Chapter 180

01 “Oh, come on! Whyyy have we come to the snow field again?!!” Edgan’s cry reverberated across the sprawling, icy landscape. “Normally, if someone says, ‘Edgan, I need you,’ this isn’t what they mean, you know? When someone says something like that, it means feeding each other the fruits of the autumn harvest and keeping each other warm on chilly nights! Siiieg!” “It’s all right, Edgan. If you catch a lot, the ladies will consider you reliable.” Edgan, as was so often the case, whined while Sieg gave him empty comfort. People often said that what happens twice will happen thrice, but who would have actually thought the adventurers would visit these frigid wastes for a third time? How this came about was simple. Right when Sieg was asked to go to the Labyrinth for some harvesting, the door of Sunlight’s Canopy had flown open with a bang, and Edgan had come bursting in. “My beautiful amour! It is I, your poor servant of love! I’ve returned to the Labyrinth City!” he proclaimed as he intruded upon the store. Such was the so-called Lost Child of Love. He’d returned from wherever he’d managed to wander off to, though Freyja had likely never noticed that he had gone anywhere at all. “Ohh, it’s been a while! Umm, err, uhh…ah! Edgan! Perfect timing. I actually think I need you for something!” The unnaturally long pause before remembering Edgan’s name was a new level of cruelty for Freyja. Her golden eyes shone with an unusual light. Although she directed her gaze toward Edgan, she appeared to be looking right through him at something else. “Master, that’s not something worth searching through the Akashic records for…” “Unbelievable… Using such a transcendent skill just to remember someone’s name… I guess I shouldn’t be surprised…” Mariela watched her master and muttered in exasperation, while Sieg tried to deny what he was seeing but quickly gave up. Mariela had described this woman as being completely over-the-top in intelligence, personality, and actions, and Sieg already understood her better than he would have liked. The golden-eyed sage never held back; she used her full power even for something as trivial as remembering a name. It made her rather difficult to deal with at times. However, poor Edgan—whose name Freyja had well and truly forgotten—was ecstatic at hearing the words I need you. “Of course! If it’s with you, I’ll do anything!” “Oh, actually, Sieg’s the one who’ll be going with you. I’m counting on you!” “So cold! You’re clearly my femme fatale!” Edgan used a phrase he’d clearly learned in the imperial capital. “Hey, Sieg, what’s a ‘femme fatale’?” “A woman someone is destined to be with, but who has a strong sense of danger around her. A devilish woman who invokes ruin.” “Ohhh. Master is cold to Edgan, but Edgan is also obsessed with her. It fits, I’d say.” “Yeah. Well, see you later, Mariela.” Mariela smiled, pleased with the thought that maybe she’d said something smart. Sieg said good-bye to her, then turned toward his lovesick friend. “Let’s go, Edgan.” “Right! Uh, so where are we going?” “Fishing.” And that was how Edgan was roped into Sieg’s errand and ended up in the stratum of snow and ice. Accompanying the two was the entire regiment of the Black Iron Freight Corps, having been coerced into participating. Of course, this was because the Corps’s new captain, Edgan, had told them to come, even though they should have been taking the day off in the Labyrinth City. Had Captain Edgan’s tyranny turned the Black Iron Freight Corps into an exploitative workplace? “Shut up, Edgan. You’ll scare the prey away.” “Indeed. Fishing is something to be done quietly.” The other members’ responses were colder than the raging wind. The group was in the Labyrinth’s thirty-third stratum, where Edgan’s charges treated him in a manner that suited the midwinter temperatures. This level was known as the Sea of Ice Floes. It sat one level below the floor where Edgan, Sieg, and Lynx had gathered aurora ice fruit in the past. Its defining characteristic was its sea of deathly cold, with a great many gigantic ice floes floating on it. Although these were not true ice floes; they were really just large masses of ice floating in a conquered stratum, an enclosed space. There were no ocean currents or the like, so the ice developed steadily over time. Likely, the floating chunks had probably cracked, risen, and frozen in place again on countless occasions due to battles between monsters and adventurers. The great frozen chunks weren’t all flat, either; many had protruding lumps of ice larger than people but smaller than hills. The thickness of the mostly flat piece of ice the group was currently positioned on depended on where one stood. The members of the Black Iron Freight Corps had made holes in places where the ice underfoot was thinner, or they dangled their fishing lines off the edge of its floating mass. The adventurers passed the time doing as they pleased while they waited for a catch. At first glance, it might’ve looked like they were just relaxing. Sometimes a dart-shaped fish—an epelfish—would jump from the water like an arrow. Even such a seemingly dangerous creature fell into the category of “recreational fishing” in this stratum. “Heave-ho!” Grandel used the pot lid in his hand to ward off an epelfish that had leaped at him, and Newie swiftly disposed of it as it flopped around on top of the ice. These ferocious fish flew out of the water toward animals on land to pierce and eat them, but they technically weren’t monsters. That was why they left the bodies behind after they’d made their kill. An epelfish was about the size of a cooking knife, with thick skin and few edible parts, but the parts that were edible were extremely delicious, making it a high-class catch. Its body was made of fatty white meat; in fact, the creature had too much fat when eaten raw, and people felt it was too rich. When boiled or roasted, however, the fat would ooze out and the fish lost its prized deliciousness. The best way to cook such a pesky morsel was to make it into fritters. If one deep-fried an epelfish without breading or batter, it proved difficult to get the temperature of the oil and the frying time just right to retain the perfect amount of fat. But when an epelfish was coated before being fried, even a chef’s apprentice like Newie could cook it without much trouble. Grandel, the gourmet, and Newie, the gourmand, couldn’t overlook the chance at such a dish, and the pair had been industriously working to catch a number of fish for a while now. As for the other slave, Nick, he seemed to have taken a great liking to the magical rotating and cutting tool the Corps had purchased to make holes in the ice, and he was diligently searching for areas thin enough to do so. The tool consisted of a cylindrical saw and a support, and if you fixed the support in a spot where you wanted to make a hole and activated it, the teeth of the saw rotated at high speed and sank into the ice. Once the tool reached the bottom, the ice could be pried loose like the stopper of a bottle being uncorked. The healing magic user, Franz, and the man in charge of carriage maintenance, Donnino, enjoyed the leisurely task of fishing, dangling their lines and sipping the hot tea Yuric had brought. Despite what one might have thought if they observed the group, the day’s target wasn’t epelfish. It was a transparent creature called a philoroilcus larva, which looked like a cross between a jellyfish and a fish. The bottom edge of a parasol-shaped section that spread out from its transparent body and the short, swaying tentacles were the parts reminiscent of a jellyfish. However, the area from about the middle of the parasol upward was constricted and bulged, making the creature vaguely resemble a fairy in a skirt. Its buoyant, drifting body was a beautiful sight. Exactly how such a creature survived was still a mystery. Its name contained the word larva because when this creature was captured and raised, the parasol grew long and narrow, and the fish acquired the shape of a snake. Thus, the more immature form was dubbed a larval stage. Incidentally, the diet of this strange, apparently unnatural creature seemed to change once it had assumed that long and thin stage, because the larvae the researchers were raising all died. As such, its forms beyond this one were still unknown. A philoroilcus larva had neither a mouth nor digestive organs; rather, the surface of its body absorbed magical power directly. So if one dangled a fishing line with a magical gem attached to it as bait through a hole in an ice floe, then a lucky angler might reel up a philoroilcus clinging to the gem. However, only Franz and Donnino were enjoying this leisurely fishing style. Sieg moved between standing at the edge of the ice floe and posting himself at different holes, loosing arrows with strings tied to them at the philoroilcus that approached the dangling magical gems. Despite the light refraction, currents, and overall resistance the water provided, Sieg could easily strike such slow-moving creatures, even with his Spirit Eye hidden behind an eye patch. He pierced several at once with one shot—extreme overkill, perhaps—but since Sieg was the only one seriously hunting the philoroilcus larvae, he had no time to take it easy. All Edgan did was shout, making him the least helpful of any in the group. The aggressive epelfish reacted to his voice, flew from the water with a splash, and almost stabbed him. Unfortunately, this startled and chased away the philoroilcus larvae that had eaten the valuable magical gems. Edgan was a complete and utter nuisance. Few would have minded if the pointed snouts of the epelfish had sewn his mouth shut—though the man quickly proved that he