Chapter 14: Settling Down Part 2

The inside of the administration center was still bustling, but most of the crowd was gathered around the reception desk, leaving the hall itself relatively quiet.

The place Loreia led them to was a secluded corner of that very hall.

At a nearby table, familiar faces came into view.

Moss sat with his eyes closed, while Bork was intensely focused on stacking a tower of cards.

Around Bork’s card tower were scattered ruins of collapsed cards.

It seemed he couldn’t stack more than five levels.

Given his thick fingers, that was understandable. Loreia and Soren walked over to them.

“Got him.”

“…Ah, Loreia. Thanks for your hard work.”

“Nnngh… Kid, sit carefully. If this collapses, it’s a big deal.”

“Why is it a big deal?”

Despite his words, Soren carefully searched for a spot to sit.

Just then, Loreia, who was sitting on the outside, quickly patted the seat next to her.

Soren went over and sat down.

“If it collapses, I’ll have to go to the clinic again. The clinic hurts.”

“Bork… you’re going either way. You were seriously hurt just the day before yesterday.”

“Wh-What…!”

Thanks to Moss’s ill-timed comment, Bork’s carefully stacked card tower came crashing down.

Though, it had only reached the third level anyway.

“Ah, I’m sorry, Bork.”

“Damn it… Ancestors, why do you test me with such trials…?”

Despair deepened on the face of Bork, the brave barbarian warrior.

And all it took to crush his spirit was a fragile tower of cards.

Truly, even the most carefully built tower can fall.

As Soren let out a small sigh, Moss looked over at him and asked, “Have you eaten yet?”

“No. I didn’t really get the time.”

“It’s no good to talk on an empty stomach. Let’s eat something first. My treat.”

“Thanks.”

Loreia quickly cut in, sharp as ever.

Moss gave a slightly weary look, but unfortunately, Loreia had the thicker skin.

While Moss went to place an order, Soren slowly scanned the inside of the administration center.

‘Some faces are missing.’

This wasn’t Soren’s first time at the center.

It was only his second, but he had definitely been here once last week.

From that perspective, among the crowd in the hall, a few people he saw last time were missing.

There were also some new faces.

Most of the newcomers looked shabby and tense, awkwardly wandering around the hall.

They were probably aiming for the second wave of dungeon entries around lunchtime.

As he glanced at them, a crease formed between Soren’s brows.

‘Was I like that too? Damn, I wouldn’t have let me in either.’

Only someone who’s been beaten knows what hurts.

Just like only someone who’s been in the dungeon knows what it’s like to be unprepared.

To Soren, some of the newcomers practically screamed, ‘I’m a total rookie.’

It made him understand why no party had picked him up last week.

Even though he tried to look composed on the outside, he couldn’t fully hide his inexperience.

Being “young” might sound like a compliment in most situations—but not among dungeon explorers.

***

“What’re you looking at?”

As Soren watched the newbie adventurers with a sympathetic eye, Loreia suddenly leaned in from the edge of his vision.

“Loreia, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Thanks for the compliment.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“I’m a thief. That counts as praise.”

Whether he noticed it or not, being a thief somehow made it a compliment.

Soren was left speechless by that logic.

Defeated, he gave up arguing and turned his gaze back to the administration center.

But Loreia wasn’t about to give up.

Eventually, she leaned in close and rested her chin on Soren’s head as she asked again, “What’re you looking at?”

“Just people-watching. And could you not—my head—”

“You’re tiny. It’s cute.”

“I’m starting to get annoyed.”

“You’re even cuter when you’re mad.”

There was no use complaining.

Once again, Soren was the one who gave up.

A loud ding rang out, and his gaze shifted to the large clock above the reception desk.

It was five minutes to the hour.

Adventurers holding numbered tickets began to move busily.

Some grumbled as if they’d drawn an unlucky number.

Some moved casually, like it was just another day.

Others followed the group nervously, trailing behind in clumsy steps.

Soren couldn’t look down on them.

