The Survivors In this world, there was a fish called an oil-eater. It was a fat, misshapen creature that resembled an anglerfish and was about the size of a bucket used to draw water from a well. Oil-eaters were totally unique creatures. They were often mistakenly believed to be monsters, but they did not live in labyrinths, which meant they were animals. According to biologists, they couldn’t technically be classified as fish, and it was hard to call them amphibians, too. They were a hotly debated species in the field of biological classification. Oil-eaters reached adulthood three years after hatching. It was then that they reached a crossroads; depending on the environment they grew up in, they could become saltwater fish, freshwater fish, or grow legs like a frog and live on land. They could even adapt to extreme environments such as the desert or the deep sea, though at the cost of a shorter life. But that metamorphosis was only the second of the oil-eaters’ defining traits. The fishes’ most unique habit was that they, well, ate oil. Not edible ones like rapeseed oil or beef tallow, but oil-based products such as cushioning, packaging materials, and other relics created by the ancient civilization. Oil-eaters ate these items and excreted them, along with digested leaves and micro-organisms from aquatic plants. The oil created by refining their feces was very useful. It was a cheap source for indoor heating, and it was easy to preserve and transport. It also didn’t produce mana while being used, meaning it didn’t interfere with intricate spells or magic items. “Magic Search.” A wick doused in black oil burned brightly within a crude lamp, illuminating the room. The oil released a grilled-fish scent that could not be totally removed in the refinement process. “…Okay. There’s no sign of searching spells or magic items in our vicinity,” a petite blond girl said to the others in the room. Though her words were meant to reassure, there was no emotion in her face. Although she was beautiful and well-dressed, her ever-present stern countenance made her difficult to approach. Her eyes tended to be especially stern when she cast magic. She was aware of that habit but did nothing to fix it; in her opinion, no one had any right to judge her when she was hard at work. Tiana was that kind of mage. “That is a relief. Shall we open the safe?” asked a young man with chestnut hair, who was sitting next to Tiana. He pulled out a key decorated with an ornament. The lamp cast a bewitching light on the key, but it couldn’t rival the captivating, tranquil beauty of the man himself. He wore priestly clothing but lacked the medal that all priests were supposed to wear around their necks. That meant he had been excommunicated. That fact may have been off-putting to some, but it only made him more attractive to the many women he had seduced into a one-night stand. Zem projected an alluring aura, like a magic lamp on a moonless night. “Wait, Zem,” said a red-haired girl sitting next to Zem. She guarded the locked safe with her scaled hands. These people may have been her companions, but she wouldn’t let them touch it until she was ready. “What’s wrong?” Zem asked. “He’s not done with the ledger,” the girl said, flicking her tail to point next to her. That tail was only one trait that set her apart from ordinary humans; she was much taller than the average woman, her arms were covered in scales, and two marvelous horns grew from her head. Karan was a dragonian, a humanoid race with dragon-like traits. Her figure appeared soft and feminine at first glance, but a close look at her physique showed her untiring training. She had a more stoic personality than either Tiana or Zem. “Gimme a sec, Karan. I’m almost done with last month’s ledger,” the young man said. He was writing something in a binder while Karan was pointing at him. “Hurry up,” Karan complained. “I’d been putting this off ’cause of all the work we’ve had to do with the Steppingman mess. I don’t wanna delay this any further.” “But no one else keeps a ledger. I heard most people just rush to a tax consultant at the beginning of the year.” “Yeah, and those people end up flipping over their bed looking for lost receipts, then finishing their paperwork only to realize there are omissions in their bookkeeping. Then they turn in their return at the last second, which pisses off the tax collector. It’s better this way,” the young man argued as his quill pen flew across the page. He had a slender build, but no one would mistake him for being weak. He was a fighter, one even sharper than Karan, and that was apparent in the way he carried himself. His handwriting was surprisingly neat for how quickly he was writing, each straight line and curve drawn exactly right. If handwriting was a reflection of the person, you could say Nick’s demonstrated his honesty and playful heart. “…Done!” Nick said. He wrote the following in his binder. Cashbook. Year 439 of the King’s Calendar. Party: Survivors. Nick used this binder to record all the money that entered and left the Survivors’ funds. The records were proof of their great success as a party. The first page showed modest rewards for fighting monsters in beginner labyrinths such as Gooey Waterworks and Goblin Forest, but the amounts of money they earned only grew from there. Two early entries stood out. Idle Moon, 13th day. Labyrinth of Bonds. Reward for exploration and for excavating the Sword of Bonds: 500,000 dina. Gloomy Moon, 25th day. Reward for arresting the Iron Tiger Troop: 300,000 dina. But those were dwarfed by the entry Nick had just added. “Rainy Moon, twenty-ninth day. Reward for subjugating the Steppingman: one million dina. Reward for helping to rescue the abducted children: two million dina… That is quite the haul,” a small boy said after grabbing the ledger. He had silver hair and an androgynous appearance. His face resembled Nick’s, but cuter and friendlier. “We deserve it, too! Help us out here, Bond. I want to see if the money matches his records,” Tiana urged. The boy shrugged. “Dear me, you all are so untrusting. Let’s see… Yes, exactly three hundred,” he said after making a circle with his fingers and glancing at the gold coins on the table. That was all the time he needed to count them. “No silver or copper coins slipped in by mistake?” “My visual processors tell me they are all gold coins. I also picked them up and confirmed their weight. Everything’s perfect!” The boy—whose name was Bond—had used a special ability called Search to inspect the coins, which was not magic that normal people could use. The ability heightened his audiovisual senses so he could pick up volumes and audio frequencies that humans couldn’t detect; he could also see distant objects as if they were close to him. But that was only a secondary ability of his. It was also not