wasn’t bordering on the edge of being an A-Rank adventurer for nothing. The Lost Child of Love cleanly sliced the epelfish that took aim at him into three pieces, and the bits tumbled down onto a platter that had been placed on the ice. The group had made careful use of midgrade monster-warding potions for this excursion, such that the monsters that infested this stratum gave them a wide berth. For just about all of the adventurers, it might as well have just been a day off. “Is this enough?” While Edgan was busy not catching a single philoroilcus larva, Sieg had acquired all they needed. These larvae were an ingredient in the Ice Spirit’s Protection special-grade potion. Ice Spirit’s Protection produced a thin membrane of ice to protect against heat. Such a defense was mandatory for the hunting of the red dragon that dwelled on the fifty-sixth stratum. With Sieg and Voyd participating, long-distance attacks and protection against the dragon’s breath would be possible, meaning there was a proper chance of success in their mission to eradicate the red dragon. However, the stratum boss, the Walking Mountain of Fire, also awaited them there. Last time, Mariela hadn’t been able to make special-grade potions, and Weishardt had protected them from the heat using magic. Now, the safety that an Ice Spirit’s Protection potion would afford was far superior. Sieg filled a large bottle with the philoroilcus larvae he’d caught, along with some crushed ice. Then he wrapped the bottle several times with cloth and stowed it in a bag. Ultimately, he was the one who did almost all the work. After he considered it for a moment, though, Sieg realized that wasn’t entirely the case. Nico had helped by cutting holes. He’d given Sieg more spots from which to shoot at his quarry and had made it easier for him to collect crushed ice. Grandel and the others had dealt with the epelfish so that he was able to focus on the philoroilcus larvae, and he was also thankful to Yuric for offering him tea. So really, the labor had been divided up. In its own way, it’d been a kind of teamwork. The only exception was Edgan, who’d been yelling about love in the bitter-cold snow field for a while now. “Hey, Edgan. We’re done here. We have a lot of epelfish, too. Let’s get going.” The hapless lover turned at the sound of Sieg’s voice. His nose was red, perhaps from the cold, but curiously, the rest of his face was red, too. “Siiieg, you got on Mariela’s good side in nooo time after you two met, right? And you even live with those two under the same rooooof.” “Yuric, did you give him alcohol?” “He didn’t get anything from me.” Edgan was a lightweight when it came to alcohol. He got drunk quickly, and it showed clearly in his face and subsequently behavior. Sieg, seeing how plainly inebriated Edgan was, suspected Yuric had given the man some drink. Yuric, however, merely gave an exasperated reply as they made preparations to leave the stratum. “This wasss! A preeesent from my beautiful honey! Yeeeah, she gave it to me!” Surprisingly, the small bottle of alcohol Edgan held seemed to be one Freyja had started but not emptied. The foolish lover had managed to move past annoying and now just seemed pitiful: a strange accomplishment. Sieg was unsure whether it’d be worth trying to talk to Edgan in this state. The other members of the Black Iron Freight Corps were content to pay him no mind and quickly continued preparing to depart. “Ohh, I know! Century ice! I’ll express my love with a huuuge block of ice!” Edgan shouted. He unsheathed his dual swords and began running toward a smallish, hill-sized iceberg a short distance away. Sieg didn’t know what kind of woman would be happy to receive ice as a gift. There was a certain alchemist pupil somewhere who would happily accept it as a material for her potions, but Sieg liked to think she was already spoken for. “Raaaaah!” Edgan focused his attack on a single fracture point to break the ice. He drove his two swords into a spot near the middle of the block, just a hairsbreadth apart. Crack. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the iceberg Edgan attacked that cracked, but rather the ice floe he was standing on. “Edgan, run! It’s going to—!!!” Sieg’s cry of warning was drowned out by the thunderous sound of the ice giving way to the lover’s weight. The Black Iron Freight Corps, who’d gotten a head start on departure, were already in the safe zone near the stratum stairs, so they were free from harm. However, the ice floe between them and their leader—where Sieg stood—shook like a small boat in a storm, and the hunter barely kept his footing. That was to say nothing of Edgan; if he hadn’t been gripping the swords he’d thrust into the ice, he would have promptly been thrown into the sea and lost his life to the freezing cold. “Hup, har!” Edgan twisted his dual blades back and forth and wrenched them from the block of ice sinking into the sea, then kicked off to leap in Sieg’s direction. Despite the damp, slippery footing and the shaking of the ice floe, he nimbly landed with only a slight wobble and with both swords at the ready. He glared at the spot where the ice floe had sunk. All present beheld what gradually rose from the water’s surface. It would’ve probably looked like a snake if seen from far away. But the thing was so thick, even the arms of several adult men wouldn’t have been able to encircle it completely. The creature’s sickle-shaped neck was so gigantic that they had to crane their own necks back just to see it. Most startling of all, however, was the creature’s head. The smooth tip at the end of the neck had nothing resembling eyes or a chin. Instead, it had what looked a pointed earthworm mouth. The strange head opened as if the skin was ripping, or as if it was being turned up from the inside and aimed to swallow the prey before it. “Crap, it wasn’t because of the ice breaking. It was because of that giant worm!” The creature slowly raising its head from the sea was more of a worm than a snake. It had likely suffered a rude awakening at Edgan’s attack. The hapless lover had probably survived only because of parts of the creature’s body were still frozen, keeping its movements sluggish. Doubtless, the creature sought prey with warm blood to fully revive itself. Its mouth descended toward Edgan, threatening to engulf him, but he lightly sidestepped and slashed at it with his dual swords right before leaping back. “Shit, that didn’t do anything!” The worm’s body was in a semifrozen state, as if below the thin skinlike surface the thing consisted entirely of fine pieces of ice instead of flesh or fat. If the enormous beast had bones or bodily fluids, none of the adventurers could perceive them. Because its entire body was like partially frozen jelly, it was easy to slice, but any cut closed as quickly as it was made, and the creature didn’t seem to mind when it happened, either. It twisted its body to close the pustulant wound, which then froze over. As if unaware of both Edgan’s dodge and its own injury, the worm plunged into the ice floe the man had been standing on until just a moment ago. The ice split, crumbling under the force of the great creature with another resounding boom, and the creature dove back into the sea. “I’m the one it’s after! Everyone get out of here while you still can!” Though normally a shallow person, perhaps Edgan had inherited some of the dignity and responsibility that came with captainship of the Black Iron Freight Corps. To save his comrades and give them the time they needed to escape, Edgan focused his strength into his grip on his blades and prepared to confront the unfamiliar ice worm again. How did the stalwart members of the Black Iron Freight Corps respond in the face of such a gallant and noble gesture? “I’d do that even if ya didn’t tell me to, y’know?” Yuric retorted, cold as ever. “Ho, ho. Well then, we shall go on ahead. Newie, I’m looking forward to your epelfish cuisine.” All Grandel could think about was food. Meanwhile, Newie acted as if he hadn’t heard Edgan and simply nodded. “Get back before dinner,” said Donnino curtly. “If you’re late, we’ll start without you. Nick, after you’re done putting the baggage in the base, come join our celebration at the Yagu Drawbridge Pavilion.” Nick nodded. “Edgan, be sure to finish it off before you return so it doesn’t cause trouble for other adventurers.” Franz’s comment served as the finishing blow. “Whaaaaaaa?! You guys are so cruel!” Edgan shouted at his quickly fleeing companions, who seemed content not to give a second thought to the worm. Sieg found himself unsure whether he should go back with the Black Iron Freight Corps or wait for Edgan. “Siiiiiiiiieg! Don’t leave! Don’t leaaaaaave! We’re friends, right?!” “…Fine. Hurry and clean up that giant thing, Edgan. It’s approaching from your rear.” “‘F-fine’?! I told you… I can’t…do anything…to it!” The ice creature was enormous, and although Edgan deftly jumped from floe to floe as he attacked, it seemed each blow was for naught. “Hey! Sieg! Let’s team up! Just help me a tiny bit!” The ice worm had emerged from the sea again, and it raised its head, towering over the ice field like a huge tree. Edgan begged for Sieg’s help as he clung to the terrible creature. The hapless adventurer then nimbly climbed the length of the worm as he attacked it again and again. One had to admit, Edgan was nothing if not dexterous. The onlookers likened him to a new kind of monkey. Or perhaps, given that he was clinging to chunks of ice, a yeti. “I could shoot my bow once as cover fire, but…” Sieg was surprisingly calm about the whole situation as well. He watched Edgan’s tree-climbing—er, battle—as if he wanted to say “What am I going to do with you?” It was clear