The silence between Aquaflora and me stretched on as Veilleuse-19 carried us through the skies. The previous discussion had soured her mood, leaving the flight heavy with unspoken tension. For fifteen minutes, the wyvern's wings carved through the cold mountain air until, finally, the valley holding her home came into view.

As Veilleuse-19 descended, its wings stirred the mountain winds, and the lush valley below unfurled like a dream. Nestled at its heart stood Aquaflora's stone cottage, a quaint structure surrounded by vibrant wildflowers and framed by distant, majestic peaks. When we landed, Aquaflora immediately jumped off Veilleuse-19 back and dashed ahead, her joy so palpable it seemed her feet barely touched the grass.

She paused briefly at the door, her hand hovering over the wooden frame as though reassuring herself that this moment was real. Meanwhile, I lingered by the wyvern, taking in the scenery. The valley sprawled out before me, a patchwork of greenery and colorful blossoms swaying gently in the breeze. The mountains beyond formed a timeless backdrop, their silhouettes stirring a nostalgic ache within me. Though this was nothing like the home I once knew, it brought to mind the weathered warmth of a place I had long since left behind.

My gaze returned to the cottage. Approaching, one thing was clear. Nature had begun to reclaim it: vines climbed its stone walls in delicate tendrils, and marigolds crept toward the door as if eager to welcome her back. Before I could dwell further, Aquaflora’s cheerful voice rang out from inside.

"Everything is as I left it! Do you want tea?"

Her smile was infectious, and I found myself nodding. "Tea? I wouldn’t mind that."

----------------------------------------

We sat outside the cottage, cups of what she called "tea"—though it tasted more like an unusual infusion—warming our hands. Aquaflora perched by the door, basking in the serenity of her surroundings, while I leaned against a post, letting the stillness sink in.

"Nice cottage you’ve got here," I said, breaking the silence.

She shot me a sharp look, as if accusing me of teasing. "I can see it coming, you know."

"See what coming?"

"You’re going to mock me again."

I chuckled, holding up a hand in mock surrender. "Absolutely not. I was being honest. I swear it."

"Mmph," she muttered, clearly unconvinced.

"I mean it," I insisted. "It’s a really nice cottage. It reminded me of a place I used to call home."

"Home?" Her interest piqued, and she leaned forward slightly.

"Yes," I said, the word carrying the weight of old memories. "Years ago, far from here. My family and I lived in a small home—well, slightly larger than this, but far older and more weathered."

I sighed, letting the nostalgia wash over me.

Aquaflora frowned, catching onto something in my tone. "With your family? Weren’t you from a noble house that got exiled?"

I nodded. "I was. I spent my childhood in a grand castle in the middle of nowhere."

But there’s a part of my story only a few people know—those closest to me—namely my fellow Dungeon Masters.

Her eyes softened as she nodded in understanding. I took a long sip of the tea before changing the subject.

"You seem to know a fair bit about me. When did you first hear about me?" I asked.

"The first time was when you introduced yourself as Arianna to Charlie and me," she replied.

"Ah, back when I was still a nobody," I mused. "I probably didn’t leave much of an impression."

"Far from it!" she exclaimed, almost barking the words. "You and the man you were with—Vittorio—made Charle very anxious. He could tell Vittorio was a high-ranking member of the faith, and you... well, he said there was something..."

"Something?"

"Foul and malevolent about you."

I laughed, recalling the incident. "Oh, right. I did hex him to stop his appraisal attempt. That’s mean of him to say, though."

"I thought so too, at least until I heard more about you."

"When was that?"

"Years later," she said. "You’d made a name for yourself by then—known even in elven lands as the first adventurer to completely exterminate a dungeon."

I smiled faintly.

Of all my titles, that one felt the most significant, even though it had been overshadowed by others. I owed so much to that feat.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Before me, adventurers, devout adherents of the faith, and mercenaries alike had eradicated spawns, slain guardians, and conquered dungeons. Yet their victories amounted to little more than the inevitable respawning of the said cleared dungeon. In other words, no one had found a way to truly eradicate one. But I changed that.

Aquaflora looked at me with a mix of curiosity and admiration. "Mind telling me how you did it?"

I chuckled at her boldness. "It’ll take more than pretty eyes to convince me to divulge that secret."

The truth was, my success had granted me an almost untouchable status. As the only one capable of permanently dealing with dungeons, neither the Seraphims nor the Emperor could afford to treat me as they naturally would, given the long list of offenses tied to my name. They needed me alive to handle what they themselves could not. It was a precarious freedom, as it came with the burden of the constant surveillance of both the Faith and the Emperor, but I made sure to use that freedom to my advantage. One way I ensured that I would forever be able to use it to my advantage was to never reveal my method. To do so would strip me of the very leverage that kept me alive.

"Ehh," she whined, disappointed.

