to explore the undelved depths of the Dungeon, so encountering new foes was expected and how to adapt to them.
She felt her thoughts racing as she tried to focus on those teachings. But she couldn’t help but have her thoughts drift back to her younger brother. He hadn’t trained for this—he wasn’t prepared to be an Adventurer. He was a farm boy who lived a simple, happy life in a safe place until a little over a month ago!
Even now he was darting around in a panic—a wild, white rabbit darting back and forth and only able to narrowly avoid the whips when they came towards him. If he wasn’t so fleet-of-foot then he probably wouldn’t have made it that long, but she didn’t know how long that would last before the acid ate away at his legs. The durability of a Level Two was nowhere near sufficient for this kind of environment.
Much less a boy who reached Level Two in less than a month.
It took her three years to reach Level Two. It was at eleven years old, after the examination where they had to put their Magic into practical use in the Dungeon. Students in the Education District who planned to pursue a career in Adventuring, or even to simply obtain access to Magic, received a Falna from one of the Gods who preside over the district. They acted as their instructors until they graduated before leaving the Falna open for them to transfer to a new Familia.
It took her two years after that to reach Level Three, just a year after joining Lady Loki’s Familia. Her growth would be considered rather good considering how far of a gap most others had to cross just to pass the threshold. She would probably reach Level Four soon enough, given how high-quality the excelia was from diving so deeply into the Dungeon and going against its threats.
But his growth was just absurd.
No other members of the Familia to support him. No education on what to expect. Just whatever he could scrounge together and pick up along the way. That carried a crippling weakness that killed new Adventurers often enough—the lack of experience on how to adapt to new situations.
Observation. Analyzation. Application. Those were beyond him as he was never taught. And that was because she hadn’t brought him with her. She hadn’t even asked her Goddess or told anyone about him, driving him away in the attempt to keep him out of her life.
Now she had dragged him into this as ill-prepared as possible.
She had as good as killed him herself.
Focus! She bit down on her lower lip as she forced her gaze back to it. There had to be some kind of tell, some kind of action that served as recognition to figure out what it was capable of before she went on the offense. What is it?
It was fortunate that she inherited the eyes of her mother’s race. Those eyes may not have been on par with a Pallum’s in such dim light, but they were perceptive enough that she could pick up the details. That was what allowed her to see how it always shifted its eye to its current target before it attacked.
“Watch its eye!” Lefiya called out. “It needs to look to fix our position before it sends the signals for its whips to land! There’s enough of a delay to get out of the way!”
“Got it!” Bell responded as he fixed his gaze into its own and found the inhuman gaze staring right back. It served as the trigger for him to move with purpose rather than floundering around and reacting. The next swing that came in like a crushing pendulum missed by more than enough space.
“Stay aware of its tendrils!” she continued, feeling a weight off her shoulders as her analysis was complete. As long as they could predict its movements, he could focus on dodging with those legs of his while she could go on the offense—his little knife wouldn’t cut it since he could get close to the eye to cut into it, and they didn’t know where the magic stone was to hit. “I’ll look for an opening and start casting a spell!”
Sensing the change in how its prey operated, their floundering and narrow misses becoming far more focused and evasive, it became far more aggressive in its assault. Rather than simply crashing down to crush them into the acid and hasten their deaths, it lashed out in erratic methods such as curving its appendage, so it swept horizontal and skirted the acid along with the armaments. With that, the two lethal weapons had effectively multiplied.
Bell was momentarily cornered with a fleshy wall to his left and the tendril came up around to smash through his legs, breaking them to leave him to drown. But he bounced up as he twisted one foot facing it and then threw his outside shoulder towards the tendril. The twist carried him over the tendril and leaving it to sweep into the fleshy wall behind him as he took off running anew.
…He really is nimble, Lefiya acknowledged even as she contended with the fact that she felt the acid eating away at her boots. Considering hers were of better quality than what he could afford, his feet must’ve been burning. If she didn’t do something soon, he would slow down and that would be the end.
But the question was… what could she do?
Her Concurrent Chanting required focus enough that her reaction and reflexes dropped as well. Enough that her Speed, which wasn’t her best attribute by far, would drop enough that she was effectively a sitting duck. And that was before the fact that others like this creature usually fixated on magical energy.
She needed a vanguard to be able to cast. But that required a level of coordination that had to be worked out in advance, something she and Bell lacked given they had only seen each other a scant few times. And even then the vanguard often…
She shuddered when she recalled the deaths back on the 24th Floor. The Hermes Familia had sacrificed everything to buy her enough time to cast. Even that massive Dwarven woman, Elilly, had used her very body once her shields had broken so she could finish her cast.
Bell was Level Two. He was her brother. She couldn’t do that to him.
Why couldn’t I have met you sooner, Filvis? If she met the graceful beauty years ago, she would have done everything in her power to walk that same path. They were the same Level, but she was someone who could manage both roles without needing someone to protect her.
Maybe then she would have learned spells that were more suited for that. Her spells were powerful, but their casting times were longer and the amount of magical energy that needed to be gathered made it extra difficult. Even if she borrowed Filvis’ super-short chant it would be extended due to how her Elf Ring worked.
