"That reminds me... I think the pup tried to help but failed to draw the wolf's aggro. Yet the alpha recognized him immediately when it saw him up close, and you could tell by the sheer hatred in that growl. When I first found him, some wolves with white and light gray fur were trying to kill him."

"Since signing the contract, the pup can conceal himself from both divine beasts and creatures serving other gods. They cannot actively seek or magically detect him, but if he is nearby, depending on the creature's level, they might perceive your companion's true nature."

Every time I hear that forbidden term, I instinctively glance at the sky half-expecting a bolt of lightning or some other divine punishment.

"I don't really consider him a pet—I haven't even given him a name. We have a contractual relationship, so it's more like a partnership between equals, isn't it?"

Ronan simply shrugs in response.

"And speaking of which, how do you know all this? Did he tell you that—your invisible friend?"

"Of course, my lady. This is how divine beasts who have died and seek reincarnation typically operate. They require contracts as soon as possible to ensure their survival."

"Are there more deceased divine beasts like the pup, trying to reincarnate into seeds and level up to regain their former power?"

"Those belonging to other gods who perished in the last great war reincarnated centuries ago. The seed of darkness is unique in being continually hunted across its incarnations."

I look down at the pup sitting by my feet and crouch to stroke his head.

"Oh, you poor thing," I murmur to him. "With everyone trying to kill you—or actually succeeding repeatedly—no wonder you manipulated that dungeon's difficulty to make me sign the contract."

He gazes up at me with those soulful, sorrowful eyes and wags his tail gently. I'm absolutely convinced he understands every word.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you."

I hear Ronan clear his throat pointedly, and feel heat rising to my cheeks. Ronan actually clearing his throat? But he's right. This creature in its fully evolved adult form could obliterate an entire city without breaking a sweat. And here I am cooing at it like it's an actual puppy that needs my protection.

Ugh.

I straighten up quickly.

The pup makes that peculiar jaw-twitching noise again that sounds suspiciously like laughter.

"What?" I snap at Ronan, realizing too late how defensive and unnecessarily aggressive I sound.

"Nothing at all, my lady. I am quite certain that when you have fully realized your potential, you will surpass even the divine beast in power."

This does calm me somewhat, primarily because he's probably correct.

"Uh... thanks. And sorry for snapping at you like that."

"There is absolutely no need for apologies, my lady."

Right, because he's certainly not apologizing for that pointed throat-clearing...

Enough of this foolishness. Time to focus on something more productive. I notice a bracelet lying beside the alpha's corpse and crouch to examine it.

Bracelet of the Snow Alpha. +50% cold resistance.

Well then.

It could have been something more exciting—perhaps allowing me to summon wolves or provide buffs to companions. Though that would have been ridiculously overpowered. Even a simple +1 to defense would have been nice. I imagine low-level merchants, who are non-combatants, would pay a small fortune for this, since most damage from unleveled or unskilled individuals barely scratches 1 HP. In this world, magical items are exorbitantly expensive and rare, since effectively only military personnel or nobility possess the capability to farm dungeons for them.

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My so-called "legendary sword," as the name suggests, represents an exceptionally rare and valuable artifact. No wonder they're trying to marry me off to the prince or assigning a bodyguard. Other kingdoms would undoubtedly attempt assassinations if they learned of my capabilities.

Regarding this particular bracelet, it's one of the alpha boss's potential drops with an estimated drop rate below 10%.

No treasure chest, naturally, because this was merely a mini-boss. The true dungeon boss awaits on the third level.

"Can you actually identify items without using an appraisal spell?" Ronan inquires, observing me closely.

"Yes, but it's a secret ability."

"I understand, another unique privilege of being his chosen one. Like not requiring a stone slab to view your stats."

My eyes widen in surprise.

"You noticed that too?"

"From my very first days in your service, my lady."

"Right... well, this bracelet provides 50% cold resistance. Though I doubt it prevents frostbite entirely. I'll probably sell it, unless you want it of course."

