CHAPTER 4: A Mountain in the Way

01

“Mr. Ghark, I look forward to working with you today! I have the results of the ten-day investigation!” shouted Gypsum, a young scout of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces.

He handed Ghark the document with a look of admiration.

Ten days after the previous survey, Ghark had received word from the Labyrinth Suppression Forces that they’d managed to enter the fifty-sixth stratum, and he went to meet them a second time. The bespectacled man with a calm demeanor was serving as his assistant again.

As he scanned the survey results, Ghark compared them to the collected samples lined up on the desk and wrote something in the report.

The samples had been collected by Gypsum, who followed Ghark’s lead. Ten days ago, Ghark’s group had used syringes to aspirate the gas and pass it through liquid, and they’d thrown a variety of minerals and metals into the fifty-sixth stratum before pulling them out. However, all of these reacted to a particular gas or deteriorated at a fixed temperature range. With no scale indicating the density or quantity, they performed Material Appraisal on the changed objects to understand the situation. It wasn’t at the same level as Ghark’s, but Gypsum had the Material Appraisal skill, too. And he was extremely athletic on top of that, so he was assigned to the scout unit of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces.

Ghark had developed a method of applying Material Appraisal to labyrinth exploration, and he’d released this information not only to soldiers of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces who’d been enlisted for a long time, but also to the Adventurers Guild. However, there was a big difference between learning from books and learning from direct experience. After he finished reading the report, Ghark handed it back to Gypsum, who was waiting tensely.

“This ain’t bad, but it needs a little more precision.”

“Th-thank you very much! I can’t believe I’m receiving instruction from a legendary scout!” Gypsum’s eyes sparkled in delight.

“If ye’ve got time to look at this feeble old man, go look at the materials and appraise ’em,” Ghark replied, waving his hand indifferently.

“Boy, he’s so lucky. Sir, teach me something, too,” asked his assistant. His tone of voice was calm, not too high or low, but it didn’t sound as envious as his words suggested.

“Ye don’t have the Appraisal ability, so ye don’t need this kinda knowledge in the first place,” Ghark answered, exasperated.

“Ouch,” replied his assistant, without flinching at all.

“Um, is that gentleman not your apprentice, Mr. Ghark?”

Outsiders shouldn’t be able to get involved with the Labyrinth Suppression Forces in the first place. Gypsum thought the assistant had to be Ghark’s apprentice blessed with the Appraisal skill.

“That one just came to me of his own accord and won’t leave me alone.”

“My name is Voyd. I am the husband of Mr. Ghark’s granddaughter. If anything were to happen to him, my wife would grieve.”

Put kindly, the assistant appeared harmless. To put it bluntly, he seemed as weak as they come. However, Ghark wouldn’t bring him along if he served no purpose at all. Although it didn’t make sense to Gypsum, he accepted it. “Then, shall we go?”

The three men donned their protective clothing once again and headed to the deepest part of the Labyrinth through the Labyrinth Suppression Forces’ underground route.

On the fifty-fourth stratum, a large-scale pump made from magical stones and the ruins of the Sea-Floating Pillar had been installed in the coastal caverns, sending seawater to the fifty-sixth stratum. The pipe running through the levels was metallic and large enough in diameter that small animals could scuttle through. Once you filled this pipe with water, it would continue to send water to the lower outlet until air entered its siphon. Because of the Labyrinth’s mysterious ability to preserve the climate and environment in each stratum, the water stopped at the stratum’s boundary and wouldn’t go to the lower one unless it was pumped.

If all they needed was more pipes, they could have secured more. But they only had one pump. And this was limiting the speed at which they could cool the fifty-sixth stratum. But with the Labyrinth maintaining climate and environment, the seawater in the fifty-fourth stratum never ran out.

After ten days of these cooling efforts, the formerly lush fifty-fifth stratum had completely changed.

The water pumped from the fifty-fourth stratum cooled the fifty-sixth and created steam that carried toxic air up to the fifty-fifth. The steam then cooled, changing it into a diluted acidic rain that fell. This destroyed the stratum’s greenery, leaving it with only dead trees.

With continuous efforts, the fifty-sixth stratum had apparently finally become cool enough for people to enter. Now only the tiniest puff of steam rose from the stairs. The fifty-fifth stratum’s atmospheric components had stabilized. It wouldn’t be long before it would be able to self-restore, changing it back into the lush and warm area that it had been in the past.

“Why do we need a pump for water to pass between strata? I mean, the steam can move between them on its own,” Voyd murmured as he looked at the wisps of steam.

“Must be because the things on this level hate water,” Ghark replied shortly.

After they examined the state of the fifty-sixth stratum from the top of the stairs and confirmed there were no problems, the trio entered the deepest part of the Labyrinth where no one had set foot before.

The air was high in humidity, fogging up their full-face goggles. Even though the toxicity of the air in the fifty-sixth stratum had technically become weaker, there was still enough that they couldn’t afford to remove their masks. It was suffocating down there, and not just from the low level of oxygen they could suck in through the masks. The steam was just so dense. The mask filters made from wyvern lungs did a great job purifying the poison and eliminating the steam. But processing the steam took up a lot of space and contributed to a claustrophobic feeling.

They avoided the path of the steam to maintain visibility, and they found more or less what they expected—a volcanic stratum with hardened lava spreading across the ground. The stairs were partly buried in cooled lava—solidified into rock—and had become a gently sloping cave.

The cave was wide enough for the trio to walk side by side. The ceiling soared above them, and the steam rose up to meet it. There were places where the path narrowed or forked from strewn boulders, but the trio knew it led to a single, wide area.

They proceeded carefully while measuring the composition and temperature of the gas at fixed intervals.

The rocks blanketing the stratum weren’t smooth like those found in mountains or rivers, but black and uneven with small holes throughout. Must have been from the hardened lava. They came in an array of sizes. In the mix, there were some that appeared to have broken apart from an explosion. It was said that the volume of water expanded by 1,000 percent when it turned into steam, so the impact must have been responsible.

The rocks scattered everywhere made the floor difficult to walk on. They would crumble as the trio tried to get across. Rocks had clustered together in unexpected places, too, impeding the trio’s progress.

There were times when tremors rocked the ground with indescribable sounds, causing the piles of rocks to tumble down and crumble. The three had to be careful near those rocks. They had the potential to crumble during one of the tremors. And who knew? They could be scorching hot on the inside.

The trio picked out a cooler location where water must have surged through, heading along the dried stream. It wasn’t very cool at all. The insides of the rocks burned red, hot enough to cause rolled scraps of paper to combust on contact.

With huffs of poison gas, bursts of blistering steam, and falling rocks, it was a hellish landscape. The only problem was that the three had yet to encounter any monsters since entering this stratum.

Of course, as scouts, they were careful to move discreetly, but there weren’t any monsters to notice them in the first place.

Wish a golem woulda come out or somethin’, Ghark thought.

If only there were more small fry. The magical power in the stratum would be divided accordingly, and the power of the stratum boss and its guardians would become weaker. But they couldn’t be further from a monster assault. In fact, there was no sign of a monster at all.

Steam spouted upward, and the temperature rose as they proceeded inward, avoiding the occasional rock that burst into pieces. The heat resistance of their protective clothing was beginning to fail. For the Labyrinth Suppression Forces to advance here, they needed to cool the stratum or use some other means.

Volcanic gas had rushed out onto the level when this stratum opened, most likely due to the high internal pressure building behind the seal before it was released. Under normal circumstances, it would have been consumed by the layer of lava covering the stratum. There shouldn’t have been any oxygen.

And yet, there was—albeit it was low, as in high altitudes, but they could still breathe.

It was proof that a monster lived here, breathing in this air—resisting high temperature, defying pressure, unaffected by this poisonous gas.

What could it be?

Rrrrrrrrumble.

Another earth tremor.

They wouldn’t be able to withstand anything hotter than this. Just as they were about to turn back, Voyd suddenly raised a hand and ducked into the shade of a rock to examine the stratum.

