Today marks exactly ninety days in another world
More than two months had passed since the earthquake. Orario had never been the same again.
Once a symbol of hope, a city where dreams were born, where adventurers from all over the world gathered in search of glory and fortune,it now looked more like a dark refuge for the disenchanted and the wounded.
It was as if luck itself had turned against the city.
The quake destroyed homes and structures. Then came the deeper blow: the end of thousands of livelihoods.
As many had feared, the Dungeon evolved, or rather, it is still evolving. And by the looks of it, it has yet to reveal everything it hides.
The monsters grew stronger. Absurdly and collectively stronger, as if all of them had leveled up at once.
The first twelve floors, once considered the safest, turned into a foggy, everchanging maze of bricks. The mist is constant, dense, suffocating, and with it came new horrors: variant monsters, more hostile, more intelligent, some even armed.
But it wasn't only the strength of the creatures that changed. The Dungeon itself became cruel.
Maps once reliable, the fruit of decades of expeditions, became useless. Entire floors seemed to have expanded, some tripling in size, revealing unknown zones, treacherous, filled with traps.
Now, the Dungeon doesn't just react… it hunts.
Rooms that seal without warning. Corridors that shift place. Traps in spots once safe. The feeling is unanimous among survivors: like something down there is watching. Manipulating.
And if that weren't enough, a new curse looms over those who enter.
Something unseen, constant and malicious that gnaws at both body and mind. It is not the kind of affliction cured by simple potions or a day's rest. The curses creep in slowly, striking at random, and grow heavier the deeper one descends.
The most common of them is the Curse of Greed. Subtle to the point of being almost invisible, it seeps into the adventurer's thoughts, sharpening their hunger for wealth, driving reckless impulses, and clouding judgment until reason is lost.
The only concrete way to get rid of these curses is to refrain from entering the Dungeon for a while, the worse the curse, the longer the time. ut it's like moths drawn to the light, or perhaps the effect of another curse, the adventurers can never stay away from it, the result of which...
The dead piled up.
And with them, the problems.
The flow of Dungeon resources, magic crystals, alchemical ingredients and rare items dropped drastically. Orario's economy took a brutal hit.
Few realize how much they depend on those little shining stones that fall from monsters.
But they are what sustain the city.
Orario may not use much of it, but these mana crystal shards are highly coveted by other cities, especially those without a nearby Dungeon. Tons were exported every month by the guild, which was then converted into money that rewarded adventurers every time they went to exchange their loot.
And the alchemists? They rely on the Dungeon for their reagents. The smiths? They need unique ores found only down there. Potions became scarce. Prices soared. Ordinary families began rationing resources — not for lack of stock, but because everything was redirected to those who still dared to descend.
Inequality, always present, became impossible to ignore. Veteran adventurers hoarded supplies. Civilians fought over scraps in alleys and black markets. The atmosphere of tension and despair tainted everything: the stares, the prices, even the gods themselves.
The streets, once vibrant with music, trade, and laughter, now barely echoed footsteps.
Orario was on the verge of collapse.
The Evilus must be dancing in their holes, seeing the city's situation. The best part is that they didn't even have to do anything. That is, if they're still alive, as strangely there has been almost no sign of their remnants since then.
After the first post-quake expedition, when the Families returned with reports of horrors and failure, the Guild tried to contain the chaos in the only way it knew: by closing the Dungeon.
But Orario cannot live without the Dungeon.
It is the heart of the city, the very reason for its existence.
The entire supply chain, every trade, every system revolves around it.
That's what the city was built for. Without the Dungeon, there is no city.
And the adventurers, those who face it, who depend on it and who, in a way, love it, knew this better than anyone.
They protested.
But adventurers are not ordinary citizens. They are warriors, killers, mages. Strong. Dangerous. Armed.
The Guild never had real control over them, only the illusion of order.
Tension spread through the streets like fire. Checkpoints were attacked. The Tower of Babel was surrounded. Clashes broke out. The city nearly descended into war.
The Ganesha Familia and others devoted to order managed to prevent total collapse.
But the final push came from Ouranos, the Guild's true leader.
By orders of Ouranos himself, who has become much more active since then, the fat pig who was the "leader" of the guild was kicked out like a bag of garbage and has never been seen in the city since.
Funny how no one complained about that, seems like that guy wasn't very popular in town.
And so, the Dungeon was reopened.
And just as they had pressured for its reopening, it took only two weeks for everyone to start regretting it.
Perhaps familiarity had made people complacent. Perhaps years of routine, predictable hunts, safe maps and known enemies had made many forget the true nature of that place.
The Dungeon is not a mine.
It is a monster.
And there's no need to describe the fate of those who entered unprepared.
The number of adventurers missing, dead, or cursed speaks for itself.
The flow of entry into the Dungeon dropped drastically.
