Chapter 167

01 The fifty-third stratum of the Labyrinth was common training ground for the Labyrinth Suppression Forces. The floor was also a great place for hunting and gathering materials. After a Labyrinth monster was defeated, only a portion of its corpse remained. The commonly accepted theory was that magical power solidified to generate a monster, meaning such creatures weren’t fully manifested when they first appeared. As time went on, their bodies incarnated bit by bit, starting with those features that best represented the characteristics of the species in question. Monsters that boasted offensive abilities yielded fangs or claws when killed, and those that boasted high defense would produce things like hides. Someone had once put forward the idea that monsters didn’t leave the Labyrinth because they couldn’t, as their bodies weren’t fully manifested yet. Scholars who advocated this theory reported, “If you catch a weak monster like a goblin or orc and take it out of the Labyrinth, the same phenomenon will occur as when you defeat them within the Labyrinth: The corpse will vanish, leaving behind only the portion of their bodies that had fully materialized.” Curiously, there was a reported case of the same phenomenon occurring when monsters who couldn’t normally travel between strata were forced to move to a different floor of the Labyrinth. This led to an opposing theory that proposed that the very movements of monsters, even from one stratum to the next, was the will of the Labyrinth itself. Of course, things like incarnations of monsters in the Labyrinth or the laws of their movement didn’t matter at all to Dick, who today was fighting basilisks in the fifty-third stratum. The only important thing was knowing when the subjugation period was so he could collect valuable materials like the hides of those creatures. Among the types of skins the Labyrinth Suppression Forces could currently obtain, basilisk hides were the most useful. Their slash and impact resistance could be passed on to the magical metal armor that dwarven artisans forged with, but they were also lightweight and highly resistant to spells. Since Sieg was the alchemist’s escort, he had his pick of the items the Labyrinth Suppression Forces offered on the market for fundraising purposes. Even when many of the Forces did not have such things yet, Sieg’s choice came first. Those who wore light armor and attacked from a distance, or scouts who emphasized speed and skills were waiting impatiently for their turn. “Bring it down! Don’t drop your guard for an instant! Rising Dragon Spear!” “Right!” After battling with the basilisk for a few hours, Dick delivered the final blow. Joining him in battle today were twelve people assigned under his command from the third unit of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces. The Forces were composed of units numbering one through eight, excluding Leonhardt’s and Weishardt’s personal guards, as well as detachments with special tasks such as intelligence gathering. Each unit was divided in order of strength into a main force and a backup force. Below both of those was a training unit, but soldiers in that group were treated more as trainees; they weren’t assigned to any unit proper. When facing a powerful monster, numbers didn’t necessarily equal power. Of course, there were large differences in strength between individual people, so numbers and fighting strength weren’t proportional. However, in order to defeat a monster that was far larger than humans and superior to them in terms of strength, it was required to understand that creature’s weaknesses and work together while leveraging the skills of each individual. Even if they belonged to the same unit, there was a gap in fighting power between a backup force and a main force, and they didn’t fight on the front lines together. In times of peace, the groups battled in hunting grounds corresponding to their respective levels. Casualties made the replenishment speed high, however, so the organization was divided vertically in order of strength to facilitate cooperation. If a soldier was promoted to the main force, they could fight together with those who were formerly their seniors. When Dick returned to the Forces, he was assigned as captain of the third unit. He succeeded a former superior of his who wanted to retire from the frontline work, and a young spear user who admired him was assigned as lieutenant of the same squad. This made adapting to the new position very easy for Dick. Did everyone in the squad admire Dick’s discerning eye, the same one that had seen the true nature of the mermaids’ fake breasts? The sharp rise in frequency of parties among members of the third unit ever since he’d assumed his position may have helped him earn that respect as well. The unit had the most reckless soldiers of all the Labyrinth Suppression Forces, and talking things over with them while having a few drinks proved effective. Amber was energetically managing Sunlight’s Canopy again today. Although the shop had acquired a troublesome master, and Mariela was frequently absent these days, Amber continued to put her best effort into her work. She kept saying it didn’t matter whether her husband came home, as long as he was safe. If her husband was happy, so was she. Amber did her best not to believe that the reason Dick now went to so many drinking parties was because she’d said she didn’t mind them. The two newlyweds had suffered many hardships to be together, and Amber didn’t think her husband would do something like that. Burdened with this go-with-the-flow situation, the third unit magnificently slew the basilisk and the victory brought Dick and the others some prized basilisk hides, magical gems, and ley-line shards, as well as the satisfaction of a job well done. These types of items were usually dropped by the basilisks of this stratum. Longer-lived ones also yielded fangs and claws in addition to hides, as well as larger magical gems, though not ley-line shards. A great deal of time was spent subjugating the fifty-third stratum’s King of Cursed Serpents, but it proved to be well worth it. By tracking the time between when a basilisk was generated and when it was defeated, the Forces could control the materials that dropped with almost perfect accuracy. “Shall we get that one next?” After a short break, Dick set his sights on another basilisk the soldiers had found. If they temporarily went back to the stratum stairs, the scout unit could recommend a specific target, but Dick’s unit had already found one close by. Going all the way back was a bother, so this would be fine. “Rising Drago—” (That one’s only just appeared, you know.) A familiar voice echoed in Dick’s head, just as he was about to launch his first long-range attack. “Malraux…” “In any case, I imagine you chose not to go back to the stairs because it was too much trouble. Think about why we were given soldier slaves for routine duties.” Dick halted his attack, and Malraux appeared beside him along with his orderly and soldier slave. Malraux, who had returned to the Forces along with Dick, had been assigned as the lieutenant of the intelligence unit. The intelligence and scout units reported directly to Weishardt, and because of the circumstances of their work, the personnel and organizational structure of those units were not made public. That was probably why Malraux was assigned a front-facing job within the intelligence unit; he wasn’t readily recognized. He was once a commanding officer in the same unit as Dick, and he possessed both combat ability and telepathic skills at the upper end of the B Rank. He, too, was once again busy day after day in both the Labyrinth and the City. The recent progression of subjugation had made it desirable for the intelligence unit to venture into the Labyrinth. “Long time, no see. Scouting