“Grrr, again?!” Mariela shouted in anger. Sieg on the other hand was wholly content to rub his short bangs between his fingertips and enjoy the first alone time he’d had with Mariela in a while. Siegmund had caught a lot of rainy birds today. They’d been calling at the top of their lungs, signaling rain. The movement of the clouds was hidden beneath the thick dark of the night, but a strong wind blew high in the sky. A tempest would soon arrive. 04 That night. Mariela and Sieg had spent an extremely wholesome time toasting with honey lemons, taking separate baths, brushing their teeth, preparing for medicine making or hunting, and saying good night because they’d both be getting an early start again tomorrow. Edgan, the lost child of love, was crying tears of loneliness into his pillow at the Yagu Drawbridge Pavilion. Meanwhile, the unwholesome Freyja was drinking in a bar with a casual acquaintance. “Ah-ha-ha-ha! You understand, don’t you, Snapper? It’s a master’s job to raise her pupil!” “Snapper…? Ah well, no matter! If you leave something to them and they mess it up, you can just clean up after them!” Perhaps their guiding principles aligned, because the two completely hit it off with each other. Both wore hoods to hide their faces, and neither had given their name, but one knew rather quickly who they were by their characteristic words and actions. “Then let’s go, Fire!” “Yeah! Let’s march, Snapper!” And after that instant connection, they set off into the night. That was not to say that there was a crisis in Ha—Snapper’s family. Rather, they were interested in handing out some lessons, backward though they likely were to be. This was to be known as the march of the Nighttime Amusement and Messing Around Eradication Squad, newly formed by the pair of hot-blooded mentors. One might quip that they were the ones enjoying nighttime amusement and messing around, but it wouldn’t change the effects. As mentors, their affection was overflowing, and they were eager to rescue lambs lost in the night. The two members of the Nighttime Amusement and Messing Around Eradication Squad descended upon a bar and sent an unruly adventurer from the imperial capital flying with a kick after the upstart had cried, “How can these people eat monster meat?! Oy!” The squad celebrated with a few drinks. Proceeding to another tavern, they entered just as a different ruffian shouted, “Look at me—everybody in the imperial capital knows me! Hey! I’m an adventurer! Pay attention to me!” This time they knocked out a small swarm of hoodlums before knocking a few back. At yet another bar: “I, I—I—I have money, s-so, let’s, let’s, g-g-go to m-my room,” a nervous-sounding man crudely propositioned a woman. An older companion of the skittish man complained, “How can I afford a meal for my slave?! I can’t. Table scraps are plenty, plenty.” The squad lightly singed the father-son merchant duo troubling the inn owner before tipping back a few more mugs. This was how the night of educational guidance unfolded. The two members of the Nighttime Amusement and Messing Around Eradication Squad didn’t have “talks” with the little lost lambs. They were content with the notion that actions spoke louder than words. It didn’t seem likely for the squad to convene again, but in terms of sheer fighting power, its members were two of the top-ranked people in the Labyrinth City. These stunts of theirs also served as examples to others, and the City grew just a little more peaceful. It made paying for the drinks of a certain red-haired, golden eyed woman all the more worthwhile for the house of Margrave Schutzenwald. The hastily formed division was made up of an A-Ranker and an estimated S-Ranker, drunk though they were. Normally, it would’ve been extremely expensive to hire them. “That was some nice diplomacy, Fire!” “Well said, Snapper!” Snappy! Snappy! The pair exchanged a thumbs-up. Their infuriating energy caused even guards to run away from them. The two staggered into a back street where a lone man was crouched. Although it was dim, they could distinguish trash bins and wooden boxes with empty bottles as their eyes adjusted to the darkness. Even so, the two couldn’t guess as to the identity of the man. It was as if his figure were blotted out with black paint. There was more obscuring him than just the shadows of the alley. He was covered in a black, rust-like substance—it covered his entire body, and on closer inspection, it wriggled as if trembling slightly. “This’s a curse. But it’s not because he was cursed; the recoil from overusing it probably bounced back on him.” Snapper frowned. This recoil was one of the reasons curses were forbidden. Unlike other varieties of magic, curses could be used without any skills. Curses that weakened and confused people had great versatility as weapons against others, but their effects always returned to harm their users. That’s why those who practiced black magic often learned skills to counter such things. Of course, a person’s tolerance for averting, purifying, or catching curses differed from one to the next. When one’s personal limits were reached, their entire body was burned and destroyed by their own curses. Such was likely to be the case with this man in the alley. Despite the terrible risks and the prospect of surrendering completely to the black arts, there were always those who sought power no matter the price. “Mm, this curse wasn’t terribly harmful. Probably some kind of distraction- or fatigue-causing magic; the rebound seems unusually harsh.” The red-haired woman nicknamed “Fire” understood the nature of the curse at just a glance. “You know about that stuff?” the one nicknamed “Snapper” asked. “You could say that. This guy looks a bit like the relative of an old acquaintance of mine. Sorry, Snapper, but could you pretend you didn’t see this and go home for today?” Where was the drunkard who’d been barhopping just a few moments ago? Fire gazed at Snapper with clear, golden eyes. “Well, that’s a bit coldhearted of you, but there must’ve been some reason for us running into this poor man. I’ll pretend I saw nothing afterward, but I’m going to see this through with my own eyes.” He gave a snappy thumbs-up along with a dazzling white smile, a feat that was particularly curious as there was no source of light around. How did his teeth shine so brilliantly? Satisfied with Snapper’s smooth reply, Fire smiled as well and returned his gesture. Then she turned to the cursed man, held her right hand out toward him, and began to chant something in a low voice. Snapper had seen curse removal in his line of work before. He couldn’t be certain of exactly what the fiery woman with golden eyes was chanting, but Snapper knew enough to tell it was unusual. He’d never heard the spell before, but it seemed effective all the same, as the black, squirming, rust-like curse covering the man’s entire body shivered as if in the throes of death. This curse isn’t messing around. It might be the middle of the night, but it’s probably best to call the gang. But no sooner had the man thought this than… “Fire!” The lady shouted her namesake with enthusiasm, and flames enveloped the accursed man. “Wha—?!” It was quite a blaze. Could she have grown annoyed and now intended to torch the other two occupants of the alley? But in the next instant, the blaze extinguished itself as though it’d been doused, and all that remained was the man, huddled on the ground. He bore no scarring; the flame had left him and his clothes unsinged. “Ugh…” The man groaned as he opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. “This is…” It was Robert Aguinas, the man rumored to be recuperating from some unknown illness. “Hiii, Rob. I can call you Rob, right? You feel like a guy with that kinda name.” “Ugh… Who are you?” “I’m an acquaintance of the Rob from a long time ago. You really do look just like him. He treated me super-well back then, so I’ll grant you one wish.” The golden eyes of Fire…no, of the Sage of Calamity, flickered as they peered down at Robert. As if to resist the light of those hungry-looking eyes, Robert looked back with great suspicion and muttered, “You some kinda demon…?” “Who! Is a demon! You dumbass!” Poke, poke, poke. The Sage of Calamity relentlessly poked and prodded at the man’s forehead. “Ah—ow! Ow, ow, ow, ow, I said ow. I’m sorry.” Poke-poke-poke-poke, poke-poke-poke-poke. Robert didn’t know if the forehead assault would stop, even if he said it hurt and apologized. It was a fierce attack. A shower of blows. Maybe the Sage of Calamity really was some kind of demon. “H-hey, Fire, I think that’s enough…” Unable to stand by and do nothing, Snapper intervened, and the attacks finally ceased. By that time, Robert’s forehead