Liliruca's POV
I didn't mean to get involved. Honestly, I didn't.
The Dungeon wasn't kind to people like me—small, weak, and unwanted. People only saw me as a porter, someone to carry bags, clean blood off armor, and bow my head when they shouted. I was used to being overlooked. It was safer that way.
But that day… I couldn't walk away.
That boy—no, that adventurer—he was fighting something I had only heard about in whispers. A monster that shouldn't be on those floors. A minotaur. No—something worse than a normal one. A mutated version. Massive. Brutal. A killer.
And he faced it alone.
I hid, like I always do. Behind a broken pillar, clutching my bag, heart pounding in my ears.
I watched.
Watched as he fought with everything he had. Every move sharp, every breath strained. He wasn't normal—his strength, his instincts… they reminded me of someone dangerous. No… someone powerful.
And yet, he bled.
A lot.
Even though he was fast, that thing was stronger. He couldn't afford a single mistake, and eventually, he slipped. One hit was all it took to throw him across the room. I thought he was dead. I almost ran.
But he stood again.
Bloodied, trembling, sword barely in his grip—and he smiled.
Not the smile of a lunatic.
It was the smile of someone who refused to fall.
My chest clenched. I hated it. That stupid, stubborn determination… it reminded me of how far I'd fallen. How much I wanted to run away from everything.
And then he won.
He actually killed it. But the second the beast fell, so did he.
Collapsed like a broken doll.
I ran to him before I could even think. His blood soaked into my gloves as I tried to shake him awake. He didn't move.
"Hey! Come on, wake up! Damn it…"
The other adventurers appeared soon after. They were scared of the monster's corpse, and then amazed at who killed it. They offered to carry him. Some even argued.
But I shouted, "I'll take him!"
He was too heavy for me, but I didn't let go. I dragged him. I slipped once. My legs shook. My arms screamed. But I didn't care.
I took him to the Guild. I shouted for help. They rushed him in.
I stayed there, breathless, for hours.
And then… she came.
The tiny goddess with twin tails and a fire in her eyes. She saw him and dropped to her knees. I watched her grab his hand, her voice trembling, her tears falling.
And I saw something I never expected.
She loved him.
Not just as a goddess to her familia member. But something deeper.
I backed away, silent. Unnoticed.
I wasn't supposed to be here anyway.
Now, days later, I sat in an alley across from the pub—The Hostess of Fertility. My pack was light, mostly potions and food, barely worth anything. But my heart was heavier than ever.
He was strong. So much stronger than me. And yet…
I couldn't forget the way he looked at that monster.
I wanted that kind of strength. I wanted to stand beside someone like that—not behind them, begging for scraps. Beside them.
Maybe, just maybe… I could change my fate.
"Liliruca Arde," I whispered to myself. "What are you doing, you idiot?"
And yet, I stood.
I knew where the Hestia Familia lived. Word traveled fast among porters. Rumors spread. And now, everyone was talking about the black-haired adventurer who killed a special-type Minotaur on the lower floors… alone.
They didn't know his name yet.
But I did.
Ethan.
And I had a feeling our paths weren't finished yet.
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