the red dragon? What’s that thing up to?” “‘Long time, no see’ is a fine thing to say. I do believe just yesterday you were drunk and sleeping on the road near your house. Who was it that brought you home? If a yagu inadvertently stepped on you, it would suffer an injury, wouldn’t it? That’s property damage. The red dragon is the same as it ever was. Just like you; for better or for worse.” Dick had spoken as if regarding an old friend, yet Malraux’s response was anything but. “Oof… I thought I was sleeping in the entry hall this morning, but…” He had no memory of what happened that night. Dick’s expression told Malraux that much. He’d taken up residence in a spot near Malraux’s house so the two wives could help each other, and so Amber wouldn’t be as troubled during her husband’s absence. Apparently, the only one who’d actually been helped by the arrangement was a drunk Dick, however. And yesterday, Malraux had discovered Dick sleeping in an alley near his house and brought him home. Although Amber had opened the door and brought him inside despite the late hour, she’d still left him in the entry hall. “That’s just like you. Your orderly escorted you to the main road, yet you said ‘Here is fine,’ and parted with him on a side road because you didn’t want Amber to see. Honestly. Ms. Amber was quite angry last night, you know.” Malraux spoke as if he saw the whole thing, and Dick’s orderly nodded in agreement. Dick brooded about it for a bit, then said, “It’s fine, she still made a boxed lunch for me today,” as if trying to convince even himself. “What is in your boxed lunch?” “…Bread.” “Just bread?” “Yeah.” “…She’s angry.” “…You think so…?” Since Amber had immediately come to the door when Malraux took Dick home, she’d probably been worried about her husband and had been waiting up all night for him. She had no idea he was sleeping in the street in a drunken stupor just a stone’s throw from their house. Anyone would’ve been angry. She was probably going on a tirade about it to Freyja or Merle at Sunlight’s Canopy right now. Behind the facade of their absurd conversation, the pair’s telepathic communication continued. (At any rate, Dick, that is your issue. Considering what happened with Lynx and the slave Jay, you probably find it difficult to give orders to the soldier slaves tasked with routine duties, yes?) The main force’s captain and lieutenant each had one soldier slave for common tasks, as well as one orderly. The orderlies were from the backup forces, and although they were C Rank at best, they were chosen as assistants for their keen minds. The soldier slaves would carry baggage and handle odd jobs. Despite being assigned as slaves for menial errands, they accompanied their masters to the front lines, so many of them were C Rank or above and very well behaved. Each of them had their own circumstances—shouldering the massive debts of another; opposing a noble and being framed with a crime—but many among the ranks were good people at heart. Since these types of slaves served under high-ranking individuals, they were the best workers among the penal laborers and lifelong slaves sent to the Labyrinth City, and they were treated comparatively well. They went into the Labyrinth, which was teeming with monsters, but, like Sieg, they were permitted to carry weapons, and even wear armor. Such slaves were also permitted to bring basic necessities, and provided with private rooms and salaries equivalent to an allowance. However, they were still penal laborers, the same as Jay. (…If they were forced to go alone and came across a basilisk, they might not make it), Dick thought back. Malraux, with a bit of silent self-deprecating laughter, thought it a very fitting answer for the man. The likes of penal laborers were shown no mercy. They should have clearly been treated as criminals. Malraux wondered if he was the only one swayed by such thoughts. Dick’s orderly suddenly spoke up, “Next time, I’ll see you to your front door. Please let me keep watch from a distance to make sure you’re let in. Rest assured I won’t let your wife see me!” Then his soldier slave said, “I’ll go ask for the location of the next basilisk right away!” and was just about to start running when another soldier stopped him. This slave was still young, with a freckled face. Although he was too naive to truly resemble Lynx, the way he seemed impatient to demonstrate his worth to Dick somehow reminded Malraux of the former smiley-eyed comrade back when he’d first come to the Black Iron Freight Corps. The assembled members of the Forces and their attendants seemed to be enjoying the story of Dick sleeping in the street. Their eyes were lit with energy. Mages and sword users may have had different roles, but they still battled side by side. Likewise, everyone assembled in the stratum had been given different tasks, but it was important for them to work together regardless of positions. Fully aware of that, Dick treated even the soldier slaves similarly to how he would treat his own subordinates. (You can treat the slaves as subordinates despite what happened?) (Well y’know, everyone’s different.) Malraux turned to look at his own slave. He was a large, muscular B-Rank man who’d been assigned to be his master’s shield if push came to shove. Indeed, this soldier slave with a criminal’s antipathy had learned to remain silent in Malraux’s cold presence, and diligently obeyed his commands. “Dick, if you travel along the right side of the wall over there, you’ll find a particularly ripe basilisk. Rhet, Taros, let’s go,” Malraux said and took his leave. His orderly, Rhet, answered “Yes, sir.” The soldier slave Taros, whose name Malraux had called for the first time, showed slight surprise on his face, then nodded silently and followed. (The red dragon may be the same, but the City has a slight stink to it. Dick, it would be prudent to drink in moderation.) (Got it. You be careful, too.) That was the end of their telepathic conversation. Malraux had probably approached Dick just to give him that warning. Dick mentally thanked his friend, musing that some truly never did change. “Let’s head right. We’re gonna take down another one!” “I’ll scout ahead!” “Make yourself scarce. Be sure not to get caught.” “Yes, sir! Leave it to me!” Dick and the others proceeded through the Labyrinth as they watched the restless soldier slave run ahead of the third unit. 02 “A slave doesn’t get to walk in the middle of the road!” Mariela’s body stiffened in shock at the sudden shouting. She’d left the shop in Amber’s hands and left her master in the hands of Sherry and the others. The young alchemist was with Merle, and the two were on their way back from shopping for dinner. At a glance, the pair looked like an older woman and her daughter—easy targets—but since soldiers in civilian clothes were protecting the area, Mariela was in no real danger, even if a hoodlum adventurer caused a fuss. “Good grief, I suppose there are more groups like this around here lately. How awful.” Merle had just been next to Mariela and chatting enthusiastically about bargain products at the wholesale market, but before Mariela knew what was happening, Merle had stepped in front of her. The older woman was both tall and wide, so Mariela was completely hidden behind her and couldn’t see what was going on at all. “There’s nothing you’d want to see anyway. Now, let’s hurry home and start getting dinner ready!” Merle gripped Mariela’s shoulder and pulled her into an about-face. It was a surprisingly fast spin. If Mariela hadn’t been able to hear the unsettling shouts, she would have thought it was fun and asked for an encore: “Once more! Seconds! One more time!” New people emigrating from the imperial capital because of the monster-warding potions was a good thing, but the City felt a little less safe. Around the time Mariela’s master