A Friend to Lean
Elara knocked. Soft but clear.
The door opened.
Eina stood there in her nightwear—loose cotton, her shoulder-length brown hair finally down and free. The Guild uniform visible behind her, folded neatly on the chair—black vest, white blouse, the bow that usually sat at her collar now draped across them.
Relief crossed her face. Small, but warm. Real.
"Elara," she said, smile forming without effort.
Guilt settled in Elara's chest. More than ten days. Right next door, yet she'd let the distance grow.
"Come in," Eina added, stepping aside.
Elara stepped inside. The small apartment—familiar now. Books stacked beside the low table. Tea set waiting on the kitchen.
"Sorry for not visiting sooner," Elara said quietly.
Eina shook her head, closing the door. "You're here now. That's what matters."
"So, how is Guild work?" Elara kept her voice calm. Then, quieter, "Any leads on that..."
She left it unfinished. Hanging between them.
Eina's smile faded slightly. Her hand moved to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear—the habit when something weighed on her mind.
"The usual," she said carefully. "Incident reports. Too many close calls." She paused. "And... no. Nothing concrete yet."
The words felt heavier than they should.
"Ok." Elara's tone shifted—practical now. "Can you help me with details about the 14th floor? I'm going on an expedition soon. Need details about monsters and the floor."
Eina's expression changed immediately. The fatigue sharpened into focus.
"Fourteenth floor?" She moved toward her bookshelf without waiting for confirmation. Her fingers traced the spines until she found what she needed—a worn ledger, edges frayed from constant reference. "That's mid-floor territory."
"Sit," Eina said, already lowering herself to the floor cushion. "This will take a while."
Elara settled across from her. The ledger lay open between them, pages marked with careful annotations.
Eina's finger traced down a column. "The thirteenth floor marks the First Line—the entrance to the middle floors. Everything changes from there." She flipped a page. "Bedrock walls. Complex layouts with intertwining tunnels, upper and lower passages. The light gets darker. Air becomes humid."
"Spawn rates?" Elara asked.
"Four times faster than the upper floors." Eina's tone remained even, professional. "The Dungeon doesn't give you breathing room down there. Solo diving becomes extremely dangerous—even for Level 2 adventurers."
She pulled the ledger closer, her finger stopping at a specific entry.
"Primary monsters on the fourteenth floor." Eina looked up briefly. "Hellhounds. Black fur, red eyes, four-legged. They spit fire magic—not powerful individually, but they hunt in packs. Classified as high Level 1 to low Level 2 when grouped."
Elara nodded once, absorbing the information.
"Almiraj," Eina continued. "White rabbits with a single horn and red eyes."
Her eyes lingered for a second. Cheeks flushed slightly. Then she shook her head, like dismissing an unnecessary thought.
"Don't let their appearance fool you—they're vicious. Born with stone axes. They throw them mid-combat, and they coordinate attacks in groups. Individually weak, but together they're classified as Level 2 threats."
"What else?" Elara asked. Unbothered by the thread.
"Crystal Mantis. Large praying mantis monsters with crystalline bodies. They're attracted to shiny objects—crystals, metal, polished armor. Their carapaces are valuable but difficult to harvest intact."
Eina flipped another page. "Dungeon Worms. Man-sized, burst from the ground without warning. Mouths full of sharp teeth. They target isolated party members."
Her expression tightened.
"And occasionally—Wyverns. Pink-scaled, draconic. They can fly, which makes them dangerous in open chambers. No breath attacks like true dragons, but their mobility is the problem. They dive, retreat, and wear you down."
"Terrain hazards?" Elara asked.
"Vertical holes leading to deeper floors appear randomly. Step wrong and you're falling to the fifteenth or sixteenth floor—straight into Minotaur territory." Eina's voice carried weight. "The ceiling height increases to nearly ten meters in some areas. Monsters spawn from walls and ceilings without warning. You need to watch every angle."
She closed the ledger partially, meeting Elara's eyes.
"The fourteenth floor isn't the hardest of the middle floors, but it's where the Dungeon stops being forgiving. Monsters on thirteen and fourteen aren't much stronger than twelfth floor creatures individually—but the spawn rate, the numbers, the terrain complexity..." She shook her head. "That's what kills people. Getting overwhelmed."
Elara's gaze dropped to the ledger. "Any water sources we can use?"
"Springs appear on the fourteenth floor. Fresh water. Safe to drink if you filter it properly." Eina flipped to another marked page. "But monsters congregate near them. Hellhounds especially. They need water between hunts."
Silence settled between them.
"You're gathering materials," Eina said quietly. Not a question.
"Yes."
"What kind?"
"Phantom Vine. Grows near water sources."
Eina's expression didn't change, but something shifted in her posture. "That's rare. Valuable for alchemists." She paused. "You'll be near the springs. Where the Hellhounds hunt."
"I know."
"And you have a party?"
"Three total. Level 2 combat specialist. One gatherer who understands materials."
Eina nodded slowly. Then reached for a blank sheet of parchment. Her quill moved quickly, sketching.
"Common spring locations based on expedition reports." She marked three points. "These chambers. High traffic. More monsters, but the springs are reliable." Her quill moved again. "These two are less known. Quieter. But the terrain is unstable. Falling rocks. Narrow passages."
She slid the sketch across the table.
"Take this. And don't take unnecessary risks. Phantom Vine isn't worth your life."
Elara took the parchment, folding it carefully. "Thank you."
"One more thing." Eina's voice dropped slightly. "If you encounter a Silverback—"
"Silverback?"
"Yes. They're rare on fourteen, but they do spawn occasionally in that floor. Level 2 classification, but they hit like Level 3. One punch can crack armor. If you see one—retreat. Don't engage."
Elara nodded once.
"Be careful." Eina adjusted her glasses.
"I'll be careful."
Eina's expression softened slightly. "You always are. But careful isn't always enough down there."
She closed the ledger and set it aside.
"When are you diving?"
"Soon. Once the party is assembled."
"Come back before you go," Eina said quietly. "Let me know you're leaving. So I know when to worry."
Elara smiled—small, brief. "I will."