They sat in silence.
The hum of the morning square drifted past them without touching them—the distant cries of merchants, the jingling of harnesses, the creaking of carts loaded with goods for the upper floors. All of this existed somewhere outside, beyond the invisible dome of silence that had descended upon the two of them after the potion had done its work.
Rane leaned back against the hard back of the stone bench. The sun warmed his face pleasantly, and a light breeze wandering between the columns of the square brought the smell of fresh bread from a nearby bakery. He could have stood up and left already. Time was pressing. But he didn't move, feeling the figure curled into a ball next to him.
He cast a sidelong glance to his right, trying to do it as unobtrusively as possible. Liliruca sat with her head down, hiding her hands in the folds of her shapeless cloak. Her hood still rested on her shoulders, revealing her face—now clean, without traces of beatings. Miach's potion had worked flawlessly: the split lip had healed, the crimson swelling had gone down, giving way to a natural, slightly pale skin tone. An ordinary, pretty child's face, like hundreds of others running around the streets of Orario. But Rane's keen eye picked out the details that betrayed her true nature. The miniature build, the slightly pointed ears, the body proportions—all this unmistakably indicated her race.
A Pallum. So that was it.
He looked away as silently as he had cast his glance. His thoughts flowed measuredly, colored with a light, bitter irony. In his past life, he had read about her kind. A small folk who had lived for centuries in the shadow of larger and more aggressive races. The history of Pallums in this world was written in blood, oppression, and survival at the very bottom. To be a Pallum in Orario was like wearing an invisible brand.
First, a human with the soul of an old man, now a Pallum girl with the soul of a hunted little animal. Not bad company.
He shifted his gaze to the Tower. The colossal white needle of Babel pierced the heavens, losing itself in the bright blue. There, in its depths, awaited another descent, monsters, loot—a familiar, understandable routine. But right now, in this brief moment of peace, he was more occupied with the small figure sitting next to him.
Haaa...
A quiet, almost soundless exhale escaped his lips.
"You know," he said aloud, without turning his head and continuing to look at the Tower, "I'd like to hear your story."
Lili flinched. Her shoulders tensed, and her fingers, previously resting limply on her knees, convulsively clutched the fabric of her cloak. She slowly raised her head, and misunderstanding flashed in her huge chestnut eyes, mixed with a familiar, perfectly honed defensive reaction.
"Mr. Rane..." her voice still sounded quiet, but steely notes cut through it, familiar to him from their first meeting. "If this is because of what you saw... Lili doesn't need pity."
"Pity." She pronounced the word with a special, calculated bitterness—as if she had tasted it a thousand times and found it disgusting every single time.
Rane interrupted her before she could build another wall.
"It's not pity," he said calmly.
Lili froze mid-sentence, her mouth slightly open. He leaned back, resting his palms on the cold stone of the bench, and tilted his head back toward the sky, exposing his face to the sun's rays. There was no tension in this gesture, no hidden subtext—only the tired, almost lazy calm of a person who had seen enough not to twitch over trifles.
"I just think conversation is much better than silence," he continued, closing his eyes. "Don't you agree?"
Silence. Long, viscous. The wind ruffled the edge of her cloak, the sun played with highlights on the white stone of the pavement. Rane didn't rush her. He waited.
Lili looked at him. At his face bathed in the soft morning light, at his relaxed shoulders, at the corners of his lips, which held neither mockery nor hidden intent. He really was just... sitting there. And he really didn't care whether she answered or not.
Her small fists clenched the mantle so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
"What exactly..." her voice trembled. She swallowed and started again: "What exactly does Mr. Rane want to know?"
He half-opened his eyes. Through his eyelashes, the sky looked blurred, watercolor-like.
"Whatever you want to tell."
***
Time passed.
She didn't start speaking immediately. The words came out ragged, cautious, as if every syllable was a fragile piece of ice she was afraid to drop. She didn't complain. She simply listed the facts—dryly, almost detachedly.
She was a child of Pallums. Her family was poor but close-knit—until necessity led them into the ranks of the Soma Familia. Her parents died quickly. Their bodies couldn't withstand the debts, the endless work in the Dungeon, and that cloudy, intoxicating wine their god handed out as the ultimate reward. Lili was left alone. Weak. Useless.
Then—it got worse. Beatings. Humiliations. Familia members ready to tear each other's throats out for a sip of the divine drink. She was used as a pack mule, as bait, as a nobody. The only glimmer of light was an elderly couple who risked taking in the runaway. But Lili's "comrades" quickly reminded her that people like her couldn't have anything bright. After those old people were beaten up, the girl stopped believing in kindness.