was bright red, and the man’s eyes were full of tears. “Hah, hah, phew…” “Next time you say something stupid, I’ll kick you so hard your ass’ll break in four. You really are just like him, right down to the idiocy.” “Haaaah, I beg your pardon…” As expected from the fiery master. Despite her less than exceptional alchemy skills, there were reasons Freyja chose “master” as her main job. Robert grew obedient like a scolded child in the face of such heated pressure from the mysterious woman. It may have been the first moment the Nighttime Amusement and Messing Around Eradication Squad did something resembling actual guidance. “Well? You gonna run? You were searching for a way to sneak back to your house, right?” “!!! How did you…?!” A certain unexpected request had come to Robert as he sat in confinement under the guise of “rehabilitation.” It was to dress up as a shaman and put a fake curse on the “treasure” of the “spirit shrine.” He’d accepted the request with an admirable attitude and was plucked from his place of solitude. On his way back to detention after completing his task, Robert had waited for the moment when his escorts dropped their guard for even the slightest second. The second they did, he’d used smokescreen and fatigue curses to make an escape. They weren’t especially harmful; Robert had only used them to regain his freedom. However, as one might’ve expected of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces, the curses required to befuddle them were beyond the poor man’s limits. Robert did indeed escape, only to suffer the rebounding effects of his own black magic and wind up here in the alley. What kind of person was this woman who had so easily purified such a powerful curse? Even if she wasn’t a demon, there was no way she was an ordinary person. Even if one set all that aside, the truth about Robert’s condition, as well as all matters concerning the spirit shrine, had been top secret. Those golden eyes could tell not only that Robert was on the run, but even what his objective had been. Robert pondered if he was about to be offered some sort of infernal deal. Even if he was, he had little recourse but to accept. If it would fulfill his objective, he would do it, even if his body burned for the decision. That’s what he’d decided the moment he’d gotten mixed up in curses and this heretical magic medicine. “Please, grant my request. Give me power.” Robert bowed down to the flickering Sage of Calamity before him. “Very well. This will hurt, but it’ll guide you to your destination, unseen.” With a whoosh, hot air blew upward and swept the sage’s hood off her head. The flame-colored hair that appeared from within was like a fire that had burst from the dark. “I grant you an emblem. Ephemeral wisdom, I summon you from beyond. Bestow Flame Seal.” Flames in the shape of a magic circle emerged before her. After a half rotation, it shrank to the size of a fist, and seared itself into the back of Robert’s left hand. “Gaaah!” Robert grimaced at the acute pain and the unpleasant smell of burnt flesh. “Don’t worry. That burn’ll disappear completely in about a week, along with its effects. Ah, Snapper, do you mind if I borrow some money?” “Uh? Sure, I only have about five silver coins, though.” The startled Snapper…no, the Adventurers Guild guildmaster Haage, handed his wallet over to the Sage of Calamity. I’ve seen a lot of wonders in my line of work, but this one might be in a whole different league… Haage was so stunned, he offered the entirety of his spending money, and the Sage of Calamity happily helped herself to its contents. “Hey, Rob. I’m sure you’re broke, right? I’ll lend you this. Be sure to remember that nighttime amusements have a high price.” Although it was money she’d borrowed from Haage, the Sage of Calamity offered it with a degree of self-importance, as if the money was her own. After receiving the silver coins from the red-haired woman, Robert bowed his head very deeply and took a few steps backward before melting into the darkness of the street. “His very presence disappeared. What’s that seal do?” “Meh, y’know, normal stuff. But the fact that he mastered it so quickly after it was carved into him shows he’s as skillful as the Rob I once knew.” The Sage of Calamity chuckled. As the Adventurers Guild guildmaster, Haage indeed knew of this fiery woman, along with her cooperation with Margrave Schutzenwald, her unfathomable abilities, and the warning to never be hostile to her. However, wasn’t helping the “recuperating” Robert Aguinas escape an act of hostility toward Margrave Schutzenwald, or even to the entire Labyrinth City? “Why that seal?” Haage would not overlook anything that boded ill for the safety of the City. “Isn’t it the duty of a mentor to make sure poor lost children who run away from home return safely?” The fiery sage grinned as though she understood it all. Is she really doing this to rehabilitate Robert Aguinas? The true intentions of the smiling blaze were indiscernible, but the guildmaster sensed no malice or hostility. “Then I suppose I’ll put my trust in you, Fire.” “Nice. Leave it to me, Snapper.” The pair exchanged snappy farewells and returned to their respective homes. The next day. “I’m really sorry my master borrowed money! I gave her a thorough scolding!” Mariela had come to the Adventurers Guild to pay back the borrowed coins and apologize in earnest. Behind her stood Fire, yesterday’s partner in crime, who waved cheerfully. Mariela turned her head and chided, “Master! What are you doing?!” Haage, who had lent all the money he’d had on hand, had put in a request at home for a supplementary budget. However, his wife, the house’s own minister of finance, had rejected his request, so this recompense was a big to help to the man. Similarly, his subordinates had caught word of his exploits in the various bars and taverns last evening, and today they’d confined him to desk work first thing in the morning. The man seemed very near death from the task. Casting a glance at Freyja, who laughed as if to say “Yeah, I got in some trouble, heh,” Haage felt uneasy. He wondered if it was really okay to trust her. Haage’s subordinates had scolded him, too. “If you’ve got time to go barhopping, you should work more!” they’d said. Haage wasn’t sure. Freyja seemed ignorant of the situation, simply thinking Robert was a troubled adult who’d run away from home and was having difficulties getting back. In her imprudence she’d given the fugitive an advanced seal, thinking he would make it home unnoticed by anyone around him and simply say, “Hmm? Why, no, I didn’t run away.” Mariela had deduced to whom her master was indebted when Freyja had proudly proclaimed, “Hey, I borrowed money! Snappy! No idea from who!” and gave a thumbs-up. Mariela being who she was, she had not the slightest clue where Freyja had been wandering in the middle of the night, or what on earth she’d been doing. As for Robert, who had been given a seal to fool the eyes of others… “Before this seal disappears, before this life is extinguished, no matter what it takes…” After receiving a miracle in exchange for his life, Robert proceeded to weave his way through the darkness of the Labyrinth City, en route to achieve his final objective. 05 Inns within the Labyrinth City took a variety of forms. Most of them were connected to a restaurant or bar, and adventurers crowded them in the evenings to the point where their collected voices reached up into the guests’ rooms. Most adventurers and merchants stayed at taverns, pricked up their ears at conversations around them, talked with their employees, and gathered information about hunting grounds and materials being sold at nearby markets. Of course, no small number of those staying for a long period of time disliked this kind of boisterous noise, so there were also facilities with a manager at the entrance, or those that operated strictly as inns only. If you didn’t ring the bell, you wouldn’t even meet the manager at those kinds of places. They charged extra to clean your room and change your sheets, and no employees entered the room while someone was staying there. Such a system was closer to renting an apartment than temporary lodging. At one such inn, several people had gathered in a somewhat cramped room. “The circumstances are ripe. It will be carried out tomorrow.” The figure that stood in the darkness to avoid the dim light had such a weak presence that, if they hadn’t spoken, one would think them a shadow. The same was true for near everyone present, excepting a lone man who sat on the bed. Their outfits and harsh words in a foreign dialect hardly painted the bunch as a group of respectable adventurers. “There will be no changes to the plan.” The man sitting on the bed was their leader or, more likely, an employer, if his tone and the feeling of distance between him and the others was any indication. Despite the decision, the man looked around restlessly while he chewed his nails. It seemed to one of the shadow men that his employer was wavering on his own plan. The shadow man, exasperated at his employer’s foolishness, made a final confirmation of the details. “The target is…” “Yes, and one more person…” “Understood. I’ll do my utmost to capture them alive.” “I’ll be in trouble if you just do ‘your utmost.’ I don’t care what happens, don’t kill ’em! After that, track down the vault and get rid of it! You can do that, right? I’m paying you a lot o’ money here!” “I understand. However, don’t forget I have the first pick.” The shadow men were top-notch; the employer had made certain to gather only those with the ability to fulfill his request. However, he had changed the plan countless times and created needless work for them in the process. The hired shadows had very nearly run dry of patience, but they had to confirm one last thing. “I have one last question. Just what kind of person is your target?” At this, the employer sitting on the bed looked in the direction of the speaker for the first time as he answered. “An alchemist.” In an instant, the shadow men vanished from the room. They were off to carry out their mission. 06 “If you want to move people, you should convince them they’re on the verge of a crisis.” Anyone in a position of leadership learned that at a young age. The family of Margrave Schutzenwald made skillful use of this sense of impending crisis and the influence it had over others. After employing it to lead the Labyrinth City and its surrounding territories, they were well educated on the method’s intricacies. One could say the family led the will of the people and had built a solid cooperative system by skillfully sharing information, depending on another’s position and influence, about the dangers of the Labyrinth that could affect the entire Empire. People satisfied with their circumstances didn’t want change. That was human instinct. So, even if potions were put on the market in the Labyrinth City and the potential for traffic through the Fell Forest increased, satisfied people were unlikely to act in the uncertain initial stages. That was not to say folks were unprepared; they readied themselves to get going at any time. No doubt they were just observing the situation for now. In other words, one could speculate that the mass influx of visitors to the Labyrinth City was because everyone had some sort of pressing matter. It could’ve been a financial or emotional reason, or something else entirely; what drove them was probably different for each person. This new economic bridge called “potions” existed, but it was yet to be seen just how sturdy a bridge it would be. Not all those motivated to cross were doing so calmly. Many people, both inside the Labyrinth City and outside, sought potions, but things hadn’t settled into a comfortable routine yet. If they were simply patient, a defined system of administration could be established. The potion-seeking masses bustled about Caroline’s surroundings again today like insects swarming a lamp in the evening. Countless bugs, all hurrying to snatch up potions before someone else did. In the morning Caroline would leave the Aguinas family estate for the pest-control dumplings atelier. Afterward, she’d head for the base of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces. By the time evening had arrived, she would return to the estate by carriage. Such was Caroline’s daily routine. It was information that proved easy enough for anyone to gather after a few days of observation. The ruffians targeting her were either squabbling among themselves, or they were cooperating and merely waiting for the right chance. Regarding his unseen enemies as though they were pieces on a board, Weishardt eagerly lay in wait for an impatient insect to leap into the lamp. “Reporting in! The Aguinas family’s pest-control dumpling manufacturing atelier was attacked.” The report brought to Weishardt was as startling as a thunderclap reverberating from low-hanging dark clouds. However, the man had long been watching the sky. He’d predicted this, so surprise wasn’t merited. In the days to come, he would later think back on the moment this report was delivered as the lightning strike before the torrential rain began. “What’s the situation?” “The assailants were a group of three who appeared to be D-Rankers. A merchant who happened to be present and four escort adventurers were taken hostage. According to Lieutenant Malraux’s report, they were either acting independently or were hired underlings. Requesting permission to invite the slave trader, Mr. Reymond, for questioning, due to his expertise.” “Permission granted. Get to it.” Weishardt allowed himself a glance at the soldier, who’d given his report and was now leaving, before returning his attention to his documents. As always, Weishardt maintained a well-controlled expression that showed not the slightest bit of discomposure. He’d figured out there had been people prowling around the pest-control dumplings atelier starting a few days ago. He’d expected them to make a move before too long. Both the attack and the subjugation went as he predicted; there was no reason to be surprised. He’d directed Malraux to make a flashy show of strength, and with that, the atelier’s surroundings would probably grow quiet again before long. However, as Weishardt reached for his cup of black tea, his break was interrupted before he’d even had a chance to enjoy the aroma coming from the cup. “Reporting in! We received word from the Aguinas family’s escorts! An anonymous group attacked the Aguinas house not long ago. The situation has been quelled and all responsible have been apprehended.” “Could the attack on the atelier have been a diversion? Don’t be afraid to rough them up a little. Make them tell you everything.” “Yes, sir! Should we call Dr. Nierenberg?” “Do as you like.” Cup still in hand, Weishardt remained as icy as ever, even after the second startling report in a row. However, his subordinates had served under him long enough to know him, and they sensed a slight anger showing through the man’s facade. They proposed a sound interrogation method, then rushed out of the room as soon as they received permission. Organized abduction was also among my predictions. They were all captured alive. We’ll know who the principal offender is before long. Weishardt returned the cup and saucer to the desk without taking a sip. Caroline’s welfare hadn’t been discussed during his exchanges with the soldiers. Weishardt understood it wasn’t worth reporting if she was safe. Even so, it tore at his heart. Although Caroline was fine, the fact that someone targeting her had planned and executed an attack hit Weishardt hard. It was a flash of lightning cutting through the darkness, thunder that pierced his eardrums. Weishardt glanced at the surface of his cooling tea. He hadn’t even taken a sip of it yet. The man then issued another order to one of his attendants. “Announce that I will be making a visit.” “Sir!” At Weishardt’s brief command, the attendant sensed where he needed to go and ran ahead to give notice of his lord’s visit. The attendant’s destination was on the premises of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces’ base. It was the only relatively high-class building on the premises and had been built as a lodging house for high officials and a facility to welcome honored guests. The estate, built close to the main entrance of the base, had a lot of soldier foot traffic, and you’d be hard-pressed to call it quiet. That meant it was safe, and it was close enough that Weishardt’s office looked out on it. The attendant had apparently returned from making the announcement while Weishardt tidied his hair a bit, as his ears caught the footfalls of someone running through the corridor. He does not have to hurry quite that much. He’s been reading into my emotions too much lately…, Weishardt thought while straightening his collar. Suddenly, the attendant burst into the room without knocking. “Th…the guesthouse has been attacked!” “What?! What of Carol—Lady Caroline?!” “We were unable to confirm her whereabouts…!!!” Crash! Weishardt broke into a run toward the guesthouse before his chair had even hit the ground; he’d knocked it over when he jumped to his feet. No one, not even those who had served under Weishardt for years, had ever seen him with the expression he was wearing now. “Blockade the base’s gate and find the intruders! Post men at the Labyrinth City’s outer