Facing Alfia's complex gaze, Akira remained composed, unfazed, as if what he had done moments ago was simply routine.

Without turning back, he said casually, "Let's go."

Hearing this, Alfia didn't respond immediately. Instead of putting her gloves back on, she simply held them in her hand, the black fabric dangling idly from her fingers.

Her steps followed soon after—subtle, hesitant, and quiet. She walked behind Akira, her figure swaying slightly with weakness, yet maintaining that same sense of innate dignity. The faint scuff of her boots echoed behind him.

Akira, upon hearing the sound, slowed down instinctively. His pace became less brisk, and with a subtle glance over his shoulder, he turned sideways and adjusted his gait.

Now they walked shoulder to shoulder through the dim cavern.

The silence between them grew heavier with each step.

Only the distant growls of lurking monsters occasionally broke the stillness, their voices muffled by stone and shadow.

A strange, invisible wall lingered between them. One neither of them could see, yet both felt.

During their journey upward, Alfia occasionally noticed the movements of nearby monsters.

Each time, just as she gathered magic at her fingertips, prepared to eliminate the threat—

Akira struck first.

His movements were precise, his timing impeccable. His sword moved faster than her spellcasting. Almost like he was reading her mind.

Alfia blinked in surprise at first. But as it happened again and again, she understood.

He was doing it on purpose.

Protecting her.

Conserving her strength.

Upon realizing this, Alfia said nothing. She merely retracted her magic power and observed in silence.

Watching Akira move fluidly through each fight—his technique, while not refined in a traditional sense, had its own sharp rhythm and unpredictable tempo.

A few times, she couldn't help but speak up, offering critiques or insights about his swordwork.

Though she was a mage, Alfia had her share of experience with the sword. Her grasp of Zald's technique—learned simply through observation and imitation—was enough to rival most.

In fact, even the author himself once noted: if monsters on the 70th floor didn't defeat her within twenty seconds of engagement, they wouldn't stand a chance.

Her reflexes were even faster than the infamous Juggernaut.

Though her tone was calm, her pointers carried weight. Akira, surprisingly, didn't complain. He listened.

Accepted.

And even adjusted.

As the duo climbed higher toward the surface, the dungeon began to feel more crowded.

Groups of adventurers appeared along the path, the sound of chatter and clashing steel echoing through the tunnel walls.

Now that others were present, Akira no longer needed to remain on high alert.

Monsters were swiftly dealt with by teams passing by, leaving him… bored.

And silence returned once more between him and Alfia. This time, Akira couldn't stand it.

Fidgeting with the hilt at his waist, he finally turned and blurted, "So… how did you end up like this anyway?"

Alfia's eyes narrowed. She shot him a sharp glare and answered coolly, "What does it matter to you? Mind your own business."

But no sooner had the words left her lips, her balance faltered. She staggered and almost fell.

Before she could react, Akira had already reached out and grabbed her arm, steadying her.

"Still trying to act tough, huh?" He said with a smirk. "You think you'll make it to the treatment center with that stubborn pride of yours?"

Alfia's cheeks turned a faint red—not bright, but visible enough. She shook off his hand with a harrumph and turned her face away, biting back a retort.

It wasn't clear whether she was flustered by almost falling… or by his teasing words.

This damn brat...

Akira watched her sulk with a raised brow and scratched his cheek awkwardly. Maybe he went too far?

He coughed lightly and mumbled, "Sorry. Just joking around. Don't take it to heart, alright?"

No response.

But her pace quickened. Although her steps were still uneven, she seemed determined not to rely on him again.

"…Okay, okay. I'm sorry, alright? Can't you wait up?" Akira called out and hurried after her.

Finally, the two emerged from the Tower of Babel's ground floor. A warm wave of sunlight welcomed them.

Akira stretched lazily, raising his arms skyward and letting out a long sigh.

"Ahhh… finally out." He said. "That was one hell of a trip."

Beside him, Alfia narrowed her eyes slightly under the sun, her expression peaceful for the first time, as if she too was enjoying the warmth.

Their return wasn't without incident, of course.

On the way back, they stumbled upon a group of novice adventurers—clearly a small familia—besieged by monsters and in dire straits.

Akira, as always, couldn't just ignore them. With swift action, he stepped into the fray and scattered the creatures.

Though the battle wasn't particularly intense, it took up time and afterward, the rescued group wouldn't stop expressing their gratitude, which only delayed things further.

Alfia, arms crossed, snorted in faint irritation. "Tch. If you hadn't meddled with my business first, we wouldn't have wasted so much time."

Her tone wasn't as biting as before. It was laced with a subtle… helplessness.

Akira grinned, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

"Well… I can't ignore people in trouble."

She didn't answer. Not right away. Then, without warning, she extended her hand toward him.

The black gloves that had rested idly in her grasp now hung before his face.

Akira blinked in confusion. He stared at the gloves, then up at Alfia's unreadable expression.

"…Huh? What's this about?"