immediately clear whether “he” was even the right way to refer to him—he was both cutely feminine and coolly masculine. In truth, he didn’t have a gender, and he wasn’t even human. “Can you all refrain from using me only as a tool for your convenience? You should use my primary function more often,” Bond complained. “You’ve got a point, actually. We wouldn’t have survived that last fight without you,” Nick agreed. “Oh? Have you finally seen the light, Nick? I am the holy sword called the Sword of Bonds, not a smart meter or a security item. Don’t you forget that,” Bond announced proudly. Bond was the final member of the Survivors. He was currently using a body he created based on his wielder Nick’s, but his true form was a holy sword created with the advanced technology of the ancient civilization. “Speaking of things we can’t forget, let’s divvy up the reward,” Nick said. The other Survivors’ faces lit up. The party had just received their reward for the biggest job of their careers—defeating the Steppingman, a mysterious kidnapper who was abducting children in Teran, the Labyrinth City. “Hmm-hmm-hmm… I didn’t know how I was going to afford special spectator seating for the Dragon God Cup!” Tiana cheered. “A northern-style barbecue restaurant opened recently. They’re serving a limited amount of luxurious duck-winged deer meat that’s normally only eaten by royal families, and people are bidding over the reserved seating… I can’t pass up this chance,” Karan said. “I booked a hotel in a harbor town for a weeklong vacation with a hostess. Please refrain from taking on any jobs during that time,” Zem requested. “I have plans as well. I want to buy the new issue of Sixth Shining—it’s about a person with supernatural abilities who fights evil spirits,” Bond added. They all seemed ecstatic as they thought about what they wanted to do with their time off—except for Nick. Each member of the Survivors had a slightly embarrassing hobby. Tiana was a gambler who was especially obsessed with dragon racing. Karan was a gourmet who enjoyed sampling food from stalls opened in public parks, although lately she had started enjoying luxurious restaurants with a dress code. Zem’s hobby was the most problematic of all—he was a womanizer who frequented the red-light district and inspired many rumors in the business districts of Labyrinth City. Nick also had such a hobby, but unlike the others, he kept his cool. “I wanna buy a ticket to the Jewelry Production One Hundredth Anniversary Concert. Actually, I’m gonna go do that right after this… But first we have some expenses to cover, starting with three hundred thousand dina for Anemone Alehouse as an apology and to pay for our meals,” he said, transferring thirty of the gold coins into a pouch. Anemone Alehouse was a bar whose assistant manager allowed the Survivors to use it as a base. They would strategize and sleep there as they hunted for their bounty. The other Survivors watched the gold go with resigned disappointment. “Next is the money to repair our weapons and equipment. We’ll need two hundred thousand dina total for the five of us.” The others were again disappointed but understanding as Nick placed those gold coins into a different bag. “Lastly… We broke the roof of a nearby building during our fight. We’ll need one hundred thousand dina for the repair costs.” “Huh? What are you talking about?!” Tiana asked accusingly. “I can’t blame you for reacting that way,” Nick said, remaining calm. “It caught me off guard when I heard about it, too. You know how the factory exploded after that fight? Some fragments of broken washing tubs went flying and fell through the roof of another factory. The president of that place was pissed.” The other Survivors looked like they’d been punched in the gut. “But that damage occurred in the course of an Adventurers Guild job! Shouldn’t they be compensating us?!” Tiana implored. “They would’ve if we’d caught White Mask. He got away, so they can’t compensate us.” Nick sighed, sounding exhausted. The feeling spread to the others. “So much for special seating…,” Tiana muttered. “There goes my barbecue…,” Karan lamented. “My romantic adventure at the harbor town remains a dream…,” Zem said wistfully. Karan and Zem regretfully watched the gold coins go into the bag. Only half of their reward remained. “Hey, that’s not so bad. There is still plenty left. Are we splitting this five ways?” Bond asked, attempting to soothe the group. “No, six ways,” Nick corrected. The rest looked at him with confusion, but then comprehension dawned on their faces. “She gave us a lotta help. It sucks, but she deserves her share. Is there anything else we need to discuss?” The others responded that there wasn’t. Nick smiled and stood. “All right, guys! The Survivors are on holiday, starting now! Go and make the best of it!” “““You got it!””” the others responded. And so, having had their fill of adventures for now, the Survivors split up for a much-needed rest. Work days started late at the publishing company called Mysterious Teran. That was a necessity, as night was the best time for its reporters to pursue the suspicious rumors on which they based their articles. They could interview adventurers who were off the clock and nightlife workers who were on the clock; they could even witness article-worthy cases directly. The reporters typically finished working around midnight and woke up the next day, when most people were finishing lunch. As such, it was nearly evening when Nick and Bond met with their acquaintance to offer her share of the reward to her. “Are you sure about this? I was kinda undercover, so I’m not sure I should accept this money,” she said, giggling to herself as she inspected the bag full of gold coins. Nick and Bond were in a reception room on the third floor of Mysterious Teran with a bespectacled girl who wore an old coat despite being indoors. Her name was Olivia. The building was just as empty as the last time they’d visited; it seemed Olivia was the only one sitting around with no work to do. “We’ll gladly keep it if you don’t want it. I don’t envy life as a volunteer. You have my nonfinancial support,” Nick responded sarcastically. “On second thought, I’ll take it. Thank you very much. I’ll be writing a receipt.” Olivia snatched up the bag with impossible speed just as Nick tried to put it away. “Then you should’ve just taken it instead of beating around the bush,” Nick complained. He didn’t like that he wasn’t able to follow her movements with his eyes. It wasn’t just Olivia’s speed that was impressive; she was able to read his body’s movement to tell that he was going to lower his arm before he began to do it. That was a special skill that could only be obtained with serious training; as a practitioner of martial arts, Nick was well aware of that. “Anyway…you smell