gate! Don’t let anyone leave the City! Call the intelligence unit back from the Labyrinth and get them searching the streets! Question the captured assailants now! Don’t let the intruders get away!” The one issuing instructions to the Labyrinth Suppression Forces in rapid succession wasn’t Weishardt, but rather Leonhardt, who’d also heard the news, and had come running. Weishardt tortured the captured assailants, but he wasn’t getting any information out of them. He chewed his lip and clenched his fists so tightly they started to bleed. Leonhardt did his best to assuage his troubled brother. “Calm down a bit; this isn’t like you. Clear your head,” Leonhardt clapped Weishardt on the shoulder, and ordered the Forces to put the Labyrinth City on high alert. Who could’ve done this…? Who the hell was it?! Weishardt thought back on the people who had come to the Labyrinth City after potions had become available on the market. A lot of rough-looking C-Rank and below adventurers had come to the City recently. Day after day, Weishardt received reports of the trouble they caused. It was said many groups of merchants had visited from the imperial capital and the neighboring towns, too. Although monster-warding potions were available, the trip was still a frightening one, and traders traveled through the Fell Forest guarded by a more than a few escorts. Weishardt also knew that craftsmen with manufacturing skills, led by glass artisans, also traveled with merchants or private transportation groups like the Black Iron Freight Corps to the Labyrinth City. There had been many new residents as of late, and it was impossible to investigate the behavior of every single one, but the Forces had been expected to make absolutely sure to have a firm understanding of the developing situation regarding those prowling around the Aguinas family. That’s why they were able to predict and suppress today’s attacks on the atelier and the Aguinas residence without any problems. Just in case, Caroline and her father, Royce, had been secluded in the guesthouse within the base of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces for the past few days. Could they have had a man on the inside? Few knew where Caroline was staying in the first place. Even during the days she’d been hidden there, a carriage carrying someone else in her place left the Aguinas house at her usual time to go to the atelier, then the base. No one other than residents extremely familiar with the Labyrinth City should have noticed. We took good care of the main noble families in the Labyrinth City. I don’t see any advantage for them to antagonize us at this point in time… Could it be Robert? He escaped after all? But the recoil from those curses should’ve left him broken and useless. Even if he’d managed to avoid the effects of his curses, what would he gain from kidnapping his younger sister? Who could it have been? The man’s mind was a squall of poorly arranged thoughts that left him with no definite suspect. Even if Robert had run clear across the City, it wasn’t logical to assume he’d find Caroline. However, Caroline was the daughter of a noble family. Simply being taken by such a ruffian would be enough to mar her reputation. Soldiers of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces had already run to the Labyrinth City gates and were calling members together to resolve the situation, but with the strict control of information, only a few knew the details of the abduction. They needed to somehow rescue the kidnapped woman before rumors had the chance to run rampant. Every second that passed in vain was a second too many. However, the arrival of another messenger threw the impatient Weishardt into further chaos. “Reporting in! Mr. Kunz Marrock from the Rock Wheel Autonomous Region seeks an audience. He has already departed from his territory and is scheduled to arrive the day after tomorrow!” “Marrock, you say? Why now…? No, I know precisely why.” The Rock Wheel Autonomous Region was a city of dwarves located to the northwest of the Labyrinth City. It was the first city yagu merchant caravans reached when crossing the steep mountains. The place was a remote area that took one week of travel by yagu to reach, following the steep mountain road out from the Labyrinth City. It took three weeks from the imperial capital, one week of which was through a mountain road that was impossible for carriages to cross. Dwarves had gathered there due to the region’s abundant ore veins. Though those veins didn’t yield rare metals like orichalcum, they were full of iron and mythril. There was a wealth of other metals and water to be found as well. Moreover, monsters were a common sight on those mountains. However, the land was infertile, so food consisted only of meat and potatoes, and because entertainment was even harder to come by than in the Labyrinth City, it was an empty place that normal people couldn’t stand for very long. But for the dwarves, who were happy so long as they got to drink alcohol and strike iron, it was a pleasant enough home. The Rock Wheel Autonomous Region was also a place rumored by young, poor adventurers to be where one could obtain high-quality swords on the cheap. However, information on fantastic swords for fantastically little coin was rather outdated. Nowadays, the region flourished as a place of production, putting out high-quality weapons and armor made from the abundant minerals and rare monster materials. The prosperity of the Rock Wheel Autonomous Region was probably due in part to the regular visits of yagu merchant caravans from the Labyrinth City. The caravans carried materials from the Labyrinth and goods from the imperial capital, bringing a previously unseen level of prosperity to the inhospitable mountains. There was one other party responsible for the land’s accomplishments. The successive generations of half-dwarf lords who governed the region and managed the buying and selling of weapons and armor. You could tell from the fact that they lived in such a remote region that dwarves took joy in crafting and had the spirits of true artisans. The desire to make truly fine works was what guided them, they had no interest in the failed creations they made along the way. So they processed any failures back into crushed materials, or sold them for dirt cheap, if anyone was willing to make an offer. Even when peddling superior works that would sell for a small fortune in the imperial city, dwarves took little heed of money, caring only for what they needed to support their supply of drink. These were a people hardly suited for business. That was not to say they were stupid. No amount of an artisan’s spirit blinded them from noticing when a merchant came from the imperial capital, exchanged cheap alcohol for crafts they considered to be failures, and then sold those works in the imperial capital at a high price. However, despite knowing they had leeway in negotiations, the only complaints they raised were things like “I wanna try some alcohol that’s a little better than this.” Even in trivial arbitrations, they had difficulty swaying another party. Dwarves had a characteristic sensitivity to and were extremely sharp in matters related to craftsmanship, but they were wholly unsuited for debate and business. That is, so long as they were pure-blooded dwarves. The one who saved them was a lone half dwarf. This man, who possessed both the disposition of a dwarf and a strong sense of commerce, united his people, traded their failed creative works at appropriate prices, and quickly became the lord of the autonomous region. Curiously, if a person’s dwarven blood ran too thin, their thoughts wouldn’t align well with full-blooded dwarves, and if their human blood was too thin, they couldn’t skillfully handle matters of business or diplomacy. That’s why the lords of the Rock Wheel Autonomous Region weren’t chosen by lineage, but rather by who demonstrated the best balance in these regards. The head of those half dwarves, and the current lord of the region, was Kunz Marrock. He was possessed of the greatest cunning found among his kind in generations. It took a week to travel from the Rock Wheel Autonomous Region to the Labyrinth City. By the time the City received notice of his visit, his planned arrival was only two days away. This meant he had set out without sending the notice first. The Rock Wheel Autonomous Region had maintained interactions with the Labyrinth City as an encampment site for yagu merchant caravans for over two hundred years. Unannounced though his visit may have been, it was impossible for Leonhardt and Weishardt not to give the man an audience. Why now? That was probably obvious. If people could now use monster-warding potions to go through the Fell Forest, the number of yagu merchant caravans passing through the Rock Wheel Autonomous Region would drop precipitously. For the dwarves, the launch of potion sales was something they couldn’t overlook. Could it really have been Rock Wheel that did it? No. Master Marrock is a man with an unreadable heart, but his troops are all dwarves. They’d be too easily recognized. They’re also not particularly sneaky folk, either… Leonhardt placed his hand on his flustered younger brother’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Weis. Kidnapping normally has a purpose. Miss Caroline won’t be harmed right away. We’ll sort all of this out.” After reassuring his kin, Leonhardt requested the messenger to provide the details. 