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Is It Wrong To Skitter In A Dungeon? Omake: Underside of Orario - Rachel Lindt / Hellhound / Bitch
🕑 Added 2025-01-15 17:02:00 +0000 UTCOmake: Underside of Orario – Rachel / Hellhound / Bitch
“Come on, Bete! Hurry up!” a little girl with dog-ears atop her head planted her hands on her hips, watching impatiently as a young boy about twelve years old with dog-ears as well made his way up the hill towards her.
“Don’t run ahead, Luna!” the young boy called out, puffing a bit as he ran up the side of the hill towards his energetic sibling.
Both of them had grey hair and orange eyes, though the girl named Luna had darker hair compared to her brother’s lighter shade. They wore simple clothes woven from sturdy wool, and Luna had a yellow sash around her hips while Bete wore a red scarf properly around his neck.
“Finally,” Luna teased, grinning at her brother as he reached the top of the hill, before turning around to look at the landscape that lay before them.
The Great Plains were an isolated place, with rolling hills sprinkled with deep, dark forests standing as islands amongst a vast sea of wild grass and grains. The rustle of the wind gently teasing stalks of grass was the only sound, aside from the breathing coming from the werewolf children.
Looking over it, Bete could easily see why its other name was the Grass Sea amongst those who lived there. As stunning as the view was, however, he bonked his sister on the head, causing her to whine.
“What was that for?” Luna whined.
“You ran ahead!” he scolded. “You’re supposed to stay close, not run off!”
“Ugh, but we just got here, and I wanted to explore!” Luna said.
“You’ve seen one place, you’ve seen ‘em all,” Bete shrugged. “Now come on, we have to return before mom and dad notice we’re gone.”
Luna sighed but nodded, and the two began to move away from the hill the wind changed directions, and they stiffened in shock as they smelled the coppery tang of blood.
For a moment they stared off in that direction it had come before, before Luna ran off towards it. Cursing his impulsive sister under his breathe, Bete chased after her.
The two of them reached a spot not too far from the hill they’d been on where a large circular chunk of grass had simply vanished, leaving only bare dirt.
‘This is new,’ Bete thought to himself, eyes darting around the clearing. ‘The hunters would have noticed something like this when they were scouting for a location for the village.’
But that wasn’t important. What was currently of vital importance was the fact that the source of the blood they’d smelled was coming from a crumpled form lying in the exact center of the circle.
A woman with thick eyebrows and short cropped auburn hair was lying in the dirt, covered in blood with a few items scattered about. However, the most unusual thing was the large, scarred, and deformed wolf-like monster standing over her. It didn’t seem to be trying to eat her, though, and was instead hunched protectively over the body.
It growled when it spotted Luna and Bete, and both children froze, taken aback by the size and appearance of the creature.
After a moment, Luna hesitantly took a step forward, causing Bete to grab her shoulders.
“Luna, stay back!” Bete shouted. “It could be dangerous!”
“No, it’s hurt!” Luna replied, pointing to the beast and the woman. “Both of them are!”
She shook Bete’s hands off and reached into a pouch at her side, removing some jerky. Luna held it out towards the large animal, and the growling stopped as it cautiously sniffed the food in her hands.
Carefully, Luna laid the jerky down and then stepped back, letting it approach on its own. The beast did after a moment, wolfing down the offering. It no longer looked like it was going to rip their throats out, and Luna held out a hand for it to smell.
“We don’t want to hurt her,” Luna claimed. “We just want to help!”
The beast sniffed her, then huffed, and walked back to the woman, who had to be its owner. A moment later and Luna took a cautious step forward. When it did not growl, Luna grinned and pulled her brother over.
“Okay! Bete, you help put the girl on the back of the monster, and I’ll grab her stuff!” Luna declared.
“Luna, she’s a stranger,” Bete scolded, earning a glare from her.
“So what? Are you saying we should just leave her here?”
