"Blue Papilio?!"
Jeanne blinked, her pale face showing a flicker of confusion before she quickly pulled a small, worn handbook from her pouch and started flipping through it.
Within seconds, she found the entry she was looking for under the Rare Species section.
[Name]: Blue Papilio
Type: Rare Monster
Habitat: Floors 7
Drop Item: Blue Papilio Wing (a high-grade alchemy Material used in restorative potions)
Description: A delicate creature with four translucent azure wings that scatter glowing powder when it flies. Its beauty can make one forget it's a monster at all.
Jeanne snapped the book shut and looked up at the creature fluttering gracefully beneath the dim ceiling light. Her blue eyes sparkled.
"We're really lucky, Lucas. The guide says Blue Papilio drops are extremely valuable."
Lucas's grin stretched ear to ear, eyes practically replaced with shimmering Valis symbols.
"Then what are we waiting for? We're taking it down!"
"Be careful," Jeanne warned. "If the Drop Item's damaged, the price drops fast."
"Ugh, right… that means no Magic," Lucas muttered, reluctantly slinging his staff back onto his pack. He pulled out a shortbow instead, nocked an arrow from her quiver, and drew it with a smooth, practiced motion.
He'd clearly spent plenty of time honing his archery skills — when he couldn't rely on Magic, the bow had been one of his few ways to stay alive.
Aim.
The shortbow creaked, string drawn taut to a full arc.
With a sharp thwip!, the arrow sliced through the air and hit its mark dead center. The Blue Papilio fell, its luminous wings fluttering to the ground — their prize secured.
"Whew. Still got it," Lucas said, exhaling in relief.
Flying monsters were always a pain for adventurers without long-range attacks. Because of weight limits, most didn't bother bringing slings or throwing weapons unless they had a dedicated supporter or a careful team setup. True archers or mages were considered premium assets — rare even among Familias.
And encountering a rare species like this? The odds were worse than winning the lottery. No one prepares for that.
Lucas crouched down, carefully cutting the precious Blue Papilio Wings free and tucking them into the loot bag like he was handling gold bars.
"Damn," he said with a satisfied smirk. "These'll fetch a nice price. Naaza from the Blue Pharmacy, or Airmid at the Dian Cecht Pharmacy, they'll pay top Valis for wings like these. Or maybe Hedin from the Freyja Familia—those muscleheads go through potions like water, and Freya herself isn't exactly short on cash."
He chuckled, clearly in love with the sound of money. "Heh, rare as hell and always in demand. For alchemy Familias, you can never have enough. Stuff like this sells itself."
From what Lucas knew, the Guild Headquarters regularly posted standing commissions for materials like this — the reward payouts were juicy, especially now during the city's tense, chaotic period when battles and injuries were common. Healing resources were in short supply, and the bulletin boards were always plastered with buy orders from potion-makers.
"Two hundred thousand Valis, easy money."
Jeanne could only stare as Lucas beamed like he'd just fallen into a gold mine.
"…What?" he asked, noticing her awkward expression.
Then it clicked — the so-called "village girl" beside him had actually been a noble farm owner's daughter before becoming an adventurer. He sighed.
"My dear Lady Jeanne," he said with mock reverence, "you who have never tasted true poverty, cannot comprehend the joy of cold, hard cash. That crisp clink of coins… it's art."
Her step faltered, expression torn between amusement and disbelief.
"My apologies," she murmured dryly, "for my lack of financial enlightenment."
Lucas groaned internally. Ah yes, classic rich girl energy.
The pair continued exploring the eighth floor's winding corridors, comparing their surroundings with the Guild's public maps and updating their own notes as they went.
Whenever they found discrepancies — a collapsed tunnel, an uncharted passage — Lucas carefully annotated them in his notebook. For adventurers, that was standard work; the Guild paid handsomely for new or corrected Dungeon intel. The place was alive, constantly shifting. Finding those changes meant profit.
"Scorch!"
A fireball exploded from Lucas's fingertips, roasting a newly spawned Needle Rabbit before it could even open its eyes.
He whistled. "Nice, a Needle Rabbit's Tusk. That'll boost armor defense if woven in — worth about fifty thousand Valis on the market."
With swift precision, he dismantled the carcass and stowed the ,aterial away. Huh. Maybe Jeanne really is my lucky charm. My drop rate's been insane today.
Hours passed. Their map filled out steadily. The monsters kept coming, but the rare finds slowed down — no more Blue Papilio, barely any Drop Items. Reality had caught up with Lucas's earlier good mood.
The Dungeon giveth, and the Dungeon taketh away.
By midday, they'd completed most of their eighth-floor exploration. The tunnels were wider here, the fights more chaotic. Monsters spawned in larger packs, and lone enemies were rare — a dangerous shift that both of them could feel.
Lucas meticulously logged it all in his journal. Data like this was gold for the Familia's growth.
On one narrow off-route path, Jeanne's stomach suddenly growled loud enough to echo. She froze, mortified, and sneaked a glance backward.
Lucas checked his old pocket watch and grinned. "Yeah, figures. Perfect timing. Let's find a safe spot and break for lunch."
He said it so casually that Jeanne's blush only deepened. "I—I wasn't hungry!"
"Of course not," Lucas said, utterly straight-faced. "A refined lady like you? Never."
A few minutes later, they'd cleared a small nook in the cavern. Lucas hammered a nail into the wall to stash their packs and weapons, then set up a cooking station.
He stacked stones and dry branches, muttered Scorch, and a small flame came alive. A travel pot went over it, water sloshing in as it began to heat.
While it simmered, he pulled out a cutting board and knife, prepping the ingredients with the ease of habit — diced vegetables, dried meat, and a pinch of herbs. Soon, a rich, creamy aroma filled the air.
Steam curled up from the pot.
"Creamy corn chowder," Lucas announced proudly.
They paired it with rolled potato wraps and a side of crisp pickled greens. Simple, but warm.
The quiet crackle of the campfire echoed through the cavern.
Lucas took a long sip from his wooden bowl, letting out a blissful sigh. "Ahh… nothing beats a hot meal in the Dungeon."
Jeanne tried a cautious sip of her own, eyes widening. "It's delicious! Creamy corn chowder? I love this!"
Lucas couldn't hide his smirk. "Picked up the recipe while working part-time. Not quite on the proper chef's level, but… decent enough for field cooking."
They devoured the meal quickly — hours of fighting had burned through their energy. Soon, the pot was empty.
Jeanne leaned against the wall, patting her stomach. "You really came prepared, didn't you?"
Watching Lucas carefully clean his gear and sort the spice jars, she tilted her head. "Why bother making hot food down here, though? Isn't it a hassle?"
He blinked at her like she'd asked why water was wet. "Because food's supposed to be hot. Cold rations are for emergencies. Eat them too long, and you'll lose your soul."
"…You're weird," Jeanne said flatly, though her tone was fond.
As they rested, Jeanne sharpened her spearhead with rhythmic strokes on a whetstone, keeping the weapon pristine.
Meanwhile, Lucas handled logistics — cleaning up, organizing the loot bag, checking potion supplies — the kind of backline work no one thanked you for, but everyone needed.
Once everything was squared away, he doused the fire, folded the map, and stretched.
"Alright," he said, tapping his quill against a freshly drawn route. "We've covered almost the whole eighth floor. We can finish the corners later. For now—" he traced the path with his finger "—this tunnel leads back to the main route. From there, we'll head straight to the ninth floor."
The flame of the campfire faded behind them as the two adventurers stepped deeper into the Dungeon.