Danmachi: Is It Wrong to Be the Main Character in Orario?

On the tenth floor of the Dungeon, Bell stood alone, blade in hand, facing a group of Orcs.

Right now, what Bell needed most was to sharpen his "technique"—to elevate it to match his current level of strength, or even surpass it.

At present, the only technique he had fully grasped was "Tsubame Gaeshi."

But that move required deep understanding and insight into swordsmanship.

Bell firmly believed that only through such understanding could one create miracles.

Only those who truly mastered both strength and technique could grasp even the slightest chance to turn the tide in dire situations. That's why "Tsubame Gaeshi" had become his go-to close-range finishing move.

The technique itself was already beyond the realm of ordinary humans—at least no normal person could pull off something like a "multi-dimensional distortion phenomenon."

It was a move that, purely through personal skill, pierced through the boundaries of space and time.

Three fatal strikes delivered simultaneously in the same space and time, forming a pincer attack that could end the fight in an instant.

To pull off such a move would take a nameless swordsman a lifetime of dedication. Even attempting to replicate it using another's lifetime of experience would be incredibly difficult.

The first requirement was extensive combat experience.

And there was no shortcut—only hands-on battles could build that foundation.

"Hah!"

A whooshing sound came from the side—an Orc's spiked club hurtling toward him.

But this time, Bell didn't activate his Lightning Transformation to nullify the attack. Instead, he loosened his grip on the blade, angled it from below, and used his shorter frame to press the club upward, parrying the blow with minimal force.

It was a technique he'd once heard about: force nullification.

A method used in combat to dissipate an opponent's attack power, reducing the damage taken—or even turning that force into destructive strength of one's own.

Bell didn't fully understand how to use it yet—who would have thought such a day would come?

Still, even without mastering it, he understood the principle of redirecting force, and that's what he was currently trying to learn.

'Good. My body's starting to adapt to this.'

Force nullification wasn't just a technique—it was a whole fighting style.

It wasn't just about wrist control; it demanded power from the entire body.

In Bell's mind, combat was ultimately a contest of control—over power, timing, and precision.

'I didn't expect this technique to work with weapons too.'

'No, to be precise… I'm surprised I'm actually managing to apply it through my sword.'

His technical progress was visible.

Maybe it was because his old techniques had been clumsy that his current rate of improvement felt so dramatic. It had only been a few days since he started experimenting with this method, and now he was already incorporating it into his weapon use.

That growing mastery filled him with a quiet thrill.

The other Orcs swung their clubs down at him.

Bell matched the movement, swinging down along their path. The force behind those blows was still immense—but now it felt completely different. He deflected them with ease.

Boom!

The impact shook the ground, sending shards of stone into the air.

Bell scanned the battlefield. For an instant, time itself seemed to "pause." His long blade cut through the air.

The moment he struck, the flying stones resumed their motion, scattering at high speed.

Bell paused only briefly, then moved again, slicing through every last stone that came his way.

'I still haven't reached that realm.'

Bell knew it. He hadn't yet stepped into the domain of that nameless swordsman—but thanks to the legacy of that swordsman's life, his blade had managed to brush the edge of it.

Even though he felt he was infinitely close, even though it seemed like he was already within that realm, in truth, he had only just reached its threshold.

'Being able to even glimpse it in such a short time… that alone is already a huge step forward.'

But this was the current limit of what he could achieve with "Tsubame Gaeshi."

To go further would require more time—and more growth in his technique. Without that, who knew how long it would take to truly step into that realm?

With a quiet sigh, Bell's perception once again entered the suspended stillness. The half-Orcs wielding spiked clubs froze in place.

He scanned their positions with a glance. Then, his blade traced a graceful arc—like a full moon—and time resumed.

"Shhhk!"

Four half-Orc heads dropped to the ground. Blood sprayed violently from their necks, painting the earth around them crimson—except for the spot where Bell stood, which remained untouched.

He exhaled slowly as he looked at the aftermath.

'Improving my technique—that's what really matters.'

'The force-nullification method still needs more practice. Where I am now… it's not nearly enough.'

As Bell reflected, the sound of four sets of footsteps echoed in his ears.

'Someone's coming.'

But he wasn't in a hurry to leave. The tenth floor was always shrouded in thick mist, and visibility was severely limited. Unless someone got very close, spotting him would be difficult.

That was one of the defining traits of the tenth floor—and one reason why many adventurers hated it.

The fog here heavily obstructed vision, and smaller Imps often hid within it. If you didn't get right up close, you'd never spot them.

And once those Imps noticed adventurers, they'd call in the Orcs lurking in the mist.

Being surrounded like that in the fog? That was as good as a death sentence.

Still, Bell didn't care what happened to other adventurers.

Everyone was responsible for their own survival. If someone died, it just meant they had failed to accurately judge their own strength.

Drawing his Hydra Dagger, Bell carved open the Orc's body and extracted the Magic Stone at its core. The corpse turned to ash instantly.

The spiked club dropped to the floor, along with some other loot—its eyes, ears, and similar parts.

Bell gathered it all into his four-dimensional storage and vanished into the mist.

...

Emerging near the entrance to the tenth floor, Bell spotted a familiar figure.

It was that short silhouette again—but today, instead of being disguised as a Chienthrope, she appeared as a young human.

'Liliruca Arde… still doing this kind of work, huh?'

Bell gave her a glance, then turned away and left the tenth floor without another word.

An adventurer must be responsible for their choices.

Good luck or bad, the path you walk is the one you chose.