Danmachi: Westward Cloud [Complete]

[Vol.4] Quest 304.4- Dungeon Date, Trust



[Vol.4] Quest 304.4- Dungeon Date, Trust

After leaving the 48th floor, there was a smoldering floor that was like being in a volcano. The ground, ceiling, and walls were a burning red, with distorted rocks littering them from the 44th to the 48th. They finally arrived on the 49th floor.

"Fuu~" they let out a deep breath at the heat.

Sweat dripped down them from going through waves of Flame Rocks and Fomoire’s.

"These floors always make me sweat," Malion said as the sweat glistened off her body.

"Yeah, this place really makes one want to be lazy."

Cirrus tried not to look at Malion given her attire, but it has been a couple of days since he was on this Dungeon Date with her.

After their talk on the 20th floor and the nights together and fighting side by side, they significantly got closer to one another.

"Well, there it is, the Monster Rex, the Balor." Said Malion.

They look out to the 49th floor, known as Moytura, the home of the Monster Rex, Balor. The floor itself was a huge sand-covered room with no sign of life anywhere, and the environment was reddish brown.

"It’s as evil looking as ever," Cirrus said, looking at the monster, a hairless minotaur with red skin and large bat-like wings. In its hands were two nature weapons, two rough-looking long swords.

"I have heard you slew this beast on your own long ago, Cirrus." She said, looking at him.

"Yeah, my stats were too low to try and level up from it. It put up a good fight, but my stats and magic overwhelmed it."

"I see… let me try and fight it."

"Sure."

‘This is giving me the same vibes as when me and Ai came down here when we were—'

"(Ride upon the battlefield rider of the white stead) [Katákti̱si̱]!!!" Malion’s bow was covered in white light as she fired an arrow right into the Balor’s left shoulder, piercing through it and its wing.

"ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRR!!" The Balor roared.

"I am off." She bent her knees with an arrow ready to fire. "(Voyager of the Twilight.) [Rǫkkvi]!!"

She charged headfirst into battle.

Cirrus watched as she fought the Balor on her own. The way she fought and how she moved across the sand and from the Balor’s weapon made Cirrus solidify his type in women.

"…Fuck, I love tough girls."

Malion quickly rushed it while firing off arrow after arrow.

"Fsh! Fsh! Fsh! Fsh!"

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

Four arrows strike the Balor’s right knee, causing it to kneel on it.

"ROOOOOOO!!!" It roared in pain as the arrow dug even deeper into its kneeling.

Malion tossed her bow high into the air and drew her sword.

Shing!

And chanted.

"(Eight-armed giant, may you lust cast you with thunderous might. Ogn, Álfhildr, I offer his blood to the goddess.) [Starkad Fable]!!!"

While she chanted, the Balor swung with all of its might at Malion, with its left arm holding a rough sword-looking weapon.

Malion stopped, sidestepped with her dark-covered sword, and sliced through the nature weapon before kicking off again.

Swiish!!

Thud!!!

She then quickly sliced through the shine of the Balor, causing it to fall onto its front side.

Thud!!!!

She then sheathed her sword while jumping above the Balor, catching her bow.

Landing on the Balor’s back, she notched an arrow as far as she could.

Thud!! Stretch~

"Fuu~" she breathed out before firing one after the other.

Thud!!!

Thud!!!

Thud!!!

Crack!!

She fired three arrows, each one hitting the other deeper to reach and hit the Balor’s magic stone.

Poof!!!

The Balor turned to dust, leaving behind its magic stone and some other drops.

After the fight.

"Fuuu~" Malion takes a deep breath to calm her heart.

Tap!

Tap!

Tap!

She turns to see Cirrus next to her with his hand out.

"That was pretty good!" Cirrus said with a bright smile.

‘Ah…’ Malion was a bit taken by it.

It was a truly heartwarming smile that was filled only with kindness.

"…Your gonna take my hand or you're gonna keep staring?"

"!" She realized she was staring, so she quickly grabbed his hand and got back up. "I am sorry, but do not be offended; I was just taken by your smile. It reminds me of Nephele’s early years in the Familia."

"Well, that’s a bit sad. I thought by now I had outgrown the similarities." He gently touches his face.

"I am sorry if it bothers you."

"Don’t be." He places his hand on her shoulder. "I like to think I know you well enough to know you didn’t mean it in a harmful way. Let’s get going. I wanna make camp." He walked on ahead.

"Right."

50th floor.

Crackle!

Crackle!

The two sit by the campfire. The crystals on the ceiling and the floor illuminate a light blue to show it was nighttime.

"Cirrus," Malion said.

"Yeah?"

