Danmachi: The Focalors Familia Starting from the Dungeon

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Above the lintel of the grand doors, stone reliefs depicting a spirit and a knight gazed silently down at them.

Passing through the heavy doors, an unimaginably vast space opened up before their eyes.

The central nave, combined with the side aisles, spanned a width easily exceeding sixty meters, while its depth was more than twice that number.

The ceiling featured a well-ventilated, open-air design, towering so high that one had to crane their neck completely backward just to catch a glimpse of the top.

Across the ceiling stretched a gargantuan mural, and unsurprisingly, its theme revolved around the tragic tale of the spirit and the knight.

Unlike the reliefs outside, this mural included a holy saintess dressed in pure, immaculate robes. Beside her, the knight cradled the cold corpse of the spirit, sighing in silent agony. The atmosphere of profound grief seemed to bleed out of the painting, permeating the entire hall.

Aside from the ceiling mural, there were massive arcades separating the side aisles from the nave, uniformly sized skylights, countless majestic stone pillars supporting the dome, and statues cast entirely from pale silver.

In addition, rows of polished wooden benches were neatly arranged throughout the shrine for visitors to rest.

The scenery before them could only be described as a magnificent grand cathedral built specifically for ceremonial worship.

”Normally, this place isn’t open to the public,” Lefiya whispered as she walked beside Aiden. ”The Guild only opens it for brief tours during major festivals like the Monsterphilia.”

”Is that so? What a shame.”

Aiden looked genuinely disappointed. ”I was thinking I could bring my Familia members here to take a look when we had the chance. Looks like we’ll have to wait for the next festival.”

He felt that Robin, Tifa, Hyacine, and Furina would all thoroughly enjoy the atmosphere here.

The surroundings were so solemn and quiet that everyone instinctively dared not make a sound. The trio naturally kept their voices low as they conversed.

Following the tour route mapped out by the Guild, the three of them strolled forward at a leisurely pace.

Aiden gazed up at the side aisles framed by thick stone pillars, where massive stained-glass windows were embedded in the walls. Sunlight pierced through the colorful glass, casting a soft, kaleidoscopic glow across the floor and pillars, causing him to narrow his eyes in appreciation.

Inside the hall were Guild staff, volunteer adventurers wearing holy vestments, and a few gnomes acting as security. Even so, there were far fewer guests than one might expect.

The other visitors scattered throughout the building frequently stopped in their tracks, much like Aiden’s group, examining every intricate detail of the shrine with deep fascination.

Starting from the left aisle, they walked clockwise until they finally reached the deepest part of the Spirit Shrine.

This was the chapel.

Directly above them was a spectacular stained-glass window depicting the knight and the saintess (Saintess is Fulland’s companion), dominated by rich hues of blue and purple.

Resting silently beneath the colorful glass was a crystal coffin.

The casket was adorned with intricate, pale-blue metallic decorations that resembled armor plating, reflecting a cold, ethereal luster under the painted light.

Resting upon the altar were the legendary ”Spirit Relics.”

”Is this...?” Aiden’s eyes were drawn to the crystal coffin. He looked at Lefiya, figuring she knew, given how many times she seemed to have visited.

”It’s said that the remains of that ’Spirit’ are resting inside,” Lefiya explained. Her voice was even softer now, laced with profound reverence. ”As for what her remains actually look like... there are several rumors. Some say a spirit woman as beautiful as the day she died slumbers within, her features perfectly preserved for eternity. Others claim the spirit’s body has long since crystallized into countless dazzling gems scattered across the coffin. There’s even a theory that her corpse were ’weaponized,’ transforming into an indestructible Spirit Weapon.”

Ais remained completely silent. She stared blankly at the crystal casket, her golden eyes unfocused. It was impossible to tell what was going through her mind.

Lefiya continued, ”The coffin is sealed incredibly tight. It can’t be opened by any known methods... but it is widely accepted as fact that it protects a Water Spirit who fell thousands of years ago.”

Perhaps infected by the solemn and sorrowful atmosphere of the room, even the usually rational Aiden felt an inexplicable pang of grief.

Saint Fulland’s Spirit Shrine wasn’t just a religious structure; it was a historical monument built upon a very real, legendary heroic tale.

It was a story that had actually played out on this very land called Orario—a living ’ancient’ legacy proving that history was no mere fiction.

The specific legend chronicling the tragic romance of the hero Fulland was titled Fulland of Water and Light. Aiden recalled that Furina had recently been reading a book that looked exactly like it.

It was a story revolving around a spirit, a hero, and a saintess.

A story that was, at its core, a tragedy.

A tragic tale born of love, and ended by love.

Torn between the saintess and the spirit, the hero ultimately chose the saintess—a decision that directly triggered the final tragedy.

Even though this wasn’t her first time visiting, Lefiya always felt a deep, genuine sorrow whenever she revisited the tale.

Ais, however, showed no particular reaction. She couldn’t comprehend a complex emotion like romantic love, and naturally couldn’t put herself in the characters’ shoes.

”Aiden, if you were in the hero Flulland’s position, who would you choose?”

Lefiya tilted her head up, her blue eyes brimming with curiosity as she asked him.

She had tried placing herself in Flulland’s shoes before, only to find she had absolutely no idea how to choose.

No matter who was chosen, someone would inevitably get hurt. It felt like an unsolvable dilemma.

”Me?” Hearing this, Aiden answered almost without hesitation. ”If it were me, I’d probably just take both.”

”S-So greedy!”

Lefiya was flabbergasted, stumbling a half-step back at the completely unexpected answer.

”I mean, look at it this way,” Aiden shrugged, explaining it as if it were the most logical thing in the world. ”No matter who he chose, either the spirit or the saintess was bound to get hurt. But if Fulland had just chosen both, then no one would have gotten hurt. The three of them could have lived happily ever after, and the later tragedy wouldn’t have even happened. See? Doesn’t that make perfect sense?”

”N-No! That’s not right! It shouldn’t be like that!”

Infuriated by Aiden’s crooked logic, Lefiya lightly stomped her foot.

It was a perfectly good, tear-jerking tragedy! But after he put his spin on it, the entire vibe was completely ruined!

Worse yet, when she glanced over and saw Ais looking genuinely thoughtful, Lefiya felt like she was about to cry from sheer anxiety.

If Miss Ais was actually led astray by Aiden’s bizarre theories, she really would cry.

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