terrible.” “Hey! Rude! It’s not my fault! I went through the underground tunnels earlier in pursuit of a case!” Olivia fumed, before taking a sniff of her coat and grimacing. “The underground tunnels?” Nick said. “There’s nothing down there but sewage.” There was a whole subterranean network beneath Labyrinth City. They mainly existed as maintenance passageways for the sewers and as escape routes for aristocrats. Many people saw the tunnels as mysterious in some way, but they were completely ordinary. The Order of the Sun Knights and the Organization for Labyrinth City Development cooperated to make a detailed map of the tunnels, and they were regularly patrolled. Security was actually tighter underground than above it. “I’ve been wondering about them lately, though. I want to figure out how White Mask got around the city, so I’m checking places that I initially excluded,” Olivia said. “Oh, you were actually doing serious work,” Nick responded. “Well, I was looking for material at the same time. Sneaking around underground to avoid detection was a thrilling experience.” “I would tell you to take better care of yourself at work, but you’re not human, so I guess it doesn’t really matter.” “Hey, I find that phrasing offensive.” What Nick said was true—Olivia wasn’t human. “Yeah! Intelligent magic items have rights! They should be respected in the workplace!” Bond proclaimed. “Why are you getting angry?” Nick asked. “Because we’re the same. Sort of.” Olivia’s true identity was the Sword of Might, a holy sword developed by the ancient civilization, just like Bond. Nick had a hard time seeing her as such a legendary being, but she had saved the Survivors with her incredible fighting ability when they were in grave danger against White Mask. “That ‘sort of’ was uncalled for. Is that any way to speak to me after I helped you?” Olivia whined. “I say that only because you may no longer be a holy sword… You’ve mutated, haven’t you?” Bond asked. Olivia smiled. “So you figured that out.” “Your name is proof enough. It has nothing to do with your origin. Your name would have to be something like ‘Valerie’ for valor or ‘Powpow’ for power to prevent mutation.” “‘Powpow’? Really? That doesn’t suit my elegant image.” “Huh? Why’re we talking about her name?” Nick interjected. “Remember when Tiana said you shouldn’t change the name of an advanced magic item too drastically?” Bond asked. Nick thought for a moment and nodded. “Yeah, I do. She said if you name a holy sword ‘Mop’ it’ll gain cleaning properties.” “Your name is different from your production name, which means that you must have mutated. What happened to you?” Bond inquired. Olivia laughed awkwardly and scratched her cheek. “It’s kind of a long story… I guess it boils down to falling in love and going to war.” “Man, sounds like you could write a book,” Nick said, eliciting a laugh from Olivia. “Does it really matter if you’ve mutated, though? It’s not like you turned into a mop.” “Well, I don’t like to admit it, but there are some issues,” Olivia replied. “For starters, advanced magic items like us have design specifications sealed deep within our core. As long as we have that, we can regenerate from any injury, even something as drastic as a smashed head or a severed blade. You wouldn’t be wrong to call us immortal. Unfortunately, we lose our design specifications when we mutate.” “Really…?” Nick said. “That is only an aftereffect of the mutation, not the mutation itself,” Bond interrupted, clearing his throat. “Losing your immortality is trivial compared with the risk of your mission being distorted. Worst case, a holy sword could turn on the human civilization that created it. Then it’s no better than a monster.” “Like when the Sword of Evolution became the Sword of Ruin?” Nick asked. “No. He didn’t abandon his mission, he simply twisted it to find logic that allowed him to attack mankind. I imagine Olivia has mutated much more significantly,” Bond answered. “So the Sword of Evolution went astray? What a shame…,” Olivia said. “You sound like you just found out a friend’s child dropped out of school…,” Nick interjected. “Where is the Sword of Evolution now?” Olivia asked. “Sealed in an undisclosed location. We gave him some books and other things to entertain himself with. Stuff like adventure novels and audiovisual data from idol concerts,” Nick responded. “I have major questions about those choices, but I’d rather not get involved. The less people know where he is, the better. He’s not as dangerous as the Sword of Distortion anyway.” “The Sword of Distortion?” Nick echoed. The distaste on Bond’s face suggested that he knew the name. “Surely she’s not still active.” “The Teran Distortion Agency, which housed her main body, was totally destroyed. Their headquarters has been a vacant lot for centuries, and now a concert hall is being built there. I think it’s going to be called Starmine Hall,” Olivia responded. “Oh, I know that place. Jewelry Production is going to perform the Hundredth Anniversary Concert there,” Nick said. “You’re really obsessed with idols, Nick,” Olivia commented, and Nick snapped at her. “Shut up.” Bond looked conflicted. “I—I see… She was something of a headache, but I do miss her,” he said. “Care to tell me who you’re talking about? Their name sounds pretty messed up,” Nick asked, confused. “Oh, have you never heard of her? I thought the name Teran Distortion Agency was remembered in history,” Olivia said. “I’m not from around here,” Nick explained. “Fair enough. Allow me to elucidate. Ahem! Once upon a time in a land not so far away—” “Cut the theatrics, please.” Despite Nick’s interruption, Olivia continued speaking. “The Teran Distortion Agency was an organization founded to warp and purify the calls of the demon god, and to chant a city-class ritual spell called ‘Distort’ to weaken the demon god. The Sword of Destruction was the name of the holy sword who cast the spell. She also went by the name of Hizumi.” Olivia’s voice was uncharacteristically serious when she said that name. It was obvious she had mixed feelings about this holy sword. Nick thought her organization sounded completely beneficial to society, however. “Her name is kinda terrifying, but it sounds like she did good,” Nick said. “Her actions certainly did help everyone in the end. She contributed greatly to the sealing of the demon god,” Bond interjected. “Her achievements are undeniable, but her methods were more than a little problematic,” Olivia added. Nick gulped upon seeing their bitter expressions. “In what way?” “Hizumi petitioned the king to gather young people with ample mana and send them to Teran. She then locked them all in isolated cells where they could hear nothing but the evil voice of the demon god and her own soothing voice,” Olivia answered. Nick pictured one of those cells and began to sweat. “Hold