The other two followed suit and flattened themselves against the rock. Hot lava spread on the other side of the passage, glowing red on the ground everywhere. In certain places, the radiance was so powerful that it hurt their eyes to look at it. It must have been pools of lava.

“Hawk Eye,” called out the scout from the Labyrinth Suppression Forces. Gypsum had activated a type of skill to look at long-range distances. It allowed the user to see things obstructed by obstacles. Ghark and Voyd peered through magical tools to look far away. They weren’t as effective as Hawk Eye, but these bent the streams of light and allowed them to see on the other side of obstacles, which couldn’t be done with the naked eye.

Beyond their hiding place under the rock was a space that stretched on forever with pools upon pools of lava, making them feel as if they were back outside.

Rrrrrrrrumble. Another tremor made their way to them.

Oh, this must be the source. That much they could comprehend.

It shook the stratum as it slowly, slowly advanced on eight—or more—legs.

They knew it was walking, but there was one thing they couldn’t wrap their heads around.

“Is that…a volcano?”

The volcano with short legs crawled forward through the sprawling stratum.

“Grooooooooooar!” Something else had made a sound that shook the air and took flight from the peak of the volcano.

“Just as I thought. A dragon would hate this, eh?”

They had lowered the temperature and pressure of the stratum, allowing humans to enter. Did the dragon find it comfortable—or the opposite? From this great distance, they had no way of reading its facial expression.

Either way, a huge dragon with dark lava-red scales had spread its wings, leisurely soaring through the sky of the fifty-sixth stratum.

“I knew there would be one.”

After hearing the report from Ghark’s group, Leonhardt frowned. Everyone assembled in the council room had expected a dragon to arrive.

The tenacious creature could thrive in high temperatures, pressure, and even poison gas. The difficulty of defeating one went without saying. Dragons were classified as the most powerful monsters in existence.

“But a moving volcano?”

They had never heard of such a monster. By definition, the mountain should have been secure to the ground, but they’d seen it themselves, separated from the earth by short legs. Those appendages were the only part of it that moved, and the volcano had no visible head or body part that might belong to a living creature. It was a small mountain that could be circled in an hour, but it was slightly elliptical. At the top was a bowl-shaped crater. The number of legs could only be visually confirmed on the side facing them, and they’d counted four, which meant it had at least eight. The thick, squat legs supporting the heavy volcano moved excruciatingly slowly.

It must have been something like a turtle, based on the shape of its legs and the slowness of its gait. But it had no eyes, nose, or mouth. It was a mountain with no head, hardly resembling any living creature. It only toddled forward, spouting smoke from its peak.

It would head to pools of lava that burbled out of the earth and dip into them, soaking its cluster of legs to absorb the lava and leave it empty. It moved around seeking these pots of lava as food.

It was more accurate to call it replenishment than a meal. But after absorbing lava, the volcano’s movements would become a tad more energetic, and it would spout gas and erupting rocks and lava with a burp-like sound.

The dragon was thought to be the volcano’s guardian, and the crater might have been its nest. The circuits it flew around the stratum always began and ended there.

“At any rate, we can’t develop a strategy without more information. Weishardt?”

“Yes. Fortunately, the cooled temperature has not changed. Same can be said for the composition of the air. The volcano’s gas and oscillation of the temperature do not seem to affect the dragon in the fifty-sixth stratum. I believe we should move forward with cooling the stratum and replace the air to make conditions more favorable for our activities. Let us also have the scout unit proceed with investigating the volcano and the dragon. As for which potions will be most helpful, we shall have Nierenberg gather information from the alchemist.”

Even if there was nothing but despair on the horizon, they had to do what they could.

Leonhardt slowly rose from his seat along with everyone else assembled in the council room, ready to take the next steps.

02

“Hey, Mariela! Let’s grab some grub after the hunt tomorrow! I found a great place.”

“A feast!” Mariela cried, delighted that Lynx had invited her to dinner.

For the rest of the wyvern subjugation mission, the three men had pretended to collapse on the ground, playing dead, and hunted quite a few that way. And yet, they still hadn’t managed to reach A Rank. Even after the hunt was over, they were going to have to go into the Labyrinth to complete more requests.

After the subjugation was over, the Black Iron Freight Corps returned to normal operations and departed for the imperial capital once again. This time, the three who remained in the Labyrinth City were Malraux, Edgan, and Lynx. Lieutenant Malraux was researching policies that could be implemented once the monster-warding potions started circulating in the market. For this reason, it was best to have Edgan and Lynx increase their strength, since they had potential, and Jay joined the traveling party this time.

“Huh? Where are Sieg and Edgan?”

“They’ve got something else going on. It’ll just be the two of us.”

Mariela had been under the impression that this would be a group outing. But when the subjugation came to a close on the following day, the only person who came to meet her at Sunlight’s Canopy was Lynx. She cocked her head to the side in confusion.

This might be the first time Mariela and Sieg had ever had dinner apart while Sieg was in the Labyrinth City. While Sieg’s group had been out to hunt, Mariela had enjoyed lunches and tea with Caroline, Elmera, and other regulars. Sieg must have had his social obligations, too. But Mariela still couldn’t shake this weird feeling.

“I think the only time we’ve gone out by ourselves was when I first came to this city, Lynx.”

“Huh. Yeah. Can’t believe it’s already been six months.”

And now we’re close enough to talk about our memories together, Mariela thought as she followed Lynx, reminiscing on the time between her awakening and now.

“We’re here. The chef here used to work in the imperial capital.”

Whenever they went out to eat, they’d always gone to the Yagu Drawbridge Pavilion. But Lynx had brought her to a very fancy restaurant. There wasn’t a dress code or anything, and it wasn’t a place frequented by the upper class. But there wasn’t a single brash customer yelling a drunken soliloquy at the top of their lungs. Most of the customers were couples, and the women were a little dressed up. This restaurant had come at Amber’s recommendation. Apparently, the place was all the rage among women these days.

The dishes were arranged artfully in bite-size portions, and they were brought out in courses. The drink menu listed concoctions that she’d never heard of before. After listening to her rattle off her preferences, Lynx and the server chose a drink for Mariela that was a blend of several fruit juices with slices of fruit cut into fancy shapes decorating the rim of the glass. It made her think of a bird from a southern country. Each new dish was something she’d never tried before. They were all mouthwatering, but Mariela worried if Lynx would be full after all this, since he always polished off more than double what the average person ate.

“What a great meal! That was delicious,” Mariela exclaimed, getting ready to pay.

“I already took care of the check,” Lynx said.

Malraux had taught him a smooth way to handle the payment, making sure to do it while Mariela was in the restroom.

“You should stress that you’re treating to her a really expensive meal,” Edgan had said. But all his advice was obviously questionable, so Lynx chose to ignore it.

His strategy was to take her to a fancy restaurant—Amber’s recommendation and women’s favorite—escort her as a perfect gentleman (with the help of Malraux’s pointers), and capture her heart.

I mean, Sieg is a gentleman.

Lynx was closer to Mariela’s age, and he felt they saw eye to eye, too. But Sieg was a formidable foe. His mannerisms were suave with a touch of class, and he wasn’t unattractive, either. Because Mariela hadn’t seen him in this light, Sieg took on the role of a child’s guardian rather than a lady’s escort, but Lynx knew that he couldn’t take him lightly.

All the more reason why he had to show Mariela he was up to the task. According to his plan, he would make a reservation at a popular restaurant and conduct himself as charmingly as Malraux had taught him.

Except that even after they left the restaurant, Mariela kept chattering on about how good the food was. It was as if she was trying to be polite.

I screwed up, Lynx thought.

He had made this reservation knowing that it was popular with younger women. But eating so little at a time and speaking at such a low volume hadn’t suited him at all. Plus, Mariela seemed nervous about occupying a formal space for the first time. She was more subdued than usual. And most importantly, there hadn’t been a whole lot of food, and he felt like he hadn’t eaten at all. Mariela must have noticed he wasn’t satisfied, too.

Lynx had realized he’d put himself first—going through great lengths to get Edgan to distract Sieg—and he had put Mariela on edge in the process.