“Yes! We have no idea if she’s a bandit, or even what sort of animal that thing she has with her is!" Bete claimed. “Safer to leave her alone!”
“Well, if you won’t help, I will!” Luna huffed, before walking over to the unconscious woman and started to lift her. She was too tiny and weak to do so, unfortunately, and after struggling for a bit Bete sighed and walked over.
“Move it,” he grunted, picking the mysterious woman up. She was heavy, but Bete was a werewolf! He wouldn’t be beaten by a heavy human!
He managed to carry her in a piggyback style across his back, as the wolf-thing was too injured to carry her weight.
Luna grabbed the scattered objects – which included a creepy dog mask, a black leather jacket, a backpack full of weird objects like strange, transparent bottles made of something that was soft and pliable, and what looked like a large metal staff, but with the top cut off revealing that it is was made of a hollow tube.
Together, they hurried back to the village, wanting to get the woman checked over by somebody as quickly as possible.
A few minutes later, their home came into view. Loga Village was a large and spread out temporary settlement of tents, yurts, and makeshift fences and pens where herds of large ibex and auroch were kept while not grazing. They had only arrived a couple days ago and were still getting set up, but it already looked quite impressive.
The Loga werewolf tribe was a wandering clan, one of many groups of nomads who traversed the Grass Sea. They were not the strongest or the largest, but their legacy stretched back thousands of years, all the way to the Werewolf Emperor Yulis himself.
‘How far we’ve fallen since then,’ Bete couldn’t help but think to himself bitterly.
The Loga tribe had once been the largest and most powerful nomadic nation of Beastfolk in the world, traveling as far as the legendary Far East. But now, they were greatly diminished and had no permanent home. Instead they wandered about, following the seasonal grazing trails for their herds and prey they hunted. They also had but a single Level 1, the village elder.
Not that the rest of the hunters were pushovers, but compared to a few larger tribes who actually had the patronage of the gods, the Loga were weaklings, far removed from their glory days.
The siblings’ arrival with their ‘guest’ did not go unnoticed, and several hunters armed with atlatls appeared, aiming their weapons at the monstrous hound, which growled upon noticing them, but Luna quickly ran up to diffuse the situation.
“Stop! Stop!” she called out, waving her hands. “It’s friendly!”
The hunters exchanged glances, but after a moment lowered their weapons, and when they did the beast stopped making noise.
“We need help!” Bete shouted. “She’s hurt!”
It was then that they noticed the injured human on his back, and finally realized what was happening.
Bringing her to a yurt, several of the tribe’s women gathered around her to clean and dress her wounds, and kicked the menfolk out.
Luna fidgeted nervously as she stared at the entrance. “Will she be okay?”
“She’ll be fine. Reene’s mom is with her, and she’s the best healer in the village,” Bete assured her, patting Luna’s head.
“YOU TWO ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE!” a loud voice roared out, and the siblings trembled a bit as their mother stormed over, bonking them both on the head.
“What were you thinking, leaving the village without telling anyone?!” she demanded. The wolf-thing growled at her, angered at the attack on its saviors, but it soon whimpered and recoiled when the brown-haired werewolf turned her glare onto it.
“Your father will hear of this!” she warned, before stomping off.
“Well… that could have gone better,” Bete muttered. Luna nodded morosely.
All they could do now was wait.
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The stranger they’d brought back did not wake up the rest of the day. Even as the sun began to set, she remained unconscious. Her wounds were bad, but they’d been patched up as best the tribe’s healers could.
Now, however, as the day turned to night, Bete entered the large central yurt at the center of the village, head and ears down. He’d been summoned by the chief to explain why he’d brought a monster and a stranger to them, and the fact that the chieftain was his own father did not make Bete’s unease fade. If anything, it only grew, as Weed Loga was not the sort to coddle his children.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” the stern tone of the chieftain called out, and Bete held back the urge to whimper at the displeasure he heard. He was not a puppy anymore! He did not whimper!