And she couldn’t learn any new spells through her Falna because her slots were all taken up.
I can only do my best, she told herself as she remembered her training with Filvis. There was no need to accumulate the entirety of the magical energy from the beginning. She could start the chant and then rapidly gather it together in the latter half of her chant, leaving her mobile at the start and then planted in the end to fire.
However, before she could begin her chant the chaotic barrage of attacks… ceased entirely.
The two stopped moving as the crown around the monster’s eye grew luminous with a blue hue that indicated it was doing something new. Something had changed. Her mind raced when she considered what would come about—
—that was when a high-frequency soundwave resounded in the sealed chamber. It was a natural mechanism to deal with prey that had become too difficult to catch and it was expending too much energy to quell it. Using high-frequency soundwaves to assail the inner ear that helped keep one balanced, even the swiftest of animals would be forced to stall and reorientate themselves if they remained conscious.
Lefiya’s head felt like it was splitting open as she collapsed to her knees and clutched her pointed ears that had a rounded curve. They were the reason that anyone who had seen an Elf before could recognize her for who she was. That she was a half-breed.
…Half-Elf. Half-Man. Which half depended on whom it was that referenced her lineage.
The Humans would call her a Half-Elf, as if to elevate her heritage of being a member of the skillful, elite, graceful Elven race by how pointed her ears were despite the soft curve in them that was rigid in the pure linage. And in doing so it would be to the detriment of her other heritage. She was simply the product of a Human who managed to have a tryst with an Elf.
The Elves of her homeland called her Half-Man, as if to denounce that her blood was impure because of that. Humans were among the weakest of the races, after all. They had no special magic or attributes like an Elf’s longevity, a Dwarf’s strength, a Pallum’s eyesight, or a Beastfolk’s senses. The only thing that separated them from others was the fact that they could sire children with other races, with said offspring being barely above the Human but inferior to the other race.
Mother had called her a blessing of the gods.
She believed that what made Humans special was that they could cross the borders that divided the other races. They were the ones capable of tying an everlasting friendship between races. Lefiya and her ears were proof of that.
However, her brother was Human.
He lacked any inherent ability suitable for this life. Even now his Level was lower and he younger than her. So, if she was rattled by the assault, he was—
Her head snapped up towards the eye above as the screeching stopped. Expending whatever energy it kept partitioned away in reserve to unleash that attack, it would go back on the offense with its primary weapons. It would target whomever its gaze was fixed on.
And that gaze wasn’t on her.
She screamed at the top of her lungs even before her eyes naturally traced the gaze. “LOOK OUT!”
Her brother’s attention snapped up at the warning in time to see the attack coming. The two lashing whips were coming from above and across. One would rip off his legs and the other would cave his skull into his chest and smear the remains into the acid to be dissolved away into nothing but shattered bones.
He could maybe dodge one. But not both. Not from that angle.
In a split-second decision, he leaped to the side with a twist while dragging something within the acid up with him, scalding his hands as the tendril that threatened to crush him slammed down below him. And as he raised his arms to defend himself from being slammed from the side, she could see that it was a shield. It must’ve been at least Silver or Mythril quality considering it was still solid despite the acid.
But, without purchase on the ground, nothing was bracing him from the hit.
She watched as the shield was sent flying into the air while her brother went rocketing into the fleshy wall hard enough that the entire chamber shook. She watched as his body, which by some miracle hadn’t broken open like fruit and spilled his innards, trembled against the wall as he gasped for breath. Then she watched him slide down into the acid that frothed vigorously to consume his quivering body as blood spilled from the back of his head.
“BELLLLLLLLL!!!” She called out his name with a deafening cry, hoping for a response. It was okay if he called her name. it was okay if he called her his sister. As long as he responded, whatever he called her was fine.
He didn’t answer.
Then the creature’s appendages reared back as though to finish the job.
“UNLEASHED STREAK OF LIGHT, BOW LIMBS OF THE HOLY TREE—”
Never in her life had she chanted faster. The accumulation of magic was shoddy and erratic, ill befitting of a Mage of any caliber. Her voice was hoarse and disordered rather than the lilt that normally caressed her lips as she wove her spell. She was sure if any other caster saw her, they would look upon her in disgust.
But Lefiya didn’t care about any of that.
She just needed the spell to form to grab that monster’s attention from killing her little brother.
And it worked. The moment the golden magic circle formed its eye and focus turned from finishing off dying prey to that which had tantalizing magic that it yearned to consume. She became its only thought, its only desire, its only prey as those tendrils came for her.
She stopped the chant now that she had its attention, the magical energy dispersing around her rather than being woven into the spell. It was fortunate that the spells brought forth by the Falna were so appropriate for the caster that there was less of a risk of an Ignis Fatuus. Not because she cared about the backlash, but because the moment she went down her brother would follow.
But she knew she had to finish her next cast. She had to finish and kill it. She had to before he drew his last breath and his flesh melted from the bone.