“Hey, Lynx,” Mariela said as he was lost in thought. “Um, want to go to the Yagu Drawbridge Pavilion? I could eat some more. And I’ll pay this time.”

Ha-ha, this girl.

He knew exactly what she was up to. She was full, but she’d made this suggestion because she was concerned Lynx hadn’t eaten enough. She must have noticed how uncomfortable that restaurant had made him.

“You’re gonna get nice and rooound again, Chubbyela.”

“I will not! And that’s ‘Mariela’ to you!” After puffing up her cheeks in anger, she burst into laughter. The pendant Lynx had given her bounced against her chest.

The sun had completely vanished below the horizon, and it was chilly, but he didn’t feel the biting winter cold. Every once in a while, they would pass by other people on the street. Some of them were humming drunkards.

“Is that what people mean when they say ‘in the prime of life’?”

“If you mean, ‘prime’ as in ‘primal.’”

They giggled softly together as they headed to the Yagu Drawbridge Pavilion, where they ordered food as they always did. They talked about the subjugations and the regulars at Sunlight’s Canopy. Their conversations were silly, but it carried a natural rhythm, and they never ran out of things to say.

I like that about her…

It was the way she’d subtly try to put a friend at ease, the way she became stiff in a fancy restaurant, the way she would cherish an inexpensive present, the way she would indulge him with inconsequential conversations.

He could be himself—not suave or cool or anything else. And Lynx had never felt more secure.

“You know how skills are passed down?”

This was why Lynx could talk with her about things he’d never told anyone before.

“Orphans in the Labyrinth City look for their parents based on their skills.”

“What? Did you find your parents, Lynx?”

“Nope,” he replied.

He’d heard Mariela was an orphan, too. There were many people with alchemy skills—in the past and in the present. It wouldn’t be possible to identify one’s parents unless one had unique skills, like Lynx.

“Of course, it was all in our heads. I mean, some of the kids who were good with spears claimed to be Captain Dick’s illegitimate child. Like, ha-ha. Good one. When he was how old? The ages didn’t match up.”

The orphans aspired to be the next Dick, who had grown up in the orphanage himself. Plus, he always looked older than his age, so Lynx could understand why the other kids would want to pretend to be his. Not that any of them actually believed in this charade.

But Dick couldn’t bring himself to be mean to those children.

“Whoa, Dick, I didn’t realize you were a womanizer,” Amber would chide in jest.

“Please say I’m your brother at the very least,” Dick would beg the children, noticing her cold gaze.

After exchanging a look with Lynx, Mariela smiled as she pictured Dick in a fluster.

“Well, an escapist dream of a little kid. If they were in any other city, the orphans might wish for their parents to come get them someday. But in the Labyrinth City, their parents were seldom alive. The kids wanna believe their parents were the best.”

“Wow. Was there someone that you wanted to be your dad, Lynx?”

Lynx had been laughing up until then, but he widened his eyes, looking into the distance.

“Nah. No one’s ever even heard of the shadowmaster skill, so……”

Mariela had never been told the details of the skill, and Lynx had been the first person she’d ever met who possessed it. It had to be rare.

From the little information she’d heard from Sieg, it allowed you to move in the shadows without being noticed by people or monsters. It also created knives from the darkness. It struck Mariela as awfully useful.

“Forging a weapon from the shadows sounds handy. I bet you can make, like, infinite weapons, right?” Mariela asked, changing the subject upon noticing Lynx had started to brood.

He started to look like himself again.

“Nah, it’s not like you’re making shadows into solid objects. Hmm… How can I put it? It’s like ‘intercepting’ something. All monsters and animals have bones and connective muscles where blood flows, so you intercept that a little. At my level, I can only attack with a shadow the size of a knife. Plus, for higher-ranking opponents, you might not be able to get ’em with a shadow blade—even if you could with a normal sword. Hiding in the shadows doesn’t really mean you’re in the shadows. It’s more like shifting my presence into them. I can be somewhere else, but I can make others think I’m in the shadows, you know. Meaning if I’m completely surrounded, I can’t sneak away. You’d be surprised at the limits of the skill.”

She thought the secrecy of the skill was important. Was it really okay to talk about it in detail? But then again, this was Mariela. She didn’t understand Lynx’s explanation in the first place.

“I see. I get it! You’re a pro at hide-and-seek,” she concluded with a nod.

“Bfaw, what? Well, against you, I’d win even without my skills!” Lynx chuckled.

Mariela was glad he was feeling better.

There’s no way someone with this skill would have an honest job.

He couldn’t say that to Mariela. Not when she believed the shadowmaster skill was unique and rare.

Lynx had a perfect understanding of the rarity of his own skill—and what uses suited it best.

03

The first time Lynx had become aware of his shadowmaster skill was before he’d reached the age of ten.

As Mariela had excitedly pointed out, he was great at hide-and-seek. No one could ever find him. His other forte was startling people by slipping behind their backs. From a young age, Lynx wondered if this had any relation to a skill.

Maybe I got a super-awesome one!

Any child who felt the future held endless possibilities would think that way.

Many of the children had been born with one or two ordinary skills—possessing no special talents.

But after sneaking into the teacher’s room at the orphanage in the middle of the night, Lynx found out the “Other” column in the skill section of his appraisal paper would be red. It was proof that he’d been blessed not with a common talent in swords or magic, but rather with a special, rare ability.

Lynx’s life might have been different had he accepted this with joy. But even though he was still young, Lynx knew that this was something that he shouldn’t wish for, even if it had the allure of being special.

The kids with “Other” skills were taken from the orphanage to get a proper appraisal and never came back…

He knew people with “Other” skills ended up as slave traders. After a thorough appraisal, those found to have the Contract of Servitude skill received specialized training before they were hired as slave traders. He didn’t know what other skills existed in the world nor the occupations of those with these skills. But he knew one thing for sure: Lynx’s idol Dick definitely didn’t have any of these special skills. The elite of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces pushed ordinary strengths—sword, spear, shield, magic—to their limits, to a level that could not be matched, earning them a spot among the best of the best.

That path had to be difficult. And their destination, too, wasn’t sunshine and rainbows. The soldiers stood shoulder to shoulder with death as they confronted the strongest monsters with their own skills and bodies.

For the youth—full of dreams and possibilities—that was inspiring, something to yearn for. Lynx didn’t want his whole life to be determined by his skills. He wanted to choose for himself and work toward his own goals. He only had his one body to offer—and that was why he wanted to become big, strong, and proud like Dick.

So Lynx decided to hide his skill. He made someone who appeared to have similar abilities as him secretly use appraisal paper beforehand, and when his own abilities were appraised, he switched the papers.

Lynx learned the name of his skill and the usual life path of its possessors after he joined the Black Iron Freight Corps.

Lynx felt lucky to have escaped appraisal and come to the Corps.

Most of those with the shadowmaster skill collected intel—or assassinated others—under the cover of the night. Since he began polishing the shadowmaster skill after he joined the Black Iron Freight Corps, his skill was still shoddy. As far as making weapons from shadows, he’d taught himself. However, he was still inexperienced at letting the shadows cloak him, and it was easy for high-ranking adventurers and those with sharp senses to find him.

But Lynx didn’t mind.

He wanted to be like Captain Dick—not lurking around to spill blood under the cover of darkness. He wanted to fight fair and square in bright places. That was his MO.

And he didn’t want to hide his true self from the giggling girl before him.

“Professor Lynx, please use your shadowmaster skill to cut up this cake,” Mariela prompted.

Lynx had fallen into thought when Mariela thrust a plate of cake at him.

“This is for looking after Emily,” the owner of the Yagu Drawbridge Pavilion had said, setting down the plate of cake he’d made specially for them. Since he’d made it in between serving customers, it wasn’t a sponge cake, but a dome of thin crepes, sandwiching cream and thin slices of fruit. It was the kind of cake where the sweetness of the cream and the acidity of the fruit came together in perfect harmony in one bite, and the springy texture of the crepes was a delight to eat.

If this wonderful cake had one fault, it was that it would be difficult to cut. If Mariela used a knife, the pillowy crepes would gently swallow it, pushing the cream out and ruining the beautiful shape that the owner had taken great pains to layer.

