supporter

The Orario sun beat down mercilessly, its rays piercing the skin like invisible hot needles.

In front of the arrogantly towering Babel gate reaching toward the sky, Kazuma Shinrai stood motionless.

His blue gaze—not the friendly blue of the sky, but the cold blue of ice—swept over the crowd of adventurers coming and going. The spear in his grip swayed gently, as if impatient.

"Bell has already gone in," he sighed to the reluctant breeze. His lips formed a thin smile that didn't reach his eyes.

He had deliberately chosen not to invite Bell today. The tenth floor was no playground for beginners, regardless of how rapidly the white-haired boy was developing.

Despite having trained him rigorously, Kazuma's protective instinct still whispered that Bell wasn't ready to face the monsters in those depths.

"I need a supporter," he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he observed the bustling Babel plaza. His sweaty forehead glistened in the light. "Someone who can carry items without whining like a child."

He knew well that solo adventurers like himself needed help carrying their spoils. Small magic crystals and other loot could quickly become a burden that slowed one down. And in the depths of the Dungeon, slowness meant death.

As his thoughts were still circling in search of a solution, a raspy voice that sounded like gravel being rubbed against rusty metal ambushed him from behind.

"Grrrh... Handsome adventurer looking for expedition companion?"

Kazuma turned sharply, his hand reflexively reaching for his spear. What stood before him made his eyebrows rise high.

The creature—at least Kazuma assumed it was a living being—had an appearance that hurt the eyes. Its skin couldn't be called ordinary skin, more accurately described as a rough surface of greenish-gray with a texture like diseased tree bark.

Its matted hair jutted wildly from behind a shabby bandana, looking like plant roots that had gone years without care.

Its face was almost entirely hidden behind a simple wooden mask covered in scratches, leaving only a small gap for a pair of eyes that glinted strangely.

The smell emanating from it was a combination of damp soil, fungi, and whatever else that made Kazuma's nose twitch.

"Who are you?" Kazuma asked directly, not bothering to hide his suspicious tone.

The figure chuckled—a sound like dry leaves being slowly crushed.

"Kehkehkeh~ Grogga is my name, adventurer! Supporter who knows Dungeon like back of own hand, yes-yes-yes, very familiar!" Its head moved oddly when speaking, like a puppet controlled by tangled strings.

Kazuma swallowed the doubt that suddenly appeared and examined Grogga more carefully. Although its appearance might make children cry in fear, the large bag carried on its back clearly indicated its profession as a supporter. And at the moment, that was what Kazuma needed.

"What a coincidence," said Kazuma, still with a cautious voice. "I am indeed looking for a supporter."

"Psssst..." Grogga moved closer with a dragging motion, its voice hissing like hot steam from a kettle.

"Many say Grogga brings BAD LUCK!" Its voice rose several octaves on the last words, making it sound like the screech of a vulture, before clearing its throat and returning to a deep voice.

"Brings bad luck, kukuku~. But handsome adventurer not afraid of ugly Grogga?"

Kazuma snorted, either amused or dismissive. "I don't believe in superstitions."

"So where is brave adventurer heading today? Floor three? Floor five?" asked Grogga while scratching its matted hair, dropping some fragments of something onto the ground.

"Floor ten," answered Kazuma without preamble.

Grogga froze.

Though the mask hid its expression, Kazuma could feel the shocked stare piercing from behind the eyeholes of that mask.

"Floor ten? Hrrrm..." Grogga finally mumbled after an awkward silence.

"New adventurers usually not go straight to floor ten. Too dangerous, yes-yes-yes, very dangerous." There was a suspicious tone in its raspy voice.

"I'm not an ordinary adventurer," replied Kazuma with confidence so dense it bordered on arrogance. "So, are you coming or not? I'll pay according to Guild standards for tenth floor expeditions."

Grogga looked—or more accurately, moved—as if thinking hard. Its head swayed right and left, its strange-skinned hands squeezing the bag.

"Big monsters, big danger, big treasure too, kukuku~" It mumbled to itself, its voice changing tones like someone talking to themselves in a dialogue only they understood. Finally, it raised its masked face. "Grogga will come! But if adventurer dies, Grogga not responsible, yes-yes-yes!"

