The forest was dark as thick canopy blocked the sunlight. Only few ray of light managed to sneak through the gap left behind by nature. The rustling of leaves was loud upfront before a gust of winds hit them, breezed through them and carried on, rustled the leaves behind. The tree grew sparsely, making the entire area eerie. The only other accompanying sounds were the branches or leaves crunched below the stepping feet for the party of three.

  Such a sight would drive anxiety and paranoia in people high if they weren’t accustomed to the environment. However, this forest was the same old Tu’ei Forest for the party of three.

  Arlene led Wattyson and Anire down the winding path of embedded leaves and broken sticks—a path that many before them had used before and would continue to do so. It was the same path Arlene and Wattyson had taken to the dungeon before.

  For the entirety of the trip there, Arlene was confident and anxious. She was confident for the opportunity to dive a dungeon like the old days for the joy of it, but this dive was anything but ordinary. Recent events had subverted her enthusiasm. There was something happening deep inside the dungeon that caused its abnormalities. Not to mention, the ongoing rumors and issues presiding over at the Far Tundra.

  The day of traveling to fulfil the prophecy was factually over, but was it really for her? It felt the more she tried to walk away from the finished ending, the more its leftovers flared up to grab her attention. Would the day she had to stop worrying about them?

  That part of her couldn’t, she wouldn’t deny it. Every time troubles came, she was the first to move out. The very thought that others might be in trouble would irk her in guilt if she never did.

  In the back of her mind, she could hear someone calling out to her. Arlene. Arlene. It kept repeating while she was lost in thought.

  “Arlene!”

  The voice grew louder, snapping her attention. “Y-Yes?”

  Her skirt was tugged downward, dragging to wake up her when earlier calls weren’t heard.

  She turned quickly to the voice. Her eyes widened with cheeks in slightly pink. “What is it?” She let out in higher pitch than she intended.

  The neko girl tilted her head. She grinned wide to finally got Arlene’s attention. “Ah. Finally waken up~? Did you drink decafs accidentally rather than the black coffee you brew?”

  Anire’s voice carried out a slight mischief in her usual singsong tone. Her hand continued to tug down the skirt.

  “I was wondering,” she continued. “We are going to the dungeon, right? Did you register the quest at the adventurer’s guild?” She eyed the leather bag worn by Arlene as if it contained the very quest paper in it.

  “Quest?” Arlene replied before immediately pausing. Quest. Adventurers were required to do so before entering a dungeon. She had done so before for this particular dungeon—to go and investigate what was happening on Floor Forty. She, Watty and the three pick-a-long members went in and dealt with it. They had done it. They had… done it.

  “Oh.” She quickly let out. That quest was already completed. She had reported back to Veia at the guild yesterday. If she wanted to enter again, she needed a new one.

  A nervous chuckle escaped her. She brushed the back of her head. “Well… about that,” she said sheepishly. “We could…” She trailed before Anire cut her off.

  “I didn’t know the Chosen One could be such a clumsy person~.” Anire clapped weakly, and swayed her head side-to-side. “Shall we head back to Toulasi then?”

  That would be the correct course of action. What was she going to do? Pull rank? That would be against her work ethic. If this was her old party, the decision would be easy. ‘Yes. Let us head back. At least we had a good walk.’ Except this wasn’t her old party, this was a party of a recluse person, an obsessive scientist, and herself.

  She eyed to Wattyson at the rear. For a person who pretended to walk but was actually floating, he had some distances between himself and them. He was also hunched forward suggesting he was already tired of doing so to the Hub.

  There was another option. She was attuned to the mana winds of Toulasi. She could just teleport herself to quickly register her party for the dungeon’s entrance again. That would be ideal, then she casted her glance to Anire.

  Leaving her alone with Wattyson was like handing her free food. Anire herself promised she wouldn’t lay a hand on Wattyson—to test or any other experiments she could conduct, but Arlene couldn’t believe her fully. She trusted Anire, but she didn’t trust her enough to not poke the powder keg.

