01 Squish. Mariela took Sieg’s face in both of her hands. At first, Sieg’s heart pounded as he wondered if she was going to give him a kiss, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Mariela’s face wore just a hint of seriousness as she stared fixedly at Sieg’s blue left eye and green right eye in turn. “What’s wrong, Mariela?” Sieg asked after she had peered at him for a while and then nodded as if understanding something. Whatever it was likely wasn’t anything good. “Umm, well. When I first met you, you know, I really liked your blue eye. I even thought it was beautiful. But…that was a feeling from Endalsia that had flowed into me from the Nexus.” “That’s…” Contrary to Sieg’s expectations, Mariela’s answer was fairly serious. Was the young alchemist saying that the kindness she’d always shown Sieg was only because of Endalsia’s influence? Were Mariela’s feelings toward him… “But when I look at them now, I think both are beautiful, and you’re still you no matter what the color.” “!!! You mean…” In other words, Mariela was saying that she was no longer influenced by Endalsia’s feelings. What she meant was that her feelings regarding Sieg were her own. Sieg’s mood violently fluctuated, first down, then up. He grasped at the air, unsure whether to place his own hands over hers on his face or perhaps just to embrace Mariela. “Marielaaa, let’s go out to shop!” “Okay, Master. I’ll be right theeere.” As was becoming rather common, Freyja interrupted the two with exquisite timing. Mariela removed her hands from Sieg and deftly escaped his arms. The girl must have had formidable reflexes to dodge an A-Ranker’s advance, but of course, Mariela was completely unaware of such things. It had been completely by chance. Freyja had been in the shop portion of Sunlight’s Canopy while Sieg and Mariela were in the living room. The interruption seemed to have come at exactly the right—or perhaps wrong—time. How had Freyja known? Was her sense of timing the reason she was known as the Sage of Calamity? She did that on purpose, didn’t she…? Despite his suspicions, after hearing what Mariela had to say, Sieg was grinning just a little more than usual. He followed the young alchemist into the storefront of Sunlight’s Canopy. Sieg usually enjoyed brief moments of rest during a normal day at Sunlight’s Canopy, but his days with the Labyrinth Suppression Forces were extremely busy. First, they’d started butchering the corpse of the red dragon, which they’d slain a few days ago now. It was a high-ranking dragon, so not a single drop of its blood could go to waste, and the Forces were unwilling to delay the work any further, as they feared the corpse would start to rot. Under Freyja’s instructions, members of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces harvested materials needed for alchemy, as well as parts that would be manufactured into weapons and armor. They stayed up all night stripping the meat. Red dragon meat was an extremely high-class ingredient, after all. Now that it was possible to travel through the Fell Forest thanks to monster-warding potions, many people and goods had been brought to the Labyrinth City. An equally large amount of various materials produced in the city was being exported, too, mainly to the imperial capital. That in itself was profitable for both the Labyrinth City and the capital, but such sudden change demanded fastidious guidance from those managing it. Leonhardt, the current margrave, who was instead devoting himself to subjugating the Labyrinth, had left the responsibilities to his father and wife. They were in charge of social relations with their troublesome fellow nobles in Leonhardt’s place. No matter how much the margrave excelled at fighting, he was empty-handed and at a bit of a disadvantage against nobles who resorted to multiple layers of roundabout bureaucracy. Thankfully, the red dragon meat would prove very helpful in negotiations with such troublesome people. A rare thing like red dragon meat wasn’t something that could be obtained with piles of gold. It was the kind of thing that would’ve normally been presented only to the emperor, and many nobles sought that rare delicacy. Freyja, who directed the dismantling work, brought a lump of the meat home to Sunlight’s Canopy as if it were the most commonplace thing in the world. Mariela, having no idea how much it was worth, cooked and ate it with her master and Sieg, all the while commenting on how delicious it was. If someone had told Mariela the price of what she’d just eaten, no doubt her eyes would’ve popped out of her head. “Thanks to the intervention of my wife and our father, we’ve got a little more time to deal with those nobles. We should be able to focus both time and resources on combating the Labyrinth for a little while.” “Yes, Brother. However, we cannot afford to suffer even the slightest of delays.” “I know that. That’s why I’ve called Marrock.” Leonhardt and Weishardt, a pair who continued to fight on the front lines of the Labyrinth, headed into a council room. There, Kunz Marrock, who governed the dwarven enclave known as the Rock Wheel Autonomous Region, fiddled with the edges of his tidied beard. He had a sour expression on his face. Placed on a desk in front of Marrock was a lump covered in a white cloth. Marrock, shrewd man that he was, probably had a rough idea of what was under the cloth. The ruler of Rock Wheel was only half dwarven: his father was a dwarf and his mother was a human. His craftmanship was no match for that of pure-blooded dwarves. However, this also meant he possessed keen judgment, which was rare for dwarves. Marrock’s sharp eyes could discern the truth behind any sort of shroud, whether an object or a lie. “I hope we didn’t keep you waiting too long, Lord Marrock.” Smiling, Leonhardt amicably offered a handshake. Although he and Weishardt had to have placed it there to show it off, he appeared not to see the mound hidden by the cloth, and this blatant behavior served to irritate the half dwarf. The feeling was akin to when someone gave a drawn-out toast in front of a tantalizing drink. “There’s a reason we called you here. We have ore we would like you to appraise.” Marrock recognized immediately that the words were not literal. The Labyrinth City was a treasure trove of materials. There were enough craftsmen here that the two brothers could ask for ore appraisal. “It’s this, right?” “Yes. Allow us to show you.” Leonhardt signaled to a soldier waiting behind him, who then approached and removed the cloth cover. What greeted Marrock’s eyes was a mass of unrefined metal with a metallic luster and hardened lava, fused in perfect harmony. Miraculously, the ore hadn’t lost its shine even after being exposed to the lava’s scorching heat. This was a special quality that mere iron could never possess. “…It’s adamantite. Good gracious, I thought a general would know that much. Let me get straight to the point. What do you wish for Rock Wheel to do with this?” Marrock raised an eyebrow and threw a glance at Leonhardt. The mountains in the vicinity of the Labyrinth City were rife with mineral resources. They yielded a variety of common metals, like iron. However, when it came to magical metals, the mountains yielded only mythril deposits on a small scale, and no adamantite. Moreover, the ore before the gathered men contained no soil. Instead, there was hardened lava, making it unlikely to have come from a mine. It would’ve been reasonable to assume that the brothers had procured it in the Labyrinth. Just as Marrock deduced, the adamantite had been harvested from the Walking Mountain of Fire. This metal with a large relative density came from the bottom of what was left of the monster after the explosion. Adamantite had a high melting point. It was not something an ordinary blacksmith could refine. Despite its hardness, it also had a low shatter point. “Hard but easily broken” was a matter of degrees, of course. Adamantite wouldn’t break from a blow with a normal steel weapon. More likely, it would just cleave the blade of the weapon in two. But then, in most battles, a good-quality steel weapon was sufficient. Even though it was stronger, an expensive adamantite weapon wasn’t necessary. The type of battle that called for one would be when a lone person was fighting hundreds of thousands of enemies, or when one was facing a monster so powerful that a steel weapon wouldn’t be enough. That was why adamantite was often combined with other metals to make an alloy. This gave the resulting metal compound the durability needed to not break during a long battle. Such a powerful material was treated in accordance with its commendable traits before being tempered into a weapon. It was not just about the level of the technique used to cast it into the shape of a weapon, either. Only an extremely high-ranking blacksmith could precisely adjust the alloy’s composition ratio, heat treatment temperature, and time exposed to heat. Such a level of skill was not an easy one to reach, but working with adamantite was one way to work toward it. Just coming into contact with and refining adamantite would greatly increase the smithing skills of the Rock Wheel dwarves and bring them closer to their dearest wish: the ultimate sword. Marrock understood this well. And the fact that Leonhardt was showing this to Marrock meant he had an interest in letting the Rock Wheel dwarves handle the material. “One hundred weapons in twenty days. Those are the details.” In response to Marrock’s question, Leonhardt responded only with his objective. “…You’re asking for something absurd. Just remodeling the furnaces would take more than twenty days, even for Rock Wheel.” Marrock responded to Leonhardt’s unadorned