had arrived, Carol had apparently grown rather busy and stopped visiting Sunlight’s Canopy. As a young lady of the Aguinas family, Carol had been accompanied by escorts since she was small, so she was probably in no danger. Even so, Mariela grew a little worried every time an incident like this occurred. She understood from the loud voice that demanded her attention, that someone had picked a fight with a slave and was beating them. Apparently, it was all just because the slave had been walking in the middle of the road. “Merle, we should call a guard…” Mariela understood her own weakness, and she also understood that poking her nose where it didn’t belong out of curiosity caused trouble for the people around her. What happened with Lynx had taught her that lesson to a hundred times over. Even so, Mariela was reluctant to run away without doing anything when someone who had committed no crime was suffering. Merle cracked a smile at Mariela and said, “It’s fine, I’m already contacting someone. Let’s slip away now,” then lightly pushed on her back. Merle’s words were a comfort to Mariela. They were about to leave when they heard a somewhat philosophical remark. “A road is open for anyone to walk on.” “What’s your problem, asshole? You gonna fight me with that weak little thing? You wanna play make-believe sword fight with an umbrella?” “Oh, this’s gotten interesting. Ela, let’s sneak just a little look from back there.” The plan to escape had flown out the window. Merle pushed Mariela behind a stall and began to watch the ruckus through a gap. “Is that…Grandel?!” What Mariela and Merle saw from their spot behind the stall was Grandel, shield knight of the Black Iron Freight Corps, with the slave Newie following close behind. They had probably returned to the Labyrinth City after finishing their delivery. Several large baguettes protruded from the bundle Newie carried, so the pair may have been on their way home from shopping as well. Newie tried to hide behind the knight as he peeked out in a fluster, but Grandel had a slim figure like a young tree, so the slave was completely visible. He could have hidden just fine if Grandel were as wide as Merle! Mariela entertained the rude thought quietly to herself. Even though she’d once been called “Chubby-ela,” it seemed she only thought about the present. The slim gentleman, Grandel, with his suit that swished like a tailcoat, silk hat, thin and tightly wrapped umbrella, said to the hoodlum adventurer, “It seems you have lost your way,” as he stroked his handlebar mustache. Behind him, Newie was wearing a determined expression, despite his trembling, and in fact, he seemed ready to hoist Grandel on his shoulder and get out of there if anything happened. Maybe he was trembling with excitement? Newie had once been a fine thug himself, so he couldn’t have been nervous about facing a hoodlum adventurer. At least, probably. Believing the seemingly amusing duo to be easy opponents, the hoodlum exchanged looks with his four cohorts, left the slave he’d been kicking, and motioned for his group to encircle the upstart with the mustache. “Sure have. We’re lost and we got no money. And after we came all the way from the capital, too. So, give us all the money you got on you, old man!” “Hrm, considering you involved an unarmed slave who did nothing wrong, I imagine you wanted to cause trouble and cheat his master out of some coin. If you think that sort of trick will go unnoticed in this city, your intellect is sorely lacking.” Without even trying to conceal his condescension, Grandel raised both hands to shoulder level and spread them in a W shape. Then he lightly lifted one leg and bent it to make a cross shape with the other, a pose that strongly implied a sense of looking down on someone. The meaning was easy enough for anyone to grasp; even a fool could understand that Grandel was treating the ruffian like a moron. “Y-y-y-you shon of a bitch!!!” “Sheems like you have a shlight problem there, shonny?” Pushing further, Grandel needled at the hoodlum’s error. He never cracked a smile, even though the adventurer had tripped over his own tongue so badly one might have thought he was drunk. Grandel seemed to possess both a malicious nature unbecoming of his gentlemanly exterior, as well as quite the way with words. “I didn’t botch it up that muuuch!!!” As one might have expected of such a man, the adventurer quickly flew into a rage and lashed out at Grandel. However… “Heave-ho.” As if to say, “Here, borrow my umbrella,” Grandel stuck out the hand holding the thing and sent the hoodlum adventurer flying in the opposite direction. “H-how’d you do that?!” The toppled adventurer’s buddies were men of equally ill character, and after the conventional one-liner, they let out a rallying cry, drew their weapons, and stabbed at the gentleman who’d dared to rebuff their friend’s attack. Mariela was about to shout for Grandel to watch out, but with a wink Merle gently covered her mouth. “He’s not in danger, Ela. Pretty easy to see where this is headed. Even the world of ruffians has a rulebook.” What kind of rulebook? A how-to manual with easy ways to pick fights, the correct way to speak like a hoodlum, and how to make an escape without attracting attention? These hardly seemed the type to subscribe to such business publications. Before Merle could finish explaining, Grandel undid the latch on his umbrella and opened it. “Shield Bash.” Was that kind of thing possible? Mariela’s eyes opened so wide they were near perfect circles. When mustachioed man opened his umbrella and lightly pushed it forward, the adventurers were all blown away as if they’d been shoved by a great tempest. “Gaaah!” They uttered cliché screams as they fell to the ground, twitching, and then stopped moving altogether. Conveniently, they seemed to have passed out. “No way… The Umbrella Shield Bash…” Umbrella Shield Bash. It was a legendary special move that children longed to learn. Which meant the technique used to bring down the initial hoodlum adventurer had to have been with an umbrella sword that only a legendary hero could use. Though in the future stories about this event, it would be hard to discount the idea that it had actually been a fake umbrella sword possessed by a wandering swordsman. “Wow, that wash incredible, Grandel!” Even Mariela was so excited that she slurred her words. She jumped out from behind Merle and the stall and ran toward him, while Merle simply watched her warmly, content that the danger had passed. “Grandel! That wash incredible!” Children, feeling much the same as Mariela, came forward, surrounding the man, while the alchemist herself gazed up at the “Heroic Grandel” with great enthusiasm. “Hoh-hoh. Oh, Mariela, it wash, washn’t it?” Grandel answered, smiling. Even if you have shield skills, their strength is bound proportionally to the shield’s defensive power. A shield knight’s skills also affect the equipment they wear, so all those who serve as part of a vanguard and endure heavy blows wear heavy metal armor and use shields with high defensive power. Even if the umbrella were made of cloth woven from monster thread, at the end of the day, it was still cloth. Unlike metal or other sturdier materials, it had low physical defensive power because it easily succumbed to the cuts of weapons. Even a special umbrella was still made with a piece of fabric pulled taut. You could say it was durable all you wanted, but at most it might guard against a thrown rock. Using it as a shield to repel physical attacks from adventurers wasn’t something an ordinary shield knight could do. That’s why it wasn’t strange in and of itself for Mariela and the children to gaze at Grandel with such reverence. “Now wait a minute, aren’t you a bit old to be spouting ‘Umbrella Shield Bash’ and baby talk?” Merle interrupted as the only one who’d kept her