With a callous, otherwise blank, expression he turned his gaze away from her.

Neia blinked a few times having heard of his proclamation. His true name was Fenrir? It didn't really ring any bells to her, but she could only assume that it held divinity behind it. Her eyes traced over towards the false sky above.

It was hard to believe this place was created, but there was no other explanation for a place that looked bigger on the inside than it was on the outside. The sky had begun to change, like a day and night cycle.

She could tell it was much quicker than the actual time outside, she knew that for sure. She stroked her chin with her fingers, seeing how lively the place was becoming a night befell the strange realm.

A set of blood-curdling howls could be heard from every direction, even behind them. It was just like the one he had released earlier, but in many more numbers, overlapping with one another.

It nearly sent a chill down her spine. Were they his brood? Or were they his pack? Had he created them too? Her eyes set on the man who had captured her, paralyzed her and even threatened her with death. Yet, he had only walked with her under his arm like she was a piece of lumber.

She didn't know to be amazed or to be insulted, but all the same, his Godly touch had graced her. How many humans did one know, who had been touched by such a being?

Had she been the first human to ever come in contact with such a thing? One day, she had achieved so much more than she had ever done in the Paladin Order. Even though technically she had never left them as she was but a Squire.

"As your Squire..." She began speaking as she gestured a hand towards him, immediately taking his attention as her voice reached him. Neia was surprised by his attentiveness, but all the same, he was no longer smiling like he had been when talking moments ago. He still seemed lost to her.

"Yes?" The eight-foot-tall self-proclaimed God shifted his entire body to face her alone. His two-toned eyes, ashen blue and firey ember hues, animately rested upon her face in a mild glare.

Oddly enough, their glares seemed to match as it was part of her habit to the same. Though his eyes were not as murderous or villainess hers, they were beautiful to look at, even captivating. It was as if she was staring into the eyes of a hungry beast, a confidant predator, a wolf staring back at a humble sheep.

"What do you expect of me, Fenrir-sama? You are a God, I am but a mere human being compared to your divinity... You even spared my life, despite my trespass into your magnificent home." Neia used his true name, or at least the one he had given her. She knew of four gods, or six if she counted that of the Slane Theocracy. If this was going to be another addition to the pantheons, she would be his devote follower as he was a living God unlike all the rest, Neia could be his Paladin.

The First Paladin to follow the God of Wolves and Shadows, God made Flesh.

"I expect you to serve me and entertain my whims, there is much you haven't seen here, girl." The imposing figure didn't take her eyes off of her, and yet it felt so empowering.

That was until the words that he shared rang in the back of her head, "M-More? There's more!?" She raised her voice slightly, somewhat horrified at the realization that there was more than just this plane of existence within the tower she had entered.

Her gaze moved towards the 'tower within a tower' and was mystified. More Floors like this one? How different were they going to be? Was she going to explore them...? The excitement of adventure reverberated against her ribs from the very depths of her heart.

"Excluding this floor from the full count, there are ten others, all of which have traps waiting for intruders..." His eyes drifted away from her and moved back towards the sandstone Labyrinth. "If those Paladins of your Order went further in, they would have surely perished."

"They left me for dead," letting her eyes fall to the dusty ground at her feet, eying the sand and the dirt as it overlapped one another. "Tripped me in order to survive, took my task away from me." Her fingers balled into fists, their nails digging into her palms lightly.

"And you will be avenged," his eyes left the sandstone structure and went to her sword which was sheathed at her hip in a plain scabbard. "First, I must see what you can do, where your talent lie. Only then will I know how to use you, what to take from you and what to give."

"What to take from...?" What was there to take from her that she already hadn't lost? She never had anyone's respect. Her eyes had cursed her since birth, and her mother beat her when she complained about it, as it was something she inherited from her father.

Nonetheless, she looked up to her mother, and even more so to her father who was part of the most elite group within the Paladin Order. Again, she thought, what was there he could take?