on. Why’d she lock them up like they were criminals? And whaddaya mean by ‘the demon god’s voice’?” “The demon god speaks telepathically. The sound sends humans into a state of panic, strengthens monsters, and spreads miasma. They do this through a technique called Mantra,” Olivia explained. “Huh…” “The demon god’s Mantra has terrible power. It’s capable of turning an entire small village into a labyrinth. Barriers were erected to ward off Mantras during the war, but Hizumi intentionally opened a hole in the barrier to let the voices in and strike fear into the hearts of the young people she trapped,” Olivia continued. “…And then the Sword of Distortion healed them. She gave them both the carrot and the stick,” Nick said. “That’s exactly right,” Olivia said quietly. “The young people came to hate the demon god from the bottoms of their hearts and devoutly worship Hizumi.” “Hizumi’s worshippers became one with her power and gained the ability to invert and distort the demon god’s thoughts, which they could use to attack not just monsters but the labyrinths themselves. This turned the war in humanity’s favor. This only evened the odds between the demon god and humanity, but without her, humanity would certainly have lost,” Bond explained. “So she was pivotal to humanity’s victory, but she went too far with her methods… Hold on,” Nick said, realizing that there was something off about the story. “Hmm? What is it?” Bond asked. “Didn’t you say that holy swords have a code of ethics that prevents them from gambling and getting into trouble?” Nick asked. “Hizumi was very good at avoiding its activation. She would guide people to make certain decisions instead of her and craft budgets so that things would work out exactly as she wanted,” Bond answered. “She never harmed anyone directly, but that didn’t make her any less problematic,” Olivia added. They both nodded knowingly. Nick could tell their feelings toward the Sword of Distortion were complicated. He chose to keep quiet and listen. “She was a good leader, but she had a difficult personality and a very particular taste in people,” Olivia said. “She was no leader. She just liked to boss everyone around. She indulged in every luxury and used her position to make her collection of beautiful boys and girls serve and polish her,” Bond argued. “I remember she had bodyguards to protect her sword body.” “Yes, she did. But she immediately fired anyone who displeased her. She would command them to go back to the country even as they cried and begged to stay by her side!” “I saw her do that a few times, too!” “Sounds like she was pretty abusive. Was she mutated?” Nick asked. Neither of them answered. “Don’t leave me hanging.” “…That was just her nature. It is possible for a holy sword to have a twisted personality before any mutation occurs,” Bond answered. “Huh. What about you, Olivia?” Nick asked. “Whuh? Me?” “I’m asking how much you’ve mutated. That’s where this whole conversation started, remember?” Olivia laughed awkwardly and shrugged. “Don’t worry about me. I haven’t changed too much. I’ve simply changed my interpretation of my mission.” Nick looked at Olivia dubiously. “What exactly is your mission? You said you were a training tool, or something like that.” “That’s right. I was made to train people who stood up to face the threat of the demon god. I’m the Sword of Might, a Spirit-Class Anti-Demon Combat Training Program. Though I call myself Olivia now,” she said. “Oh yeah, you mentioned that.” “But I eventually decided that my apprentices don’t need to fight the demon god. I now simply hope that I can increase the number of able fighters in the event that humanity faces a crisis.” “Wha…? It sounds like you have almost totally abandoned your mission!” Bond was aghast. Olivia shrugged her shoulders indifferently. “Does it really matter? The idea that a human could defeat the demon god with a little exercise was stupid in the first place. I’m sure we could come up with plenty of more plans that are more appropriate and humane.” “Don’t treat Stepping like it’s a simple exercise plan… I see your point, though. It’s not like it’s a weapon that’s gonna turn the tides of a war,” Nick said. “So you decided that humans are not physically capable of defeating the demon god… I suppose you cannot be blamed for that,” Bond relented. “Oh, no, I can say with confidence that a human could physically defeat the demon god,” Olivia responded, eliciting surprised reactions from Nick and Bond. “It would be possible if I found a person with innate talent, taught them everything I know, and helped them overcome the boundary between life and death. I once had ambitions of creating such a perfect warrior, but…” Olivia sighed painfully. “Anyone that superhuman would have no need for me. They’d figure out how to grow strong on their own and decide for themselves if they wanted to fight the demon god. An apprentice like that would make me lose confidence as a trainer,” she continued. “You think it wouldn’t be rewarding for you,” Nick observed. “I prefer raising young apprentices who need me. I like helping them discover talents they didn’t know they had and gradually opening up new possibilities for them. Eventually they learn enough to become a teacher themselves and pass on their knowledge. Such are the ups and downs in the life of a trainer,” Olivia said, breaking into her usual broad smile. “I hope Hizumi can find something to make her happy, too.” “Yes, me too,” Bond agreed earnestly. “Do you feel more at home as a magazine reporter than as a trainer, though?” Nick asked. “There are a lot of complications that come with running a dojo. I prefer having less responsibility,” Olivia responded. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. The demon god is sealed, right? Or dead? You should enjoy your life the way you want.” “Huh? What are you saying?” Olivia asked, looking at Nick with surprise. Nick stared back, thrown off by her reaction. “I was just trying to be nice…” “No, not that. They’re not dead, you know?” “Who’s not dead?” “The demon god. Not only are they alive, their reawakening at the hands of their worshippers could be approaching.” Nick’s jaw dropped. Olivia and Bond rolled their eyes at him. “Hey, don’t do that. How do you expect me to react?!” Nick complained. “Who do you think we just fought, Nick? White Mask is a demon-god worshipper. There’s no way his kind would operate so openly if humanity had destroyed the demon god entirely,” Olivia said. “Exactly. You must not act like the demon god threat does not exist. If we truly were at peace, I would have no need to pass down my knowledge of heroes and holy sword wielders,” Bond added. Nick rubbed his temples. “Tell me you’re joking… We’re done for if another guy like White Mask comes for us.” “Don’t worry about that,” said Olivia. I think they’ll be