from the reaction of the Black Iron Freight Corps, who had gone home, that the ice worm was a foe they believed Edgan could defeat by himself. Sure, the fiend was gargantuan, and attacks weren’t particularly effective, but that was all. Things like a large size and a resistance to attacks were common characteristics of a strong monster. That was not to suggest that it was an opponent novice adventurers could take down, however. In terms of rank, the worm was probably around B. Perhaps A, if you factored in the environment. A freezing sea and unstable footing made for difficult terrain. This stratum had enough ice floes that tumbling into the water wasn’t too much of a problem at least. Plus, considering Edgan was on the higher end of B Rank, the worm’s movements were relatively slow. What was more, it seemed capable of only physical attacks. Edgan could escape at any time if he wanted to. However, even if this was the Labyrinth, leaving such a giant monster alive and well could prove problematic for someone else in the future. It was just good manners to send caught monsters back to the ley line. Since Edgan had gone out of his way to stab and wake the frozen, sleeping worm, he had the responsibility to get his act together and bring down the great beast. Sieg was ready to step in if he truly had to, but it was obvious Edgan wasn’t actually trying all that hard. “Sieg! Hey! Come on!” Edgan, abandoned by his comrades in the Black Iron Freight Corps, developed Lonely Man Syndrome and completely neglected his attacking, choosing instead to call for Sieg with all his might. At this rate, Sieg didn’t know how long it would be until the worm was defeated. It wasn’t that he thought Edgan was incapable, but the planned epelfish cuisine party at the Yagu Drawbridge Pavilion was likely to end while the foolhardy lover took his time making an ass of himself. Freyja, who was always causing trouble for Mariela and Sieg, had thrust Edgan upon the hunter… Though, knowing Edgan, he likely would’ve happily volunteered himself anyway. However, Sieg’s plan to spend time with Mariela eating epelfish would be ruined if he didn’t step in and end things quickly. “I guess I don’t have a choice.” Sieg assumed a stance with his bow and focused his awareness on the Spirit Eye hidden under his eye patch. He was content not to use the eye to increase his attack power against the worm—he still thought it was Edgan’s job to ultimately kill the thing, after all. But if Sieg found a weak point, he could probably shorten the time needed to bring the creature down. “There. Is that why it woke up?” Although he found just such a vulnerable spot by using his Spirit Eye, that didn’t mean he physically saw it. It was more like Sieg simply somehow understood where it was. The sensation was like walking along a dark road at night, coming upon a crossroads, and somehow sensing which path was dangerous. Most likely, the place where Sieg sensed the worm’s core was exactly the same spot Edgan had pierced with his swords when it had been sleeping in the ice. “Edgan, its vitals are in the place you hit before! That’s why it woke up even though it was frozen!” “Easy for you to saaay. This thing keeps moviiing. And my dual swords are tiiiny compared to iiit.” Even though Sieg had gone through the trouble of spotting a weak point, Lonely Man Edgan merely gave excuses while glancing back at his friend. He repeatedly stabbed at the thing here and there to virtually no effect. Suffering the whiny excuses of a grown man was getting a bit irritating to Sieg. “Rgh.” This was inconvenient for the hunter. At this rate, the party was going to end without him. Even if Sieg didn’t use his Spirit Eye, it would be possible for him to defeat an ice worm with the mythril sword at his waist, but thanks to Edgan’s “but, but, buts,” Sieg had no inclination whatsoever to join the battle. His sword was now nothing more than a decoration. Still, Sieg needed this to wrap up quickly. After desperately racking his brain, he turned toward the other man. “Edgan! Lady Frey said she wanted to warm up together when you got back!” With alcohol, of course. However, inside Erotigan’s brain, swimming in alcohol and drowning in love, a field of neon-pink flowers—no, a love garden and a paradise of pleasure were locked in a wrestling match and writhing around. “What?! What did you saaaAAAaaay?! I’m! Going! Right noooooow!” Edgan shouted without taking a breath and started running. His eyes had a wild gleam in them now, and he was brimming with determination. “I’ll consign this lump of ice to oblivion!” he cried, then chanted to use a skill that even Sieg had never seen before: “My left arm is a pedestal for flames, my right arm a pedestal for thunder. Abide in me! Dual Sword Elements!” “Wha…?! Two elements at once?!” Where had Edgan’s useless and defeated attitude gone? As though he were an awakened hero, Edgan charged his left sword with flames and his right with lightning. The adventurer dashed up the towering ice worm, an incline so steep it was nearly a sheer vertical drop. The act itself of putting magic in a weapon wasn’t difficult, and adventurers who were at least at intermediate level could put that to practical use by sending the magic forth from the weapon. However, handling two elements at once wasn’t easy. The technique was just barely doable through a combination of innate talent, substantial power of concentration, and high skill. Perhaps the best indication of just how unusual a scene was unfolding… “Ohh?” …was Sieg’s own exclamation of surprise. “Rrah!” Edgan drove the blazing sword in his left hand deep into the wound he’d first inflicted on the monster, a little under the head, where the neck or throat might’ve been were the monster a snake. The sword, wreathed in flame that burned despite the cold body of the worm, slowly and steadily melted the creature’s flesh as Edgan buried the weapon to the hilt. However, this was likely little more than a needle prick to such an enormous worm. The tip of the blazing sword had no hope of reaching the worm’s core. But then… “This is the end for you!” …Edgan released the fiery sword from his left hand, twisted his body around in one full rotation for momentum, and struck the hilt of the buried blade with the lightning sword in his right hand. The blazing sword pierced the worm even deeper, and an electric shock traveled down its blade and through to the monster’s core. The worm, now without a core, writhed in its death throes. Its open mouth pointed straight up as if it was about to devour the heavens, or perhaps was merely seeking air, then turned up from the inside and split into four. To Sieg, who watched the spectacle from a safe distance, the monster formed the vaguest shape of a flower. The worm trembled slightly, then sank into the sea as if withering from its foundation upward. “Now let’s go, Sieg. Freyja’s waiting for me.” Edgan emerged from the surrounding frost with the hazy spray of water from the worm’s fall behind him. With the way he calmly returned his dual swords to their sheaths and the confident, nonchalant smile on his face, he might have won a few hearts. That was, if they could ignore the way he was walking. It made him look like someone who needed to get to a restroom right that second. “Uh, yeah. Let’s go. What on earth could that worm have been?” Sieg joined Edgan, and the two made their way toward the stratum stairs. Quite suddenly, an answer came from a most unexpected source. “That was a full-grown philoroilcus.” “Freyja!” Edgan said with a gasp. “Did you really come here to meet me?!” With timing that could only have meant she’d been watching them, Mariela’s master appeared from the stratum stairs and revealed the worm’s true nature. For some reason, Mariela was there, too. Edgan rushed over to Freyja and said, “Please warm my freezing heart and bodyyy.” “Hmm? You’re cold? Here, Fire!” she replied, likely reducing his heart to cinders more than anything else. Leaving poor Edgan behind, Freyja led Mariela and Sieg toward the adult philoroilcus, which lay dead atop an ice floe. “The philoroilcus is an unusual creature. Out of trillions of sporophytes, it’s possible not even a single one will reach the adult stage. At the larva stage, they only absorb magical power—they don’t start feeding on prey until early adulthood. After that, they grow through the middle adult stage, the late adult stage, and finally the mature adult stage, all over the course of several decades. Their habitat steadily moves deeper into the ocean as they get older. “Few people know about this form because it only returns to the sea’s surface to spawn. Well, it’s closer to producing sporophytes than spawning. They reproduce asexually. In a real ocean, emerging from the depths and generating offspring usually kills the parent. But since this is a labyrinth, the water isn’t as deep, and this one survived because it froze and entered a state of suspended animation before it could die.” As Freyja unloaded her extensive knowledge, Mariela trotted behind her, saying things like “Whoaaa, it’s so cold.” The sight of her in fluffy winter clothes reminded Sieg of the era of Chubby-ela, when the young alchemist had gained weight. Mariela looked positively lovely to him, and Sieg accompanied the two women while making sure that Mariela didn’t take a tumble. “Here, Mariela. Use Crystallize Medicine on its body fluids.” At her master’s prompting, the alchemist gingerly touched the philoroilcus. “But this is the first time I’ve… Huh? This is…! But it’s extremely dilute.” “That’s right. This thing is a dragon, though not much of one. Only a philoroilcus that acquires a dragon element has that one-in-a-trillion chance of surviving. Even the lowest members