request by doffing his own social mask and turning down the request with dwarflike frankness. No hidden meaning in his words indicating room for bargaining or negotiation was evident. “Do the refining in the Labyrinth City. We will provide red dragon scales for the furnaces. We ought to have enough for one hundred weapons.” Leonhardt answered matter-of-factly, and Marrock turned to face the man with a hostile gaze. “…Did you say red dragon scales? Are you sober?!” “We don’t have much time left.” Adamantite had a high melting point. At such a temperature, a normal furnace would melt. However, by lining furnaces with red dragon scales, they would likely be able to hold out long enough to make about one hundred weapons’ worth of ingots. It was possible, but it meant wasting the scales on something that seemed utterly absurd. Marrock made no attempt to smile and hide his true feelings. Even if furnaces were reinforced with dragon scales, Leonhardt’s aim to have all those weapons in twenty days made the half dwarf suspicious. Is the Labyrinth in such a dangerous state? If the worst happened, there’s no doubt the damage would reach Rock Wheel. Though being destroyed along with our home would be the measure of a true dwarf. Digging out minerals from the earth, melting them, removing impurities, adding alloys, hardening them. Casting the hardened metal, turning it red in fire, cooling it, tempering it. Dwarves created a variety of things, but the process of tempering metal was what stirred Marrock’s blood the most. All the dwarves gathered in Rock Wheel probably shared that sentiment. They weren’t the kind of people who could still feel alive if they were to ever depart from the resource-rich Rock Wheel region just to save their lives. Even if the worst happened and monsters overflowed from the Labyrinth and reached Rock Wheel, it was certain that Rock Wheel’s inhabitants would gladly die with their home beneath their feet. As he thought on such things, Marrock touched the adamantite. My decision was made as soon as they revealed this. Few could say whether Kunz Marrock’s decision was motivated by personal sympathies or an understanding for the fate of the dwarven race. “Rock Wheel will undertake this great task. However, a forge is our sacred ground. That won’t change even if we’re using the Labyrinth City’s workshops. You must let us craft our way.” “You have my gratitude.” “Oh, I should be thanking you. I’m looking forward to this.” Marrock raised his right hand and made a gesture like he was drinking alcohol, then grinned broadly and departed. Unlike his usual calm self, Marrock quickly returned to the trading company he’d established in the Labyrinth City, then immediately headed for his magical tool for communication and barked excitedly. “Fellas! Assemble in the Labyrinth City right away! The finest-quality adamantite is waiting for you! It’s an excellent item with high purity. This ore’s just begging to be hammered and shaped. First come, first served, all right? This beauty won’t wait. Get here in five days. No stopping for rest!” This wasn’t like him. Marrock was aware of his own excitement as he called to his comrades on the other end of the magical tool and raised his voice. This feeling was like the day he had first hammered red-hot steel. “Did ye say adamantite?! Ohhh, I’m goin’! Right now!” “Hey now, we gotta tell everyone first! Marrock! We don’t need beds or whatnot, so just make sure ye got plenty o’ booze for us!” “How much adamantite? Don’t forget the copel ingots for the alloy!” The dwarves back in Rock Wheel on the other end of the magical tool seemed even more excited than Marrock, as he could hear them noisily running around knocking over shelves in their great hurry to get ready. “At this rate, they’ll be here in four days.” Marrock trusted that his people wouldn’t forget their work tools, but they seemed idiotic enough to gallop to the city on yagus without eating, drinking, or resting along the way. “I’ll send yagus piled with alcohol and food to welcome them. And then I need to reserve all the smithing workshops in the dwarf quarter of the Labyrinth City. Better get negotiating. Focus on the best furnace and finish remodeling it before those guys get here. May as well buy up all the good booze while I’m at it! The house of Margrave Schutzenwald is going to handle the entire bill. No need for me to hold back! We’ll show them our best!” Marrock laughed heartily as he spoke to himself. He removed his trim jacket and cast it aside. He planned on going to the smithing workshops in the dwarven quarter right away so he could negotiate directly. Both his trim jacket and his polished shoes would just be the way in a smithy. Marrock took his familiar work clothes from the luggage he’d tucked away and began to change. Beneath the stiff fabric of his clothes, he wore a cotton long-sleeved shirt and long johns that went all the way to his ankles; there wasn’t an ounce of style to be found here. More importantly, the cloth wouldn’t burn or shrink in heat that otherwise singed the skin, and they also absorbed sweat well—indispensable underwear for those who worked with fire. Additionally, Marrock had fire-resistant leather coveralls along with his familiar leather boots with steel plate inserts. This crude outfit was quite different from Marrock’s usual refined image, but when he donned it, every piece fit perfectly. “No self-respecting dwarf would suddenly get defensive after being shown such a fine specimen of adamantite.” As a representative of his nation, perhaps Marrock should’ve been doing other things, such as strengthening its defenses or making plans to abandon it. But if I did that, Rock Wheel would be lawless. If they fled, they would do so after finishing with the adamantite. That was what it meant to be a dwarf. Above all, Marrock himself couldn’t contain his desire to witness the forging of the adamantite. Good grief, it’s hard being a dwarf. Despite such thoughts, Marrock—now made indistinguishable from his full-blooded brethren by way of his clothing—cheerily left for his destination. It wasn’t just weapons that were necessary to challenge the fifty-seventh stratum. The Labyrinth Suppression Forces continued to prepare by processing as much of the material gathered from the red dragon as time and manpower would permit. They worked tirelessly, shaping the resources into weapons and armor. The Labyrinth City was alive with skilled people and the sounds of the weapons and armor they bore. One person in particular was absent during this time of great effort, however. The Labyrinth City’s alchemist, guided by her master, had departed from the city. She headed into the steep mountains to get the final preparations in order. 02 Precipitous mountains stretched to the southeast of the Labyrinth City. The farther south you went, the steeper the mountain range rose, and even if you could climb partway up, the terrain proved difficult for human feet to cross. The east was the same, still rife with rugged rock. The only difference was that the slopes were somewhat more forgiving. However, the eastern mountains had a spot before the steep summit where huge rocks had accumulated, perhaps the result of a part of the mountain having shifted and crumbled long ago. The only way to get there was to take a detour through the valleys and travel along a mountain road with a relatively gentle slope but poor footholds. It was a rocky area where few traveled. Maintaining a road was all but impossible, and there were many steps along the way that were as tall as Mariela was. Only creatures like yagus could’ve willingly lived in a place like that. The yagus were happily and nimbly making their way along the mountain road. Mariela, on the other hand, had been on the verge of tears for a while now, clinging to one yagu’s back. “We’re so high up. I’m scared, Masterrr. I want to go hooome!!!” “You’re fine. You’ll be just fine. Not long now, I promise.” “You’ve been saying that for way too looong!!!” Mariela sat in front on one of the yagus, desperately gripping its splendid horns with all her strength to keep from being thrown off. Freyja sat sidesaddle behind her pupil, humming a song while enjoying the scenery. Sieg, bringing up the rear on his own yagu, followed the two with clear confusion on his face. If one observed the three as they traveled along the mountain road, they’d probably have a lot of questions. For example, the yagu Mariela and Freyja rode was smaller than Sieg’s, yet it easily scaled the rocky mountain without the slightest appearance of fatigue. The creature moved as if no one was riding it. The yagu Sieg rode, one of the finest in the Labyrinth City, barely managed to keep up. Freyja also sat with her legs to the side, yet she didn’t look like she was even close to falling off, despite the extreme swaying. What was more, the road was so bad that a clumsy girl like Mariela shouldn’t have been able to hold on for such a long time. However, to Sieg, who had gotten considerably used to what was likely Freyja’s magic, the most incomprehensible thing was “Why aren’t Mariela and I riding on the same yagu?” “We’ll make camp around here today.” “Huh? Master, you said not long nooow…” The party’s yagus came to a stop in a relatively open area. Thanks to the magic Freyja used, she and Mariela hardly swung at all on the yagu’s back, and neither of them would have tumbled off even if they hadn’t been paying attention. Of course, Mariela hadn’t known this and had spent the entire ride clinging to the yagu with all her might. Even now, her entire body was trembling. Sieg helped her down from the creature’s back, but Mariela’s legs could no longer support her weight, and she fell onto her hands and