MY DAY WITHOUT MY GRANDFATHER

Lucas had returned home safely, thanks to the blue slime that had carried him out of the dungeon. The young man was utterly exhausted, his body battered and bruised from the battles he had fought. He lay in his bed, sound asleep, unaware of the tragedy that had befallen him.

Behind the scenes, the city of Fluorescent was in mourning. News of Sir Dwayne's passing had spread like wildfire, and the entire city was shrouded in an atmosphere of grief and loss. Sir Dwayne had been a legendary figure, a veteran dungeon capturer with countless achievements to his name. His contributions to the city and the country were immeasurable, and his death was a tremendous blow to all who knew him.

People from all walks of life, fellow dungeon capturers, knights, and ordinary citizens, gathered to pay their respects to the fallen hero. The streets were lined with mourners, their heads bowed in solemnity as they paid tribute to a man who had dedicated his life to protecting their city.

As Lucas slept, blissfully unaware of the somber events unfolding outside his window, he began to experience a vivid and unsettling nightmare. In his dream, he found himself back in the dungeon, surrounded by the eerie darkness and the oppressive silence that had become so familiar during his recent adventures.

But this time, there was something different, something deeply unsettling in the air. He felt a sense of foreboding that seemed to permeate every corner of the dungeon. As he ventured further into the depths, he came upon a shadowy figure, barely discernible in the dim light.

It was his grandfather, Sir Dwayne, but he appeared different, changed. His once-vibrant eyes were now empty, devoid of the warmth and wisdom that had always defined him. He moved slowly, almost mechanically, as if in a trance.

Lucas called out to him, his voice trembling with fear and confusion. "Grandfather, is that you? What's happened?"

But Sir Dwayne did not respond. He continued to advance, his footsteps echoing ominously in the narrow passageway. Lucas followed, his heart pounding in his chest as a growing sense of dread enveloped him.

They reached a chamber deep within the dungeon, and Lucas recoiled in horror at what he saw. It was a grotesque tableau of death and decay, a nightmarish scene that seemed to stretch on for eternity. The chamber was filled with the lifeless bodies of dungeon capturers, their faces contorted in agony, their forms twisted and mutilated.

In the center of it all stood Sir Dwayne, his hands stained with blood, his eyes vacant and hollow. He was surrounded by the corpses of monsters, their lifeless forms lying in grotesque heaps. It was a scene of unimaginable carnage, a battlefield of horrors that defied all reason.

Lucas could no longer contain his terror. He screamed, his voice echoing through the chamber, but Sir Dwayne remained unresponsive, lost in whatever nightmarish trance had gripped him.

Suddenly, the dream shifted, and Lucas found himself back in his own bedroom, drenched in cold sweat. He sat up in bed, his heart racing, his mind reeling from the vivid and disturbing vision he had just experienced.

It took a moment for him to collect his thoughts, to realize that it had all been a nightmare. But as the fog of sleep lifted, he became acutely aware of the weight of grief that hung in the air.

Lucas stepped out of his house, his eyes scanning the bustling streets of Fluorescent in search of his beloved grandfather, Sir Dwayne. The city, once vibrant and alive, now seemed draped in a heavy shroud of grief. The atmosphere was thick with sorrow, and the weight of the world pressed down on Lucas's shoulders.

As he walked through the cobbled streets, he couldn't help but notice that the eyes of the people around him were fixed upon him. Whispers and hushed conversations followed his every step, and he felt the weight of their collective gaze. It was as though the entire city knew something he didn't.

Desperation gnawed at his heart as he approached strangers and friends alike, questioning them about his grandfather's whereabouts. But he was met with either stony silence or dismissive glances. It was as though no one was willing to acknowledge his existence.

Lucas's anxiety grew with each passing moment, his heart pounding in his chest as he traversed the familiar streets that now felt so foreign. He couldn't understand why everyone was treating him with such indifference, and a sense of dread settled in the pit of his stomach.