of dragonkind are strong, so this thing’s blood is a thousand times more dilute than the blood of a low-ranking earth dragon, right? These guys get pretty huge, and most of their insides are fluid, so there’s a lot of the stuff. But usually when one of these guys procreates, that element vanishes from its body in the process. With Crystallize Medicine, you can extract medicinal crystals of water dragon blood from this big thing. There won’t be any other opportunities to get water dragon blood this easily, so hop to it, Mariela. Treat it like earth dragon blood.” “Okay, Master.” After Mariela’s Crystallize Medicine removed the dragon element from the carcass, the philoroilcus corpse transformed into small ice beads that gently flowed into the frigid sea. If viewed from underwater, the fragments that sank into the dark ocean might have looked like powdery snow. Philoroilcus larvae drifted gently to shallow spots in the water to absorb the magical power dwelling in the corpse. The little things looked like a group of sea sprites in a beautiful dance. Surely this was the same as the natural process that befell a mature philoroilcus in the wild. It would die, having expended all its energy; then its body would nourish the offspring. “Well, let’s head home right away and warm up! Hey, you too, Edgan!” As soon as Mariela was done using Crystallize Medicine, Freyja urged everyone not to stay longer than they needed to. After all, if they didn’t hurry back soon, all the epelfish fritters would be eaten. Mariela obtained fewer dragon blood medicinal crystals from the giant worm creature than she would have from a single earth dragon. The young alchemist gazed at the little blue fragments, which resembled the ice floes in the stratum they had come from. Then she carefully deposited the vial of crystals in the pouch at her waist. “Oh, right. There are still philoroilcuses sleeping here, and all of them should be exterminated. You can start tomorrow. It should hardly be a problem for someone who so skillfully struck one’s weak point and woke it up. I’m counting on you, Edgan.” After Freyja’s merciless request, the Black Iron Freight Corps enjoyed an extended holiday in the Labyrinth City while Edgan began daily excursions that froze his body and soul to the bone. Sieg participated too, of course, though only after much begging from the hapless lover. Edgan continued to awaken and bring down philoroilcuses, creatures that were—despite being the lowest in the order—technically a kind of dragon. He was promoted to A Rank in recognition of his service. “I…want love more than I want A Rank…,” he muttered with a distant look. As usual, Sieg comforted him with a baseless claim: “A-Rankers are popular!” 02 “All riiight, let’s make Ice Spirit’s Protection!” It was morning, and Mariela had begun making potions in the second-floor atelier of Sunlight’s Canopy. Since Ice Spirit’s Protection took time to make, today was bit of a break from Mariela’s potion-making in the room set up for her at the Forces’ base. It might have been the first relaxing day off in a while for Mitchell and his crew, too, as Freyja was always taking advantage of them. However, it was not a day off for Sieg and Edgan, who were busy hunting philoroilcuses again. Two large pails had been placed in Mariela’s atelier: one contained philoroilcus larvae, and the other contained century ice they’d taken the opportunity to collect while on the freezing sea of the Labyrinth’s thirty-third floor the other day. In addition, plates with aurora ice fruit, magical gems of ice, and ley-line shards had been set out. There was also some funnel-like glass equipment, giving the impression that perhaps Mariela was going to start cooking. The beachy scent wafting from the philoroilcus larvae made Freyja restless. She looked like she wanted to drink. Ignoring her master, Mariela focused on the materials. Usually, she would have completed the processing of the ley-line shards in advance, but many of these materials would melt or spoil after being taken out of the magical tool for freezing. As such, Mariela had to complete their processing first. Incidentally, the alchemist was using glass equipment this time. Freyja had been the one to insist that Mariela use it, which was odd for the woman who typically made Mariela do everything with alchemy skills alone. The equipment was made up of three deep funnels stacked on top of one another and connected vertically. The side that came in contact with the open air had a hollow dual structure, apparently to help keep the inner temperature constant. According to Freyja, the way heat transferred varied depending on the object. This tool’s structure created several layers of air and supposedly slowed the loss of heat. Padding had been lightly stuffed into the funnel openings so the materials wouldn’t fall through. Mariela put aurora ice fruit, coarsely crushed and still frozen, in the lower layer and filled the middle section with equally coarsely crushed magical gems of ice. The top layer contained century ice. The ice had been broken up just enough to fit into the equipment and no further. Plink, plunk. Drops from the slowly melting century ice dripped into the layer with the magical gem fragments, permeating them and spreading out. Those fragments then dropped into the layer with the aurora ice fruit. The cold, newly melted drops of water slowly dissolved the ice fruit, mixing with the juice of the fruit before dropping into a container placed under the bottom layer of the glass device. Plink, plunk. The work required a lot of patience, though perhaps work wasn’t the right word for it. After setting the materials in place, all Mariela had to do was add century ice at fixed intervals and keep one eye on the whole setup. “Master, if the ice is melted slowly, wouldn’t it have been better to control the temperature in a Transmutation Vessel? Do the materials have to melt slowly like this? I can’t tell the extraction temperature or speed. Can’t it be extracted all at once after the ice melts?” “Are you saying it doesn’t matter how the ice melts? You don’t get it, do you, Mariela? This ice was frozen for over a hundred years. An entire century has been gathered in the crystals of that ice. That’s why you let it melt slowly and naturally like this,” Freyja answered while clinking her own ice as it bobbed in a cup of booze. “Wha—? Time melted into the ice?!” “Nah, it was just a metaphor. You’ve got no sense of playfulness, Mariela.” Freyja swirled the contents of her glass as she watched the century ice slowly melt and permeate first the magical gems, then the aurora ice fruit. “Wait, what are you drinkiiing?! When did you get that?!” “Hey, the philoroilcus larvae will melt if you look away.” “I really can’t take my eyes off you for a second…” Freyja leisurely sipped her alcohol as she watched the alchemical setup. Mariela left her master as she was and faced the pail containing the philoroilcus larvae. Just as Freyja had said, those larvae would melt into a gooey liquid if they weren’t kept cold. The only part of a philoroilcus larva’s body used as a material for Ice Spirit’s Protection was a pale pink portion. The larva, strangely, had no bones, muscles, or internal organs. Its body was squishy, not unlike jelly, except for the firmer center. This harder portion of the creature was a dull pinkish color. Perhaps that center bit might’ve been what became the philoroilcus’s core when one matured. Mariela deftly prepared the many larvae and transferred their cores to a separate container. The half-frozen larvae were extremely cold to the touch, and Mariela’s hands turned red while she was handling them, as if she’d gotten frostbite. “Cooold…” Mariela exhaled on her hands and rubbed them together. “You still get frostbite pretty easily, huh? Lemme see those,” Freyja said, nostalgia in her voice, then beckoned Mariela. When Mariela approached Freyja and held out her hands, Freyja took them in both of hers and massaged the young alchemist’s fingers, which were puffy from slowed circulation. “Your hands are as warm as ever, Master.” When Mariela was young and still at the orphanage, she would get frostbite during the winter, which made kitchen work extremely painful. Every time her hands had swelled from the cold, Freyja had massaged them like this. Maybe she just wanted to touch the child’s puffy hands, but Freyja’s hands were very warm, and when she rubbed Mariela’s like this, the frostbite curiously vanished quite quickly. A low-grade potion could’ve cured the frostbite in an instant. However… That’s…not the case, is it? Mariela pondered as she gazed at her hands, now warm thanks to her master. The century ice next to Mariela dripped very slowly as it melted, and she somehow felt that she understood why her master didn’t let her quickly process it using alchemy skills. If Mariela had slowly heated the philoroilcus larvae’s cores in a Transmutation Vessel, they would’ve lost their shape and taken on a gooey consistency. If she added about half the cores’ volume’s worth of water infused with Drops of Life, it would stay a liquid even at room temperature. After that, she would just have to mix the extract with century ice and the base material made from processing ley-line shards, but Mariela felt it would still take time for the century ice to completely melt after that was done. “Sieg and the others are probably cold. Today I’ll cook some stew, even if it takes a while to make.” Surely a soup with slow-cooked meat that melted in the mouth would warm their chilled bodies. Mariela divided the morning between preparing the ingredients for the stew in the kitchen on the first floor, taking century ice and aurora ice fruit from the magical tool in the cellar