What would he take?

Hesitantly her hand trailed along with the knob to the hilt of her sword, before grasping onto it. Drawing the weapon from its sheath, she clasped her other hand beneath the other. Moving into an offensive stance.

"Do not hesitate, your weapon is harmless towards me. Now, steel yourself, strike me." What he was about to see next, he didn't expect, she swung at him with the intent to strike just as she was ordered and yet... The use of her sword was informal, low aptitude. Catching the tip of the blade between two fingers, his gaze remained down at her. "Are you able to pull it from my grasp?"

Neia gave the weapon two distinctive tugs, using all her weight to do so. They didn't move. She wiggled at the hilt, twisted at it. It was as if the weapon had impaled itself inside that of a rock, it wouldn't budge aside from the natural flexibility that kept it from breaking. She couldn't even raise or lower the hilt, let alone slip it out from between his fingers.

"N-no..." Was the only answer she could give before he yanked the weapon from her hands, putting her almost in complete disbelief as she stumbled forward. A second later his hand steadied her and she centered her gaze on his face as he proceeded to toss the weapon over his shoulder as if it were a piece of trash.

It wasn't even sharp enough to penetrate the ground as it landed and immediately fell flat.

"That is what I will take away, it's useless to you. Your form, sloppy. Training without the latent capacity for such a tool doesn't suit you," Fenrir shook his head as he remained cool-headed.

A frown decorated her fragile-looking lips, her feral gaze once more falling to the side. "People have scolded me and told me I ought to focus more on training up my sword skills," she shook her head as she seemed utterly disappointed with herself. "Though I am better with a bow, I can hardly call myself an Archer."

"I am well versed in three types of combat. If you find your talent at something, you focus on that. Sometimes, you will never grasp the full meaning behind a skill and sometimes, it comes naturally."

Neia blinked at what appeared to be advice that contradicted those of others, rather than looking down on archery, he was pointing her towards her.

"Sword and Shield, they are not what makes a Paladin incredible, let alone a Holy Knight. If your skills are not pliable, you will fall in battle."

"Are you saying, Fenrir-sama... I should focus on Archery and ignore swordplay?" She didn't quite understand why he said she should go towards what she finds herself innately good at, while others had scolded her for such things or even looked down upon her.

"Tell me, Neia, what makes a Paladin? Their Vow, or their sword?" His turn of phrase was almost philosophical and something that may be asked by many who did not understand a Paladin.

"My father always said that a Paladin is a person who expresses their belief in Justice through their Actions. A Sword does not define its Paladin, for a Paladin should rush into battle with just their fists for what they believe in," Neia wanted to sound just as worldly as he. Though when she shared this little bit of information about her father, she began to wonder if her mother beating her was actually justified punishment for her complaints of her father.

Chuckling lightly at her tone of speech, "Interesting," he reached out and pat her on the head. This patting turned into ruffling, more so enjoying the action himself, as she had answered the question far better than he expected. Her description reminded him of a friend, Touch Me, from the Guild of Ainz Ooal Gown when he was once part of their virtual family.

A sad look danced on his face as he continued to feel her hair beneath his hand. It was soft, perhaps she had washed it, or it was always that way. "Correct... One's Actions define them."

Neia was never used to someone touching her head, especially for this long. Eventually, she just let her head lull side to side with his hand, giving a slight smile due to the praise.

Fenrir then paused for a brief moment before withdrawing his hand, letting it fall down to his side. For a brief instant, their eyes locked liked they have done prior, though this time she wasn't afraid.

The admiration for a God, a creator of such a place of where she stood, was beaming up at him. At the same time, however, her eyes still managed to glare right at him due to her inherited ferocity from her father.

When he broke eye contact and began reaching into his item box, Neia blinked. Was that some sort of magic he was using? He wasn't hiding it from her, it was almost as if it was some sort of treat. Within a split second, he withdrew his hand and revealed a small ring before holding it out towards her.

