Live Dungeon!

Once Tsutomu had fully stepped into the glowing Black Gate, its white brilliance faded instantly, dimming into its usual appearance. Amy and Garm, the two left behind, remained frozen in place, barely able to see through the tears clouding their eyes. Neither could move, as if the finality of Tsutomu’s departure had rooted them to the earth.

Amy stared at the strange paper card clutched in her hands, hoping it would transform or offer some sign, anything. But it remained stubbornly unchanged, its contents static.

“…We should go,” Garm said at last, recovering more quickly from sorrow. “Staying too long will only make the others more suspicious.”

But Amy did not answer. She stayed where she was, sitting cross-legged, her hollow-eyed gaze fixed on the card. Knowing she could not return to the Guild in such a state, Garm sat down nearby, carefully directing the God Eye so it would not even have the chance of filming a single frame of them.

The grass pricked slightly at his skin; it was rougher than it looked. That sharp, familiar feeling drew his thoughts back to his early days as an Explorer, as well as the first time he and Tsutomu had set foot on this very layer.

Back then, Tsutomu had been the picture of a greenhorn, no different from a rich child dressed up in fancy gear bought by indulgent parents, escorted by guards, playing Explorer. Most such newcomers ran home after seeing the brutal reality of God’s Dungeon. One good look at a Goblin’s head being smashed open was enough to send them running, white as a sheet.

But not Tsutomu. He had flinched at the gore, sure, but he had never once backed down. That, more than anything, had marked him as something different from the start.

According to the information shown on the card Tsutomu had used, he came from a world where a game much like God’s Dungeon existed. There, he had been recognized as a skilled Healer. Garm could not imagine what kind of world that was, but none of it diminished what Tsutomu had achieved here.

He had inspired Garm to return to the battlefield when the latter had all but given up on ever being an Explorer again. He had helped overcome the seemingly impassable wall of the Shell Crab, and even the fearsome Fire Dragon. His rigorous lifestyle, structured entirely around God’s Dungeon, had inspired Garm. And the day he led the charge against the Devourer Dragon during the Stampede had been unforgettable.

It was Tsutomu who’d shown them the way. And Garm had followed, not out of obligation, but because he believed in the man. Being able to fight by Tsutomu’s side as a Tank had been a point of pride. The others in the Clan, all exceptional in their own right, had come to accept Tsutomu as their leader. He might have been cold and calculating on the surface, but beneath that, he carried kindness.

“…Tsutomu. Tsutomu…” Garm choked on the name.

That irreplaceable person was gone.

He said he wanted to come back someday, and Garm had believed him. But they had no way of knowing if that would ever be possible. That terrifying thought that this might be goodbye forever resurfaced with a vengeance. Garm’s voice trembled as he called Tsutomu’s name, knowing it would echo into emptiness.

“…Why… why are you crying!? Aaah!! Tsutomu!!!”

Amy, who had finally begun to calm after a long stretch of sobbing, was shattered again by Garm’s wavering voice. Her wails rang out across the grass, loud and helpless. If anyone had seen them through the Monitors, it might’ve made for a headline story.

“…”

“…”

About thirty minutes passed before the waves of emotion finally receded. The two sat silently, awkwardly avoiding each other’s eyes. Their tails twitched behind them, swaying faintly, brushing against the grass with soft pats.

Eventually, they both seemed to arrive at the same conclusion, that they could not sit here forever. In near perfect sync, they stood. Amy summoned the God Eye, checked the time glowing across its reverse side, and murmured,

“Think it’s been long enough to head back?”

“…I suppose,” Garm replied.

Both of them had once worked in the Guild. They knew when foot traffic would be low, when they could slip in unnoticed.

After disguising their departure as best he could, Garm passed through the Black Gate, back to the Guild. To anyone watching, it looked like he was carrying Tsutomu on his back, his form concealed beneath a draped robe.

He drew a few glances from the scattered onlookers, but no one questioned it.

“…Don’t ask.” He said quietly to the Dragonewt gatekeeper stationed at the entrance.

“Sure,” the guard replied simply. He had already seen through the illusion, and yet he let them pass without comment. What did surprise him, though, was Amy bowing like a scolded kitten.

[The real work starts now,] Garm thought grimly. [How in the world CAN I explain this to the others?]

While keeping an eye on Amy, her cat ears flattened and her feet unsteady, Garm wracked his brain about what was to come, his dog ears drooping listlessly.

He did not expect everyone to press too hard, but the more indignant members of the Clan were another matter. Lying to them would be harder. He would have to show them the paper card Amy had and try to explain. But Diniel would not buy it so easily. And then there was Xeno, who had practically been personally threatened, and the ever-volatile Amira. Some of them might leave the Clan altogether.

Garm had been entrusted with Absolute Helix in Tsutomu’s absence. Letting it fall apart would mean failing that trust. But could he keep them together? He didn’t know. He wasn’t Weiss, but even so, Garm had never been great at talking to people.

And keeping the Clan united, especially after the near fracture between Tsutomu and Diniel, wasn’t something that could be done without real leadership. Amy was in no state to help; she’d fallen into a deep emotional daze, her first heartbreak having left her a ghost of herself.

[Still… I reckon at least five of us will remain. I have to hold us together, somehow… I can’t rely on Tsutomu anymore…]

Carrying the disguised bundle, Garm walked the lamp-lit road back to the Clan House, his thoughts whirling. All was quiet; all of the other Clan members seemed to have turned in for the night.

Once inside the dimly lit entryway, Garm finally unshouldered the fake-Tsutomu bundle and let out a long, weary sigh.

“…We’ll tell everyone tomorrow,” he said.

“…”

Amy nodded silently, then kicked off her shoes and trudged upstairs without a word. Garm watched her go, sighed again, straightened her shoes for her, then headed to his own room.