I smirked. "What would you even do with that knowledge? No offense, but you don’t seem like the dungeon-delving type."

"Why?" she asked, her voice indignant.

I paused for a moment, trying to choose my words carefully. "You’re too much of a gentle soul. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean that derisively. I think it’s a good quality to be gentle. Sometimes I wish I were as gentle, but unfortunately, that would be incompatible with my raison d’être."

"Your raison d’être?" Aquaflora asked. "What’s that?"

"My goals, of sorts."

"And what are those, if you don’t mind me asking?"

I smiled at her, tilting my head slightly. "What do you think it is?"

She pondered for a moment before answering, "I’m tempted to say you’re pursuing strength. Becoming the strongest, perhaps."

"And I’d say you’re partly right," I replied, amused. "Pursuing strength is one of my objectives, but it’s just a means to an end. My goal isn’t to become the strongest. I think I’d be fine not being the strongest. I could live with that."

I paused, gathering my thoughts before continuing. "I just need to be strong enough to help those dear to me—to be useful, reliable, and supportive. Whether it’s helping them lay their path to their goals or bringing justice when they need it, that’s what matters to me."

I didn’t elaborate further. It wasn’t like I could explain the raison d’être of Dungeon Master 08. So, for Aquaflora, I was being honest—or as honest as I, Arianna, could be. "I’m kind of selfless, am I not?"

"Not when you point it out like that."

I laughed softly. "Hehe... I suppose you’re right."

Aquaflora remained silent for a moment, her expression contemplative. "By people dear to you, you’re referring to Go—Lee, Bortz, Licht, and the girl, right?"

I nodded. "There are several more of them scattered across the world," I explained, then glanced at her. "There’s also one I’m staring at."

"Who? Me?" Aquaflora asked, pointing at herself skeptically.

"Do you see me looking at someone else?"

She looked confused for a moment before the realization hit her. Her face flushed red as she buried it in her lap. "You’re teasing me again, aren’t you?"

"Teasing you? How am I teasing you with that?" I frowned. "You’re the one who always reacts weirdly to my genuine shows of camaraderie."

Peeking at me, she seemed unsure what to say so I added with a sigh, "Here I was thinking that with the time we’ve spent together, we’d developed a bond. To think I’m not even taken seriously when I make my declarations."

"No!" she barked before adding, embarrassed, "I was... You’re..."

"I am?"

"You’re dear to me too, if that’s what you want to hear."

"It is, but I’m not satisfied with the way it was voiced," I said, standing and walking in front of her. I extended a hand, which she stared at in confusion.

"What do you want me to do with that?" she asked.

"I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, but I’m a very tactile person."

"So?"

"I’d like you to show me your appreciation by taking my hand. Simple task, isn’t it?"

She looked hesitant but eventually complied, standing and taking my hand. The moment her eyes met mine, she tried to pull away, but I held on firmly.

"What? What are you doing? That should be enough now, right?" she protested. "Let me go."

Ignoring her protests, I asked softly, "Now do you trust me?"

"I do! Now could you please let go of me?"

"Alright, as long as you understand," I said, letting go of her hand as I noticed a gentle drizzle beginning to fall from the gray sky. Watching the raindrops, I suggested, "How about we spend the night here?"

Moments passed in silence, the sound of the rain filling the space between us. Finally, Aquaflora's voice cut through, but instead of answering my question, she responded with one of her own. "We’re friends, right?"

"Unless you decide otherwise, yes," I replied matter-of-factly.

"You said you’d do anything to help your friends, right?"

Not exactly what I said, but close enough, I thought as I nodded.

"Then would you help me with something?" she asked, her tone serious but uncertain.

"Tell me about the ‘something’ first."

She took a deep breath, steeling herself. "It’s about the Argyrian family."

"Oh? What about them?"

"I still think your plan to have Lee supplant the Argyrian patriarch is a bad idea. He’d make a terrible patriarch."

"Hm," I nodded, acknowledging the truth of her words. "So, what of it?"

"What you’re after is the Argyrian patriarch’s ancestral tree to use against Cleon the One and Only. Instead of having Lee wield that ancestral tree and rule the Argyrian family, let me do it for you."

Her resolve seemed to falter as she made her request, but I asked before her courage failed entirely, "Why would I give it to you instead of Goblin, who you and I know would do his best to serve me?"

She hesitated, considering her words before answering. “I can’t convince you that I’d be better than him. The only thing I’m confident I’d do better is lead the Argyrian family. But, as you said, that’s irrelevant to you.”

I nodded, confirming her assessment.

“What I can say is that I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure Lee doesn’t become the Argyrian patriarch—I know he’d be terrible at it. I’ll do anything to prove I’m more useful than him,” she said, her waning conviction rekindling.

I studied her in silence for a moment, then allowed a faint smile to surface. “Anything, you said?”