"What... What is that?" Neia flushed in the face at the thoughts that immediately came to mind. She didn't understand why he was holding out a silver ring with a blue gem embedded upon it.

"It's a magic item called the Ring of Sustenance, it'll allow you to remain awake for days without being affected by the lack of sleep, food or water. You might want to try it on, girl, it'll match your tunic," Huffed Fenrir with a raise of his brow, he sounded callous and stern again, even after being proud of her for answering the question correctly. Despite how cool was being though, Fenrir didn't sound bitter at all.

Short of timid, she slowly reached out and took the ring into her hand as it was given to her. She stared at the item for a few seconds, before turning her gaze to him.

He was giving her such an item? Wouldn't it be super expensive, an asset worth keeping?

Neia's eyes wrestled with the reflection of stars from above that caused the ring to glow briefly before she slipped it over her ring finger of her right hand. Almost immediately she felt as if her hunger, exhaustion, and thirst had been stilled completely.

The ring was real! In the fact that it worked, her eyes widened at the effects which she had never felt before. It as truly a magic ring. It was as if this ring was a sign, to her, that she was truly accepted in his eyes.

An instant had gone by when she heard him pull something else out of what appeared to be nothingness, his item box. She could only stare at a weapon which he held out to her, a bow.

Not only was it a bow, but it didn't have a string. Its design was sleek, gilded in shimmering gold with Celtic designs etched into its exterior and after a few seconds of staring at it... She swore she saw little vibrant arching tendrils of holy light flickering about as if it was reaching out to her.

Just like the ring, the bow was imbued with some sort of magic power.

To Fenrir, this weapon was nothing but a mere low-data magic bow, but judging by her level in which he had discerned, it would be more useful to herself.

"Fenrir-sama?" She looked up to him as the weapon folded into in two as if to be sheathed within her scabbard before he nudged it out towards her direction. "What kind of weapon is this?"

Even before he answered, she accepted the weapon in both hands and stared at its craftmanship.

"That bow will replace your sword, use it to express your belief in Justice, for it will aid you in becoming stronger in both your defense an the defense of others." Though he had no idea what her sense of Justice was, he still encouraged her, in order to enable a change.

Shifting the item into one hand, the bow folded outward again, revealing its sleek Celtic form. Her eyes widened as when she reached her other hand forward, she could feel the magic power building up in the weapon. As she grasped at the air with her fingers, she pulled her hand back as if she were notching an arrow.

A beam emitted from one end of the bow to the other, an arrow forming strongly as she continued to pull. As she was turned in his direction, so was the bow. Fenrir reached over with two fingers and lightly guided her weapon away from facing him.

"Don't pull it too far back," he warned as he could see the reflection of the glowing arrow in her eyes. She was fascinated, taken in by the sight alone.

She could feel the power running through her and into the bow and from the bow and into her. It was as if this very weapon he had gifted her along with the ring, was connected to her, recognizing her as its host. Lowering the bow, she eased the arrow as the magical energy then dissipated. Neia could only stare at the weapon as she now held it to her side, this was a treasure, one that she never wanted to throw away or allow anyone else to get their hands on.

Her attention immediately snapped to him, her cloak shifting in the wind as she turned so swiftly. "Fenrir-sama! I, a mere commoner, cannot express my gratitude... But isn't this too much?" An aura of determination had appeared to surround her as she then dropped to one knee. "Divine One, how do you value me this much...? I've invaded your home... I... Why do you spoil me?"

That was when he gave a smile, whether it was going to stay on his face though was another question, "You are the only one who knows my name. It is only right for you to be rightfully equipped to spread it."

"I..." Neia didn't know what to say, she couldn't with a God. He saw value in her in which many didn't see in her. They saw her as creepy, weird or strange, maybe even talentless and weak. "In the name of Justice, I will be the one who spreads your name. I will become stronger under you, your enemies will be mine, and should I stray from this taken path may my God strike me."