knees, wobbling like a newborn foal. “R-Regen…” Mariela retrieved the Regen medicine she’d brought with her from a waist pouch and swallowed it. The girl’s master had been right in telling Mariela to bring it. Had they seen her drinking it so casually, the Labyrinth Suppression Forces, who trained hard every day, shed bitter, envious tears. However, there was a difference between a young man who built up muscle and stamina over time and Mariela, who made potions and had limited free time to exercise. This was a rare Mariela Strengthening Month. Hopefully, the jealous Forces members would understand and overlook the use of the Regen medicine. “Mariela, why don’t you take it easy?” “Thanks, Sieg.” “Sorry for the trouble.” Even Freyja, whom Sieg hadn’t told to rest, left the camp setup to him and stretched out on the ground. Despite it being “camp setup,” there were no tents. It was just a matter of spreading thick monster pelts on a relatively flat surface, covering yourself with a blanket, and going to sleep. Sprinkling monster-warding potion around would keep weak monsters away. Thankfully, more powerful monsters didn’t live around these parts. As it happened, the actual animals here were probably more dangerous than the native monsters, but they wouldn’t approach either, so long as a fire was lit. Sieg was about to go look for firewood to make dinner when Freyja stopped him. “Mariela, put magical power into your ring. Plenty of it.” “Huh? We don’t have a magic circle.” “I’ll call take care of that; don’t worry. Even if you called it, the salamander wouldn’t do any work, right?” The free-spirited salamander wouldn’t want to hear that from Freyja, a woman who basically never did any work. Back during the assault on the red dragon, the spirit, unused to its raptor body at first, had taken a tumble and had a little fun with the new form. Even so, it had played a very active part in helping Sieg. Freyja laid her hand over Mariela’s right hand, where the young alchemist wore the salamander’s ring. The sage then chanted some sort of spell and summoned a palm-sized salamander. Today, the spirit had taken the form of a flame-clad lizard, like most other times when Mariela had summoned it. “It’s so small…” “It’s fine. All it’s gonna do is keep watch until morning. If it were bigger, it wouldn’t last until morning, you know?” With the amount of light and heat it emitted, disproportionate to its size, the salamander made the place nice and warm just by being there. The group had climbed high enough that there was a chill even with the sun directly overhead. Heat from a salamander to get them through the night was most welcome. The salamander glanced around nonchalantly, and when it saw Sieg, it shook its tail happily. “I owe you for back then,” Sieg said as he piled up some gathered rocks to make a simple stove. The spirit slowly crept into the little makeshift construct, as if to say “You made me a home!” Rather than a watchdog, the three had a watch-salamander. Since it could move much more freely with the physical body it had now than had it been summoned as a spirit, the salamander would protect them all from beasts and monsters through the night, even if they were asleep. As Sieg was making a simple meal from ingredients loaded on the yagus, a group of migratory birds with long, decorative feathers flew overhead, chasing the setting sun. “Wigglertrills. I wonder if that’s their first migration.” The migration of wigglertrills announced the arrival of autumn in the Labyrinth City. During the current season, the migratory birds could only be seen high in the sky from the Labyrinth City. No one knew where they lived. However, after they’d passed overhead, the days shortened, the temperature started to drop, and the leaves began to change color. That was why wigglertrills became known as the harbingers of autumn. No one knew the exact colors of the birds, as most only ever saw their shadows against the setting sun. But as migratory birds, they were on the smaller side. Perhaps because of the altitude, Sieg and the others could see them more clearly here than they’d ever been able to in the Labyrinth City. Wigglertrills flying in a line with their long, decorative feathers proved a beautiful sight, even from a distance. Mariela gazed absentmindedly at the sky. Watching her, Sieg thought nostalgically about how he’d met Mariela during this same season. He nearly remarked out loud how it’d soon be a year since the two had first found each other. Before he could, however, Freyja informed him of the following day’s schedule. “Sieg, you’ll be hunting wigglertrills tomorrow. Your arrows will be able to reach them from here.” Although their plans had yet been undecided, Freyja went ahead and made the choice for all of them. “What?” “Huh?” It seemed that the second day of Sieg and Mariela’s first overnight excursion together would be spent apart, thanks to the young alchemist’s guardian exerting her absolute power. The next day, Mariela reluctantly climbed back onto her yagu, crying to Freyja, “We’re so high up, I’m scared, Masterrr!” The mountain road was much steeper than the previous day’s climb. The poor girl’s master continued to offer a rather useless reply: “You’re fiiine.” Meanwhile, Sieg, who had been ordered to go off on his own, drove his yagu at full speed as it carried him away from the mountain road with poor footholds. “Gh, I never would have imagined wigglertrills were this aggressive…” As soon as he reached a slightly stable spot in the earth, Sieg turned and readied his bow. Shooting wigglertrills in the sky from the back of a swaying yagu required advanced marksmanship, but with the help of the Spirit Eye, it wasn’t particularly difficult. Thunk. With a sound like the piercing of tough but thin armor, the lead wigglertrill fell from the sky. Far from flinching, however, the birds that had been following their leader increased their speed, charging toward Sieg. At the rate they were going, the wigglertrills probably wouldn’t stop attacking until Sieg brought down the last of them. It had been a mistake underestimate these migratory birds and shoot the first one in a large group. A far more prudent strategy would have been to shoot the rearmost bird so that the others wouldn’t notice. The flock of wigglertrills, noticing their lost companion, had taken a sharp turn to attack Sieg in an attempt for revenge. Did she designate this place expecting this to happen…? This was where they had camped last night. The terrain was like a valley surrounded by the crumbling rock of the mountains. Although footholds were hard to come by, there was no fear of tumbling off the mountainside. Also, if Sieg ventured a little farther, there was a place where tunnels had formed from the accumulation of debris, along with many large stray rocks to hide behind. Both made it easy to dodge the flock of wigglertrills descending upon him like a volley of arrows. Sieg lowered his body to cling to the yagu and plunged into a gap between boulders. The flock of wigglertrills passed by just behind him. The place he’d gone into wasn’t a cave, however, but merely a gap between a few close boulders, so the birds immediately circled around the great stones and came at him again. Still, the maneuver had served to put some distance between Sieg and the flock of angered little creatures. What? They’re flanking?! Evidently, wigglertrills were intelligent. Just by his passing through this same place a few times, they had memorized his movement pattern and circled around to both the front and the back. Gh. If I can fell two—no, three from the front on the left, I can get away! Sieg instantly understood the trajectory of each wigglertrill, and he loosed several arrows. How many did that make now? How many more were left? Riding on the wind and flapping their wings, wigglertrills could fly at both high and low altitudes, and turn at seemingly impossible speeds. These creatures the same size as small migratory birds had wings covered in feathers, and a head and tail with beautiful plumage but no beak. When they opened their pointed mouths, Sieg saw small, sharp teeth, and every time they flew by, he could feel an invocation of magical power. Impossible… Could a wigglertrill actually be some kind of dragon…? If not for their proportionally limited stamina, Sieg might not have been able to outdo the relentless little creatures. Sieg saw no chance of victory against that many wigglertrills, aside from defeating them in one shot. Sieg opened his Spirit Eye wide and probed the swarm’s movements from the right, from the left, from behind, from above. He watched their patterns and secured a route. And although he gained distance, Sieg also watched for an opening. Is this supposed to be training for my Spirit Eye…? Whether intentionally or not, it proved as such, and difficult training at that. Sieg had thought this was merely some kind of excursion, but it was a one-man boot camp. I have to defeat them before Mariela gets back. This was typical of Freyja. She’d circumvented this entire place, probably to protect Mariela from a wigglertrill attack, and sent Sieg off on his lonesome to take care of things. The hunter imagined himself walking alone on the way back with a large number of wigglertrills piled on the yagu. He shivered to shake off that image and readied himself as well as his bow. 03 “We’re heeere.” “Owww, my rear hurts…” Freyja nimbly descended from the yagu, and Mariela followed, slipping off the creature. The young alchemist’s master had taken Mariela to a cave entrance resembling a natural fissure that had been cleaved by collapsing rocks. “Light.” Mariela followed her instructor, who had chanted an illumination spell and entered the