  An idea was plotted up. She nudged Anire. “Don’t worry.” She said with a cheery smile, and the same confidence she always conducted herself in. “I’ll figure something out once we’re there.” She gave a thumb up.

  Anire let out a quiet chuckle. “Alright.” She crossed her arms behind her back. “If you say so~.” She whistled along while walking by Arlene’s side. Her eyes forward with her pupil lines occasionally connected to observe mana. There was no reason for this while travelling, but Arlene summarized this could be the behavior of someone who’s bored and needed something to fiddle about.

  Arlene glanced to Wattyson one final time. He was there generally, but far enough to not hear the current registration issue. This Arlene was banking on. She would leave them in the Hub somewhere with other eyes, so she could teleport to register quickly.

  The walk to the Hub proceeded in silence between the three.

  For the Hub, it had been two days since Floor Forty’s monster was cleared—since the ‘Moonless Kobold’ was vanquished by the Chosen One and her party. The worry that more casualties would pile up in the medical tents be it physical severe injuries or delirium-induced faded into that of the past—past that many were still facing its consequences.

  The people there that were still able had shifted to worry to something anew. A dungeon was finally opened up with no anomaly. There was loot to farm, and money to be made. The savvy adventurers however worried. It was not the Floor Forty’s butcher that was the anomaly; the entire dungeon was—the structure that was stuck in perpetual birth and limbo transition.

  Such a problem wouldn’t be an issue. The Chosen One left after she dealt with the Moonless, and she didn’t choose to stay to pursue the dungeon further. It meant this dungeon could be cleared and studied ordinarily.

  Except two days later, the Chosen One returned.

  Arlene wasn’t stopped by the two sentries at the gate this time. She and her party could enter without a word. She saw the state of the Hub. It was the same structural wise, but the people weren’t in a frenzy spiral—rushing to fulfill orders in an urgent manner. It was tame. People were chatting up along the tents, or gathering up to party or to hit the mess tent. There was even a makeshift forge set up near the adventurer’s guild area. Smokes puffing up in rhythm with the blacksmith’s hammer fell onto a metal slag.

  She glanced to the two and beckoned them to follow her. “I know a good spot to rest for a bit.” She said, already eyeing the big yellow tent. “We can rest there while I gather two more people for the five-member party restriction.”

  Anire nodded while Wattyson remained stoic. Arlene could see however he was lowered then before. His eyes were half-opened.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Arlene went to him, nudging him with a jab to his shoulder. “What? Does floating tires you that much?” She quickly nudged a foot to his knee, to see if they were bent or not. They were.

  “Huh.” She let out. “You are actually grounded?”

  Wattyson turned to her slowly. He just stared at her. “I am.” He replied in the usual lethargic and monotone voice. “Have you tried floating? It is tiring to maintain such a state.”

  “Really?” Anire joined in. “Wouldn’t you just be in the air and that’s it?” She raised her hand before motioning it forward horizontally. “Like that of a spirit or elemental constructs?”

  He shook his head. “No. That would imply I have a set restriction on how high I can go.”

  Arlene blinked. “You don’t?” She thought he would for sure had one, given how strange he was.

  “I don’t. When I do so, I have to constantly push myself back down. I don’t have a way to just go ‘Yes, that much is fine.’”

  Anire grinned as she whipped her notepad and pencil in the rune-tech bag, quickly noted it down. “Interesting~. So unlike the monsters or creatures’ way of floating, you don’t operate like that? There has been studies to find if they were incapable of doing higher than their usual standard. The answers mostly in favored of them having a strict base of how high one would be.”

  She raised her notepad above her. “For example, a hydro elemental could always be this high while floating, but any higher it can fly up before slowly falling back down. The School of Magic believed this is a hard rule on them.”

  Arlene chimed in. “Or you know… the nature way of using the magic ‘Float’.”

  Anire quickly looked to her before laughing. “Yes! That too! It is good you are here to tell us there are actual magic for such things. Can you do the same?’

