Chapter 401
Responding to the summon of Ouranos, Draco had left the Bahamut Familia estate early in the morning.
The sprawling complex felt lively as he made his way through its corridors and out into the crisp Orario air.
Making his way along the busy west main street, the city was slowly stirring to life.
Merchants were setting up their stalls, their booming voices already echoing off centuries-old buildings.
Early adventurers, their armor clanking, headed towards the Dungeon entrance or the Guild, their faces a mix of anticipation and wariness.
His own presence, as usual, quickly drew attention.
Whispers followed him like a shadow.
“Is that Draco of the Bahamut Familia?”
“Yea looks like it?”
“I heard a few days ago, he seduced the sword princess……..and the Loki familia went crazy!” But Draco ignored them, his gaze fixed on the imposing façade of the Guild building.
Inside, the Guild Hall was already bustling.
Adventurers queued to register their finds, apply for quests, or simply gather information. Draco’s entrance, even amidst the chaos, caused a ripple.
Heads turned, conversations died down, and a palpable shift in the atmosphere occurred.
He simply walked, his long, scaled tail swishing almost imperceptibly behind him, until his gaze met the a very familiar guild employee approaching him.
It was Rose.
She moved with her usual reserved efficiency, her uniform impeccable, her expression typically unreadable.
But as she drew closer, stopping a fair distance from Draco, he could discern the subtle cracks in her stoic façade.
Various emotions cycled through her eyes…....a flicker of anger, a hint of something akin to hurt, and perhaps, a touch of resignation.
It was a kaleidoscope he hadn't seen in years, a stark contrast to the indifferent mask she usually wore for the public.
“It’s been a while, Rose,” Draco said, his voice a low, steady rumble that seemed to cut through the ambient noise of the Guild Hall.
He could tell that Rose was conflicted, about what exactly, he didn’t know even after all this time.
They had parted five years ago under ambiguous circumstances, and since his return, his attempts at contact had been met with polite but firm avoidance.
Now they had finally met, he wanted to know if she really had been avoiding him, and why.
Rose, on the other hand, was genuinely confused with herself.
She was angry with Draco, that much was true, but why she was angry was the confusing part. Their relationship, hers, Draco’s, and the entire Bahamut Familia’s, wasn't that complicated. They were simply the familia she had been assigned to.
Indeed, she had formed a close bond with some of its members, Draco included, but it wasn't deep enough, she believed, to warrant such a visceral reaction from her.
But when Draco had left Orario five years ago without telling her why, a variety of emotions she didn’t know she was capable of expressing had exploded out of her.
Disappointment, betrayal, a sense of loss that felt disproportionate to their connection.
As the years went by, those turbulent emotions had dulled, eroding into what she had convinced herself was indifference.
She had buried them deep, built walls around them.
But upon hearing of his return to Orario, those emotions had come back in full force, like a dam breaking after a long drought.
Perhaps Rose was scared to show such an ugly, messy side of herself to him, to admit the depth of feeling she hadn't realized she possessed.
So she had tried avoiding him, maintaining the illusion of her professional detachment.
Now, facing him, the charade was going to come to an end.
But they both knew now wasn’t the time, nor was it a good place to bring up such intimate topics.
There was no need to provide gossip for the curious onlookers who were already pretending not to intently listen.
“Yes, it has, Draco,” Rose replied after a moment of silence, her voice a little tighter than usual, but regaining its professional crispness.
Though still conflicted, her training and sense of duty kicked in.
She had a job to do.
“Please, this way. Ouranos-sama has been expecting you,” Rose said, her voice now completely devoid of personal inflection, a practiced mask falling firmly into place.
“Please lead the way,” Draco replied, his gaze still lingering on her a moment longer before he turned and followed her.
The walk to the entrance of Ouranos’s lair beneath the Guild was awfully silent.
Rose led the way with brisk, measured steps, her back ramrod straight.
Draco followed, his steps light despite his size, his mind a whirl of unasked questions and half-formed regrets.
Both parties were unsure of how to navigate their suddenly re-ignited situation.
Arriving at the entrance…..a massive, fortified door, reinforced with bands of iron.
Rose walked to the side, showing no intention of entering.
Her eyes were closed, her head bowed slightly, and she simply pointed at the door.
Its meaning was clear: she could go no further than this.
Guild employees, even senior ones, were rarely permitted into Ouranos’s sanctum.
‘Sigh, I wonder what is going through her mind,’ Draco mused, stopping only inches away from her, the heavy silence between them amplifying the subtle tremor he noticed in her shoulders.
He hesitated, then spoke, his voice softening.