cave. The alchemist’s legs wobbled with exhaustion. The inside of the cave was made up of a truly immense lode: sparkling crystals protruded from just about everywhere the eye could see. After they climbed through the cavern for about half an hour, light from somewhere deeper within became visible. It quickly became so bright that Mariela and Freyja no longer needed magic to see where they were going. “This is a crystal cavern.” The crystals filling the walls seemed to be of high purity. It appeared to Mariela that anyone who mined here would surely strike it rich. The two eventually came to a more spacious area, where crystals as tall as a person stood packed together, as though only the clearest ones had been polished and lined up. It was like a museum of shimmering stone. The roof of the enclosure had a hole like it had been blown through, and the light of the sunset beamed down through the aperture. As the sun bobbed lazily into the horizon, it dyed the crystals a crimson shade. How radiant would it have been in broad daylight with the sun shining from straight overhead? Even now, when it wasn’t getting much light, the place seemed to overflow with a mysterious power. “Seems like no one’s come here in two hundred years,” Freyja muttered as she surveyed their surroundings. “Master, was this a famous place?” “Nah. It’s my secret spot. There aren’t many spots where you can gather magical power from the moon. Mariela, keep this place a secret. Although, we’re gonna take it all with us today, so it’ll probably be decades before anyone can get such a large amount again.” Freyja had shared something significant with her pupil in bringing her here. However, Mariela wasn’t able to make a trip like this on her own, and the girl had no confidence she’d even remember how to get back decades from now. What Mariela was going to make with the magical power of the moon was a well-known, exceptionally expensive potion. The alchemist wondered whether there was any simpler way to get a steady supply of this material other than coming to a rocky mountain like this, where it could only be harvested once every few decades. It was said the imperial capital had established a method of cultivating lunamagia. Even Mariela had been able to accomplish something similar, cultivating aurora ice fruit in her magical tool for freezing. As she considered this, Mariela had dinner with her master and waited for the moon to rise. The moon seemed to have reached the highest point in the sky while Mariela, tired from traveling, was dozing off. When Freyja woke her and she opened her eyes, Mariela took in the sight of the beautiful pale orb visible from the hole in the cave’s ceiling. Moonlight poured in a steady trickle from the perfectly round moon, unobstructed by even a single cloud. In that cavern, awash in the night’s glow, the moonlight reflected by the crystals seemed to ever so gently spill over. Lunar rays gave off no heat. Even if you touched one of the shining crystals, all you’d feel was the usual coolness of a rock. In that cold, unassuming moonlight—rays full of peace—dwelled a power that belonged to no one. The moon’s magical power. “Mariela, start now.” “Okay, Master.” Mariela produced from her waist pouch a transparent ball that fit in the palm of her hand. This ball, which Freyja had described as “having passable roundness, considering it took no time to get,” had been recovered from a dragon head of the Sea-Floating Pillar in the fifty-fourth stratum of the Labyrinth. Apparently, it was part of a lens that focused the beams of light that had previously given the Labyrinth Suppression Forces a tough time. The original had been big enough to carry in both arms, but this was the biggest piece recovered after the battle, an indication of how extreme the destruction had been. Despite its size, it was a first-class material. In particular, the sphere’s nature enabled it to focus and accumulate magical power at a rate thousands of times greater than that of ordinary crystals. This made it perfectly suited to Mariela and Freyja’s purposes. Mariela took the crystal ball in both hands, walked to the middle of the space, and held the small orb aloft in the light of the moon. Both the moonlight shining in from above and that coming from the gemlike pillars converged on the crystal ball Mariela held as if to allow it to absorb the pale glow. The phenomenon was like water flowing down from the hills, completely different from the reflection and refraction. To an outside observer, it likely would have seemed that the small crystalline ball was the source of the light, not the other way around. The magical power of the moon had no color and belonged to no one. So if you processed it into a potion, it could give that energy to whoever drank it. This made the power of the moon a key material in mana potions, a mysterious kind of medicine that could restore magical power. A person could collect the magical power of these crystals only when they were bathed in moonlight. As soon as the moon moved from the highest spot in its alignment, or if it became obstructed in any way, it would be impossible to draw any more of the stored magical power from the crystals. “Drops of Life.” Mariela raised her free right hand with her open palm facing the sky. “Wind.” Freyja called upon wind magic at the same time. Drops of Life rode on the wind and sprinkled throughout the cavern. The droplets changed into particles smaller than mist and came to rest on the crystals. Freyja’s winds then carried the vapor back. This was to reveal and gather the remaining magical power of the moon stored in the crystals. Just as Freyja had said, the crystal ball had taken the entirety of the magical power in the crystals into itself. All that emanated from the little orb now was some flickering moonlight. It looked like a glass ball with shimmering water trapped inside. “Let’s sleep here tonight. We’ll meet up with Sieg tomorrow.” Indicating that the cave was safe, Freyja flopped down on a pelt she’d spread on the ground, completely defenseless. Mariela spread her own pelt next to Freyja’s and joined her. “Master, this cave’s a little cold.” “Truth is, the temperature hardly changes at all in here. It’s actually pretty warm come wintertime. It’s because the ceiling is open. Since you can see the moon and the stars, it’s not bad as far as the scenery goes, either.” Freyja laughed, saying that alcohol would’ve made the whole thing complete, and Mariela nestled close to her. The two hadn’t slept this close together since Mariela was very young, when her master had first taken custody of her. “Hey, Master.” “Hmm? What is it?” “It’s been forever since we spent time together like this, just the two of us.” “Oh? Sieg is always out hunting, so it hasn’t been that long.” “Mm, that’s true, but…there are always people in the city.” “Ahh, I guess it has been a long time since we were totally alone.” In the past, the young alchemist hadn’t sensed the presence of other people at all. As she became more proficient in her craft, Mariela started to notice just how many people were living in the Labyrinth City. She really didn’t know whether it was the Drops of Life flowing through the Nexus that connected her to the ley line, or the Drops of Life dwelling in and drifting through her surroundings that she had begun to sense. Either way, Mariela was now able to perceive it, where she hadn’t before. So… “Hey, Master.” “What?” “When I woke up a year ago, I felt like something had awakened in me. Did you experience anything like that?” “Who can say?” Just as Mariela had expected, her master didn’t give a straight answer. “Heeey, Master.” “What now?” “Wigglertrills are a wind-type dragon species, aren’t they?” “That’s right.” “Earth-type earth dragon, fire-type red dragon, water-type philoroilcus, and wind-type wigglertrill. We’ve got all four elements.” “Yup.” These four types of dragon blood were also materials for potions with powerful effects, though different from mana potions. Neither philoroilcuses nor wigglertrills were known by most as dragon species, so it probably would have taken an extremely long time for Mariela to get all four elements without her master’s help. The golden-eyed sage hadn’t offered any kind of explanation, but Mariela somehow understood. Everything they had to do was done. Doubtless, everything they needed had been collected now. “We got them all…,” Mariela muttered, and her teacher gently put her arm around Mariela’s back and slowly patted her, as if lulling a child to sleep. “There’s still a bit more time. Just about enough to make a Magic Circle of Suspended Animation.” Freyja’s voice was unusually tender, her tone like that used to speak to a beloved infant. But Mariela calmly shook her head as she answered. “I can’t leave everyone behind to save myself.” There had been people two hundred years ago who treated Mariela with kindness, but she hadn’t had any deep relationships with any of them. Mariela hadn’t hesitated to escape the Stampede alone with a Magic Circle of Suspended Animation. Her master had been the sole exception, of course, but Freyja had left their cottage in the Fell Forest three years prior, and Mariela hadn’t known where she was. That was why Mariela held no regrets about having put herself into suspended animation back then. But now… “I’m glad you have so many to care for.” Freyja said warmly. “Mm-hmm…” Mariela had grown sleepy from her master’s high body temperature and the hand soothingly patting her back. “…Hey, Master.” “Mm?” “Don’t…disappear suddenly…this time…” Freyja responded with a gentle smile tinged with chagrin. Whatever her answer was went unheard: Mariela had already fallen asleep. The light of the moon in the crystal cavern gently settled over teacher and student like a blanket. 