The weight of her own body felt unbearable.
Narissa's steps were slow, unsteady—each one a battle against the exhaustion dragging her down. Her legs trembled beneath her, her vision blurred at the edges, and every breath felt like she was swallowing shards of glass. She had been walking for hours, or maybe just minutes—she could barely tell anymore.
The air was too still.
The vast, open landscape of the 18th Floor—Rivira's safe haven—stretched before her, its rolling green fields and towering trees bathed in the soft glow of the dungeon's artificial sky. The illusion of serenity.
It made her stomach twist.
Two days. She had been running for two days.
Her legs trembled with every step, her body screaming for rest. But she couldn't stop. Stopping meant thinking. Stopping meant remembering.
The soft grass of the 18th Floor should have been comforting beneath her boots, but she barely felt it. Her mind was numb, her body wracked with fatigue. She needed to rest. Just a little. Just enough to—
Her foot caught against an uneven patch of ground. She lurched forward, barely managing to catch herself against a nearby tree. The bark scraped against her palm, but the pain was distant, almost unreal compared to the deeper ache within her.
A bitter laugh escaped her lips, dry and hollow.
'So this is what's left of me…?'
She had barely survived. Her party—her friends—hadn't.
The 19th Floor had taken everything.
Her fingers curled into a fist against the rough bark as memories clawed their way back—flashes of their desperate battle, the screams, the moment their leader's confidence shattered when they were surrounded. He had thought they could handle it. They all had. But then the monsters came in waves, overwhelming them, ripping through their formation like it was nothing.
The sounds. The blood.
She staggered toward the shade of a tree, its ancient roots curling through the soft earth, and collapsed against the bark. Her fingers dug into the dirt, grounding herself.
But the moment her eyes shut—
The memory surged forward.
Blood. Screams. The sound of flesh being torn apart.
"We'll be fine. It's just a different route."
Her Captain's words echoed like a cruel joke.
Then the roar. The flickering of shadows. The moment confidence turned to horror.
Claws slashing through robes. Bones snapping like dry twigs. The stench of burning flesh.
"Fall back! RETREAT!"
She ran.
She ran while the sounds of her Familia being slaughtered filled the air. While their voices—people she had trained with, laughed with—were swallowed by the darkness.
She shouldn't have made it out.
And now, here she was—sitting in a paradise that felt like a graveyard.
Narissa shuddered, exhaling shakily.
She wasn't safe. Not really.
The 18th Floor was a neutral zone, a sanctuary where monsters didn't spawn, where adventurers rested between expeditions. Some even called it a second home.
But sanctuary meant nothing when the ghosts of the fallen still clung to her skin.
She staggered around the tree, finally letting herself collapse against the trunk. The shade provided little relief from the suffocating weight in her chest, but it was enough. She pulled her knees up, hugging them to herself as she tried to breathe through the numbness.
She should have gone back to the surface. She knew that. She should have run to the Guild, reported what happened, faced whatever came next.
But she hadn't.
She couldn't.
Not yet.
The thought of walking into Orario alone, of seeing the pity in the eyes of her Familia, of hearing the whispers—'She was the only one who survived'—was more terrifying than any monster.
She had seen other adventurers pass by, but she avoided them.
People can be worse than monsters.
Narissa swallowed dryly, her throat parched. She hadn't eaten in over a day. She had tried once, but the moment food touched her tongue, the memory of blood pooling on stone made her stomach twist.
Her head dipped forward.
Maybe I should just… sleep.
Maybe when she woke up, it would all turn out to be—
Footsteps.
Her muscles tensed, her body stiffening against the tree. The sound was light, unhurried. Not a monster. An adventurer.
She forced herself to peek from the corner of her eye.
Tall. Dark-haired. Feline ears twitched atop his head, golden eyes flickering in the dim light. His expression was unreadable, his movements too relaxed for someone in the dungeon.
He stopped a few paces away. His gaze flicked toward her.
Narissa held her breath.
Then—
"Yo."
Her mind blanked.
Of all the things she expected, that was not one of them.
Narissa had braced herself for pity, indifference, or even scorn. But the casual greeting caught her off guard. She blinked, uncertain, as the stranger—no, the adventurer—settled himself on a nearby rock, deliberately giving her space.
"Rough day?" he asked.