and replenishing their supplies in the device in the atelier, and making a short appearance in Sunlight’s Canopy. Ice Spirit’s Protection might actually be easy to make…for a special-grade potion, Mariela thought as she watched the melted ice drip. Aurora ice fruit was also a required ingredient for polymorph potions. Last time, it had come from the thirty-second stratum, but this time, Mariela was able to use the fruit she grew in the magical tool in the cellar. She needed a lot more of it now than she had for the polymorph potions, but that wasn’t an issue since she’d gotten carried away and grown a large quantity. Century ice, as its name suggested, was ice that had been frozen for a hundred years, and since it had been two hundred since the Labyrinth first formed, ice found there met the requirements. Mariela and the others had taken the opportunity to collect it when they’d gathered the philoroilcus larvae. The magical gems from monsters that dwelled on the thirty-second and thirty-third strata known as frost trolls—living embodiments of cold—filled the requirement for ice-elemental magical gems. Mariela had been able to obtain these easily rather easily by putting in a request for them at the Adventurers Guild. What made the Ice Spirit’s Protection potion special-grade was the inclusion of ley-line shards, but obtaining the other materials was unusually easy for a concoction of that rank. Holy water was also easy to make for a mid-grade potion, so perhaps alchemical brews that bestowed magical effects rather than healing their imbibers were easier to make compared with the rest of the formulas among their respective ranks. Mariela had heard that Sieg would be using this potion and participating in the next Labyrinth Suppression Forces subjugation. The fifty-sixth stratum of the Labyrinth, where Sieg and the others would be heading, was a volcano stratum where a fire-breathing red dragon lived. Please let this potion protect Sieg, Mariela prayed to the drip-dripping water. Plink, plunk. The sun was still high, but the century ice hadn’t finished melting. It wasn’t yet time to head out to the Labyrinth to use Crystallize Medicine on the water dragon blood from the philoroilcuses, either. Plink, plunk. Perhaps Freyja had gotten tired of watching the century ice melt, because she seemed to be teaching some useless thing or other to the children who’d come by Sunlight’s Canopy after school. Mariela retrieved a largeish piece of monster leather and several magical gems and minerals from a corner of the atelier. The leather had been processed like parchment so it could be written on, and she crushed the magical gems and minerals and mixed them into ink. Prayers and wishes were useless if nothing carried them. No matter how much Mariela felt something in her heart, that alone wasn’t enough to help Sieg. The least she could do was use a magic circle to put magical power into her wishes and hopes to make them manifest. Mariela dripped her blood into a dish she’d put the custom ink in. By adding blood, one could charge a magic circle itself with power. However, the ability to invoke such a magical circle was limited to the person the blood belonged to. That would hardly be a problem for this particular circle, because activating it required an enormous amount of magical power. Only someone with an absurd capacity, like Mariela, could manage such a task. Mariela had also been told the strategy for subjugating the red dragon. The plan was for the group to slip through the breath of the dragon that flew in the sky; then Sieg would use his bow to pierce the dragon’s wings. The fifty-sixth stratum of the Labyrinth was a place of scorching heat, where lava spurted everywhere. Ever since the previous subjugation attempt, the red dragon had been keeping constant guard around the stratum entrance. If the great creature caught sight of anything, it spewed its fiery breath. Even if you skillfully avoided its first attack and managed to come within range of it, the pools of lava everywhere made maneuvering extremely dangerous. Moving through the stratum was difficult, and there was almost nowhere to hide. No matter how many potions of Ice Spirit’s Protection the incursion group had, was it possible to successfully shoot with a bow while avoiding the dragon’s breath and dealing with such an unforgiving environment? A-Rank adventurers had very high physical abilities—even their running speed far outclassed that of someone like Mariela—but no A-Ranker could rival the speed of a dragon flying overhead. That was exactly why the young alchemist planned to use this magic circle. It was a parting gift from her master that Mariela had received a little over two hundred years ago, after Freyja had made her complete the Magic Circle of Suspended Animation. Back then, the young alchemist had whined in anger, “When am I gonna use a magic circle like this?! Master only Imprinted it to knock me out! Grr!” Now, however, the girl felt that surely her master had Imprinted it in preparation for this day. If I asked her, she’d probably dodge the question, though. Plink, plunk. The ice that had been frozen for a hundred years continued to melt. Please let Sieg come home safely. Mariela’s efforts with the enchanted array would give that wish a tangible form. As she listened to the sound of the century ice slowly warming and dripping, Mariela patiently and carefully drew the magic circle. 03 This morning was the same as every other in the Labyrinth City. Peaceful daybreak air mingled with the smell of newly baked bread rising from the bakeries, and all around, houses stirred with life. The animals in the section of the city where yagus and livestock were kept had woken even earlier and were clamoring to be fed. In the residential parts of town, more dense with people, the morning was about as quiet as the boisterous birds would let it be. Even so, one could feel the radiating life of the City just from observing the early activities of its residents. The aromatic scents of meat cooking for breakfast, or perhaps for boxed lunches, coupled with the smell of coffee wafted from windows opened to let fresh air in. As the sun rose little by little, the early hours of the day grew noisier. Adventurers eager to earn as much money as possible headed quickly for the Labyrinth while gnawing on large pieces of bread, and stalls catering to those adventurers by selling smoke bombs, monster-warding incense, and portable meals were opening one after another. Among them were shops that dealt in low-grade potions, so that even at such early hours, adventurers could enter the Labyrinth with magical concoctions. The retail sale of low-grade potions had begun a little while after the conclusion of the first attempt to put them on the market. The merchants carrying them were chemists who held contracts with the Merchants Guild for delivery of medicinal herbs for use in potions, at or above a fixed quantity. Since the wholesale price, selling price, and sales quantity of potions had been uniformly established at this stage, the chemists were only able to make a fixed profit. However, the ability for the people in the City to buy low-grade potions at the same apothecaries they had already been using gave them a sense of security. Knowing that they could obtain potions at any time was comforting for many adventurers. What was more, the system kept apothecaries from losing the customers they’d had up to that point, and the businesses were able to take the opportunity to sell goods such as smoke bombs and incense as well. Most adventurers of mid-rank or above earned a steady income and were already on their way to the Labyrinth around the time most of the stalls were open. They were after the mid-grade potions being sold within the great subterranean maze. Most of them had healing magic users in their parties, but mid-grade potions only made it that much safer to go hunting. Today, the area around the Labyrinth entrance was just a little more rambunctious than usual. “What, really? We can get high-grade potions?” “Apparently, it’s one per person, first come, first served.” “How much?” “One large silver coin. Tch. I don’t have that much on me. Gotta rush home to get it.” To the public, this was a “trial sale.” But in fact, it was a measure to minimize casualties in the unlikely event the red dragon subjugation failed. “Sieg…come back safely.” “Of course. Mariela, take good care of this eye patch for me.” Mariela accepted the eye patch from Sieg and carefully deposited it in her bag. Lynx had given it to Sieg as a present, and he cherished the thing, along with the short sword Lynx had lent him, which he would never be able to return. The pair stood together in the fifty-fourth stratum, a series of ocean caverns once controlled by the Sea-Floating Pillar. Although Sieg had removed his eye patch and was looking around with his Spirit Eye, only here and there did he see the light of extremely small, weak spirits floating upward. They didn’t appear en masse, as he’d witnessed them in Sunlight’s Canopy. “The energy overflowing from the ley line nourishes the spirits. They feel ill at ease here because the Labyrinth devours that energy. In this city, they are weak, and there aren’t many of them left.” Freyja spoke as if to no one particular while she dipped her finger into one of the nearby lights. Mariela’s master had once said that spirit magic couldn’t be used in the Labyrinth because the power of the spirits was so weak, and the frail state of the little things that Sieg saw through his Spirit Eye supported that explanation. However, it was doubtful that Freyja, known even two hundred years later as the Sage of Calamity, was powerless in the Labyrinth, even if it was true