Warmth. Softness. A pleasant, weighty pressure pressing against his body.
Felis cracked one eye open. The morning light filtering through the cracks in the old church barely registered in his mind—not when his focus was entirely on the goddess entangled around him like an affectionate octopus.
Hestia clung to him shamelessly, her arms wrapped tightly around his torso, her legs tangled with his own. Her soft chest was pressed snugly against his side, and her breath, warm and steady, tickled his neck.
With a smirk, he shifted slightly, just enough to pull her closer. His hand found its way to her back, tracing slow, lazy circles as he let himself indulge in the warmth of the moment. Normally, he held back, keeping his hands in check—but today? Just a little bit wouldn't hurt.
'Curiosity killed the cat… but today is not that day'
He leaned in just a bit more, his face brushing against hers as he inhaled the scent of her hair, so soft and intoxicating. His fingers, now more daring, slipped beneath the fabric of her nightwear, teasing the skin at the base of her spine. A soft shiver ran through her, and he couldn't help but smile to himself. It was tempting—so very tempting—but he kept it at that. He let the moment linger, enjoying the closeness and the unspoken warmth of the bond between them. His thoughts drifted briefly to other ways he could push the boundaries, but for now, this was enough. The silence was just as sweet, filled with only the sound of their steady breathing.
He could feel her body relax further against his, the weight of her drunkenness still settling in, and he reveled in the security of the moment. This was something they hadn't had before—something that went beyond words, beyond teasing.
Eventually, though, the moment had to end. With one last, lingering squeeze, he carefully untangled himself from her grasp. She grumbled in protest, letting out a sleepy murmur.
Slipping out of bed, he stretched before making his way to the washbasin to freshen up, washing away the remnants of sleep—and any lingering traces of last night. As he ran a hand through his hair, preparing for the day, a groggy voice mumbled from behind him.
"Ugh… my head…"
Felis turned to see Hestia stirring, rubbing her temples with a pained expression. Her usually lively blue eyes were dulled with the weight of a hangover.
He leaned casually against the washbasin, amusement dancing in his golden eyes. "Rough morning?"
Hestia groaned, burying half her face in the blanket as she sluggishly sat up. "Don't talk so loud…"
Felis walked up and steadied her by the shoulders, a teasing thought slipping into his mind.
"Want me to ease your hangover?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement.
Hestia, too sluggish to think properly, simply nodded. "Mmm… yeah, please."
Felis leaned down as if to do something profound. Hestia, still half-asleep, with her eyes closed didn't react—until she felt the gentle press of his lips against her forehead.
A jolt ran through her. Her breath hitched. Her mind, already sluggish, completely short-circuited.
Felis pulled away, grinning. "See? No more hangover."
Hestia sat there, frozen. Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Slowly, her hands shot up, pressing against her forehead as if trying to contain the lingering warmth.
Then, as the realization sank in, her face exploded into a deep, fiery red.
"Y-Y-Y-Y-YOU—!!"
Felis, already turning away, waved over his shoulder. "I'll go get breakfast ready."
Hestia, still flustered beyond reason, grabbed a pillow with the intent to hurl it at him—only for her arms to get tangled in the blankets. She let out a muffled yelp before toppling over, completely wrapped up like a struggling caterpillar.
A muffled scream of frustration followed.
Felis chuckled to himself.
'Yeah… totally worth it.'
---
The scent of simmering broth filled the air, rich and fragrant with a mix of herbs and tender cuts of meat. A pot of hangover cure soup bubbled gently over the fire—a simple yet nourishing dish made with hearty broth, eggs, ginger, and vegetables to replenish lost fluids and ease headaches.
Felis worked effortlessly, cracking an egg into the pot and stirring it in smooth motions. Compared to his first few days in Orario, mornings like this had become routine—waking early, preparing food, and getting ready for the Dungeon.
Behind him, sluggish footsteps echoed through the old church.
Hestia shuffled in, rubbing her temples with a pitiful groan. "Ugh… my head's killing me…"
Felis, stirring the pot over the fire, glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "Oh? You still feel the hangover? I thought I already cured you."
Hestia stiffened mid-step. Her mind, still sluggish, struggled to process his words—until the memory of the forehead kiss resurfaced in vivid detail.
Her face ignited.
She opened her mouth—then snapped it shut, her entire body trembling. Instead of shouting, she fixed Felis with a piercing death glare, her cheeks burning so brightly they practically glowed.
Felis turned back to his cooking, completely unfazed. "Guess my method wasn't that effective," he mused. "Maybe I should've tried something stronger?"
Hestia's fists clenched at her sides as she glared daggers at him. "I dare you to try that!"