Then, out of the sea of faces, a voice rang out, cutting through the muted murmurs of the crowd. "There he is! It's Lucas!"

Lucas turned toward the source of the voice, his eyes wide with hope. Perhaps this person had information about his grandfather. But as he made eye contact with the speaker, he realized that hope had been cruelly misplaced.

A man, his face contorted with anger and accusation, strode forward through the crowd. "You! It's your fault! Your grandfather is dead because of you!"

Lucas's heart plummeted, and he felt as though the ground had been ripped out from under him. The accusation hung in the air like a heavy storm cloud, and he struggled to find his voice.

"No, that's not true," he managed to stammer, his voice quivering with emotion. "My grandfather can't be—"

But before he could finish his sentence, another voice joined in, and then another. The crowd's anger and blame descended upon him like a torrential rainstorm. They shouted accusations, assigning him the blame for Sir Dwayne's death.

Lucas's world shattered into a million pieces as he tried to comprehend the accusations being hurled at him. He had loved his grandfather with all his heart, and the thought that his actions might have led to Sir Dwayne's demise was unbearable.

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he clenched his fists, his voice cracking with desperation. "No, please, you have to listen! I would never—"

But his words were drowned out by the cacophony of accusations and anger. The crowd closed in around him, their faces twisted with rage and resentment. It was as though they needed a scapegoat, someone to blame for their grief, and Lucas had become that unfortunate target.

In that moment, Lucas made a choice. He couldn't change the minds of those who were determined to see him as the villain in this tragedy. Instead, he would honor his grandfather's memory by proving himself, by becoming the person Sir Dwayne had always believed he could be.

With newfound resolve, he wiped away his tears and straightened his posture. The weight of the accusations bore down on him, but he refused to crumble beneath their burden. He would carry the memory of his grandfather with him, and he would strive to become the person Sir Dwayne had raised him to be.

As the crowd's cries of blame continued to echo in his ears, Lucas walked away from the accusing throng, his heart heavy but his spirit unbroken. 

As the accusations rained down upon Lucas, and the crowd closed in around him, a glimmer of hope emerged from an unexpected source. A young woman with a radiant aura stepped forward, her presence commanding attention. She raised her hand to silence the angry voices and gazed at the crowd with unwavering determination.

"Why are you shouting at him?" she asked, her voice carrying an air of authority.

The crowd, taken aback by her sudden appearance, fell into a hushed silence. All eyes turned to her, and Lucas watched in amazement as this stranger took a stand on his behalf.

The woman's eyes met Lucas's, and a subtle recognition passed between them. She seemed to recognize him, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity in return.

"Lucas," she said, her voice clear and unwavering, "the grandson of the late Sir Dwayne, whom I arrived too late to save."

Lucas's heart skipped a beat. How did she know his grandfather? And why had she come to his aid now, when the rest of the city seemed poised to blame him?

The woman turned back to the crowd, her gaze stern. "This young man is not to blame for what has transpired. The true culprit here is the malevolent force lurking within the dungeon."

Her words hung in the air like a soothing balm, gradually diffusing the tension that had gripped the crowd. Some among them nodded in agreement, realizing the validity of her argument.

She stepped closer to Lucas and offered him a hand, her demeanor softening. "My name is Dena," she said, her eyes locking onto his. "We appear to be of the same age."

Lucas, still bewildered by the sudden turn of events, accepted her hand. It was warm and reassuring, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort in her presence.

"Dena," he repeated, his voice filled with gratitude, "thank you for standing up for me."

She smiled, a genuine and caring expression that melted away the last of Lucas's anxiety. "It's the least I could do," she replied. "Now, let's find out the truth behind your grandfather's death and clear your name."

Together, hand in hand, they walked away from the accusing crowd, leaving behind the weight of false accusations. As they ventured into the unknown, Lucas couldn't help but feel that this chance encounter with Dena might be the beginning of a new chapter in his life, one filled with both challenges and unexpected bonds.

