Fron's face darkened, wishing he could smack the girls from the tavern to death.
"Th-that was an accident, cough cough."
Raul grinned mischievously, winking and nudging.
Mental collapse!
All the way back, Fron's face was black as he exuded a dark aura that kept everyone at a distance. It was terrifying.
-------------------------------------
The city of Orario repeated the same street scenes every day.
Workers left their homes, shops opened their doors.
Crowds of adventurers gathered towards the chalk-white tower, preparing to explore the dungeon.
Carrying a large backpack, with a beautiful staff slanted on the side of his leather belt, at this moment, Fron finally looked like an adventurer.
In the two leg pouches were "healing potions" and "mental recovery potions" gifted by his companions who saw him off in the morning, and even Ais uncharacteristically gave him a short sword as a spare.
It made Fron feel dizzy, and he hurriedly thanked everyone.
"'Short Sword No.2', this quality—it must cost around 10,000 valis, right? Each healing potion is 1,000 valis, and the mental recovery potion is even more expensive."
"I owe a lot of favors now, but well, the more debts the less you worry. I'll pay them back once I get stronger."
He took a few deep breaths to calm his unsettled emotions, held the straps of his backpack with both hands, and arrived at Babel Tower.
The wide, vast plaza was awe-inspiring every time he stood there, marveling at the near-divine craftsmanship.
Beside the magnificent fountain crafted by the "Master Smith" Daedalus, a red-haired youth had already been waiting. Fron stood still for a moment, surveyed the surroundings, quickly noticed him, smiled slightly, and walked over.
"Yo, I'm not late, am I?"
Welf looked at his outfit and nodded:
"Ah, I came early. This is... a supporter's outfit?"
"I forgot to mention yesterday, I'm a rear guard, a mage. Since we're a pair, you'll be the vanguard, right? I'll handle firepower and support."
"No problem, it's only the first few floors, I can handle that."
"Alright, let's head out!"
They nodded to each other and entered the first basement floor of Babel Tower together, descending the spiral staircase around the massive hollow into the dungeon.
On the way, they had a brief conversation.
"It's our first time teaming up, so there may be some coordination issues. If you trust me, you can leave the defense of your back to me, as well as firepower support."
"In the floors we're going to, the monsters don't have long-range attacks. As long as we pay attention to positioning and formation, and avoid getting surrounded, the difficulty will drop significantly."
As he spoke, Fron glanced at Welf's weapon and roughly estimated his attack range.
"How many monsters can you handle at once?"
"If it's War Shadows, four at a time is fine."
Fron nodded, then assigned tasks based on Welf's combat capability.
"Got it, four is your limit, so let's aim to keep it at two at a time. If it exceeds that, I'll eliminate the extras first."
"As for rest breaks, let's rest for 5 minutes every 30 minutes, sound good?"
Welf turned his head in surprise and asked:
"Didn't expect you to have command skills too."
Fron shrugged. Haven't eaten pork but seen pigs run, right?
His past life experience was still useful — after all, being a raid leader for several years wasn't a joke.
"Ah, with just the two of us, you as the vanguard will have your mind clouded by the pressure of directly facing monsters, and your field of vision won't be as broad as mine in the rear guard. I'm more suited to oversee the whole battlefield."
"Didn't think you were this reliable. I've never heard of anyone like you in Loki Familia."
"Just a nobody. At my level, there are countless people like me in the city. Perhaps there really are some weak Pallum supporters who have exceptional command abilities."
"Hahaha, don't joke. If such talents existed, those strong familias would've snatched them up already!"
Just after saying this, Welf noticed Fron looking at him with a strange, playful smile, which made him choke back the rest of his words.
"Hey, you're not serious, are you?"
Fron's gaze was meaningful. He smiled without answering.
"tsk, you... Talking halfway like that is so annoying. That's why I hate you mages."
"Hey, vanguard, monsters ahead."
"Yeah yeah, so annoying!"
Welf drew his broad two-handed greatsword from his back and charged forward with a loud shout.
The first few floors mainly had small monsters like goblins and kobolds. With Welf's nearly level-up stats, he could easily handle them alone, completely not needing Fron's firepower support. His job was to collect the magic stones and dropped items from monsters — basically, picking up money.
The two advanced effortlessly, mowing down enemies. The fights were overwhelming, mostly ending with a single slash turning monsters into ashes.
Welf swung his greatsword in front while Fron carefully observed his fighting style.
Relying on his tremendous mental power, he compared him to the Tione sisters from his memories.
Clearly, Welf's combat technique and experience were quite rough, but not without merits.
His weapon adaptability was very high — it was likely a custom-made weapon for himself.
The way he swung it was quite smooth, using the weapon's performance to compensate for his lack of experience and skill.
As for tactics or strategy, there was basically none—
"Ha!"
With one strike he finished off the last monster and let out a breath of relief.
"Thirty minutes are up, take a break. I'll clean up the battlefield."
Welf nodded, put away his weapon, and sat on a rock gulping down water.
"Whew, having a supporter makes combat so much more efficient. We've reached the third floor in just half an hour, I've never had this kind of efficiency before."
While quickly extracting the magic stones from the monster corpses, Fron chatted:
"Logically speaking, your teammates in Hephaestus Familia shouldn't be weak. Why is the efficiency so low?"
"Ugh, don't bring it up. Those bastards—"
"Ah, because you have the skill to forge magic swords but stubbornly refuse to acknowledge them, so they think you're wasting your talents?"
"Well, that's pretty much it."
After collecting everything, Fron smiled while lifting the money pouch, feeling the weight of the coins with satisfaction and sighing contentedly.
"I think magic swords are very powerful. On one side of the scale is your life, on the other is the magic sword — which would you choose?"
"...tsk."
Faced with Fron's soul-searching question, the red-haired youth awkwardly averted his gaze.
"Hahaha, let's go."
"When you meet trustworthy companions, you'll understand."
"Hey you, you look about the same age as me, but you talk like an old man."
"You're 16, right? I'm 4 or 5 years older than you, I'm your senior. Valuable life experience requires the polishing and accumulation of time, you understand, junior?"
As time passed, their coordination became more precise, and their efficiency in clearing the dungeon increased.
After splitting the last monster in two, they reached the seventh floor, surpassing their previous record.
—Only then did Welf realize that this guy's constant teasing actually helped him relax during battle.
Not only his mindset, but his combat techniques had also become smoother.
"You did it on purpose?"
Fron still wore his money-grubbing expression.
"That's what experience is, young one."
"..."
Crack—
The wall split open again, spawning monsters.
"—Hey, that's a lot of them."
The dungeon sometimes whimsically gave adventurers little surprises, like spawning over a dozen monsters at once.
"Ah, head to the steps by the passage and guard the entrance — it'll make it a lot easier."
After speaking, Fron ran up the stairs, leaving Welf to guard the stairway.