He’d been the same just last week.

Sure, he had a guidebook, so he wasn’t quite that pathetic… but still, it wasn’t something to mock.

Soren was still basically a rookie himself.

One dungeon run—that was all he had to show for experience.

He’d been through a lot during that one run, but it still didn’t compare to someone who’d been through ten.

***

“Food’s here.”

Just as Soren was getting lost in thought, Moss returned with trays of food.

Soren quickly grabbed the second-largest dish.

The mountain of meat, of course, was for Bork.

‘Oh, crap.’

Soren gulped.

With the steaming food in front of him, the hunger he’d forgotten came rushing back.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t eaten in over a day and a half.

It was strange he hadn’t felt hungry until now.

“Thanks for the meal.”

“Meat, meat.”

“Damn it, guess I’ll just eat meat too.”

“Take your time. We’re not heading into the dungeon today anyway.”

Moss smiled warmly as he began tearing into his bread.

Soren quickly grabbed his utensils.

He hadn’t come just for the meal, but still—exploring dungeons is best done on a full stomach.

***

“As you know, Soren, dungeon exploration is typically done with a four-person party.”

Moss spoke after swallowing, as if talking with food in your mouth were unthinkable.

It made Soren’s cheeks burn in embarrassment—he had stuffed his mouth like he was starving.

“Mmf.”

“Sorry?”

“hic… Yeah. I know.”

After chugging down some water and nodding, Soren was met with another gentle nod from Moss.

‘Is he usually this oblivious?’

People who live proper, polite lives often lack awareness.

Cleric Moss seemed to be one of them.

Soren perked up his ears for what came next.

“Actually, our party used to be a four-person team. We had a decent mage with us.”

“That damn spell-slinger ditched us and joined another party like a coward. Traitorous bastard.”

Bork, who was chewing on some meat nearby, chimed in with greasy lips gleaming.

Soren pieced together the rough explanation from Moss and Bork.

As it turns out, the mage who had once been part of their party had sucked them dry for all they were worth and then conveniently jumped ship to another team.

“Bork’s words were harsh, but… yes, it does sting. We really tried to treat him well. I don’t know what he was so unhappy about…”

Soren felt the same way.

Usually, you’d want to hear both sides of a story before forming a judgment, but in this case, the mage just seemed like a complete jerk.

“Not that there’s any point in digging it all up again. Anyway, let me continue.”

Moss gave a bitter smile before continuing, and Soren focused back on him.

“The reason a four-person party is so important is simple. The difference between having one more person or not can make or break a fight.”

“That’s true.”

“You saw it yourself before, right? When we first ran into Karel’s party, if we’re being honest, we could’ve easily lost.”

Soren had felt it repeatedly—numbers mattered in dungeons.

The difference in headcount was an overwhelming advantage not easily bridged.

Unless you ambushed the enemy, in most direct fights, each person essentially represented one unit of action.

When Moss swung his flail, the enemy would raise a shield.

When Loreia fired her hand crossbow, their rogue would shoot back.

When Bork charged in with his axe, their monk or barbarian would counter.

And if the opposing team had one extra member, Moss’s party would simply be outmatched.

The concept of “action economy” was, when you thought about it, pretty straightforward.

Even if combat played out in real time, assuming the enemy would just stand there and take your hits was the kind of thinking only someone with flowers blooming in their skull would have.

If you move, so does your enemy.

That was the natural law.

So, being outnumbered was a huge disadvantage—one not easily made up for with raw skill alone.

“Honestly, our dungeon run last week was a risky decision. The time before that was our first try as a three-person party and…”

“Our first run as a trio?”

“Yeah. We nearly got into serious trouble when we ran into some raiders. Just our luck.”

Despite that bitter experience, they’d gone in again with just three members.

And there was only one reason for that.

“Was it… money?”

“Exactly.”

Money—the fate of all adventurers.

It might not be worth your life, but it was easily worth risking a comrade’s.

Soren tilted his head in confusion.

