The workshop's air hung with a quiet urgency beneath its usual calm. Luthar's boots landed in soft, deliberate thuds against the worn floorboards as Tsubaki led him through the narrow corridor toward the back office. His expression remained unreadable, fingers loosely curled at his sides. The faint hum of dormant machinery accompanied them like a distant undertone.
"Luthar, Hephaestus is waiting," Tsubaki said without turning. Her voice was low, clipped, and tinged with tension.
He gave a curt nod.
The door creaked open to reveal Hephaestus, her brow furrowed in concentration. At the sight of them, a flicker of relief crossed her face before her features settled into firm resolve.
"There's a situation," she muttered, gesturing toward the cluttered desk. "One that might concern you as well."
Luthar's gaze moved to the scattered papers—reports, sketches, Guild dispatches. He stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back.
"What is it?"
Hephaestus hesitated, then tapped a folder. "Bell and Welf are missing. A monster luring incident—a Pass Parade. They were forced down to the 16th floor."
Luthar's eyes narrowed. His mind swiftly reconstructed the likely scenario, but he remained silent, letting her continue.
"They've been missing since," she added quietly. "No sign of either of them."
"That's unfortunate," Luthar said flatly. "But not something that concerns me."
Tsubaki exchanged a look with Hephaestus. Her voice was sharper now. "But Lily hasn't returned either."
The name cut through the air like a blade.
"Lily?" Luthar's tone shifted, the disinterest bleeding away. "Why would she be missing? She had no reason to be with them. No reason to be near that kind of chaos."
"She went into the Dungeon yesterday but hasn't returned." Hephaestus clarified.
Luthar's eyes darkened. He knew the weapons she carried weren't ideal—limited by this world's primitive state—but they were more than sufficient for the upper fifteen floors.
"It's almost a day," Tsubaki added. "We've checked with the Guild and all known contacts. Her last message said she'd return in the morning".
Luthar turned slightly, lips drawn thin. How did she get entangled in this mess?
Hephaestus's voice softened. "We can't say for sure whether she was caught in the same incident. But if she was still down there when it happened…"
The thought trailed off. It didn't need finishing.
"Are you going to say anything?" she pressed.
"There's nothing to say," Luthar murmured. "I need to prepare. I'll go after her."
Hephaestus's eyes finally relaxed; she almost thought he was going to say something like it was a waste of time to go look for her. "We're organizing a rescue effort. I think you should join it."
He turned to face her fully. There was no hesitation in his bearing. "I will. But not everyone may appreciate my presence."
She pulled out a roster from the stack. "Hestia's gathered a team. Primarily from the Takemikazuchi Familia—Ouka and Mikoto are set to assist. I'm coordinating logistics. Hermes Familia might send a few, too. There may be others."
Luthar absorbed the information swiftly. "Tell me the time of dispatch. I need to return to the church to retrieve a few things."
"Well, you should be back before sunset," Hephaestus informed him. "We'll depart from Babel's base."
Without another word, Luthar turned and left, leaving both Tsubaki and Hephaestus with concern etched across their faces.
The path to the Crimson Church was familiar, each step echoing in rhythm with his internal calculations. Upon entering, he made his way to the central hall. His workbench sat silently beneath the watchful gaze of dormant constructs.
Luthar approached the recessed control panel and activated the hidden sequence with practised ease. Fingers danced across the switches.
A mechanical whirr stirred to life. With a low groan, the vault beneath the floor split open, revealing a cluster of servo-skulls. They hovered on spectral energy fields, their ocular lenses glowing faintly in the gloom, frames etched with sacred clockwork. The machine spirits stirred.
At his command, one servo-skull detached and dove into the vault's depths, reemerging moments later bearing a massive weapon: the Power Axe.
Forged from adamantium and ceramite, the weapon towered over him—bristling with energy conduits and arcane instruments. It resonated with restrained might, a marvel of divine-mechanical artifice.
The servo-skull laid the weapon before him. Luthar's hands moved with precision over the surface—unlocking seals, checking stabilizers, and activating dormant circuits.
Energy sparked along the Power Exe's frame. The glow intensified as its systems awakened, casting harsh light across the chamber. Around them, the servo-skulls resumed their vigil, awaiting new orders.
He hefted the weapon carefully. It was heavy and unwieldy to others—but not to him. He adjusted the energy regulator, and the low hum deepened into a steady growl.
One by one, he added enhancements: a targeting array, reinforced cells, and a stabilizing field generator. Each module snapped into place with exactitude.
Luthar's face remained impassive, but in his eyes, something burned—a glimmer of resolve. This was more than a weapon.
It was a promise.
Finished, he set the Power Exe onto a rack and began collecting secondary gear. He paused only briefly, steadying his breath.
Then a voice called from the hallway—sharp and laced with irritation.
"Luthar! Are you seriously going down there without me?"
He turned. Freya stood in the doorway, arms crossed, her expression a mixture of concern and challenge.
"Why not let me join you?" she asked, stepping forward. "I can feel this is going to be fun."
Luthar met her eyes, his voice even. "Then protect yourself. I'm not in the mood to save a goddess of beauty."
With that, he handed her a compact sidearm.
Freya's lips curled into a wry smile as she accepted it. "You don't have to worry. I still have enough charm to turn most threats away."
He didn't reply, turning back to his preparations. Freya lingered a moment longer before stepping closer.
He understood the kind of monsters he might have to face. This would also be a good opportunity to test his equipment, and the knowledge he'd gain would prove invaluable for designing weapons better suited to this world—without going overboard.
After completing his gear, Luthar walked to a sealed storage alcove embedded in the far wall. With a low hiss, the panel slid open, revealing rows of carefully folded garments. From within, he withdrew a single robe—black, smooth, and devoid of insignia. No Mechanicus cog. No divine crest. A simple but fortified rad-shielding robe, utilitarian and uncompromising in design.
He turned robe in hand, and met Freya's gaze as she stood near the doorway. Her arms were crossed casually, but the glint in her eyes suggested she had been observing everything a bit too closely.
"If you're planning to conceal your identity in the Dungeon, wear this," Luthar said, offering the robe.
Freya's lips curled into a playful smirk, though her eyes narrowed ever so slightly at the plain garment. "You couldn't find something more… elegant? Or is this your way of punishing me for following you?"
He stepped closer, tone flat. "This is not a clothing boutique. If you have something suitable, you're free to use it. This is just what works."
She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "So serious. You sound like a machine. Tell me, Luthar—should I just change here in front of you?"
Luthar didn't flinch. "If you're intent on teasing, at least read the situation. You don't need to undress. The robe goes over your clothing—it's a shielding layer, not a fashion statement."
The air shifted slightly as the hovering servo-skulls circled above, their mechanical lenses flickering red in the low light. Sacred machinery hummed softly, casting moving shadows across the chamber's stone walls.
Freya exhaled through her nose—a breath somewhere between annoyance and amusement—before stepping forward and taking the robe from his hands, her fingers brushing his as she did.
"You truly have no sense of flair," she murmured, almost to herself. "I'll wear it… but one day, I'll teach you how to loosen that iron grip of yours."
"You can try," Luthar said, already turning back to his equipment rack. "Just be ready when it's time to leave."
[ instead of Reading on some pirated website. Please Read on places where it's important. ]
[YOU can also support me on https://www.patreon.com/Silvervir?utm_campaign=creatorshare_creator ]