Felis' feline ears twitched. He turned around, golden eyes gleaming with amusement, a playful smirk curling on his lips. "How about we find out whether I dare or not?"
Hestia's entire face turned crimson. Her embarrassment peaked—too much, too fast. With a strangled noise, she bolted to the makeshift table, plopped onto the chair, and flopped face-first onto the surface.
Felis chuckled, the sound rich with amusement. "I'll take that as a surrender."
Before she could come up with a comeback, the aroma of hot broth filled the air, making her stomach grumble.
"…What are you making?" she muttered, plopping into a chair with a huff.
"Hangover cure soup," Felis said, ladling some into a bowl. "Should help with your headache."
Hestia rested her cheek against the cool wooden table. "We drank while having dinner… How was I supposed to know I'd wake up like this?"
Felis placed the bowl in front of her, his golden eyes glinting with amusement. "Because you got too excited and didn't pace yourself. Honestly, who keeps drinking that much when they're already tipsy?"
Hestia shot him a weak glare but grabbed the spoon. The moment the warm, flavorful broth touched her tongue, a pleased hum slipped out.
"Mmm… This is really good…"
Felis leaned back, watching her with an easy smirk. "Of course it is. Can't have my goddess suffering too much."
Hestia narrowed her eyes. "Too much? So you're admitting you enjoy teasing me?"
Felis gave a slow, lazy shrug. "Didn't I already prove that?"
Hestia huffed but continued eating, the warmth of the soup working its magic. Within minutes, her color returned, and she stretched with a satisfied sigh.
"Haah~ I feel way better now!"
Felis pushed back his chair. "Good. I need to head out soon."
Hestia blinked. "Already?"
"It's my third day in the Dungeon. Can't waste time."
Her expression shifted—something between pride and mild concern—but she quickly masked it with a smirk, crossing her arms.
"Well, don't slack off! You've got a goddess backing you, so make sure you do me proud!"
Felis chuckled, adjusting his gear. "What, worried about me?"
Hestia turned her nose up. "Nope! I just don't want my first Familia member to be a weakling!"
Felis grabbed his equipment and slung his pouch over his shoulder, casting Hestia one last glance. "I'll keep that in mind."
He turned toward the door, but then, as if remembering something, he smirked over his shoulder. "Actually… why don't you give me back my first hangover cure? It's not as effective as the soup, after all."
Hestia, still sipping her soup, nearly choked. She slammed the bowl onto the table, face burning. "W-WHAT?! You—! Y-You can't just say things like that so casually!"
Felis chuckled, waving lazily as he stepped outside. "Too late~"
The door shut behind him.
For a moment, there was silence—then Hestia buried her face in her hands, groaning. "Idiot, idiot, idiot…!"
She let out a frustrated whine before slumping against the table, her forehead pressing into the wood. "Stupid cat…"
And yet, despite her grumbling, the warmth lingering on her forehead refused to fade.
---
The crisp morning air carried the mingling scents of fresh bread, sizzling meat, and the faint hint of damp stone as Felis strolled through the streets of Orario. The city was already stirring to life—shopkeepers setting up their stalls, adventurers heading toward the Dungeon, and the usual chatter of townsfolk filling the air.
He exhaled, watching as a small wisp of breath faded into the cool morning. It was a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the old church, where the scent of herbs and broth still lingered in his mind.
'Hestia's probably still grumbling to herself…'
The thought brought a smirk to his lips. Her reactions were always amusing, and pushing her buttons was far too easy.
Still, last night's drinking had caused a minor inconvenience.
"I was supposed to update my Falna, but nooo, my goddess had to get tipsy and pass out," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. "Guess I'll have to wait until tonight."
Not that he expected any drastic growth from just two days in the Dungeon, but every little bit helped.
His system, however, was a different story.
With a subtle thought, the familiar blue screen appeared before his eyes.
---
[Job]
[Swordsman]
[Level: 4 (0/100)]
[Skill]
•Basic Swordsmanship Lv. 2 (18/100)
Foundational stance, strikes, and parries
•Weapon Handling Lv. 1 (0/100) Unlocks at Job Level 5
Proficient use of different types of swords.
•Footwork Mastery Lv. 1 (0/100) Unlocks at Job Level 10
Improves movement for offense and defense.
•Guard Break Lv. 1 (0/100) Unlocks at Job Level 15
A technique to weaken an opponent's defense.
•Endurance Training Lv. 1 (0/100) Unlocks at Job Level 20
Enhances stamina for prolonged combat.
[Growth Rate Buff ]
Strength: 4
Endurance: 2
Dexterity: 2
Agility: 2
Magic: 0
[EXP: 278]
---
His EXP gain wasn't as high as his first dive, likely because he was getting stronger. It made sense—just like how Excelia worked, fighting weaker monsters gave diminishing returns. Eventually, if the difference became too large, he wouldn't gain anything at all.
