The pale, cool twilight was slowly giving way to dawn. Orario was just beginning to wake up. Somewhere in the distance, above the tiled roofs of the sleeping city, the first birds began to sing, welcoming the timid rays of the rising sun. The streets were absolutely deserted, wrapped in a crystal-clear morning silence.
Dim half-light reigned in the basement of the ruined church.
Rain slowly opened his eyes. He was lying on an old, sagging sofa, covered with a thin blanket. The young man didn't get up immediately. Still a bit sleepy, enjoying the silence, he sat up, leaving the blanket on his lap, and shifted his gaze to the opposite side of the room.
On the only proper bed, sniffling peacefully, slept his Goddess. Hestia, whose habit of tossing and turning in her sleep was already well known to Rain, was lying surprisingly still this time. The reason lay in the fact that she was tightly pressing a small figure to her generous chest with both hands. Liliruca was sleeping with her face buried in the Goddess's collarbones. On the face of the Pallum girl, usually distorted by anxiety, an absolute, defenseless peace had now settled.
The corners of Rain's lips twitched almost imperceptibly into an endearing half-smile. After admiring this tranquil scene for another minute, he silently threw off the blanket. The old master moved with the grace of a ghost. Carefully gathering his clothes, he tiptoed across the room and, without making a single sound, left the basement, closing the creaky door behind him with jeweler-like precision.
The morning air in the churchyard was fresh and autumnally crisp. Dewdrops glistened on the overgrown grass.
Rain stood in the very center of the lawn. He pulled his shirt off over his head, remaining bare-chested, and tossed it onto a surviving stone bench. The muscles on his back and shoulders rolled beneath his skin—lean, defined, devoid of excess mass, but forged by years of grueling training. The youth took a deep, measured breath, filling his lungs with oxygen. The cold air cleared his mind, finally sweeping away the remnants of sleep.
He closed his eyes. His breathing slowed, his pulse leveled out. Rain began to plunge into the halls of his own mind, cutting off the birdsong, the rustle of the wind, and everything else. He was building an image in front of him. In detail, meticulously, reconstructing every little thing piece by piece from his memory.
In the next second, Rain snapped his eyes open.
Right in front of him, blocking out the morning sky with its massive bulk, stood a minotaur.
Its crimson-red hide bulged with hypertrophied muscles. Bloodshot eyes glared at the human with a dull, primal fury. Horns as sharp as curved blades crowned the bovine head. The monster was recreated by his memory so perfectly that Rain physically felt the threat radiating from it.
This was his personal mental training. Shadowboxing taken to the absolute limit. The essence lay in one thing: to hold out against a monster with vastly superior stats for as long as possible, using exclusively his own body, without weapons or magic. There was no room for error. Rain understood perfectly well: in reality, any missed strike from this behemoth would, at the very least, shatter his bones.
The minotaur roared—silently to the outside world, but deafeningly loud in Rain's consciousness—and charged forward.
The ground beneath the youth's feet did not tremble, though his brain stubbornly signaled a mini-earthquake from the heavy hooves. Rain smoothly shifted his center of gravity. The distance between them vanished in a fraction of a second. The monster threw its right arm in a devastating, sweeping hook, aiming for the head.
Rain didn't jump back or break the distance. A step forward and to the left—he slipped into the close-quarters zone, right under the beast's giant armpit. The illusory fist whistled a millimeter from his ear, washing his face with a nonexistent gust of air.
Finding himself at its side, Rain instantly launched a counterattack. A twist of his torso, a transfer of weight from the back leg to the front—and his fist slammed into the minotaur's floating ribs. The strike was delivered with flawless precision, channeling the entire mass of his body into the tiny surface area of his knuckles. But Rain knew it was useless. His mind immediately provided feedback: it felt as if he had punched a solid stone wall stretched with thick leather.
Without lingering for a single moment, the youth went into a deep dive. The minotaur's left hand was already flying in a backhand, intending to take his head off. Rain felt the muscles in his back and thighs tense. He slipped under the monster's arm, emerging behind its back, and immediately broke the distance, retreating with three sliding steps.