04 The next morning, Mariela and Freyja departed from the crystal cavern and met up with Sieg in the afternoon. Sieg and his yagu were sitting next to a pile of dozens of wigglertrills. He bore no conspicuous injuries, thanks to the use of potions, though he and his mount seemed absolutely ragged from their efforts. “Whoa, good job!” Despite receiving such rare praise from Freyja, Seig seemed a bit dejected. “I couldn’t fully command the Spirit Eye; I felled the last ones with my sword.” He appeared to have fought a great number of flocks while healing and resting when he could between each encounter. “Ahh, that doesn’t matter, does it? As long as you were able to beat them. Here, drink up.” Sieg had battled the wigglertrills thinking it was training to master his Spirit Eye. Apparently, all he’d really had to do was catch the creatures. After she handed Sieg a mid-grade heal potion, Freyja told Mariela to use Crystallize Medicine on the wigglertrills’ blood. “Ohh?! They’re so tiny, but their dragon blood might be pretty thick.” “The strength of a dragon species isn’t measured just in terms of offensive ability or the size of the body. These guys have stupidly long lifespans. Though, despite their long lives, they have the same intelligence as migratory birds. All they do is chase the wind.” “Whoa.” Mariela gave a vague reply, as if she didn’t really understand. The alchemist held out her hands toward the mountain of wigglertrills felled by arrow and blade and gave her Crystallize Medicine skill a shot. The philoroilcus had been so big she’d thought it was an iceberg itself, yet its dragon blood was very diluted. As such, Mariela had gotten a disproportionately small amount of medicinal crystals from it. This necessitated returning to the Labyrinth many times over to get enough just to fill a vial. Conversely, the alchemist was able to get a full vial’s worth of medicinal crystals from the small mountain of wigglertrills. After all their blood had been converted to medicinal crystals, the wigglertrill corpses began to transform into something resembling dead leaves or molted husks. In the blink of an eye, the small bodies of the creatures went from soft to dry. As Mariela watched the abrupt change with astonishment, a strong gust of wind blew between the rocks to lift the wigglertrill corpses and send them scattering like fallen leaves. They whirled around and around as they rose on the wind toward the sky; then they suddenly reverted to their little birdlike shapes. They loudly cheep-cheeped and fell in line with each other, soaring toward the western sky. “…They came back to life!” “Yup. They are like the embodiment of the wind; they don’t simply die. Since we extracted their dragon blood, they’ll probably stay small for a while, though.” “Whoaaa,” Mariela uttered, astonished. Freyja turned to the alchemist and said, “With this, our task is done.” Recalling the conversation from the night before, Mariela felt a slight twinge of melancholy. “Okay. Master, Sieg, let’s go home.” “Ah, if we hurry, we can get back to the Labyrinth City before the end of the day.” “Whaaat? I don’t want another scary ride…” Although he should have been tired after the battle with the wigglertrills, Sieg wanted to hurry home. He wore an expression of extreme disappointment at seeing Mariela climb onto her master’s yagu again, but he would have many opportunities to ride his yagu in the future. “Since we finished what we needed to do, let’s take our time heading back. We can get home before the end of the day even if we take it slow,” Mariela said to no one in particular, as if reassuring herself they could make their way home at a reasonable pace. I don’t think it was just me who awoke, Mariela thought as she recalled the previous night’s conversation with her master. Though she had no real basis for the supposition, Mariela somehow knew that her days being jostled around on Freyja’s yagu were dwindling. 05 “You stink. Take a bath in the bathhouse outside and then come back.” “Heh-heh, sorry, young doc.” Paying no attention to the displeased expression of the young noble sitting in the examination room, a middle-aged man flashed his yellowed teeth in a smile and left the room, dragging his leg behind him. The dirtied man headed for the clinic’s reception desk, where he said, “The doc told me to take a bath.” The receptionist handed him a ticket of admittance to the bathhouse. The man accepted the ticket with the hand not holding a cane and thrust it into the pocket of his dirty tunic. His cuffs were worn out, and he hadn’t washed his clothes in a while, so they were very dirty. The man smelled so bad even he himself could tell. S’pose I’ll wash them, too, while I’m at it. The Labyrinth’s City economy had improved recently, and the man had come into some steady work as of late, so he had a little extra money to spend. Conveniently, the bathhouse had a place for doing laundry. The man could borrow tools and do it himself, but for several copper coins, there was also a service that would wash his clothes for him while he took a bath. A clean body just out of the bath wearing freshly washed and folded clothes felt extremely nice, even if those clothes were his usual rags. For one who had lived alone for a long time, putting on clothing that had been washed and prepared by someone else felt extremely respectable and first-class. The fee for a bath was also just a few copper coins, but a bathing fee, a laundry fee, and the costs of meals and lodging all at once added up to a considerable sum. That was why the man was grateful for the free bathing ticket. The youth treating people in the clinic appeared to be of noble birth. His arrogant manner of speech, his conduct, and the way he looked at people made him the spitting image of an upstart nobleman in the dirty, middle-aged man’s eye. The older man had most certainly been upset by the noble’s attitude at first, but there were escort soldiers waiting behind him. The truth of it was that the older man’s clothes and his body were well and truly unclean. When he had stood up for himself and defiantly proclaimed, “I haven’t been able to bathe, so I can’t help it if I’m filthy,” a bathhouse was constructed soon after near the clinic, and he’d been given a ticket to use it. Somehow, that young noble didn’t seem to be as bad as his demeanor had first suggested. Now when the middle-aged man went to the clinic, he made sure to look as dirty as possible so he’d get a free bathing ticket. He’d thought he alone had come up with this trick, but it became clear rather quickly that he was not so unique. Other slum residents who visited the clinic soon began using the same method to get bathing tickets. When the man with the bad leg handed over his bathing ticket at the entrance to the bathhouse, he received a small bar of soap and a hand towel. There were cheaper tickets that could be purchased for only two copper coins, but they didn’t come with the soap or the towel. Still, the place was run by a noble. The ill-tempered young man proved generous and gave people the more expensive bathing tickets. Neither the soap nor the towel was used up in a single bath, and the poor man was free to take them home and use them again. The once-dirty man didn’t know if it was because he was living a more hygienic life or because he’d been eating better as of late, but recently, his health had improved. “Your leg’s grown quite a bit, huh?” “Oh, it’s you. Yep, that’s right.” Shedding his dirtied clothes and dragging his leg as he headed for the bathtub, the man was greeted by another person. An acquaintance of his from the slums. “There wasn’t enough of it ta drag before.” “By the by, how ye been lately?” “Oh, I’m doin’ good. Completely recovered.” At the sight of his acquaintance spreading his dominant hand to show all five fingers, the man thought, Lucky guy. If he remembered correctly, the ring and pinky fingers of his friend’s hand had been bitten off by a monster. His acquaintance hadn’t been able to properly grip a sword with the remaining three fingers, so he’d eked out a living by carrying baggage and such. The middle-aged man had lost his leg all the way to the middle of his thigh, and it had taken a long time to even get back this much through healing. The other man had comparatively lost far less, only lost two fingers, so he’d quickly healed and been able to return to the Labyrinth. “I envy ye,” the man commented honestly. “What’re ya talkin’ about? Ya just got a little while to go before you’re all healed up, too, yeah? After all, ya can use magic, and once your leg’s back to normal, you’ll be stronger than me. How about this: When you’re better, let’s go into the Labyrinth together.” “It’s a deal. Thanks.” The man with the wounded leg could almost wrap his fingers around his recovery now, and that was why he was envious. He had a nagging feeling that if he pushed himself just a little, he could return to the Labyrinth right now, even though he knew he needed to be patient. Pipe dreams like becoming very rich and living in a stately mansion or becoming an S-Ranker and making a name for himself didn’t inspire envy, even if they were fun to imagine. The man knew that strong, honest jealousy was precisely because he had the very real sense that both of his legs would soon be whole again and he would be able to enter the Labyrinth, just like the other man who’d gotten his fingers back. “I wanna return to the Labyrinth before winter gets ’ere,” the man muttered. There was food distribution in the slums, so he wouldn’t starve to death, but the winter was harsh. If snow fell, cold water would soak through the holes in his shoes and make his