"Fair," Kazuma nodded briefly. "We leave now."

Without waiting for a response, Kazuma stepped into Babel's gaping mouth, the stone jaws ready to swallow adventurers into darkness.

Grogga followed behind him, its strange chuckle echoing off the cold walls, like the whispers of cave-dwelling demons.

---

The first floor of the Dungeon greeted them with stone corridors stretching like blood vessels in a large, cold body.

Magic crystals attached to the walls emitted dim light that made shadows dance in every corner.

Several groups of novice adventurers were busy hunting small goblins, their faces a mixture of nervousness and pride as they collected their first magic crystals—beginner treasures that would later seem trivial.

"We'll move quickly through the early floors," said Kazuma, deliberately hastening his step. He didn't glance at the goblins sniffing from a distance. "There's no use wasting time here."

"Ohh~ Adventurer not interested in small-small monsters, kukuku~" Grogga laughed oddly, its voice like dry leaves being repeatedly stepped on. "But Grogga must warn, monsters change quickly on lower floors. Orc on floor ten not same as goblin on floor one."

Kazuma only responded with a soft snort.

Left turn, straight, right turn—the Dungeon corridors stretched like tangled intestines.

At a narrow corner, three goblins jumped out from the shadows, their small fangs gleaming hungrily in the dim light.

Two of them held simple wooden clubs, while the third growled with empty hands.

"Hm, nuisances," muttered Kazuma, as calmly as someone finding dust on their shoe.

The first goblin lunged forward, its wooden club swung wildly toward Kazuma's head. But interestingly, Kazuma didn't even touch the spear on his back.

Instead, with a movement so graceful it felt out of place in the dirty Dungeon corridor, Kazuma stepped to the side.

Then, like a dancer following a rhythm only he could hear, his foot shot out in a spinning kick that struck precisely at the unfortunate goblin's head.

CRACK!

The sound of breaking bone echoed in the corridor, followed by a dust explosion as the goblin's body shattered, leaving a small magic crystal blinking dimly on the floor.

The two remaining goblins looked at each other. There was clear hesitation reflecting in their small eyes, but wild instinct pushed them to continue attacking. Both jumped simultaneously, from two different directions.

Kazuma's lips curved in an almost invisible smile. His spear remained neatly stored on his back, as if he considered this fight a warm-up unworthy of his weapon.

With surprising agility for his sturdy build, he jumped high, causing both goblins to collide with each other below him with a pitiful thud.

Before they could recover from their confusion, Kazuma had already landed and in one smooth motion, slammed his right foot into the stomach of the first goblin, then turned and kicked the second goblin with his left foot.

Both were thrown like toys tossed by a tantruming child, then vanished in a sparkling cloud of magical dust.

"Hrrrm..." Grogga mumbled from behind, its head tilted at an angle almost impossible for a normal neck.

"Adventurer not use spear. Why, why, why?" Its voice repeated like a broken recording.

Kazuma collected the three magic crystals with a casual movement then tossed them to Grogga, who caught them with agility that contrasted with its odd appearance.

"These goblins aren't worthy of my spear," answered Kazuma, there was a slight hint of arrogance hidden behind his flat words.

"And sometimes, hands and feet are more efficient against small monsters."

"Interesting technique," commented Grogga. Though covered by a mask, there was something in the way it tilted its head that showed deep interest.

"Movement like flowing water. Grogga never see adventurer fight like that before, kukuku~"

Kazuma only shrugged as if the praise meant nothing and continued the journey.

"We still have nine more floors to pass. Save your comments." But as he walked, he realized that Grogga's gaze upon him had changed.

---

Their journey continued through floors two to seven with an almost monotonous rhythm.

Kazuma handled each monster with cold efficiency—sometimes using his spear for larger monsters like the Killer Ant on floor seven, but more often relying only on his bare hands and accurate, deadly kicks.

"Adventurer not like Grogga expected," said Grogga as they rested briefly at the border between floors seven and eight.

They sat on a large rock, backs facing opposite directions to watch for possible surprise attacks. "Movement too smooth for new adventurer. Who taught adventurer to fight like that?"

