Is it wrong to try to meet someone in a dungeon?

He held a wounded orc woman in his arms.

It was clear at a glance that it was a fatal wound; the bleeding wouldn't stop, and the adventurer would probably never wake up again.

"Kill it quickly, that monster...!"

This is a cold and dark maze.

The male adventurer, tears streaming down his face, held his badly injured companion and looked ahead. From the darkness deep within the road, he saw a pair of dangerous eyes gleaming menacingly as they approached.

This matter is very simple; it's just a trivial thing that often happens in the dungeon.

These large monsters, which dwell in the lower levels and attack higher-level adventurers, occasionally come to the upper levels. Due to this unusual situation, they are unilaterally ravaged and ultimately forced to retreat helplessly.

They were asking me for help when I happened to be passing by.

Because he couldn't receive timely treatment, his seriously injured companion probably... She didn't leave any last words and died right in front of us.

“I know we misjudged the risks, and we chose this path ourselves, but, but…”

Since one is to make a living as an adventurer, one must also be prepared to die at any time.

After all, there are plenty of comfortable jobs out there. But they, along with the orc woman who had already died, all chose to become adventurers. Was it for wealth and fame, to satisfy their desires, or were they seduced by the "unknown"? Whatever their reasons, they knew the risks beforehand, but they still voluntarily chose this profession.

Therefore, they have no right to resent the monster.

Since you've chosen to become an adventurer, whether you've suffered an incurable injury or lost an irreplaceable companion, if you were to hate monsters, you'd be fundamentally mistaken and would only make yourself look ridiculous.

The male adventurer pondered this rule, tears streaming down his face as he held the gradually cooling corpse of his companion.

"Please, help us get revenge...!"

He vented his personal grievances in despair, while sobbing as he pleaded with me.

This is the first time I have witnessed an adventurer die.

There must be many similar scenes in places I don't know about, but I haven't truly faced this cruel reality yet.

As I watched my colleague breathe his last, I felt utterly lost, and looking at this tearful person... I stopped thinking and moving.

The wavering and distractions gradually disappeared, and now my hands and feet move with a clear will.

I'm going to defeat that monster that's approaching with a ferocious roar.

“Bell…”

"Lord Bell..."

Behind them came the calls of Welf and Lily.

I gripped the "Dagger of God" and charged at the roaring monster with all my might.

*

In Orario, death is a common occurrence.

Whether it's the distant past or the present.

While people enjoy peace, death always arrives silently without warning, and this is the tragic end of those hailed as heroes. Most of the deceased do not receive people's sympathy. The only certainty is that most of these deaths are caused by battles with monsters.

Countless souls now rest here.

Orario is such a city.

On the surface, it is a bustling labyrinthine city known as the "center of the world," but this is a transformation that has occurred over the years. In reality, the battle between people and monsters continues to this day.

This city is also a graveyard where death is born.

Throughout history, the essence of this city has remained unchanged; it is still humanity's last stronghold.

Since ancient times, this place has been a fortress that isolates the outside world from the labyrinth—a symbol of the sorrowful aspirations of those who wield weapons.

Because Orario is the "originating land".

but.

From another perspective, monsters are also victims. Driven by the times, monsters have become objects of cruelty and slaughter for human selfishness, with people selling "magic stones" or parts of their bodies for money. Humans have slaughtered monsters at the cost of prosperity. This is an undeniable fact.

But people certainly wouldn't admit it, but the gods, who transcend common sense, would see the problem from this perspective and arrive at this conclusion.

However, thinking about such things is just a waste of time.

Long ago, monsters poured into the surface through the "Great Hole," ravaging the lower realm and thus deciding everything. It's an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. The antagonism between humans and monsters is absolutely unshakeable; they are destined to be mutually hateful and constantly fighting each other.

But—it all started with the monsters coming to the ground.

The hatred and anger of the people were all ignited by the "big hole" of the dungeon and the monsters.

The girl thought to herself.

(...)

In this darkness, all alone, Ais heard cries of grief and resentment.

To avenge their grievances, to protect their descendants, and to fulfill the tragic wishes of the people.

These unfamiliar voices were interspersed with somewhat familiar whispers, and numerous prayers lingered in my ears, as if countless hands were reaching out to me in the darkness, pleading, pleading, and still groaning incessantly.

This is the voice of the deceased, and also the long-cherished wish of those who look forward to the future.

The young girl looked down at her tender hands and nodded gently.

As before, the girl drew her sword, swung it forcefully before her eyes, and gripped the weapon tightly, as if demonstrating her resolve.

Then, I woke up.

"……kindness."

Ais slowly opened her eyes.

A familiar ceiling appeared in the hazy vision; judging from the unsightly interior, this should be my room.

After tending to the weapons at noon, Ais seemed to have fallen asleep right there in the room. She sat up in bed, looking at her beloved sword and towel standing beside her, and then vaguely remembered what had just happened.

The room has gotten a bit dark.

I glanced at the clock; it was already evening.

Looking out the open window, the sun had already set, and night was beginning to blanket the sky from the east.

"..."

At that moment, the dream I had just had resurfaced before my eyes.

In the dream, I accepted everything.

I don't feel forced, nor do I feel pressured, nor am I driven by a sense of mission or a feeling that this is the only thing I can do.