From what he could tell, Moss’s party didn’t seem to lack skills. Why were they so desperate for cash?

“Well, it’s because of gambling, actually…”

“…Excuse me?”

Soren blinked, thinking he must’ve misheard. A priest racking up gambling debt?

Moss didn’t even look like the type.

He seemed gentle and diligent—definitely not someone you’d associate with gambling dens.

“I think I lost sight of myself for a bit. I thought… if I could grow our funds through gambling, it’d be a glorious achievement…”

The god Moss worshipped was none other than Elaiphion—the God of Glory.

And Elaiphion was also the Goddess of Fortune.

‘How could a god be both, you ask?’ Well, apparently, Elaiphion possessed both male and female personas and could change physical form accordingly.

“A god of glory and a goddess of luck, and also the master of the mid-level dungeon ‘The Desolate Ruins’—Elaiphion possesses two consciousnesses and a body that shifts with each. In other words, they’re androgynous.”

Soren vaguely recalled reading that in a dungeon guidebook.

‘Unbelievable. A god with a fluid gender was one thing—but for the worshipper to embody the divine traits so literally?’

‘So, if you strike it rich, that’s glory—and if you get lucky while doing it, that’s divine favor? Is that the idea?’

It wasn’t wrong, per se.

Which just made it all the more absurd.

Moss, clueless to Soren’s thoughts, continued in a regretful tone.

“I… ended up using a bit of the party’s funds. I really need to pay it back quickly.”

“Hey, how about we form a new party without Moss? I think I know what the real problem is here.”

“Please don’t joke about that, even in passing!”

“Ah!”

Soren revised his opinion of the mage who’d left.

The mage wasn’t the issue.

The entire party was just a little bit broken.

“Anyway, I plan to cover the losses myself. Don’t worry too much.”

Easier said than done.

Soren’s face turned sour.

‘What the hell is this guy?’

“So, what’s your point? Listening to Moss’s nonsense is starting to wear me down.”

“Thank you for hearing me out.”

“That wasn’t sympathy.”

“In any case, I have a proposal for you.”

Soren could already see where this was going.

He didn’t say anything and simply listened, daring Moss to spit it out.

“Soren, during our last dungeon run… we worked pretty well together, don’t you think?”

“Objectively speaking, it wasn’t terrible.”

“Then, would you consider joining our party? I think this empty spot… it might’ve been meant for you.”

Moss laid it on thick with sugar-coated words.

To Soren, he was still the guy who gambled away the party funds, but part of him considered the offer seriously.

‘I was going to join a party eventually. I can’t just scavenge scrap metal on my own forever.’

Solo dungeon exploration limited your options to an extreme degree.

Monsters too strong to fight alone were just the beginning.

There was also the time it took to explore rooms, the quality of sleep with no watch rotation, and—above all—the ability to handle unexpected problems.

In every way, having a party was better than going it alone.

Of course, there were countless adventurers heading into dungeons.

There had to be at least a dozen other parties looking for a capable warlock.

So logically, there was no reason it had to be Moss’s party.

The problem was… could Soren trust those other parties?

This was an age where even fellow adventurers—and party members—could stab you in the back at any moment.

Even if he begged to join another group, what assurance did he have that they wouldn’t rob him blind or butcher him the first chance they got?

‘Better to work with people I’ve fought alongside, even if they’re a little off.’

Moss’s team might look rough around the edges, but they weren’t pushovers in the dungeon.

And from Soren’s point of view, as long as a party was useful in the dungeon, that was all that mattered.

“Honestly, this is probably the only party I can feel safe with.”

“Does that mean…?”

“Let’s do it. I’m in.”

“Wonderful!”

Moss grabbed Soren’s hand and pumped it up and down with wild enthusiasm.

Soren swayed from the force but sighed with relief, feeling like a heavy weight had been lifted.

‘Party problem—solved.’

He had finally secured his footing for the next dungeon expedition.

The biggest headache of them all was out of the way.