In the E-class dungeon, Aurelia gasped for air from the blow delivered by her butler—whom she had named Gaius, because he looked and acted like her uncle—always training in the dungeon on a daily basis to increase her strength. She had learned everything in the book given to her by Dargor. Still learning the ropes, she was able to access hidden levels, choosing the best ones with forests and lush greenery. She picked a good spot with minimal monster activity, using her dungeon points to summon a castle as a base, equipped with all she needed for survival. And yes, five-star meals that even kings would drool over were collected daily through the dungeon system. If she craved a gamey meal, she hunted beasts.
Well, enough of that.
Angry at Gaius, she yelled, "Can you not pull your punches? Are you grumpy about that time I slashed you in my cursed mode? I said I'm sorry!"
The butler laughed. "Madam, you do not protect yourself. Your defense is so weak—you'll need to work on that. And about that slash—it basically healed, so I'm not angry. Alright, I'll let you pass with this one. Hit me, if you think you can."
Aurelia, angry, snapped, "You are such a petty person. When I grow strong, I'll beat you until you acknowledge me!"
Gaius smiled. "Madam, you are still far from that. I should increase the intensity of the training so you can level up faster. And you can't die, so we'll kick it up a notch. Now, get ready—I'm going to optimize the dungeon to better suit your training."
In the realm of the gods, in the main hall, a meeting was taking place. Merdron called it to order.
"Attention, gods. We need a volunteer to stay with Aurelia, since she is immortal. Who will be her teacher? The second reason for this meeting is to give a reward to those who participated in the binding of Ferina. Please line up to receive your reward when your name is called."
"Blikin, step forward. Your reward is an armor that can withstand the strikes of that demoness, so you can stand your ground if she escapes again.
"Next, Lazara—this weapon can weaken a god's power. You may name it.
"Next, Illurion—I bestow upon you the Staff of the Eyes of Fire. It will help increase your attack power.
"Next, Dargor—you shall have the Cloak of Darkness. May it aid you in your journey.
"The rest of you will get an open check—write your choice of weapons, etc."
"Now, back to the matter. Who will volunteer?"
Blikin raised his hand. "My lord, I will go." Thinking to himself, If I go, nobody will call me a weak god. She'll probably fear me—and that's how I like it. He chuckled inwardly.
His thoughts were cut short when the goddess of medicine—famously called White Tara, or just Tara—spoke to Merdron. "He will need someone to keep a close eye on him so he doesn't cause trouble for her. I heard she's a cutie, and that's more than enough. I'll go with this pig, so he doesn't do anything suspicious. We all know his history with mortal women—he has more children than goats. So I have to tag along."
Merdron, feeling a bit uncomfortable with her harsh but truthful words, answered, "You may go, and can leave when you like. The only condition is that you go in little forms, with less divine power. I do not want the human worshippers heading into dungeons to seek their god. Anyone who breaks this rule will be punished—by cleaning the cosmos of demonic energy. Is that clear?"
Everyone nodded in agreement.
Tara mumbled to herself, "That punishment is the worst... do you want this cutie to do manual labor? So mean..." She pouted.
Blikin shuddered in fear, remembering the last time he was punished. It still scared him for life. We should never piss off the boss. Fully noted.
At the entrance, a figure of a girl stood shouting, "You all forgot about me!"
Hearing her voice, Lazara giggled. "What's up, bestie? Did you win?"
Nodding her head, she laughed. "I, Sironia, always win a food-eating contest!"
"So, what did I miss?" she asked, hugging her friend like a teddy bear.
"The goddess of food cares what happens in the world of man?"
"Of course I do. Where else can I get free food? Well, that should answer your question. So what's the gossip?"
The two chatted happily. Blikin shuddered again. So these two can act like girls...?
Feeling threatened, he turned around only to see both of them staring at him.
"I swear, I didn't say anything!"
Lazara picked up a club. "You forget we are gods, and we can read each other's thoughts. So we're not girls—what are we to you?"
"You're all monsters! What cute girl carries a mountain as a club and eats like a black hole?!"
Pissed off, the goddesses unleashed all manners of beatings on him. Barely escaping from their torment, Blikin muttered, "I should leave here immediately..."
Tara tapped his back with a menacing smile. "Let this cutie treat your wounds."
Trying to run, small hands grabbed his neck, dragging him to the ICU. Depressed, Blikin said, "I am finished."
MC's POV:
Feeling exhausted from the hellish training, courtesy of Gaius, who thought extreme exercise included "dragon pressing" a boulder that weighed a million tons—and that was just the warm-up—I grumbled. I should've given him a puppet instead.
Mentally, it's not wise to be lonely, but still, I should have some fun. Tomorrow, I'll punish Gaius by turning him into an E-class fluffy bunny monster, sealing his powers, and throwing him into levels filled with high-class adventurers. That would be entertaining—watching him run, or be used for food.
Laughing at my own thoughts, I drifted off to sleep in my comfy bed, dreaming of fluffy animals.