It was an Oath, one that completely caught Fenrir off guard, lips parted and his eyes a quite a bit wider than before. Despite all the roleplaying on YGGDRASIL, nothing at all up until now felt real.

An Oath of Fealty, so formal and direct. She gave him permission to strike her should she stray from the path in which she had just chosen.

After a brief staring contest between the two and a feeling of awkwardness filling her chest, he finally spoke aloud, a subtle smile visible upon his lips. "Rise, my Squire," Fenrir proclaimed with a kind gentle gesture of his hand for her to bring herself to her feet.

Without question, Neia rose as she was ordered to, sheathing the weapon away into her scabbard. It fit almost perfectly, though not all the way in.

"Now... As I have said before, you will tell me everything you know about your homeland and the other lands that surround it. Don't leave anything out," Fenrir wasn't threatening her this time, as he held out an arm to hook onto. "In the meantime, let's go to the next level."

Slightly confused as to why he wanted her to take his arm in order to go to the next level, she reached out and hooked her arm with his. That's when she noticed a series of rings on each one of his fingers.

There was one in particular though that appeared like a motif representing the tower itself.

Suddenly the item on his finger gave an indistinct glow before she knew it, they were no longer between the two sets of Mazes. Instead, however, they were in the center of an arctic region surrounded by mountains. Snow was falling from above, and in the distance was a cabin.

Back when this was just a game, the cabin itself was just a prop, but the interior was decorated nicely through the impassable window. Now, he could see inside of it as if it was fully functional, a real house.

Fenrir was surprised at the sight and as he marched forward, the snow crunched their feet. It took a few seconds, but he was able to jiggle the door open and lead her inside where it was much warmer. Though it was clear to him, the cold wasn't bothering him at all, but she was shivering.

...

Neia sat across from the self-proclaimed God named Fenrir, her hands resting on the smooth top of a chestnut-colored table, large enough for just the two of them. About a dozen coins littered the table, her pouch sitting beside her hands.

The fireplace was lit, the window was frosted but slowly clearing as the interior of the room was heating up. It felt good to be out of the cold, though her cloak was rather wet and sticking to her shoulders. She ignored it for the time being.

Whether or not both names that he had given her were really his, she wasn't sure, but that didn't matter one iota. The one thing she did know, was that he was not human and was far more powerful than anyone she had ever seen before. He had created an entire world inside of a tower, he had created creatures and people she had never seen. Wolves, she never thought them any greater than a beastman, and yet here he was opposite from her with his hands clasped together in front of him.

The Slaine Theocracy had lost contact with them, and their only real outside connection was the Re-Estize Kingdom, but they aren't much help. It appears that both Kingdoms were unstable.

The South didn't respect the Holy Queen's rule due to her being a woman. Remedios and her antics that she knew of as being unfit for leadership and only having been placed there because of talent.

She spoke of magic training and how Paladins needed a certain level of clerical skill. She even spoke of martial art skills, which to him seemed derived from the use of magic. These skills though made him curious.

Being a squire seemed to have been good for her at least, but he saw that it was a waste of her time. So much information, so much basic knowledge. It was almost as if she had been wasting her talents.

"So, you've never heard of YGGDRASIL, the world tree... Or Niflheim..." A light chuckle left his lips as he looked over the coin which was by his hand. She had told him a large number of things, mostly the history of the Northern and Southern regions of the Holy Kingdom.

"I am sorry, Fenrir-sama, I have no heard of these places. I can only assume they are as magnificent as your home here..." Her eyes trailed over to the frosted window momentarily before returning to him. "To think there was more than one world than our own on top of many other planes, it is just overwhelming. Would I be able to see the realm of the Gods? Is it waiting for you?" Her eyes were wide, excited, friendly and accepting despite their feral-looking nature.