After some thought, Felis decided to level up his Swordsman job first, pushing it to Level 5, so he can unlocked the new skill, Weapon Handling level 1, for increasing his combat efficiency, also his growth rate buff will increase every 5 level albeit slightly, finally felis investing the rest into Basic Swordsmanship.
---
[Job]
[Swordsman]
[Level: 5 (0/200)]
[Skill]
•Basic Swordsmanship Lv. 3 (96/100)
Foundational stance, strikes, and parries
•Weapon Handling Lv. 1 (0/100)
Proficient use of different types of swords.
•Footwork Mastery Lv. 1 (0/100) Unlocks at Job Level 10
Improves movement for offense and defense.
•Guard Break Lv. 1 (0/100) Unlocks at Job Level 15
A technique to weaken an opponent's defense.
•Endurance Training Lv. 1 (0/100) Unlocks at Job Level 20
Enhances stamina for prolonged combat.
[Growth Rate Buff ]
Strength: 5
Endurance: 3
Dexterity: 3
Agility: 3
Magic: 0
[EXP: 0]
---
His Growth Rate Buff increased slightly—not by much, but every point mattered. The EXP cost for leveling up had doubled, but it was still manageable since this was just a basic job.
With new skill available and the basic swordsmanship level increase to level 3, Felis looking forward to the synergy of those two skill in battle
Felis dismissed the translucent blue screen with a thought, his golden eyes flickering toward the towering white marble walls in the distance.
'No point wasting time.'
With that, he adjusted his grip on the bag slung over his shoulder and made his way toward the Dungeon.
---
The stone corridors stretched before him, bathed in the Dungeon's dim, eerie glow. The air carried a stillness, only occasionally broken by the distant scuttling of unseen monsters. The first few floors had been familiar—narrow pathways, weak creatures, and an almost rhythmic predictability.
Felis moved with purpose, his steps measured yet swift. Goblins and kobolds lurked in the shadows, but he barely spared them a glance. A clean strike here, a quick thrust there—monsters fell in his wake, dissolving into black ash before they could even register their deaths. If they blocked his path, they died. If they didn't, he moved past them.
Efficiency.
That was what mattered.
Before long, he reached the staircase leading down. As he stepped onto the Fifth Floor, the shift in atmosphere was immediate.
The air was heavier, laced with a faint dampness that clung to the cavern walls. Unlike the narrow corridors above, this floor opened into wider halls with higher ceilings, branching paths, and jagged rock formations that cast twisting shadows. The terrain was uneven—some areas sloped downward, while others had sudden dips, making it an ideal hunting ground for ambush predators.
More space. More angles for an ambush.
Felis exhaled through his nose, sharpening his focus.
A sudden blur of white streaked through the dim light.
Felis caught the glint of crimson eyes—feral, predatory. Fast. His ears twitched, instinct catching the shift in the air before his mind fully registered the attack.
The Needle Rabbit lunged.
He pivoted, footwork sharp, tail flicking for balance. The creature's horn barely grazed past him, a rush of air against his tunic. Even before the monster skidded to a stop—claws scraping against stone—Felis was already in motion. His blade arced downward, a clean, precise stroke.
A sharp cry. A flicker of movement—then black ash scattered into the stale dungeon air.
Felis exhaled slowly, golden eyes scanning the corridor. 'It attacked the moment I stepped into its range. No hesitation.'
A faint rustle.
His ears twitched again. Peripheral vision caught a flicker of movement. Then another. Not alone.
The second Needle Rabbit shot forward, a blur of white fur and flashing claws. Unlike the first, this one didn't lunge blindly—it followed the failed strike with seamless aggression, using the brief opening to press the attack.
Smart. They hunt in waves.
But Felis wasn't prey.
Instead of retreating, he advanced.
A sudden burst of speed—closing the gap before the monster could adjust. His sword flicked outward, a feint, forcing the Needle Rabbit to flinch mid-charge. A fraction of a second, but that was all he needed.
Felis shifted his grip—Weapon Handling kicking in—adjusting the angle of his blade with precision. His body followed fluidly, twisting low as the sword bit into the Needle Rabbit's flank. The cut wasn't deep enough to kill, but it severed muscle—slowing its escape.
It thrashed, struggling, but Felis had already shifted position. One smooth motion—his tail bracing his balance, weight shifting on the balls of his feet—and he drove the blade home.
A brief tremor. Then nothing.
Another cloud of black ash.
He let out a slow breath, scanning the terrain. Two down. More to come.
The dungeon was unpredictable, but this—this controlled chaos—was where he sharpened himself.
And today, he would make full use of it.
---