out of action for a while.” “How could I possibly not worry? White Mask’s armor was destroyed, but he got away,” Nick argued. “I’m sure whoever was inside the armor was greatly weakened. The demon-god worshippers also won’t be able to use White Mask’s weapons and spells without that holy armor,” Olivia said. “Huh? Why not?” Nick asked. Bond answered that question. “Holy armor was developed so people could explore legendary labyrinths such as the Great Red Spot and the Monster Belt. These locations can have temperatures in the thousands of degrees or at absolute zero due to no air at all. Survival in such locations is impossible without impenetrable defense and special abilities.” “Special abilities? I get how holy armor would help people endure those harsh environments, but gear can’t give someone abilities they don’t already have,” Nick said. Bond shook his head. “Actually, holy armor awards the abilities of its past wearers to whoever equips it. For example, equipping a set of holy armor that was once worn by a dragonian, a mage, a light warrior, and a priest would enable you to use all their abilities.” “Seriously?!” “The holy armor practically transcribes the souls of its past wearers, giving whoever equips it access to their knowledge and memories. It can use that information to perform advanced calculations and determine what its past wearers would do or say if they were present. It is as if the holy armor itself houses their entire personalities.” “That’s amazing,” Nick said with a shudder. “Destroying holy armor means burying the mighty abilities within it for good. That’s a huge blow to the demon-god worshippers,” Olivia said. “That’s correct. Defeating someone who misuses holy armor is a great accomplishment,” Bond added. “You’ve got that right!” Olivia agreed. The two holy swords laughed innocently, but that did nothing to dispel Nick’s discomfort. “…You said holy armor has personality. Does that mean the White Mask we fought and spoke to could have had nothing to do with whoever was inside the armor? Could everything they said have come from the false personality?” he asked. “Yes. It’s very likely that the wearer used the holy armor partially to keep their identity hidden,” Olivia responded. “So they got away without leaving a single clue about who they are. If they were smart enough to take that precaution, I’m sure they’re already thinking of their next plan,” Nick said. “Hmm, you have a point. We’ll have to prepare ourselves for that threat,” she said, and something seemed to shift in the room. Nick sensed danger and instinctively grabbed the dagger at his hip. Olivia whipped her left arm at him like a snake, and he drew the dagger to swing it and ward her off. “Not bad. There aren’t many people with the reflexes to react to me at this distance.” Olivia caught the blade in her fingers. With almost magnetic force, she had stopped not only his blade but his entire wrist and arm. Before Nick knew it, he was outside, a fierce pain ravaging his back, his lungs empty, his brain foggy. It was then that he realized Olivia had thrown him backward through the window and that he was falling to the ground. “Light Body!” Nick used a spell to lessen his weight, then twisted to kick the gutters and streetlights to slow himself as he fell. By the time he landed, there was almost no impact. He climbed to his feet and glared up at the third floor, but he saw only the broken window he’d crashed through. Olivia wasn’t there. “What took you so long?” Olivia was already standing right next to Nick. She gently put a hand to his chest. “Gah?!” Nick yelled as a violent shock ran through his body, sending him flying backward. He crashed into a building across the street from Mysterious Teran and glared daggers at Olivia. She returned his look with a satisfied smile. “Once you can do what I just did, you’ll be able to fight White Mask in hand-to-hand combat. Don’t neglect your training,” she said. “Damn you…!” Nick cursed. “Anyway, I’m going on an extended trip! Let’s find the identity of the man—or woman—inside White Mask’s armor!” Olivia declared before jumping up a wall step-by-step. She accelerated and quickly left Nick’s sight. After much pestering from Bond, Nick brought the holy sword to a secondhand bookshop on the way home. “Man, that was embarrassing,” Nick muttered. “Olivia is a holy sword. There is no shame in her getting the best of you… Oooh, there’s a special issue of Lemuria Monthly. I’ll give it a read,” Bond said excitedly. “You can look at any page once and store it in your memory. Why not just read it here and put it back?” “That would be stealing, you fool. I buy all the magazines I read.” Bond was a bibliomaniac and had built up quite the collection of books since joining the party. He read anything from newspapers and dry scholarly papers to fun works like novels and old comic novellas. Nick had thought his occult phase was coming to an end, but Bond flipped through the pages with a furious speed he had never seen. “I thought you were getting tired of that stuff,” Nick said. “I’ve just been curious about something. Why do you think she’s publishing magazines like these?” Bond asked. “’Cause she enjoys it?” “I believe that is part of it, but I find it strange that she chose to work at an occult publishing company despite all the knowledge she possesses. She is her own news source. There is no way she bases all her articles on groundless rumors. She wrote a special feature on White Mask, after all.” “You’re saying her articles are actually credible?” “That is what I want to ascertain.” “Why would she go out of her way to publish her stories in a dubious magazine that just screams ‘every word of this is a lie’? The only people who will take it seriously are occult fanatics and us… Ah.” Comprehension dawned on Nick’s face. “She does it to avoid drawing too much attention to her writing.” “She slips some truth into all the false information. There is likely some way of determining which articles are true.” “That would catapult the value of this magazine for anyone who realized that.” “What should we do, Nick? I want to investigate, but withdrawing from all of this might be a good idea, too,” Bond asked, looking up from the magazine to meet Nick’s eyes. “No… We’ve already fought a demon-god worshipper. Trying to back out at this point might actually put us in more danger,” Nick replied. A chill ran down his spine as he said that. It was becoming clear just how much darkness lurked in Labyrinth City, unbeknownst to its citizens. He had always had a vague notion that the city contained such dangerous presences, but he never imagined he would find himself fighting one himself. “Nick, hold out your hand,” Bond requested. “Why?” Nick asked, doing as he was told. “Blargh.” Bond spit up a beautiful jewel into Nick’s hand. “What the hell?! That’s