“I don’t know exactly what went wrong with us, Rose.”
He paused, sorting his thoughts, choosing his words with care.
He acknowledged the past, yet sought to delineate a new future.
“But I apologize if it is my fault. I know it will be hard to return as we once were, but I hope we can start afresh as acquaintances.”
This was the best Draco could do.
Anymore consideration for her, any further probing into her feelings or apologies for actions he didn't fully understand, would feel demeaning to himself.
He offered a clean slate, a new definition for their relationship that acknowledged the break without dwelling in the wreckage.
Upon hearing what he said, Rose’s body trembled perceptibly.
A wave of shame, sharp and sudden, flooded her.
He hadn’t really done anything wrong, not from a logical point of view, she realized with a cold clarity.
All this drama, all this internal turmoil, was caused by her own emotions.
She had unknowingly planted her own expectations on him, then went ahead to be disappointed, even angry, when he didn’t act as she wanted, when he didn’t fit into the mold she had unconsciously created for him.
Then, she had added all her accumulated frustration from life and work, and piled it on him like it was all his fault such things happened.
‘Doesn’t this make me a horribly selfish person?’ she realized, the truth a bitter taste in her mouth.
This was why his words hurt all the much more, not because they were cruel, but because they were fair, and they laid bare her own unreasonable reactions.
But what could she do now?
The words had already been said, a boundary drawn, and she could only accept the direction it was heading.
Perhaps starting afresh was the best solution, at least that way she could salvage some shred of her dignity and integrity.
Looking up, her eyes, now clear and resolute, met his gaze.
Rose nodded in agreement, a more determined and less conflicted expression on her face.
The storm within her had not entirely passed, but it had certainly quieted.
Draco smiled, a small, genuine curve of his lips, seeing her somewhat positive reaction.
It was a fragile truce, but a start.
Without saying anything more, he turned around and pushed open the massive, fortified door.
It groaned open with a deep, resonant sound, revealing the path to Ouranos’s sanctum.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Upon going through the doors, Draco was greeted with a winding flight of dimly lit stairs spiraling downward into the earth.
The air immediately grew heavy, thick with unseen energies and the oppressive silence of something ancient and powerful.
From deep within, he could feel a rather suffocating presence, one similar to that of Io, far warmer, but more detached.
‘Oof, how scary,’ Draco mused, his tail tensing up instinctively as he began his descent into Ouranos’s lair.
The stone steps, worn smooth by countless years and unknown visitors, seemed to absorb all sound, making his own footsteps feel unnervingly loud.
The descent felt long, a journey into the very heart of Orario.
Soon, Draco arrived at the bottom, stepping into a large, circular prayer room.
Like the stairwell, it was filled with dimly lit magic lamps, their light casting long, dancing shadows across the ancient depictions carved into the walls and floor.
The air here was even heavier, imbued with an almost dizzying concentration of divinity.
At the other end of the room, seated on a throne-like altar, Ouranos was enthroned.
His form was distinct in the gloom, a vast, imposing being radiating immense power and, weary wisdom.
Beside him was a dark silhouette of a person.
The figure wore a heavy, hooded cloak and a veil over their face, obscuring all features.
They gave off a unique presence…..ethereal, ancient, and undeniably non-living.
This was Fels.
“Welcome, child of Io,” Ouranos’s voice boomed a few seconds after Draco entered the room, deep and resonant, vibrating through the very stones of the chamber.
It was a voice that commanded attention, a voice that had witnessed epochs.
“Greetings to you, Lord Ouranos, and…?” Draco paused, his gaze shifting respectfully to the silhouette beside Ouranos.
Although Draco knew precisely who Fels was from his past life, he had to act as if he didn’t. Any lie to a deity of Ouranos’s caliber, would be exposed in an instant, likely with severe repercussions.
Once one lie was exposed, it could very well lead to more questions, forcing him to lie once more, breaking any hope for trust with Ouranos.
Ouranos was one of the few deities Draco genuinely respected; not only was he the one keeping the world from destruction by sealing the Dungeon’s Malevolence, but he was also a deity who had a lot of empathy for mortals.
The mortal world wasn’t entirely a game to him, and he genuinely cared for their well-being.
“Hmm, this is Fels, an aide of sorts,” Ouranos introduced, his voice carrying a subtle hint of amusement.
“Nice to meet you, Fels,” Draco greeted with a nod.
It was hard to tell Fels’ gender from outward appearance, as there was no clear indication on his/her shrouded body.
The voice was neither distinctly masculine nor feminine, but rather a weird, raspy whisper.