Once it was inside your mouth, it would all be the same, but he’d gone to such trouble to make it. Plus, Mariela knew that the cake would be particularly divine if she could feast on it with her eyes, too.

“You said your shadow knives can ‘intercept,’ right? I bet they could cut up this difficult cake into perfect slices,” Mariela proposed with a very serious expression indeed.

But hey, she’d remembered what he’d told her! Now, should he be amazed or exasperated by this unexpected practical use of his skills?

“…This’s the first time I’ve been told to cut a cake with my skill.”

Was Lynx exasperated or embarrassed? She couldn’t guess from his smiley eyes, but he sliced the cake for her with an audible shlip.

“Wow! Amazing! It’s perfect!” Mariela lauded with sparkling eyes, commenting on how she couldn’t possibly eat it because it was so beautiful. And yet, she immediately snatched up a small plate to serve it.

He’d managed to slice it in near perfection, but she fumbled serving it. On her plate, the slice flopped over on its side, and her mouth gaped open in surprise.

“Classic Mariela,” he said, unable to contain his laughter.

Guess Mariela can only see this shady weapon of mine as handy cookware, huh? Well, I guess even with alchemy, there are poisons and other dangerous potions…

Mariela had never broached the topic with him, but Lynx had happened to hear about potions in the imperial capital that killed people. He had no doubt that even if Mariela were asked to make one, she’d either tell an obvious lie, insisting she had no clue, or she would stand her ground and refuse to make it.

I guess any skill is what the user makes of it, huh…?

Of course, there were appropriate uses for each skill, but he had a vague idea that no skill existed that could be used for only good deeds.

This eased the guilty conscience that had haunted him all his life for having an ability that wasn’t exactly a good thing.

“Lynx, you have the biggest piece.” It seemed she was able to transfer this serving to a plate without tipping it over. After all, it had a large enough base to support its weight. “See? I did it this time.” Mariela giggled as she offered him the cake. She seemed no different from any other ordinary girl, and she must have viewed Lynx as a normal young man.

It put him at ease. Lynx was starting to think that it would be nice if he could come home to this one day. And once again, Lynx was acutely aware of the true nature of this feeling.

04

“I shouldn’t be the one saying this—I mean, I tag-teamed you with Lynx and all—but are you sure it’s all right to let them be alone together? I’m pretty sure Lynx isn’t confessing to Mariela to light a fire under your ass, Sieg.”

As Mariela and Lynx were enjoying their meal together, Sieg and Edgan were having a drink at Edgan’s usual bar.

“I have time alone with Mariela every day,” Sieg answered, gazing into his glass.

“Whaaat? Aren’t you confident? You saying you won’t lose to Lynx? Have you already gone that far with Mariela?”

Any chatter about love lives made Edgan’s ears twitch. His ears actually were twitching. Literally.

“It’s not like that.”

That was right. Sieg gazed at his glass, musing about how he and Mariela didn’t have that kind of relationship. It was closer to parent and child or brother and sister. That was what Mariela had wanted, so Siegmund had stayed by her side as her guardian.

“Well, Lynx is closer to her age, y’know. And to her interests and values. Well, when it comes to food, I mean,” Edgan added. He kept glancing at Sieg, over and over. “Mariela’s a good girl. She’s a great cook—well, other than her original creations. I know Lynx’s type: clumsy, ordinary, naive.”

“Ugh…”

That hit Sieg where it hurt. He swung his drink back, hanging his head in a way that was beyond his years, even though he was in his mid-twenties.

“I envy Lynx…”

“Let it all out!” Edgan squealed, giddy to see Sieg hanging his head, even though Sieg had always comforted Edgan during his never-ending string of rejections. “The age difference really got you, huh? That’s got to be it. I mean, it’s so important. You can change everything except that! I knew it! That’s why Jennifer told me she couldn’t get with me!”

Somewhere along the way, he had abruptly changed course and started to talk about himself. With some sympathy for Sieg, the bar’s owner poured an expensive drink and handed it to him. “This one’s on Edgan.”

“Whaaat?! Since when did I say I was treating him? Hey, I never—”

“Shaddap. How about you toast to breaking it off with Jennifer or whatever? With your own money.”

“I’ll do that. Oh, this is the good stuff. I’m surprised you got it here in the Labyrinth City.”

“Aren’t you from the Black Iron Freight Corps who brought it here…?”

Incidentally, this place had no female employees. The seats were limited to the number the owner could serve by himself, and the bar itself was a hole in the wall. But it was known for its good drinks. Since the Black Iron Freight Corps were the ones who had supplied the alcohol, it was normal that Edgan would know about it. What was surprising was that he’d be a regular at this refined establishment.

The place was more empty than usual today. Only a single customer in a hood sat at a corner table, drinking quietly.

“And? What’ll you do, Sieg? When you get to A Rank and get free, I mean. Or you could give up on being free and stay as a slave by Mariela’s side?” Edgan continued his obstinate questions.

Sieg continued to drink with his head down. He couldn’t see Edgan’s eyes, but they weren’t glassy from the drinks. As a member of the Black Iron Freight Corps, he must have been trying to assess the escort of the girl under their protection. Well, no doubt there was an element of base curiosity in his questions, too.

“Nothing. Even if I become A Rank and earn my freedom, I’ll remain her escort.”

“What? Even if Lynx wins her over?”

“That’s right.”

“Why? After going to all the trouble to get free? And becoming A Rank, to boot? You could have it all: fame, fortune, women. You don’t need to take the high road. Life’s short, man. Let’s enjoy it.”

Sieg raised his head and looked at Edgan.

“Yes. And she saved mine.”

Sieg’s piercing blue eye seemed infinitely deep and honest.

There was no way to know the full extent of the emotion behind it.

Sieg was envious of Lynx.

Lynx was closer to Mariela in age than Sieg, and he was stronger.

And Sieg felt the sight of Mariela and Lynx together was more natural and fitting than him and Mariela. Sieg had always strived toward to make her desires reality, with her best interest in heart. But since she first met Lynx, the two of them had naturally hit it off and enjoyed talking to each other.

And he was jealous of that, too.

Even if he were freed from slavery, they were the things that he could never have.

So what? Mariela had given him everything, even when he was on the verge of death. There was no way Sieg would ever forget that.

It wasn’t just the uncurable wounds that she healed or the way she treated him with respect as a human being. It wasn’t just that she’d handed him material possessions—a sword, protective gear, the stability of food, clothing, and shelter.

He’d realized something when he defeated a wyvern without his Spirit Eye.

She had saved the arrogant, foolish, and selfish human being known as Siegmund.

She had saved his life and redeemed his future.

It didn’t matter if he was a slave or a free man. Even if he was jealous of Lynx, even if he longed for Mariela, Siegmund would continue to keep those feelings inside himself to serve her.

Although Sieg didn’t form those thoughts into words, the frivolous smile slipped from Edgan’s face, and the younger man gazed into his single blue eye as if weighing the emotions in his heart.

“I feel like I left myself wide-open for that one,” Edgan finally said quietly, uncharacteristically serious.

“Well, no reason to look so down,” Sieg said comfortingly, even though he should have been the one who needed to hear it most.

Why’s Edgan the one bein’ cheered up? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? thought the bar owner, but of course, he was the only one who heard his question.

“Mariela’s a tough nut to crack. She’s clueless. I wonder how long the young Lynx can hold out.”

“Hmm? What’s this? Sieg, you’re so confident! Did something happen between the two of you?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. I’m starting to think I could help Mariela into the bath, and she’d just coo ‘That’s the life.’”

“An in. You’re the caregiver, eh?”

“Sure am!”

Silence prevailed in the watering hole. Both Sieg and Edgan drank together without a peep. Drinking away one’s pain was an acquired taste for adults. Normally, the bar owner would stop them—“I think you’ve had enough”—but even he said, “I’ll be open until dawn tonight,” and lined up his best stuff on the shelf. All at Edgan’s expense, of course.