07 Caroline’s atelier on the edge of the slums had been attacked in the early morning, when the Aguinas family’s carriage arrived. Since more than half of the atelier’s lot was used for the manufacturing building and the material storehouse, only two carriages could fit in at one time. The stagecoach was always escorted by another of its kind from the Labyrinth Suppression Forces, but there had been an unexpected visitor today. This meant that only the Aguinas carriage was able to enter the atelier’s rear yard. While the stagecoach entered, its chaperone waited outside in a location that wouldn’t block the back street. Naturally, the soldiers on board disembarked and headed for the atelier on foot. Before they could make it through the gate, however, it was closed by the assailants who jumped from their hiding place within the atelier’s grounds. They were three thin men equipped with cheap weapons and armor. Their worn equipment looked ready for the scrap heap. Judging by their movements, the assailants appeared to be adventurers of roughly D Rank. They’d lain in wait for their quarry in the yard, and as soon as the Aguinas family’s carriage entered, they’d sprung their trap; barring the way for the guards. They were probably trying to take Caroline hostage, hoping to make demands for her safe release. “Get them! Bring those guys down!” “Awright, but you’d better pay us, Mr. Merchant!” People raised their voices faster than the assailants laid their hands on the Aguinas carriage. The one who issued the order to take control of the situation wasn’t a soldier struggling to break through the back gate of the atelier, nor was it the Aguinas family’s coachman. It was a merchant who’d just happened to be there for a discussion of trade. Four well-equipped bodyguards leaped from the merchant’s own wagon. They had good physiques, and you could tell at a glance that they were stronger than the assailants. Swords were drawn, and the bodyguards slashed freely at the attackers. The difference in rank was plain as day. Against the thin, ill-equipped, roughly D-Rank assailants, the escorts had the advantage, being around C Rank themselves. Even if they didn’t kill the attackers, the difference in combat ability was such that the bodyguards could thoroughly neutralize them. The merchant’s hired swordsmen were clearly eager for blood. “E-eek, no!” “Shaddap and die quietly.” The fearsome escorts swung their swords down at the assailants and easily struck and broke their weapons. Then they raised their swords again to cut down their opponents, but the Aguinas carriage’s doors opened just a few seconds before they could. It was unknown how many people were clearly aware of what happened in the moment after the carriage doors opened. The figure who charged out at the same time the doors opened closed the distance between himself and the assailants so quickly that they hadn’t even noticed. This new combatant used the sheath of his saber to knock out every last person with a drawn blade. Just as did the assailant closest to the back gate heard the distant sounds of the strikes, he saw the other assailants and the escorts alike knocked to the ground by someone in green attire and sporting wavy blond hair. The next instant, that same person had appeared in front of him, and everything went black. “I… I’m saved…,” the assailant mumbled right before he lost consciousness. The blond man had taken total control of the situation all by himself. He frowned. “Well done, Lord Malraux.” Malraux’s orderly, Rhet, had been riding in the Aguinas family’s carriage along with him, and he rushed over to take orders. Taros, the soldier slave, opened the back gate and led the soldiers from the other carriage into the rear yard. They had obtained information in advance about the merchant they’d never interacted with and the lurking assailants. The Aguinas family’s carriage was a decoy; Malraux and the others were there in Caroline’s place, and their counterplan went off without a hitch. The attempted crime had been so clumsy that it seemed almost unnecessary for Malraux to personally be present. “Rhet, question everyone. Including the merchant and his escorts. Request Mr. Reymond’s assistance for the three assailants. Refrain from treating them roughly.” At Malraux’s orders, the soldiers moved to restrain the would-be kidnappers, the adventurers who’d tried to stop them, and the merchant. “Wha—? We have nothing to do with this, I’m completely innocent in this matter!” “We…w-we h-have to…return to the…i-i-i-i-imperial capital.” The hunched-over merchant and a man thought to be his son were ordered to get out of their carriage. They demanded to be released, saying they’d just happened to be visiting the workshop for business negotiations. Despite their protests, however, they were swiftly taken to a detention room with a dismissive comment: “Cooperate with the Labyrinth Suppression Forces.” “That’s the end of the report from Lieutenant Malraux! Furthermore, his opinion is that they either acted independently or were hired, but with no connection to a large organization.” The messenger had recounted the events with excessive detail. It took no small amount of time, and as Weishardt was made to listen to the needless information, there was a growing unpleasantness about the man that seemed to chill the air around them. “Next! A brief summary this time!” As the superior, Weishardt started to lecture a rookie soldier who was unused to giving reports. Leonhardt shot a quick, but no less meaningful, look at his oddly behaving brother. Weishardt promptly silenced himself and listened intently. “Sir! A summary of the attack on the Aguinas estate! The aggressors were thought to be C to B Rank and coordinated enough to be part of a professional criminal organization! They were brought in by the mixed force of third- and seventh-unit soldiers that had been hiding nearby. All hostiles were captured! At present, we haven’t been able to obtain any information on the mastermind behind the incident! May we call Dr. Nierenberg to assist?” Dick was captain of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces’ third unit, and an A-Rank mage was captain of the seventh. The group that had attacked the Aguinas house seemed to be skilled, but they’d been up against two A-Rankers. They were subjugated without difficulty. In truth, the drama of the arrest was so absurd that Weishardt would find it irritating. The message carrier had sensed the man’s unpleasant disposition and omitted anything but the necessary facts, an exemplary adherence to instructions. “Have Nierenberg engage in the questioning. I permit the use of potions as well! Make them tell you everything.” “Sir!” Wasn’t a questioning that used potions akin to torture? Without letting his concern about the methods show on his face, the courier soldier ran off to find Nierenberg. “Next! I want to know the situation at the base’s guesthouse!” An attendant of Weishardt’s, the first person on the scene, responded to his command. “Sir! When I arrived at the guesthouse, everyone within was in a stupor! All were unhurt, save for one person unaccounted for. Those present are recovering comfortably. Lord Royce is safe as well. There was no sign of a break-in at the guesthouse! I was told they were all subjected to a powerful drowsiness after their morning tea, so we’re requesting an investigation by the scout unit. We suspect the use of sleeping pills!” “There were no other clues as to the culprit?!” “Correct, sir! Unfortunately. A magical probe yielded no evidence, either…” “Are you really saying there wasn’t a single clue?!” Bam! Weishardt brought his fist down on the desk. The soldiers’ expressions darkened at their commander’s shout. These were the elite of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces, men and women well used to suffering angry shouts and the like. Feeble hearts that quivered before cruel words were ill suited to their line of work. A furious yell