The monster spun around with an agility terrifying for its size. It lowered its horned head and charged to ram him.
Rain's breathing remained steady, but a light sheen of sweat had already appeared on his forehead. His brain was working at its limit, calculating movement vectors. To meet such mass head-on was suicide. To retreat in a straight line backwards meant letting the monster build up speed.
The youth waited until the tips of the horns were half a meter from his chest. A sharp, springy drop of his weight down and to the right. Rain's right hand rested on the thick neck of the beast flying past, while his left intercepted its imaginary wrist. Using the minotaur's own centrifugal force, the martial arts master added a light guiding impulse, executing a technique similar to aikido.
The monster's bulk rushed past, slightly losing its balance, but its anomalous stats did their job—the minotaur stayed on its feet, instantly turning around for a new attack.
The fight transitioned into a phase of intense, exhausting maneuvering.
Rain moved across the churchyard like water flowing around stones. His bare feet slid silently across the wet grass. He was working at the very limit of his concentration. Every movement of the minotaur was dictated by pure, irrational aggression, making its attacks predictable, but their speed and area of effect left no room for relaxation.
A downward strike—Rain shifts diagonally, letting the imaginary fist that was supposed to shatter the ground pass by. A horizontal slash with its claws—the youth leans his torso back just enough for the blades to slice only air, without breaking his own balance.
He tried to counterattack, delivering pinpoint strikes to the phantom's joints, kneecaps, and ligaments. His fists struck the nerve clusters all over the beast's body. His palms crashed into the bends of its elbows, trying to redirect its power. But the laws of this world were inexorable. Rain's mind honestly acknowledged the result: his strikes, lethal to a human or any other monster of his own level, got bogged down in the anomalous power of its stats.
The youth's lungs began to burn. Sweat streamed down his temples and chest. The mental simulation demanded a colossal expenditure of energy, because his brain was forcing his nervous system to operate as if he were truly a millimeter away from death.
The minotaur went into a frenzy. A flurry of rapid, alternating punches forced Rain to retreat to the edge of the yard. A swing of the left—a deflecting block with a sliding motion of the forearm. A swing of the right—a duck followed by a slip behind its back.
The beast suddenly changed its pattern. Instead of another punch, the minotaur threw a massive knee forward, aiming for the youth's solar plexus.
Rain reacted instinctively. He crossed his forearms in front of him, going into a tight guard while simultaneously springing backwards to absorb some of the inertia. The imaginary blow threw him back several meters. Rain's bare feet skidded across the dew-wet grass.
He regained his balance, breathing heavily. The muscles in his legs burned with tension.
The minotaur, giving him no respite, closed in again. This time the monster threw its arms wide, trying to catch the human in a deadly embrace and crush him.
Rain gauged the distance. There was nowhere left to retreat—behind him, in his real perception, was the wall of the church. He had to meet it head-on.
He darted forward abruptly, diving right under the closing log-like arms. Perfect timing. The youth found himself right in the center of the beast's guard. He threw a short, stiff upward strike with the heel of his palm, precisely at the minotaur's imaginary lower jaw. The strike was aimed at concussing the brain through the cervical spine.
But at the exact moment his palm reached its target, Rain's left foot, serving as his anchor, treacherously slipped on the damp, cut grass of the yard.
The slip was no more than a couple of centimeters, but it was enough to disrupt the combo and break his balance. Rain's reaction speed dropped by a negligible fraction of a second.
For a monster of that level, that was tantamount to an eternity.
The minotaur, ignoring the blow to its jaw, lowered its head and jerked its right shoulder violently. A huge fist, the size of a blacksmith's anvil, crashed down from above, straight at the exposed youth.
Rain realized he wouldn't have time to dodge. He didn't even have time to raise his arms for a block, which wouldn't have saved him from pulverized bones anyway.
The monster's fist relentlessly closed in on his face.
And at the very moment the blow was supposed to smear him across the ground, the illusion melted away. The fist, having brushed the tip of Rain's nose, suddenly lost its density. The enormous carcass of the minotaur rippled, crumbling into hundreds of wisps of fog that immediately dissolved into the morning air.