Then—a flick on my wrist woke me up. Half-asleep, I mumbled, "Gaius, stop with your games. Morning's not now."
But the pain lingered.
Angry, ready to tear the prankster to smithereens, I got up—only to see a very small girl in a nurse's outfit standing by the side of my bed, staring at me with big green eyes.
Confused, I asked, "Who are you? And why won't you let me sleep?"
Giggling, she replied, "This cutie's name is Tara. I am your new teacher."
Feeling irritated, I assumed some young adventurer was playing a prank on me. I released my demonic aura to scare her—but was shocked to see the opposite effect. She was laughing at me, with a look of disdain, puffing out her cheeks and speaking in a cute voice.
"My student is angry! What a great way to start the day. That's not nice—you should respect your elders."
Getting angrier, I demanded, "Tell me who you are, kid. I won't repeat myself again. I'll use torture next time."
Giggling coyly, she answered, "I am the goddess of medicine. You know my name—no need for much introduction. I'm here to train you to control the curse... and if you're better, maybe seal that scary lady."
I laughed. "What can you teach me?"
Visibly annoyed, she replied, "Answer me this—can you defeat a goddess with the power of an elder goddess? If yes, I'll leave. If not, you listen to me."
She continued, "I forgot to introduce this dummy. Here's your second teacher—Blikin, come forward."
A boy with messy red hair stepped in and patted me on the head.
"I'll be your combat teacher. My first lesson: we'll increase your perception so it'll be hard to sneak up on you."
"Wait a minute... your name sounds familiar. What's your title as a god?"
Smiling like an old trainer, he answered, "I'm the god of war."
In my head, I laughed. I was expecting someone tougher. This kid doesn't look like what he claims.
"I can hear your thoughts," he said. "And your training will be harsher for calling me the god of war... a kid."
Feeling like they were telling the truth, I apologized to the gods for doubting them. They left the room, telling me to go to sleep. As they exited, they bantered with each other—Tara teasing Blikin with a syringe. I dozed off, thinking... I have a friend.
Morning Training and Beyond
The next dawn, Aurelia awoke to the rich aroma of sizzling bacon and freshly baked bread. After a breakfast that satisfied every craving, she donned her training garb and descended to the practice courtyard, where Gaius and her new tutors—White Tara and Blikin—awaited.
"Tara, Blikin," Aurelia greeted. "Ready for today's lessons?"
Tara smiled brightly. "First, we'll refine your assassin's skills. Stealth, precision, and strategy." She led Aurelia to a row of wooden dummies. "Study their movements," she instructed. "Anticipate their strikes."
Blikin stepped forward, sword in hand. "Now the theory. Silent approach, crippling strike, vanish. Then practice." His eyes gleamed. "But today, I won't pull any punches."
Aurelia's pulse quickened. For Casimir's sake, she thought, steeling herself. With a fierce battle cry, she lunged at Blikin, weaving through his guard with the grace of a shadow. Each parry and thrust honed her instincts until she finally landed her first clean strike.
Tara rushed forward, a knotted handkerchief in hand. "A small cut," she chided gently, "but no worry—I'll heal you in moments." Beside Aurelia's side, she worked her magic as Blikin offered a respectful nod. "Well done."
A Century of Legends
A hundred years slipped past in a tumult of battles and triumphs. Rumors spread of a nobleman's son who, clutching a simple ring, vowed to find his lost love. Each dungeon he conquered added to his legend, and the common folk hailed him as a hero. Yet his heart remained tethered to a promise echoing across the ages: "I will meet you again, Aurelia."
Casimir's Perspective
Casimir strode through the opulent halls of his father's estate—gilded walls hung with priceless tapestries and paintings that outshone any royal gallery. As the prime minister's only son, he enjoyed every luxury, yet none compared to the weight of his secret: he was already married—to a dungeon boss whose location he kept hidden even from his closest kin.
His reflection in a towering mirror struck him as both familiar and alien. I must find her, he resolved. No matter the cost.
He entered his father's study, where the minister looked up from carved oaken desks heavy with scrolls. "My son," the minister began, voice grave, "I must ask a favor."
Casimir inclined his head. "Speak freely."
The minister exhaled wearily. "The king demands you marry his daughter. Refusal carries death."
Casimir's heart thundered. "Father, I am wed already—to Aurelia. Prove it, or you risk my life."
His father's shoulders slumped. "The king is inflexible. Your marriage serves statecraft. You must comply—or we all perish."
Casimir pressed his lips together. "If I must, then I agree—on one condition: that she loves me of her own will, and not for politics."
The minister studied his son with sorrowful eyes. "I will plead your case with the king. But you must heed his decree."
Casimir bowed, steeling himself. "As you command."
As he exited, the minister pushed aside a stack of papers, murmuring, "I have failed him"—a haunting echo of sacrifice for duty.
Thus, Aurelia's journey continued beneath her ever‑shifting dungeon, while Casimir navigated courts of silk and steel—two hearts bound across time, determined to reunite against all odds.