  Arlene nodded before motioning a circle in front with her hand. She muttered out float, then immediately though gradually she began to rise. Her feet weren’t on the ground any longer and she was up half her height.

  She placed her hands on her hip. “I don’t feel tired or how you said you have to constantly pull yourself down.”

  She casted Float again to ground herself.

  Wattyson narrowed his eyes at them before sighing. “I can’t do it because I don’t know ‘Float’. I just know I don’t want to walk on the soils anymore, up I go. Wait I don’t want to be too high up or I will attract attention so down I go, but down is the soil. It’s a constant battle for me to juggle up and down.”

  He stumped his staff. “Also, aren’t you supposed to be leading us to wherever it is you have in mind? I’m dying to sit down.”

  The reminder caused Arlene to giggle to herself. “Alright, alright. Come on,” she spun around. “follow me.”

  Arlene brushed against the tent’s flap, entering and expecting to find someone familiar, and she did. Naciv was there still, hunched and sat near piles of books and scrolls. She glanced to the two behind her to come in while she darted off to the familiar vampire.

  “I’m going to die of bureaucracy at this rate,” muttered the vampire. “Why are there so many wrong intel about the dungeon? I thought I was going to breeze through this.” He sighed, but of relief. “At least, Anathema isn’t here to breathe down on my neck.”

  “Well,” Arlene stopped behind him. “Sorry about that.” She quickly padded him on the shoulder before he could even turn around.

  “Hey, we’re back. Don’t worry!” She added quickly as he slowly turned around. “Watty isn’t here… ish. He’s with another person near the entrance. You’re fine. He didn’t hear it.”

  He turned finally to Arlene, but his eyes darted to the man in white robe near an unfamiliar one-ear neko in sweater with burned patches.

  “You’re going to get me killed one day.” He muttered out to Arlene in trembling voice. “What if he heard that?!”

  She scoffed. “Relax. There’s no way he’s going to hear it, and he’s very tired right now.” She motioned to Wattyson. “See? Completely hunched and barely awake. Besides,” she shrugged, “it’s not like he can hear you. He’s only human.”

  “There’s nothing human about that person.” He quickly shot back in a lower tone before his shoulder slumped down. “So miss Chosen One, are you here for update on the dungeon? It’s not cleared yet.”

  “Oh?” Her eyebrow raised. “That’s good, because I want to dive again.”

  “I see. Wait what?”

  “The dungeon itself is still a mystery, and I’m quite a chaser for that.”

  Naciv’s mouth hung open to retort, but nothing came out. He turned back to his work. “Well, good luck with that. I am done diving that dungeon for the foreseeable future.”

  Arlene put a calming grip on his shoulder. “Yes.” She said with a smirking tone. “That foreseeable future is now. I need you to join me again.”

  He didn’t reply right away. The arm her hand was on went rigid. “What?! I don’t want to! I just came out of it two days ago!” With his other arm, he quickly swung atop of the papers in front of him. “I still have works!”

  “Work that can be put on hold while we’re doing the fun thing!” She flexed her arms. “Dungeon Diving! Didn’t you say you were tired of that work?” She eyed vaguely past him.

  “I… did, but—“

  “Well it’s either you can say no and I’ll let Watty be the one to invite you, or you can say yes?”

  “That’s a threat!”

  “It’s not a threat! Just think of it like a friendly invitation.”

  “A friendly threat!”

  “Naciv, how’s the work going?” Another voice joined in, but it was soft with the tone of someone who was sleep deprived.

  “It’s going well… for now.” Naciv replied back. “It’s rare to see you awake in the daytime, Hecruz.”

  Arlene turned to her left to find Hecruz walking toward them. He had a researcher coat that was drenched in coffee stains. In his right arm, he was hugging folders filled with papers and a single wooden stick.

  “Alright, keep at it. I had to wake up early because there’s a meeting,” Hecruz continued on before trailing off. “…The Chosen One? The CHOSEN ONE?!” His eyes looked like it was about to pop out.

