Chapter 44 Wings That Ask the Way
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
The meeting left my body heavy. I dropped onto the sofa by the front window and let out a long breath. The mayor’s pressure hit my nerves more than my ears.
”Good work, Tatara-dono.”
”Yeah. I’m beat. Morning, Tatia.”
”And to you.”
She smiled, bright and steady. Good sign for the day.
”Tatia, you know the drill with the armor.”
”Yes. I’ll don it after we enter the Dungeon. I remember.”
”Right. Foolish question.”
”It’s fine. I know how much I want to rush. If we were careless, I might have suited up right here.”
We laughed. The distance between us felt right—comfortable.
Distance. Torakuma once said she’d comfort me if Ethelena turned me down. She said she liked what Ethelena and I had. Now… it feels off. Things she lets slip press that truth in my face. I pretend not to notice because I can’t answer her.
That’s not honest. I owe her clarity.
If I’m honest, I’m scared. Telling her “no” means watching her hurt, and that hurts me. It’s a coward’s thought, and I know it.
”Tatara-dono? What troubles you?”
”Eh?”
Tatia watched me, worried. I’d gone quiet long enough for it to show on my face.
”I was thinking about Torakuma’s equipment,” I lied. “How to build it.”
”Material: demonsteel?”
”Yeah. And a nine-kilogram heavy weapon just for her.”
A neat, easy lie. It wasn’t what weighed on me.
I was still talking with Tatia when Ethelena came back. I met her at the door and took the bags.
”Welcome back. Thanks.”
”No problem. I bought extra for a recipe I want to try.”
Light footsteps approached behind us.
”Ethelena, I’ve been waiting! Forgive the rush, but teach me the laundry—now!”
Torakuma all but bounced. I couldn’t meet her eyes. Once I thought about it, I lost my nerve.
They headed to the laundry room to collect the finished load. With teaching, fifteen minutes should do it. Then we’d leave.
”What are they doing?” Tatia asked.
”Torakuma grew up with house staff. No experience. Ethelena’s showing her how to hang laundry—start simple.”
”Like close sisters—or a mother and daughter.”
”Let’s skip mother and daughter. Torakuma’s taller, but she gives off… kid energy.”
We stowed the groceries in the fridge. Food wouldn’t spoil in inventory, but it felt better this way.
While we waited, I poured cold-brew tea from the batch I keep on hand, and we sipped and chatted. Upstairs, Torakuma’s delighted voice carried down. Peaceful—if you ignore the knot inside me.
”About the house defenses,” Tatia said.
”I’ll start with forty kilos of demonsteel for the door and reinforcements. The fence can wait.”
”Enough?”
”Honestly, I want double—eighty. If another rare-fall floods us with mithril, I’ll give up and use that.”
”A grim issue that somehow sounds like a joke.”
Even high nobles and royalty don’t build houses like that. If I tried—and the ore turned to mithril again—the mayor would kill me on the spot.
”House work can wait. Torakuma’s gear can’t.”
”One hour per piece?”
”Armor needs more tweaking. And if I work alone with Torakuma at night, Ethelena will worry.”
”Knowing Ethelena-dono, she will be there.”
”Can’t deny it.”
Truth: being alone with Torakuma would feel… awkward. If Ethelena’s there, maybe it’s easier. In the end, it’s on me.
”We finished hanging the laundry!” Torakuma called.
”Nice work.”
”How was your first house chore, Yohira-dono?” Tatia asked.
”Fresh and fun!”
She laughed like a kid, and the fog in me thinned. Don’t take doubts into the Dungeon. Reset.
I nudged my brain with a little self-hypnosis and looked to Ethelena. She noticed and nodded with a smile. Good. If she also told Torakuma why we dry things upstairs, even better—but for now, dry is dry.
”Then let’s gear up and go?”
Everyone met eyes and nodded. We began to prep—except for one problem.
”Tatara… my clothes?”
”They don’t fit. You grew too much. Until I finish the new set, bear with the cape.”
Her casual clothes still worked, but the tuned armor had no play left. With that much change up top—and, frankly, below—fit was impossible.
