“Could you stop doing that?”

Ziel grabbed the arm of Godach, the leader of their adventuring party The Next Apex, on the very morning they were to challenge the ultimate difficulty dungeon Abbyss

“…What?”

“I’ve stayed quiet because I’m new, but we’re in the same party, aren’t we? Regardless of who carries the baggage, this kind of treatment needs to stop. It’s unpleasant to watch.”

He tightened his grip on Godach’s wrist.

It happened in the entrance hall of the party’s lodging.
Dozens of members of The Next Apex were assembled. In the center of the group stood Ziel and Godach.

A towering man clad in mithril armor—this S-rank party’s leader, the burly forty-something Godach—glared down at Ziel.

In contrast, Ziel’s build was less imposing, but his tall, sharp frame, black hair, and glasses gave him a keen presence. He met Godach’s gaze without flinching.

“You’ve got complaints about how I run things?”

“I’m afraid I do. I didn’t sign up to unconditionally agree with everything you do.”

“Uh, Ziel, it’s fine, really… I don’t mind.”

Standing between them was Klaha, a girl with gray hair and light blue eyes, one of the supporters tasked with mapping the dungeon and handling various chores.

“She says she doesn’t mind.”

“This isn’t about how she feels,” Ziel replied. “It’s about what I can’t stand. Are you planning to keep insulting the supporters, calling them ‘useless’ or ‘deadweight,’ even inside the dungeon? We’re about to challenge the toughest one in the country, open only to S-rank adventurers. Let’s at least start on a good note.”

For ten long seconds, Godach glared at Ziel.
When he saw Ziel wouldn’t back down, he clicked his tongue, yanked his arm away, and spat, “Don’t get cocky, you sword-swinging punk. Once we’re in the dungeon, you’ll follow my orders without question.”

“Understood.”

Godach snorted and turned to the group. “What are you dawdling for? Move out!”

The party scrambled to follow him as he strode out of the lodging. Ziel sighed as he watched them go.

“Um…”

Klaha hesitantly addressed him.

“Thank you for standing up for me, but you didn’t have to…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ziel said, waving a hand dismissively. “Like I said, I just couldn’t hold it in anymore. If anything, I should apologize if you get singled out because of it.”

“No, not at all!”

The two of them followed the others to the waiting carriage. Naturally, they were the last to board.

As the carriage rocked, Klaha spoke up again.

“You were scouted into this party, weren’t you, Ziel?”

Ziel nodded. “I wasn’t even registered as an adventurer before this. But challenging an unexplored dungeon sounded fun.”

“I heard you’re the rightful heir to a famous sword style.”

“Rightful heir… maybe.” Ziel grimaced. “It’s not as grand as it sounds. I was taught some techniques, sure, but there’s no strict form or anything.”

“But you’re the one who slew a dragon in the East. Godach said so when your recruitment was announced.”

“That was me and my master. I’m still traveling to hone my skills to do that kind of thing solo.”

The carriage jolted over uneven stones, making Klaha steady the baggage while Ziel leaned with the motion.

“Sturdy packing,” Ziel remarked with mild surprise.

“This much is basic,” Klaha replied, a bit flustered.

“Not for everyone. I’m terrible at tying things down. Even my armor has to be something simple to buckle. See?”

“I could help you with your armor if you’d like…”

“No need. But what about you? How long have you been at this?”

“Two years. I started at fifteen… Um, may I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“How do I become stronger?”

Ziel blinked, caught off guard. When Klaha looked down, flustered, he asked, “Why ask me?”

“I’ve always admired adventurers. I grew up loving stories about heroes traveling to unknown lands. That’s why I studied the basics—packing, mapping, and such—until I could finally become an adventurer. But once I joined, I wanted to improve my combat skills too…”

“They didn’t train you?” Ziel guessed.

“No. They said, ‘Watch and learn,’ or, ‘If you can’t, you don’t have the talent.’”

“I see.” Ziel nodded thoughtfully. “They don’t develop people internally; they bolster strength by scouting outsiders like me. Efficient, but not great for those already here.”

He considered that this might be his only venture with this party.

Klaha hesitated, then said, “I know it’s selfish, but if you could teach me, I’d do my best to repay you…”

“Anything you do will make you stronger.”

“Huh?”

“Unless you’re injured or sick, everything contributes to overall strength. Fighting, surviving—it’s all connected. The key is to know what cards you have and how to play them.”

“Cards…?”

“You’ll get it in time,” Ziel said.

They continued their conversation until the carriage came to a stop. Ziel turned to Klaha and said casually, “Once this dungeon run is over, I’ll teach you swordsmanship if you’d like.”

“Really?”

“Sure. If I’m good enough for you.”

Klaha’s eyes widened in disbelief. She bowed deeply, and Ziel smiled faintly.

Two hours later, Ziel found himself alone in the dungeon’s depths, his glasses shattered beyond repair.