was as soft as a gentle breeze compared to the regular shrieks and cries of monsters. It wasn’t Weishardt’s bellow itself that had caused his soldiers to scowl so. Rather, they were upset that their own inability had caused a man normally possessed of no emotion to express this much anger. “Calm yourself, Weis. Retire to your room for a while.” “But, Brother…” “That’s an order.” “Understood…” Leonhardt calmly ordered his flustered younger brother to compose himself. He understood Weishardt’s feelings very well. He even considered it a welcome change, given how Weishardt had suppressed all emotions. He had even grown to accept the deaths of his subordinates without so much as a flinch. However, Leonhardt knew that was not the time for his brother to show such feelings to those that served him. There were soldiers who laid down their lives on the orders of Leonhardt or Weishardt. That’s how it had been and how it would continue to be, for the sake of the Empire, the lands of Margrave Schutzenwald, the Labyrinth City, the people living in that city, and each soldier’s special someone. No matter how just the cause they touted, no matter how much they dressed it up with gallant and noble words, Leonhardt and Weishardt were the ones who ordered the soldiers into their graves. Each guardsman had a life, a person they loved, a heart. Those who would command them to throw that all away could not afford to be swayed by emotion. Other than the slaves, everyone in the Labyrinth Suppression Forces had freely volunteered for their positions. The Labyrinth City had few jobs to choose from, but that didn’t mean anyone had been forced to join the Forces. The soldiers had chosen their own path, how to walk upon it, and came here. Leonhardt, and Weishardt who supported him, had a duty to each one of those irreplaceable people they’d been entrusted with. “Weis, don’t forget the importance of what we hold in our hands.” Leonhardt hoped the meaning of his words would reach his brother. Weishardt clenched his teeth tightly. A moment later, his facial expression returned to its usual placidity, and he quietly withdrew to his office. “Continue the search. Bring to light all information on suspicious people within the City.” At Leonhardt’s command, the members of the Forces, as well as any others who witnessed the brief exchange between the brothers, hurried to their respective tasks with dauntless expressions, looking as though they were ready to face a fearsome beast from the depths of the lowest stratum. 08 Following the attack on Caroline’s atelier, Malraux entrusted the cleanup to members of the Forces, and hurried to the base with his orderly, Rhet, and his soldier slave, Taros. According to the information Malraux had obtained, the Aguinas estate—where Dick and the others had been heading—was attacked at almost the exact same time. The group at the workshop had been poorly prepared, and it reeked of a distraction. Dick had said something didn’t feel quite right about the group that had attacked the villa, either. There was no clear evidence, of course, but Dick’s intuition wasn’t something to be sneezed at. If both incidents were diversions, where was the main force? Malraux could think of only one logical conclusion. I’ve got to hurry… It was in situations such as these that Malraux’s communication skills truly shone. Needless to say, the ability to make telepathic contact with distant comrades was beyond convenient. Dashing, the man made his way swiftly darting through the back alleys of the slums in order to reach the Labyrinth Suppression Forces’ base as soon as possible. The shanty where the pest-control dumplings atelier was stationed was not developed with any sort of eye for city planning. Its lanes were made up of complex, narrow passages. When one knew the way, however, it proved quicker to reach the Labyrinth Suppression Forces’ base by running through these crisscrossing streets than to go by carriage along the main street. Rhet’s and Taros’s physical abilities weren’t as high as Malraux’s, and although the two frantically followed him as best they could, Malraux held no qualms about leaving them behind if they could not keep up. The distance between the leader and his two followers steadily widened, all the more so when they reached a narrow straight. Thud. Before Malraux could say “I’m going on ahead,” Rhet and Taros wordlessly pitched forward onto the ground. “What’s wrong?!” Each of them had a short, dart-sized arrow protruding from their back. Thankfully, they were still breathing; their bodies had not completely stopped moving. Blowguns?! And poison, too…? This was a wholly different kind of attack than the one at the atelier. Grasping the situation in an instant, Malraux jumped in front of the motionless Rhet and Taros, pulled his saber from its scabbard, and stood ready for the poison arrows that were undoubtedly being trained on him. We were followed… No, did they lure us into this alley? Malraux hadn’t seen the trajectory of the arrows that had struck Rhet and Taros. However, the projectiles themselves gave a clue as to the direction they’d been loosed from. This was a straight path. If the unseen attacker shot another arrow, Malraux would be ready for it with swift feet. He would likely be able to ascertain the enemy’s exact location and move to counterattack. The next poison arrow cut through the air with a whistling sound. So slight was the noise, it wouldn’t have reached the ears of an average man in time. Thankfully, the metal of the arrowhead had caught the light, and Malraux was able to spot the sniper’s hiding spot without much trouble. There! Parrying the poisoned arrow that was speeding toward him, Malraux was about to start toward the assassin. Suddenly, Taros the soldier slave rose to his feet and moved like he was going to shield Malraux from behind. Taros?! What are you—? The instant Malraux looked behind Taros, he suddenly understood everything. After hurling his saber at the assassin who’d fired the poison arrow, Malraux turned back toward Taros. The slave had been ordered to sacrifice himself to shield Malraux in an emergency. A second poison arrow found its way to the large man whom Malraux had treated with indifference. Undaunted, Taros remained standing in front of his master to shield him from further harm. Slipping past the slave, Malraux unsheathed the sword from Taros’s waist and cut down the third arrow shot by a second assassin, then very easily rushed up a wall where the rocks had come loose. With the speed of the wind, Taros’s sword was at the throat of the second assassin, who’d been lurking at the back of the building. “It’s over. You will come with me to the Labyrinth Suppression Forces,” Malraux proclaimed. The attacks on the atelier and the Aguinas estate had happened at almost the same time. The notion there was someone behind each of the incidents was no great leap of logic. There had been two assassins. They probably contrived to perform a pincer attack by firing poison arrows from behind Malraux in this narrow, straight path while his attention was to his front. Taros saved my life… If the valiant man hadn’t noticed the poison arrow aimed at Malraux’s back when he did, Malraux might have been the one on the ground right now. In the brief moment of worry Malraux expressed for his slave, the assassin lunged forward onto the sword in Malraux’s hand, ending his own life. “What the devil…?” The soldiers, adventurers, and even wannabe-bandits-turned-slaves living in the Labyrinth City coveted life. Even if they failed in their duty, even if they were seriously injured, death was hardly the preferable option. Whoever staged this attack worked with a completely different set of principles. The saber Malraux had thrown had pierced and killed the first assassin. He wondered if perhaps this had been a separate force, different from the groups who had attacked the atelier and Aguinas estate, but there was no way to know now. Corpses could not be interrogated. If Malraux had been attacked, that meant the base sheltering the alchemist was most likely also… “We must hurry to the base. Come with me and don’t fall behind.” Malraux gave Rhet and Taros a cure potion each, and the two quickly recovered. He hurried to the base, accompanied by his two subordinates. 