Freya, disguised as "Syr," turned a corner with quiet steps, her expression soft and pleased.
Bell had accepted her lunch with that innocent, flustered smile that tugged at her curiosity—the kind of reaction only he could give her.
She didn't need to linger. Her job here was done.
But as she prepared to move on, a figure approached from the opposite direction—calm, steady, and silent.
She thought it would be just another adventurer or local resident, but what she saw was... wrong.
His robes were layered with tools and strange metal parts. His mask glinted under the morning light, and a red mechanical eye glowed faintly beneath it. Floating behind him was a metallic skull—one she was certain wasn't just metal.
His aura wasn't divine. It wasn't even magical.
It was something else—alien and unsettling.
Freya stopped walking.
So did he.
Their eyes met—she could feel it. His gaze didn't linger like others. It didn't falter or fluster.
It was like someone had found a new toy.
The funny part? She couldn't even see his eyes, but she knew he was looking at her like something to be collected.
Should I ask someone to beat him up for thinking such a rude thing? Freya mused, tilting her head slightly, deciding to speak first.
"…You're not from around here, are you?"
Luthar's voice was neutral, flat. "Isn't it obvious?"
The servo-skull behind him whirred softly, scanning her and collecting data.
Freya smiled again, as if amused. "Don't be so cold. Why don't you come inside and have some breakfast?"
"The food is no good for the body," he replied coldly.
"Why don't you tell that to the owner of this restaurant? I believe she'd want to know why her food isn't good for the body."
Luthar glanced at the signboard—The Hostess of Fertility—and recalled information about the owner.
Does she want to kill me? he thought, remembering that the owner was quite strong... and didn't take kindly to people insulting her food.
At the same time, Freya decided to examine the type of soul he had, her eyes studying him with renewed interest.
She had seen the divine light that radiated from gods, the warmth of mortal souls, and the faint flickers of magic that whispered through the air.
But Luthar? His soul was a different kind of presence.
It felt like something beyond this world. She could almost taste it—the faint residue of chaotic energy that had touched him in ways she couldn't fully comprehend.
Freya's smile faltered for a moment as a curious thought passed through her mind.
Should I use my divine form to see his soul more clearly?
Luthar's voice broke her thoughts.
"You know, I think it's better if you try my energy packs. I believe they'll stop the distracting thoughts you're having."
Freya raised an eyebrow, amused by his rudeness. "Why don't you remove your mask so we can talk properly?"
"It's better for you to go back to your work," Luthar replied flatly.
"I'll do that when you promise to come inside," she said, stepping a bit closer.
"I don't have time."
"Then come when you're free."
Luthar considered it for a moment, recalling the elf who worked inside the Hostess—someone he had already marked as a potential recruit.
"Well… I'll try once I'm free."
"Then I'll hold you to that," Freya said with a playful wink.
Luthar gave a faint nod. "If time allows."
Then he turned and walked away.
Freya watched him for a moment longer, then turned on her heel, slipping back into the restaurant, her smile never fading.
She had just met a soul unlike any other—and she was far from done with him.
---
Later, Luthar made his way toward the Dungeon, his HUD quietly scanning the crowd.
He was searching for a particular target—Liliruca Arde, a small Pallum who looked like a little human girl.
His objective was clear: recruit her.
She was clever, experienced, and deeply familiar with the Dungeon's lower levels.
If he could gain her trust—either through subtle manipulation or by offering her strength—she could become a valuable asset.
And if she could conquer her nightmare—by defeating the Soma Familia that enslaved her—then she wouldn't just be useful.
She would be the perfect assistant.
---
Arriving at a place crowded with various supporters, he looked around but couldn't find her.
Probably already inside the Dungeon, he thought, and so he entered as well.
The moment his boots touched the uneven stone, his HUD flickered softly and began scanning the environment.
The First Floor had already been cleared by morning raiding parties.
Occasionally, there were distant echoes—a shout, a blade, the hiss of a dying monster—but none of it concerned him.
He moved forward without pause.
No weapon drawn.
No caution necessary.
The servo-skull drifted silently behind him like a phantom—its single red eye glowing faintly, its sensors on passive scan.
Upon arriving at the Second Floor, he encountered a few monsters like kobolds, but he just kept walking, eyes fixed forward.
The HUD pinged each creature in the vicinity, but he ignored them all.
Then something stirred behind him.
A kobold lunged at his back—only to be shot down by the servo-skull.
The servo-skull floated over.
With a brief hum and a tchk-tchk, a small mechanical arm extended and harvested the magic crystal, handing it over to Luthar before resuming its silent patrol.
Reaching the Third Floor was smooth.
Almost no resistance.
But instead of monsters, what caught his attention was a voice.
Sharp.
Annoyed.
And very loud.
"—you should be the one apologizing!" a female voice snapped, sharp like a blade.
It echoed through the corridor ahead, followed by a softer male voice trying—and failing—to respond.
"Me—but it was you—!"
Luthar turned a corner and spotted Bell, clearly caught in a verbal barrage.
His white hair was messier than usual, his red eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to defend himself.
The girl in front of him, Lyra, was an elf. Her stance was sharp and proud.
At a distance stood Riveria Ljos Alf, her arms crossed, visibly troubled by Lyra's attitude.
"Lyra," Riveria said, trying to remain calm, "you almost injured a fellow adventurer. You should be the one apologizing."
"He distracted me mid-shot," Lyra snapped, not even looking at Riveria. "Why did he have to pop up from around the corner?"
Luthar stood at the edge of the scene, watching silently.
He wasn't interested in the argument.
Not really.
But something else caught his attention.
He tilted his head slightly, scanning Lyra with a quiet hum through his HUD.
Her hair—it wasn't white anymore. It was silver.
It was really bad, he thought, realizing he couldn't dress her up like a battle sister anymore.
Bell, already overwhelmed, glanced past them—and his eyes widened when he saw a familiar figure standing silently at the edge of the corridor.
His heart skipped a beat.
"Luthar?" Bell blurted out, pointing behind Lyra. "Are you here to kill monsters?"
Lyra paused mid-glare. "Both of you know each other?"
Luthar took a step forward, the servo-skull floating steadily behind him like a silent shadow.
"Yes," he answered flatly. "We do know each other."
Bell nodded, unsure of what to say.
Lyra scoffed. "So, which Familia—?"
Luthar pointed to one of the symbols on his robes. "I haven't decided to change my belief in the Omnissiah."
"Omnissiah?" Bell asked. "Is that your god? I haven't seen him around the church."
Luthar looked at Bell. "It's not a physical god."
"Then how did you receive your blessings?" Lyra muttered.
Luthar's gaze flicked to her. "For me, the blessing is not something that increases strength, but knowledge and the miracle of technology."
His eyes lingered briefly on Lyra again, sharper now, with a hint of knowing.
"I didn't think you would change your hair color."
Riveria caught that. "You know her too?"
Luthar paused, then gave a short nod. "We've crossed paths before. I helped her... escape a situation.
But now I think I should've just kept her for myself instead of sending her to Loki."
Lyra's expression twitched. "I am not a pet."
Bell looked between them, even more confused. "Wait, what kind of situation?"
"Bandits who were going to sell her," Luthar replied simply.
Lyra turned away, her head low, clearly not in the mood to talk about her shameful past.
Luthar didn't push. Instead, he said calmly, "I'll continue my exploration."
"It's dangerous to go deeper into the Dungeon without a Falna," Riveria tried to stop him.
"It's only dangerous for the weak-minded," Luthar said.
The servo-skull gave a faint electronic chirp, as if in agreement.
Then both of them made their way toward the Fourth Floor, leaving all three behind.