Overall she was receiving things well, and she was trying her damnedest to remain calm. Still, the wonders he spoke of, a series of worlds where Gods waged war on one another was fascinating.

Neia though knew that she didn't have much to offer in ways of information. Heck, she had little to offer in muscle or even ability and he was still talking to her. It was as if he was yearning for her presence more than just knowledge though. She only knew things about her world, and her world was small compared to that of others who traveled and even compared to his.

Since she was a child she always wanted to explore the world, go to other cities and meet other people. Her justice was protecting the weak, protecting humanity from those who wished to devour it.

She let out a soft sigh as she leaned back in her chair, looking over the much taller man who still towered over her even as they were both seated at the same table. He was even leaning forward in his chair towards her, but it did her no favors.

"Pfff..." Slowly deflating, her breath pushed her lip forward slightly as her eyes dropped to the tabletop ahead of her. She had given him all she knew.

"You feeling alright, girl?" Fenrir asked which immediately garnered her attention, not expecting someone so high and mighty to ask how she was feeling. "I can put more wood on the fire." Gesturing towards the wall beside the mantle of the fireplace, was a long row of cut logs.

"Huh... Uh..." She clenched her jaw as if she was feeling guilty of worrying the supposed God which had taken her into the log cabin to get out of the cold. "N-no I'm fine," she nodded lightly before she went to look out the window again.

The next thing she saw she wasn't really sure what she was seeing, either way, her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. A muscle figure with shriveled oxygen colored skin, nearly the color of ash was standing before the window. His head was bowed forward, out of sight, but she could tell.. He was more skeleton than flesh, but she saw no bone, but a creature with wings that looked to imitate an angel and yet it had a holy aura. Was it not undead? It looked to represent the waste disease often found on wildlife, or pestilence the embodied of sickness and decay.

She couldn't move as it slowly lifts its head. His face was without visible eyeballs, but there were two floating sapphires within the blackened sockets. Sharp teeth littered his mouth, and his tongue looked like a giant worm, a puppet's tongue.

She gulped heavily, wanted to scurry away from the window. Its wings were just as shriveled and decayed as its body that appeared to be almost filled with blackness entirely. Her eyes rested upon the halo which hovered just a foot above its head.

Was that an angel? What kind of angel is that? All she could do was stare, she couldn't move, even as the creature eyed her with such curiosity and a strange sense of envy.

"Pelleon? It took you that long to find us here?" Despite hearing Fenrir speak with a chuckle to his voice, Neia could tell he was also disturbed by the appearance of the creature, but he appeared to know it.

Slowly but surely, Neia exhaled, an uncomfortably quick sense of safety coming over her as she knew it was a friendly, simply because he had called it by name.

"Ah... Master... Of the Citadel..." His toneless short and raspy voice faded in and could be heard in both of their ears as his speech seemed to travel through the cabin walls unhindered. "You... You.. have brought a guest... Into our humble abode... What is it's purpose...? Do they hold your Arcane Mark...?"

"This is Neia, my Squire." He gestured faintly towards the woman across from him. The creature was scary, even as it stood on one leg like a crane and kept its arms hugging his bare torso.

"Ah... Neia, a splendid name... For a Squire..." Its eyes traced over her apparel, she looked to be a Paladin and she had pride in that much to be seen. "Did you choose it yourself, Master...?"

"Her parents chose it," Fenrir chuckled as he scratched the side of his head.

Neia was flushing in the face, not knowing why she was being referred to as an 'it' not once but twice. While in some way it had made her curious about what it really was, it was clear this thing saw her as lesser than itself.

That may be though because it was powerful, it saw her as nothing more than a pet for its master. It seemed she had a lot to prove to not only herself and him, but his followers as well.

"Fenrir-sama... If I may," her eyes remained on Pelleon as she spoke, still taking his attention. In the following seconds, it seemed Fenrir had caught onto what she wanted to know.