The eyes of several other adults from the tribe watched him as he sat down facing the leader of the Loga Village.
“They were hurt, and needed help,” Bete replied. “Luna wanted to save both of them. Had we not, they might have died.”
“Then that would have been their fate,” Weed scoffed. “If they could not endure, they did not deserve to live!”
“I, for one, think young Bete did the right thing,” an elderly werewolf spoke up, stroking his beard. “That such a fierce beast is so loyal to her means she is likely in possession of a Falna, and is at least Level 2, in order to wield the Tamer ability that would make such a thing possible.”
That caused a stir, and they all turned their attention to the ancient warrior who had once hunted in the legendary Dungeon itself.
“What could hurt a Level 2 out here?” a hunter wondered in worry. “Did she run afoul of another tribe? Are we harboring a criminal?”
“No. I fear that the reason she was wounded is likely tied to some unsettling things I’ve heard,” the elder replied.
“And what, exactly, have you heard, elder?” Weed inquired.
“Nothing good. We will have to move on, soon,” the village elder said. “There are rumors of Loup Garou in the area.”
The adults muttered amongst themselves, frustrated at having to leave right after reaching their latest campsite, and Bete grimaced, but there was no other choice.
The Loup Garou was a ferocious, bipedal wolf monster that had escaped from the Dungeon ages past. They traveled in large packs, sometimes up to several dozen at a time, and could become as strong as a Level 2 adventurer. They would devastate everything around them, and in their wake, many communities would be erased.
The fact that werewolves looked similar to Loup Garou when undergoing their Beastification had also led to a lot of unpleasantness over the years between them and the other races. It didn’t help that some cruel and unscrupulous werewolves would take advantage of this and pretend to be Loup Garou and raid villages.
As such, when rumors of Loup Garou surfaced, the Loga tribe would have to move on, not wanting to be blamed by ignorant and superstitious villagers for deaths caused by the roaming monsters.
“No. We will not leave.”
Bete looked to his father with a pinched expression as he spoke, one mirrored by the village elder. The rest of the adults also turned to him with more subdued looks.
“Young one, the Loup Garou are not to be underestimated,” the elder warned. “To say nothing of what happens to us werewolves when others learn of their presence. It is unfortunate, but we must move on.”
“A drought has cut through the Grass Sea these past two years,” the chieftain replied, folding his arms. “Our herds are thirsty, and the creek here is the best one we’ve found after weeks of travel. If we leave, who knows when we will find a better place?”
“Then we move east, towards the Sea of Medira,” the elder suggested. “We will have to deal with a greater number of other tribes in the area, but…”
“No, we stay,” Bete’s father declared, putting his foot down. “I want nothing to do with those weaklings!”
The elder sighed, but could see he would not be able to convince the chieftain this night, and instead rose to his feet.
“In that case, I shall take my leave,” the elder claimed. “We have a guest to take care of, after all.”
He then left the tent, and after a moment Bete followed him.
“Why does father not want to travel to Medira?” Bete asked when they were far enough away to not be overheard.
“Old wounds that he refused to allow to heal,” the elder replied grumpily, before looking down at Bete. “Enough of that, though. Take me to this adventurer you found. I want to see her with my own eyes.”
Bete nodded, and lead him to the yurt where the healers had worked on her. As they approached, the front flap was opened, revealing a young werewolf girl Bete’s age with vibrant gold hair.
“Hello, Bete,” Reene said, smiling at me. “Did you come to visit the woman? Luna is already here.”
“The elder wanted to see her,” Bete replied, and the oldest werewolf in the village nodded.
“Well, she’s not awake, yet, but come on in,” Reene offered, stepping aside so they could enter.
The interior of the tent smelled of herbs and disinfectant brewed from said herbs. The medicinal salves the tribe produced were inferior to the famous Healing Potions of Orario and the wealthier nations, but they were effective enough, and had saved the woman’s life without a doubt.
