In the Land of Leadale - Volume 7 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - A Registration Desk, a Misunderstanding, a Mother and Child and Preparations

Shortly before Cayna’s savagery sent Viper’s Belly into a tailspin of torment, Opus arrived at the tourney registration desk outside the eastern gate. Accompanied by Siren and wearing a black robe with gold accents, he cut an intimidating figure whose piercing gaze alone sent the small male receptionist sitting there into a trembling fit.

“H-hullo, this is the tourney regis… W-wait, sir! I swear I’ve done no wrong. Don’t drag me away… Huh? That ain’t it?”

For whatever reason, Opus’s towering frame alone caused the man to mistake him for a micromanaging official.

“Whoa now, don’t go scarin’ me like that. I coulda sworn you were a noble, what with that servant and all.”

“I heard this is the place to register for the tourney.”

Felskeilo’s eastern gate was pretty much the only thing in sight. Aside from a nearby gatekeeper occasionally checking the identity of a foot traveler or carriage, all was relatively quiet. Opus had expected an influx of tourney hopefuls, but just as he’d heard from Skargo earlier, no other participants were around.

“Y-yes, sir. This here is the registration area. I know there’s not much turnout, but that’s been the case every year. Records say folks haven’t lined up for over a century.”

“Hmph. So it seems.”

“I bet you’re feelin’ let down, but I’m a proper soldier of this country. You came all this way to enter the tournament, right? Here, take a registration form. All you gotta do is submit your name.”

Opus read over the form and noticed it asked only for the name of a party representative, the number of members, and a team name. Pretty sloppy, really.

“Might I ask a few questions?” Opus asked, hand on his chin.

“Sure, I’ll answer what I can,” the man said with an exaggerated nod.

“First of all, can a full mercenary group fight together at once?”

“Ah. Apologies, sir, but no can do.” The man dismissed Opus’s query with a wave of his hand. “Both sides gotta have at least the same number and no more. Unless you’re up against twenty mercenaries, they’re usually in groups of five or six.”

“I see. So we can’t surpass the smallest party.”

The minimum party rule was from the Game Era. The max number for a single party was six, and this too had apparently carried over into the modern world.

“I can enter solo, correct?”

“Oh, no, sir, you can’t go fightin’ a team tournament all on your own. There’s a three-person minimum—the sign over there says just as much. Wait. What? Is the young lady gonna join, too? Hey now, pittin’ your servants against those brutes is crazy talk. Why not mull it over some more?”

“I will be perfectly fine, but thank you for your concern,” Siren told the man with a light bow of her head. “This, too, is the duty of a servant. Please do not worry.”

The man fell silent and grimaced. He then frowned upon realizing something else.

“So you and your maid plan to enter? But aren’t you short one?”

“Our third member is busy right now, but we’ll meet up later.”

The man accepted Opus’s shoddy excuse without much of a fight. The city was packed in anticipation of the tourney, so he arbitrarily decided this third person could’ve been busy securing lodging or provisions.

“You oughtta quit while you’re ahead, before someone gets hurt or worse…but man, there are some real nutcases in this world. Me, I already quit while I was ahead. That way, I don’t got any regrets.”

“And yet, not quitting means you have to have a keen eye,” Opus pointed out.

The receptionist flinched. “So you know how it is. You’ve got a pretty keen eye yourself, eh, sir?”

“True, I don’t miss much. But no need to be so tense; I’m not going to reveal anything.”

“Phew, my life flashed before my eyes. You’ve got a terrifying aura, sir. You meet our criteria and then some. It’s just…”

“‘Just’? Just what?”

“Pretty sure most of the decent preliminary requests were taken already. I doubt you’ll finish in just a few days, but good luck.”

“And here I thought you’d be in charge of assignments as well. How disappointing.”

“Ah, I just send unqualified folk off to fake preliminaries. That’s over already, so no need to worry.”

Opus had no clue these “fake preliminaries” were the very thing Cayna would deal with later. An outrageous battle likely would have unfolded if he’d figured this out, but he was fortunate the small man had a keen eye.

“Here. Take this card to the Adventurers Guild. Like I said, there’s a preliminary test. Use that to get the guild to appoint you to a special request, and if you finish at least two days before the tourney starts, they’ll give you an emblem to participate. Bring that back here and you pass the test.”

“Two days before the tourney, you say? I wonder what sort of request can be accomplished in three days…”

“Only five days till the tournament. You got your work cut out for you, sir. Good luck.”

Opus was out of his mind to enter the tourney at the last minute. He’d been planning to hide the truth from Cayna all along, so he deserved whatever he had coming to him.