"He is an Angel of the First Sphere, a Cherub, though his wounds and appearance aren't as severe as they might seem. Each of his dead-looking shriveled feathers represents a wing. Pelleon is the Guardian of this particular level, he doesn't have visitors often... Right, Pelleon?"

"...RIght... Master..."

Neia let her eyes slip-on back over to Fenrir with a light sigh escaping her lips.

"Unsettling, I know. Not the type of Angels you're used to, am I right?" Fenrir had gotten a bit more comfortable, quite a bit more than he was before. She was able to keep a note of that as he was quickly adapting to the creature's presence.

Why would a God such as himself fear one of his own followers? This question didn't reach her lips, nor did she want to speak out loud, in case she was wrong... Insulting a god was nothing more than a swift death sentence, right?

Neia brought her lips into a small curved smile, nodding her head in agreement with the words he had said. Many of the angels that she had seen were only of the third or fourth tier, anything of the seventh was from the Slaine Theocracy and she had never seen those.

The fact that he had an Angel though in his service, meant that he had to be a God, no? This creature could speak for itself. It lacked the generic armored humanoid, it wasn't wearing robes.

This Angel wasn't summoned! It was created with a mind of its own, and even a name, which made her grow even more excited about just being here.

"How many angels do you have in your service?" Suddenly she went blurting out as she leaned into the table, she didn't know what came over her, but he didn't seem to restrain her curiosity at all. Her hands were grasping tightly on the edge of her end of the stand.

"Three Angels. Pelleon a Cherub, Nidrennyius an Ophan and Lucifael a Seraph. They are all members of the First Sphere, Lucifael standing on top of their hierarchy." The way Fenrir explained it seemed almost natural, but strange. Their names rolled off his tongue with much familiarity, they surely had to be his creation, yes? "Speaking of which, since you are serving as my Squire, you must meet the Guardians."

His eyes moved towards Pelleon before she could even part her lips to reply, "Collect Gravelyn on the first floor and have her arrange for Lucifael to bring our subordinates to the throne chamber."

"Yes... Master..." Pelleon flashed out of existence having used his ability to teleport out of the area, and down the lower level of the Citadel in which they had originally come from. This left them alone in relative silence whilst excluding the sound of crackling flames.

"He... Vanished?" Neia blinked several times before rubbing her eyes at Angel's sudden absence seconds after the order was given. The idea of such a creature teleporting frightened her, plus the fact that it had sat in the window for God knows how long and just watched them.

"Yes, he has free reign of the complex, as do many of the other Guardians, though they do have their posts." As he crossed his arms and leaned back against his seat, his eyes traced over her.

Neia wasn't ignorant of the gaze, though its meaning she couldn't quite comprehend as he still seemed lost and needing of company. It was hard to understand, now that she found he had more talkative companions here before her arrival. Perhaps he had grown bored with his creations? No, that didn't seem quite right. He could just create more, couldn't he?

"Who is Gravelyn?" The inquiry was innocent, not quite fitting the name on anyone in particular.

"She is the Dragonoid you saw prior to coming here, the one that you held your breath upon seeing," Fenrir hadn't been oblivious of this fact at all. Though he did find it rather funny. "She is a Champion of Light and daughter of the late Sepulchure, an Ancient Dark Dragonoid."

"An... An Ancient Dragonoid...?" She could only imagine if that was the girl's true form, or if there was something even larger beneath. Perhaps she was correct on comparing her to the Dragon Queen? It was clear though, she was on a whole different level.

Fenrir nodded his head almost formally.

"That's amazing, Fenrir-sama. I've never heard of such a thing and a Champion of Light?" Neia was far from surprised by the title, but it still kept her thoughts in an exciting tumble of motion. "A Holy Knight? Like our Paladin Order?"

Neia was wondering what kind of title Champion of Light entailed. It sounded important in a way that they were chosen by a god or deity. She was also curious about how she could be a Champion of light while being born from something of darkness.

