Twelve years old—an age that would be considered small even among other races, let alone for an elf.
This year, twelve-year-old Filvis had eyes like crimson jewels, and clothing as cold and sharp as crystal.
No matter how you looked at her, when she grew up she would become a noble, "textbook" kind of elf—pure and dignified in exactly the way people expected.
Dusk was falling now. Filvis's hands were smeared with dirt and ash as she finally finished raising tombstones for all her companions.
When the work was done, she stood before one grave and stared blankly.
[Grave of Lofina]
"Lofina, stop spoiling this child so much. You'll ruin her."
"Don't talk nonsense—Filvis is a good girl! How could she be spoiled?"
Their laughter and voices still seemed to echo in her ears.
But the warmth of a hand ruffling her hair had long since gone cold.
She'd been so young that the seniors often teased her.
And whenever that happened, the one who stepped in to protect her was always the Familia's vice-captain.
An elf like her—someone Filvis had admired with all her heart.
It was because she watched that woman die saving her that Filvis had once snapped, charging the Dis Sisters with desperate fury.
"Lofina… big sister…"
Filvis wanted to cry, but no tears would come.
What lay inside that grave wasn't clothing.
It was a body—sorted, reassembled, stitched together again after being broken apart.
She endured the grief, the nausea, and the self-loathing, and forced herself to complete the task.
Maybe… her tears had already run dry back then.
And so Filvis hated the Dis Sisters even more—those demons who did nothing but spew lies.
"Blood can't wash away what's filthy."
Filvis stared at her own hands—hands that had once been drenched in her companions' blood.
If even water couldn't wash it away, how could blood ever cleanse anything?
Blood itself wasn't dirty.
What was dirty was her—tainted by a curse, and not even realizing it.
"So… what will you do now, Filvis?"
This wasn't Filvis talking to herself.
A god was speaking behind her.
The instant she heard that familiar voice, her whole body began to tremble.
In truth, with all her companions dead, the owner of that voice should have been her only support.
But—But…
"God… may I ask you something?"
Filvis turned—and met Dionysus's gaze head-on.
That look in her eyes made Dionysus waver for a moment.
She's grown so much…
What a delightful child…
"Ask. I'll answer anything."
Dionysus smiled brightly.
Rather than drown in the grief of losing the rest of his Familia, he preferred to intoxicate himself with the joy of this moment.
"God… am I cursed?"
Even Filvis herself didn't expect her voice to sound so calm.
"A curse? That's something only the Dark Faction would study. How could you have something like that on you?"
"..."
"Believe me—if I were a Dark Faction god, I'd know the Dungeon is full of evil. Why would I ever let you all go adventuring?"
"..."
"Filvis, you've followed me all this time. Haven't we always been doing good deeds?"
"..."
Dionysus still wanted to say more.
But Filvis simply stared at him, from beginning to end.
In the end, Dionysus spread his hands and smiled even wider.
He had intended to push Filvis into this situation one year later.
A noble, pure elf girl forced to fall into darkness…
What would she do?
What expression would she show?
Just imagining it made his mouth water.
But the scheduled time had been moved up a year by accident, and Dionysus felt both regret and pain.
His "monster remodeling" of Filvis wasn't finished yet.
She hadn't grown into the level that fully satisfied him.
The one piece of luck in all this was that Filvis hadn't died—she'd been saved by passing adventurers.
A gift of fate.
Dionysus truly thanked fate from the bottom of his heart.
Filvis's eyes and expression in this moment filled him with satisfaction.
"So determined… But if you already had the answer, why ask me at all?"
Dionysus pulled out a bottle of divine wine and poured himself a glass.
With scenery like this, of course you needed good wine—and a beautiful woman.
After draining it, he looked at Filvis, intoxicated.
"I just wanted to hear the truth spoken aloud… by the god I admired most."
Filvis didn't understand Dionysus's poetic mood. She only reflected him—deeply—in her eyes.
To the outside world, Dionysus was a truly benevolent god, someone who had helped countless people in hardship.
Filvis had joined his Familia out of admiration for that gentle, kind deity.
"..."
Filvis opened her mouth, wanting to ask why the god she admired had lied to her—
But the words reached her throat, and she swallowed them back down.
If he was an evil god, then no matter what his reasons were, she didn't want to hear them.
The young elf girl didn't know where she should go next.
But anywhere was better than staying here.
Seeing that Filvis no longer wished to speak, and seemed ready to turn and leave at once, Dionysus didn't look sad.
Instead, he produced a strangely colored crystal.
"Filvis—what happened to you here in this city, in Orario… will happen to everyone."
"..."
Those words stopped Filvis in her tracks.
This suffering… everyone would experience it?
"All suffering in this world comes from the weakness of the person enduring it. This crystal can help you become something stronger."
Dionysus stepped in front of Filvis and held the crystal up before her eyes.
It was bait—bait meant to lure Filvis into sinking deeper.
Why would Dionysus abandon Lofina and choose Filvis, even though they were both elves?
Because Filvis was naïve. Weak. Someone who couldn't live without relying on others.
To keep her locked at his side, two conditions had to be met:
First—every existing companion must die.
Second—she must be unable to gain new companions in the future.
If he achieved those two conditions, Filvis would have no choice but to follow him—
Follow the only one willing to "accept" her.
"What does this crystal do?"
"It will grant you a special magic—an extremely special, extremely powerful magic. At minimum, it will give you combat power on the level of Level 7."
With the fish biting, Dionysus smiled.
It was the confident smile of someone who believed everything was already in hand.
The kind of smile a fisherman wears when he's prepared every tool, gathered every advantage, and is convinced he won't go home empty-handed.
"…Then what's the price?"
"You'll become a monster-person—the filthiest kind of monster."
Filvis's slender body trembled. Her mind instantly flashed to the Dis Sisters.
In her memory, the dirtiest monsters she'd ever seen were those two demons.
If she used this crystal…
Would she become something even filthier than them?
Yes—exactly that.
Dionysus was ecstatic, his face twisting with the surge of emotion.
This was the expression he'd always wanted to see—
The expression of a pure elf girl who was about to choose her own corruption.
It was delicious.
Absolutely delicious.
Filvis truly was the most beautiful person in the world.
Fall, Filvis—and return to my side.
Dionysus had prepared only a single road for her.
But on the other side, after a brief surge of fear, Filvis thought of someone.
Someone the Dis Sisters themselves had been willing to trust—
Someone who had even been willing to let them live.
Filvis pressed a hand to her heartbeat.
Somehow…
She didn't feel as afraid anymore.
....
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