Danmachi: The Focalors Familia Starting from the Dungeon

The wooden sword in Aiden’s hand sliced through the cool morning air. Carrying a suffocating, vicious wind, it slashed straight down at her head.

Iselina, after all, was a Level 2 adventurer; her combat instincts were far superior to Shion’s.

Seeing this, Iselina’s pupils contracted sharply. Without hesitation, she crossed her dual swords, dropping into a standard defensive posture.

However, in the fraction of a second just before the blades were about to clash, Aiden flicked his wrist. The wooden sword that had been slashing down with such terrifying momentum seemingly vanished into thin air.

Using an inconceivable technique, he instantly retracted and flipped the sword. The entire sequence flowed like water, so fast that Iselina’s neural reflexes completely failed to keep up.

Her dual swords blocked empty air, while Aiden’s wooden sword—pommel first—accurately slipped through the gap in her defense, striking dead center on her soft abdomen.

”Ugh!”

A dull force rippled outward. The pain caused Iselina’s eyes to bulge, feeling as if all her internal organs had shifted out of place.

She was sent flying backward like a fired cannonball, crashing heavily onto the ground. Curling into a tight ball, a fine layer of cold sweat instantly broke out on her forehead.

This rapid sequence of offensive and defensive transitions came with absolutely no warning, dazzling the eyes with its speed.

Iselina, a battle-hardened werewolf girl, was played like a total novice by a simple feint.

Seeing two of her companions dispatched in the blink of an eye, the captain, Cecil, was stunned by the sheer speed of this one-sided slaughter.

Her mind was still stuck on the charge forward, but her body’s instincts sent a lethal chill down her spine.

In the next moment, a cold wooden sword was silently resting against her neck.

”Do you still want to fight?”

Aiden’s voice sounded in her ear, even carrying a hint of a smile. It was gentle and sunny, as if the person who had just beaten two young girls until they collapsed and wailed wasn’t him at all.

The pride of the blue-haired girl prevented her from accepting such an outcome.

The exact moment the muffled thuds of Shion and Iselina hitting the ground sounded, she viciously twisted her upper body backward at an extremely contorted angle. Using centrifugal force, she swung the long-handled war hammer in her hand, unleashing a heavy, roaring sweep.

But Aiden simply took a leisurely half-step backward, effortlessly dodging the fury-filled strike.

Cecil was indeed a Level 2 adventurer, just as she claimed.

Her hammer missed, smashing heavily into the bluestone pavement of the training ground.

With a deafening crash, the solid stone slab shattered. Spiderweb-like cracks spread outward, sending shards of stone flying in all directions.

This single strike possessed the terrifying power to obliterate boulders.

Her combat techniques were also quite decent.

Although Aiden didn’t know how she achieved her level-up, with just this set of skills, she definitely had the capability to fight her way down to around the 14th Floor of the Dungeon in Orario.

The weapon she used was a long-handled war hammer with a reach comparable to a spear, combining the attack range of a spear with the destructive power of a hammer.

Cecil mercilessly utilized her arm strength, making every attack incredibly powerful and sharp.

Having missed her first strike, she didn’t pause for a second. The war hammer danced in her hands, whipping up a fierce gale.

Sweeps, downward smashes, upward swings—every single strike kicked up a vicious wind, disturbing the surrounding air currents.

Although in Aiden’s eyes, her ”technique” and ”adaptability” still needed improvement, every single one of Cecil’s strikes was highly structured and brimming with power.

Every swing of her hammer was so heavy it felt as if she had poured her very soul into it, carrying the rhythm and cadence of a thousand tempering strikes.

Truly worthy of a blacksmith; even in combat, her attacks carried a strong personal style.

A flash of admiration crossed Aiden’s eyes, but his hands showed no mercy.

Facing another heavy, powerful cleave from Cecil, he didn’t dodge. Instead, he swung down the wooden sword in his hand.

The seemingly light wooden sword clashed against the heavy war hammer, yet it produced an impossibly crisp clang of clashing metal.

The slash transformed into a sword beam that was difficult for the naked eye to track, accurately cutting into the weakest connection point of the long-handled war hammer.

An overwhelmingly massive force traveled up the handle. Cecil felt a violent jolt between her thumb and index finger. Unable to maintain her grip any longer, the weapon flew high into the air, tumbling several times before hitting the ground in the distance with a loud clatter.

Due to the immense impact, Cecil was forced to stumble backward repeatedly, ultimately losing her footing and falling to the ground.

The entire battle ended far too quickly. From start to finish, it didn’t even take a full minute.

Uranda, the black-haired human girl who had been standing in the rear the entire time—and who had just raised her staff, mouth half-open, preparing to chant an incantation—froze completely in place. Her mouth remained half-open, unable to produce a single syllable.