“At any rate, Master, what will we do about our third member?” Siren asked with a tired sigh as she and Opus headed to the Adventurers Guild. It was a natural question, since she couldn’t think of anyone else who might team up with them. “Don’t tell me you’re going to try and include Lady Cayna?”

“Look, no one in this entire world would stand a chance if we teamed up.”

Even on his own, Opus was already guaranteed victory, and that was what had Siren so exasperated. If he purposefully drew attention to himself, his future plans would alert players to his existence.

Most Cream Cheese guild members had a degree of fame within the game. Among these, the names and faces of Opus and sub-leader Ebelope were especially well known; Opus often served as commander in times of war and handled most livestreamed interviews. Ebelope was especially popular among male players, thanks to her famous figure and title as Sin City. Cayna, on the other hand, had been more involved in the high elf community rather than the guild. She might not have been so quickly outed as a Skill Master if she’d never used her Silver Ring.

There were a few players Opus was stubbornly targeting, though they were the exception rather than the rule.

Whether he liked it or not, he planned to use himself as a living billboard. To do this, he needed a place to attract the masses and spread his name beyond the tournament. Such an opportunity was rare in this era.

However, he also predicted that a certain percentage of the masses included resentful players who would fly at him in a rage.

But hey, everything would work out somehow. The issue at hand was finding a third party member.

The quickest solution was to use Summoning Magic. However, the humanoid ones ran the gamut, and the rest were often grotesque. Opus was concerned the spectators might shirk in fear.

“I suppose it’s come to this…”

Opus looked at a certain thing he’d taken from his pocket, and Siren’s face contorted in shock.

“Hello, and welcome to the Adventurers Guild. How may I help you today? …Ah, yes. I understand. You’d like a request for the team tourney preliminaries, correct? Right this way, then.”

Soon after speaking with the Adventurers Guild receptionist, three request documents were placed facedown in front of Opus for him to choose from. He immediately flipped over the one in the middle; its contents left the guild employee visibly stunned.

“‘Personal delivery for the manager of Sakaiya’? What’s this?” Opus asked as he read the objective with a puzzled head tilt.

“Ah, yes. Allow me to explain. Your mission is to retrieve an emblem from the owner of Sakaiya in Helshper to signify you have passed the preliminary examination.”

The employee’s apologetic expression only made Opus more confused. He had no clue why they were looking at him like that.

As far as the guild employee was concerned, even if a promising party did show up, it would be impossible to make a round trip to and from Helshper within three days of the tournament deadline. Moreover, arranging a personal meeting with the manager of Sakaiya was extremely difficult. Even if one had a sealed letter of introduction from an acquaintance and was fortunate enough to be approved for a private audience, it was common knowledge the process would take well over a month.

“Hmph. I’ll figure something out,” Opus mumbled. He ignored these concerns and left the guild.

Then, right after the dumbstruck employee saw him off…

“Can he really do it in three days?”

“…Hey, that demon didn’t exactly have a party with him. You think he’s doing this solo?”

“No way. You need at least three people to join the team tourney, and besides, he should’ve already been cleared by registration.”

“G-good point! He must have been representing the party! That lady behind him couldn’t have been a fighter!”

“…Is the maid going to join him in the tournament?”

“You can’t be serious!”

“Even if we pry into these adventurers’ lives, there’s very little we can do. At most we can offer suitable requests that have a high survival rate… Granted, there are a few exceptions.”

“Ah, you mean Miss Cayna. I wonder why we haven’t seen her lately.”

“I heard she adopted a child, if you can believe it. Apparently she’s just settled down in some village.”

“You think maybe she found a nice husband for herself?”

“Who knows? Come on, let’s get back to work.”

“Ah, sorry. Hello, and welcome to the Adventurers Guild. How may I—?”

The guild employees who saw Opus off enjoyed some lively conversation but relegated him to a corner of their minds once they got back on the clock.

“Agh, my shoulders feel stiff for some reason.”

The morning after Opus registered for the preliminaries, Cayna yawned with a large stretch and rotated her shoulders.

“Well, Mother, did the bed suit you?”

“I’d say it felt strange more than anything else.”

Unfortunately, Cayna was most familiar with her hospital bed. Even her bed in the remote village was similarly firm, so she had trouble sleeping on the unfamiliar fluffiness of the bed in the baron family’s home

She yawned again, and Mai-Mai smiled tenderly.

What looked like a mother getting her sleepyhead daughter ready for the day was actually the opposite: The younger-looking Cayna was the mother, and the mature-looking Mai-Mai was the daughter.

“Thanks for letting me crash here, Mai-Mai.”

“Not at all. If you’re planning to stay in Felskeilo for the tourney, I’m more than happy to host.”