calm, and Grandel finally returned to his senses. Tugging at his mustache in slight embarrassment, he laughed with a “Hoh-hoh” and a wink in response. Shield gentleman Grandel. In spite of his incredibly high-ranking shield skill, he was born with a frail gastrointestinal tract; meat and fat didn’t agree with him. This had left his muscles weak as a result. The giant shields that other shield knights used, not to mention their heavy armor, were too weighty for him. If he ever donned such things, he wouldn’t be able to move. To compensate, his shield and armor had wheels and were pulled by raptors. The armored carriages guarded by Grandel’s shield skill had long protected the Black Iron Freight Corps from being pursued by monsters. It was, of course, impossible to use a carriage to perform a bash attack on monsters, but Shield Bash wasn’t Grandel’s only technique. The last carriage in the caravan—the one that was the most susceptible to monster attacks—was kept safe by Grandel’s defensive skills. So long as he rode along with it, the carriage would be as sturdy as thick cast metal. You could say working for the Black Iron Freight Corps, a company that traveled through the Fell Forest in armored carriages, was Grandel’s calling. He was a man who had found his niche. The troupe of “legendary heroes” who kept the peace in the City triumphantly headed back toward Sunlight’s Canopy. Comprising its members were Grandel, who wielded the holy shield umbrella, Newie the former thief, Merle the spice shop merchant, and Mariela the chemist. It was a party of fabled adventurers. It wouldn’t have been strange to find an alchemist among them in the old days, but it was best that Mariela called herself a chemist for caution’s sake. This party is a bit lacking in firepower, though. Had they desired such a thing, they needed to look no further than Mariela’s master. She always had plenty of that, regardless of the time or place. Mariela wanted to tell her that bigger wasn’t better when it came to cooking fires, though. A swordsman or warrior would’ve been better choices. Sieg was out hunting, and if he wasn’t at Sunlight’s Canopy then the only other strong person was… I wonder if Dr. Nierenberg would join us… Her master definitely would, but having Nierenberg was probably asking too much. Just imagining his frigid gaze made Mariela feel like someone was looking right through her. I wonder if there’s a spare swordsman around somewhere. Still playing her game of make-believe heroes, Mariela headed for Sunlight’s Canopy. The party of conquering adventurers was in need of more members. The usual way to gain them was to ask around in a tavern. Sunlight’s Canopy wasn’t exactly one of those, but Mariela’s master got dead drunk there day after day, so it wasn’t much different, either. You could also drink tea there, so the young alchemist figured the disparity was negligible. Thus Mariela invited Grandel, “Would you like to have some tea at Sunlight’s Canopy?” and with his acceptance, the heroes’ triumphant return became official. “This is Sunlight’s Canopy.” When Mariela opened the door, she found… “My eyes have been opened to true love! I want to convey the feelings burning in my heart! Beautiful lady, please tell me your name!!!” “Ah-ha-ha, Fryer?” “Fire! Is that a name?!” “Nooo. Fryer!” “Fire!” “Fryer!” The wanderer of love, Edgan, had fallen in love with the drunken Freyja. He seemed to have cracked. Edgan hadn’t just fallen in love. He’d tumbled all the way to the infinite depths of hell. He’d utterly lost his way in life and might never recover. Although Mariela’s master kept saying, “Fryer! Fryer!” nothing caught fire, so she seemed to still have some sense left. However, the master’s good mood left her student with a feeling of unease. From the back of the shop, Dr. Nierenberg shot Edgan a look colder than the Ahriman Springs in winter or the ice and snow stratum. The lovestruck man, however, had overcome both places in the past, and the glare seemed to have little effect on him. Maybe Sieg should have chosen his friends a little more carefully. But then, Sieg only had people like Lynx and Edgan to call friends. After Lynx’s death, Sieg was given no alternative but to hunt alone in the Fell Forest or the Labyrinth every day, leaving him no time to make new friends. If the mage joined us, the swordsman would probably come with her, but… We don’t need that kind of trouble. Mariela suddenly came to her senses. Ignoring the inebriated Freyja and Edgan, she served tea to Grandel and the others, then began preparations for dinner. 03 “This time it was just an idiot, but a lot of those types have been making their way to the City.” Merle of Merle’s Spices had come to see Weishardt under the guise of a foreign merchant with tea and utensils imported from the imperial capital by the Black Iron Freight Corps. She dealt in more than just tea-related items. Merle was an intelligence operative. What she truly traded in was information. “I see. Something to do with a noble family from the outside?” “Maybe. We’ve also seen the occasional merchant keen on their own interests. It’s generally what we expected. Even so, haven’t the nobles been unusually cooperative? Even though the value of their assets has crashed due to the potion sales.” “The consequences of the Aguinas incident have been cleaned up in the City. And I’ve promised sufficient compensation to the remaining groups.” “Are you okay with that? I overheard a bit, but that promise… Hasn’t the Lady Sage made a fuss about it?” “It was the Lady Sage’s suggestion.” Weishardt provided an answer to Merle’s doubts. She was an outstanding intelligence operative, but while she knew the Labyrinth City inside and out, Merle also had a compassionate side to her, particularly where Mariela was concerned. She was well educated on the cruelty of humans, perhaps that’s why she liked the naive girl better than her job. “…In that case, I guess it’s fine. Still, hearing it was that Lady Sage’s suggestion makes me uneasy. Apart from that, the problem at hand is the groups coming in from outside the City.” The Labyrinth City was the territory of Margrave Schutzenwald’s family, but they weren’t the only nobles that had taken up residence there. Many noble families with official positions in the Labyrinth City had lived there for generations. The family of Margrave Schutzenwald and the other noble families living in the City were all retainers of the Empire. However, the Empire itself had to maintain appearances as an unfaltering nation in order to stand against not only the Fell Forest, but neighboring countries as well. There were the nations of demi-humans and races prone to violence, the constantly warring family of small nations, and religious states to contend with. Therefore, the margraves entrusted with defending the borders between the Empire and these zones of conflict had been given a lot of discretionary power and autonomy within the scope of fulfilling that duty. The noble families in the Labyrinth City were like retainers to the house of Margrave Schutzenwald. Many of them had once served the Kingdom of Endalsia and worked tirelessly after the Stampede to restore their home city rather than abandon it. Even after the Labyrinth City became a territory of the Empire, their services were valued highly, and the noble families were given ranks in court. They were also granted small-to medium-size territories around the Fell Forest. The lands around the Labyrinth City they once owned had been stolen by the monsters and engulfed by the forests, making them unable to reclaim. That’s why the noble families were given new territories, but those new sections of land were still set close to the woods. This was said to be synonymous with guarding the Fell Forest, and it was difficult to respond to goblin and orc attacks during the harvest season