Her companions... had all fallen.

There was no point in her attacking anymore.

”Ai-baby/dear, you really don’t know how to show any tenderness to the fairer sex, do you?”

(T/N: In the original Chinese, Hyacine uses the suffix -bao (宝)—derived from baobei (宝贝), meaning ’treasure’ or ’baby’—to create affectionate nicknames for others. Since this sounds unnatural in English, I decided to localized these terms as ’Dear’ or ’Darling’ to better reflect her fond, nurturing tone.)

Hyacine, who had been watching from the sidelines, hurriedly jogged over. Arriving beside Shion—who was currently hugging her shin and rolling on the ground, tears streaming down her face in pain—Hyacine heartbreakingly took out some Healing Spray and applied it to her red and swollen leg.

The cool mist instantly relieved the vast majority of the pain.

Next, she ran over to the werewolf girl Iselina—who was kneeling on the ground clutching her abdomen, face pale as a sheet—and checked on her injuries.

Seeing the miserable state of the two girls, Hyacine shot an annoyed glare at Aiden. He hit way too hard.

Aiden simply shrugged.

He didn’t want to do it either, but going easy on them was irresponsible to their lives.

It would cause them to misjudge their own strength, which would lead them into an abyss of no return during a real adventure.

Therefore, striking them down with all his might to make them realize the gap in their strength was, in fact, taking the utmost responsibility for them.

Aiden walked over to Cecil, who was sitting on the ground looking utterly crestfallen, smiling as he extended a hand to her. ”Are you alright?”

”Hmph. It’s not over yet.”

Cecil bit her lower lip, the unwillingness in her eyes gradually replaced by an even more stubborn fire. ”Let’s go again. This time, I’m using my trump card.”

She grabbed Aiden’s hand and, using his leverage, stood up abruptly. Then, lifting her head stubbornly, she looked straight into his eyes.

She admitted that they had all underestimated Aiden.

But they hadn’t used their trump card yet.

She wanted to fight again.

”Alright.” Aiden looked at the reignited flames in the girl’s eyes and smiled helplessly. ”Let me see what kind of trump card you have left.”

He knew that if he didn’t let them use this so-called ”trump card” and fight it out fairly one more time, given Cecil’s stubbornness, she would absolutely never accept defeat.

Rather than leaving a lingering knot of resentment, it was better to knock some sense into them in one go.

”Just you wait!”

Leaving behind this resounding declaration, Cecil turned and ran headlong into the magnificent Palais Mermonia without looking back, heading straight for her room.

”You... don’t you know how to hold back even a little?”

Robin had appeared by Aiden’s side at some point. As she handed him a glass of water, she wore a helpless expression. ”They’re still just children. And... Goddess Astrea is watching.”

She signaled with her eyes for Aiden to look at the second-floor balcony not far away.

The Goddess of Justice, dressed in a pure white gown, was leaning quietly against the railing, her gentle gaze focused on the training ground.

When she noticed Aiden’s gaze, she didn’t show the slightest hint of reprimand. Instead, she offered a gentle, encouraging smile, as if she didn’t mind at all that Aiden had just beaten the living daylights out of her children.

Aiden’s mouth twitched uncontrollably.

Beating up someone’s children right in front of them... Even if it was out of good intentions, the feeling still made him feel just a tiny bit awkward.

Soon, hurried footsteps could be heard. Cecil came running back, panting heavily, her arms full of several long objects tightly wrapped in white cloth.

”Here, Shion, Iselina. We’re fighting him again.”

Cecil handed these mysterious objects to Shion and Iselina, who had just recovered. She grabbed one for herself, and even the continuously silent Uranda was given one.

”I see.” Aiden looked at the items in their hands, understanding instantly. ”For a blacksmith, that indeed qualifies as a trump card.”

He guessed almost immediately what was wrapped inside the white cloth—nothing more than Magic Swords possessing immense, single-use power.

Perhaps to other adventurers, these consumables that shattered after one or two uses were indeed ”external tools.”

But for a blacksmith, something forged with their own two hands was an extension of their own power. There was no such thing as an ”external tool.”

Besides, Aiden was never opposed to using external tools.

Humanity was born weak. Without the ”external tools” of intellect and implements, they would have probably been wiped out by the monsters in the Dungeon long ago.

It was just that he didn’t care much for ordinary Magic Swords.

Firstly, the power of most Magic Swords was inferior to his own magic. Secondly—and most importantly—Magic Swords were simply too expensive. He didn’t want to waste money on them.

After all, he had far too many places he needed to spend money.

But now, the situation seemed to be changing.

Aiden looked at Cecil, a nearly imperceptible glint flashing in his eyes.

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