“I have heard a lot about you, Draco. It is my honor to finally meet you in person,” Fels said, the voice almost like dry leaves rustling in a forgotten tomb.
There was an unnerving intensity in Fels's hidden gaze.
“With introductions out of the way, it’s time to address the reason you were called here, child of Io,” Ouranos said, getting straight to the point, his luminous eyes appearing to pierce the gloom to fix upon Draco.
“Have you heard of the death of Hashana Dorlia?” Ouranos asked.
“Yes, I have. Although I didn’t know him personally, I received a report from the Ganesha Familia, outlining the circumstances,” Draco replied, recalling the grim details of the veteran adventurer's demise.
“I see, then that makes things easy… Fels,” Ouranos said, inclining his head slightly towards his aide.
“Ahem,” Fels began, adjusting their body.
“Several days ago, I had commissioned Hashana to retrieve a Jewel Fetus which had been spotted on the 30th Floor. You do know what Jewel Fetuses are, right?” Fels asked, their tone lacking any real question, more of a confirmation.
“Yes,” Draco responded, a slight frown marring his face.
He knew them all too well.
The Demi-Spirits, he recalled, were insidious beings, born from the malevolence of a Corrupted Spirit and serving as its avatars.
These monsters were not born in their final, terrifying form; instead, they began as something called a Jewel Fetus.
In this earliest, most vulnerable state, it was usually placed at the base of a Pantry’s quartz pillar to feed.
Pantries, unique Dungeon areas, secreted a nutrient-rich liquid that allowed the Jewel Fetus to absorb vital sustenance.
The more it consumed, the more it would develop, and thus the more powerful the resulting Demi-Spirit would be.
Despite how defenseless it appeared to be, and how it actually was in this nascent form, the Jewel Fetus could move to a certain extent.
If provoked or sensing a suitable host, it was able to launch itself at a target to parasitize it.
After the Jewel Fetus parasitized a monster or a person, it passed to the next stage in its evolution, called Female Body Type.
While they possessed special abilities at this point, no Demi-Spirit in this state was able to use magic yet, nor could they speak, at least not until full maturity.
Once they had consumed enough magic stones, a Female Body Type would reach its final, terrifying form, in which it was finally referred to as a Demi-Spirit.
These ultimate forms in general did not have a high level of intelligence and were dominated by basic instincts, much like the Corrupted Spirit itself.
Consequently, they craved consuming other spirits to add them to their existence, a fate Draco considered utterly abhorrent.
“Great, since you know… I am sure you can already guess why you were called here,” Fels said, the raspy voice gaining a note of urgency.
“I understand, but why wait till now, and why me?” Draco asked, cutting straight to the heart of his confusion.
Several days had passed since Hashana failed his mission and was killed.
There were other high-level adventurers, accomplished and brave, capable of fulfilling such a request.
Why him specifically, and why the delay?
Fels seemed to pause at the question, their body unnervingly still, before letting out an exhausted sigh that seemed entirely out of place for a being that was supposedly a skeleton and couldn’t feel much.
“I am ashamed to say, but after the attack on the 18th Floor, we temporarily lost track of the fetus. Our attempts at tracking it were muddled by someone’s intervention. And after some divination, it has been moved, along with its nurturing environment, to the 45th Floor.”
Upon hearing "divination," Draco subconsciously glanced at the mirror-like apparatus at the corner of the room.
Ouranos, of course, didn’t miss this subtle glance, his deep-set eyes narrowing in curiosity at Draco’s quick observation.
It was a fleeting moment, but a telling one.
“I understand. I will accept,” Draco said after a moment’s thought, his frown deepening.
The 45th Floor.
Not only was it significantly deeper and more perilous than the 30th, but the monsters there were on an entirely different scale of power.
There weren’t many adventurers, even among the highest levels, that could solo dive to the 45th Floor, let alone scour for something as subtle as a Jewel Fetus.
His unique constitution, his strength, and his deep connection to spirits, indeed made him uniquely suited for a task of this nature.
The risks were, negligible and Draco himself was quite curious about Demi-spirits.
Besides, with the return of the Bahamut familia expedition team around the corner, it was about time he entered the dungeon.
A/N: Yay, finally we made it to chapter 400………and yes I know things are still slow, but I am sort of prepping the antagonists in the background while progressing……coming to think of it unlike in the original where Ryuu went crazy hunting the evilus remnants…..many are still alive……like Valletta, Olivas, Vito, Revis and much more……I am even considering a scenario where Alfia........never mind lol.
Feel free to read ahead on pat3on, donate and read 2 extra chapters as a free member.