disgusting! I don’t want your half-eaten candy!” Nick shouted. “It’s not candy! This is a knowledge orb. The data from all the magazines I’ve read is stored on it. Fill it with mana, and you can read them, too.” “That sounds useful. Just warn me next time you’re about to hack one up and spit it at me.” “I am not too skilled at this type of investigation. Study it when you have time.” “I doubt I’m much better than you… Well, I do know someone who’s good at literary study. I’ll ask them.” A voice echoed in Nick’s head after he said that. “Nick! Help me!” “Karan?!” It was his teammate. “Karan reached out to us using Telepathy… She sounded quite desperate,” Bond said. “I’ve never heard her sound so helpless…,” Nick said. Bond gulped, and a deep sense of worry quickly overtook Nick’s mind. “Let’s go!” he said. Nick and Bond ran toward Karan. Fortunately, she wasn’t far; she was outside a café near the Mysterious Teran office. “Hey, Nick! Please help me!” Karan pleaded. “I’m coming, I’m coming!” Nick called back. Karan looked exhausted, and the reason was apparent. She was holding and trying to comfort a toddler who would not stop crying. “Ah… Karan. When did you become a mom?” Nick asked. “He’s not my child!” she shouted angrily, and the toddler started screaming. “Oh, s-sorry! There, there… Everything’s okay!” Karan said, trying to soothe the little boy, but he showed no signs of calming down. “Bond. Are you installed with any babysitting experience?” Nick asked. “I am not,” Bond responded. “Yeah, that was a long shot,” Nick said. “Don’t just stand there. Help me already…,” Karan whined. She sounded so exhausted, Nick actually began to worry for her. “Sorry. Here, hand him to me so you can rest,” he said. “Okay.” “Man, this kid’s got some serious lungs on him… Whose is he? He looks dragonian…” Karan opened her mouth to explain, but she was interrupted when the café door rattled open. “Karan, I didn’t know where you’d gone! Don’t scare me like that! And Ares, stop crying!” a beautiful blue-haired woman complained as soon as she walked outside. “You went to the bathroom! What was I supposed to do?!” Karan retorted. “He’s so shy. I swear, the waterworks are never far with this one,” the woman said with a shrug before she took the boy from Karan and cradled him. She seemed like his mother. “…Hmm? Who are you two?” The woman studied Nick and Bond. Nick wanted to ask the same question about her. Karan answered them both. “This is Nick, my party leader, and Bond, another member of my party. Nick, this is my older sister… Well, I call her that, but she’s actually my cousin.” The café was called Knocker Donuts. It was located on the western side of Labyrinth City and primarily served coffee and donuts. Its namesake was a legendary fairy called a “knocker” that would show miners where good ore veins were. There were no mines nearby, however; instead, the area was a lively scene for the performing arts, with many parks where plays and outdoor concerts could be held, which resulted in an abundance of customers, performers, and staff. People came to Knocker Donuts to relax with a dark-roast coffee and mine for inspiration. “So you’re the leader of the Survivors. I’ve heard so much about you all. I’m Daffodil, Karan’s cousin. This is my son, Ares,” Daffodil said after sitting across from Nick at the table. She looked at him appraisingly. Nick observed her closely as well. She had horns like Karan. She resembled her cousin, with the most obvious differences being her scales and hair. They were both a shiny blue, and her long hair was slightly wavy and tied in a braid. “Daffy lived with me in my home village. I hadn’t seen her since she left the village, though. I thought she was dead,” Karan said. “Why would you think that?!” Daffodil exclaimed. “You left ten years ago with your head in the clouds because you wanted to become a professional dancer.” “I did become a professional dancer! I work as a trainer now, too! And you’re not one to talk about having your head in the clouds!” “At least I act like a dragonian!” Karan looked at Daffodil with accusatory eyes, which only angered her cousin. “Do you have any idea how worried I was about you? Why don’t you rely on me?” Daffodil asked. “I had no idea where you were. How could I have? You kept moving. All our letters to you came back because we didn’t know your address. The postal charges added up, and even Gramps started to worry that you were dead,” Karan said. “Th-that’s not my fault. I was busy… And raising a child is really hard… Have you reached out to Gramps and Dad since you got here?” “Well…” Daffodil and Karan both fell silent. Bond turned to Nick and whispered, “Family, am I right?” Nick wanted to smile, but it didn’t show on his face. “Excuse me, can I please order?” Nick called to a server. “I’d like a coffee and donut set—classic chocolate for the donuts and black coffee. Another snack would be nice, too…” “How about mini sesame balls?” Bond suggested. “You got it…,” the waiter mumbled lazily, then walked away. “I didn’t call you here to relax, Nick!” Karan said. “You scared me, Karan. You interrupted some serious research.” Karan sensed that he was a little ticked off and stopped arguing. “Urgh, sorry…” “Oh, I’m sorry about that, too… I’m glad you’re here, though,” Daffodil said. “You are?” “I’ve been wanting to speak to you. I’ve heard so much about you all around the Adventurers Guilds.” Daffodil’s comment put Nick on guard. There was nothing shady about the Survivors. But they did all engage in…questionable hobbies. There was nothing immoral about Karan’s gourmet habits or Bond’s bibliomania, but the other three were another story. Nick was worried that Karan’s cousin would think her friends were a bad influence. “Thank you so much for saving my cousin,” Daffodil said politely, to Nick’s surprise. He hurriedly shook his head. “We all help each other. That’s what an adventurers’ party does. I don’t deserve any thanks.” “I don’t believe that for a second,” said Daffodil. “Karan’s always been so gullible.” “Stop it, Daffy!” Karan shouted. “I’m just speaking the truth… To be fair, though, all of us rural folk end up getting tricked when we come here,” Daffodil said with a sigh. “Did you have some trouble, too?” Nick asked hesitantly. Daffodil shrugged and nodded. “That’s an understatement. But Karan and I were both lucky to meet people who were willing to teach us about the world. What was it you said you did, Karan? Abacus boxing?” “Bare-knuckle math,” Karan corrected her moodily, and Daffodil giggled. “She’s always been capable. She just didn’t have the opportunity,” Nick argued. “She had every opportunity. She would always run away from her parents to go play when it was time to learn,” Daffodil said. “Daffy!” Karan shouted. “Girls like her often dream of moving to a city, and then they get scammed