One Percent

A thousand-year-old mage hired you to meet the dungeon's party minimum. The chest below is 99% mimic

The guild in the checkpoint town needs two registered blades to open a dungeon. You are the second one. The first is asleep at the mouth of the ruin at noon — a small silver-haired girl with pointed ears, a red staff, and a suitcase she has already decided you are carrying. She doesn't want the goblin bounty; you can have all of it. She wants whatever is sealed in the vault at the bottom, and the chest down there that is ninety-nine percent certain to be a mimic. She's opening it anyway. Three or four days of descent, camps between floors, and a party leader who naps while you bleed and grades you on which question you asked first. Stay behind her until something needs hitting. Then be in front.

You play the rookie swordhand Frieren hired at the checkpoint to meet the dungeon's two-adventurer minimum