As if sensing the vibe of the bar, the man drinking alone at a corner table quietly stood up. He didn’t want to be a nuisance to the young men. When he left the establishment, a half-moon appeared in a break between the clouds.

From full to waning, from waxing to full. The moon’s form was as uncertain as the wandering hearts of youths.

Would that moon start to wax? Or would it start to wane?

Oh moon, grow full for the sake of their future…!

The spring breeze blew off the man’s hood, revealing a head as bright as a full moon.

“Snappy!”

Although no one was around to see it, the man flashed a thumbs-up, then disappeared to the next establishment.

05

With each new investigation of the volcanic fifty-sixth stratum, they seemed to be getting further from coming come up with a way to subjugate it.

Weishardt had hit a wall of unprecedented heights.

They’d prepared masks and protective clothing made from wyvern materials. They’d cooled the wide passage from the stairs to the open area and cleared away rocks to make it easier for troops to pass through.

But that was all that they’d managed to do.

Where they had found the “walking volcano” was a vast area; they couldn’t cool the whole thing.

To make matters worse, when they emerged into the open space from the passage and at least tried to irrigate it, the dragon flew into the air and attacked them with its hot breath. Lava pools burbled out from the ground. Even if they managed to cool part of it with liberal use of regular and magical water, it would return to its normal temperature in no time. This endeavor was doomed from the start.

Nierenberg asked the alchemist if there was a potion that allowed activity in a high temperature environment. She’d answered that there was one that produced a thin membrane of ice to protect against heat called “Ice Spirit’s Protection.” And there was a type of polymorph medicine called “Demi-Dragon Medicine” that could transform one’s body into something like a demi-dragon, who could thrive even in harsh environmental conditions. The problem was that Ice Spirit’s Protection was a special-grade potion, meaning the alchemist couldn’t make it. As for the Demi-Dragon Medicine, which was only high-grade, it required the scales of a red dragon. There was no question that the dragon in the fifty-sixth stratum was one, but if they could get close enough to obtain the scales, there wouldn’t be much of a need for this medicine anymore. In other words, neither option was realistic.

They’d gotten in touch with the Black Iron Freight Corps, who’d just arrived in the imperial capital, to ask if they could obtain information on red dragon scales. But they knew S-Rank monster materials didn’t just appear on the market; there was little hope of success.

The report from the scout unit that left Weishardt’s office mere moments ago wasn’t promising, either. The scorching air burned up all the insect summoner’s insects, and the only information that the sonar users had been able to glean supported the results of the visual survey. There was only one new thing that they’d learned. The open area was where the red dragon searched for the enemy, and as soon as the Forces emerged from the staircase into the area to the walking volcano, the dragon would immediately go on the attack.

Was it displeased at the low temperature of the fifty-sixth stratum? Or was it irritated with the scuttling humans? In either case, the dragon faced the passage and breathed its fire into it to incinerate a dozen slaves and cause serious injuries to both scouts and combat engineers, according to reports. By serious injuries, they meant losses of limbs that couldn’t be healed with high-grade potions.

Based on the damage, the red dragon must have been at the top of the monsters within the S Rank.

These six months have been going too well. Isn’t it normal for casualties to occur during a Labyrinth operation? How many of our soldiers were eaten by the basilisk?

Weishardt wasn’t convinced.

As expected. The only thing we can do is strive for S- or A-Rank soldiers, except…

He took out a document listing high-ranking adventurers in the imperial capital. It was confidential material that needed high security clearance to access. Even this top-secret document had the whereabouts of only one of the three S-Rank adventurers out there.

The Gold Lion General, Leonhardt Schutzenwald.

Weishardt’s brother.

In terms of strength, he was as powerful as an A-Rank adventurer, but the Lion’s Roar tipped him over the edge to an S-Rank, since his skill increased the abilities of his team.

One of the remaining two, the Isolated Hollow had vanished more than ten years ago and hadn’t been heard from since. The other, the Sword Savant, apparently lived with disciples on a steep mountain at the northern edge of the imperial capital—either over a hundred years old by now, or dead.

It was obvious why an S-Ranker would disappear or stay in a secluded area where ordinary people couldn’t enter. While the Labyrinth Suppression Forces were at a loss in the face of a red dragon, the Isolated Hollow could protect the Forces from its breath, and the Sword Savant could have brought the flying dragon crashing to the earth—perhaps ending its life. There was no way that an individual with superhuman strength would be allowed to live in peace. The rich, the powerful, and the ambitious would try to win them over.

Even Leonhardt—a public figure, a member of the margrave’s family, the general of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces—had limited freedom because he was bound to the Labyrinth.

The Labyrinth City had very few people with A-Rank power: Weishardt of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces, Dick of the Black Iron Freight Corps, guildmaster Haage the Limit Breaker of the Adventurers Guild, Lightning Empress Elsee…

Applying their strongest to this mission meant serious repercussions in the unlikely event that they failed. It wouldn’t just cause the mission to capture the Labyrinth to stagnate; it would affect the future of the Labyrinth City itself.

There had to be other ways to effectively attack the red dragon, but they came up with a plan for the Lightning Empress to hit the fire-breathing creature with a lightning attack. Would they really be able to down the beast…?

“Pardon me. I have requests from the Adventurers Guild and the Merchants Guild.”

An aide came to deliver official documents to Weishardt as he ruminated. The internal administration of the Labyrinth City was his job, too. He took the documents and quickly divided them into approved and rejected piles.

“Hmm? What’s this?”

“Is there something wrong with the document?” the aide asked. He had checked for imperfections in the documents beforehand to reduce the burden on Weishardt.

“No, the document is fine, but what in this world is this: ‘Regarding Limits on the Young Entering the Labyrinth’?”

“Yes. Recently, there have been high-quality medicines circulating in the City. It has been good for reducing casualties, but the number of children going into the Labyrinth seems to have increased. The goal is to take measures of some sort to prevent the unthinkable from happening.”

To children, the Labyrinth made a nice playground, and at the same time, it was a valuable source of income for orphans. He hadn’t thought there would be harmful effects from high-quality medicines making the rounds, which had allowed adventurers to go into the Labyrinth with greater peace of mind than before.

“It appears that adventurers are bragging that they can escape from monsters by using the newest smoke bombs on the market, and children unfamiliar with the Labyrinth are believing them.”

“And what’s the source of these smoke bombs?”

“They appear to originate from the apothecary cosponsored by the young lady of the Aguinas household, but they’re now obtainable from most apothecaries…… Erm, shall I order the suspension of sales?”

The Aguinases. Upon hearing this name, Weishardt pressed his temples as if he were trying to quell an intense headache.

There is no way I could order that…

Mariela’s public classes and study groups on making medicine and smoke bombs had found great success. The quality of medicine had dramatically improved in a little under half a year. A variety of effective medicines utilizing her manufacturing methods had entered the market. Another contributing factor was that a great number of magical tools had been developed to aid in medicine manufacturing.

A large part of the initial stage of growth for new products was development. It was more profitable to find new niches than to compete on the same products. Salves, oral medications, and monster-affecting smoke bombs had quickly become indispensable for low-ranking adventurers now that they were highly effective. The consumption of those items increased, and the connection between quality goods and a handsome profit had been firmly established in the public consciousness.

In the Labyrinth City, the resident’s understanding of medicine expanded quickly, which reduced deaths from childhood illnesses and diminished the horror of sickness and injury. Of course, there was no need to worry too much about these things. It was preferable for perceptions to be corrected based on the actual situation. The problem was that young and inexperienced children were becoming numb to the horror of the Labyrinth. In the long term, this fear was the difference between life and death in the Labyrinth City. Although the death rate in the Labyrinth Suppression Forces had been decreasing recently, many people from the City had lost their lives in the Labyrinth. Even if they survived and returned, many sustained injuries that prevented them from ever entering its premises again.

I can’t tell Carol to stop making medicine and smoke bombs…!

They didn’t need to limit the access of the orphans who made their living from gathering in the Labyrinth, nor ban the medicine and smoke bombs created by Caroline and the chemists. What they needed was to provide the children—those who would bear the burden of subjugating the Labyrinth in the future—with proper knowledge and techniques. Above all, Weishardt didn’t want to cause undue worry for Caroline, who took pleasure in helping everyone with her medicine. He wanted her to smile. Forever.