in the small territories. The reasonable solution probably would have been to cooperate and seek the protection of the strong in order to survive. However, even if they cooperated, almost no profit would remain after deducting the cost of protecting the territories from the taxes received from those endangered people. Even with the slight annual salary provided by the Empire, the noble families couldn’t make decent livings for themselves. So, after two hundred years, the house of Margrave Schutzenwald had been entrusted with managing the region, from deploying governors, to furnishing and paying taxes on technology related to production, to many other areas. Most of the nobility was employed in official positions in the Schutzenwald family’s lands or the Labyrinth City. They made a living from pensions or salaries and investment profits from the territories entrusted to them. Like so many others, even the house of Margrave Schutzenwald needed assistance in manpower. So, the margrave elected to balance the cooperative noble families seeking official positions in terms of abilities and pedigree. They also used the Labyrinth Suppression Forces and the City Defense Squad for different purposes and aimed to treat them accordingly. Even so, there were many who clung to reckless ambitions of self-importance disproportionate to their abilities. Such members of the nobility who were unwilling to compromise were purged as a consequence of the Aguinas family scandal and were now on “sick leave.” Unless they had been appointed to high-ranking positions within the Labyrinth Suppression Forces, the remaining respectable aristocratic families felt anxious about the decline in value of their assets caused by potion sales, as well as the dizzying rate at which change was coming to their City. It was perfectly reasonable that they’d harbor feelings of anger toward the house of Margrave Schutzenwald. However, due to a “certain promise,” the house of Margrave Schutzenwald had presented a cooperative system to be used until the Labyrinth was defeated. This meant that the gentry who didn’t live in the Labyrinth City and held territory around the Fell Forest were more likely to be the ones to cause a problem. Many of them were wealthy, had medium-size or larger plots of land, possessed resources and yagu merchant caravan encampments within their acreages, and were only able to manage their own domains. That included matters of defense. Claiming that they were equal retainers under the emperor and not servants of the margrave, these nobles who resided outside the City had a standardized system of cooperation to defend themselves, but they didn’t hold official positions under the house of Margrave Schutzenwald. Though prideful to the point of being a nuisance, their behavior wasn’t from a sense of loyalty to the emperor, as they claimed. It was merely the result of weighing profit and loss. The fact the tax rate in their territories was, without exception, higher than that of Margrave Schutzenwald’s family’s territory explained it all. As nobles and as retainers of the emperor, it would be far better to lower taxes to an equal rate with Margrave Schutzenwald’s family’s so the common folk could live adequate lives. Their assistance as soldiers helping to subjugate the Labyrinth and defend the area around the Fell Forest and the imperial capital would be invaluable as well. Unfortunately, these nobles prioritized their own interests. They were bound to act after potions began to appear for sale in the Labyrinth City. So long as there were no problems with distribution channels, the Labyrinth would yield a great deal of wealth, both directly and indirectly. Who could know what these outside nobles were they thinking, and how they would act? In these times of great change for the Labyrinth City, Weishardt was compelled to take difficult measures. 04 I will spend sleepless nights praying for your safety. The letter was from Malraux’s legal wife, who lived on an estate in the imperial capital. “A barefaced lie,” Malraux spit. He tore the paper and threw it away. The man who lived as simply “Malraux” without giving his last name was the third son of a low-class noble who held terrain at the border of the imperial capital and the Fell Forest. Since the territory was so small, there was nothing for a third son to inherit. Relying on the telepathy skill he’d had since birth, Malraux volunteered for the Labyrinth Suppression Forces and ascended the ranks all the way to a commanding officer at a young age. It was around that time when the family of Countess Beratte brought negotiations for marriage to his parents’ home. Considering the court rank and lineage of Malraux’s parents—descendants from the Kingdom of Endalsia—it was unbelievable that an old family of the Empire, one of good pedigree, and a countess’s family to boot, would want him. Apparently, his appointment as a commanding officer in the Labyrinth Suppression Forces at a young age was what made this proposal possible. The family he would marry into had a yagu merchant caravan encampment in their territory, and these convoys traveled between the Labyrinth City and the imperial capital. Malraux’s territory would get food, iron, and a variety of goods from the imperial capital and the Labyrinth City via the encampment. It was a proposal he couldn’t refuse, even if there was someone Malraux had promised his future to. Apparently, the family of Countess Beratte had investigated Malraux before making the marriage proposal. They had even offered him the option of having a lover and children, provided they didn’t leave the Labyrinth City. “Let’s escape to a foreign country together.” That was what Malraux had declared as he took his beloved’s hand, but it was she who broached the subject of parting ways and encouraged him to accept the Beratte family’s marriage proposal. Malraux didn’t know until much later that a life was already growing inside the woman he loved and she wasn’t in a position to flee anywhere. Malraux’s beloved, who had no social position, prestige, nor even property, believed he would be happy marrying into Countess Beratte’s family, who could provide all of those things for him. It seemed rather suspect—why would a countess want a husband who’d become a commanding officer through his own abilities but had a low social position? Although Malraux’s beloved had doubts about someone who would offer the option of having a lover, she desired his happiness from the bottom of her heart, so perhaps she couldn’t help believing that the other woman must’ve had those same feelings. Malraux resigned from the Labyrinth Suppression Forces and moved into the home of Countess Beratte, where he was welcomed by his new wife, the head of the family, and a steward companionably standing by her side. Malraux immediately recognized that the steward’s black hair was dyed. The chamberlain’s true hair and eye color were similar to Malraux’s own blond hair and blue eyes, though perhaps a bit more vivid. This attendant with suspiciously similar features made Malraux understand the reason for this marriage. The steward was a commoner, and no matter how much he achieved or how much the two loved each other, he couldn’t be the countess’s husband. So, which one of us truly has the lover in this situation, I wonder? Just as Malraux feared, his token wife gave birth to a child who bore almost no resemblance to him save hair and eye color. The noblewoman and her attendant grew even closer, and Malraux’s weak position as a man who’d married into his wife’s family had gone nowhere. Could anyone blame him for longing for his former lover? They hadn’t parted on bad terms, and not a day had gone by when Malraux didn’t think of her. His former lover, now having a hard time raising their daughter, had been the one to hire an A-Rank adventurer. She was