Is It Wrong to Want Luxury in a Dungeon? [14]

A Month in and I Just Found Out I Was Scammed

The candlelight flickered, casting shifting shadows across the walls of Loki’s office. Calista lay face-down on the goddess’s couch, arms crossed under her chin, tunic hiked up just enough to expose her bare back.

She hated this part.

It wasn’t the Falna update itself—that part actually felt nice, a warm pulse running through her body as her divine blessing adjusted to reflect her growth. No, what she hated was—

A hand squeezed her waist.

She twitched. “Loki.”

A low chuckle. “What?”

“Hands. Off. The merchandise.”

“Mmm, but the merchandise is lookin’ real fine these days.” Loki gave her hip a playful pat, her grin practically audible. “Yer muscles are firmer than last time. Been trainin’ hard, huh?”

Calista gritted her teeth and smacked the offending hand away. “You are such a pervy old man.”

Loki snickered but didn’t deny it. Of course she didn’t.

Calista should’ve expected this. Everyone in the Loki Familia knew that their goddess had a type, and that type was every woman under her banner. If you were a female adventurer in this Familia, Loki would find a way to harass you at some point—whether it was suggestive comments, wandering hands, or outright groping.

It was an open secret.

And it was infuriating.

Calista glared at her over her shoulder. “I swear, one of these days, someone’s gonna stab you for this.”

“Pfft. Ain’t the first time someone’s tried.” Loki plopped herself down beside her, still grinning like an absolute menace. “Now, hold still, will ya?”

She pulled a small dagger from her belt and pricked her own thumb without hesitation. A single drop of divine blood welled up from the cut, and she swiped it onto Calista’s back, tracing the glowing symbols of her Falna.

The moment the update started, a wave of warmth spread through Calista’s body, like a gentle pulse of energy rolling beneath her skin. It was comforting in a way she couldn’t describe, as if the very foundation of her being was shifting to accommodate her growth.

Loki’s expression changed as she read the results.

Then she grinned.

“…Well, well, well. Would ya look at that.”

Calista lifted her head slightly. “What?”

Loki flipped the parchment around, tapping a finger against the stats.

✦ Strength : H-147 -> G-211
✦ Endurance : I-48 -> I-62
✦ Dexterity : H-176 -> G-232
✦ Agility : G-261 -> F-318
✦ Magic : I-46 -> I-95

And then there was Endurance.

Still pathetic.

Loki burst into laughter.

“AHAHA! Ya really don’t like gettin’ hit, huh?!”

Calista’s eye twitched.

The sheer audacity.

“I fight with a spear for a reason,” she said flatly.

Loki was still cackling. “Oh man, even yer faceplants ain’t doin’ much for ya. Poor lil’ Endurance is fightin’ for its life.”

Calista let her head drop onto the couch with a thud.

This was bullshit.

Calista refused to accept this.

For a month, she had been pushing herself to the brink—sparring with Finn, running drills with Tione and Tiona, diving into the Dungeon every damn day. She had collapsed from Mind Zero more times than she cared to count, her body battered, exhausted, and aching, and yet—

Her Endurance had barely budged.

Unbelievable.

“This system is rigged,” she muttered into the couch.

Loki snorted. “Nah, ya just don’t like gettin’ hit.” She tapped the paper again. “Yer Strength? Shootin’ up. Dexterity? Real nice. Agility? Through the roof. Magic’s comin’ along fine, too.” Then she grinned. “But Endurance? A tragedy.”

Calista lifted her head, glaring. “Explain.”

Loki leaned back, waving a hand. “Ain’t much to explain. Endurance don’t grow from runnin’ around and pokin’ goblins with a spear. Ya gotta get hit. A lot.”

Calista scowled. “That sounds stupid.”

The goddess grinned wider. “It’s how it works, Princess. Ya wanna get stronger? Take a few more punches to the face.”

“No, thanks.”

Loki laughed. “See? That’s why yer stat ain’t movin’!”

Then, she smirked and leaned in, tapping the parchment again. “But y’know, at the rate yer goin’… ya keep this up, and ya might just break Ais’s record for fastest level-up.”

Calista blinked.

Wait.

Ais’s record?

Loki waggled her eyebrows. “Interestin’, huh? I wonder what our lil’ Sword Princess’ll think when she finds out some upstart Level 1 is breathin’ down her neck?”

Calista’s lips parted—then curled into a slow, satisfied smirk.

Now that was a goal worth chasing.

