Over several centuries, the imperial capital had expanded to an impressive degree. The sewers were built shortly after the capital had been relocated and had grown labyrinthine over the years. At some point, it grew too complex to be fully managed by humans and became part of the underworld.
Many different creatures lurked in the sewage that flowed beneath the city. Rats, cockroaches, spiders, and other small creatures. There were also people who had been banished from the surface world. And there were monsters. Rumors of fiends living in the sewers formed their own genre of urban legend.
These lords of the underworld lurked in the sewer water, swimming through the maze of tunnels in search of new prey. It was commonly supposed that there were aquatic monsters that had spent many years living underground and growing powerful, but nobody had proven or disproven this.
Whenever teams went down to perform maintenance, they did so in large numbers, a policy that was the result of the many knights and hunters who had been killed surveying the sewers. The lords of the sewers didn’t attack large groups.
“I didn’t think the Thousand Tricks would have any interest in urban legends.”
“Hunters are generally curious people. Anything that drank the Strawberry Blaze should be unable to move for the time being. Perhaps if we went now, even a small team would be enough to conduct an investigation?”
“Not a bad idea. I also know a few nobles interested in those fiends.”
Even if they were enough to become subjects of urban legends, fiends were still living creatures. If they drank undiluted Strawberry Blaze, they’d be helpless. A captured fiend could be useful for alchemical research. Likewise, reactions from a creature affected by the thrall potion could help determine the potion’s components.
Since the Thousand Tricks was getting rid of it anyway, there was nothing wrong with trying to snag some of it for themselves. Nickolaf figured that if he brought Sitri along, that man wouldn’t do anything bold.
“Get ready, Sitri. We’re going underground. Not that I need to tell you, but don’t forget your protective gear. This is all in the name of advancing the Primus Institute!”
If they could understand even a bit about the thrall potion’s components, getting arrested would be a small price to pay. Nickolaf forgot his earlier indignation as he turned around and began giving orders to his former apprentice.
Before the worship hall of the imperial capital’s Church of the Radiant Spirit stood the man in charge, Edgar Whinwood. He let out a sigh as he gazed up at the crucified Marin’s Lament. The church’s hands had already been full dealing with this nightmare, and now the return of the vanished priests had been added to the chaotic mix.
Nobody understood what was going on. Many of them had disappeared years or decades ago, and their identities were yet to be verified. All they knew for sure was that these priests had been released by the Thousand Tricks, the man who had taken that chest off their hands, and that he had used the phrase “spirited away.”
“I can’t fathom how he possibly could’ve found the missing people in just half a day. Terms like ‘skilled’ no longer feel sufficient. I’d say your friend is on the world’s good side.”
Ansem, childhood friend of the Thousand Tricks and symbol of the capital branch, nodded. “Mmm.”
Sometimes, there are people who can accomplish feats unimaginable to an ordinary person. Edgar had been quite surprised when Ansem first introduced his friend. Even now, that young man’s flaky demeanor hadn’t changed. Yet during the purification, that man had held the attention of Captain Franz, Branch Manager Gark, Ark Rodin, and many other notable hunters. He must have been born under the star of a champion.
“Spirited away, was it?” Edgar said. “Regardless of how it happened, the fact is that he saved our friends. With this and Marin’s Lament, we’re in his debt. Our priests may not care much for him, but courtesy must never be neglected.”
The reason so many priests weren’t fond of that young man was because he was the leader of that party Ansem belonged to, Grieving Souls. They regularly heard of the party’s fierce battles. Word of how Lucia Rogier had cast an advanced offensive spell over Ansem was already beginning to circulate. Nobody was going to hear something like that and walk away with a good impression. Ansem had become a hunter before he joined the church, and he didn’t seem to mind getting hit by the spell, but human emotions were complex.
Their current top priority was dealing with Marin’s Lament, but once the Noble Shaman arrived and completed the purification, Edgar was considering formally inviting the young man to the church so that they might clear up any hard feelings. That young man had saved the vanished priests; Edgar didn’t think his cohorts would repay such a debt with disrespect.
“Still,” Edgar said with a pained sigh. “Spirited away? I don’t know which spirit or god did that, but I feel we have too many troublesome deities in this world of ours.”
“Mmm.”
There was the Celestial God from the Shrine of the Celestial God, the Level 10 treasure vault that once manifested outside the imperial capital. A good while ago, there was the Executor, the god sleeping in the Shrine of the Holy King, which was the vault that raised the level of Xerxes Zequenz, the most powerful hunter alive. Humans were right to fear the phantom gods that manifested from extreme concentrations of mana material. Some research even suggested that several past civilizations had been destroyed by such supernatural entities.
Thinking about this caused Edgar to remember something Ansem had once said.
“That’s right,” he said, placing a hand on his chin, “the Heavenly Fox you met in Peregrine Lodge was another such god. The divine have really taken a liking to you and your friends. I just hope it isn’t an ill omen.”
“Mm. Mm.”
Did Ansem really understand what Edgar was saying? His reticence was one of his few flaws.
The return of the vanished priests meant more fighting power for the church. Reportedly, some of them were capable casters. The recently exhausted priests would also likely be recovered by the time Lapis and her party returned with the Noble Shaman.
With renewed determination, Edgar knelt down next to Ansem, looked to the sky, and offered a prayer to the great god of light.