When her story came to an end, silence hung between them once more. But this time it was different—heavy, saturated with things left unsaid. Lili sat with her head down, nervously fiddling with the edge of her cloak, as if regretting having spoken. The air felt thick and prickly. Every second of silence felt like a step over an abyss.
Finally, unable to bear it, she spoke first:
"I... I'm pathetic, aren't I?"
She looked at him—directly, almost defiantly, but something entirely different splashed in the depths of her pupils. Dreary, hunted, anticipating the inevitable. The girl's lips trembled, and without waiting for an answer, she continued, already breaking into half-tones, into a bitter, familiar self-deprecating recitative:
"In my Familia, no one cares about me. At all. I'm just empty space to them, expendable material. And those who once... those only ones who tried to help me... they suffered because of me! Do you understand? I dragged the tail behind me! It's because of me that they..."
She cut herself off, squeezing her eyes shut and gritting her teeth. Memories of pain and guilt flooded back with renewed vigor, making it hard to breathe. She said it as if listing points from a long-memorized list. As if it was something taken for granted—like the sunrise, like the cold of the Dungeon, like the greed of adventurers.
Rane remained silent.
She frowned. Her eyebrows drew together, and her fists clenched even tighter. Why is he silent? Why isn't he agreeing? Why isn't he arguing? She expected at least some reaction—the usual irritation, a condescending sneer, a standard "don't talk nonsense." But he just sat there staring into the void, as if her words were smoke that would dissipate on its own.
And it was this very silence that made her freeze when he finally spoke.
"You're all grown up."
Rane's voice sounded so unexpectedly and softly that Lili stopped herself mid-word, gasping for air. She slowly, disbelievingly raised her head.
He sat, slightly turned toward her, a faint, sad smile playing on his lips. Shadows lay in the corners of his eyes.
"W-what?.." was all she could squeeze out, bewildered by this strange answer that completely didn't fit the situation.
"You carry a burden that would break many twice your age," he said. "That's not pathetic. That's..."
He didn't get to finish.
"Mr. Rane!!"
They both, as if on command, turned their heads.
Approaching them from the central avenue was a group of young adventurers. In the front, waving his arm energetically, ran Leo, the red-haired guy. Four others walked slightly behind.
Rane slowly got up from the bench. He adjusted his sword belt, tugged at the edge of his jacket, and, turning to Liliruca, offered her an open palm. The gesture was simple, devoid of any pathos.
The Pallum girl looked at his hand, and something subtly changed in her eyes. For just a fraction of a second. Then she snorted independently and, pointedly ignoring the offered help, lightly jumped off the bench herself. Her cloak billowed behind her back, and her chin jerked up proudly.
"Well then," the corner of Rane's lips twitched upward. "Although not quite."
Lili frowned, throwing him a brief questioning look, but he had already turned around and was walking to meet the approaching group. She hurried after him, throwing her hood over her head with a practiced movement.
When the distance between them shrank to a few meters, Rane could finally make out the entire team. And the first person his gaze landed on was not the joyous Leo at all.
Bell Cranel stood in the center of the group. He had changed—Rane noted this immediately, with the sharp eye of an old warrior. His shoulders had become a bit broader, his posture more confident, and the familiar spark burned in his ruby eyes, fixed directly on him. But there was also something new in that look. Something that made Rane smile internally.
Next to Bell, now in standard gear, stood Carol. Her dark, bottomless eyes stared straight at Rane without blinking, like a snake assessing a potential threat.
Ah, the thought flashed. It seems my friend isn't doing too badly either.
"Mr. Rane!" Leo, out of breath after his jog, stopped in front of them and smiled broadly. "We're here in full force! Just as we agreed! Allow me to introduce..."
He turned to his team and was about to start the introductions, but faltered. The spearman's gaze darted between Rane and Bell, who had frozen opposite each other. Their eyes met, and the air between them seemed to thicken.
"U-uh..." Leo blinked in confusion. "Okay, let's go in order. This is Kyle, our shield-bearer, this is Alice, you already know her, and this is..."
"Long time no see," Rane's voice interrupted him, but there was no rudeness in it. He looked at Bell, and in his tone sounded that very warmth familiar to them both.
Bell held a pause. Squared his shoulders. And then answered—with a challenge behind which sparkled undisguised joy:
"Indeed."
The tension between them was mounting. Leo swallowed nervously. Alice frowned, not understanding what was happening. Even Carol shifted her weight slightly to her other foot, ready to intervene.
And then they bolted from their spots simultaneously.