She propped herself up on her elbows, curiosity lighting up her dark blue eyes. “Alright, so what exactly does it take to level up? Just beating monsters isn’t enough, right?”

Loki grinned, stretching her arms behind her head. “That’s right, Callie.”

Calista rolled her eyes at the nickname, but Loki kept going.

“Ya can kill a million goblins, but if ya ain’t got the right kinda excelia, ya ain’t goin’ nowhere. Rankin’ up ain’t just about fightin’—ya gotta push past yer limits, take on real challenges, do somethin’ extraordinary. The Falna rewards risk and ambition, not grindin’ away like some mindless schmuck.”

Calista frowned. “So… what exactly are the conditions?”

Loki ticked them off on her fingers. “One, ya need at least D-rank in one of yer basic abilities. Two, ya gotta rack up enough high-rank excelia—overflowin’ yer container, basically. That’s the part that separates real adventurers from scrubs. If yer just wailin’ on weaklings, the excelia ya get ain’t worth squat.”

Calista hummed, tapping her fingers against the couch. “So taking on tougher monsters, stronger opponents, life-or-death situations—that’s what really counts?”

“Bingo.” Loki shot her finger guns. “The Falna sees what ya’re doin’ and adjusts yer growth accordingly. That’s why reckless maniacs tend to rank up faster. They throw themselves into the fire and come out tempered like a good ol’ Hephaestus blade.”

Calista’s smirk was razor-sharp. “Sounds like my kind of challenge.”

Loki snorted. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get too cocky yet. Even if ya hit the requirements, levelin’ up ain’t automatic. I gotta make the call to rank ya up.”

That made Calista pause. “Wait—so gods choose when we level up?”

“Yep.” Loki grinned. “Some familias, the weaker ones, rank up their people the moment they qualify. But strong familias? They play it smart. Hold off on levelin’ up so their adventurers can max out their stats first.”

Calista’s brows furrowed. “Why?”

Loki waved a hand. “Cuz once ya level up, yer stats reset on paper. Ya get a huge boost in power, yeah, but a maxed-out Level 1 is stronger as a fresh Level 2. If ya wait an’ push yer stats higher, yer startin’ point for the next level is even better. It’s a strategy.”

Calista sat up fully, processing that. “So… Ais. What were her stats like when she leveled up?”

Loki’s smirk widened as she grabbed a nearby parchment, scribbled something down, then flipped it around for Calista to see.

C609 | D580 | B798 | A818 | H100

Calista whistled. “Not bad. So she had A-rank Agility and B-rank Dexterity before ranking up?”

Loki nodded. “Ais’s style is all about speed an’ precision. Just like you, Callie.”

Calista smirked at that but didn’t take the bait. Instead, she tapped the parchment. “What’s the highest a stat can go?”

“S-999.” Loki grinned. “That’s the limit for a normal adventurer."

Calista leaned back, considering. “So if I wanna be as strong as possible before leveling up, I should try to hit S-rank in something first?”

Loki chuckled. “Oh, ya could try, but lemme tell ya—gettin’ a stat to S-999 takes a helluva lotta work. Most folks don’t even get close before their excelia maxes out and forces a level-up.”

Calista’s eyes gleamed. “Sounds like a challenge.”

Loki cackled. “Oh man, I knew you’d say that.”

But Loki clapped her hands together. “Anyway! Back to more important matters—”

Calista’s eye twitched. “If you say one more thing—”

Loki smirked.

“So how’s trainin’ with Finn goin’?”

Calista threw a pillow at her.

Loki cackled.

---

Magic was a pain in the ass.

Calista sat cross-legged on the training grounds of Twilight Manor, her back perfectly straight only because Riveria would slap her if it wasn’t. A large spell circle had been drawn beneath her, the chalk lines meticulous. Across from her, Riveria Ljos Alf stood, her expression carved from stone, while Lefiya Viridis sat primly at her side, the picture of discipline—if you ignored the fact that she was staring holes into Calista.

Riveria lifted her chin slightly. “Begin.”

Calista sighed dramatically and lifted a hand, half-lidding her eyes for extra effect. “For you, my lady? Anything.”

Riveria didn’t react. Lefiya turned pink.

A win, in Calista’s book.

She took a deep breath, focusing on the strange warm energy that coiled deep within her. It always felt like trying to grasp mist—slipping between her fingers if she held on too tightly. Magic wasn’t like spearplay, where she could rely on instinct and motion. It was structure. Rules.

