Chapter 1: The Sword Spirit in the Labyrinth City
Labyrinth City, Orario.
At the heart of the city, the towering Babel stood, scraping the sky. The streets of Orario radiated outward, dividing the city into eight distinct districts.
Yet, in the impoverished eastern quarter, desolation reigned in sharp contrast to the city’s bustling prosperity.
Collapsed houses were a common sight; moss-covered stone roads stretched ahead, and weeds nearly as tall as a person lined the paths, all testifying to the area’s decline.
In front of a long-abandoned church plaza, a slender boy stood alone beneath the blazing sun, ceaselessly swinging an iron sword in repetitive practice.
His clothes were soaked through with sweat as he drilled the most basic sword techniques—slash, thrust, cleave, raise...
With each swing of the iron blade, his frail figure seemed as if it might topple at any moment, but what drew the eye most was his left arm.
His skin shimmered with an unnatural pallor, streaked with eerie, prominent veins visible in the sunlight, as though afflicted by some monstrous plague.
The demonic, distorted hand had nearly spread to his shoulder, halted only by a heavy iron shackle, reinforced with chains at its end.
Without the restraining device, one could hardly imagine to what extent the affliction might have consumed him.
It was less a shackle for disease than a seal for some unspoken, dreadful existence.
Finishing his monotonous sword drills, Liang Yue exhaled a long, weary breath. Fatigue urged him to rest, yet when his focus was wholly on the path of the sword, time slipped away like sand through his fingers.
“So this is the way of the sword,” he mused. “It’s truly easy to lose oneself in it.” Yet, gazing at the desolate scene of the abandoned church, a faint melancholy colored his eyes.
As a traveler from another world, Liang Yue had been in this place for some time.
His arrival had been simple, utterly devoid of drama—he’d merely gone out at dawn after an all-nighter to buy breakfast and, by chance, crossed over.
He awoke in this world, which was, overall, not entirely unfamiliar—the Dungeon World.
A black-haired, blue-eyed girl claiming to be a “goddess” had taken him in; at her warm invitation, he’d joined the Hestia Familia.
To become the follower of a goddess...
As an anime fan, Liang Yue had learned from Hestia about Familias: factions formed of deities and mortals, bound by divine blessings and matters of labor and coin.
They varied widely in scale and character, but only where both deity and followers existed together could it be called a Familia.
He knew well the core concept of the divine blessing.
Once bestowed, a follower received something like a “status panel,” with attributes appearing on their back.
The essential point: the power to possess “Gifts”—latent abilities drawn out and slowly developed, including magic and other skills.
Adventurers were ranked by levels, defining their strength.
At present, Liang Yue was a Level 1 adventurer of the Hestia Familia.
He was, in fact, its only adventurer...
He’d joined at the Familia’s founding, developing from nothing and with no companions. But for a transmigrator, it was hardly a hellish beginning.
After all, transmigrators always arrived with a cheat—a “system.” For Liang Yue, this was the direct cause of his demonic left arm.
The “Soul of the Sword Template.”
It came from a certain cold-hearted company’s famously greedy game in his previous life—a game once explosively popular, Dungeon & Fighter.
Before his crossing, he’d been one of eight million dungeon warriors, often pulling all-nighters to raid, always with the “Soul of the Sword Template” at hand.
Liang Yue had to admit, it made sense.
The good news: he’d crossed over with a game class template, and landed in a dungeon world.
The bad news: it was the dungeon beneath Orario.
His cheat’s function was clean and simple: it granted the Soul of the Sword class template, stripped of costumes, upgrades, and other systems—purely a level-and-skill system.
He gained experience to level up, earned SP, and, meeting the requirements, could learn a variety of skills from the Soul of the Sword class.
Distill the essence, discard the dross!
...
“Liang Yue”
“Level: 1”
“Experience: 0%”
“Skill: Inner Ghost Swordsmanship”
“SP: 0”
A cheat stripped of its tedious, money-grabbing features, leaving only the leveling and skill system—Liang Yue couldn’t help but be fond of it.