waiting for Malraux when he arrived in the Labyrinth City. Malraux’s little girl had his exact blond hair and blue eyes. Unlike the shining golden hair of the son of Countess Beratte, her hair was a dull yellow with gentle waves. “She has an odd habit of tightly curling her toes while she’s sleeping, just like you.” At those words, Malraux said, “Please let me take care of your expenses,” but she refused. “I’m grateful for the offer, but we don’t need that person’s money.” And so, to earn money of his own… Malraux started up the Black Iron Freight Corps and called on Dick, who just happened to need a large sum of money for Amber right around that same time; Edgan, who was searching for work outside the Labyrinth Suppression Forces; Donnino; and Grandel. Malraux was the one who’d started the transportation group, but Dick was made captain as a preventative measure so that the Countess Beratte and her family could not exert their influence over the trade company. Although the house of the countess showed some disapproval at Malraux’s decision, they allowed him to remain in the Black Iron Freight Corps. In part because of the intervention of the house of Margrave Schutzenwald, who had a far higher social position, the only stipulation was that Malraux had to make an appearance at his secondary residence in the imperial capital once a month. His wife had said shameless, flowery things like “It’s a problem for a husband of the Beratte family not to be in the imperial capital for a single day a month,” and “I’m worried about you, so I want to see you.” However, Malraux was confident it was just an excuse for when she had a second child with the steward. She probably would have considered it quite convenient if her legal husband died during one of his many back-and-forth trips through the Fell Forest. Whatever his wife expected, Malraux and the Black Iron Freight Corpse managed to pass through the forest with their lives intact. Despite it creating more difficulties, he came forward as the father of his former love’s daughter, and he was permitted to live with them in the Labyrinth City for short periods. Malraux assumed his reinstatement to the Labyrinth Suppression Forces was thanks to the strong support of Margrave Schutzenwald’s family, who paid the countess a large sum of money as “remuneration.” While Malraux was away from the estate developing his new trade corporation, the family of Countess Beratte heard the business the steward was involved in had failed and their cash flow had deteriorated. The countess had asked Malraux for money several times since the founding of the Black Iron Freight Corps, and he’d paid it on the condition that the steward’s business would be reexamined, but this never came to be. The lover’s business continued to accumulate debt. The Black Iron Freight Corps was doing well, and if Dick hadn’t been made the captain, no doubt it would have long since been snatched up by the steward. Malraux had planned this latest “remuneration” with Weishardt, who was familiar with the situation. As a condition, after Malraux’s reinstatement to the Labyrinth Suppression Forces, a magical contract was formed stating he couldn’t return to the Beratte household until he was relieved of his duties because of the secrecy involved in his occupation. While he was in the Labyrinth City, he would have no connection at all to the business of Countess Beratte’s house, and he made a vow through the judicial branch of the imperial capital that he would be excluded from all interests, including debt. As this contract was functionally similar to a divorce, a proper divorce was also offered, but Countess Beratte refused to agree to it. “Even when we’re apart, I still love him.” When he heard she’d stated such a thing with a cold smile on her face, Malraux felt a chill run down his spine wondering what she was planning this late in the game. In the course of all this, he’d received correspondence from Countess Beratte in the imperial capital. She likely expected this to be inspected when she sent it, but what in the world is its purpose…? A lot of people from the imperial capital were gathering in the Labyrinth City, and there had already been some fights here and there. Even members of the intelligence unit who dealt with the public were being asked to gather information. Malraux looked up at the summer sky and saw a gathering of thick clouds. The humidity and heat only served to further agitate him. It would be nice if some blue sky could at least make an appearance. Malraux breathed a deep sigh at the obstructed view. 05 “Form Transmutation Vessel, Rapid Rotation.” Mariela rotated a disk-shaped Transmutation Vessel at high speed in the temporary atelier in the base of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces. As for her master, she was partying as she had been every day, lounging on a soft and fluffy couch while four soldiers, ranging from a cute type to an intellectual, glasses-wearing type, waited on her. Daily imports of furniture and fur rugs were helping to transform the dreary cellar into a far more pleasant space. Though that was, of course, only in the party corner. The area around Mariela remained dreary, and the soldiers who brought in bags of medicinal herbs and carried out barrels full of potion looked like they were doing disciplinary work. Such a difference in working conditions despite being in the same room. Was this place split into some sort of heaven and hell? Had Mariela, unable to keep her master’s drinking in check no matter how hard she tried, finally gone off the rails? She kept muttering to herself as she made the Transmutation Vessel spin, and no one was quite sure why. “Tune Temperature, then from above, Clean Water.” She dribbled water into the center of the rotating disk. It slid along the plate, then scattered and flew out toward the outer circumference from to the centrifugal force. The surrounding temperature had been lowered, so the fine drops of water froze and became tiny beads of ice. “Mmm, it’s easy to control, and I can make a lot, but the water droplets are a little big…” The lunamagia extraction had become the bottleneck for making high-grade potions with alchemy skills alone. The solid solution dissolved very slowly in frozen water, meaning Mariela needed to find some way to make minute water droplets. She had hit upon the idea for this method after watching drops of water scatter when Grandel spun his umbrella, and she did not wait to implement it into her own work. “It shouldn’t be impossible to make them like this, but it feels wrong somehow.” Mariela believed it possible to use this method to make even high-grade potions. Though they’d end up a little diluted, she would still be making high-grade potions using only alchemical skills. However, there was something important she hadn’t yet understood, or at least that was the feeling she had. “Mm, either way, I’ve gotta think a little more about how to make a nozzle.” Reconsidering, Mariela took out the nozzle she was accustomed to using. She made high-grade potions one at a time until she’d drained her magical power and then promptly plunged into nap time, exhausted. “I’m done for todaaay.” Mariela collapsed with a soft thud as her master, who’d appeared at her side unnoticed, caught her. “Good job, Mariela. It won’t be too much longer now until you crack it.” Mariela, unconscious after depleting her magical energy, couldn’t hear her master’s words of appreciation. Freyja gently lifted her student up in her arms and laid her down on the soft, fluffy couch. All the soldiers who’d been serving her in the party corner stood and lined up near the door, and two of the soldiers who’d been helping Mariela stood waiting near the couch. Freyja laid Mariela’s hands on her stomach so that the right one was on top. Then, while chanting something, she softly