that she wasn’t able to use spirit magic in its depths. Or rather, Mariela couldn’t imagine her master so defenseless in any situation. Back when Leonhardt and Weishardt had asked for Freyja’s cooperation, she’d said, “Weishardt would be more helpful.” In other words, even without spirit magic, Freyja had probably been hinting that she could use A Rank–equivalent magic, the same as Weishardt. Freyja had insisted that Mariela be nearby for the red dragon subjugation, even offering to protect the alchemist herself. Perhaps wary of the sage’s own power, Leonhardt and Weishardt did not risk barring Mariela from accompanying them to the fifty-fourth stratum. Other than Mariela, Sieg, and Freyja, the only people there were Leonhardt, Weishardt, Mitchell, and several escorts who knew Mariela was an alchemist. The other members of the red dragon subjugation group had gone ahead to the fifty-fifth stratum and were awaiting orders. Mariela hadn’t come this deep into the Labyrinth just to see Sieg off. The young alchemist produced both Ice Spirit’s Protection potions and the magic circle she’d finished, and she spread them out in front of Sieg. Please protect him. The girl had put all the magical power she had into the magic circle. The array incarnated a spirit and allowed it to manifest until it exhausted the supply of magical power put into it. This was the seal that Freyja had Imprinted on Mariela after the young alchemist completed the Magic Circle of Suspended Animation two hundred years ago. The magic circle served to give a spirit a physical form, albeit a transient one. Although not as complex as the Magic Circle of Suspended Animation, it was still quite an advanced array. However, there were difficulties beyond just the complexity of the magic circle itself: In order to activate the seal’s power, you had to pour an enormous amount of magical power into it. Enough for an incarnation, in fact. Even if you successfully activated the circle and summoned a spirit, the spirit would remain only until the supplied magical power ran out. Taking the rank and the physical abilities given to the spirit into account, such an incarnation might not last even two hours. That was even factoring in that Mariela had poured her massive stores of magical power into the thing twice: once when she’d drawn the circle and again when she’d activated it. This short time limit was why Mariela had come all the way to this stratum. To complicate matters, the magic circle couldn’t manifest just any spirit. It needed to be one with a connection to the person activating the magic circle, and it wouldn’t respond if it wasn’t the kind of spirit that regularly lent its power when called upon. Only one such spirit had always freely helped Mariela. Or perhaps it did so—even going so far as to give her a ring once—because Sieg was with her, not because of Mariela herself. However, that was precisely the reason why Mariela thought the spirit would help. “Mariela, call to mind what you want it to do, what form you want it to take,” Freyja instructed. I want it to help Sieg. There’s a scary dragon flying and breathing fire from the sky in the place he’s going. So if he’s in danger, I want it to take him and run. Like the raptor that took me on its back and escaped when we faced the horrible death lizards. When that image solidified, she felt a click, as if it was the key that would open the magic circle. Mariela poured all the magical power she had into the circle and summoned the spirit. “Come forth, spirit of flames, salamander!” The ring on Mariela’s middle finger sparkled, and the magic circle erupted in fire. The grand, towering blaze cast a strong light. Its perimeter burned yellow and red, but the center was a mass of dazzling white light. A tremendous amount of energy was clearly gathered there. It looked hotter than anything most had seen in their lives. Surprisingly, the heat wasn’t a burning intensity, but rather a gentle warmth. The kind that would protect people from monsters and beasts in a forest at night. The billowing pillar of fire shrank to a size only slightly larger than a human. The change in size did not alter the fire’s warmth. As the flame took form, a raptor emerged, shining white-yellow like steel heated at a temperature of over a thousand degrees. Upon closer inspection, not just the beast’s color, but its eyes, its toes, and the tip of its tail differed from those of a normal beast. The strange creature resembled a salamander that had assumed the shape of a large raptor. From Mariela’s point of view, the conjured creature appeared quite powerful. Having exhausted so much magic energy, the young alchemist now clung to consciousness by a thread. She managed a smile from the joy of successfully executing the technique as she looked at Sieg and the salamander. “Mr. Salamander, thank you for coming! Please prot—” “Grar! Rar rar rar!” Before Mariela finished speaking, the salamander nestled up to Sieg. Already quite feisty, the summoned creature wagged its tail as though it were a dog. Since the tail was so long, the centrifugal force was whipping its whole body around. “Whoa, calm down. Whoa, boy.” Although the hunter successfully soothed the salamander, the tip of its tail still swayed in delight, and the odd creature seemed very happy to let Sieg ride it. When a member of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces approached to put a saddle on the creature, it growled and bared its teeth threateningly, appearing quite feral. After Sieg scolded it, however, the salamander became more or less obedient, but it still wouldn’t let anyone else touch it—meaning Sieg was forced to saddle the beast himself. “Lady Sage, what on earth is that?” Weishardt asked Freyja after observing the summoning of the salamander from a distance. “Ahh, that’s a magic circle I drew that gives form to a spirit for a fixed period of time. Making it that big eats up an absurd amount of magical power. You can only call a spirit you have a connection with. What’s more, if the summoner doesn’t have an intimidating air or a dominating power of will, the conjured spirit ends up acting a bit wild.” “I see…” Leonhardt and Weishardt had lit up when a creature they first believed was a perfect cavalry animal had appeared from within the flames, but the brothers’ hopes were quickly dashed. The instant they saw the salamander’s wild behavior, Leonhardt and Weishardt deigned it unsuitable for use in battle on a large scale. Weishardt, of course, showed no emotion, but it was clear the two siblings were thinking the same thing. When he was next to his brother, Leonhardt, Weishardt’s expressionless face made the two of them all the more amusing. Other than saying she was the one who had drawn the magic circle, Freyja had been entirely truthful. Spirits did what they liked by nature. As such, they wouldn’t behave like properly trained animals. If a spirit was given physical form, it simply frolicked about however it wished unless the summoner exerted powerful control over it. Everything in the world was curious and fun to the mysterious creatures, and they enjoyed themselves to the utmost whenever they could, not unlike a kitten or puppy. Whether they could be summoned in the form of a trained, full-grown creature depended on the nature of the one who summoned them. Mariela didn’t exhibit a fraction of any sort of dominance, even over Sieg, whose will had once been bound to hers. It would’ve been impossible for Mariela to control the likes of a spirit. That was why the salamander had manifested in its natural, carefree state. Sieg had the Spirit Eye, and the spirits loved him unconditionally, so even Mariela’s wild salamander wasn’t likely to give him any trouble, but to normal humans, the spirit was sure to prove far more meddlesome than it was worth. “Lady Sage, is that magic circle something I can use?” Weishardt asked. To which Freyja responded, “I’ll teach you once there’s a spirit you’re friends with.” A question like that was the exact reason Freyja pretended to be the one who had drawn the magic circle. Spirits wouldn’t help someone who wanted to use the magic circle—to use the spirits themselves—like a tool. Weishardt, understanding the true meaning behind the answer, simply replied with “I see,” nodding regretfully. “Hey, Mr. Salamander! Make sure you protect Sieg!” “Grar! Grar!” “One ‘yes’ is enough!” “Grar!” Although they shouldn’t have been able to communicate, Mariela appeared to be conversing with the salamander to a very convincing degree. The young alchemist had put plenty of magical power into her wish for the fiery creature to protect Sieg in order to make sure the spirit would manifest. Perhaps her wish was so strong that some of it had been imparted to the salamander in raptor form. “Well, I’m off.” “Okay. Come back safe!” Mariela smiled and waved, and Sieg responded in kind. The salamander, trotting alongside the hunter, also waved the tip of its tail as if to say “See you.” I’m glad I could see him off with a smile…, Mariela thought as she waved to Sieg and his unusual companion. The young alchemist watched as Sieg descended into a place of extreme danger. In truth, Mariela had been on the verge of tears until just a moment ago. Even now, she was painfully worried about Sieg. The red dragon he was off to fight was dozens of times stronger than those death lizards had been. When Mariela thought about the day they’d lost Lynx, she grew terrified and very nearly started to cry. “Graaar, graaar.” The salamander swayed from side to side as it made a great effort to descend the stairs. A raptor’s two back legs were well developed, but the front ones were considerably shorter. When it ran at high speeds, it raised its tail and lowered its