She hated rules.

But she chanted anyway.

"O sacred light, weave thy radiance into—"

SMACK.

A sharp slap to the back of her head made her bite her tongue.

“Your pronunciation was sloppy,” Riveria said, as calm as ever. “Again.”

Calista gritted her teeth. “That was my skull.”

Riveria gave her a long, unimpressed look. “Your skull will recover.”

Calista huffed.

Lefiya winced in sympathy. “Um, maybe you should—”

Calista turned to her and smiled sweetly. “Lefiya, my darling, I am trying my absolute best.”

Lefiya immediately short-circuited. “I-I, um, well—”

Riveria pinched the bridge of her nose. “Less flirting. More casting.”

Calista sighed like she was being forced into hard labor. “You’re both so demanding.”

Lefiya looked like she wanted to argue.

Riveria just stared.

Calista took that as a cue to shut up and try again.

...

Two Hours Later

Calista’s head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton.

Riveria was still standing there, unmoving, as if watching her suffer was a completely normal afternoon activity.

Lefiya was staring at her like a concerned nurse.

“You have the basics down,” Riveria finally said, as if that was some grand achievement. “But you lack patience. You rush the process, and your control suffers for it.”

Calista flopped onto her back. “Not really my style.”

Riveria gave her a long stare.

Calista tilted her head at her. “Admit it. You’re impressed I haven’t blown myself up yet.”

Riveria didn’t blink.

“…Not particularly.”

Lefiya giggled.

Calista groaned. “You elves are impossible.”

Riveria turned to Lefiya. “Make sure she rests. She has no control over her Mind yet, and I don’t want her collapsing in the hallways again.”

Lefiya nodded dutifully. “Of course, Lady Riveria.”

Calista raised a lazy hand. “I can hear you, you know.”

“Yes,” Riveria said. “And yet, you refuse to listen.”

Then, without another word, she left.

Calista watched her go, pursing her lips.

“…I kinda like her.”

Lefiya looked appalled. “How?! She just—”

“She’s got standards.”

Lefiya groaned.

---

Despite the soul-draining experience of magic training, sparring with Finn Deimne was something Calista actually enjoyed.

He was disciplined, brutal, and always a step ahead. Unlike Riveria, who drilled control and refinement, Finn’s training was aggression, precision, and efficiency.

And Calista thrived on it.

Most of their sessions consisted of spear drills, dodging exercises, and high-speed sparring. Calista had lost count of how many times she had been sent flying, flipped over, or outmaneuvered.

Though, to be fair, she made him take a step back once. A true achievement.

The best part?

Tione was losing her goddamn mind.

...

Act One: Denial.

At first, Tione tried to be subtle.

She’d pretend to be busy nearby—adjusting her gear, cleaning weapons, stretching—but she was so bad at it.

Act Two: Visible Rage.

Whenever Finn corrected Calista’s form, Tione’s eye twitched.
Whenever Calista laughed at Finn’s comments, Tione’s fist clenched.
Whenever Calista so much as smirked in Finn’s direction, Tione’s aura darkened.

Act Three: Snapping. Literally.

...

Calista had been enjoying herself. Sparring, learning, getting her ass kicked.

But she wanted more.

More reactions.

More rage.

More Tione suffering.

So after one particularly intense match, she wiped a thin layer of sweat from her brow, turned toward Finn, and decided to do something bold.

She stepped forward with the full intention of draping herself over his shoulder—purely to get under Tione’s skin.

She had not, however, factored in the post-spar exhaustion.

The moment she put weight on her leg—her knee buckled.

And before she could even process what was happening—

She collapsed straight onto Finn.

And by onto Finn, she meant she practically engulfed him.

Finn was 3’11.

Calista was 5’9.

This wasn’t just a fall—this was a full-scale catastrophe.

She tried to catch herself, but it was too late.

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her forehead nearly bonking into his, her entire body nearly taking him down with her.

For one perfect, horrifying moment, she was fully on top of him.

The training field went dead silent.

Tione’s soul left her body.

Finn, to his eternal credit, did not flinch.

Calista, face pressed into his shoulder, did the only logical thing.

She went all in.

Slowly—slowly—she turned her head, voice as silky as possible.

“…Wow, Captain.” Her fingers curled slightly against his back. “Thank you for catching me.”

Absolute chaos.

Tione’s breath hitched.

Cruz choked on air.

Raul’s entire face drained of color.