"How do you feel about the 59th to 61st floor? From the reports given by the Guild, your Familia, along with the Loki and Freya Familia, reached the 71st floor."

"Hm. Well, the maps the Hera and Zeus Familia made were kinda worthless for the 59th to 61st floors. The floors being terraformed made the maps obsolete, along with the maps from the 62nd to 71st floors. We spent a significant amount of time mapping and cataloging everything."

"That explains why you only just reached the 71st floor, given your strength."

"Yeah, each floor gets significantly bigger than the last. Just the 71st floor alone is about 29 Orario’s in length and width. We explored a bit of the 72nd floor, but by then our supplies were running low to make it back."

"That is certainly an issue. I am afraid it will only grow from there."

"Yeah, but I will keep going further and further."

"I was informed of the Spirits that lay below us. It shocked me that they were a thing. Maybe Maquia has awakened."

"… What did you say?" Cirrus raised an eyebrow. "Maquia has awakened?"

"Did you not know? Huh. It seems they also removed any trace of her from those floors."

"Explain. Last I heard of this Maquia was from Ais, getting information from another spirit."

"Then you know she and Ais are of the same race—a Nephilim."

"That’s as much as I know. But is there more to her aside from just going poof?"

"First, let me preference that I do not know everything. What I am about to tell you is what I heard and know, with some speculations."

"I understand." Cirrus nods.

"Then listen closely. When on our expedition with the Zeus Familia, we made it to the 71st floor but were stopped by a wall of ice. On the wall, it read: ‘Those who shall seek the depths of the abyss shall need to find the key to Maquia’s slumber, a fellow child who was born a mistake. Three kings I gave birth to, three kings who searched land, sea, and air for the one who understood Maquia’s tragedy. The king of the sky found the one who would open the way. They are hidden in the abyss.’. Those words rung in my ears for years, being repeated by the Hera and Zeus Familia till they were engraved in our minds and we could say them by heart."

"Could you not break or melt it?"

"We tried to no avail. We were not gonna just solve some question or riddle, but that was the only option we had. Hera and Zeus gave us the bare essentials of who Maquia was or what they were. So, from the engraving, we sat out to look for another Nephilim. We zealously combed through each and every floor."

"And you didn’t find Ais?"

"No. I was wondering since you and her are close, if you would know where she was?"

"Don’t know. She, Finn, Riveria, Gareth, and Loki are pretty tight-lipped about it. There were three others, Noir, Dain, and Bara, a human, dwarf, and amazoness, respectfully."

"Ah them. They were rather talented level fours. If only they had the talent to break past their level. But that is a shame. We went to complete the Three Great Quests to see if they could do anything but failed in the end, only for that dead end to open up because of some Spirits’ group. You do have an idea of who they are, right?"

"They refer to the one who gave them another lease on life as quote ‘Her’. Other than a guess that Her is Maquia, it’s all up to theories and speculations that only the gods know."

"You never tried to get it out of Artemis?"

"I did. Several times, but she has that under lock and key."

Cirrus tried several ways to try and get her to spill the secret of the Dungeon, both in bed and out, all to no avail. That secret was one Artemis, and in turn, every god will keep it until the day they return to Heaven.

"Hmm… Anyway. That is everything."

"That’s all?"

"Yes. Years of expeditions for that small amount. Heh. It’s a bit funny in the grand scheme of things." She said, smiling lightly.

"How so?"

"Well, it seems that the great Hera and Zeus Familia who remained at the top of the world for over a millennium, were not the ones to conquer the Dungeon, nor were they the ones to complete the last quest. We were just not the ones fated to reach that ultimate truth."

"…" Cirrus closed his eyes and pondered.

"… Is something wrong, Cirrus?" Malion noticed the look on his face. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, it’s just that—Wait? Do I make a face that was like my mom?"

"…" Malion’s eyes darted. "… Y-n-maybe."

Crackle!

The wood from the fire cracked.

"Malion…" Cirrus said so solemnly. "Do you believe in fate?"

"Not particularly no. But there are things that one can only chalk up to a miracle as if the world has plans we call fate."

"…Hm."

"Not the answer you wanted?"

"A little."

"Not a fan of fate, are you?"

Cirrus stares into the fire.

"No. Fate is fucking bullshit. I am a firm, steadfast believer that we make our paths." He reaches out to the fire. "That we choose what we do not because it was fate." He reached into the flame and grabbed a burning wooden log. "But because we choose what path we take, be it painful or not, they are our choices."

Malion stared at Cirrus’ hands, burning slowly. Even if his fingers and hands turn black from soot, his skin is fine. His high level afforded him this, along with the effects of having Fafnir. Yet despite him being fine, Malion could see a struggle within Cirrus. Gnawing.