head; in other words, it looked like it was going to pitch forward. It wouldn’t, of course, but if such an animal tried to go down stairs in that kind of posture… “Graaar!” Tumble-tumble-tumble-thud. Falling would be inevitable. “…Are they really gonna be okay?” “They’ll be fiiine.” Mariela’s source of worry had changed entirely, thanks to the salamander’s foolishness. “All right, Mariela. Let’s get back to Sunlight’s Canopy. That way, Sieg can fight without any concern.” “Okay, Master.” Mitchell and the handful of other escorts accompanied Mariela and Freyja as they climbed the stratum stairs. Meanwhile, Sieg, in a fluster, rushed after the fallen salamander. Thanks to the summoned spirit, Mariela and Sieg had parted feeling that today was nothing more than a routine hunting trip. The salamander tumbled all the way down to the fifty-fifth stratum, where the other subjugation members were waiting. The spirit slid to a halt, landing next to Leonhardt, who had just alighted himself. Sieg met the man’s eyes and felt an unease take hold of him. In today’s subjugation, Sieg would be the only one on a mount. Even Leonhardt’s splendid horse couldn’t withstand the scorching-hot ground of the fifty-sixth stratum. Sieg was likely the lowest present in terms of both social position and adventurer rank. Although he’d been a penal laborer under false charges, his former status as a debt laborer was legitimate, and he’d only just recently reached A Rank. Feeling awkward riding a mount in flagrant disregard for the higher-ranked members of the incursion, Sieg indicated the salamander to Leonhardt. “Your Excellency. If it pleases you, I would offer this salamander for you to ride.” “No, that’s your mount. It’s essential to the operation. No need to force yourself to adhere to convention. More important, it seems quite attached to you.” “Graaar.” Leonhardt gently declined Sieg’s suggestion as he glanced at the salamander, which had quickly recovered from its fall and was now rubbing its head into Sieg’s hand. “Yes, sir. Thank you very much.” What a generous person, Sieg thought. He bowed and also pushed on the salamander’s head to tell it to bow, too. Clearly, the salamander just thought it was getting its head stroked, though, and trilled happily. “…Brother, about the magic circle that manifests spirits…” Weishardt spoke to Leonhardt quietly enough that no one else would hear. “We don’t need it. It’s not suited for warfare anyhow.” “Agreed.” Whether because of the salamander’s embarrassing tumble down the stairs or because of the wild demeanor the spirit exhibited, Leonhardt and Weishardt reached the same conclusion. It was up for debate whether that decision saved more work for Mariela, the one who’d made the circle, or the brothers themselves. Though with the art of spirit magic lost to the world, perhaps the answer was obvious. “Grrraraaar.” Leonhardt and Weishardt approached their assembled troops, with Sieg and the salamander following them. Although the spirit had made an impressive show of falling over, it now acted like nothing had happened. Despite the salamander’s physical form being only temporary, its body seemed quite sturdy. Sieg greeted his cohorts with no small amount of embarrassment. Just like on the first attempt, the other members were Leonhardt; Weishardt; Dick, who’d only recently returned to the Labyrinth Suppression Forces; and the same five A-Rankers from the Forces as last time. Filling out the ranks on the Adventurers Guild side were its guildmaster, Haage the Limit Breaker; Elmera the Lightning Empress; Elmera’s husband, Voyd; and Sieg. Altogether, they made a group of twelve. “Allow me to make the introductions. Siegmund is a new A-Ranker. He’s a bow user with a Spirit Eye. And this is the Isolated Hollow, Master Voyd.” The Isolated Hollow. Not a single person was unfamiliar with the name of that S-Ranker. Sieg knew of Elmera’s status as the much-beloved Lightning Empress, but he would never have thought her husband was the Isolated Hollow. When Sieg had reached the current stratum, he’d thought Voyd had merely come to see off his wife, not unlike Mariela had done for him. With neither eye concealed behind an eye patch, Sieg beheld Voyd in utter amazement. “Hello. It looks like using a bow does suit you better after all.” Voyd, however, didn’t seemed bothered in the least by Sieg’s unusual eyes or by the mysterious raptor at the hunter’s side. He greeted Sieg as calmly as he had the day the two first met in the city, then smiled at Elmera next to him with a serenity that belied the coming battle. Elmera returned her husband’s smile, saying, “I look forward to fighting together.” Her hair, which was normally kept tied up in a bun, was loose today. Elmera had also donned a tight-fitting suit of monster leather. The woman made a far greater impression than Voyd to say the least. “Hey there, Sieg. We’ll be counting on you!” Dick called, along with the other commanding officers. They were all familiar faces Sieg had met during the hunts for earth dragons. “You’ve grown into a fine adventurer!” a certain guildmaster praised him. “Thank you. It’s because of your guidance, Master Haage.” “Oh, stop. I didn’t teach ya the bow!” “Grah?!” Glint, sparkle. Haage greeted Sieg with his usual thumbs-up, and the salamander reacted to the man’s gloriously shining cranium. No one pointed out that Sieg’s right eye had been healed and was a Spirit Eye, nor did they thoughtlessly react to learning that Voyd was the mysterious S-Ranker known as the Isolated Hollow. Everyone had made a magical Vow that anything they learned on the fifty-fifth stratum and below about their party was the highest level of classification and was never to be disclosed. The identity of the Isolated Hollow was the likely to be the biggest bit of news if it ever got out, but even some of the assembled A-Rankers preferred to keep things like their unique skills and techniques a secret. Even if the twelve hadn’t made the Vow, no one was likely to do something as crass as disclose such information anyway. The members who made up this group were among the strongest in the City. Yet as they made their way down toward the next stratum, they knew it wasn’t out of the question that they would die for their efforts that day. The fact that everyone had returned alive the previous time was a miracle. Perhaps Lynx’s death had been the price they paid for that. If he’d survived, surely Lynx would’ve been joining them now. He was a resolute young man brimming with intelligence, and no doubt he would have become their stalwart comrade. These warriors weren’t glad they’d survived at the expense of someone else’s life. No one like that would’ve dared return to this decisive battle. Each of the twelve had their own reasons for gathering here. Different though their motives for fighting were, they were comrades bound by their conviction to kill the Labyrinth. Leonhardt gave a speech as he met the eyes of all the other members of the incursion one by one. “‘Kill the Labyrinth.’ You hold this missive in your hands. ‘Kill the Labyrinth.’ You carry the conviction of your comrades with you. Even if my life is lost, this determination must remain. This is the land where we live, where our children live. We cannot let the flames of those lives be extinguished.” Leonhardt’s voice was very calm, yet full of an unyielding strength. “If the ruler of the skies is an obstacle, we shall lop off its wings. If a mountain towers over us, we shall break it and move onward. We will never stop. Onward, everyone. To defeat the red dragon and the Walking Mountain of Fire!” “Ho!!!” Kill the Labyrinth: a goal that united them all. In unison, the assembled people gave their answer to Leonhardt and marched toward the Labyrinth’s fifty-sixth stratum, the site of their decisive battle. The Labyrinth City, far above the coming war, welcomed the morning as it always did. Would it soon be time for the children to go to school? Voyd usually saw Pallois and Elio off, but today they were sent off by their great-grandfather Ghark. Amber, who usually went to buy freshly baked bread first thing in the morning, didn’t show up at the bakery. After finishing her breakfast of leftovers from yesterday, she left her house a little earlier than usual to prepare to open Sunlight’s Canopy. At the Aguinas estate, Caroline muttered, “I wonder if I shall be able to see Lord Weis today,” as an attendant beautifully arranged the maiden’s hair. The fact that near every other word out of Caroline’s mouth these days was Lord Weis made her older brother desperately want to leave. Robert hastily departed the estate a little earlier than usual to head for Nierenberg’s clinic. The Adventurers Guild was silent. This morning, the nuisance that was the snappy guildmaster, who usually had to be forced by his subordinates to do any real work, was nowhere to be seen. Most days, staff members at the guild had to work extremely quickly, having time to concentrate only during the brief moments when their guildmaster was elsewhere—working to maintain security somewhere else in the city. Today, they began to prepare for work amid a somewhat different, tense atmosphere. It was the same for the Merchants Guild, where Leandro, who usually showed up barely on time, arrived an hour earlier than usual and allocated the day’s work. Among the Labyrinth Suppression Forces, each unit’s two lieutenants directed the morning’s training as they’d done every other day, but the captains of six of the eight units, normally present for the drills, were conspicuously absent. The soldiers joked during their training sessions that the captains might be having a private get-together. In each place, something was a little different, just the tiniest