  “Y-Yes? Hi?” Arlene did a little wave.

  “Ah! The Fortune has finally befallen upon your fervent servant. I can finally escape this position and be promoted by helping the Chosen One.” He quickly bowed down a little, doing a rigid flourishing. “Please, how may I serve you?”

  A guild official here? Arlene could already solve the babysitting problem. She could just register here with Hecruz, but… she would also like Naciv to join. It was someone familiar to her.

  “Yes of course,” She bowed back more gracefully. “I would like to register my party for the dungeon? I understand right now it’s only me and the two others,” she jerked a thumb to them. “Is it possible to register now before I gather the two other members?”

  Hecruz stood straight as he set his folders aside—by dropping them onto the ground. The landing caused winds to flutter the papers Naciv so meticulously set up.

  “Hmmm…” He stroked his own chin. “You have not heard?”

  Arlene tilted her head. Was there anything news? “About what?”

  “The Dungeon is no longer A+ Rank. You don’t need a party of five to enter no more.”

  The change was that fast? Arlene could hardly believe it. She glanced to Naciv who had his mouth hung open, and his eyes were darting between the papers and Hecruz. There weren’t much to read here.

  She turned her attention to Hecruz instead. The way he stood and his expression when he said it. The corner of his lip twitching, and so too were the corners of his eyes. Was he lying? Is he trying to get credit for registering the Chosen One’s party into the dungeon? That barely gave credits to warrant a promotion though.

  “When was this change made?” She asked, crossing her arms.

  “The day before this sun come back up!” He pointed up.

  “Is it?”

  “It… is?”

  He was starting to sound unsure of himself.

  A small grin formed on her. “Alright, if you say so. Do you need my ID card and my members’?”

  “No need!” He waved both his hands. “I am the supervisor here, I already know you and your party members enough to ensure your credibility and your chosen tendency to survive! Please! Have a wonderful experience!”

  This was going against procedure. Arlene knew this. If she agreed, then it would be against her work ethics, but… part of her reasoned it was not her fault. This was authorized by an official, and not her own doing. This was a safe territory.

  She wondered if she was stepping more into her own type of person with this.

  “Alright,” she said bowing once more. “Thank you, Hecruz. I’ll start when my party is rested.”

  Hecruz smiled with his eyes beaming more than the few sunlight penetrating the canopy. “Of course!” He rubbed his hands together. “If I can be of service to the Chosen One, I do not require thanks… but be sure to credit me when you cleared the dungeon! That I, Hecruz, authorized your registration!”

  He quickly turned around and walked or rather jogged away toward the exit flaps.

  “Hecruz!” Naciv called out. “You forgot your folder!” He was already gone. “Tch. Messed up my neat paper towers too.”

  Arlene chuckled at the sight of those papers all over the floor and his comment. “Well,” she tapped his shoulders twice, “good luck on your work. You managed to dodge dungeon diving.”

  As she turned to return to the other two, Naciv quickly stopped her. “Wait… if you needed two more people, who was the other one?”

  “Oh?” Arlene smirked. “Curious?”

  “…Yes. Who wouldn’t?”

  “Well, Xylia.”

  “Xylia?”

  “Yes. Rinea is still likely injured no? It would be cruel of me to put her back or even ask of her to join.”

  He gazed downward. His finger pinching himself near the forearm. “Have you talk to Rinea… like before you left the Hub?”

  “…Not yet. I was, but she was resting in medical bay. I didn’t want to intrude.”

  “You should… She is okay enough to walk around, but I think she mostly reside herself in her tent. When it is convenience for you, can you do so?”

  The request softened Arlene’s expression. “Of course.” Her smirk returned. “Quite strange isn’t it? You were up her back the entire time, and now you’re a worrywart about her.”

  Naciv scoffed, but his ears were bright red. “Well… hard not to with everything she went through. It didn’t help that I was hard on her.”

  Arlene turned around fully now to walk away. “Don’t worry. I’ll go see her when my dive is done. You just sit there and do your work.” She went away, waving back at him.