touched the rainbow-colored ring on the middle finger of Mariela’s right hand. With a whoosh, a flame about the size of one’s palm rose from the ring as if something were being drawn out. It was the salamander who’d given Mariela the band. The flame instantly took the form of a small lizard, and it alternated between looking at the woman who had called it and at Mariela when Freyja pointed to her. Freyja brought her hand close to the salamander’s nose. A bluish-white fire sprang up from her fingertips, about the size of a match flame, and the salamander eagerly swallowed it. Instantly, its entire body shook, and a bluish-white blaze burst forth from the creature. After the blaze died down, the salamander became a petite, red lizard and curled up on top of Mariela’s hand. “Keep an eye on her for a little while.” “Ma’am.” The two backup soldiers sitting on chairs complied with Freyja’s instructions, and she left the room accompanied by her four hosts…or rather, her four soldiers, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. After Mariela passed out each day, her master would always summon this small spirit and then leave the room, so the guards got used to seeing the salamander. They had been quite astonished the first time they saw it, but now it just seemed like a charming little pet to them. The body of a spirit of flames is a flame itself, and to the guardsmen it seemed impossible for something like that to be able to lie down on someone’s hand. However, it appeared no different from an ordinary lizard, save for its slight transparency. So long as you didn’t look at it too closely, nothing was unusual. While the other soldiers are busy cramming boxes with completed potions and carrying them out and disposing of the herb dregs, the two of us and this small lizard shall protect the alchemist until the Lady Sage of Calamity returns. The two soldiers straightened their backs and steeled their nerves to carry out their heavy responsibility. The soldiers had no idea as to the true power of the salamander that had been given enough magical power to manifest, albeit temporarily. The small fire lizard was an incendiary device capable of blowing up the entire base, apart from Mariela of course. The magical creature opened its mouth in a yawn. One of the soldiers, an animal lover, smiled. He resolved to keep a strict watch, so that this little lizard might sleep carefree. The salamander, which was what Freyja had actually asked to protect Mariela, looked for a good spot on the back of Mariela’s hand, rested its chin comfortably, and closed its eyes, looking wholly content. Freyja, having left behind this extremely dangerous form of security, headed to the next venue with her four soldiers in tow. This was the after-party. A celebration in broad daylight didn’t seem like it would be a very enjoyable option, though. No one questioned the happy drunkard humming a song to herself as she made her way through the base of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces. Of course, since Weishardt had issued orders relating to the Sage of Calamity, there was no problem with Freyja strutting about the base as she pleased. However, the real reason no one took any notice of the unfamiliar outsider was because they were only vaguely aware of her presence. This was also something that had surprised the four soldiers at first, but by now they were used to it by now. Right from the start, they could do little more than bow their heads at the unfathomable Sage of Calamity when she’d chosen only Weishardt’s aides and intelligence staff as her attendants from among the soldiers provided to the alchemist. Although they had disguised their positions, the fiery sage had seen right through them all. Freyja’s chosen location for the after-party was… A single storehouse right through the side door where food and goods were delivered to the Labyrinth Suppression Forces. A large quantity of small glass vials was stacked in carriages lined up outside the structure. Several guards were stationed at the entrance to the storehouse. After taking a few vials from the carriages, they measured their size and weight and put them on some sort of magical tool, then handed over official papers and instructed the owners to bring the vials into the storehouse. These were potion vials. The sand collected at the restored sandpit was carried to the spirit shrine and left there for about one night to charge it with Drops of Life. The venture up to this point was divided into several tasks ordered by the margrave’s family: the collection, transportation, and fractionation of the sand, then selling it to a glass atelier. The noble families and the merchants who accepted these orders had specific interests in the sand, but its quality and price were maintained in accordance with the agreement made at the time of the order. The sand infused with Drops of Life and used for potion vials was purchased by a great number of glassworkers in the Labyrinth City and molded into potion vials, then delivered to this storehouse. The material for potion vials was valuable sand that took time and effort to work with. During this period, when potion vials were needed, no one processed the raw grains into normal window glass or alcohol bottles. It was sold at a higher price than normal sand, so the work itself could be privatized eventually. Of course, the potion vials themselves also had volume, weight, and other quality standards, so the artisans wouldn’t be especially stingy with the glass. The prices were set so profit would be made after factoring in raw material costs and worker wages. The soldiers at the entrance to the storehouse were performing sequential sampling inspections to check if the potion vials met the standards. The magical tool they used was the kind employed in the imperial capital when used potion vials were bought back, and it seemed to measure the Drops of Life and magical gem content within the glass. If the sand was expensive and magical gems were used, the vials had a high material cost. The buyback price was high, so there were some people who considered foolish things in the hopes of making a bigger profit. “Heeey, Mitchell.” Freyja suddenly hugged Mitchell’s shoulder. She was drunk. Their faces were close. Back at the start of all this, Mitchell would have been quite embarrassed, but these days he was used to it and gave a gentlemanly reply—“Please be careful.” Freyja pouted a little, as if displeased, then brought her mouth close to his ear and whispered something. Freyja’s presence largely went unnoticed due to her mysterious magic, but that didn’t mean she was invisible. People could see her and Mitchell flirting, but strangely, no one gave a thought to why a man and a woman had their arms around each other’s shoulders in the Labyrinth Suppression Forces’ base in broad daylight. The next moment when they turned their gazes away, the sight was pushed to the recesses of their memory as meaningless information, like forgetting the face of an old greengrocer. Freyja gazed at the carriages awaiting inspection with her golden eyes, and then left for the after-after-party. Three soldiers accompanied her. Only Mitchell stayed behind. Had Freyja dumped him? Mitchell brushed his curly hair upward and adopted a stern expression, transforming into a completely different person than the man with Freyja. He began walking toward the soldiers performing the inspections. “Do a full check on the next carriage and the two after it. Close the entrance gate so they can’t run away. Pay special attention to the last carriage in particular. Investigate its atelier. Sand was stolen a few days ago. They may be related.” “Sir!” The soldiers followed the instructions at once. Mitchell’s appearance as a cute second-string soldier who Freyja had picked out was an act; the young man was, in truth, one