09 “Fire! Over there, too, Fire! And then over here, Fire!” In the middle of the confusion at the base, Freyja began shouting indiscriminately at every suspicious person she saw. “State your business! Fire!” It was a performance worthy of her title as the Sage of Calamity. “What happened today, Mitchell? You lot let a man trespass all the way into the underground area and I almost torched him to cinders on reflex.” “Lady Freyja, please forgive us. We will arrest all the intruders and make them tell us who they work for.” Mitchell courteously bowed his curly head, but his nervous sweat told a different story than his calm exterior. Right before the attack, the young lady alchemist had been making potions with reckless abandon and then plunged into nap time, while Freyja had been drinking with reckless abandon and then plunged into stroll time. Up to that point, the day had been no different from any other. However, after leaving the temporary lab established in the base’s cellar and heading through the underground passage for a little while, Freyja had turned toward a soldier who had come to transport potions and suddenly loosed her fire magic. “What! What are you…?!” “Look carefully. Do you recognize his face? He’s an intruder. He’ll come to his senses before long. Tie him up.” The fire pillar engulfing the intruder immediately vanished, and just as Freyja had said, the person who appeared from the blaze was someone Mitchell had never seen before. Mitchell thought the impostor had been consumed by the crimson heat, but his clothes and hair were only a touch singed. Despite the smoke coming from his mouth, the man’s life didn’t appear to be in mortal danger. Mitchell didn’t know how Freyja did it; perhaps she wrapped him in a fire pillar to suffocate him into unconsciousness. Very few should know of this place. And he’s wearing a Labyrinth Suppression Forces uniform… After Mitchell ordered the two soldiers who rushed in to restrain the intruder, suspend the transport of potions, and fortify the alchemist’s escort, he had someone who’d been attending Freyja go report the situation and gather information. “Mitchell. Do you enjoy hunting?” Freyja smiled sweetly. Although she was a dazzlingly beautiful woman, her smile seemed to Mitchell like that of a carnivorous animal eyeing its prey. Freyja’s metaphor was in poor taste, but she didn’t seem to have a grotesque plan in mind. All three of the intruders in the vicinity of the atelier and medicinal herb storehouse were captured alive. The last one had concealed their presence so inconspicuously that even Mitchell hadn’t noticed them. Freyja hadn’t had that problem, however. “And now, Fire!” Normally, the fiery woman would probably have been all too eager to hunt down intruders throughout the base. However, after confirming the area around the atelier was safe, she returned to where Mariela was sleeping. 10 When Mariela awoke, she was on a couch set beside the fireplace in the living room of Sunlight’s Canopy. Huh? When did I make it back here? The couch in the living room was soft and comfortable to sleep on. Her reserves of magical power had been completely restored, but she wanted to lie like this for a little while longer. Mariela had made huge splurges on the house, so even though it was summer, the building was kept cool and comfortable via a magical tool for cooling air attached to a magical tool for ventilation. The tools consumed magical gems relentlessly, but the ground under Mariela’s feet might as well have been paved with gold coins, so she didn’t need to worry about that. Actually, the magical gems Sieg collected while hunting covered it, so Mariela hardly had to spend any money. The life of a socialite is the bessst. That was Mariela for you. She didn’t understand how to use the word socialite, nor was she terribly satisfied with her life. It was like a certain guildmaster somewhere who said things like “I’m gonna blow off some steam from today’s work!” while having only cold beer and snacks for dinner. Come to think of it, there was an adventurer having beer and bread in a sandwich shop near the Labyrinth not too long ago. It was probably around lunchtime. The sandwich shop was famous, yet the old adventurer had been eating plain bread with no ham or veggies between it. The food was not even dressed up with cheese or butter. Just beer and bread. If he could afford to drink, the man could surely afford some beef or ham, even soup. Yet for some reason, that adventurer had been satisfied with cheap bread and beer. I wonder if he was having beer with a side of bread, or bread with a side of beer. Since it was a liquid, maybe it was a substitute for soup? That sure was an incredibly unbalanced lunch. Mariela’s blissful thoughts faded into the fogs of sleep as she muttered, “I don’t really understand the minds of drinkers.” The voice of the girl’s master, and that of another, woke the young alchemist. Buildings in the Labyrinth City had small windows and poor breathability. That’s why every house was equipped with a magical tool for ventilation, and air pipes ran above the ceiling. In the case of Sunlight’s Canopy, if the magical tool for air cooling was used only in the shop and the living room, voices in the corridor could be heard all the way in the living room for some reason. “Well? What happened, Mitchell?” “I was informed the young lady of the Aguinas family was abducted—” “!!! You mean Lady Carol?!” Mariela asked Mitchell after springing to her feet and dashing out to the corridor. “That’s… You were awake? We are currently using everything at our disposal to search for her. Please keep this discreet.” “Mitchell, get out.” Freyja was astonished at Mariela’s sudden appearance. The golden-eyed woman coldly addressed Mitchell, who bowed his head in respect. Since Freyja hadn’t noticed Mariela was awake, there was no way Mitchell would have noticed, either. Although Mitchell had served Freyja on the base, he was still one of Weishardt’s aides, and he had an appropriately strong desire to rescue Caroline on Weishardt’s behalf. The fact that Mitchell had leaked the classified information that Caroline was abducted was probably because he’d hoped to get Freyja’s assistance if possible. He hadn’t seen anything to suggest this woman Mariela called “Master” was an alchemist, but Freyja’s ability to notice things far surpassed his ability to do so. For example, she had immediately spotted an intruder that was so well hidden even an excellent intelligence agent like Mitchell hadn’t noticed, and she’d realized normal vials were concealed in the middle of a large pile of potion vials. It wasn’t a stretch to suppose the Sage of Calamity surpassed Mitchell in combat, either. Mitchell didn’t have the authority to ask for help, but a powerful, capable person was in front of him, and she’d demanded an explanation of the situation. It would be absurd not to hope for the “possible.” However, this was only true for Freyja. He’d come to understand within the short period of time he’d been performing his duties that Mariela’s fighting strength was nonexistent. That’s why Mitchell hadn’t intended to tell her. Doing so would be liable to expose her to danger. The fact that Freyja, who normally would have gone hunting and roasting the intruders, had carried the sleeping Mariela back to Sunlight’s Canopy was solid proof of that. The sage was always, irresponsibly, relentlessly drinking in the daytime and agitating her pupil. However, one could guess at her true nature if they looked at her behavior while Mariela was unconscious. Mariela’s safety was Freyja’s highest priority, and she had no intention of either helping Caroline or getting Mariela involved. Mitchell quietly bowed his head and went back to the base through the underground Aqueduct. With a slightly annoyed look, Freyja watched the pretty man leave, and then—with a look actually befitting her title—said to Mariela, “Think about your own safety first.” “Wait, Master! Hey, what’s going on?! I said wait!” “I’ll tell you later, so just be patient in the meantime.” Mariela tried to chase her master, but Freyja returned to the living room to ensure she stayed and headed to Sunlight’s Canopy. “Amber, close up for the day. Sorry, but everyone needs to go home, too.” “Now that you mention it, the weather’s looking pretty threatening. Eek! That was a huge bolt of lightning. It would be better to go home before a downpour starts. Everyone, hurry home before you get soaked!” Amber could tell from Freyja’s eyes that something was going on, so she took advantage of the ominous flash of lightning as an excuse. After she closed the shop, she returned home herself. The base’s temporary atelier was in the cellar, and it had no windows despite being a living room. It was because of this that no one had noticed the heavy clouds overhead, and how dim it was outside, even though it was the middle of the day. Every now and then a bolt of lightning crackled, visible through the skylight. The white arcs were doing their best imitation of the sacred tree, giving the impression of a nighttime storm passing through the gloomy Fell Forest. 