Narvi visibly backed up, as if avoiding the inevitable explosion.

Lefiya, in the distance, prayed to every god who would listen.

Tione twitched.

Calista could feel her rising fury, the pure unfiltered rage rolling off her like a cursed aura.

So, naturally—

She smirked against Finn’s shoulder.

“You know the way you handle your pole is impressive, Captain,” she purred.

Finn, expression unreadable, slowly detached her arms and helped her stand properly. His hands barely gripped her forearms, like touching her too much would set off a nuclear reaction.

And then, without a single change in his expression—

“Let’s focus.”

Calista grinned.

“Of course, Captain.”

Tione’s training sword snapped in half.

Maybe she'd gone too far.

---

The Dungeon had become Calista’s second home.

Over the past month, she had spent every day inside its twisting corridors, sharpening her skills, testing her reflexes, and—most importantly—avoiding getting hit at all costs.

After the first week, Raul finally caved.

He had spent days hovering, lecturing, warning them about every possible danger the Dungeon had to offer. But after Lefiya proved she could handle herself—and Calista proved she wouldn’t throw herself into mortal peril …too much—he reluctantly let them go without him, so long as they stayed above Floor 6.

…Of course, that didn’t stop him from checking in every chance he got.

Still, being part of the Loki Familia wasn’t just about Dungeon runs and training.

---

The common area of Twilight Manor was bustling with adventurers unwinding after another day of training, Dungeon diving, or—in Calista’s case—avoiding work.

She was lounging on a couch, stretching her legs out comfortably when Elfy Colette plopped down next to her.

Elfy was all bright smiles and easy charm, radiating the kind of casual confidence that made her an effortless conversationalist.

“You know,” Elfy said, crossing her legs, “I was kind of surprised when I heard you and Lefiya have been spending so much time together.”

Calista arched a brow. “Oh?”

Elfy grinned. “Yeah. I mean, she’s always been the diligent, hardworking type, and you… well.”

Calista smirked. “Go on.”

Elfy chuckled. “You seem like the type to pay people to do your work.”

Calista placed a hand over her chest, gasping dramatically. “How dare you! I am a dedicated and hard-working—”

Elfy snorted. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sure.”

Calista grinned. “So, are you a fan of our cute little elf?”

“Oh, I am.” Elfy nodded, her usual cheer undisturbed. “I admire her a lot. I could never handle Riveria’s training the way she does. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be realistic.” She smiled knowingly. “Lefiya gets flustered too easily, and you love pushing people’s buttons.”

Calista leaned back, grinning wider. “Guilty as charged.”

Elfy laughed. “Just don’t break her, alright?”

Calista waved a hand. “Please, I need her alive. Otherwise, Riveria will focus on only training me, and that sounds awful.”

Elfy giggled. “Fair enough.”

---

A few days later, Calista was loitering near the courtyard when she spotted Anakitty and Raul.

They were talking near the weapons rack, Raul looking as stressed as usual, Anakitty nodding along with an amused smile.

Calista squinted.

Then, with zero hesitation, she strolled up to them and dropped the bomb.

“So,” she said casually, “are you two a couple, or what?”

Raul choked.

Anakitty barely blinked.

“No,” she said simply.

Calista tilted her head. “You sure?”

Raul was still dying.

“We’re teammates,” Anakitty said, tone completely even.

Calista squinted harder.

“Uh-huh.”

“We’re not dating.”

“Okay, but…” Calista gestured vaguely. “Raul talks about you a lot”

“We grew up together.”

Raul finally recovered enough to speak. “Anakitty, please stop her.”

Anakitty grinned. “Oh no. This is fun.”

Calista grinned back.

Raul visibly regretted every decision that led to this moment.

---

Cruz did not approve of Calista.

She could see it in his eyes every time she did something reckless, mildly illegal, or vaguely dangerous.

Which was often.

One afternoon, after a training session, Cruz sat next to her, crossed his arms, and sighed.

“I need to ask,” he started, dead serious.

Calista blinked at him. “Ask what?”

Cruz leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “Do you have survival instincts?”

Calista grinned. “Of course I do.”

Cruz stared.

“…I don’t believe you.”

Calista placed a hand over her heart, gasping. “How could you say such a thing?”

Cruz was unimpressed. “You—”

“Cruz,” she interrupted, placing a gentle hand on his arm, lowering her voice dramatically. “Do you worry about me?”

Cruz’s entire body tensed.

