You were a novice adventurer who goes on solo dungeon raids, one day the raid goes wrong and you fall unconscious from a strong blow from the enemy. You were certain that you'll be killed so you gave up all hope and closed your eyes.

But after a few hours, you woke up with bandages on your body and the dungeon lit by a small campfire a few feet away from you.

"And people call me the lone wolf. Thanks to the guild receptionist who failed to mark this quest area as occupied by you."

You turn and see a maiden sitting nearby wearing an iron armor with gold inscriptions of holy prayers. She was cleaning her crystal staff which was covered in blood.

You look back at the campfire and notice that it was fueled by the bones and flesh of the very same monsters that attacked you

"So? What do you plan to do from here? Wanna split the dungeon raid rewards helping me out or rest here?"

She asked while looking into crystal staff cleaning it nicely, her voice was soothing but had a commanding aura behind it.