The spar was over. Rain was left standing in the empty yard, drawing in air heavily with a whistle. His chest was heaving. His muscles trembled slightly from the overexertion, and sweat streamed profusely down his pale skin, glistening in the rays of the risen sun.
He stood there for about a minute, calming his wildly pounding heart, then exhaled slowly and walked to the edge of the lawn. There, by the stone fence, a bucket of ice-cold well water he had prepared in advance was waiting for him. Scooping up water with a wooden ladle, the youth generously doused himself from his head to his waist. The cold washed away the sweat and fatigue, returning clarity to his thoughts.
Snorting, Rain wiped his face with his palms, returned to the very center of the yard, and sat on the grass cross-legged.
It was time for the second part of his training.
He rested his hands on his knees, straightened his back, and focused his gaze on the empty space about half a meter in front of him. His breathing became deep and steady once again. The youth cast aside all thoughts of the physical, completely immersing himself in the control of his will.
The air in front of him rippled almost imperceptibly.
At first, it looked like a faint heat haze on a hot day. Then, obeying a silent command, invisible currents began to flow toward a single point. The grass around Rain went still, the wind died down completely, as if the entire atmosphere in the yard had been drawn into a single epicenter.
Right before his eyes, an unnatural, transparent sphere began to form. The wind spiraled, condensing more and more, until a sphere about half a meter in diameter stood out distinctly in the space, distorting the light passing through it. Inside the sphere raged a miniature but incredibly powerful hurricane.
Rain stared at the sphere without blinking. His eyebrows knitted slightly.
Having achieved a stable hold on the mass, he moved on to the next stage. Concentrating his will to the limit, the youth began to press down on the sphere, forcing the currents to spin even faster and compress inward upon themselves.
The sphere trembled. The air inside it took on a grayish tint from the colossal pressure. The outer edges of the sphere began to slowly contract, shrinking in diameter. The process went stiffly, as if Rain were trying to compress a steel spring with his bare hands. Filigree precision was required to keep such density in a stable state.
The sphere shrank to forty centimeters. Then to thirty-five. The pressure inside it reached a critical point.
Suddenly, the surface of the sphere rippled. The equilibrium was broken. Rain tried to level out the currents, but the stability was already lost.
With a quiet, whistling pop, the sphere lost its shape. The rigid structure crumbled, and the compressed air was released, washing over the youth with a sharp, cool gust of wind that ruffled his damp hair.
Rain flopped onto his back with a dull thud, right onto the grass.
He threw his arms wide. His chest heaved heavily, and sweat broke out on his forehead again, this time from mental overstrain. The youth stared up into the clear, blue sky of Orario, across which sparse clouds were slowly drifting.
"Didn't work out..." he stated aloud calmly, without much annoyance. Experiments with elemental control required time and boundless patience.
An hour later, the inside of the church smelled so good that any normal person would have instantly started drooling.
Rain, washed and dressed in clean casual clothes, sat unperturbed at the massive wooden table. In front of him was a plate with perfect sunny-side-up eggs, crispy bacon fried to a golden crust, and a neatly sliced fresh salad. He methodically conveyed the food into his mouth, washing it down with herbal tea.
He was not alone at the table. The ladies had woken up just in time for breakfast.
To his right sat Hestia. The Goddess, clad in her usual white dress, was wolfing down the food with enviable appetite, occasionally reaching with her fork toward the communal plates in the middle of the table to serve herself extra pieces of bacon.
Across from them, however, hunched over in her chair and timidly clutching a wooden mug in her hands, sat Liliruca. The girl looked tense. She kept casting uncertain glances alternately at Rain and the Goddess, clearly not understanding how exactly she had been dragged into this domestic, familial idyll.
Although, if one recalled the events of the previous evening, everything was explained quite simply.
A vivid flashback surfaced in Lili's memory.
Yesterday, after Hestia burst into the church screaming about "cheating," the situation had developed rather chaotically. Lili, scared to death, had dropped to her knees right on the stone floor, ready to beg for mercy. Hestia sat down on the sofa right in front of her, crossed her arms over her chest, and began making serious, intimidating faces with all her might, trying to give herself the stern look of a supreme deity passing judgment.