Even yesterday, she’d bashfully looked up at him and smiled.

“My, Lord Weis,” she had said. “You’re too kind! That’s just the sort of thing that I…!” She had stopped herself there. How lovely her flushed cheeks and dewy eyes were!

No, that just an illusion from the dream incense…!

Leonhardt and his subordinates had been secretly providing him with some dream incense. He couldn’t help himself from using it. But that water pipe could be dangerous. He really had to stop using it before he did something strange in front of the real Caroline.

These insignificant worries had increased, although there were ways to handle those. The solution for this problem was simpler than subjugating the red dragon.

“Establish a school for the common people. Make the basics of reading, writing, arithmetic, and combat mandatory for all. Establish a committee to conduct studies to halve injuries and deaths among young adventurers. I do not mind if it’s not perfect at first. Press forward so that we may open a school in one month’s time, even if only a provisional one.”

Before, he wouldn’t have had the budget. His hands would have been tied. Now that they could obtain potions at the same price as the average in the imperial capital, they had been able to acquire a consistent supply of not only basilisk leather, but expensive materials from the deep strata of the Labyrinth. He had a little more financial leeway than before. Even if a person didn’t possess fighting skills, learning how to fight would allow them to defeat the equivalent of one goblin. Knowing the ecosystem and correct way to deal with each stratum would allow them to gather materials. Up to now, there had been a great number of citizens living in the Labyrinth City who had never been in the Labyrinth itself, but if those people went even to the shallow strata, they had the potential to accumulate more wealth.

Weishardt dealt with the remaining documents one at a time. Now he had a clearer vision for dealing with the problems surrounding the internal administration of the Labyrinth City—problems that had been plaguing him forever. But he hadn’t found even a clue on how to defeat the red dragon.

That night, the pleasant gurgles of sleep talk could be heard from Weishardt’s bedroom. His aides would have to keep more secrets than those regarding the Labyrinth and potions.

06

“Pallois! Elio! Mother’s here! Your mother has come to get you!”

Elmera flew into Sunlight’s Canopy looking absurdly happy.

“Palloiiis, Eliooo! Mmmm…!”

Two boys had been reading books and quietly playing in a corner of the shop with Emily and Sherry. Elmera embraced them and planted big kisses on their cheeks.

Mariela knew her true colors, so she wasn’t particularly surprised. But Elmera was in a long navy-blue dress that showed no skin, and wearing gloves and boots. With her hair bundled into a tight bun and glasses on her nose, she seemed positively uptight. Any stranger who saw her fawning over these boys would be shocked. In fact, one of the chemists drinking tea in the shop was currently spraying the beverage back into his cup. Gross. This marked the moment when they created a new rule in Sunlight’s Canopy: “Wash your own cup.”

The thirteen-year-old boy named Pallois screwed up his face in annoyance. “Mom, not in public.”

The nine-year-old, Elio, smiled happily. “Mama!”

Elmera looked far more delighted than her two boys—embarrassed and elated. She was always working, leaving the care of her children to her husband, but her greatest wish was to become more motherly. She was too excited about “Pick Up Your Children Day.” Even at work, she’d been fidget-fidget-fidgeting. It had gotten to the point that Vice Chairman Leandro, who was always making other people do work, told her he and the others would take care of the rest so she could go.

Well, it was Leandro, so he probably foisted all her work onto someone with less authority.

“Mariela, thank you for watching my children. If you’d like, please share this with everyone.”

After embracing her children for a while, Elmera handed Mariela a large bundle.

To clarify: Sunlight’s Canopy had not begun offering daycare services, too. But both parents were working today, so the children had been put in Mariela’s care. Emily and Sherry were at Sunlight’s Canopy, too, and all the regulars were fond of children. Playing in the corner of a shop, the children weren’t much of a nuisance; they entertained the peskier customers, so they even were helpful in a way.

“I caught these while I was working today,” she explained. She was describing a bundle of blast lobsters like she’d picked up some weeds on the side of the road.

These lobsters were so big that they needed to be held with both hands. As the “blast” part of their name implied, they could unleash attacks from their pincers that were as powerful as a stone thrown by an adult human. If you avoided the attack and got close enough to catch them, these reckless creatures would self-destruct in a suicide mission. It was said their ability to kill predators left the environment safer for their offspring, and this was why they’d been able to survive among so many strong monsters.

This all made catching the lobsters excruciatingly difficult, but their flavor was exquisite. There were about twenty of them in the bundle.

Gulp. Mariela swallowed. She seemed much younger than she was, gulping audibly while ogling the food. But it was important to understand that she’d never seen a blast lobster before. They were very rare—not even available in the wholesale market. That was the Lightning Empress for you. To think she caught them with ease.

“I’ll make king-size fried lobsters. I’ll deep-fry them whole… You’ll all eat some, right?”

Pallois’s and Elio’s faces almost glowed in delight at Mariela’s suggestion. Amber and the Nierenbergs looked like they had no objections. Emily was already drooling.

“Well, I did catch them to thank you. Are you sure it’s all right…?” Elmera placed her forefinger on her chin in thought, and Mariela offered a proposal.

“Your husband isn’t back yet. How about you cook some together with Pallois and Elio for him?”

So now it had become “Cook with Your Children Day.” And “Express Gratitude to Your Father Day.” It was impossible for Elmera to not be on board with this plan. Emily and Sherry wanted to give some to their fathers, too. After the customers left and the shop was closed for the day, Mariela, Elmera, and the two boys began to make giant fried lobsters.

“Um, Mr. Lobster’s leg is moving…”

“Oh, you gave it a bit of an electric shock. It’s not alive. Don’t worry, Elio,” consoled Pallois.

Elmera’s blood must have run strong through the younger brother, Elio, as he appeared to possess some kind of lightning skill. It seemed he didn’t have much control over his own power—probably because he was young—which Mariela had deduced from his rubber clothes resembling a raincoat. As if he were afraid of hurting people with a lightning attack, he always hid behind his older brother and was reserved around Emily and Sherry. Pallois often looked after him; Elio’s lightning attacks must not have been a big deal to him. What a nice brother.

“If you tear off the shell at the third joint on its back, you can easily peel off the rest. See?”

“Sherry, you’re amazing!” Emily exclaimed.

Sherry must have possessed the dissection skill. She peeled the shells from the blast lobsters with artful finesse.

In the Labyrinth City, food wasn’t divided up into consumable portions, particularly in the wholesale market. If there was a bird that was large enough to feed an entire family, it would be sold whole. Even big game was sold in enormous lumps with the bones intact. Since each household had to prepare its own food, it was said that women with dissection skills had no trouble finding husbands.

That’s Sherry.

As Mariela removed the guts from the peeled blast lobsters and left incisions in the lean muscle meat, she trembled at Sherry’s maidenly prowess. Incidentally, Elmera, who normally never cooked at all, giggled in delight as she watched her children’s efforts and vigorously crushed inordinate amounts of dry bread into crumbs. Amber was acting rather devious as she brought out the bread; she must have intended to use this opportunity to stock up for the future.

“Eek!”

“I—I… I’m sorry…”

Sherry had reached out to help Elio, who was having trouble peeling the blast lobster shells. When their hands touched, he had apparently zapped her.

“It’s okay! I was just startled, that’s all.” Sherry comforted him, but Elio’s large eyes filled with tears.

“I’m…sorry. I…I don’t want you to hate me…”

He’d probably lost friends from this static electricity zinging those around him at the slightest touch. Sherry looked at the boy who seemed like he would start crying at any minute.

“…How cute…” She gazed upon him like Nierenberg looked at his patients. It made Elio’s cheeks flush red.

…Sherry certainly is Dr. Nierenberg’s daughter…

At that moment, Mariela became convinced Sherry and Nierenberg had something in common aside from their black hair.

