Chapter 116, You Did Great

Translator: Barnnn

 

Hal flopped onto the bed with a loud thud. On the other side of the room, Ize sat slumped forward on the edge of her bed, her gaze cast down. Hal called out to her from across the room.

 

“Hey, Ize.”

“What is it?” she replied, her voice subdued.

“You sulking?”

“Sulking?” she parroted.

“If you’re being stubborn, I swear I’m gonna jab a soy sauce bottle up your nose.”

 

Rubbing under her nose with a finger, Ize gave a small sigh, finally admitting the truth.

 

“…Just a little.”

“Yeah, figured as much.”

 

Then, with a soft thump, she collapsed sideways onto the bed, lying down. From where she was, she could see Hal on the opposite bed lifting Sato into the air and playing “up-high” with it, tossing the creature gently above his head.

Ize watched them with a wry smile. Here she was, all twisted up inside, while Hal looked as carefree as ever. Her shoulders relaxed without her realizing, and a breath escaped her lips in something between a sigh and a chuckle.

 

“Oh no, what shall we do?” Hal said in an exaggerated baby voice, bouncing Sato in the air. “Poor little Ize is sooo worried about her big brother, isn’t she?”

“…Why the baby talk?” Ize asked flatly.

“Ah! Whoops. I was staring at Sato, and it really does look like a baby, so…”

“Kekyokyokyokyokyo!” Sato squealed, thrilled as Hal tossed it upward again.

 

Ize had to admit, with that high-pitched laugh and flailing limbs, the Mandragora did resemble a gleeful baby.

 

“Aren’t you afraid, Hal?” she asked after a moment.

“Afraid of what? Fighting?”

“That, and… what happens if you get hurt. Or maybe even…”

“Die?”

 

She flinched when he finished the thought for her.

 

“Of course I’m afraid,” Hal said. “I’m not some battle junkie like Fuya, and I sure don’t get off on pain.”

 

Ize made a strangled noise, somewhere between a cough and a laugh, caught off guard by the unexpected vulgarity.

 

“I don’t know what happens after we die,” Hal went on, “but I know I don’t want to die yet. There’s still so much I want to see and eat and experience. When I’m satisfied with all that, then sure — I’ll take it easy and live out my life peacefully in this world.”

 

He hugged the squirming Sato close, rubbing his cheek against the little one’s leafy head with a playful growl. Sato let out another excited squeal.

Ize watched them, half wishing Hal would take the conversation more seriously — but at the same time, she knew if he did, the weight of it would probably crush her.

 

“Besides, the Goddess gave me back nearly twenty years of youth. I’d better make the most of that and live a long life.”

“True,” Ize said quietly.

 

Hal turned on his side and peeked at her through the fluttering leaves atop Sato’s head. His eyes narrowed with gentle warmth.

 

“What about you, Ize? Are you scared?”

“I… I am,” she admitted.

“Which scares you more? The stairs, or the fighting?”

 

The question struck her like a splash of cold water. Her breath caught.

 

“Did you forget?” Hal asked gently.

“…Yeah. Completely,” she said. “All I ever imagined was dying in battle. I never even thought about the stairs.”

“That’s good,” Hal said, then corrected himself with a shrug. “Well, not GOOD good, but… y’know.”

 

He scratched Sato near the base of its leafy crown, prompting another delighted chirp.

 

“Ukyokekyokyo!”

“What about going into a Dungeon? That scare you?”

“No,” Ize said, shaking her head.

“Fighting doesn’t scare you?”

“No.”

“What about ME fighting?”

 

There was a pause.

 

“…That scares me. A little.”

“Hmm…”

 

Hal finally stilled, then leaned over and blew a huge puff of air right in between Sato’s leaves.

 

“Gyoff! Gyoff!”

“Pfft! What was that sound?” Hal laughed.

“Kekyoffuu!” Sato cried out, flailing dramatically.

“Ah, sorry, sorry! Got carried away,” Hal said between chuckles.

 

Apparently, Hal had pushed Sato a little too far — he was now getting whacked by leafy slaps in retaliation.

 

“…Hey, remember the first time we fought a Twisthorn Deer?”

“Y-yeah!” Ize straightened up, surprised by the sudden change in topic.

“The Blood Bear was scary, but the Deer… that one REALLY scared me,” Hal’s voice muffled a bit as he buried his face into Sato’s leaves. “I’ve always wondered why — I mean, the Bear was stronger, and you were way closer to it than to the Deer. Then why was I more scared of the Deer?”

 

Ize nodded faintly, listening as he spoke, sensing there was more behind his words.