feet ache as if they were frozen through. Even the leg he’d since lost seemed to complain of the cold, as the damaged appendage still felt pain as plainly as any whole limb. “You’ll be fine. But don’t even think about doin’ things by yourself right after you’re cured. You’ll find others like us in the Adventurers Guild, and staff members will accompany ya into the Labyrinth; make use of that resource.” “Ohh, that sounds great. I’ll do just that,” the man answered. Starting to feel a little dizzy, he got out of the bathtub. Once his leg finally healed, he’d be able to take a bath like this every day, and he’d probably be able to afford some better food and a nicer place to sleep. Until now, the only thing the man had wished was for winter to end early. The way his life had been going, the only things on his mind were surviving to the next day and gathering up any trash he could find that might be useful. But now, the man was surprised to find that even his innermost feelings had changed. He could recall, if only just a little, the feelings from before he’d lost his leg, back when he was still a man full of hopes and desires. Food, clothes, shelter. These things were necessary, but after having spent the last winter without a leg, holding on to feelings of desire and ambition seemed to be just as necessary to the man as something to eat or drink. “‘Not dying’ and ‘living’ ain’t the same thing.” “Yeah, no doubt about that. We’d do well not to forget it.” The man who’d lost fingers agreed with the man who’d lost his leg. Neither person was possessed of great intelligence, but both had realized something important during their struggles. Unaware that he was giving residents of the slums ambition and the will to live, the young noble in the clinic, Robert Aguinas, breathed a quiet sigh. This clinic had been built on the southwestern side of the Labyrinth using the profits from sales of potions in the City. It had been constructed specifically to treat people living in the slums who could no longer fight because of grievous injuries. However, others who’d suffered injury in the Labyrinth also found themselves at Robert’s clinic. Among those, Robert was in charge of serious cases, like those who’d lost arms or legs. Special-grade potions were crucial for subjugating stratum bosses. The ley-line shards used as materials in such concoctions were limited since monsters so rarely left them behind when slain. Although the Aguinas family had been building a supply of shards for about a hundred years, that didn’t mean the potions made from them were readily used for the people who sought treatment at the clinic. That was why Robert was putting high-grade potions and the techniques of the black new medicine he’d once manufactured to practical use, regenerating missing body parts over time. When Robert had begun administering treatment here, he’d found the squalid people of the slums unbearable. They were in such unsanitary conditions that at dinnertime, against his better judgment, he’d complained to his younger sister, Caroline. “My, an unhygienic environment will lead to infectious diseases! On that subject, I have heard there are public baths in the imperial capital,” Caroline had said after listening to him complain. Shortly afterward, the bathhouse was built. One might’ve thought it philanthropic work befitting a woman of nobility. However, the construction was, in fact, quite profitable. Construction of the bathhouse helped establish a number of related businesses, including the cheap provision of hand towels from villages near the Fell Forest, the manufacturing of soap sold at the bath (thanks to everything they’d learned making pest control dumplings), and the establishment of a laundry service to clean the terrible stains acquired in the Labyrinth. The bathhouse itself was popular, but the Aguinas family also improved their reputation by creating new jobs for people who were unable to fight. The future of the family was exceedingly secure, and Robert, dealing with less-than-savory characters every day, found himself in a slight bind. Robert sighed again. The examination room reeked of his patients. Human body odor is so unsettling. What would calm Robert’s heart was the smell of a library with a large number of books, or the slightly musty smell of a damp cellar. While he’d been manufacturing the new medicine, he’d come in contact with many materials, but what thrilled his nostrils was the suffocating smell of blood and the odor of chemicals with unique stimuli, not the stench that wafted from the people of the slums and the adventurers who visited him in the clinic. Why does it smell sour? Sweat? The bodies Robert begrudgingly touched to do his medical examinations were hot, and their hearts pounded. Many patients took the opportunity during their examinations to make Robert listen to them talk about completely unrelated things—what monster they’d defeated that day, how such-and-such a place had delicious food, how some shop had a cute girl. All of them became more talkative as their conditions improved. They’d explain how, when their injuries were healed, they’d go into the Labyrinth and make a lot of money. And when they’d earned all that money, they were going to eat the delicious food, or talk to the cute girl, or save up a lot for a home someday. They wanted a house, or to start a business, or to have their parents move here so they could live more comfortably. Over and over, Robert was forced to listen to these stories, and he felt that each and every one of these little anecdotes was truly idiotic. Without exception, these trite, meager wishes were the kind that could be found anywhere. Two hundred years after the Stampede, these kinds of hopes and dreams were hardly original. They were just like the one the Aguinas family and the alchemists shared, the one that had bound them together. Every one of the people who had been injured and healed returned to the Labyrinth. Twenty percent of their earnings was paid through the Adventurers Guild for the cost of treatment, so there was no need for them to pay the clinic separately. Yet still they brought Robert game or some of the items they’d harvested below the city to express their gratitude for his treating them. They’d bring him things like monster meat unsuited for a nobleman, unfamiliar fruit, or medicinal herbs that he couldn’t use because he wasn’t an alchemist. Even though I tell them it’s unnecessary… Nevertheless, it’s still less objectionable to see people in perfectly good health. Despite Robert’s painstaking efforts to heal them, some returned with new wounds. There were even a few who never came back from the Labyrinth at all. “Are you going to enter the Labyrinth again?” Robert asked an adventurer whose injuries he’d healed more than once. “Darn right I am,” the adventurer replied, as if it were a matter of course. “No need to worry; I won’t die before I’ve paid off my whole bill.” “That is…not what I’m saying.” No matter how expensive the cost of treatment at this clinic, the agreement was for patients to pay twenty percent of their earnings toward their bill until it was paid in full. Even if they had families, however, those families were under no obligation to pay. In other words, if they died, the debt was forgiven. The clinic’s operating costs were covered by the profits from the sale of potions, so even an unpaid bill wasn’t cause for concern. So then why was the return of adventurers to the Labyrinth so frustrating? Robert bit his thin lower lip as he wondered. All of these people had suffered terrible injuries, wound up in the slums living in squalor, and yet all of them returned to the Labyrinth once they’d been healed. It was probably dreadful to face monsters and painful to suffer injuries, yet they dared to descend regardless. “It’s ’cause I got no other options. I’m a bit of a blockhead.” They all gave excuses: “It’s ’cause I got no other options. I’m a bit of a fool, y’see.” I understand… A wish born from alchemists had been passed down through the generations over the two hundred years since the Stampede. That meager wish, one that the lineage of the Aguinas family had sought over many years to grant, was no different from the wish of those of the people he was treating. I knew this… Although the people Robert made into ”materials” and murdered had committed crimes in the past, they too were human beings. Those people had been no different from the ones Robert now treated. The smell of the people Robert administered treatment to today was indelibly ingrained in his body. The stench of the blood of those Robert had killed over many years, and the stink of the liquid medicine, it had all seeped into his pores, never to be washed out. People he healed continued to challenge the Labyrinth. Their eyes were full of hope at the chance to fulfill once unattainable dreams. Having gotten their lives back, those people shone with a new determination. Robert was sure that was what kept them fighting in the Labyrinth, that drive to achieve their dreams of winning fortune and happiness. They descended into the depths even when it was that very same Labyrinth that had taken everything from them in the first place. Robert continued to heal those intrepid people. Day in and day out, he was surrounded by the scent of humans, and his heart could never quite settle down amid all the hustle and bustle. With so much work to be done, Robert wasn’t afforded the leisure of either thinking back on the past or looking to the future. It was like a multistory sand castle, built only to collapse. Higher and higher. It was impossible for it to reach the sky. Robert would build it, it would fall, and a wave would sweep the sand away. Right from under his feet. It’s fine if you’re not in perfect health. I’ll heal you, no problem. Just come back alive… If they didn’t return to see him in the clinic, then there was nothing he could do for them. He knew it, and though he didn’t recognize the feeling as such, he regretted it. At the time, the number of adventurers venturing into the Labyrinth far exceeded the number of soldiers in the Labyrinth Suppression Forces. It could have very well been the highest numbers since the Stampede. Those adventurers who sustained injuries and survived many times over, who learned through painful experience, were all cautious. They battled monsters without overstepping their own limitations and began to find the means they needed to accumulate wealth. 