Dragged to Another World… and I Took the Goddess with me!

The rumbling didn't stop this time. It only grew worse, louder, heavier—until the entire guild began to tilt.

And that's when Finn realized it. They had wasted too much time. Shit had officially hit the fan.

The building rattled like it was in a blender. The floorboards groaned, windows cracked, and then—an impossible sensation. The guild felt like it was being lifted, as if some colossal thing beneath the swamp was pushing upward. Moistvile itself clung to the swamp like a rat clinging to driftwood.

"Oh my god!" Finn shrieked, clinging to Silvara like a terrified child.

The tilt worsened. Tables, chairs, bottles, and people slid across the floor in a screaming avalanche. Some toppled over each other, others clung desperately to support beams or even to each other. Adventurers jammed weapons into the floorboards to anchor themselves.

Majestria, naturally, screamed the loudest. She toppled backward with a dramatic thud before sliding across the floor like a discarded ragdoll.

Silvara fought to keep her footing, but Finn wrapped around her like a human barnacle made it harder. With one swift move, she yanked a knife from her sleeve and stabbed it deep into the wooden boards.

The sudden jolt nearly shook Finn loose. He slipped, screaming, and began to slide—until Silvara snagged him by his foot, holding him effortlessly with one hand.

Dangling upside down, Finn looked up at her eerily calm face. 'Of course she looks calm. I could be on fire and she'd look the same…'

He let out a shaky sigh of relief—only to glance sideways and see the rest of the room descending into absolute hell.

Chunkus, the massive glutton, had been clinging to the counter. But gravity had other plans. His grip slipped.

And then—like a four-hundred -pound bowling ball—he rolled.

"NOOOO!" people screamed as the human boulder barreled toward them. Adventurers tried to scramble out of the way, but not all were lucky. Chunkus plowed into them, the sickening crunch of bones echoing as he crushed bodies and sent a wave of people tumbling down with him.

"Holy crap…" Finn muttered in horror, eyes wide.

Meanwhile, Raze was thriving. He leapt from one knife to another, stabbing the ground in rhythm. "HA! HUP! HEH!" he grunted with each landing, even throwing in flips midair like this was some kind of circus act.

Silvara didn't even glance at the chaos. She simply looked down at Finn dangling from her grip. Her voice was flat, as though nothing insane was happening around them.

"Come on. I can't hold onto you forever."

Finn looked past her and noticed more knives stabbed into the floorboards ahead of her.

"Wait—am I supposed to climb with those? I'm not that strong!"

Silvara didn't answer. She just looked at him like he was a helpless toddler throwing a tantrum. Her face didn't change, but Finn felt the judgment radiating off her.

And then, with unnerving calm, she shifted. With one arm still holding him, she reached for a knife, tilted herself upside down, and hooked her foot around its hilt like some kind of acrobat.

"W-What the—" Finn's eyes bulged as she used both arms to yank him upward, inch by inch.

'Damn! She's strong as hell!'

With a twist, she slung him over her back like he was just extra luggage. Then she moved forward—arms gripping knives, legs anchoring and pushing against the boards. Each time she advanced, she'd yank the knives below her loose with her toes, fling them upward, and somehow catch them perfectly in her mouth before tucking them back into her sleeves.

It was less like climbing and more like watching a circus act from another planet.

Finn's jaw nearly hit the floor. 'This is… insane. Why can't my girls be this competent?! They've got talent—they just waste it on dumb crap!'

Silvara kept quiet. She just kept moving with precision, like she'd done this a thousand times.

Finally, she spat the last knife back into her sleeve and glanced upward.

Finn, still clinging to her back, asked the only logical question:

"What the hell are you planning to do?!"

Silvara's voice was flat, as always. "Reach the balcony."

"As in, you're just gonna keep stabbing knives into the floor until we're on the balcony?!" Finn asked, incredulous.

Silvara glanced at the blades in her hands. "Is that not exactly what I've been doing this whole time?"

"…Good point," Finn admitted, then blinked as another thought hit him. "Wait—what about my friends? The girls. They're probably down there barely clinging to life or already tumbling into the abyss. Aren't they under your protection too?"

"Yes," Silvara replied calmly. "But you are of higher priority than them."

Finn froze, his mouth half open… then slowly grinned. For once, he had nothing to complain about.

"…Okay." He wrapped his arms tighter around her back, thoroughly satisfied with this hierarchy of value.

Silvara said nothing more, steadily working her way upward. Knife by knife, she scaled the tilting floor until, before long, the balcony loomed just within reach.

"Can you reach it from here?" Silvara asked.

Finn looked up, squinting at the balcony. He thought for a long minute before groaning. "Nope. Probably not. I can barely do a pull-up without my arms giving out."

A pit of worry formed in his stomach. If she was about to pull some kind of insane circus stunt again, he wasn't sure if his nerves—or his pants—could handle it.

But Silvara didn't hesitate. She simply stopped climbing, bent her knees, and launched herself upward. In one smooth, effortless motion, she landed on the balcony railing like it was nothing. Balanced, clean, perfect.

"You can get off me now."

Finn didn't waste a second. He scrambled off her back with all the desperation of a man trying not to be treated like an old grocery bag.

The second his feet hit the railing, however, it let out a long, groaning creak.

Finn froze, horrified.

Silvara's landing? Silent. Graceful. Not a sound.

His? Sounded like the entire building was filing a noise complaint.

"…Not cool at all," he muttered, cheeks burning.

Finn looked down—and instantly wished he hadn't.

The situation below was absolute chaos. People tumbled in droves, piling onto one another at the bottom like some horrific game of human Jenga. The unlucky ones who couldn't hold on any longer just plummeted, hitting the wall—or the pile of bodies below—with a sickening thud.

But Finn didn't care about them. Strangers were replaceable. His squad—his so-called friends—were supposed to matter more.

Yet when his eyes found them, he wasn't sure if saving them was worth the headache.