Liliruca stirred beneath the thin blanket, her limbs heavy, as if weighed down by fatigue woven into her bones. A dull ache throbbed behind her eyes. She blinked slowly, struggling to separate dream from memory. The scent of herbs and worn canvas met her nose. Lantern light cast a muted golden glow against the slanted tent walls.
She shifted slightly—and that's when she noticed him. Seated on a chair a few feet away, Luthar sat with a terminal in his hands, back straight, head slightly lowered. A soft mechanical hum came from the servo-skull that hovered silently near the ceiling, its sensors dimmed, inactive for now.
"…Luthar?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper—dry and unsure.
He looked up immediately, eyes sharp and unreadable in the low light.
She sat up slowly, wincing as her muscles protested. Her gaze flicked to her arms—bandaged and lightly bruised.
"I don't know,as I just arrived a few hours ago." His voice was even, calm.
Liliruca frowned softly, looking down at her hands.
"I guess I got involved in something I shouldn't have."
"It's okay," he said. "There are some things we can't avoid."
A pause passed. Liliruca's brows drew together. "Is everyone…?"
"Alive," Luthar confirmed. "Some minor injuries. They're resting in the other tent."
Her shoulders slumped in quiet relief. Then her gaze wandered around the tent—until it landed back on him. "I didn't think you would come for me."
"I had nothing more urgent to attend to."
That answer made her frown—not with offense, but with thoughtfulness.
Luthar didn't reply. He merely turned a page in his book. The silence stretched comfortably between them—the kind that didn't need to be filled.
But after a moment, Liliruca shifted on the cot again, hesitating.
"I guess I lost your gun," she muttered, looking down. "It exploded while I was fighting… I didn't even know what I did wrong."
Luthar's eyes shifted toward her, steady and unreadable. "It's not your fault. The weapon was unstable." He leaned back slightly, tone level. "This world lacks the materials for proper heat regulation—like thermal sinks or insulative alloys. Without those, the weapon couldn't vent its buildup effectively. It was a rushed prototype. Crude and unreliable."
Liliruca's expression tightened.
"So… it was just going to break eventually?"
"No," he said. "It's easy to avoid overheating—just don't fire too many rounds if you're fighting for a long time."
Liliruca gave a tired laugh, though it was more breath than sound.
"I guess I still have a lot to learn about guns."
Luthar looked at her a moment longer, then closed the book quietly.
"You can," he said. "It would be useful. But to avoid the same situation, I'll give you a standard model from my collection. It's more stable."
She blinked. Then she smiled faintly. She didn't care about the new gun—not really. For her, the greatest surprise was that he had come down to 18th floor for her.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Why… did you come down for me? I mean, it probably wasn't worth the trouble, right?"
He didn't answer immediately. Some answers made sense—future investment, battlefield potential, test subject. None of them felt right anymore. Saying 'You're like family' would sound false—even to himself. He wasn't that kind of man. Not yet.
After a moment, he spoke.
"I came because," he said, voice quiet, "from the moment I picked you up, I decided to make you part of the life I'm building. That makes you my responsibility—and not something I discard when inconvenient."
Liliruca stared at him. For a long moment, she didn't speak—then simply smiled. Not brightly, not with relief—just something quiet. Real.
"That," she said softly, "sounds like a confession."
Luthar, eyes returning to the terminal in his lap, agreed silently. It did sound like a confession,but He thought since they were going to live a very long life,he wouldn't want to surround himself with people he didn't like.
Just as the tent settled back into a soft hush, broken only by the occasional flicker of Luthar's terminal, a faint commotion rippled through the outside—muffled voices and the sound of someone tripping over a supply crate just outside.
Luthar didn't look up from his terminal.
Liliruca blinked toward the tent flap, head tilted.
"Should we check it out?"
A second later, the unmistakable voice of Hestia pierced the quiet like a blade.
"Bell! Don't run off like that; you're still healing!"
There was a thud. Then Bell's sheepish voice:
Luthar finally lifted his gaze. The tent flap rustled, casting long shadows across the floor.
Liliruca exhaled softly, murmuring,
"And I thought the gods were not allowed inside the dungeon."
The flap snapped open, and Hestia burst in like a whirlwind, arms akimbo, eyes wide with righteous concern. Bell and Welf followed behind her—the former looking mortified, the latter mildly amused.
"There you are!" Hestia exclaimed, pointing at Liliruca. "You nearly gave Bell a heart attack! And me! And probably Welf, but he hides it better!"
"I'm the one who should be complaining," Liliruca said quickly, holding up a hand.
Hestia huffed, marching closer and looking her over like a fussy aunt.
"Bell told me the whole story—fire, gun parts, smoke. Honestly, I should've expected it the moment I heard you had one of his weapons."
She threw an accusatory glance at Luthar, who, to his credit, didn't rise to the bait. He merely adjusted his terminal screen and offered a flat:
"Must be nice to throw around the blame."
"I'm not blaming you. If not for them encountering Lily with her weapons, they might have had an accident," Hestia said.
Luthar glanced at her.
"Then why are you here?"
"I am here to check on Lily," Hestia muttered, crossing her arms. "After all, we did live together for a short time."
Bell tried to change the subject with a nervous smile.
"Um… we brought food?"
Liliruca lit up slightly.
"Food sounds really good."
Luthar gave a small nod.
"I didn't bring my energy pack, so I don't need it."
Welf, carrying some food, spoke with amusement:
"That thing is definitely not food. What I heard from Bell is that it doesn't taste good."
Luthar, hearing this, remembered the one or two times Bell accidentally drank his energy packs—vomiting them up within seconds from the horrible taste.
Hestia finally sat herself down beside Liliruca, grumbling under her breath as she fussed with her coat.
"So, are you still creating that abomination?"
"No. I was quite busy last week, but I am planning to build a new lab so I can make some Skitarii," Luthar said absently.
"Is that the name of your new weapon?" Bell asked.
"Can be considered weapons, as they are quite poisonous. An example would be just one unit—by tomorrow, beside some goddesses, everybody in this camp would be dead."
Listening to Luthar talk about his new weapon, Hestia got angry again.
"I don't know how you convinced Hephaestus, but you need to change this idea of creating dangerous things."
"It's not dangerous. It just needs to be used at the right place," Luthar corrected her.
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