The only headache: gaining experience.
Without the quests and dungeons of Arad, how could he level up the Soul of the Sword template here? That was the key!
“Experience points...”
“There are monsters in the dungeon, but will killing them grant experience, letting me level up as a swordsman?”
“Come to think of it, when will I truly begin my adventure...?”
Liang Yue found himself thinking again of that lively, unpretentious goddess—so cheerful, so poor, yet so steadfast in her responsibilities.
When he’d first joined, she’d vowed, “Liang Yue, my child, as my follower, you’ll have a place to stay and food to eat!”
Though this had meant being dragged to the slums.
When his left arm’s affliction appeared, she’d still pat her chest and declare, “Even if I have to work, I’ll save enough valis to cure you!”
“Caring for my Familia is a goddess’s duty!”
“...”
“If your injuries haven’t healed, how could I possibly let you venture into the dungeon?”
She’d said such things countless times. For this unreliable yet fiercely responsible goddess who had taken him in, her actions matched her character in the original story. He simply couldn’t dislike her.
Even if their life together was meager, Liang Yue found comfort here—a precarious peace, perhaps, but peace nonetheless.
Still, his desire for strength only grew.
He couldn’t rely forever on a goddess’s hard work to sustain him.
In this dungeon world, defeating monsters yielded magic stones and materials, which adventurers could exchange for valis at the Guild.
To secure a place for himself here, he needed more than money...
Strength was essential!
At that moment, at the far end of the church road, a girl in a white dress approached the Familia’s hideout with light, quick steps.
Her appearance wavered between girlhood and maidenhood—a beauty almost too perfect, blending innocence with a spirited air. Liang Yue had never seen such a lovely face.
Her long, silky black hair was tied into twin tails. Despite her youthful features, her figure was inexplicably mature.
She wore white sleeves and, in her hands, carried a box brimming with fried potatoes.
Hestia.
In some ways, she was a legend in Orario—a goddess known as a disaster on North Street, the “poverty goddess” to many adventurers.
She noticed the boy sitting before the church.
Was he waiting for her?
Hestia’s smile bloomed brilliantly, and she waved from afar. “Liang Yue! That’s enough training for today!”
“There were plenty of ingredients left at the stall...”
“Freshly fried potato wedges, seasoned with pepper and salt.” Without the slightest air of divinity, she joined him at the ruined church.
She naturally sat beside Liang Yue and opened the steaming paper box.
Her delicate hands, clad in white sleeves, were gentle and graceful. Noting his left hand’s inconvenience, she deftly skewered a potato wedge with a bamboo stick and held it to his lips.
But this time, the feeding did not go as smoothly as usual.
“...Lady Hestia, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you.” He made no effort to distance himself from the goddess, turning to meet her gaze.
“It’s something important.”
“...”
“Tired of fried potatoes every day?” Hestia asked softly, her voice tinged with complex tension.
She dared not imagine the worst, but it was a reality she had to face. From Liang Yue’s potential, he could easily join a powerful Familia and live in far better conditions.
There was no need for him to suffer with her—living in a basement, eating cheap meals...
She did not delude herself; reality was clear.
She steadied her heart, reminding herself that a good goddess must consider her follower’s future.
Becoming a worthy goddess was hard, but she told herself she could manage, just a little longer.
“Liang Yue.”
“I respect your decision...”
“Really?”
Liang Yue was startled by her ready acceptance. “Lady Hestia, I want to venture into the dungeon.”
“After all...”
“To become a true swordsman, one must experience real battle.”
“Ah?”
The sudden turn caught Hestia off guard. She stared at Liang Yue’s crimson eyes, pure and earnest.
Her anxious heart finally settled.
Curious about his true motivations, she asked seriously, “Can you tell me the real reason?”
“Liang Yue...”
“Gaining strength is vital in Orario.”
“And besides...”
Liang Yue shrugged helplessly, his tone tinged with embarrassment. “As your follower, I can’t accept living off your hard work forever.”