Ais silently sheathed the sword leaning against the wall, then stood up, just about to close the swaying curtains of the window—

"...?"

Standing by the window, Ais noticed that the city looked different from usual.

Although it was almost night, the dazzling light emitted by the countless magic stone lamps was nowhere to be seen. The entire street was shrouded in darkness, and most importantly, the usual lively noise and boisterousness of the people had all vanished.

After looking around at the scenery outside the window, Ais whispered, "Oh, right."

"Today is a day of mourning..."

That's probably why I have those kinds of dreams.

Ais thought to herself as she gazed at the clusters of flickering firelight illuminating the wide street.

*

We've finally made it back to the ground.

In the end, we destroyed the ferocious monster that roared menacingly and wielded sharp claws.

It was a narrow victory. After all, it was a monster that had routed a squad and taken a life, so it was incredibly strong, and I was covered in wounds. My armor was covered in claw marks, I was covered in blood, and I even felt the call of death again, something I hadn't experienced in a long time. It truly was a victory that felt like walking a tightrope.

However, I did not feel a real sense of revenge.

I didn't have any sense of mission—that letting this monster go would cause a disaster, or that we couldn't afford to lose any more victims.

I simply felt an indescribable sadness and pain upon seeing the tears of those who had lost their companions.

"...Thank you, Bell Craney."

The male adventurer thanked me for defeating the monster, and I could see tears in his eyes as he expressed his gratitude.

I am unable to respond.

"It's already evening..."

Leaving the dungeon, I arrived at the first floor of the skyscraper facility. Looking out through the permanently open doors, I murmured to myself. The central plaza, surrounded by the giant tower, was already shrouded in night.

Lily, Welf, and I, along with the heavily damaged squad, worked together to haul the already cold corpses from the maze to the surface. We fought off the attacking monsters while protecting the remains.

That adventurer party belonged to the "Dellin Familia." The male adventurer leader who asked Bell to avenge him was named Edgar. The deceased orc adventurer was named Celia.

After Edgar and the others placed Celia's body on the ground, they all fell silent.

Beside the sparsely populated staircase, only a few adventurers watched this familiar scene from afar. These gazes were a mixture of mockery and sorrow, and of course, there were also many indifferent onlookers.

Lily and Welf patted me on the shoulder as I stared at Mr. Edgar. It was time for us to leave.

Urged on by the two of them, we left the "Tower of Babel".

"...? What happened to the central square...?"

As soon as I stepped outside, I noticed that the scene in the central square was different from usual.

The vast open space in the center of the city was decorated with numerous ornaments, and ribbons, banners, and bouquets hung from some of the standing wooden posts. What surprised me most was that none of the many magic stone lamps around were lit; only the candles emitted a faint glow.

Looking out from the central square, I realized that there was no light from the magic stone lamps on the street.

"I remember now, today is the Elegy Festival."

"I've been spending too much time on the 'middle-class' streets and I've forgotten."

I looked around incredulously, while Welf and Lily beside me seemed to wake up from a dream and said...

I couldn't help but tilt my head and ask, "A dirge ceremony?"

"Don't you know... Oh right, Lord Bell just arrived in Orario."

"It's not surprising that I don't know," Lily said, as Welf, who was standing to the side, explained for me.

“The elegiac ceremony, simply put, is a memorial service used to mourn the spirits of ‘heroes’ in heaven.”

"Mourning, 'hero'...?"

"Yes, in the 'ancient times,' heroes sacrificed themselves to stop the monsters swarming out of the 'Great Hole' and into Orario. To pay tribute to them... that's about it."

"Also, this is to commemorate the great deeds of the heroes, so it is also a thanksgiving ceremony."

There were also some Orario civilians who weren't adventurers gathered in the square... Lily added, looking tenderly at the young boys and girls holding flowers.

Regardless of age or gender, most humans and demi-humans wear holy white robes and hold candlesticks.

"As is well known, many monuments to heroes have been erected in the forecourt of the Orario Guild headquarters and in the 'First Cemetery.' Every year, people regularly set off from the central square to tour around the various memorial monuments."

"Finally, we will return here to offer a eulogy. As we just mentioned, this is to express our respect and gratitude."

It is said that this elegiac ceremony—a lament for the heroes—will continue until the next morning.

During this time, Orario will not light Materia lamps, but will instead use the light of candles. This is to recreate the "ancient" nights of the heroes' lives, where every corner of the city, from bustling streets and entertainment districts to industrial areas, homes, and taverns, will be illuminated by fire. The guilds will also be affected, with many uniformed staff members visible in the central square.

The vast starry sky above and the countless faint lights on the ground shone brightly.

The daily hustle and bustle seems like an illusion; now the entire city is shrouded in a solemn atmosphere.

Even the usual pleasant clamor of the gods vanished without a trace today.

Everyone in Orario holds the highest reverence for the heroes.

"Moreover, this is also a ritual used to mourn modern adventurers... and to mourn those who died in the dungeon."

Hearing Lily's soft explanation, I could hear the wavering within myself.

Modern adventurers, and "ancient" heroes.

Orario holds this memorial service every year to mourn them.

It was both to mourn the departed adventurers and to express gratitude to the heroes...

I snapped out of my reverie, stopped, and looked back. I thought of Mr. Edgar, who was still standing beside Miss Celia's body.