06 “Can’t believe they decided to bring the young lady to this stratum…” Old Man Ghark looked at Mariela. He spoke like a grandfather might to a child taking their first wobbly steps. This was the fifty-sixth stratum of the Labyrinth. A stratum of lava where the Walking Mountain of Fire and the red dragon had once held dominion. Only those two monsters had lived here. With them gone, this level of the Labyrinth was free of harmful creatures. The stratum itself remained dangerous, however. It was still hot; scattered lava pools dotted the place, and rocks scattered about from the Walking Mountain of Fire’s explosion made it difficult to travel on foot. Ice Spirit’s Protection potions kept the group protected from the high temperature, but if anyone carelessly fell into a pool of lava, that would be it. “Waugh!” Mariela, who’d been walking along the unstable rocks, tripped on one and almost tumbled over. Sieg was at her side supporting her, but the unsteady way she walked was very dangerous. “Wouldn’t it be better if ye rode piggyback?” Ghark suggested, although that would be fairly embarrassing. “If I don’t see it up close, I won’t be able to find it,” Mariela replied without looking back at the old man. She kept her eyes forward, watching cracks in the hardened lava. “Ah, that rock. Please break that one, Mr. Ghark.” “Right. Stand back a bit so ye don’t get hit with any debris.” With a powerful motion that belied his age, Ghark swung a pickax down at the lump of hardened lava Mariela had indicated. Their goal today was to break rocks, so he was using a custom-made pickax instead of his usual double ax. It was hard to tell because of its black color and rough shape, but this rock, the result of lava rapidly cooling, had a great many cracks running along it due to the coagulation and shrinking caused by drop in temperature. Parts of the stone that contained heavy amounts of metal proved difficult to break open. However, cracking open such rocks was doable if one aimed for spots with less sturdy metal. Aiming for the spots where different materials mixed in the same lump of stone also made the hard masses easier to split. “Ah, this really was it. With this… Yeah, this will be a secondary material.” “Lemme see… This is harsh for my old eyes.” Mariela and Ghark carefully observed the cross section of the broken lava-stone. “Is it…alive?” Sieg asked dubiously as he peered over Mariela’s head. Freyja, who had been poking around the lava pools by herself with a metal pole, suddenly deigned to join the group. “It’d be faster to get it out of the rock if that was the case.” Cooled molten rock stuck to the end of the long pole Freyja carried, but around it was something resembling creeping ivy or the roots of a plant. Upon closer inspection, it was moving, too, albeit extremely slowly. The same plantlike thing was in the cross section of the rock Mariela and the others were looking at, but since it had crawled into the rock and only a bit of it appeared in the cross section, it was difficult to spot without close observation. Since they each had special means of recognition—Ghark with Appraisal, Mariela with alchemy, and Sieg with the Spirit Eye—they’d each been able to spot it: a rootlike lava-dwelling creature with thin feelers. Mariela had read about something matching this description, called fibrous lava, molten rock with a particular mineral composition. Yet when she and the others observed it using their special skills or divine protection, the thing was unmistakably a living creature. The reason such a thing hadn’t been decisively classified as an organism was due to its makeup. Unlike people, animals, and plants, the foundation of this creature’s composition was closer to something like sand. It could move around freely in high temperatures like lava, but when the lava hardened like this, it apparently died from the cold. The group cautiously observed the fibrous lava Freyja had caught with her pole and found that the tips of the thin feelers split into five or six branches like a starfish, and it seemed to be budding even further. If a scholar well acquainted with oceanography took a look, they would probably say it resembled a basket star. This strange creature was harder than steel right now, yet it was so brittle it would crumble if you tapped it with an adamantite needle. “I think it’d be best if I take the whole rock to the Labyrinth Suppression Forces’ base.” “Yes, please, Mr. Ghark.” Ghark waved his hand in a dismissive “don’t worry about it” kind of gesture. Mariela and Sieg bowed their heads to him. The old man was still unaware that Mariela was an alchemist, but he seemed perfectly happy to take charge of harvesting activities, even in such a hot stratum. “Young lady, ye’ve got other things to do, don’t ye? Leave this place to me, and hurry on up the stairs. It’s dangerous here, and just watchin’ ye makes me nervous,” he told Mariela. When she thanked him and turned in Freyja’s direction, Mariela saw her master once again plunging her pole into a pool of lava and industriously collecting fibrous lava. “Master is actually harvesting…” This was unheard of. Mariela half expected there to be rain on the fifty-sixth stratum tomorrow. A downpour that would harden everything here to steaming rock. What other reason could there have been for her master to work so hard? “Marielaaa, these lava starfish are so funny! If I poke them with the pole, they wrap around it right away! I’ve got a big catch! They’re biting at every cast! Whoo-hoo!!!” Somehow, Freyja had gotten hooked on those mysterious creatures, even giving them the name lava starfish. After they twined around the tip of her pole, Freyja hauled them up, and they cooled and hardened. After several repetitions of this, Freyja had built up a huge ball of them on the tip of the pole. The sage seemed quite engrossed as she industriously poked the lava. Her eyes shone far brighter than they usually did as she moved about excitedly. A high density of fibrous lava was wrapped around the tip of Freyja’s pole. As alchemical reagents, there could’ve been no better state for them to be in. However, lava pools were not transparent. Above all, the luminescence caused by the high temperature meant one couldn’t even stare at the puddles directly. They knew the fibrous lava didn’t stick to a pole thrust into the lava at random. So perhaps Freyja’s eyes could somehow spot the fibrous lava, and that directed where she poked the long metal rod. “I wonder what’s going on with my master’s eyes. Sieg, can you tell?” “No, the light the lava emits is too strong, and even if I stare with my Spirit Eye, it starts to burn.” Freyja seemed to be having so much fun that Mariela and Sieg were content to leave her. The two quietly went up the stratum stairs together. At this rate, Freyja would probably collect however much needed to adequately explore how to process the unusual creatures all on her own. Mariela’s group had a good reason for coming to gather these things that previously weren’t even known to be alive. They were looking for a secondary material to use in a special potion that incorporated all four types of dragon blood. Mariela had reached a sufficient level of proficiency to make the concoction. Usually the Library disclosed all the main and secondary materials, telling the young alchemist everything she needed. However, in this particular case, the letters naming the secondary materials were hazy, as if they were behind frosted glass. Despite great effort, Mariela couldn’t decipher them. “This potion unifies the four elements, which by all rights should be impossible to assimilate. The reason differing and incompatible things can exist close to each other in this world is because they have forms as individuals or as races. What I mean is, even with the same fire-type dragon blood, you have this red dragon that was born and raised in the Labyrinth, and then there are black fire dragons that live in a red-hot area known as the Earth’s Navel. Each requires a different secondary material in order to intermingle with the blood of other dragons.” Freyja had given actual masterly guidance for once. Since that was the case, Mariela expected her teacher to tell her what was needed for this combination. But Freyja refused, only saying, “The refining process starts with discovery. You haven’t crystallized the red dragon blood or the earth dragon blood yet. You should try looking at them and thinking carefully about what makes them what they are.” When Mariela heeded the advice and looked for anything in common between the red dragon and earth dragon, she got a hunch that a hint lay in this stratum of fire and stone, the very place where the red dragon had dwelled. From there, she perused books from the Aguinas and Schutzenwald estates, all relating to lava zones. Mariela gathered specimens and finally hit upon the idea of the fibrous lava. Although the young alchemist had previously learned about materials and processing methods from