"Perhaps you should wear it for the remainder of this mission? Afterwards, if you have no objection, I would gladly take it."

"Deal."

I slip it on and immediately feel noticeably warmer. I'll still need my coat, but the biting pain in my face and ears has subsided. I glance at the alpha's massive corpse.

"Aren't you going to raise it?"

"Most certainly. Moreover, it should not require much mana, considerably less than that first giant bear we defeated in the pit."

I nod and watch as he performs the ritual. As always, it's a profoundly solemn process. Though this time, with the corpse fully intact, there's no eerie black puddle serving as a portal to the underworld. The alpha rises as a zombie, its grievous neck, back, and abdominal wounds healed by arcane means. Ronan proceeds to reanimate several more wolves, consumes a mana potion, and repeats the process. His undead army now consists of 12 zombie wolves, the alpha, and 21 skeletal wolves. Given that the skeletons were raised after potion consumption at a rate of 1 mana per three skeletons, I'm certain he's conserved substantial mana reserves.

The bats diligently collect fangs from wolves he chose not to raise, after which Ronan turns his attention to me.

"Those pelts must be exceptionally valuable, entirely pure white. Shall we begin the skinning process?"

I can't suppress a grimace of disgust.

"Don't trouble yourself, my lady. Tom, Joe and Bob can handle the skinning while we proceed to clear the dungeon towards the spawning grounds."

Marvelous. I must admit that goblin and skeleton minions prove extraordinarily practical in a world where loot doesn't conveniently materialize as neatly folded pelts on the ground where wolves, rabbits, bears, or whatever creature once stood.

"Brilliant idea, thank you. Though... what if those third-years appear and attack our skeletons when they see them harvesting materials?"

"My bat continues monitoring the first level. We will receive ample warning."

"Then it's decided." I smile, thoroughly pleased to delegate the messy work.

Meanwhile, poor Bob must be beside himself with worry, unable to accompany Mary on her research expedition. I hope he receives favorable news upon her return.

"Oh, I nearly forgot! You helped me defeat the boss. Let me check your stats," I say, crouching to address the pup.

Truthfully, I enjoy squatting down to his level. Either that or having him shrink so I can cradle him in my hands at eye level. He's simply so endearing that I can't resist seeing him up close and stroking his head.

"Let's see..." I murmur while examining his character status. "No, what a disappointment! You've only progressed from 2% of 403 XP to 14%."

That equates to roughly 48 XP from the alpha boss. This calculation assumes, naturally, that the pup requires comparable experience points per level as we do.

What a disappointment, if I believe it's just as profitable as one of the specters...

The seed barks empathetically and showers my face with affectionate licks.

"My lady, do you not believe you are spoiling him excessively?"

I straighten up abruptly.

"Oh! Do you really think so?"

"Indubitably."

He might have a point. There haven't been significant consequences for indulging him during our dungeon excursions thus far...

"Alright, I'll enforce stricter discipline next time."

The wolf pup directs a positively withering glare at Ronan, who remains utterly unfazed. Now that the blizzard has cleared up, it's a perfect time to continue our mission. Between the frozen forest trees ahead, distinct smoke columns mark the locations of troll settlements. We needn't assault every village, only those guarding the precious spawning grounds.

As we prepare to advance, a realization strikes me:

"Ronan, regarding your exhaust spell. Wasn't the duration supposed to be five minutes? Or did the alpha's howl nullify it?"

"No, it was not nullified. The wolves I enchanted simply did not survive three minutes."

"You didn't cast it on all of them?"

"My spell has both an activation area and a smaller effect area, about one meter in radius, within it. I only targeted those charging directly at our position."

"I wasn't aware of that limitation. Until now it seemed to affect all enemies simultaneously..."

Of course—the aquatic dungeon contained relatively few zombies, and the orcs had been clustered together.

I see how Ronan nods in confirmation, and we lapse into comfortable silence, proceeding cautiously with bat scouts patrolling the treetops ahead.

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