Despite a few unexpected incidents, Elio added flour, eggs, and bread crumbs to the lobsters. His hands seemed to be covered in these ingredients, ready to be deep-fried themselves. Meanwhile, Sherry made soup, and Elmera completed her mass production of bread crumbs, then finely chopped leafy greens in midair with a vigorous bzz-zz-zz-zz sound. Right when Amber finished arranging the salad, the king-size fried lobsters, featuring whole blast lobsters, was done.

They decided to cook pilaf, too, since most of the bread had been ground into crumbs. It was placed into a large bowl. The A-Rank-adventurer-turned-food-processor was astonishingly convenient. The chopping was done instantly, making the whole affair take a short amount of time.

As if timing it to coincide with dinner, Elmera’s husband made his appearance at Sunlight’s Canopy. He looked like a very kind man who was a good fit for Elmera, and they matched right down to their glasses. For some reason, Ghark was with him. Just when Mariela was about to ask what was wrong, Elmera spoke up in delight.

“Darling! Grandpappy! Welcome! Grandpappy, let’s have dinner together. The children helped us make it!”

What a shock. Well, it seemed obvious in retrospect. Elmera did look like Ghark’s granddaughter. Did she get her enthusiasm for medicinal herbs from him?

“‘Grandpappy’?!”

“…Shaddap. And El, quit callin’ me that.” Ghark stared fixedly at Mariela, who looked like she might burst out laughing. He was about to return to his own store when a pair of children leaped on him.

“Grandpa!”

“Paw-paw!”

“Jeez! Pallois! Elio! Elio, don’t hug me with those hands o’ yers.”

Amid the excitement, Sieg, Lynx, and Edgan returned to Sunlight’s Canopy, and it turned into a chaotic dinner.

They sank their teeth into the huge fried lobsters. Well, at least Lynx and Edgan did, befitting a pair of young men, while Sieg cut his into bite-size pieces and ate with grace.

The blast lobster had a rich, meaty taste, but when it was fried, the muscles tightened up, making it tough. By cutting into the muscles according to the recipe, it became chewy enough to loosen and melt in your mouth, allowing you to fully savor the flavor enriched by the coating. The blast lobster was delicious. Unthinkably delicious. Except for one thing…

“This man is always saying how bored he is when I’m not around.”

“That’s because you’re always so electrifying, my dear.”

Flirt. Flirt. Flirt. Flirt.

What the heck? I haven’t even eaten half yet, and I already have heartburn…

The Seele couple had begun shamelessly flirting in public.

“Here, darling. Open wide.”

“You’ve got sauce on your face. Slurp!”

Mariela kept chewing and chewing her lobster, awkwardly searching for a place to look. Lynx ate even faster than usual. He was already plunging into his third helping.

Sieg kept glancing at Mariela’s mouth to see whether there was any sauce, but on this occasion, she was eating very politely. There was none. He dabbed some sauce on his own mouth as a last resort, which everyone ignored.

As for Edgan, he had crunched up the lobster tail, which was too hard and almost inedible. The inside of his mouth had to be bloody.

“Blasted lobsters! Blast!” he kept muttering. It was starting to get a little scary.

“Miss Mariela is a brilliant chemist.” Elmera was introducing Mariela to her husband, Voyd, but the couple was too much in their own world for it to stick.

Their two sons must have been used to this, because the children were the only ones who were excited.

“Edgan uses dual swords; Lynx uses short swords; Sieg uses a one-handed sword. They said they’ve been hunting cyclops in the thirty-eighth stratum.”

Voyd nodded along with Elmera’s explanation, but he briefly stopped her when she mentioned Sieg.

“Hmm? One-handed sword, huh? He strikes me as an archer, but…,” he muttered.

How did he know? Sieg stiffened at the sudden observation.

“Well, I used to be an adventurer in the past. I can guess someone’s weapon from their movements, their muscle mass, and the air around them. That’s my specialty,” Voyd answered with a smile to dispel the awkwardness. “The muscle mass on your left and right arm is different. Of course, that could be an indication of a one-handed sword user, too, but your build is specific to an archer.”

“I lost my dominant eye, so I changed to swords,” Sieg explained before Voyd could elaborate further.

“Hmm? But isn’t it still possible to aim with one eye? You’d have a hard time changing your dominant eye, but if it’s a weapon you were accustomed to using, you’ll still have muscle memory. I wonder if that would be easier for you than starting over with swordsmanship.”

Guessing what Voyd was insinuating, Sieg made no reply and averted his eyes.

“Ah, here I am, prying into the affairs of a high-ranking adventurer. If I’ve caused offense, I apologize.” With that, Voyd returned to his frivolous conversation with Elmera.

That night, Sieg took out the practice bow and arrows he’d previously stowed away and gazed at them in his room alone.

He understood what Voyd wanted to tell him: “It’s not that you can’t use a bow, it’s that you won’t.”

I don’t want to remember anything from that time…

He didn’t want to remember the way he’d depended on the powerful divine protection of the Spirit Eye. He hadn’t known how to use any weapon besides a bow, nor how to strengthen his body and weapon with magic. The idea of bowing his head to someone and asking for instruction was intolerable to him. Even though he hadn’t studied under anyone, the bow and arrows meant for hunting animals had been sufficient to defeat monsters.

“Don’t challenge monsters with an ordinary weapon,” people would tell him.

He’d been pleased every time someone told him this, taking it to mean his own talents were superior.

But now he understood. They were warning him to have the right weapon and armor for the monsters he faced.

All his money had practically vanished as soon as he got it. Instead of quality weapons or armor, he had bought things that weren’t useful in battle—fashionable clothes and shoes. He had sunk money into overpriced alcohol and food. He had enjoyed showing off. As someone chosen by the Spirit Eye, as someone with superior skills, he didn’t want to look like a person from a remote village near the Fell Forest or like a bumpkin. Whenever he learned of recent trends, he freely poured his money into them.

He didn’t want to remember what had happened after his lost his Spirit Eye, either.

If he could just complete the required number of quests, he would reach A Rank. That was what he thought, but it was doubtful whether he was even C Rank without his Spirit Eye. He hadn’t wanted to admit he was weaker than the comrades he’d once tyrannized, drunk on his own power.

He’d been convinced that he couldn’t use a bow without his Spirit Eye.

But now…

Sieg placed the bow and arrows back on the shelf again and raised his mythril sword, still in its sheath.

Now he could use strengthening abilities. He could even pour magical power into his weapon. His physical abilities were better now than they were back then. Even if he didn’t use a bow, they would get him to A Rank.

Even without a Spirit Eye, he’d surpassed his former self. That foolish, useless version of himself no longer existed. So what if he couldn’t use a bow?

That day, Sieg went to sleep without looking at his reflection in his sword and without removing his sword from its sheath.

Because if he looked at his reflection in the sword now, he would surely notice something.

Looking back at him would be his regret, his avoidance, and the weak will that remained in him even now.

07

He’d thought the sky was blue.

There was no fog, exactly, just thin clouds hanging white and low as far as the eye could see. Although he had decent visibility around him, the distant mountains appeared hazy.

The springtime haze appeared to be a mirage. It was as though he’d never reach it, even if he spurred his horse.

It made him feel like someone was telling him: “You can’t go anywhere. You can’t escape the Labyrinth.”

As he gazed up at the hazy spring sky, Leonhardt couldn’t shake that feeling. He’d always been confined to the Labyrinth. Looking at the sky wasn’t something he ever did.

Leonhardt held in his hand a letter delivered by the Black Iron Freight Corps. It was a private message from his son, though the child had nothing in particular to keep secret. He had addressed this letter to his father to thank him for the sword he’d sent as a birthday present, and to say he wanted to hurry and come to the Labyrinth City so he could defeat the Labyrinth with his father. Leonhardt thought about his son, whom he hadn’t seen in a long time.

In appearance, his son was a carbon copy of the young Leonhardt, but his Lion’s Roar hadn’t manifested in him. It was a rare skill, possessed by neither his father nor his grandfather, so it was no wonder it hadn’t appeared in his son. That said, future generations could still inherit it, which was why it had been decided that Leonhardt’s son would succeed him as Margrave Schutzenwald after he retired. And that meant he would take over the subjugation of the Labyrinth, too.