bit off. If viewed from a distance, the morning scene looked the same complete picture it always was, but up close, a few strokes were different. Those missing portions were gathered here, in the Labyrinth. Would the day come when these wayward pieces would be returned to their proper spots in the morning routine of the Labyrinth City? The red dragon breathed a terrible cloud of flame to reduce the intruders to ash. 04 In response to the invasion of many creatures with high magical power, the dragon with wings of crimson lifted off from its bed, the crater of the Walking Mountain of Fire. Anyone would try to kill troublesome insects that invaded their home. The red dragon’s reaction was similar, and the power differential between the great monster and the Forces was comparable to that of a group of bugs and a person. However, one would be foolish to make light of insects. Some carried disease, or deadly venoms in stingers. There were also insects that descended in swarms and left behind nothing but the bones of beasts they’d devoured. Simply being small didn’t always mean something was weak. The fifty-sixth stratum of the Labyrinth had only one entrance, leading from the stairs and quickly opening up into the large area rife with lava pools, where the red dragon awaited. Rather than being buried under rubble, as would have been the case from a normal monster attack, the entrance was melting and expanding due to multiple hits from the red dragon’s flames. One person charged forward from that molten entryway, speeding like an arrow. That one insect who’d somehow safely slipped through the passageway to the fifty-sixth stratum quicker than the dragon’s breath could hit them didn’t make for the dragon; instead, they headed toward the Walking Mountain of Fire. The red dragon had lived in this stratum all its life. This was only the second time it had seen this type of creature. Moving at a speed far greater than last time, the creature seemed to be riding some kind of beast that the dragon had never laid eyes upon. The red dragon fluttered its wings, holding its position in the air, then opened its mouth and loosed a volley of fiery blasts. It had learned from last time that this method made it easier to hit the little fleas that hoped to infest its home. They were fragile and couldn’t go in the lava pools; thus the dragon reasoned that by using its breath to drive them toward the pools, it would probably win easily. The red dragon had to protect the Walking Mountain of Fire. These small things didn’t seem like they could harm it, but the winged fire-breather disliked the idea of them getting close anyway. Such thoughts were likely what directed the red dragon to breathe at Sieg, who was urging on the salamander. He’d been heading straight for the Walking Mountain of Fire, but the incessant rain of dragon fire forced him to change course. No matter how many times he spurred the salamander toward the Walking Mountain of Fire, the dragon swooped around and cut in, then blocked the way with its flames. Again and again, Sieg advanced toward the walking mountain, only to find his progress barred by deadly blasts of flame. To avoid the enormous pools of lava, Sieg was forced to take a wide detour, but he quickly resumed his course for the Walking Mountain. The red dragon pursued him and rained its breath down ahead of whatever path would take Sieg to his goal the fastest, trying to obstruct the hunter’s advance. Sieg had first made straight for the Walking Mountain of Fire when he’d burst from the stairway to the fifty-sixth stratum, but his course had immediately become more complex. Dodging deadly gouts of flame was bad enough, but avoiding the pools of molten rock that dotted the landscape only made things even more difficult. Far from closing the distance between himself and the living mountain, Sieg was actually now farther away. In fact, he found himself now approaching the stratum entrance. Did the red dragon enjoy toying with prey before striking? Was it the monster’s confidence in its own power that kept it from noticing the unnatural way its quarry simply ran about, escaping but never attacking? The dragon drove its prey toward the edge of the stratum. This meant that the great flying creature itself was en route to collide with the natural wall of this level. However, a lava pool the size of a pond spread out along the edge. Could the dragon have been intending to trap its quarry on a path with no escape before finishing it off with an especially large jet of fire? After driving Sieg and his mount along the straight path toward the lava pool, the red dragon bent its tail, tilted its wings, and turned several times to avoid crashing into the wall. Perhaps if the dragon had been craftier and hadn’t taken its eyes off its prey until it was dead, it would have seen what unfolded next. The salamander Sieg rode didn’t care about the lava; it ran over the pool just as easily as it ran on land. The molten rock ahead of the scampering raptor-like creature cooled and hardened to become a foothold to support its feet. Sieg’s mount was a fire spirit. Heat and flames were its domain. Even though this lava resided within the Labyrinth, that didn’t mean the salamander couldn’t control the heat around its body. If the red dragon had had its presence of mind, rather than the excitement of hunting down its prey, it surely would have noticed. Ever since the last battle, when the red dragon had suffered that humiliating strike from the Lightning Empress’s Heavenbolt and been forced to crawl on the ground, it had maintained an altitude that even a bow couldn’t reach. However, the dragon’s repeated turns chasing Sieg had gradually worked to lower its altitude. It spread its wings in an arrogant display, but that made it nothing more than a target to Sieg, who circled and took aim at them. Siegmund drew his bow as far as it would go. The arrow he nocked was made of mythril. He charged the bow and the arrow with magical power and took aim, the Spirit Eye reinforcing his movements all the while. The dragon’s wings were disproportionately small compared to its body, and magical power helped it fly. Sieg could perceive the gap in the magical barrier that stretched thinly across the surface of the red dragon’s body. Slight distortions surfaced here and there due to the monster’s flight movements. “There.” One shot, then another. Five arrows sped in rapid in succession, piercing the red dragon’s exposed left wing with perfect accuracy. To a dragon’s wing, a normal arrow felt like little more than a needle, but these arrows, wreathed in magical power and strengthened by the Spirit Eye, struck to cause more than enough disruption to the membrane of the wing. In particular, the red dragon had been turning with the wind caught fully in its left wing. When the arrows tore that wing, it was no longer able to withstand the wind pressure, which threw the dragon entirely off-balance. Finally realizing what the gnat was up to, the red dragon twisted its neck around and glared at Sieg as if to express its annoyance. What it saw was a man with a Spirit Eye who was nocking another arrow and aiming at the dragon’s face. Did the man mean to pierce the skull of the unsteady dragon? Perhaps to declare that it could chew up and spit out such a shoddy missile, the red dragon caught the steel shaft of Sieg’s arrow in its mouth. That was when it happened. An especially large bolt of lightning pierced the heavens and shot down toward the dragon. “Heavenbolt!” The energy of the enormous lightning bolt that coated the stratum in blinding white pierced the arrow Sieg had shot, the one that was currently clenched in the jaws of the dragon. Surging, wild energy shot through the dragon’s head. White smoke rose from the falling monster, which had already lost consciousness. Its left wing, which should have caught the wind and weakened the impact of the fall, was too torn to do so. Gravity continued to pull the red dragon down. Unconscious, the mighty creature was little more than an enormous hunk of meat falling faster and faster. If this prideful monster hadn’t been completely engrossed in chasing its tiny prey and had paid attention to its surroundings, it probably would’ve noticed it wasn’t driving its quarry, but rather being led by it. However, the dragon had always lived in this stratum, distant from the outside world, accompanied only by the eternally silent Walking Mountain of Fire. The monster hadn’t even recognized that several humans had appeared from the same hole its prey had rushed out of and were hiding in the shadows of rocks. With a great rumble, powerful enough to shake the stratum, the red dragon hit the ground. “Hurry! It could wake at any moment!” At Leonhardt’s order, the soldiers hidden among the rocks charged from their hiding spots. They all wore masks to ward off the poison gas of the stratum, though that didn’t mean breathing wasn’t difficult. However, thanks to the effects of the special-grade potion known as Ice Spirit’s Protection, drawing breath stung no more than it would on a hot summer’s day. The concoction’s veil of cold also afforded them protection against the ambient heat from the lava, keeping it from burning their skin. Leonhardt and the others rushed toward the dragon with far greater urgency than during the first attempt. It might have crashed to the ground, but their enemy was still a top-ranking dragon. Furthermore, it appeared that the monster had acquired some amount of resistance to lightning attacks during the previous battle, as it regained consciousness before Leonhardt and the others even had a chance to attack. The furious, gigantic creature struck at the intruders with its torn left wing, hoping to mow them down.