As they moved through the city streets, the sun setting behind them, Lucas and Dena shared stories of their lives, their dreams, and their aspirations. It was a chance to escape the shadow of grief and blame that had hung over Lucas, and he found himself drawn to Dena's unwavering support and compassionate nature.

In the days that followed, they embarked on a journey to uncover the truth about the malevolent force within the dungeon. Lucas, now accompanied by Dena, felt a newfound sense of purpose and determination. Together, they faced numerous trials and tribulations, delving deeper into the mysteries of the dungeon.

Their shared experiences drew them closer, and what had started as a chance encounter soon blossomed into a deep and genuine connection. They laughed together, shared secrets, and supported each other in moments of doubt.

Lucas found himself falling for Dena, captivated not only by her courage and kindness but also by the spark of adventure that seemed to define her spirit. And as for Dena, she couldn't help but be drawn to Lucas's unwavering determination and the warmth of his heart.

One evening, as they sat by a crackling campfire in the heart of the dungeon, their hands brushed against each other. The touch sent a shiver down Lucas's spine, and he couldn't help but steal a glance at Dena. Her eyes met his, and in that shared moment, they both felt the undeniable pull of something more.

"Dena," Lucas began, his voice barely above a whisper, "there's something I've been wanting to say."

Dena turned to him, her eyes filled with curiosity. "What is it, Lucas?"

He took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "I... I care about you, Dena. More than I ever thought possible. Being with you has brought light into my life during these dark times."

Dena's cheeks flushed with a soft blush, and she smiled, her gaze locked onto his. "Lucas, I feel the same way. You've been a beacon of hope for me as well."

In that moment, their fingers intertwined, and they leaned closer to each other, their lips meeting in a gentle and tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with the promise of a future filled with adventure, love, and the unwavering support of two kindred spirits.

As they pulled away, their hearts soared, and they knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together. Lucas and Dena had found not only the truth they sought but also a love that would endure, even in the darkest of dungeons.

However, Lucas, in response, gave his own face a quick slap and snapped back to reality as his attention was once again captivated by a beautiful girl passing by. His daydream turned into reality when the girl he had been admiring unexpectedly locked eyes with him.

The accusations hurled at Lucas were like a relentless storm, pounding at his very soul. He stood amidst the crowd, their hostile eyes fixed upon him, as if he were a criminal. The weight of their collective blame pressed down on him, threatening to consume him whole.

Desperation gnawed at Lucas's heart. He couldn't bear the thought of being blamed for his grandfather's death, especially when he had loved and respected Sir Dwayne so deeply. He knew he needed to defend his innocence, to make the crowd understand that he was not the cause of his grandfather's passing.

In his anguish, Lucas's hand shot up to his face, delivering a stinging slap that reverberated through the hushed air. It was as if this physical pain was necessary to jolt him back to reality, to steel his resolve in the face of adversity.

A voice, one that Lucas did not recognize, suddenly pierced through the oppressive atmosphere. It was a young woman, her demeanor resolute as she stepped forward. Dena, as she would later introduce herself, was a stranger to Lucas, but her unwavering presence had the power to silence the accusatory murmurs.

"Why are you shouting at him?" Dena's voice rang out with authority, as if challenging the crowd to confront their unjust blame.

The crowd, momentarily taken aback by this unexpected interjection, fell into an uneasy silence. Dena's gaze moved from face to face, her expression unwavering.

"Lucas," she continued, her tone calm and resolute, "the grandson of the late Sir Dwayne, whom I arrived too late to save."

Lucas felt a surge of gratitude wash over him. He couldn't comprehend why this stranger had come to his aid, but he clung to the lifeline she offered.

As Dena turned back to the crowd, her voice carried a note of stern authority. "This young man is not to blame for what has transpired. The true culprit here is the malevolent force lurking within the dungeon."

Her words, like a soothing balm, began to diffuse the tension that had gripped the crowd. Some among them nodded in reluctant agreement, realizing the weight of the evidence she presented.