 

“Then at some point, I realized — it was because the Deer charged after dodging my magic.” Hal lifted his head and looked directly at her. “When it rushed in, and you stepped in front of it, I thought my heart had stopped. I kept thinking, what have I done? When it vanished, and you just sat there shaking… all I could think was, if you’d been hurt, it would’ve been my fault.”

“That’s not true!” Ize protested.

“Maybe not,” Hal said gently. “But at the time, that’s how I felt.”

 

He stood up, cradling Sato in his arms, and walked over to Ize’s bed. Ize pushed herself upright and sat on the edge. Hal placed Sato in her lap, then crouched in front of her, his voice calm.

 

“That kind of fear doesn’t go away. Thinking something was a result of my own mistakes… it hurts, Ize.”

 

Ize’s arms trembled as she held Sato. Hal noticed and settled cross-legged on the floor, gently patting her trembling fingers.

Just like the night before a Coming-Of-Age Ceremony.

Just like the day she found her way back to being herself.

He looked at Sato nestled in her arms for a moment, then raised his eyes to meet hers.

 

“Ize, I’m grateful to you.”

“Grateful?”

“Yeah. Back in the cave, when I was out cold… you protected Sato. You wrapped your whole body around it — its leaves and everything. You didn’t even hesitate. You shielded it from falling rocks, even though you weren’t fully conscious… So thank you, Ize.”

“That’s… only natural. Sato is our family. Of course I’d protect it.”

“Yeah. You’re amazing, Ize. Acting on instinct to protect someone else — that’s not something just anyone can do.”

 

Hal gave a faint smile as he watched Sato rustle its leaves contentedly in Ize’s lap. Ize blushed, just slightly, unable to meet his eyes.

 

“And that’s why I want to feel proud too,” he said.

 

She glanced up at him, and when their fingers brushed again, she gently closed hers around his.

 

“I want to be proud that I protected my family. That I protected you, and Sato. I don’t want to regret that. Because protecting family… that should be the most natural thing in the world, right? No matter how reckless, how dangerous, how terrifying it might be — even if I get hurt doing it — I want to be proud of that choice. Because losing my family by doing nothing… that’s far scarier.”

 

Ize swallowed hard. Her lips parted as if to say something — but then slowly closed again.

And for a moment, there was only the sound of Sato’s quiet rustling, nestled safe and warm between them.

Hal continued, still looking up at Ize, who struggled to find her voice.

 

“It’s fine if you want to apologize,” he said gently. “But… hey, Ize. Praise me a little too, will you? Say ‘You did great.’ Say ‘Thanks for trying so hard.’ Tell me ‘Thanks for saving my life. Thanks for protecting our family.'”

 

Their fingers, still entwined, began to tremble — not just Ize’s. The tremble belonged to both of them.

 

“Can’t you just… admit I did well?” he asked softly.

 

A warm droplet fell onto their joined hands. Then another.

 

“Th…ank…”

“…Yeah.”

“Thank you, Hal.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Thank you. I’m glad to be alive.”

“I’m glad too. That you’re alive, Ize.”

“…Yeah. Thank you.”

 

A nervous, awkward laugh bubbled out of Ize, a hiccup of emotion slipping through her lips — silly and sweet. Hal smiled back, his eyes brimming with tears.

 

“We’re still green,” he said. “In this world, I mean. There’ll be more life-or-death moments — ones we’ve never even imagined back on Earth.”

 

Ize met his gaze and nodded, steady and sure.

 

“We don’t have to sacrifice anything,” Hal added. “I don’t want that. If we can just protect our own lives, and the lives of our family… I think that’s enough.”

 

Ize thought back to the wish she’d made on her Coming-Of-Age day.

 

[My only wish is for the happiness of my family — Hal and Fieda. Please, grant me the strength to protect them.]

 

The power she had prayed for — the power the Goddess had given — was already inside her. All she had to do was keep working to use it better. Like how she’d spent years honing her basketball skills, she’d just keep leveling up. That determination kindled in her chest, Ize placed not just her fingertips, but her entire hand over Hal’s and gave it a firm squeeze.

 

“I want to be strong enough to protect you, and Fieda, and Sato too,” she said.

“You’ve already protected me more than once,” Hal replied with a smile.

“That’s not enough,” she said firmly.

“I see,” he said with a chuckle. “If that’s how it is, I’ll have to keep working hard so I don’t fall behind.”

 

They shared a little laugh, then gently let go of each other’s hands.

Between them, Sato gave a little wobble, bumping to the side with a soft plop. The sight made both Hal and Ize smile even more.