Was she a living contradiction?

What was she like?

Would she train her in the ways of a 'true' Paladin?

Was her name Gravelyn a play on words? How many people had she put down, killed and buried into a grave? The name itself seemed to have some sort of meaning to it that he presumably wasn't going to explain.

"She can cast higher tier level magics than just about any human you've described. She's a Paladin Grandmaster and a High Cleric... Except in comparison to your Paladin Order, her blades don't break as easily, and she doesn't trip her comrades in order to flee for her life." Fenrir in a way disapproved of the comparison, seeing her people as cowards. He did not see her Paladins in anywhere near the true thing.

If they couldn't stand up against his aura of fear, they would not be able to stand against his killer intent. Paladins that had nothing or no one to live for, and only sought Justice for themselves, were no Paladins at all.

"A Grandmaster?" The word reminded her of Remedios, a woman she detested for being able to become the leader of the organization she had dreamed of being apart of.

"She has the power to slaughter your entire Order singlehandedly if you're wishing to understand how powerful she is..." His head slowly lulled to the side with a faint smile across his lips, his voice had been far too casual when stating that Gravelyn could destroy everything and everyone she knew.

Neia if she were willing to face him as an enemy, would've shat bricks upon hearing such a thing. However, if her country were to regain its lost glory since its continental isolation and continued corruption, she was sure someone like he himself was needed along with his followers.

There could be no denying how powerful he was already, making some of the bravest people in her Order to retreat. She wondered though, just how much could her parents have taken? Would they have run as well? Did that make them worthy of serving him? She wondered what his world views were, what this God wanted to accomplish.

A wolf had a pack mentality, these guardians perhaps were family to him. The one thing she did note though was the fact he didn't use any honorifics with his companions of any kind. Yet they freely called him Master without using his actual name.

This made her curious as to how close they were, or in another case, how far apart they may truly be. Choosing to take a slightly more relaxed posture in the chair, her gaze engulfed him with her attention.

"In a short while, we will be joining the Floor Guardians in the Throne Room," His eyes drifted over her cloak for a short few seconds before tapping his finger on the flat tabletop.

"Fenrir-sama?"

"You can remove the cloak, this can be your cabin if you wish, there is a low likelihood anyone would be able to get passed the Labrinyths below without a guide of sorts. Even then, they'd have to be let through." In the way that he was speaking, he doubted the power of anyone under the level of thirty, but in reality, it was really around level eighty that a person would need.

Though coming to this floor would mean certain death unless they were level ninety or above. Based on the difficulty alone, the next levels going up needed several levels one hundred characters go get by. This was the primary reason why players didn't get passed the fourth floor.

Neia was caught off guard by the assurance of being able to take off her cloak, as well as being offered this as a place for her to stay. While it might be isolating, her eyes trailed around the cabin.

There seemed to be a bedroom, a bathroom and where they were now seemed to be living quarters and dining rooms. It had everything a single person needed to meet any expected living standards. At the same not, not that it came to mind, but a home for a small couple.

"Pelleon-dono wouldn't mind?" Neia asked as she turned to face him, fidging with the kite-shaped metal pendant on her cloak before pulling it off up and over her head. She then rested the item against the back of her chair.

"I doubt it, he might be moving down to the first floor. Gravelyn may be moving to the third floor, due to her preferences for plantlife and forestry." He gave a slight yawn before leaning on the table, resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he elbow bent to support it.

With the cloak off, her shoulders and collarbone were partially visible as the collar was a wide oval outlined in blue like the rest of her white tunic. "Would I be able to get some of my things at some point, or will they be provided?"

"Your essentials, including clothing, will be provided. More facilities will be built in order to fit demand if necessary," Jack assured her as there were plenty of floors within the citadel. "If this location is no longer suitable, you may be moved to another."

Neia smiled a bit at this, flushing at the face as she was a little nervous now. "I see..."