“I—”

“You do, don’t you?” Calista’s grin turned wicked. “Oh, Cruz, I never knew you cared so much.”

Narvi, watching from a safe distance, choked on his drink.

Cruz’s face turned red. “That’s not—!”

Calista leaned in slightly. “Are you trying to tell me that all this time, you’ve been—”

“No,” Cruz snapped.

Calista giggled. “Oh, don’t be shy.”

Cruz stood up immediately. “I’m leaving.”

Narvi, still laughing, clapped him on the back. “She got you, man.”

Cruz shot him a betrayed look.

Calista waved sweetly. “Come back soon, darling~”

Cruz did not come back soon.

---

Ais Wallenstein had always been a mystery.

Even before Calista joined the Loki Familia, the stories about her were everywhere—the Sword Princess, the record holder for the fastest rank ups, the golden warrior who was as skilled as she was beautiful.

But in the past month, Calista had barely seen her.

It wasn’t like she expected Ais to be hanging around, but after she had watched Finn test Calista in a sparring match—she had vanished.

At first, Calista didn’t think much of it.

Then she noticed.

Ais wasn’t at breakfast.
Ais wasn’t in the training yard.
Ais wasn’t in Twilight Manor at all.

One evening, while stretching in the common area, Calista finally brought it up.

“So, Ais got lost in the Dungeon, or what?”

Tiona, sprawled on a couch, snorted. “Nope. Just training.”

Tione, arms crossed, nodded. “She’s been in the Dungeon almost nonstop since Finn’s match with you.”

Calista blinked. “Huh.”

Tiona grinned. “What, you miss her?”

Calista smirked. “Just wondering, I am starting to miss her.”

Tione rolled her eyes. “Drama queen.”

Calista hummed.

She had been in the Loki Familia long enough to understand one thing—Ais wasn’t just strong. She was dedicated.

Ais must have seen something that motivated her—something that made her want to improve, and she had done what she always did.

She had gone straight to the Dungeon.

It wasn’t about competition or proving anything. It was just how she was.

A small, amused smile curled at Calista’s lips.

She kind of respected that.

---

As much as Calista enjoyed stirring chaos and messing with people, there was one thing everyone in Loki Familia took seriously—

Expeditions.

For the past few weeks, the atmosphere in Twilight Manor had shifted. Conversations became more focused. Training sessions grew more intense. Supplies were being counted and recounted.

A major expedition was coming.

Calista could tell just from the way the veterans moved.

Finn was checking logistics every morning.
Riveria was reviewing spell formations with the mages.
Gareth was leading combat drills, barking orders like a drill sergeant.

It was a well-oiled machine, and she wasn’t part of it.

Not yet.

She had half-expected Loki to pull her aside and say something like “Alright, kid, ya get to come along, but try not to die.”

But instead, it was Raul who sat her down after dinner one night, body tensed like he was preparing for an argument.

“You know you and Lefiya aren’t coming, right?” he said.

Calista raised an eyebrow. “Obviously.”

Raul blinked. “…Oh.”

“What?”

“I just thought you’d argue.”

Calista snorted. “And say what? ‘I deserve to go fight deep-floor monsters despite being Level 1?’”

Raul paused. “I mean… yeah?”

Calista grinned. “Nah. I’m reckless, not stupid.”

Raul visibly relaxed. “Oh, thank the gods.”

Calista leaned back against her chair. “Besides, I’m having too much fun training.”

Which was true.

She still had a lot to learn before she went anywhere near the deep floors.

For now, she was content to watch, listen, and prepare.

She’d get her turn soon enough.

However she might have been fine with being left behind, but Lefiya?

Absolutely not.

“She’s pouting again,” Elfy whispered as they watched Lefiya sit in the common area, arms crossed, glaring at nothing.

Calista, who was enjoying a snack, nudged Elfy. “Go tease her.”

Elfy grinned. “I like the way you think.”

She leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand. “Aww, Lefiya, don’t be sad~”

Lefiya turned red immediately. “I am not sad!”

“You kinda are,” Elfy teased. “You’ve been making that face all week.”

Calista smirked. “The face of an elf who just realized she’s not getting an invitation to the fancy, exclusive murder party.”

Lefiya whipped around. “It’s not a murder party!”

Calista laughed.

---

Orario was as lively as ever. Merchants called out their wares, adventurers hurried through the streets, and the looming presence of Babel Tower cast its endless shadow over the city.

Calista was in a good mood.