and can’t read job postings and get tripped up by the silliest things. There aren’t even schools in the countryside, hard as that might be for you to believe,” Daffodil said. “I’m not from here, either, actually,” Nick replied. “I learned to read and write and do math ’cause my parents were merchants.” “Really? That’s interesting. It’s uncommon for people like you to become adventurers,” Daffodil observed. “You’re right about that.” “Is that true?” Karan asked. “Why did you become an adventurer?” Bond asked. They appeared even more surprised than Daffodil. “Karan. Why do you think an adventurer would choose to study or act like a merchant?” Nick posed. “Um, to win duels?” Karan guessed. “I’m not talking about bare-knuckle math. The answer is simple—so they can eventually quit working as an adventurer.” Karan seemed troubled. “…Oh. I’ve seen some adventurers quit, both by choice and not.” “People who want to work as an adventurer their whole life don’t study at all. There are plenty of adventurers who are strong enough to be hired by nobles, but are illiterate and clueless about etiquette. Those are poor traits to have, but people overlook it because it’s expected of adventurers,” Nick said. He hadn’t answered their questions. “You seem like you could handle a lot of different jobs. Have you ever thought about quitting the adventuring life?” Daffodil asked. “Hmm… I did work a part-time job at a trading company once because a party member got hurt and we couldn’t take on jobs,” Nick answered with a bitter expression. “All I did was manage warehouse stock, help unload carriages, and write receipts. I was pretty good at it, but…I couldn’t settle in.” “Why not?” “I worked with a lot of newly hired employees who told me to do some physical labor and miscellaneous tasks along with the part-timers. They were all from Labyrinth City, the same age, and had just graduated school.” “That’s pretty common. Schools will hold their graduations at the same time, so a lot of young people get hired together.” “They all asked me where I graduated from, and they were shocked when I told them I never went to school and that I worked as an adventurer. They never put me down for it; they actually seemed to think it was cool. It’s just… I always wanted to tell them something.” “Tell them what?” “That going to school and graduating made them much more impressive than me. It’s like the difference between walking down paved roads and cutting your way through rough, overgrown animal trails. Anyone would rather spend life doing the former.” “Nick…,” Karan said worriedly, but Nick laughed it off. “Oh, don’t get the wrong idea. They were all good people. I just found myself feeling inferior,” he said. “There are a lot of good people in this city. After living here for a while, I actually became more scared of other outsiders like me. Many of them adapt to the city in all the wrong ways and try to trick people who came from the same place as them,” Daffodil said. “Cafés like this are a common spot for scammers to target people who look like they came from the countryside. They’ll pretend to be friendly while sitting around their victim so they can’t escape.” “Yeah, seeing those people makes me want to punch a hole through their stomachs!” “Okay, you two, this tangent’s gone on long enough,” Karan chided. “Ah, my bad,” Nick responded. “Oh, sorry about that,” Daffodil apologized. She cleared her throat, uncomfortable under the weight of Karan’s glare. Nick took a second to collect himself. “Anyway, I just couldn’t settle in there. The Adventurers Guild suits me better. There are a lotta jackasses, but there are good people, too. Adventurers have definitely earned their dicey reputation, but I want to think they’re not all bad.” “Is that why you told Karan not to judge people just because they’re an adventurer or an outsider?” Daffodil asked, and Karan looked at Nick with surprise. “We’ve been through a lot, okay?” Nick snapped, looking away. “I don’t mind continuing to tell my life story, but what do you think? Have I earned your approval yet?” “Your leader has trust issues, Karan,” Daffodil said, amused. “Yeah. That’s exactly why I’m able to live without worry,” Karan responded proudly. Daffodil’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I need to ask you something… Where’s the dragon king gem?” Karan visibly jumped in response. “I—I, uh…don’t have it with me right now,” she stammered. Nick glanced at her awkwardly. The dragon king gem was a treasured possession of hers that was stolen by Callios, the leader of her first adventurers’ party. It was a large ruby that Karan’s father, who was the chief of the fire dragonians, spent a year filling with mana. It was very valuable and would fetch a high price on the market. It was also a source of gossip that spread when Karan returned alone from the labyrinth where her party had abandoned her. “I know a man tricked you and stole it, you dummy! I want to make sure you’re not thinking of trying to get it back!” Daffodil chastised. “You’re not mad it was stolen?” Karan asked, baffled. Daffodil sighed deeply. “Haah… You don’t get it at all. Criminals who steal relics and magic items are dangerous. I’ve heard rumors of terrorists and demon-god worshippers. You’re lucky you weren’t killed by a professional thief.” Nick knew she had a point. He might have even agreed if Karan were a total stranger. But when he thought of the pain she had suffered and the road she’d taken to recovery, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. “Hey, Nick,” Karan said quietly, drawing Nick out of his thoughts. “What is it?” he asked. “I think Callios fled somewhere he won’t be found. He’s still on the loose.” “Yeah… Probably.” “That means I’m better off than him. I don’t have to live in fear of the Sun Knights. I can go to restaurants and donut cafés and eat delicious food. I’m free to do what I want.” The dwarf waiter reappeared just as Karan finished speaking and set a tray of colorful donuts and sesame balls on the table. A child’s doll was included as a freebie. “Here, Ares. Try this,” Karan said, offering him a donut. “Okay,” Ares responded. “You’re supposed to say ‘thank you.’ Dragonians say that and put their hands together before they eat,” Karan instructed. “Thank you,” Ares said. He timidly bit into the donut. He must have liked the flavor, because he quickly took a second and third bite. “And this is what you do when you see a relative for the first time in a while,” Karan said, rubbing the boy on the head. Ares squirmed ticklishly, but he accepted her hand. “But I hate the idea of never getting back something that was stolen from me. I don’t think forgetting about it and moving on is the right thing to do… Is it wrong to feel that way?” Karan continued, speaking her mind. Fury twisted Daffodil’s face. “Have you not been listening?! I’m not here to have a philosophical debate about life and what’s worth doing! I’m telling you those people are dangerous and you shouldn’t go after them! Got it?” “No, I don’t.” Karan crossed her arms and looked right at her cousin. “Not fighting back against dangerous people might be the right thing to do for most. But I’m an adventurer who makes a living by killing monsters and catching wanted criminals. It’s my job to do the right thing, whether it makes sense or not. Any adventurer too afraid to fight someone who pulls a knife on them is an idiot. I’d rather shove my face into a box of donuts and die.” Daffodil’s glare turned even more intense. “Are you following the dragonian mission? Do you want to find a hero and save the world?” “There’s a dragonian mission?” Nick asked, surprised. Karan blushed slightly. “Yes… Dragonians have a mission to serve a hero and save the world. That’s why a lot of us leave home to become knights or adventurers.” “That’s the first I’ve heard of it,” Nick said. “Well… It’s embarrassing to tell people that I’m ‘searching for my hero,’” Karan responded shyly. Nick was confused and didn’t notice the way Karan’s eyes flicked to him. “Is it? Bond’s always pestering me to become a hero.” “Are you implying that it’s embarrassing for me to say that?!” Bond protested indignantly. “You’re different, Bond. You’re just telling him to think and act like a hero,” Karan said with a self-deprecating tone. “Yeah, I suppose,” Bond replied. “I, on the other hand, used to think there would be a hero somewhere in the world who would rise up and save everyone. But the adventurers and knights in Labyrinth City… None of them are very heroic,” Karan continued. “You have that right,” Bond agreed. “There are so many adventurers who drink away their rewards as soon as they’re paid, or reek because they never bathe. Others will trick their companions and steal precious treasures from them. We even met an adventurer who cheated at gambling and a respected doctor who kidnapped children on the side. There are no heroes in this world.” “Karan…,” Nick said. She was trying to poke fun at the painful experiences she’d been through, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. “Nick has taken down some wicked adventurers, but idols are all he thinks about. The rest of us are obsessed with our hobbies, too. We’re all too self-absorbed to be heroes,” Karan said with a chuckle. Daffodil looked exasperated. “That’s exactly right. There are no heroes in this city. If you know that, why are you still working as an adventurer?” “Hmm… So I can eat good food, I guess.” “That’s just a hobby.” “Yeah. All I want to do is wake up in the morning, venture out with my party, kill monsters and catch bad guys, get paid, relax with a bowl of good food, and return to the inn to sleep.” “That sounds fine to me. You don’t need to be an adventurer to live that lifestyle.” “Yes, I do.” Karan sadly shook her head. “I’m too stupid to do anything else.” “No, you’re not. You’ve gotten much wiser since you left home,” Daffodil insisted. “Maybe, but I still need to learn so much more about the world. I would fail the interview for any normal job. I think I’d still be easy prey to scammers,” Karan responded. “Karan…” “If I ever become smart enough to make calculations and strategize, I’ll be able to find creative ways to keep doing the right thing without conflict. But until then, I want to do good in the way any idiot can. I won’t be a coward.” “You have to be strong to truly make a difference in the world. As strong as the hero who defeated the demon god,” Daffodil said, shaking her head sadly. “I’m not dumb enough to try to be a hero on my own, and I know I might lose to a really strong villain. I don’t want to count myself out, but I’ve already had a few close calls. That said…” Karan trailed off. “Yeah?” “I think everything will work out just fine if I’m with my other Survivors.” Daffodil seemed to rack her brains for what to say and sighed. “Fine. Do what you want. But think about how long you want to keep doing this.” “I don’t know about that…” “I won’t tell you to quit the Adventurers Guild right now. But I want you to remember this. Your parents love you so much more than any stone.” “Okay,” Karan said with a nod. Daffodil turned to Nick next. “Nick. Please take this to heart. Work might be going well now, but adventurers always reach a day when they can’t go on. The heyday of any physically demanding job is fleeting. Even if you avoid a major injury, your heart and soul may end up broken from the number of terrifying experiences you end up going through. Am I wrong?” “No, you’re not,” Nick admitted. “When that time comes for Karan, I want you to make sure she retires. I don’t want her losing an arm, a leg, her life, or something even worse,” Daffodil beseeched. Nick felt there was more to her request than simple worry for a reckless little-sister figure. There was a weight to her words that only a person who had lost something could project. Karan seemed to feel that weight, too, and couldn’t bring herself to interject. “I can’t tell you what you want to hear. As the leader, I can kick her out of my party, but I have no right to tell her to stop working as an adventurer,” Nick replied. “This is exactly why I hate adventurers,” Daffodil said with an exasperated shrug. “I’m sorry, Daffy,” Karan apologized. “Don’t say things you don’t feel. I’ve always known what kind of girl you were,” Daffodil said, rubbing the guilty-looking Karan on the head. Karan’s cries for her to stop went unheeded. Nick spoke up to save her. “I will say this, Daffodil. We’re called the Survivors for a reason—our number one rule is to come back from any adventure alive. If Karan ever finds herself in mortal danger, I’ll tie her up and drag her to you.” “Okay. I’ll hold you to that,” Daffodil replied. “You’re so annoying!” Karan snapped, escaping from her cousin’s hand and turning away with a huff. Daffodil laughed innocently. “I’ll let you go for today. You can eat as much as you want,” she said, picking up Ares and grabbing the check. “Daffy!” Karan protested. “It’s okay to rely on your elders now and then, Karan.” “We ordered too much. You should take some home, at least. Excuse me, can we please have a takeout box? Oh, and is it too late to use a coupon?” Karan asked after calling over the dwarf waiter. He complained that she should’ve given him the coupon earlier as he checked them out, and Karan apologized. “She’s really grown accustomed to this, hasn’t she…?” Daffodil giggled as she watched Karan’s exchange with the waiter. “She’s definitely not an idiot,” Nick said. Daffodil nodded happily in response. A few days later, when the Survivors were all gathered at the Fishermen Adventurers Guild, Nick said something that shocked the rest of his party.
Chapter 62
48 min read