Lucas, his head still reeling from the overwhelming emotions, accepted Dena's extended hand. It was a gesture of compassion and understanding, and he couldn't help but be touched by her kindness.

"Dena," he murmured, his voice heavy with gratitude, "thank you for standing up for me."

After the tumultuous encounter with the crowd, Lucas and Dena found themselves in a quieter corner of the city, far removed from the harsh judgments and accusations. The weight of the accusations still lingered in Lucas's mind, but Dena's presence provided a much-needed solace.

As they walked along the cobbled streets, Dena began to speak, her voice gentle and soothing, like a calming breeze amidst the storm of uncertainty.

"Lucas, your grandfather held a position of great honor and responsibility within our city," Dena explained. "He was known as Sir Dwayne, a respected veteran who had dedicated his life to protecting our people from the malevolent forces that lurk within the dungeon."

Lucas listened intently, his eyes fixed on Dena's as she continued.

"Sir Dwayne was not just a knight; he was the Iron Knight of our city, a title earned through years of unwavering dedication and countless battles against the creatures of the dungeon. His leadership and wisdom guided our city through times of peril, ensuring our safety and security."

Lucas's chest swelled with pride as he heard of his grandfather's noble legacy. He had always looked up to Sir Dwayne with admiration, and hearing about the extent of his grandfather's contributions only deepened his reverence.

Dena's eyes reflected a shared respect for Sir Dwayne as she continued, "But the dungeon is a place of unfathomable danger, Lucas. It conceals malevolent forces that even the bravest knights may not fully comprehend. Your grandfather, Sir Dwayne, understood this better than most."

Lucas nodded, his expression grave, his heart heavy with the memory of his grandfather's warnings about the dungeon's perils.

"It was within the dungeon that I encountered the malevolent force responsible for your grandfather's demise," Dena revealed. "An undead entity, immune to our weapons and capable of unleashing the horrors of decay. It was a formidable foe, and it ultimately claimed your grandfather's life."

A pang of grief and guilt gripped Lucas's heart as he absorbed the painful truth. He wished he could have been there to help, to protect Sir Dwayne in his final moments.

Dena placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, her eyes filled with empathy. "Lucas, your grandfather's death was not your fault. The malevolent force that lurked within the dungeon is ancient and insidious, a threat that even the most skilled Dungeon Capturers struggle to face. Your grandfather knew these risks all too well."

Tears welled up in Lucas's eyes, and he blinked them away, his gratitude for Dena's understanding overwhelming him. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "Thank you for helping me, and for defending my grandfather's honor."

Dena smiled warmly, her kindness a beacon of light in Lucas's darkest hour. "We will uncover the truth behind your grandfather's death, Lucas, and ensure that his legacy remains untarnished. Together, we will face the malevolent forces of the dungeon and bring justice to his memory."

With newfound resolve burning within him, Lucas nodded in agreement with Dena's words. He understood that the path ahead would be fraught with challenges and dangers, but he was determined to uncover the truth behind his grandfather's death and honor his legacy.

As they continued to walk through the city streets, Lucas's thoughts began to crystallize. He knew that he couldn't remain on the sidelines any longer. It was time for him to step into the role he had long been reluctant to embrace – that of a Dungeon Capturer.

"Dena," Lucas began, his voice steady, "I've made up my mind. I want to become a real Dungeon Capturer."

Dena looked at him with a mixture of encouragement and approval. "Lucas, that's a courageous decision. But remember, becoming a Dungeon Capturer is no small feat. It's a path filled with danger and uncertainty."

Lucas nodded, his determination unwavering. "I know, but it's a path I must take. I want to uncover the truth about what happened to my grandfather, and I want to protect this city from the malevolent forces within the dungeon."

Dena smiled warmly at his conviction. "Then, Lucas, let's begin your training as a Dungeon Capturer. I'll teach you everything you need to know, from combat skills to understanding the creatures that inhabit the dungeon. We'll start by preparing you for the challenges that lie ahead."