Her fingers curled tighter around her knees. Her muscles tensed on instinct, though she knew it was pointless here. The 18th Floor was a safe zone—no monsters, no imminent threats. But that didn't change the weight in her chest, the exhaustion seeping into her bones.
She hesitated.
"…You could say that," she finally muttered, barely above a whisper. Admitting it made something inside her sink a little deeper.
The adventurer didn't react much—just tilted his head slightly. His golden eyes, sharp yet oddly calm, studied her in a way that made her skin prickle.
"I heard about what happened on the 19th Floor." His voice was steady, without judgment. "You were part of that group, weren't you?"
A sharp intake of breath. Her grip on her knees tightened.
"…Yeah."
The word felt heavy. She didn't elaborate. Didn't need to.
Silence stretched between them, unspoken thoughts thick in the air. She expected him to push for details, to pry like the others had—but he didn't. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees.
"You hurt?"
Narissa opened her mouth automatically to say no—but the pause before her answer was too long.
"…Not anymore," she said, forcing the words out.
His gaze sharpened.
"…Liar."
Her whole body flinched.
Before she could snap back, a soft glow filled the air.
"Aqua Benedicta."
Warmth washed over her, spreading from his outstretched palm. A soothing sensation sank into her limbs, dissolving the tightness in her muscles, easing the strain she had ignored for hours—no, days.
Her breath caught.
By the time the magic faded, her shoulders sagged—not from pain, but from relief. She exhaled shakily, staring at her hands as if they belonged to someone else.
"…You didn't have to do that," she muttered.
"Didn't have to. Chose to," he said simply. "Now, try answering again. You hurt?"
Narissa hesitated, but this time, when she spoke, the words felt real.
"…Not anymore."
A nod. "Good."
Another silence settled. This one… less heavy.
"…I'm Felis Veltheris. Solo adventurer. You?"
She hesitated again, but there was little point in hiding. "…Narissa Valein."
"Alright, Narissa." He tilted his head toward the nearby hot spring. "That magic took care of your injuries, but you should soak for a while. It'll help with the tension."
Narissa glanced at the water, its surface rippling faintly in the dim glow of the 18th Floor's bioluminescent flora. The warmth rising from it looked… inviting.
But she hesitated.
Felis caught on immediately, smirking slightly. "I'll wait here. Make sure no one else shows up."
She studied him for a long moment, searching for some hidden motive. But his posture was relaxed, unconcerned. He wasn't pressuring her—just stating a fact.
Finally, she exhaled. "…Fine." as she stood and made her way toward the spring.
Without another word, she rose and pulled off the last pieces of her clothing, letting them slip to the side before stepping toward the spring. As she entered the water, the warmth wrapped around her like a second skin, melting away the last remnants of tension.
She glanced down at herself, running a hand over smooth, unblemished skin—where once there had been wounds and bruises, now there was nothing. Not even the faintest scar remained. Her fingers traced where deep gashes should have been, only to find flawless flesh beneath them.
This is… impossible.
She had seen magic heal before, but even the best healing spells usually left traces—faint scars, residual aches, something. Only one person in Orario was known to possess healing magic this exceptional: Amid Teasanare. Yet even hers wasn't instant; it required careful casting, and potions still played a role in her treatments. But Felis—his magic had erased every last mark, as if she had never been injured at all.
Who is he…?
For the first time in what felt like forever, she let herself relax, sinking deeper into the spring as warmth and newfound wonder settled in her heart.
For the first time in what felt like forever, she let herself relax.
A few minutes passed before she spoke. "…You're an adventurer, right?"
"Yeah."
"You heading up or down?"
"Down. I'm scouting the 19th Floor tomorrow. After that, I'll head back to the surface on Dawn Moon 30." He paused, then added casually, "If you want, I can get you there. No rush—just think about it."
Her fingers curled against the edge of the spring.
"…My party was wiped out there."
A long pause.
She hadn't meant to say it out loud, but the words had spilled forth before she could stop them. And now they hung in the air, irreversible.
Felis didn't flinch. Didn't offer meaningless condolences. He simply exhaled.
"I won't tell you to get over it," he said, voice steady. "But I will say this—you made it out. And if you're still here, you have the choice to keep moving forward."
His words settled over her like a quiet weight—not demanding, not dismissing. Just… reminding.
Narissa let out a slow breath.
"…Tell me what you know about the 19th Floor."
A chuckle. "You first."