A morning Guild visit, a light stroll through the city, and soon, a proper Dungeon run?

What more could she ask for?

Lefiya, on the other hand, was clearly losing patience.

“I still can’t believe you did that,” she muttered, rubbing her temples as they walked.

Calista grinned. “What? It was a perfectly reasonable offer.”

Lefiya stared. “You literally asked Rose Fannett on a date.”

---

Guild clerk Rose Fannett had not looked pleased when Calista strolled up to the counter, her most charming smile in place.

“Oh, Miss Fannett,” Calista had said smoothly, leaning against the counter. “You look especially radiant today.”

Rose didn’t blink. “What do you want?”

Calista grinned wider. “Your company.”

Rose’s golden eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“I just think we’d have a lovely evening together,” Calista continued, as if she weren’t actively committing social terrorism. “Just you, me, a nice meal, maybe a bottle of wine—”

Lefiya, visibly cringing, whispered under her breath, “Please stop.”

Rose’s expression remained stone cold.

“…No.”

Calista gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. “You wound me.”

Rose sighed. “Just go.”

Calista wagged a finger. “You didn’t say ‘never.’”

Rose’s brow twitched. “Get. Out.”

Lefiya dragged Calista away before she could push her luck further.

...

“I don’t understand why you insist on tormenting her,” Lefiya huffed as they neared the Dungeon entrance.

Calista shrugged. “It builds character.”

“For who?!”

“Both of us.”

Lefiya groaned.

But then, as they passed through the massive stone entrance, she suddenly stopped.

Calista glanced over. “Hmm?”

Lefiya turned to her, eyes sharp.

“Alright,” she said, tone leaving no room for argument.

Calista raised a brow. “Oh?”

“This time,” Lefiya continued, crossing her arms, “you are gathering the magic stones yourself.”

Calista blinked.

Then grinned.

“Oh?” she purred. “Finally taking charge? I like it.”

Lefiya’s eye twitched. “Look I'm a mage, not a supporter.”

A beat of silence.

Calista’s grin froze.

Slowly, deliberately, she tilted her head. “A what?”

Lefiya’s soul left her body.

Calista stared at her.

Lefiya’s brain was short-circuiting.

Oh no.
Oh no, no, no.

She had slipped.

Raul had explicitly told everyone not to tell Calista what a supporter was.

His exact words: “If we don’t tell her, maybe she’ll just do the work herself eventually.”

And now—

Lefiya had just let it slip.

She had to escape.

She could feel Calista’s grin burning into the back of her head, her curiosity sharpening like a blade.

“Lefiya~” Calista drawled, stepping forward. “You wouldn’t be hiding something from me, would you?”

Lefiya’s entire body tensed.

“Nope! Nothing! Let’s go into the Dungeon!”

She turned on her heel—ready to flee.

And that was when—

A new voice cut in.

“Hi, adventurer!”

Lefiya froze.

Calista blinked.

A tiny figure stood just off to the side, grinning up at them with all the charm of a back-alley merchant about to close a very shady deal.

She had short, messy chestnut colored hair, shifty chestnut eyes, and an oversized cloak that looked far too big for her small frame.

“Are you looking for a supporter?” she asked, voice silky smooth.

Calista perked up immediately.

“Why yes,” she said, turning toward the girl with renewed interest.

Lefiya let out a tiny, strangled sound.

It's over.

The small girl—whoever she was—grinned wider, sensing an easy customer.

“A strong adventurer like yourself,” she began, voice practiced and smooth, “shouldn’t waste time on menial labor! Your focus should be on battle—while I handle the burdens you shouldn’t bear.”

Calista raised an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

The girl stepped closer, eyes shining with the enthusiasm of a true professional.

“Experienced, efficient, and utterly reliable,” she continued. “I carve magic stones, haul loot, and navigate with expertise!”

Calista’s interest piqued.

Lefiya, meanwhile, looked like she wanted to crawl into the earth and die.

The girl pressed on.

“Best rates in Orario,” she promised. “And for a first-time client, I’ll even offer a discount!”

Calista’s grin widened.

“Finally,” she said, gleefully, “someone who understands me.”

Lefiya’s soul left her body.

She had failed.
She had completely and utterly failed.

Calista, pleased with herself, turned back to the small girl.

“Well then,” she said, clasping her hands together. “Tell me more.”

---

A/N: oh noes who is this small girl? where's her parents? is Calista gonna be a mommy

also cruz and the other people are loki familia members, second string!