The mutant wolf-beast lay off to the side, Luna keeping it company. Reene’s mother was tending to the human, wiping her forehead with a wet cloth and dripping broth into her mouth to feed her.
“How is she?” the elder asked.
“She is strong. She will live,” the healer replied as her daughter joined her. “She has many old wounds, some of which I cannot identify the origin of, but she can drink, and the wounds have not festered.”
“That is good,” the elder hummed. “When will she be awake?”
“She will wake when she is ready, and not a moment earlier.”
He shrugged, before turning to the monstrous hound. It was not a species he recognized, though that didn’t mean much. The world was vast with many different and odd creatures, and not all had monster blood in them.
It was her supplies that intrigued him. The not-glass was flimsy but held water well enough, and the broken staff made him believe she might be a mage, though her muscles made him think she was a Spell Blade or Magic Knight like Altena or the Empire fielded.
The clothing was equally foreign. Finely made, but of a style he’d never seen, not even in Orario, which had the greatest gathering of cultures and fashions in the world.
A soft groan distracted the elder, and he turned to see the auburn-haired human was waking up.
“Ah, you’re awake,” he said, pleased.
“Bastard,” she suddenly growled out, and the elder blinked, somewhat offended, before the big ugly mutt perked up and rushed to her side, slobbering all the way.
“That’s a dumb name,” Luna said. “He looks more like a Fergus. Or maybe a Rude.”
“Bastard is Bastard,” the woman muttered. She started to sit up, but Reene stopped her.
“Don’t! You’re still hurt and need to heal!”
“Do you have a name?” the elder inquired as the woman looked like she’d try to deny it.
“Bitch,” she replied. This time, the old werewolf wasn’t insulted, having recognized the woman’s naming sense. Or lack of it. He also recalled how odd the naming sense of the gods could be when bestowing Aliases.
“Where’s my mask?” she asked, looking around.
“Here!” Luna said, fetching it. She took it but did not wear it, merely staring at it for a bit before looking around the tent and at the werewolves, her gaze lingering on their ears.
“I’m not on Earth Gimel, am I?”
“I do not know that country,” the elder said apologetically.
“Fuck,” she sighed, and Luna gasped, scandalized.
“Bad word!” she shouted. Bitch just looked at her and snorted, before patting her mutant dog-thing.
“Rachel Lindt,” she eventually uttered.
“Was Bitch your alias as an adventurer?” Bete asked.
“Cape name,” she nodded.
“In that case, welcome to the Loga Tribe,” the elder said politely. “Which Familia are you from?”
“Undersiders,” Rachel replied.
“Err, I think he meant what god you served,” Reene spoke up.
Rachel frowned. “No god.”
“Oh, so you left,” the elder nodded in understanding.
“You can just stop bothering her, elder,” Reene’s mother huffed. “Here, take this.”
She handed Rachel a bowl of soup, and the human immediately took it and drank it down in a single go.
“Tasty,” Rachel said. “Thanks.”
“My daughter is very talented,” the healer said with a proud smile, and Reene blushed.
“So, you’re an adventurer, right?” Luna asked, scooting closer to Rachel. “Have you been to Orario before? Is it pretty? Is there really a tower in the middle that is taller than any tree?”
“Hey, calm don’t and stop bothering her, Luna!” Bete protested.
“Don’t be a wet blanket, Bete!” Luna huffed. She then gained a sly look. “Besides, I know you wanna ask her all about it, too!”
Bete huffed and looked away, but the way his ears twitched gave away his true feeling.
“I’m gonna go tell dad she’s awake!” he declared instead of letting his sister win, and left the yurt in a hurry, Renee and Luna’s giggling echoing in his ears.
As soon as he walked out of the yurt, the young werewolf let out a tired sigh. So, they had a human staying with them for now. And an adventurer at that.
‘What will father do?’ Bete couldn’t help but wonder.