11 No sooner had the large, distinct marks of raindrops appeared on the dry flagstone paths than the water began pouring down in buckets. “Phew, I made it.” Siegmund returned to Sunlight’s Canopy only a short while after Amber and the others had departed. Today he had gone to the Fell Forest to collect the rare fruit he’d promised Mariela. There had also been signs of prey in the area that seemed like they could be dinner, but with the sudden turn in the weather, he simply picked the fruit and hurried back. Thankfully, he had returned home before the storm began in earnest. Perhaps in anticipation of the heavy rain, Sunlight’s Canopy was closed despite the fact that it was only just past noon. The interior of the shop, normally teeming with regulars, was deserted. Since Sieg could sense Mariela’s magical power from the direction of the living room, he knew she was safe. However, he didn’t hear her usual “Welcome back.” The only sound he heard came from the rain. “Mariela, I’m back. I got the fruit I promised you,” Sieg said, heading for the living room and opening the door. The once-large room had been remodeled when they moved in to divide it into a fireplace-furnished living room in the back, and a dining room in the front. The dining room was usually used as Nierenberg’s clinic, but Mariela’s master sat in the doctor’s place today. Freyja was drinking with a sour look on her face. Sieg wondered what had happened, but Freyja silently urged him to go to Mariela. He opened the inner door and entered the living room. Mariela was sitting on her favorite couch, hugging her knees. “What’s wrong, Mariela?” He rushed to her side and peered at her face. At hearing his voice, Mariela slowly lifted her face from her knees. She bit her lower lip hard and looked like she might start crying any minute. “Sieg…” The hunter saw more than sadness in her eyes. Her expression was a blend of anxiety, fear, impatience, and resentment. Sieg got down on his knees in front of her to be at eye level and asked again, “What’s wrong?” Mariela’s pursed lips quivered. If she spoke about it, tears might spill out. “It’s okay, Mariela. It’s okay. Tell me,” Sieg said to her gently. In response, Mariela opened her mouth like she was going to speak, frowned just a little, closed her mouth again, and buried her face in her knees. “Mariela…” Instead of saying anything, she began shaking slightly. Freyja had made her way to the entrance of the room unnoticed, and she took it upon herself to explain. “They said that friend of hers, a young woman, was kidnapped.” “Young woman… Lady Caroline?” “Th-they…thought she was me, the alchemist…” Mariela’s face was still buried in her knees, and her voice came out muffled. “She volunteered to play the role of the alchemist herself. She was fully aware of the risks.” “But…but, I wanna help her.” “And what would you do if you went to find her? What could you do? You can’t fight—it’d only make a bad situation worse. She volunteered to be the decoy for you, and now you want to throw that away? All you’d do is put more people at risk to protect you.” “I know… But…” “Lady Frey, please, you’ve said enough.” Freyja had been about to say more, but Sieg deterred her. Mariela’s face remained concealed behind her legs. Her body was shaking now, and she was almost certainly crying. Gently stroking Mariela’s head, Sieg addressed her master in her place. “Mariela already understands everything you just said perfectly. That’s why she never said anything about it sooner. She doesn’t want anyone else to get hurt on her account. She knows full well both her own powerlessness and that getting involved herself would make the situation worse. Even so, she can’t stand the idea of losing a friend who was trying to protect her.” “…I know that,” Freyja answered, sounding just a little uncomfortable. “M-Master, when you…came here…y-you…found me……!” Mariela said, hiccupping. She was asking if there was a way to find Caroline. “That was spirit magic. You can’t use it, and I don’t know this Lady Carol or whoever, so I can’t locate her,” Freyja told Mariela in a hushed, defeated tone. “But I…don’t want…anyone else…to die…!!!” Mariela let out a strangled, slightly hoarse cry. Doubtless she was thinking of Lynx. Her anguished voice cut through Sieg as keenly as any knife. “Mariela, I’ll go look for her. No matter how many days it takes, I’ll find her. And I’ll bring her back, no matter what. So please, don’t cry.” Sieg’s promise was an empty one. He had nothing to go on, no means to search for Caroline. He was just one person, not an organization like the Labyrinth Suppression Forces or someone with special skills for tracking people down. But what else could he do? What else could he have said to her? Sieg gently placed his hand on Mariela’s fingers digging into her knees. Her small, warm hand had healed and saved him so many times, but now it was cold and trembling with sorrow. “Sieg…,” she said in a nearly inaudible voice. Freyja gazed intently at the two of them. “…There’s one way, and only one. You might be able to use it now,” the sage said in an uncharacteristically heavy, quiet tone. “Master, is that true?” Mariela lifted her head at her teacher’s words. As she looked at her pupil’s tearstained face, Freyja’s expression was unusually grim. “Yeah. But, Mariela, if what ties you to this place is weak, you might not be able to come back.” Upon hearing her master’s words, Mariela looked at Sieg, who still held her hand tightly in his. She closed her eyes for a short while as if recalling something, then looked at Sieg again and responded reassuringly, “I’ll be fine.” “Please, let Mariela help her friend.” Sieg nodded to the young alchemist, and then the two of them stood and bowed their heads to Freyja. She seemed just a little uncomfortable and lonely at seeing them bowing with their hands still linked together. “Come with me,” she said and took them out to the rear garden where heavy rain was still falling. “Drops of Life dwell in all things. They circulate through the world, and then return to the ley line. So just ask the ley line.” This “one way” imparted by the Sage of Calamity as she stood beneath the soaked branches of the sacred tree was certainly an extraordinary one. “Mariela, your Nexus is thicker than anyone else’s. Its connection to the roots of the world is stronger than anyone else’s. A Nexus isn’t simply a channel to draw Drops of Life from. It connects to both the ley line and the world.” What Freyja told Mariela was the true essence of alchemy. This was not the kind of thing written in her Library; just reading about it would not have been enough. “Formless things are easily assimilated into the world; they fade. That’s why they acquire physical bodies to anchor themselves. The world needs for individuals to grow, for living creatures to be diverse. The physical body becomes a wall, partitioning the individual from the world. It cuts them off from the voice of the world. But, even if someone is complete as an individual, that doesn’t mean they’re truly separate. Understand? You ought to be able to feel the will of the world, of the ley line, through your Nexus. Because the world is a part of you, and you are part of the world. Whatever it knows, you’re capable of knowing, too. The Nexus connects you to the roots of all life.” Freyja’s voice reached her ears through the sound of the rainfall, even as the heavy downpour grew so intense that their vision became hazy. “My Nexus…” Mariela closed her eyes and tried to ask herself. The Nexus was linked to her skills and rooted in her core. Searching for what made Mariela herself, she shifted her focus inward, deep within her tiny body. “You understand that you’re connected. Follow the connection that draws up Drops of Life. Trace it to the source. To the Drops of Life itself…” The precipitation continued, relentless. Heavy beads of water drummed a rhythmic pitter-patter on the ground. Normally, Mariela could clearly perceive the boundary between her own body and the world, but now, as she stood in the storm with no umbrella, her hair, clothes, and body were soaked through. Boundaries between the world and herself seemed difficult to define in the downpour. The girl wondered if seaweed drifting between the waves had a way to sense the world and itself. Would it feel like this? No, maybe the clouds drifting in the sky had a more ambiguous boundary as they blended with the air. Drip. Mariela felt a single raindrop. Large, pattering pearls of water fell on her and dripped to the ground, passing over her hair, skin, and clothes. The drops from the sky, and from her, permeated the earth and went deeper and deeper in. They were just like Drops of Life returning to the ley line.
Chapter 169
60 min read