Lucas felt a surge of gratitude towards Dena. Her guidance and support had been a lifeline during his darkest moments, and now, she was offering him the chance to follow in his grandfather's footsteps and make a difference.

As they walked together, Lucas couldn't help but reflect on how much his life had changed in such a short time. He had gone from being a young man unsure of his path to someone determined to honor his grandfather's legacy and protect his city.

Lucas listened attentively to Dena's explanation, realizing that there was much more to becoming a Dungeon Capturer than he had initially thought. He shook his head, admitting, "I don't know much about how to become a Dungeon Capturer. My grandfather never spoke much about it."

Dena nodded in understanding. "No worries, Lucas. I'll walk you through the process. To become a Dungeon Capturer, you have two options for the initial test – academic or combat. The academic test assesses your knowledge of dungeon creatures, history, and strategies, while the combat test evaluates your physical prowess and combat skills."

Lucas considered his options. He had learned a great deal from his grandfather about monsters and their weaknesses, but he was also aware of the importance of combat skills when facing the dangers of the dungeon. "Which test do you think I should take?"

Dena smiled, appreciating his willingness to learn. "That depends on your strengths and preferences. Given your background and your grandfather's teachings, you might excel in the academic test. However, don't underestimate the combat test either. It's essential for any Dungeon Capturer to be physically capable."

Lucas nodded, taking in her advice. "What else should I know?"

Dena continued, "In addition to choosing your test, you'll need to pay a registration fee of 20 gold laminas. It covers the cost of processing your application and providing you with the necessary equipment. Once you've registered, you'll be assigned to one of the 15 famous Dungeon Capturer groups that conduct the combat test. They'll lead you through a series of trials to evaluate your combat skills."

Lucas mentally calculated his finances and realized that he had enough savings to cover the registration fee. "I can manage that part. What about the combat test? How does it work?"

Dena explained further, "The combat test varies depending on the group conducting it. They'll design challenges, battles, and scenarios to assess your combat abilities. It's a rigorous process, and you'll need to prove your mettle against various opponents, including monsters and other Dungeon Capturers. But remember, it's not just about winning battles; it's about demonstrating your adaptability, teamwork, and problem-solving skills."

Lucas absorbed the information, realizing that he had a long and challenging journey ahead. He was determined to make his grandfather proud and uncover the truth about his death.

With a newfound sense of purpose, Lucas turned to Dena and said, "Thank you for explaining everything, Dena. I'm ready to take the first step and register as a Dungeon Capturer. I'll choose the academic test for now and do my best to prepare."

Dena nodded in approval. "That's the spirit, Lucas. I'll assist you with your preparations, and together, we'll make sure you're well-prepared for the challenges that lie ahead."

As they continued their conversation, Lucas felt a growing sense of determination and anticipation. Becoming a Dungeon Capturer was no small feat, but he was ready to embark on this new path, honor his grandfather's legacy, and seek the truth hidden within the depths of the dungeon.

As Dena and Lucas prepared to part ways for the time being, Dena suddenly called out to him, causing him to stop and turn back toward her. She wore a thoughtful expression, clearly wanting to share something important.

"Lucas, wait!" Dena shouted, her voice carrying a sense of urgency. Lucas halted in his tracks and gave her his full attention.

"What is it, Dena?" Lucas inquired, curious about what she had to say.

Dena took a deep breath before speaking, her eyes focused on Lucas. "I almost forgot to mention something crucial. The type of special combat test you'll face depends on the class you choose when registering as a Dungeon Capturer. There are various classes, each with its own unique abilities and strengths."

Lucas was intrigued by this new piece of information. "Classes? What are they, and how do they affect the special combat test?"

"Thank you, Dena," Lucas said sincerely. "I appreciate you sharing this with me. I'll take some time to think about which class suits me best. It's a crucial decision, and I want to make sure I choose wisely."

Dena smiled and nodded. "Take your time, Lucas. When you're ready, we can proceed with your registration, and I'll be here to support you every step of the way."