However, he never managed to go and find out, as a moment later, a howl split the air, causing him to freeze up.
Then a second howl rang out. Then a third. And then the hills echoed with the sounds of bestial roars.
‘No! Not tonight!’ Bete thought as he fearfully looked up at the night sky. It had been a new moon yesterday, and the hunters wouldn’t be able to draw upon their Beastification ability without enough moonlight!
‘Did they plan this?’ Bete couldn’t help but wonder as in the distance, dozens of Loup Garou encircled the village.
The hunters began to scrabble and several families started to rush around, gathering what they could in a desperate attempt to flee. But Bete knew they wouldn’t make it. The howls had come from all around them.
The elder burst out, clutching his cane like a spear, the look on his face one of apprehension.
“Young Bete, get back inside,” he ordered. “You must get everyone ready to move!”
“It’s too late, we’re surrounded!” Bete called back.
“The adventurer – Rachel – should be able to open a path for you all!” the elder retorted. “I will also do what I can to help!”
The hunters started flinging spears and firing arrows into the Loup Garou, felling a few, but they were fast and numerous and soon crashed into the village’s defenders. Yet for some reason the monsters weren’t trying to attack them back. If anything, they ignored the werewolves and just kept running.
“What’s going on?” Bete asked in confusion.
“They’re afraid!” the elder realized. “They’re running away!”
“What could make a bunch of monsters flee like deer?” Bete demanded incredulously.
A horrifying roar rang out a moment later, as if Bete had tempted Fate, and Fate – the sadistic bitch – had responded.
Deep and guttural, the roaring continued, and the ground began to shake as something crested the hill Bete and Luna had been standing on earlier in the day.
It was hard to tell in the dark, but even so, Bete was able to see green scales covering the massive monster that towered over even the tallest of the tents, and claws and fangs that glinted like ivory in the torchlight.
“That… impossible!” the elder gasped. “A dragon?! But they’re supposed to be confined to Dragon Valley!”
Bete tensed up, ready to fight to the death to protect his sister and girlfriend. However, the young werewolf suddenly felt a burst of strength course through his veins. It was like the full moon beaming down on him!
Beside him the elder also straightened up, feeling the same power fill him. He looked confused, but wasn’t going to question it, not when he could use the boon to defend the tribe. All around the village, the strange invigorating effect was spilling forth, more hunters becoming super-charged.
Movement jerked Bete out of his shocked state, and he spun around to find Rachel stepping out, along with Bastard the wolf-thing. Except the beast at her side had changed. It had gotten bigger with more spikes growing from it and could definitely give the Loup Garou a run for their money in the danger department.
Bete noticed that Rachel held the odd metal tube-staff in her hands, and even though she could barely walk, pointed towards the monster.
“Protect. Kill,” the human ordered, and the massive wolf monster charged at the dragon without a moment of hesitation.
‘Is she responsible for the boost in power?’ Bete couldn’t help but wonder. He could feel waves of something radiating off of her, and it was hot yet cool, and the young werewolf felt like he could run a marathon and still be ready for more!
While this was happening, the adventurer’s Tamed companion leapt at the dragon, biting into its leg. It didn’t do too much damage, and it immediately shook Bastard away, before letting out a roar of anger. It tried to attack the beast, but the wolf-thing proved to be smart, leaping away and always keeping out of reach of its fangs and claws.
And Bastard the wolf kept growing, bigger and bigger, until it was the same size as the dragon attacking the tribe. He got slower the larger he became, but his strength rose as well, and Bastard was able to tackle the dragon and pin it down, keeping the monster from rampaging through the village.
Rachel wasn’t hesitating either, as she occasionally let out ear-splitting whistles and barks that the mutant wolf understood. It obeyed her instructions and continued to fight the dragon, its claws and fangs and spikes ripping into scaled flesh.
The hunters weren’t ones to stay idle, either, and began coordinating with each other to try and bring it down. Spears were hurled at it while they leapt at the dragon, pummeling it with punches and kicks. Even the elder strode forward to confront the monster!