Will this happen every time Ethelena class ups? I should add more give to the next set. She looked a bit sulky. Maybe she liked that design.
”You two should buy baby goods and maternity clothes before new armor,” Torakuma said, teasing.
Ethelena answered before I could. “My belly’s not showing that much yet, right?”
Wait. What?
”Ethelena… are you—?”
If she was, I’d really messed up. Pre-stability travel is bad for an infant.
”…Not yet. I think,” she said after closing her eyes to check herself.
Not yet.
”I got nervous,” she admitted.
”If she were, I’d pull her from the expedition at once,” Torakuma said.
As point scout, Ethelena eats stress first. That’s bad for a mother, and a surprise strike is worse. If she conceives, exploration ends—immediately.
”Uu… Tatara…”
”Calling my name won’t change the rules. If you get pregnant, you cut a lot of things.”
”Even… that?”
”That’s your first question? Yes. Off-limits.”
”Why!? If I don’t stay close to Tatara, my succubus energy dips.”
”Not entirely wrong,” Torakuma murmured. “A succubus needs vital essence.”
”It’s dangerous for the mother,” I said. “If you need essence, I can channel it by skin contact with Sex Sorcery.”
”No! That won’t cover my Tatara quota!”
”Tatara quota?”
”At last, he’s become my energy source,” Torakuma said dryly.
”If I don’t welcome Tatara—properly—I’ll waste away from a lack of Tatara. You okay with that!?”
”She sounds… convincingly desperate,” Torakuma admitted.
”If you can’t hold out, use dreams,” I said. “You did before you learned Sex Sorcery.”
”No! Why would I take dream Tatara when real Tatara is right here!”
”So there’s ‘real’ and ‘dream’ Tatara now,” Torakuma mused.
”Before that,” Tatia cut in, “she isn’t pregnant yet. You worry for nothing.”
Not nothing, I thought. We’ve had enough attempts to make it plausible.
Torakuma ended the swirl by using Human Appraisal. “Not pregnant,” she reported. That settled the room. She’d apparently confirmed all of Ethelena’s… sizes too, judging from how she double-checked her own with a lift of her arms.
Give it three days and Torakuma’s stress might max out. Maybe I read her calm wrong.
Then she laughed at my face.
”What is it, Tatara? Losing your cool?”
”Think about the conversation we just had.”
”For the record,” she said, “Ethelena hasn’t noticed who I like.”
”You’re kidding.”
Dense, Ethelena? Or pretending not to know?
”Love Ethelena with your usual single-mindedness,” Torakuma said softly. “As for us, keep us at the edge of your thoughts.”
Her expression went still—as if she’d given up everything. It made her earlier teasing feel like a lie.
”…Got it. You’re a yokai who powers up by watching me and Ethelena get along anyway.”
”Exactly! I shall take my daily ration.”
She laughed at my answer. It looked like forced cheer, but I chose to believe otherwise and pressed a lid over my guilt.
We headed for the Dungeon and checked in. Tatia could barely hold still, like a dog straining at the leash.
Once we lost the crowd inside, Tatia wrapped herself in Aara. She kept the wings folded as a cloak, so at a glance she looked like a knight in a surcoat.
”Good targets for air drills spawn near the entrance,” I said. “They’re yours.”
”Leave it to me!”
I smiled at her snorting enthusiasm and formed up as last time. Ethelena pointed—finger up—marking a Giant Bat.
Tatia spread her wings and rose. A heartbeat later she rushed the bat, wings humming. Sword work is clumsy midair, so she used the estoc like a lance—a rider’s charge. She punched straight through the center. The bat burst apart, only the wings falling like torn cloth.
”Come to think,” I said, “I don’t know Tatia’s skills. She feels like she has ‘Charge.’”
Innate skills are guesswork, but she already has Sword Aptitude and Knight’s Swordsmanship. She picked Mobility Boost at level ten. Three remain unknown. After that strike, ‘Charge’ wouldn’t surprise me. From above, it’s a terror.
We scooped the wing drops and let her keep going. When three bats boxed her in, she struck first—three rapid thrusts, three kills—then swatted a fourth with her shield mid-follow-up and shattered it.