But at least the economy, that silent threat that could swallow the city whole, was slightly contained.
Contained, but not resolved.
Things were no longer as they were. Orario would have to adapt to the new reality, or succumb to it.
In this new world, an unspoken rule began to circulate among adventurers, especially the weaker ones:
"Level 1 adventurers must not enter alone."
And it is in this context that we return to him.
Luki.
...
[Luki's Training Grounds]
In the center of the field, two figures clashed at a steady rhythm. The sharp sound of wood striking wood filled the air.
Clack! Clack! Clack!
Luki gripped the wooden sword with both hands. His feet were steady on the ground, his eyes fixed on his opponent's movements.
Each strike was direct, with no embellishments. It was strength and technique, something very different from a few months ago.
Lyu, on the other hand, pressed constantly, giving no room. The wooden sword in her single hand seemed to be in two places at once.
She was stronger. Faster. More precise. A clear example of what one expected from a Level 4 adventurer. Her talent was reminiscent if not then that of Ais Wallenstein.
Even so, Luki endured.
His blocks weren't perfect, but they worked. With short movements, he placed the sword between her blows. He was always knocked back, forced to use his whole body to recover stance and brace for the next attack.
His arms trembled. His wrists were red, slightly swollen. His heels dug into the earth. But he did not retreat.
It was clear who would win, but Luki was far from being a punching bag.
— Faster. — Lyu's tone was neutral.
She spun her body and struck at his side. Luki defended with his sword's guard, but the force lifted his arms, leaving him completely open.
Lyu did not hesitate. She pulled her arm back, twisted her wrist, and drove the hilt of her sword into his stomach.
— Urgh.
Before he could react, she grabbed his collar and threw him over her shoulder. Luki hit the ground hard, landing flat on his back.
— Agh…!
Lyu walked up and placed the tip of her sword against his neck.
— Dead.
— Yeah, yeah… I noticed. — he muttered with a grimace, still clutching his stomach.
Lyu's face softened. Her serious expression gave way to a small smile at the corner of her lips.
— Four minutes and fifty-five seconds. You're improving.
— Compared to being taken down in a single strike? Maybe… But I don't think I'll ever be a real swordsman.
— You're too stiff for someone who should be agile. It'll get better with time. But if it's any consolation, you're good at dirty tricks.
— Haha… thanks, I guess.
She offered her hand and helped him up.
Once on his feet, it was clear it wasn't just his technique that had changed.
Luki now stood nearly a head taller than Lyu. Months of training had shaped his body. Once slender and thin, he was now sturdier, with broader shoulders. His loose shirt no longer hid as much.
The months had made a difference.
The scrawny boy who had arrived in Orario was gone. In his place stood someone more mature and stronger in every sense.
Constant training with Lyu, day after day, along with grueling sessions of calisthenics, weights, and endurance drills, had paid off. Luki now had a solid build.
Not a brute, but it was evident every part of his body had been forged through effort. Broader shoulders, well-defined arms, a firm back, and a resilient torso.
His hair, however, had been neglected amid the intense routine. It had grown too long. Messy, with uneven strands falling over his forehead and ears. He tied it up haphazardly when training, but it was long past time for a cut.
Another obvious detail drew attention: his left arm.
A month ago, Hephaestus came to visit with a very welcome gift, a vial with a few milliliters of mermaid blood, enough to cure any minor wound.
Since his arm was not amputated, a larger dose was not necessary. After drinking it, in a few seconds all the problems were gone.
The arm, once practically useless, now moved firmly. The weight, the constant weakness, was gone. Though he could still feel a "phantom pain" from the memory of the wound.
There was also a curious detail Luki couldn't ignore: after relying exclusively on his right side for so long during training, he had ended up strengthening it more. Now, his right arm looked slightly bigger than his left.
Coincidence?
— So… what do you think? Can I go back now? — he asked, rolling his shoulders to show he was fine.
Lyu furrowed her brow slightly but kept her usual impassive expression. It was impossible to know what she was really thinking — as always.
— If it were back when we first met, I would've let you go long ago — she replied. — But today things are different. It's dangerous.
— Oh, come on… please! I did well in training, and my new equipment will be ready tomorrow!
— That's exactly why I'll let you go.
— Eh? Really?! Thanks, Ly—
— But!!!!!!!!! — she cut him off, raising her arm to stop him from approaching.
— You're only allowed to explore the first floor. Don't stray from the busy areas. Don't fight groups. Prioritize solitary monsters and, whenever possible, strike from behind first. If the curse effects worsen, return to the surface immediately. And one more—
— Yeah, yeah, I got it! I'll be careful, mom.
— You'd better. — she replied with narrowed eyes, unfazed by the jab.
— Now let's go, your goddess must be worried about you.
— Aeh! — Luki cheered softly, happy to leave training earlier.