 

[I won’t have any more nights haunted by nightmares,] Ize thought.

 

From today on, she could start dreaming about tomorrow with hope again.

She took a deep breath, and the certainty bloomed in her chest.

 

◆

 

A soft click echoed as the door opened.

Fieda stepped into the room, careful not to make a sound. He frowned slightly at the quiet — too quiet, considering the hour. The sun was setting, painting the room in dusky gold. On the bed, curled up in a row, lay Ize, then Sato, then Hal.

 

“…Looks warm,” he muttered, eyeing the snuggled pile.

 

Sato stirred. Spotting Fieda, the little creature carefully wriggled out from between the two humans, shuffling sideways over arms and legs toward him with caution. Just as Sato reached the edge of the bed, its foot caught on something, and it flopped over with a soft thud.

Lying on its back, it looked up at Fieda with a strangely serene expression. It nearly made a snort rise in Fieda’s throat.

 

“C’mere,” Fieda murmured, reaching out.

 

He lifted Sato gently, and the leafy little one fluttered slightly before settling against his shoulder with a sleepy flop.

 

“We’ll let the sleep-deprived kids keep napping a while longer,” Fieda whispered.

“Ke!”

 

With Sato nestled quietly on his shoulder, Fieda slipped into the next room without a sound.

 

◆

 

Midway through July, the heat had settled in like an old blanket — thick, stifling, and impossible to ignore. Even in another world, summer was still summer.

Hal nudged his horse, Hiro, forward with a weary sigh.

Beside him, the larger horse — Take — trotted on, carrying both Ize and Fieda, looking — Hal thought with amusement — vaguely proud of himself.

 

“I’m melting,” Hal complained, wiping at his brow.

“Even with the water-and-wind curtain, the sun’s a beast,” Ize agreed.

“I still say you’re having it easy enough,” Fieda said, though the sunlight spearing into his skin made him wince.

 

A shimmering magical veil surrounded them, woven by Hal’s spellcraft — cooling and shielding them. And yet, the blazing sun pierced through all the same.

 

“By the way,” Hal said, glancing over. “I was just thinking — hasn’t it almost been a year since we came here?”

“Oh, you’re right. Late July…” Ize’s eyes widened. “We should celebrate!”

“A summoning anniversary party?” Fieda grinned.

“Happy Teleportation Birthday!” Hal declared.

“Don’t forget the youth-restoration commemoration,” Ize added dryly.

“And our grand escape,” Hal added.

“That’s WAY too many occasions to celebrate,” Fieda grumbled. “Let’s just bundle it all together after we’re done with this Dungeon.”

 

Ize laughed and lifted her head — only to smack it directly into Fieda’s jaw.

 

“Ugh… again?”

“That’s on you,” she mumbled, rubbing her head. “Your jaw’s always in the wrong place.”

“At this rate, it’s gonna end up permanently misaligned.”

 

Chuckling, Hal reached forward and patted Hiro’s neck.

 

“So, were you about to ask something just now?” Fieda asked him.

“I was wondering how deep this Dungeon goes. Think we can get to the end of it?”

“Oh, that,” Fieda said. “It’s fifteen floors. Should be doable, if things go well.”

“Fifteen, huh? So Rank 4 Dungeons really don’t go that deep…”

“Yeah, but it’s got a big difference from Jasted,” Fieda added.

 

As Ize looked up at him, Fieda expertly tilted his head aside to dodge another accidental headbutt.

 

“Different how?” she asked. “Aside from the fact that we can’t eat the enemies?”

“Yeah. There’s no Portal Room.”

Ize blinked. “No Portal Room?”

“…You serious?” Hal said.

 

No Portal Room meant they’d have to hike back all the way every time they wanted out. And worse, each new run they’d have to start again from the very first floor.

 

“Wait… so we’d be camping inside a Dungeon full of Undead?” Hal asked, his voice rising.

“Yeah, obviously.”

“Ugh.”

“NOOOOOO!”

 

Visions of zombie B-movies and Netflix shows flashed through Ize and Hal’s minds. In every one, the Undead always got lively after sundown.

 

“What about the Rank 2 one?” Hal asked. “How’s THAT Dungeon set up?”

“Oh, Sooryab?” Fieda said. “That one does have a portal.”

“Thank the Goddess,” Ize exhaled.

“But only every ten floors.”

“…What?”

“Not five?” Hal asked.

“Ten,” Fieda repeated.

“That’s definitely a sleepover!” Hal screamed.

“NOOOOOO!” Ize howled again, as if trying to exorcise the movie scene replays flooding her brain.