She was simply strong.
She dove on Giant Rats below like a raptor, all speed and silence. That—this—was Tatia at her best. She looked more alive in the air than on the ground. Past the golem floors, the only real threat among prior enemies is the Goblin Wizard, and even that barely slowed her. She ran wild.
We grabbed a few chests and pushed down.
On five, we hit a Goblin Commander party right away—heavier than last time: one commander, one warrior, one wizard, six goblins.
”This time,” I said, “Tatia runs point.”
”I’m growing used to the armor,” she said. “Gladly.”
”Don’t let the high narrow your view. You’ll feel unstoppable. Keep your head cool and your heart lit.”
”…Heh. True.”
She blinked, then smiled—probably at herself for getting carried away.
”Open on the wizard,” I said.
”To limit their answers to me?”
”Right. Among us, the worst matchups are you and Ethelena. They can’t throw well with those short arms, but magic is different. I don’t want a weird armor interaction.”
”Understood.”
”Show them what a high-speed dive feels like—something to take to the afterlife.”
”I’ll make them learn.”
Her grip tightened on the estoc until it creaked.
”Ethelena, take the regular goblins. Use Lonisera. Keep their throws off Tatia.”
”Got it. I’ll erase the chance entirely.”
”Torakuma, the warrior’s yours. Treat it as Appraisal practice.”
”Noted. After that, I’ll challenge the commander. Yes?”
”Do it. I’ll stall the commander first.”
In a sense, I’m the weakest here. I don’t debuff like Ethelena, wall like Tatia, or hit as hard as Torakuma. I hold things in place.
”Let’s move.”
”Mm.”
”Mm.”
”Yeah!”
Tatia burst forward first, wings at full. With the armor’s mobility boost, she crossed the sixty meters to the wizard in one rush and drove the estoc through its head. It never even reacted. By the time I closed on the commander, that fight was done.
Goblin heads popped in neat succession as mana bullets tore through them—clean shots, each one. Three fell in a blink. The stragglers looked away at their dead and lost their guard; more bullets erased them. Ethelena’s shooting had climbed another rung. It wasn’t just Shooting; Sniping Technique was paying off. Reliable as ever.
The warrior leered and set to meet Torakuma—but gold washed over her eyes, and she didn’t bother to dodge. One precise cut separated arm, then neck, without wasted force. The body stood a breath longer, unaware it was dead, and collapsed seconds later. Her sword work was sheer economy.
I hit the commander a heartbeat after my team. He barked orders—too late. His unit was already gone. Appraisal showed the same stats as before. I chose attack; technique: Combo Attack.
Hit Check: Weapon 15 + 43 = 58 − 30 → 28. Hit confirmed.
Damage Flow: Physical 58 + [Combo] 10 = 68 − 25 → 43. Continuous sequence.
I brought the warhammer down on his left shoulder, cleaving at a diagonal, then redirected and drove an upward cut into his ribs. Collarbone and ribs shattered and punched through organs; the rest pulped from the shock. He spat blood and fell to ash. With my bumped stats from last run, this tier was easier.
I grabbed the dropped mana stone and checked the party. Everyone fine. No damage, and our only costs were my Skill Power and Ethelena’s mana. Her Vitality Transfer tops me off; her mana ticks back with time—so, effectively, no net drain. Tatia’s boost to mobility and offense changed the whole feel. She’ll carry weight for us.
With that rhythm set, we swept the floor.
Luck skewed further than last time: every group we met marched under a commander. Tatia dove on warriors and commanders alike, taking heads from above in single strikes. In those cases, I took the wizards. If I turtled, their spells couldn’t bite; then I smashed them. Simple.
The easy tide held at the boss. The Goblin Lord couldn’t touch Tatia without a wizard. She pecked him apart like a raptor, but always at the vitals. Only his high HP kept him standing. The chest paid out a mithril ingot, which we earmarked for Ethelena’s gear—with her blessing.
”Tatara-dono,” Tatia said while we checked our skill sheets, “there’s something I wish to consult.”
”Shoot.”