the Library, she was now searching for it on her own in the wild, just as the predecessors who’d left all that knowledge in the Library once had. The fibrous lava Mariela’s group found probably hadn’t been recorded in the Library as a secondary material because it lacked versatility, but Mariela had the feeling she’d grown a little more as an alchemist by finding the material like this. Dragon blood contained toxins. It was said that the blood of earth dragons melted rocks and the blood of red dragons burned all living things it touched to ashes. One would shake up dragon blood with several types of oil with different melting temperatures and then separate them. The toxins were removed by repeating this process many times over. In the case of earth dragon blood, three types of oil were needed. Red dragon blood required even more kinds, as well as a higher temperature, to process. Even after the toxins were removed, the boiling trait of the red dragon blood and the ability of the earth dragon blood to easily dissolve the ground didn’t disappear. The fibrous lava Mariela somehow managed to find was the optimum material for blending these two blood types. It was to be cooled at a temperature so low it would turn the alchemist’s very breath to liquid. Then the material was finely crushed and finally sifted from the ordinary lava with swirling wind. When medicinal crystals of earth dragon blood were added to fibrous lava that had been reduced to a fine black powder, the powder immediately became a liquid. If one added plenty of Drops of Life to it in this state, it formed air bubbles, as if it was boiling, despite the low temperature. It would continue to bubble and swell until it reached around double its previous volume. Adding red dragon blood medicinal crystals at this point caused the bubbles to multiply tremendously, taking the form of a fine froth. Manipulating the Transmutation Vessel to make sure the temperature stayed the same was crucial. Otherwise, all the Drops of Life would be lost. Great caution was required. Keeping up with the rapid change was the part that worried the slightly clumsy Mariela the most. “Phew, I did it.” The reddish-brown liquid resulting from the procedure had a muddy color by nature yet gave off an intense light, as lava did. It looked like the exact opposite of the verdigris liquid medicine created by blending the water-type philoroilcus and the wind-type wigglertrill. That brew had used frost tree flowers, a material obtained in the stratum of ice and snow. As its name suggested, a frost tree flower was a bloom that grew on the tip of a frost-covered tree. Such trees were a natural phenomenon in which ice clung to plants in below-freezing environments and made them look like ice sculptures. If it was just ordinary ice, it didn’t cause flowers to bloom. However, if the ice came from fragments blown off ice-type monsters by the wind and then fallen to rest on frozen trees, ice flowers would bloom, though only after a long period of time. Such flowers were wondrous and beautiful, shining faintly and swaying in snowy gales. Unfortunately, they had the tendency to attract ice and wind monsters, making them very difficult to harvest. Unsurprisingly, Edgan was the one who undertook the task, facing down monsters and suffering through the bitter cold. “Ah, Edgan, yeah? Perfect timing! There’s some flowers I want.” “How very, very modest of you to want flowers! Certainly, any flower would fade and wilt before your beauty. But if it’s flowers you want, I will go to the ends of the earth to pick them, or my name isn’t Edgan!” Such a situation had become fairly common, right down to Sieg being dragged along for the ride. It had become so commonplace Mariela had even forgotten about it. Regardless, thanks to the frost tree flowers, she was able to blend the water- and wind-type dragon blood. “Next, I need to combine these two, but…” Mariela took out the last material she’d stored. They were lovely flowers made of blue, green, and yellow crystals. They made a light sound, like pieces of thin glass clinking together, as she took them from the box. These were plants that bloomed in a zone called the Sacred Tree Cemetery, said to be in an interval between strata somewhere in the Labyrinth. The cemetery was a place where many sacred trees swallowed by the Stampede had come to rest. Submerged in what looked like a shallow underground lake, the great trees had petrified and turned white. Despite how withered they’d become, the effects of the plants were still quite potent. Their resting place was one free of monsters, despite being in the middle of the Labyrinth. The Labyrinth supplied magical power even to this haven, and while that should have created monsters, the energy instead inhabited crystals, which then budded, grew, and bloomed like plants. The blossoms transformed into butterflies that danced and flitted through the Sacred Tree Cemetery, making it quite a beautiful setting. The crystal-born things flew around until they used up all their strength, and when the magical power ran out, they turned back into crystal fragments and fell. Fallen crystals melted into the water or the earth in the cemetery and disappeared. When enough magical power was stored again, the crystals would bloom and become butterflies once more. The unusual flowers of the Sacred Tree Cemetery couldn’t be harvested as they were. Here, the conflicting energies of the sacred trees and the Labyrinth coexisted; when the flowers were removed, they crumbled and vanished in an instant. However, if a person poured their magical power into them to make them bloom, for some reason they remained flowers instead of becoming butterflies. This made it possible to gather the blossoms. Ghark had previously taken Mariela, Freyja, Sieg, Emily, Pallois, and Elio to harvest this material together. Due to Nierenberg’s unexpected situation, Sherry had been unable to attend and had seemed extremely disappointed, so Elio gave her the crystal flowers he’d collected as a present. As a result, Mariela didn’t get his portion of the harvest, but she still had plenty from gathering her own, as well as what Sieg and her master had contributed. Curiously, the flowers bloomed with the color of the eyes of whoever poured their magical power into them, so it was obvious who’d made each flower blossom. Coexistence of the energies of the sacred trees and the Labyrinth should have been impossible by all accounts. What allowed them to be fixed in a form that could exist even within the Labyrinth was the magical power of humans—was this mere irony? Human magic was the very thing that had severed the relationship between Endalsia and the monsters. Or did the magical power of Mariela and the others instead take away the ability of these flowers to fly through the air as butterflies? When those fragile, ephemeral petals, which seemed likely to break from the slightest touch, absorbed the liquid medicine made from water and wind dragon blood, the leaves and stems became transparent, like sculpted water. When the liquid medicine made from fire and earth dragon blood was applied, the petals turned a color resembling blazing, fiery magma. “Should I Dehydrate them…? No, what they probably need is Transposition.” As flowers, stems, and leaves, they needed a deeper connection. Mariela felt the flowers’ current shape was probably a concept to build on. In order to spread the few junction points over a wider area, the young alchemist shifted the places where they were joined and changed their skeletal structure. Mariela altered the shape of the flowers little by little in a Transmutation Vessel filled with Drops of Life until they became small lumps with marble patterns. “This is still no good. They’re just finely dispersed, not combined into one.” Mariela heated the dragon blood within the Transmutation Vessel to nearly a thousand degrees. Neither iron nor stone melted at that temperature. But the colossal amount of energy stabilized the fire and earth dragon blood and withstood the power of water and wind. The instant everything melted together uniformly, Mariela lowered the temperature to below freezing as fast as she possibly could so that she could secure the mixture in its blended state. “Looks like I managed to do it. But it’s still a little too forced and distorted. I need to raise the temperature a bit and stabilize it…” After she repeated the temperature-raising and preservation process several times, the murky dragon energy finally adapted, unified, and changed into a transparent sphere. “Now, if I soak it for three days and three nights in ley-line shards dissolved in Drops of Life until it cleanly dissolves…that should complete it, I think. Though it’d be better if they never needed to use this kind of potion at all…” Mariela had finally uniformly blended the ingredients of the mixture. Sensing its immense power, she averted her eyes from the potion’s radiance, just a little. Dragon blood contained toxins. It had tremendous energy and magical power completely incomparable to those of ordinary humans. Contained within was the vitality to live for an eternity if the dragon was fortunate enough to survive trillions of struggles for survival. All of it was beyond human understanding. This was what drove dragons to live as they did: the tremendous power of their blood. What kind of miracle lay within this blend of all four conflicting elements? Was such a power—incorporating not just the power of the ley line, but also the power of dragons—something that could be granted to people without a price? “No matter what…we’ll all survive together.” Mariela reached for the dragon blood medicinal crystals to create the next potion.
Chapter 182
68 min read