"Cirrus, can you tell me what you're struggling with?"

"I don’t think you will understand." Cirrus gently puts the log back.

"I have told you of my struggles after the Black Dragon. I assure you that I am, out of everyone you know, the best equipped to tackle any mental or emotional problems that you have."

Crackle!

The wood from the fire breaks again.

"… Promise me you will not say or tell another soul about this. Not even if it is detrimental to myself, got it."

The expression on his face was one she saw far too many times.

"…Yes. I promise you on all that I hold in great honor and respect." Malion said begrudgingly.

"Fuu~," Cirrus takes a deep breath and speaks. "I was given a fate by the gods. I do not know where it ends, but that is not my issue."

"A fate by the gods…" Malion grimaces. "Go on." She waits with bated breath.

"Callisto. They gave her a fate, a route she was forced to take because of a part of her that was not hers to control. That is my problem."

"I... That is something. But is that not great? She will—"

"She will live a life that is not her own!!" Cirrus shouted, standing up.

A tinge of a spiral could be seen in his emerald eye.

"I do not give a fuck about my fate. That ship has long sailed away!! The second I accepted I was a hero, I was fucked!!" He started to walk closer to Malion, his eyes slowly beginning to swirl. The topic of his kids brought a rise in his emotions. "Doesn’t matter if it was for Artemis or Ai or whatever fucking reason I was fucked!!! Crackle!!" He steps over the fire, which illuminates his anger in a red burning hue. "I said repeatedly I did not wish to be a hero!!" He steps out of the fire, standing over Malion as she looks up at him. "I do not want to be called Orion!!! I do not want to keep fucking fighting!!!!"

"Cirrus…" Malion said, looking into his eyes.

Cirrus had a lot on his plate that he bottled up. But he has noticed the stress and worry over Callisto and future kids that quickly build up in him. Then that thought itself made him worry even more as if he were having these bursts not because he wanted to release but because he needed to for something else.

He knows he shouldn’t think about it. But it mauls at him, gnawing and infecting even the smallest of things. But these feelings will stick to him firmly, like the strings of fate that are like shackles to Cirrus.

"… I’m tired." He says it softly as a single tear rolls down his face. His emerald eye returns to normal. "I… I don’t want to have responsibility. Not having to worry about Spirits or-or my future. Fuyukusa, Yamato, Chyong, or Orario. The fear that one day Callisto will be known to the world… I just… wanna go far away like those months in Bell’s Village and live a simple life."

Malion stands up.

"Then why don’t you? You can do that. No one can stop you."

"… Heh." Cirrus cracks a smile as more tears start to come down. "It is fate that I stand before you. Fate gave credence to my birth, which led to me making choices that now shackle me with guilt, and my only way to get atonement was to accept my punishment for my labors from Ouranos and devote myself to slaying the Black Dragon and handling anything that threatens the world. That is why I did not bring Hestia to Olympia. It was not from just some altruistic intentions; it was just my job."

"You do not mean that, Cirrus."

"Yes, I fucking do."

"No, you do not." She gently wipes the tears from his cheek. "That is your anger speaking. I have looked into your past, Cirrus."

"You what?"

"I have looked into your past, and I am sorry for doing such a thing." She takes a few steps back and bows 90 degrees. "I only did it to understand you better."

"… Was it Anansi?"

"I asked Bell if he knew any information brokers, and told me of the god. I had him be the middleman for the information he delivered in a book he called Western Cloud; the name is a filler when he comes up with one, but in the book, he details your beginnings in the sword-smithing city of Solingen to the events of Olympia."

 "That god…" Cirrus turns away, looking at the fire as it slowly darkens.

Straightening her back, Malion could see how wide Cirrus’ back was. Highlighted by the dying embers.

"You have a good heart, Cirrus. You have proven that the past does not define you, but that the scars, physical or mental, one bears are a reminder to always be better than the day before. Though they will never heal fully, they are a reminder that we have lived. To make mistakes and looking upon them with remorse shows that you have grown and matured. Even if the gods have forcibly given you a fate, it is what you do with that knowledge and that experience that makes the future you want."

"My future is already defined. I can—"

"When has life ever gone the way anyone wanted? Hera once said that no god or thing was ever so almighty. Everyone and everything will eventually fall into entropy. What makes fate so different?"

"… I’m tired, Malion."

She came up to him and hugged him tightly.

"Then rest. There is plenty of time to rest and sleep. You do not need to fight every day. You have those who love you to pick up the sword for you. What you said today will not leave this moment until I draw my last breath."

"… Thank you."

Tss~

The campfire snuffed out, and it left the two alone in silence.


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