“Unleashed streak of Light—” She began her song anew, willing to throw away any notion of defense for that purpose. Her magic was geared towards the destruction of her enemies. It would have to serve as the salvation for her brother now that he could no longer move. “Bow limbs of the Holy Tree. You are an expert of the Bow.”
But, in the end, it wasn’t enough. “Shoot, Sniper of the Faeries—aah!?”
Her song faltered as one of the tendrils managed to snake around her leg now that her evasion had diminished. It ripped away the ground from beneath her, hauling her into the air and upside down. She could no longer run away.
And the other tendril was reared back, ready to be unleashed.
—Ah… I’m going to die.
It would swing as hard as it could. Hard enough that it would tear her in half, or at least take off her leg. Even if her Falna and Status wouldn’t let her die so easily from that, it would have no trouble finishing her off. It was over.
Sorry, Bell. I was a horrible older sister. Now we’re both going to die and return to Heaven.
She knew of the fate of all that lived. Death would return their souls to the heavens above. Then they would someday be born anew, but only after they had faded from the living memory of mortals. Such was the way of the world.
I hope that when we’re reborn, it’ll be as siblings again. Lefiya prayed, so deeply that she hoped it would be etched into her soul. So thoroughly entrenched that it would persevere beyond the ages. I swear I’ll be there for you the next time. I’ll dedicate my soul to you, and I’ll always be by your side. That’s the only way for me to atone for robbing you of everything.
Then death closed in as the whip was unleashed—
—and a dull silver saw streaked past her so fast that her hair thrashed madly. The enclosing death was severed as it whirled past, the narrow part of the whip meant to tear through by placing an absurd amount of momentum into such a thin area torn clean off and left to fly away as a shadow leapt up from behind her.
It was Bell.
His immaculate white hair was blotched crimson as rivulets of blood trailed down his face. His lips were peeled back, and his mouth was wrenched open as he shouted at the top of his lungs while brandishing that onyx knife. It was a vicious expression that didn’t suit the placid visage he wore every other time she had seen him as he swung the knife that had the luminous blue writing of the gods upon it turn a vibrant shade of red—
—and scarlet flames bloomed riotously as he brought it against the tendril holding her upside down. She could feel the heat and force of the explosion as the appendage keeping her aloft jerked before its grip went slack. She began to fall as the smoldering, cauterized section of the tendril retracted, leaving her to right herself almost on reflex as she descended while the portion that had kept her aloft splashed down into the acid.
Bell landed ahead of her and raised his right hand to the heavens, his left arm chambered beneath it as though to brace it while he called out that name again. “FIREBOLT!!”
Fire erupted from his palm this time. It snaked like a lightning bolt right towards the cyclopean eye that seemed to reel back in pain or surprise. And where it connected the flames ran wild as they came unbound, savagely attempting to incinerate. She had thought for a fleeting moment the knife had been a magic sword with a fire spell bound into it, but…
“FIREBOLT! FIREBOLT! FIREBOLT!”
She realized that wasn’t the case at all as he shouted over, and over, and over again with a hoarse, powerful voice and the fire leapt to his call each and every time from his bare hand. It was magic—his own personal magic.
Not a short chant spell. Not even a super-short chant spell. There was no chant at all that proceeded the accumulation of the magical power.
Her brother had Magic that was instant.
“Sorry that I passed out for a moment!” Bell said as he panted while his blood continued to drip down into acid below with every hard breath he took, the smoke and embers from his instant flames obscuring the eye that had been glaring down on them as it whipped its tendrils above to try and clear its vision. “We need your Magic!”
“Mine won’t be enough,” he said, taking an offensive stance as the smoke thinned. “Cast your spells! I’ll protect you this time! I swear!”
It was ludicrous to her. Even she could tell he was barely standing and could barely protect himself. She couldn’t put him at risk as the vanguard in that condition. Not as his older sister who needed to protect her younger brother…
Or so she thought until she noticed something as she stared at his back which seemed so much broader than she expected. Covered in blood, his flesh and clothes sizzling from the acid, he was no different from her. In that moment they were the same.
Younger brother or not, he was still someone who had faced danger to come this far. Even if he saw her as his older sister, he also saw her as an Adventurer. And between Adventurers there was something each should have that surpassed anything else:
They had respect for one another because they were the same. They were the ones who braved the depths of the Dungeon in the hopes of conquering it. They were the ones who explored the unknown and defeated the monsters, risking life and limb to do so.
He respected her as an Adventurer, even if he saw her as his sister. Specifically, he respected her as a Mage in need of a Vanguard. But she hadn’t done the same for him—a Vanguard in need of a Mage capable of ending the battle.
She needed to respond to his respect with her own.
She needed to put her life in his hands.
“It’ll be drawn to my Magic, and I’ll be slower to respond,” she began to explain why she needed him to play the role that would thrust him into danger. “It’ll take time for me to accumulate the magical power to make sure I can kill it, but if you can keep it blind and distract it for me until I’m ready I swear I’ll get it done!”
It was a duty unbefitting of an older sister to assign her younger brother that needed to be protected. But for an Adventurer who was someone to be fought alongside as equals… there was no more fitting role.
“Protect me and I’ll sing for you, Bell!!“