of Weishardt’s aides. The price of the materials and the buyback price for potion vials were both high. Inspections were done by pulling a few samples, so some people thought to “increase” the quantity of their valuable vials by putting ones made from normal glass in the center of carriages to seemingly bolster their supply. Some even took to stealing the materials for making the vials altogether. They would take all the carriages early in the morning before the sand was carried out of the spirit shrine and hide them in the Fell Forest. Then, several days later, they would disguise the sand as crops or harvested goods and took it into the Labyrinth City. If the sand infused with Drops of Life wasn’t melted and made into glass within a few days, the Drops of Life would vanish, and it would become normal sand again. This would be revealed upon inspection, but since the residents of the Labyrinth City hadn’t dealt with potions in a long time, they’d be unlikely to notice. People come up with such despicable plans. As soon as they learned a full inspection would be done, the carriage drivers hastily tried to take their leave but were stopped by the soldiers. It was just as the Sage of Calamity had said when she whispered in Mitchell’s ear. This might not be over before the end of the day. The soldiers recognized from Mitchell’s expression of discontent that this was a matter of grave concern, and they hastened their movements. Was Mitchell displeased that he wasn’t taken to the after-after party, or was it that the work in store for him was lengthy? Perhaps he was angry at the people committing despicable fraud at a time when the sale of potions was so crucial? The young, pretty man immediately increased the inspection personnel, and all the inspections were finished in a few hours. However, by the time Mitchell was released from work, Freyja had already taken Mariela home to Sunlight’s Canopy. 06 “Lady Carol, did you spend today as you do most others? Thank you for your hard work, let’s have some tea.” Weishardt thanked Caroline, who’d been working hard managing the medicinal herbs at the vault in the Labyrinth Suppression Forces’ base. Ever since the decision was made to put potions on the market, Caroline had been departing her estate every morning to inspect the pest-control dumplings workshop, and then she performed medicinal herb quality control in the Labyrinth Suppression Forces’ base. Caroline herself had proposed this. She hadn’t shown up at Sunlight’s Canopy in a long time. It was her duty to attract attention related to potions within the Labyrinth City, so she couldn’t go see Mariela. She heard of how Mariela was doing from Weishardt. He’d never mentioned Mariela was an alchemist, but Caroline was fairly confident that she was. It had become clear to Caroline after she’d spoken with the alchemists from the imperial capital, whom Robert had forced to make the new medicine. The alchemists from the imperial capital used many magical tools to make potions. Magical tools for medicinal use in the Labyrinth City were different from those used by alchemists, but the alchemists of this time would recognize at least some of the ones Caroline had. Besides, if Mariela was “the awakened alchemist,” it would’ve explained the miracle of her father Royce’s release from Ruiz. It seemed to Caroline that even now, Mariela was pushing herself to the limit creating potions for the sake of the Labyrinth City. And if she was, Caroline wanted to help, even if only a little. Just like when they’d once kneaded medicine together. With that in mind, she came forward as the person performing the medicinal herb quality control. The base of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces was selected as the manufacturing and storage facility for potions due to having the size to store potions and materials and the fact that it was the safest place. After chemists in the Labyrinth City bought medicinal herbs supplied by the Merchants Guild, then dried and processed them, the herbs were transported to the Labyrinth Suppression Forces. At this point in time, the quality of the herbs was maintained at or above a defined level, but no one in the Labyrinth City was well acquainted with the quality control of such plants. If the valuable herbs were exposed to sunlight or managed in a place of improper temperature or humidity, they would immediately spoil. Caroline managed things from those kinds of quality idiosyncrasies, to inventory volume and storage periods; she was an invaluable source of assistance to the Labyrinth Suppression Forces. “Today’s tea is as delicious as ever. My, this cake has an abundance of fresh fruit.” Weishardt looked at Caroline, who smiled sweetly as she enjoyed her tea, with mixed feelings. Weishardt never thought the day would come when they would speak of things with more significance than clichéd greetings like “You look well,” or “You seem in good spirits today.” He was glad to see the woman he so longed for again today. He could no longer afford to naively trust that Caroline would be safe. Weishardt visited this room every day to confirm with his own eyes that she remained unharmed. The decision to use the Aguinas family to turn attention away from the true alchemist within the City had not been up for debate. This had made manipulating information unnecessary, as residents of the Labyrinth City, along with nobles and merchants outside the City, shifted their focus to the family that had already been managing and researching potions for a long time. However, Weishardt hadn’t intended to use Caroline as a decoy. Robert just happened to be quarantined under the pretext of “recuperation.” The plan had been to manipulate information to make people think he was the alchemist. Weishardt never imagined in his wildest dreams that Caroline would come forward. “If someone from the Aguinas family were not frequenting the Labyrinth Suppression Forces, people would begin to feel suspicious.” Caroline had a point. If she didn’t act freely in the City or go in and out of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces’ base, some folks would begin to suspect that the Forces had confined an alchemist within their structure and forced them to make potions. Inviting such needless resistance and conjecture within the City was undesirable. Especially these days, when so many were emigrating from the capital. Caroline’s choice was preferable and strategically correct for managing the Labyrinth City. But… I’m just glad she’s safe. This was why Weishardt had chosen to check in on her. To him, the fruit pastry Caroline had described as fresh was soggy, and the aroma of the black tea did little to calm his heart. Countless people had been appointed as Caroline’s escorts, and a defense system of innumerable layers had been put in place. Yet even so, Weishardt could hardly say he was confident of her guaranteed safety. He wanted to tell her to stop this dangerous activity right now and cloister herself on her estate. He wished for nothing more than for her to be secure, and at his side. But Weishardt could never say such things. Surely Caroline was here because she knew the danger she was in and whom she was protecting. “I am a daughter of the Aguinas family.” The nobility in Caroline’s declaration had so powerfully captured Weishardt’s heart. He could not bring himself to trample on such determination, such dignity. I will protect her without fail. And then… He spoke of neither his own determination nor his feelings. It wasn’t yet the time for that, and there was still much to be done. The lights the Sage of Calamity had lit penetrated the shadow of the Fell Forest, casting their glow on the once dark and unnoticed Labyrinth City. Like insects led to a flame in the night, undesirables had set their sights on the Labyrinth City and were moving ever closer.