While Hestia and the others eventually began to eat, Luthar resumed his studies at his terminal, as there were many things he wanted to understand.
In another location, the flicker of a tiny brazier projected lengthy, uncertain shapes over the cave wall.
They had chosen this forgotten alcove off the 18th Floor—a narrow side chamber choked with vines and long-cooled mineral flows—precisely because it was forgotten. Neither adventurers nor monsters wandered here. Only those with purpose.
Hermes leaned against the stone wall, one leg crossed over the other, rolling a golden coin across his knuckles. His usual smirk was subdued—less mocking, more contemplative.
Freya stood near the fire, silent and beautiful as moonlight on steel. Her eyes were unreadable, but not disinterested.
"I always expected I'd have to shape Bell slowly," Hermes said at last, voice hushed. "Set up hardships that would make him grow faster."
"And now?" Freya asked.
Hermes gave a faint breath of laughter. "Now there's Luthar."
Freya's gaze shifted; she didn't understand what Hermes was trying to say. Luthar was someone who was going around and interfering with other people's lives, and he was definitely not selling weapons that would make Bell's life easy.
To comprehend what Hermes was thinking, she said, "Why are we talking about him? He is not even an adventurer."
"It does not matter what he is," Hermes said quietly. "He is too intelligent, skilled, and terrifyingly well-armed. Because of him, I have to change my plans. He changes the narrative. Bell's narrative might change from kid battles unimaginable odds to boy saved by walking nightmare."
" you are overthinking," Freya said. " he has no intention of going around and saving Bell."
Hermes tapped his temple. "it doesn't matter. What we need is a team that can support Bell so when a black dragon appears, he would have reliable partners."
He removes his finger from his temple. "we need Bell to become a hero."
Freya's lips curved faintly. " you are not making any sense."
"Imagine a hero goes to a blacksmith; he asks him to forge a sword to kill a dragon," Hermes explains. "after crafting the sword, instead of handing it over to the hero, the blacksmith decides to kill the dragon by himself. imagine a world where heroes cannot become heroes because they couldn't get a good weapon."
Freya considered him a moment. "So you are just worried that a blacksmith would become a hero."
Hermes gave a sharp, amused breath. "I am not that small-minded. I just don't want him to become a blacksmith who will not give a sword to a hero and also doesn't even bother to kill the dragon.
Freya arched an eyebrow as she started to think, in some sense, what Hermes said was true. She knew Luthar was just selling some scraps, not his weapons, and he definitely didn't have a plan for any dragon, but now she was on his side, so she couldn't think about streaming against him.
"So you just want to remove him, then take away his weapon and give it to Bell."
"No," Hermes said more seriously. "He's useful. He might be the kind of support Bell needs. But i have to be careful not to accidentally kill him."
"That shouldn't be possible," Freya said.
It's possible if my plan worked, we would have a monster running around the 18th floor," Hermes replied. " with your help, we can direct that monster to Luther. Then I also want to create a situation where Bell has to save him. Which should result in him being grateful to Bell; this might solve the issue."
"Your thoughts are really dangerous," she said.
Hermes smiled slightly. "It might be dangerous, but with this trick, we can get a foundation for the Hero team."
Freya's gaze didn't waver; at one point, she thought this was a great idea. Finally, she could see Luther fighting, but in the end, she decided to refuse. "While your idea is good, I really can't participate."
"Why," Hermes asked.
She stepped forward, just slightly—enough for the firelight to catch the cold glint in her eyes. "Because I already have plans with him for thousands of years, and if I do what you said, I might not be able to stay with him."
"You are already that close to him," Hermes said with a tilt of his head. "I thought you were only interested in the pure soul."
Freya was silent for a while. Then, quietly, "my interest has changed now. I am only interested in seeing him and how long he can live. And show me how heroes are created in batches."
She turned, her silhouette dissolving into the dim edges.
Hermes remained a moment longer, staring at the embers.
Then, to no one in particular, he whispered, "That's something new."
Back in the camp, after everyone finished eating, they decided to head out for a walk—partly to scout the local area and partly just to stretch their legs and purchase some supplies. The dense, rich air of the 18th Floor never quite cleared from the lungs, but the light filtering down made it feel less like a battlefield and more like a strange, enchanted garden.
The bell looked brighter now that food had returned color to his cheeks. Welf was already fiddling with the handle of one of his knives, always an artisan even when pretending to relax. Hestia—after much insistence that this was strictly "casual walking"—finally allowed herself to join them, though not without several warnings about staying close and avoiding "any more explosive incidents."
Liliruca was the last to rise. Her wounds still ached, but something about being on her feet again, surrounded by people who weren't fighting or dying, made her smile faintly.
Only one person remained behind.
Luthar didn't even look up when the tent flap stirred with their departure. His terminal remained open in his lap, lines of data scrolling past with cold efficiency. One servo-skull hovered nearby, its sensors calibrated for ambient mana and heat distortion. His mind was far from strolls and small talk.
There were records to examine and diagrams to go over. He still had a huge gap in his knowledge that he had to address as soon as possible. His knowledge of manipulating space had significantly increased as a result of his work on the dimensional machine, but something essential was still lacking. The technology behind the dimensional gate remained elusive, its core principles incomplete in his grasp. Fully deciphering it would take time—perhaps years. In the meantime, he needed to get knowledge of advanced manufacturing.
So he could finally move beyond mere analysis and begin building with true precision, rather than assembling unstable prototypes.
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