”Look over my skill build.”
”I mean—”
”Please. I need a short-window build to raise combat ability—something that reins in reckless squire behavior.”
”…Right.”
In one sense, the worst kind of question. Tatia hated asking it; I could see the sour taste on her face.
”Baseline first,” I said. “Skills exist—so the tales say—because the gods gave humans tools to fight monsters.”
”I’ve heard it. From Father. As a fairy tale.”
Same for me—parents and grade school both taught it as story. The blessed spread their gifts; those gifts rooted into the world and became skills. Maybe true, maybe not. The Archangel once said blessed humans solved a doom the gods couldn’t touch. If they etched battle craft into the body back then, that could be where skills began. How the bloodline spread enough to root… no clue.
Either way, skills are broad. Affinities steer how you swing; techniques can be learned, but shaving the opening frames is on you. Fresh moves have big gaps—easy to read in duels.
Monsters rarely punish those gaps unless they’re freakishly trained, which makes most explorers sloppy.
Knights train for people. They study human timing and tells until they can stick a finger through any crack. Against explorers, they’re practically a counter-class. Flip side: they break on monsters—too much vitality to drop with human-kill lines. Tatia’s an exception because her body outclasses norms. Exceptions are rare by definition.
Sure, if knights leveled in Dungeons, they’d become a force explorers couldn’t match. Tatia shows the path—Earthmother-series boons locked her growth on. In our party, she’s nearly a wall by herself.
But that’s because she’s still a trainee and dives with us—mid-tier explorers who can carry. Even goblin commanders give seasoned knights trouble: monsters don’t follow human scripts, so knights slip when the pattern breaks. The crown bans knights from Dungeons in general; they won’t waste elite, educated soldiers. Net result: only trainees go in at all.
Daily drills raise skill levels, but not character level, so stats stagnate. If a knight lucks into base-stat boosters, different story. Otherwise, they’re assigned fixed skill tracks for unit cohesion. Makes sense for line warfare.
Tatia asking me what to take is… stepping off that road. It’s almost saying goodbye to knight school—and the order.
”Sure about this?” I asked. “If I weigh in, you drift from the order’s doctrine—and from ‘knight’ as a role. Also, there aren’t many skills built for fighting people.”
”I’m still asking.”
She met my eyes, steady. I sighed. I’d already told her to grab Mobility Boost. Too late to play pure.
”For fast application against people—or monsters that think—two shine: Ambush and Shirahadashi.”
”…Ambush I can guess,” she said. “What is Shirahadashi? I heard an Orc Slayer used it.”
”Ambush is a kind of feint,” I said. “You shape a mirage edge with mana and fool their eyes. Used right, it’s decisive—even in duels.”
”I see. Ambush.”
Back in the game days, Ambush added a hit bonus to melee and tacked on half your magic attack as extra damage. Give it to a high–magic attack build and they could brawl up close. If I ever pushed Ethelena toward an assassin line, I’d pair it with Sneak Attack.
”Shirahadashi,” I went on, “counters out of an evade.”
”As a wall, that doesn’t fit me.”
”Not always true. It answers anything that punches through your guard or carries Pierce. Your survival goes up.”
”So it’s insurance for deeper floors.”
”Exactly. Best with Agility Boost if you can.”
”I’ll aim for it later.”
There’s also a brute option—Devotion—turning defense into offense by adding Physical Defense to Physical Attack. The cost: while it’s active, you can’t choose defensive or evasive actions. In a Dungeon, Tatia’s raw toughness covers that gap; in a duel, it’s a death wish. That’s why I didn’t recommend it.
For the record, in the old game a maxed tank could stack Devotion, Shadow Strike, Backstab, and Ambush and hit damage cap—one-shotting the final boss. I wouldn’t tell Tatia. If she tried it for real and died, I’d never forgive myself.
”My target is Ambush,” she decided. “Un-knightly name or not.”
”In a real fight, ‘dirty’ and ‘necessary’ are often the same.”
”True.”
