"...Even if I'm not the one to complete this revival, my actions might inspire others to take up the cause?"
Finn Deimne repeated the words Loki had brought back to him. He sat quietly for a long time, saying nothing.
His mind drifted back to decades ago—to the day he'd first met Loki. Back then, his ideals had been pure, almost naïve. But over time, maybe those beliefs had begun to twist in ways he hadn't noticed.
His goal had never changed. But the way he pursued it... had.
"So that's it... I see now..."
Finn murmured softly. For decades, his obsession with revitalizing the Pallum race had kept him moving forward without rest. Yet now, for the first time, he realized how skewed his approach had become.
He had always believed that the result was all that mattered—that no matter the process, as long as he succeeded, the outcome would justify everything. Even if his methods tarnished his image, the result would shine brighter than any stain. He wanted to use that shining example to inspire his kin, to reignite the unshakable faith that once defined the legendary Fianna Knights.
But now he finally understood—that belief had been wrong all along.
The Pallum didn't expect him to succeed, not because they didn't care about results, but because they couldn't see themselves in his version of them. No matter how hard he worked, no matter how high he rose, he was alone. The rest of his kin would never rally behind someone whose ideals they couldn't connect with.
Finn finally understood the true difference between himself and Fianna.
It wasn't just a gap in strength or talent. It was in their purpose.
Fianna hadn't fought for the Pallum alone—she'd fought for the despairing, for all of humanity. That was why she became the pride of their race, the beacon that lifted them all up.
It wasn't the result that made her a Hero. It was the journey.
Now it all made sense. His way of doing things had been wrong from the very beginning. His so-called dream of revival had been nothing more than his own selfish interpretation—an obsession with results over meaning.
Finn exhaled, a small, relieved smile crossing his face. Maybe it was time to set things right.
"Quite the insight... I really do owe that kid a thank-you."
What mattered had never been the result. What the Pallum needed wasn't success—it was the process.
A process of rebuilding their confidence, courage, and hope.
Only once those things were rekindled within the Pallum could they ever truly rise again.
He had always known it, deep down: the Pallum could never rise because of him alone. What they needed was not a savior, but a symbol—someone to remind them of what Fianna once stood for. Her faith, her resilience, her ability to inspire courage and hope in others.
Not a cold, lifeless result.
"Right? Right? Didn't I say that kid's amazing?"
Loki puffed up proudly, smug satisfaction written all over her face.
"The way he sees things really is different. He's got experience in this kind of stuff—like he's been through it before."
Finn nodded. He agreed completely.
Still, he shifted the topic back to what Loki had mentioned earlier.
"Loki, that 'electronic device' you talked about—he made it himself?"
"Of course he did! He used his imagination to create a monster with that function. I was just in Tsuna's room earlier—I played with it for a while. The range of control over that bird thing is pretty far, and the view it captures is projected perfectly onto the device."
"Then his value might be even greater than you said. It's not just his ability—it's the way he thinks. The fact that he can turn his understanding into reality. With his help, exploring the Dungeon could become a lot easier."
Finn could already tell how versatile Tsuna's ability really was. Especially when it came to Dungeon expeditions—it could provide an incredible advantage.
"If he can develop his power further, and create a space to store supplies for long periods, it would revolutionize our deep-level expeditions."
"No need to worry about transporting supplies—or carrying Drop Items and Magic Stones back to the surface. That alone would ease the Familia's financial burden significantly."
Because of transport issues, every expedition into the Dungeon had to account for the balance between resources and supplies. If that problem were solved, exploration would depend solely on strength.
Excitement surged through Finn's chest, but he forced himself to stay composed.
"Indeed. That boy's ability could help the Familia in more ways than one. The device he made could also let us scout dangerous areas safely. It would be invaluable for exploring unknown floors."
Gareth stroked his beard thoughtfully, already imagining the countless applications such a device could have inside the Dungeon.
"But before we even think about taking him there, the kid needs proper training. The deeper floors would be far too dangerous for someone like him right now."
"Agreed."
Finn nodded immediately.
"I never intended to push him that far this early. He needs time—to learn, to grow. For now, what matters is that he studies everything about the Dungeon, while also refining and expanding his abilities."
"Once he's familiar with the basics, then we can start polishing his combat skills. At the very least, he needs to reach Level 2 and have solid survival tactics before we let him participate in Dungeon expeditions."
"Now that makes sense," Gareth said with a small nod. He'd never been the type to throw a rookie straight into danger.
Finn and Gareth exchanged approving looks before both turned to Riveria Ljos Alf.
They weren't exactly great teachers for beginners—so there was only one person suited for the task.
"We'll leave it to you, Riveria."
They spoke in perfect unison.
These guys... Riveria could feel a vein pulsing on her forehead. They had just dumped a massive responsibility squarely on her shoulders.
Still, looking at the two of them—one hopeful, one smug—she sighed.
"I understand. I'll make sure that boy's training is handled properly."