"Be-e-ell!!"
"Ra-a-ane!!"
Two voices merged into one as they slammed into each other with a swing, squeezing in a bear hug. Rane slapped Bell on the back so hard that he gasped, but immediately laughed—ringingly, genuinely, boyishly.
"Uhm..." Alice blinked rapidly, shifting her gaze from one to the other. "You two know each other?"
Rane finally released the hug and, still smiling—broadly, truly—turned to the other members of Bell's team. He walked up to the stocky guy with the heavy shield on his back and shook his hand firmly.
"Rane, Hestia Familia," he introduced himself. "Nice to meet you, Kyle."
"Likewise," the guy nodded, returning the handshake. His grip was firm, but without challenge—the handshake of a warrior, not a poser. "Leo told us what you did for them. Thank you."
"Don't mention it."
Rane stepped further. Leo and Alice greeted him with short nods, genuine respect reading on both their faces. Stopping opposite Carol, he allowed himself a slight, knowing smirk.
"I see you're not in the maid outfit today."
The girl met his gaze with her usual icy composure. Her voice sounded flat, without a single emotional note:
"That would be impractical in the Dungeon."
"True enough," Rane scoffed and, turning around, pointed his hand to the small hooded figure frozen slightly behind him. "Allow me to introduce you to my Supporter. Liliruca Arde. She is my Supporter and will be accompanying us today."
Bell, following his gesture, frowned, and then his face lit up with recognition.
"Oh! That's the same girl from back then, at the Tower..."
Liliruca stepped forward and bent in a deep, almost mechanical bow. Her voice rang out in its usual, cloyingly polite tone:
"It is a great honor for Lili to accompany the esteemed adventurers from the great Loki Familia. I will try my very best and won't let you down."
Rane cast a sidelong glance at her. The lower edge of her hood hid her face, but he could see how tense her shoulders were. Still the same mask. Still the same wall.
He stepped toward her and, without a word, carefully pulled the hood off her head. Lili flinched, throwing an astonished look at him.
"She's a bit of a shy girl," Rane explained, addressing the group, "but as a companion—beyond praise."
"Mr. Rane!!" indignation mixed with embarrassment rang in Lili's voice. She tried to snatch the edge of the hood from his fingers, but he had already raised his hands to chest level in a joking gesture of surrender. An absolutely goofy, boyish smile shone on his face.
"I'm quiet, I'm quiet."
Leo was the first to break, bursting into laughter.
"If Mr. Rane says so, it must be true!" he stepped toward Liliruca and, to her genuine astonishment, offered his hand. "Glad to be working with you, Liliruca. I'm sure we'll do great together."
Lili froze for a moment, staring at the extended palm. Then her gaze slid to the spearman's face—and found not a drop of falsehood there. Only good nature and genuine interest.
"I..." she stumbled, but quickly pulled herself together and placed her tiny palm in his. "Lili is glad too."
"Welcome to the team," Alice nodded.
"Always nice to see a new face," Kyle agreed.
Even Carol, whose face remained impenetrable, slightly bowed her head in greeting. Lili shifted her gaze from one to the other, and the usual, memorized script of the "humiliated Supporter" was bursting at the seams right in her head. These people... they didn't look at her like she was empty space. Didn't force words through clenched teeth. Didn't...
"Well then," Rane's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "Shall we move out?"
Bell's team nodded and, led by Leo, headed first toward the Tower gates. Rane and Lili followed, staying slightly behind.
"Are they... from the Loki Familia?" Lili asked quietly, looking at the backs of the departing adventurers.
"Oddly enough," Rane replied casually. "That very elite. The strongest faction in Orario."
Lili didn't answer, but he noticed how her fingers nervously fidgeted with the edge of her mantle. This gap between her expectations and reality was too great to digest in a couple of minutes. All the adventurers she had worked with before either despised her or used her. And these...
"The world is incredibly big, Lili," Rane said without slowing his pace. His voice sounded even, almost thoughtful. "You shouldn't measure everyone with the same yardstick. And you certainly shouldn't put them in the same row as the trash you've encountered before."
Lili flinched. Her step slowed down.
"And if you want..." Rane turned back slightly, and sunlight glinted in his amber eyes. "I'll show you just how wide it is."
Lili tripped. Her step broke, and she froze for a moment in the middle of the pavement, looking at Rane's broad back. He just kept walking—unhurriedly, confidently, as if he hadn't said anything special.
Catching up with the group, Lili adjusted her hood with a practiced movement, although this time—only to hide the traitorous blush on her cheeks.