She scoffed softly but didn't argue. And so, for the first time since it all went wrong, she spoke—not about the tragedy, but about the floor itself. Its layout. The threats. The things she had learned before everything collapsed.
By the time she finished, the steam had worked its magic, loosening the tension that had gripped her body like a vice. The ache in her limbs was still there, but dulled—manageable. A small mercy.
She stepped out of the water, the cool air pricking at her skin as she quickly reached for her clothes. The fabric felt rough against her fingers, a sharp contrast to the soothing warmth still clinging to her body, but she dressed in silence, movements steady and practiced.
Only once she was fully clothed did she speak.
"…I'll be staying around here," she finally said, fastening the last strap on her gear. Her voice was steady, but admitting it still left a bitter taste in her mouth. "I don't have money for an inn. You don't need to give me money either."
She wasn't a beggar. She had survived worse. She would survive this, too.
Felis chuckled—a low, knowing sound that made her hackles rise. He didn't argue, didn't press, just reached into his pack and pulled out a neatly packed camping set. "Fine. Then take this instead."
Narissa blinked, staring at the bundle. "I can't just—"
"You refused the money before I could offer it, so take the gear. Consider it a loan—I'll take it back when we leave." His tone was light, but firm, leaving no room for negotiation.
She hesitated, fingers curling slightly as she considered it. Her first instinct was to refuse. To reject the offer and keep pushing forward on her own, no matter how much it hurt.
Pride? Stubbornness? Or something else—something deeper.
Survival in the dungeon had taught her that kindness was often a double-edged blade. No one gave without expecting something in return. She had seen enough to know that debts, even unspoken ones, had a way of growing heavier with time.
But… this didn't feel like that.
Felis wasn't waiting for her to kneel and thank him. He had simply set the bundle within her reach and moved on, already acting like it was just another transaction—one that meant nothing to him.
She let out a quiet sigh. The fight drained away. "…Fine."
Narissa tightened her grip on the camping set as she stepped out of the hot spring, now fully clothed, though the dampness of her freshly washed hair clung stubbornly to her skin. The air outside was cooler than she remembered, a stark contrast to the lingering warmth of the water on her body. She exhaled slowly, grounding herself in the present moment.
"…Thanks," she muttered, her voice quieter than intended.
Felis stretched, rolling his shoulders with a casual yawn. "You're not the only one who's been through hell, you know. Just rest." His tone was firm yet oddly gentle, carrying an unspoken understanding that made refusal seem pointless.
Narissa hesitated. Rest? The word felt foreign—like a luxury she no longer had the right to indulge in. Every time she let her guard down, memories of the 19th Floor clawed at her, reminding her of what she'd lost. But now, standing here, wrapped in the scent of damp earth and the distant mineral tang of the hot spring, exhaustion felt… different. Less suffocating.
The forest surrounding them pulsed with quiet life. Bioluminescent flora cast their eerie glow over the clearing, bathing it in hues of soft blue and green. Overhead, thick intertwining branches formed a natural canopy, their leaves shifting lazily in a breeze she couldn't quite feel.
With practiced ease, Felis struck flint against steel, sending a cascade of sparks onto the dry tinder he'd prepared. The flame took quickly, flickering to life before growing into a steady, crackling fire. Its warmth reached her in gentle waves, pushing back the night's chill.
Narissa moved closer, unfolding the camping set and settling onto the bedroll with a kind of reluctance. The ground beneath her was soft, the blanket adequate, yet the tension in her muscles refused to fade. She lay still, eyes open, listening to the fire crackle and the distant trickle of a stream.
But then came the ghosts. The fleeting images of comrades who would never feel this warmth again. Shadows of the past that twisted in the back of her mind, restless and unrelenting.
She shifted slightly, eyes trailing toward Felis. He was leaning against a nearby tree, arms crossed, golden eyes half-lidded but undeniably alert. The firelight caught the sharp slits of his feline pupils, making them gleam in the darkness. He hadn't truly relaxed—not entirely. Even now, he kept watch.
…She wasn't alone.
The realization settled into her bones, quiet but firm. The forest whispered in soft rustles above, the stream murmured in the distance, and the fire's steady crackle filled the silence between them. The world hadn't stopped moving. And maybe—just maybe—she could let herself breathe, just for tonight.
Her fingers relaxed their grip on the blanket.
Sleep didn't come easily, but for the first time in a long while, it felt like something she could reach.