Kazuma took a measured sip from his water bottle before answering. "Kyokushin." His voice sounded distant, as if his thoughts were elsewhere, perhaps in another time.

"Kyoku... what?" Grogga tilted its head in obvious confusion, its wooden mask creaking softly with the movement.

"Kyokushin. A fighting art," answered Kazuma briefly, not sharing that it was a martial art from the world he had left behind.

"Psssst... Grogga never heard of that fighting art in Orario," Grogga whispered, its voice changing to a suspicious hiss.

Similar to a snake, yes a snake.

"Indeed," Kazuma stood with a too-sudden movement, as if wanting to cut off the topic of conversation.

"Let's continue. Floors eight and nine are known for Needle Rabbits. We must be more vigilant."

Grogga nodded and rose to follow, the large bag on its back jingling softly with the magic crystals beginning to accumulate.

Silently, Kazuma acknowledged that although strange and behaving eccentrically, this supporter was quite competent. He followed instructions without many questions and had not once complained about the increasingly heavy bag.

---

Floor eight welcomed them with a different atmosphere. Its corridors were narrower, forming a labyrinth with sharp turns that made one dizzy.

The rock formations here were denser, creating many blind spots perfect for ambushes. Kazuma stepped cautiously, every muscle in his body ready to react to danger.

"Needle Rabbits usually attack in groups," said Kazuma softly, his voice barely audible in the quiet corridor. "They're small but dangerous with the horns on their heads."

"Yes-yes-yes," nodded Grogga, its head movement too enthusiastic for a conversation about dangerous monsters. "Many adventurers severely injured because underestimate these small rabbits. Their horns contain poison that makes wounds heal slowly. But Grogga sure adventurer already know, right? Kukuku~"

Kazuma turned slightly, his eyes narrowing curiously. This was the first time Grogga had mentioned specific details about a monster that he hadn't mentioned first.

Before he could comment, a soft rustling sound was heard from a small cave beside them—the sound of small claws scratching stone.

Kazuma immediately assumed a fighting stance, his spear now ready in hand, his blue eyes gleaming warily in the dim crystal light.

From the darkness of the cave emerged one, two, then five Needle Rabbits—small creatures with pure white fur that would look adorable if not for the sharp horns protruding from their heads like porcupine quills.

"Grogga, back off," ordered Kazuma, his voice low and full of authority.

The first Needle Rabbit jumped, its small body shooting like a bullet toward Kazuma, its poison-filled horn ready to pierce.

But Kazuma, with experience from who knows where, moved with perfect precision.

His spear swung in a smooth sweeping motion, hitting the rabbit from the side so it didn't touch the spine. The small monster was thrown against the wall, hitting the stone hard before vanishing into dust and crystal.

Two other Needle Rabbits attacked almost simultaneously from different angles, a pack hunting strategy surprising for monsters so small.

Kazuma jumped back, his body moving with an elegance that contrasted with the brutal atmosphere of the battle.

He let the two nearly collide in mid-air before swinging his spear in one perfect curved motion, sweeping both at once.

The two remaining rabbits were more careful. They moved around Kazuma like wolves surrounding prey, looking for gaps in his defense.

Their instincts were sharper than the goblins of the upper floors. One tried a diversion tactic, jumping toward Kazuma's feet while the other prepared to attack from behind.

But Kazuma moved as if he could see in all directions at once.

He spun with amazing speed, his right foot kicking the first rabbit into the air before the tip of his spear stabbed precisely, ending the poor monster's life before it could land again.

The last Needle Rabbit, perhaps sensing danger, jumped high—not toward Kazuma, but upward, a surprising strategy for a creature that usually attacks directly.

From the height, it dropped itself toward Kazuma's head, its horn ready to pierce.

"Clever," muttered Kazuma, almost sounding impressed. But his speed remained superior. With one step to the side and a perfect body rotation, he let the monster fall past him, and as the rabbit landed, his spear was already waiting, piercing precisely in the middle of its small body.

"Grrrrh," Grogga mumbled from its hiding place behind a large rock. There was an undisguised note of admiration in its raspy voice. "Adventurer has met Needle Rabbits before, yes? Movement very trained."