“Hey, wait, old man!” Bete shouted. “You’re too old! You can’t possibly fight with the rest of the hunters!”
“I feel stronger than I ever did in my prime, brat,” the elder scoffed. “Somehow, my Falna is resonating with whatever the adventurer did. I’m as powerful as a Level 2, now!”
He threw his cloak off. “Besides, it’s the older generation’s duty to protect and guide the young!”
With that, he darted forward, his cane lashing out against the dragon’s head, knocking its jaws away before it could bite into a hunter. It swiveled around, trying to devour the elder, but the chieftain came down like a meteor, slamming into the top of the dragon’s head and driving it into the ground.
Unfortunately, Weed did not manage to escape quickly enough as the dragon snapped its head up and its maw closed around him. Bete watched in horror as his father collapsed, his right leg bit clean off below the knee.
Several hunters rushed in, and one managed to grab the chief and drag him off. The elder stepped forward, smacking the dragon in the face. The elder’s cane got lodged in the dragon’s left eye in the process, causing it immense pain, and it struck the old werewolf with its tail, sending him flying through the air and into a nearby tent.
“You dare attack my people?! My tribe?! MY FAMILY?!” Bete’s father suddenly roared as he came charging in despite his missing limb, and slammed his fist into the broken shaft of wood that was sticking out, jamming the cane even deeper into the dragon’s eye.
It recoiled in pain, and in that moment of weakness Bastard’s massive jaws clamped around the dragon’s exposed throat, its fangs piercing through and drawing a shower of hot blood that sprayed everyone nearby.
The dragon was not yet beaten, however, and the monstrous wolf was slammed into the ground and knocked aside, massive gouges in the side of its body thanks to the dragon’s claws.
Then, to everyone’s horror, its remaining eye landed on Rachel, and it seemed to recognize just how much of a threat she was. Yet even as the dragon loomed over her, the human showed no fear.
“Die,” Rachel growled, pointing her strange staff into its gaping maw as it roared at her.
A loud explosion like thunder rang out, and the dragon recoiled, blood flying from its mouth. The roar of thunder issued forth again, and this time Bete was able to see a huge amount of gore go flying as a hole was punched into the dragon’s throat, piercing through the damage already there thanks to her wolf peeling back the scales.
She did something strange to her staff, popping it open, and then it was closed after she put something into it. The adventurer fired again, and again, blowing two more holes into the dragon, one of which obliterated its remaining eye.
Finally, Bastard the wolf leapt onto the dragon’s back, pinning it down before Rachel fired twice more, the staff aimed directly at its head. Unable to withstand whatever sorcery she was using, chunks of the dragon’s skull and brain went flying, and it let out one final roar before going still.
For a moment, nobody could understand what had happened. But then one of the hunters let out a victory howl, one that was quickly echoed by the rest of the village, Bete, the elder, and even Rachel and Bastard joining in.
There had been casualties amongst the tribe. Too many had fallen, even with the power boost. Yet they had survived, and would continue to live on.
That was the start of the legend of the Lupa Familia. Rachel Lindt would go down in history as the famed Hellhound, Captain of the Familia, while Bete, Reene, and Luna would be remembered as the Cerberus Trio, heroic figures in their own right.
Though for some reason the captain never liked her alias, always muttering “Bitch,” under her breath whenever somebody addressed her as Hellhound.
But that is a story for another day…
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Author's Note: Hey, everyone! New Year, and a new, special chapter. This is a "What If?" Omake for the story. A bit of non-canon fun. They will pop up every so often, and tell the tales of other Worm characters appearing in the world of DanMachi.
Comments
Ian Rodgers
Yes, this is non-canon.
MN01
Some clarification is needed. Is this a non-canon to the main story omake? Hopefully so as personally I hope we don't see more parahumans other than Taylor in the main story.
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