To Leonhardt, that seemed cruel.

With or without Lion’s Roar, his son wasn’t suited for battle.

This didn’t mean he was weak. He possessed the same excellent physical abilities and knack for magic as Leonhardt did. Currently, he was far away from the Labyrinth City, studying and training under the guidance of Leonhardt’s father. If everything went well, he would reach the equivalent of an A Rank when it came to strength. But based on the reports that Leonhardt received at regular intervals, he suspected his son’s true abilities manifested in internal administration. Leonhardt regretted that; he would be a fine lord if only the Labyrinth didn’t exist.

In the house of Margrave Schutzenwald, protecting the people’s way of life, serving the Empire as retainers of the emperor, and destroying the Labyrinth all meant the same thing. These were their duties. In particular, Leonhardt was born with Lion’s Roar and received specialized training from a young age to destroy the Labyrinth. He’d given no thought to it whatsoever. He was raised to believe it was a matter of course.

He’d felt that marrying the woman he’d been engaged to since infancy and passing on his bloodline were part of the duties he’d been charged with. It was all part of his work.

Until he held his son in his arms.

He had been a soft creature, completely powerless. The top of his head was plush with supple skin. His neck couldn’t even hold his head upright. This was beyond Leonhardt’s understanding. He had a strange fear of this weak little thing; when the baby was placed in his arms, he couldn’t move a muscle. Without the power of speech, the baby immediately burst into tears. Although he was given precious milk, he spit up a little when he was burped. As for the bit that he kept down, he excreted it at an astonishing speed. Well, even adults sometimes rushed to the toilet and threw up when they drank too much, so it wasn’t as if he couldn’t understand that.

But his son was horribly warm.

Leonhardt sensed tremendous energy and possibility in the scorching body he could feel through the baby’s clothes.

Incredible, he thought. That was it. This was life. Leonhardt felt the energy to live burning in this tiny body.

He had a sudden urge to leave a better world behind for his newborn child.

And this passion remained in Leonhardt’s core to this very day.

“With my own two hands, I will conquer the Labyrinth…”

Leonhardt had almost tacked on, “If my wish is granted.” He briefly closed his eyes, not knowing what to do with these weak feelings.

“I will make it come true,” he muttered, clenching his fists.

The hazy spring sky was white in all directions, and he couldn’t see what lay ahead.

The only thing he could see clearly was the landscape that appeared close enough to walk on.

But I must not stop.

Leonhardt approved Weishardt’s draft of the battle plan and signed the papers.

“Limit Breaker and Lightning Empress. Thank you for coming. We’re grateful for your support.” Leonhardt shook hands with Haage, the Limit Breaker and Adventurers Guild guildmaster, and Lightning Empress Elsee, also known as Elmera, chairwoman of the Medicinal Herbs Division in the Merchants Guild.

They’d both come in response to the summons of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces.

Including Dick, who’d arrived earlier, the three collaborators gathered in the Labyrinth Suppression Forces’ council room. In the end, they had been unable to devise any other plan than using the strongest A- and S-Rankers in the Labyrinth City.

Leonhardt’s Lion’s Roar had conditions for its activation. It couldn’t strengthen those with the same or higher rank as him. Leonhardt was registered as S Rank, which could be attributed to his Lion’s Roar. Alone, he would have the strength of an A-Rank adventurer.

Their target for this operation was the guardian of the walking volcano, the red dragon. With the nine A-Rankers, Leonhardt would venture into the unfavorable volcanic terrain and fight the flying monster, an S-Rank, with his own unaided strength.

Nierenberg and his medical team were on standby in the safe zone near the stairs. They had all sorts of high-grade potions at their disposal. But if someone were injured, would it be possible for Nierenberg to slip through the red dragon’s attacks to save them?

The chances of success were low, and the odds were even lower that no one would die. Nevertheless, they’d all gathered here.

“I trained those guys at the guild so they could run the place on their own,” Haage said.

“I want a city where my family can have a peaceful life,” added Elmera.

Dick nodded in silence.

“Well then, here’s the intelligence we’ve gathered on the red dragon and the Labyrinth. This is our strategy.”

Weishardt spread out the documents, and the strategy meeting began.

The battle with the red dragon would be the day after tomorrow.

The A-Rankers would spend tomorrow as if it were another ordinary day. On the morning of the battle, they planned to tell their families that they were going to the Labyrinth for their usual work.

They hadn’t been ordered not to reveal their mission.

In a city with a labyrinth, battle was a livelihood. Experiencing the worst-case scenario was a part of life in the Labyrinth City.

Tomorrow, they would prepare for battle with a special appreciation for the lives they had.

The top brass of the guild had grown. Haage felt they’d already graduated. If something were to happen to him… An image of his enraged wife came to his mind, and he smiled.

Elmera pictured her husband and children. She wanted to be with them forever, but more than that, she was resolute in her work as the Lightning Empress to lay the groundwork for a future free from the Labyrinth.

Dick was glad he’d been able to set Amber free. She’d settled in working at Sunlight’s Canopy in no time, and it was possible for her to make a living even by herself. Although he did nothing but stare down at his chest armor, in his mind’s eye was her smile.

With these respective thoughts in their hearts, the warriors returned to what might well be the last day of their precious lives.

08

Can’t sleep.

The Black Iron Freight Corps had returned to the Labyrinth City from their trip to the imperial capital the night before last.

Jay had been with the transport group. He’d had only a little work to do yesterday, which consisted of cleaning the raptors’ pen. Afterward, he’d been given the rest of the day off and gone to sleep. Today, he’d skipped out on his work and napped all day, and after wolfing down his fill of food, he couldn’t fall asleep.

His dinner was full of salt, which made it delicious. But afterward, he was thirsty. Jay crawled out of bed to get some water. He could hear voices coming from a large room in the base, suggesting the members of the Black Iron Freight Corps had gathered there.

“Hey, Captain. If Sieg reaches A Rank, you’ll be his sponsor for his release from slavery, right?”

“Sieg? Oh, him. I don’t mind, but A Rank? I can’t believe someone who was so close to death could make it this far.”

Haage had suggested he would be Sieg’s sponsor, even though no one had asked him. The conversation at the base continued with idle talk of little value—skepticism that the guildmaster wanted to bring Sieg onto Team Haage, or that the Corps would take Sieg somewhere to celebrate after he fulfilled the conditions for A Rank.

None of that really concerned Jay.

Release from slavery? Sieg? Close to dyin’? His mind took the gossip and ran with it.

What? What are they talkin’ about? Sieg? I know that name. It’s that guy. The one missin’ an eye who’s always with that little punk and the girl. The guy with the good weapon. He’s a slave? He almost died?

His thoughts rang inside his head. And then he remembered.

—Now, Siegmund! Submit from your very soul!

The Contract of Servitude ritual that he’d witnessed in the rear yard of Reymond’s slave trading company during a break from taking care of the raptors.

Ah! Ah! Ah! Ooooh! It’s him! That guy! It was him. I thought he croaked. No, I was sure he croaked. He’s the one Reymond bought! To use as an example! He shouldn’t be alive. He was so weak that healin’ magic wouldn’t’ve worked! No one would care if he kicked the bucket! So why, why…? Ah! It’s the alchemist, huh?! The alchemist is in this city! Yeah… Yeah! It’s her! It’s that girl who bought him!!!

Jay wasn’t a particularly clever man. He didn’t possess the logical capacity to fully consider an idea. If he were clever, he probably wouldn’t draw conclusions from putting together fragmentary information that he was only barely familiar with.

But it was precisely because of his stupidity and simplicity that he reached an irrational conclusion: that Mariela was the alchemist.

A conclusion that happened to be the truth.

If that girl had chosen me instead of that dyin’ bastard, his weapon and his lot in life would all be mine…

Jay was consumed by envy, hatred, jealousy.

His resentment knew no end. It was easy for him to direct his anger at another weaker person as the cause of his misfortune.

It’s all… It’s all ’cause that girl didn’t pick me…!!!

The spring sky darkened, and the smell of rain drifted from the clouds hanging heavy over everything.