"Yes," answered Kazuma briefly while collecting the magic crystals and tossing them to Grogga, who caught them deftly. "But usually there are more of them than this. We're lucky to only meet five."

"Many more on floor nine," Grogga reminded, its voice now sounding like a sincere warning, not just nonsense from a typical supporter.

"And there they group in larger numbers, kukuku~"

Kazuma nodded briefly, hanging his spear back on his back with one smooth motion. "We'll be careful."

---

Grogga's prediction proved correct. Floor nine welcomed them in an unfriendly way—a much larger group of Needle Rabbits surrounded them from all directions in a wide oval room.

At least twelve pairs of red eyes gleamed hungrily, still fewer than he had faced before.

Their gleaming horns reminded one of a collection of small knives ready to slice.

"Psssst..." Grogga hissed, its tone clearly worried this time.

"This not good. Too many to fight one by one." There was a strange tremor in its voice, as if it was genuinely concerned for Kazuma's safety.

Kazuma didn't answer. His sharp eyes swept the room, assessing the situation with unnatural calmness.

He observed the formation of the rabbits as if examining a chess pattern, calculating movements and predicting their attacks.

"Grogga, crouch behind me and don't move," he finally ordered, his voice low but firm.

Without waiting for an answer, Kazuma took position with the spear in his right hand.

Different from previous battles, his face now showed total concentration—his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes narrowed.

The small monsters around them seemed to sense that change; some backed away a step, but pack instinct pushed them to keep attacking.

The first Needle Rabbit jumped, followed by the second and third almost without pause, like a deadly white thorny rain.

And Kazuma began to dance.

There was no more accurate description for the movement he performed. With the spear as an extension of his body, he spun, jumped, dived, and swept—each movement flowing into the next without visible pause.

His spear drew silver circles in the air, creating a moving fortress that protected him and Grogga from the relentless attacks.

"Hrrrm..." Grogga was amazed, its eyes shadowed by the mask not leaving Kazuma's figure who moved like a storm wind amidst the rain of thorns.

There was something almost hypnotic in the way Kazuma fought—as if he existed in a different time dimension from those monsters.

Kazuma's spear moved so fast it looked like flashes of light leaving silver traces in the air, stabbing and sweeping those monsters in an unpredictable yet perfect rhythm.

No wasted movement, no wasted energy. Each attack hit precisely, each body rotation avoided the poisonous thorns with amazing precision.

When the last rabbit tried to escape, as if finally realizing they were facing a predator far beyond their league, Kazuma threw his spear with unreasonable strength and accuracy.

The weapon shot like lightning, embedding precisely in the center of the small monster's body, permanently stopping its escape.

The room that was previously full of venomous thorn threats now only left monster dust and dozens of gleaming magic crystals on the cold stone floor.

"Amazing," mumbled Grogga, its deep voice sounding softer than usual, almost like pure admiration.

"New adventurer impossible to fight like that."

Kazuma took his spear and cleaned its tip with a cloth he took from his pocket, a movement that seemed too casual after such a spectacular battle.

"I've practiced a lot," he answered simply, as if that explained his clearly unusual abilities.

"No," Grogga shook its head hard, its wooden mask creaking with that sudden movement.

"Not just practice. Something different about adventurer. Movement too... perfect." There was an investigative tone in its raspy voice.

Kazuma just shrugged, an attitude of seeming not to care. "Collect the crystals. We're almost at floor ten."

Grogga picked up the magic crystals in uncomfortable silence, but Kazuma could feel the supporter's curious gaze piercing his back like an ice knife.

There was intelligence behind that wooden mask and strange behavior—something that might not be noticed by other adventurers, but was clearly caught by Kazuma.

---

The tenth floor of the Dungeon felt like entering another world.

The air was more stuffy and smelled like a mixture of rusted iron and the faint scent of rotting flesh. Its corridors were much wider, as if designed for creatures far larger than humans. The light from magic crystals on the walls felt dimmer, creating large shadow areas where anything could hide.

There was a strange pressure floating in the air—not something that could be felt by the skin, but more like a psychological burden that whispered danger into the bone marrow.

"We've arrived," said Kazuma, his voice a bit lower, almost like a careful whisper. "Floor ten, home of the Orcs."