By dawn, the embers had long since faded, leaving behind only faint wisps of smoke curling into the crisp morning air. The vast forest of the 18th Floor stirred gently—branches swayed with the unseen breeze, distant calls of monsters echoing through the endless canopy above. The peaceful atmosphere felt almost deceptive, as if the horrors of the dungeon could be forgotten in the quiet moments between night and day.
Narissa shifted under her blanket, reluctant to move, though not from comfort. She barely remembered falling asleep, her body heavy with exhaustion. Yet the weight in her chest hadn't disappeared, pressing down with the remnants of grief she hadn't yet shaken off.
A rustle near the remains of the campfire caught her attention. She blinked against the daylight, sluggishly unrolling from the thin fabric of her bedroll. Felis sat nearby, still wrapped in his own blanket, his feline ears flicking as he stretched his arms behind his head. His tail swayed lazily, betraying a level of ease she couldn't begin to relate to.
Narissa rubbed at her arms, chasing away the lingering stiffness before muttering, "Morning…" Her voice came out hoarse, softened by sleep.
"Morning." Felis barely looked up as he tossed something her way. She caught it on reflex—a piece of dried meat, simple but edible. "Good. You didn't die in your sleep. That would've been a pain to explain to the Guild."
Narissa shot him a flat look, the corners of her lips twitching in a humorless smirk. "Gee, thanks for the concern."
Felis only smirked back, biting into his own ration as he leaned back onto his hands. "So… did you already think about my offer yesterday?" His golden eyes, half-lidded in the soft morning light, held a quiet curiosity.
Narissa hesitated, fingers tightening around the ration. A moment of silence stretched between them, the weight of her thoughts pressing heavier than before.
She exhaled. "...Yeah."
She chewed on the dried meat slowly, letting the taste of salt and preserved flesh ground her as she mulled over her answer. Sunlight filtered through the thick leaves above, dappling the forest floor in shifting gold and green. The morning air smelled of damp earth and fresh vegetation—too peaceful for the turmoil still lingering in her chest.
"…Yeah," she finally admitted, letting out a slow breath. "I'll return to the surface."
Felis arched a brow, waiting for more.
She tugged at the edge of her sleeve. "I need to report to my Goddess… No one even knows I survived and—" Her voice faltered, something uncertain creeping into her tone. "I don't know if I'll keep going as an adventurer or… take a break."
She hated saying it out loud. Hated admitting the possibility that she might never set foot in the dungeon again.
A knowing look passed through Felis's gaze, though he didn't voice whatever thoughts ran through his head. Instead, he stretched lazily, arms folding behind his head. "Fair enough. You don't have to decide everything now. First step—getting back alive."
Narissa nodded. She wasn't proud of it, but she knew she couldn't make the journey alone—not in her current state. Her mana reserves were drained, and she hadn't even touched a weapon since she fled the 19th Floor. Having an escort, even an irritating one, was her best bet.
Still… his words from yesterday gnawed at her.
"I'm heading down to scout the 19th Floor tomorrow."
She frowned. "…You're really going, huh?"
"Obviously." Felis grinned, stretching his arms. "Gotta get a feel for the place."
Her fingers curled around the ration, tension creeping back into her grip. Wasn't it enough that he made it this far? Why push further? "You could just leave. No one's forcing you to go there."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "It's not about that. Sooner or later, I'll be diving deeper anyway. Better to know what I'm dealing with now rather than later."
Narissa blinked, caught off guard. "…So you're not going because of me?"
Felis arched a brow, amused. "Did you think I was?"
She looked away, irritation bubbling in her chest. "Tch. Whatever. Do what you want."
"I was planning to." He smirked, then, as if sensing the concern she refused to voice, added, "Relax. I won't do anything reckless."
Narissa exhaled slowly. That's what everyone says before they get themselves killed. But she held her tongue. If he wanted to throw himself into danger, it wasn't her place to stop him.
"…Fine," she muttered. "I'll wait here. Just don't take too long."
Felis gave a lazy wave as he stood. "Try not to miss me too much."
She scoffed, turning away.
As he disappeared into the distance, Narissa stared at the dim embers of the dying fire.
"Damn fool," she muttered under her breath. The words came reflexively, but they rang hollow.
As the last wisps of smoke curled into the air, another thought crept in—one she didn't dare say aloud.
"Just come back in one piece."