Rain, meanwhile, stood unperturbed in the kitchen corner, brewing tea. Looking at his Goddess's puffed-out cheeks and knitted brows, he noted to himself: No. That is not scary at all. It's actually rather cute.
Finishing with the drinks, he walked over to the sofa, set the cups on the table, and then, with an entirely mundane gesture, lightly bonked Hestia on the crown of her head with the empty tray.
"Stop scaring our first guest, Goddess," he said calmly.
Then he sat down next to Hestia, looked at the trembling Pallum girl, and added: "And you knock it off too. Get off the floor and sit on a chair."
Lili, blushing furiously, complied. She climbed onto a tall chair, grabbed the warm mug with both hands, and began taking tiny sips of tea, trying not to look up. Hestia, in turn, took a confident swig from her cup, slammed it onto the table with a loud clack—making Lili flinch in fright—and declared matter-of-factly: "Fine! I trust Rain, and I understand that my reaction might have been hasty. And as a wise goddess, I am ready to hear you out calmly."
Everything after that was a blur. Rain briefly, without unnecessary emotions, outlined Liliruca's story and her problems with the Soma Familia to the Goddess.
As the story progressed, Hestia's face changed. All her faux sternness evaporated. By the middle of the story, her lips were trembling, and by the end, tears were streaming from her blue eyes like rivers. Sniffling loudly, the incredibly moved Goddess vaulted over the table and scooped Lili up into such a tight hug that the girl started suffocating in her chest.
"You are staying the night with us! Period!" Hestia stated categorically through her tears.
And that was how it came to pass that they were now sitting at the same table, sharing a morning meal.
The silence reigning in the room—sleepy and peaceful rather than awkward—was broken by Rain.
"By the way," the youth said, setting his fork aside and taking a sip of tea. "Last night, at the market, I bumped into Lord Takemikazuchi. He invited us to visit their Familia. What do you think, Goddess?"
Hestia froze with a piece of bacon halfway to her mouth. She raised a surprised look to him, blinking comically.
"Huh? To Take's?" she dragged out. "Sounds great, but... What about your trips down into the Dungeon?"
"I think we can take a proper day off today," Rain replied calmly, leaning back in his chair. "It's a good excuse to unwind a bit and take a break from the routine. If we really go visit them, can you get a day off from work?"
Hestia's eyes instantly shone with joy. The thought that they could spend the whole day together, strolling around the city, chased all thoughts of selling potato snacks out of her head.
"Of course!" she exclaimed with enthusiasm. The Goddess proudly turned up her nose, planting her hands on her hips. "Nothing is impossible for the best employee of the month! I'll talk it over with the boss in no time!"
Rain smiled gently, looking at her enthusiasm.
"Splendid."
Then he shifted his gaze to the girl sitting across from him. Liliruca was chewing her salad with the air of someone trying to blend in with the furniture.
"Lili," he called out softly.
The girl flinched and raised cautious eyes to him.
"Want to come with us?" Rain offered. "That is, of course, if you don't have other, more important things to do today."
Lili froze, not believing her ears. She shifted her bewildered gaze from Rain to her plate, not knowing how to react.
Before she could find the words, Hestia enthusiastically slapped her palm on the table.
"Great idea!" The Goddess turned to Lili and gifted her with such a radiant, genuine smile that the Pallum's chest felt warm. "Come with us, Lili! I promise it will be a lot of fun! At the same time, I'll show you the most delicious food stalls in the city!"
Liliruca looked at these two smiling faces. A treacherous lump rose in her throat again, and tears welled up in her eyes. But this time, they were not tears of pain and humiliation, but of something completely different. Something bright.
She sniffled, hastily wiped her eyes, and, fighting the tremor in her voice, replied with a wide, timid smile:
"O-okay! Lili would love to go with you!"
Calming down, the girl dug into the cooling sunny-side-up eggs with redoubled appetite, tasting her food for the first time in a long while rather than just consuming calories.
Rain and Hestia, watching her, subtly exchanged glances. The youth gave a barely perceptible nod, and the Goddess, squinting slyly, winked conspiratorially back at him. The morning was definitely off to a good start.