We laughed, then she showed me her current list:
Sword Aptitude II / Knight’s Swordsmanship I / Charge II / Hawk’s Eye II / The Flame Proves Gold, Hardship Proves Man III / Mobility Boost I
One skill had a long, unfamiliar name—and a high rank.
”I don’t fully grasp it either,” she said. “I’ve had it since birth.”
”A unique, then. What is that thing…”
The phrasing echoed a favorite saying from my past life—Latin, maybe: “Fire tests gold; adversity tests the hero.”
From the wording, I guessed it: higher odds of hardship—rarer enemies, rarer drops. That would explain our luck. If it ever hit rank V, would it force Muumin spawns? Great for farming stat-up items… until the rare floor predators ate you.
”My take,” I said, “is: once Charge and Hawk’s Eye cap at their current rank, go one of two routes—Ambush plus Magic Attack Up, or Shirahadashi plus Agility Boost.”
Honestly, Mobility Boost alone lets you hit hard; you don’t need Charge to scale damage. And since you don’t have a ranged kit, keeping Hawk’s Eye only for reach won’t pay forever. You don’t need to ‘complete’ those lines now.
”Charge helps,” she said.
”Rank II at max will carry you for a while. Ambush beats it for duels, and Charge has big openings. You can push it later.”
”Fair.”
She nodded, plan set. Having both Sword Aptitude and Knight’s Swordsmanship as starters—yeah, Tatia was born for the lance and blade.
Right then, Torakuma tugged my sleeve. I followed her gaze—and caught myself staring too. The cape Ethelena wore draped like a curtain over… well. Under it she had only a shirt and underwear. Yes, exciting. No, not the time.
What am I even thinking in a Dungeon. And Torakuma—don’t compare and lift your own chest while you look.
”…What?” she asked tartly.
”Ethelena’s just built different. Don’t worry about it.”
”Spare me, breast saint. My B-cup offends you, yes?”
”That’s not—sorry.”
Truth? If I’d ended up with Torakuma instead, size wouldn’t matter. I won’t deny being a breast saint, but I don’t demand the same from the person I love.
”If you have words,” she said, “say them.”
”Uh… chests aren’t noble or base. They’re rich or poor?”
Her eyes narrowed.
”Shall I pin you down and make you give me a child?”
”Absolutely not.”
That would start an incident between Whirlwind and her clan. Her eyes had that flat shine—she meant it. Where did her calm go.
”I could take you and Ethelena home,” she mused. “I’d be first wife, she’d be concubine. We’d both bear Tatara’s children and live in peace.”
”I’m flattered, but I’m not built to love anyone but Ethelena.”
”Love or no, a pole still rises.”
”Get your character back on the rails.”
”I’ve already watched the man I like with my best friend, then… took care of myself. Then my best friend crashed my bath and asked why I was crying. I’ve nothing left to lose but my maidenhood.”
”Self-destruct mode, huh.”
”Do you know how it feels to get caught after I barely hid it?”
”Hell.”
”And then to be worked over by Sex Sorcery and pure succubus craft. Again and again.”
”…My condolences.”
I wouldn’t have guessed all that happened before the shower ended. And Ethelena—when did you level up that much.
Also, why are we having this talk here.
”If Ethelena does conceive,” Torakuma said, “I could keep you company until she hits the safe period.”
”Please stop building a love triangle.”
”If you need more chest, invite Tatia.”
”Please stop building a love square.”
She was half a step into a spiral, but venting seemed to steady her—even if her method was… unique.
”At least I feel lighter,” she said at last.
”Glad one of us does. The receiving end suffered.”
”You fuss over Tatia. You can fuss over me too without punishment.”
”Who would punish me, exactly?”
Given the topic, probably Ethelena. Would she fire mana bullets—or Sex Sorcery? Either way, I’d die.
”Very well. I’ve got my focus back,” Torakuma said. “Shall we move on?”
”My focus is wrecked,” I muttered.
”Then I succeeded a little.”
She said it with a lonely, tight smile. It stuck with me.
We dropped to floor eleven and, right on cue, ran into an Orc Slayer at the opener—proof enough of how strong Tatia’s unique skill bends fate.
Notes:
• Yohira – Torakuma’s first name.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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