Cayna had been searching for lodging the previous day after finishing her job as a preliminary examiner, but even her usual places were booked. Just as she thought about heading back to the village, Mai-Mai invited her to the baron’s home.

“Still, is it really okay for you to put up an adventurer like me?” Cayna asked.

A while back, Kartatz had questioned whether an adventurer should visit a baron’s house. However, when Mai-Mai brought Cayna home and asked Lopus, the head of the household, he’d said, “What? Feel bad if you want, but it doesn’t matter to me.” Clearly, Kartatz’s concerns had been way off the mark.

His worries were further invalidated when Mai-Mai insisted, “What’s wrong with inviting Mother over?!” According to the Harvey family’s butler, nobles often hired famous adventurers to protect their homes, so no one would question their coming and going by this point.

If anything, Cayna was a celebrity in her own right, even if she didn’t realize it; she’d already met the royal family and knew both the princess and the knights. Mai-Mai’s invitation was unexpected, but the Harvey family’s household staff welcomed Cayna warmly: They pampered her with food, a bath, and a massage. Lopus’s parents or Kartatz or Skargo were the only infrequent guests, so the staff felt underutilized.

“What are your plans today, Mother?”

“Hmm. I thought I’d pop by the tower, and…,” Cayna started before turning to Mai-Mai. “Hey, Mai-Mai—everything good on your end?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you have to be at the Academy?”

“Oh, I appreciate your concern, but it’s quite all right.”

“Really?”

“Yes, we’re closed during the tourney. The Academy has many aristocratic students, so it will be an issue of safety if the knights are overworked.”

“You mean there’s not enough knights? What’s up with this country?”

“If anything, it’s because our main force enters the tourney each year. Many also want to work security at the Battle Arena, and fights have broken out over open spots.”

“…Sheesh.”

The situation was apparently worse than Skargo said and prevalent among the knights. Their efforts would be in vain, however, since Opus planned to enter this year. It would all depend on the matchups, but Cayna feared he’d wipe the floor with everyone the second the games began.

Note that her actions the previous day did not fall into the same category.

“I wonder if things’ll be okay.”

“What things, pray tell?” came a very familiar voice.

“Well, I’m kind of worried Opus might heartlessly trample over everyone… Huh?”

Cayna was face to face with Opus, who had Siren right behind him. She was positive he’d used his connection abilities to somehow appear out of thin air. He really lived up to his bully reputation.

Cayna’s train of thought came to a temporary halt. “Huh? Just now…?”

“What’s wrong, Mother? Did this person do something to you?”

Mai-Mai pattered over to Cayna and hugged her tightly from behind, all the while pulling her in close like a protective mama bear to keep her safe from Opus.

Cayna paid this no mind; her head was spinning with questions, for instance: How was she able to anticipate Opus’s actions so accurately?

Theory 1: Opus was corrupting her. This was the most logical explanation, though Cayna herself found it hard to believe.

Theory 2: Opus had mentioned his plans earlier, and a burst of intuition struck her.

However, since that hunch was not thanks to the Intuition skill itself, Cayna couldn’t pinpoint where such confidence actually came from.

Theory 3: She’d always known he was that kind of person, but the real question was when “always” began. Even Cayna no longer knew the answer, since she felt just as real as Keina. In a mere instant, the existence known as Cayna had been pulled apart and reconstructed by some pivotal factor. That was the best way she could explain herself.

“My head’s a mess…”

“Mother?!”

A wave of nausea hit Cayna, and she covered her mouth. Mai-Mai gently patted her back; Opus grimaced as a pleasantness filled the air that continued until Cayna’s queasiness abated.

“Hrm,” she said. “The Purity spell works when you feel sick…”

“It only took one brief spell. Don’t you feel guilty for worrying your daughter?” Opus asked, sparing a thought for Mai-Mai.

“Yeah. Sorry about that, Mai-Mai.”

Cayna’s daughter didn’t recognize this demon acquaintance, and her knees wouldn’t stop shaking.

“Oh, let me introduce you, Mai-Mai. This is my old, terrible friend, Opus. He’s got a scary face and twisted personality, but he’s not a bad guy.”

“If I ever let you write my profile, I have a feeling it’d look like a Wanted poster…,” Opus said, annoyed that she introduced his negative qualities first.

“He’s a genius when it comes to messing around with people, though.”

It was more or less complimentary. However, this was all it took for Mai-Mai’s eyes to light up. Her fear dissolved as if it had all been an optical illusion, and she fixed her sparkling gaze on Opus.

“Mother.”

“What’s up?”

Mai-Mai gazed earnestly at the demon, her hands clasped in front of her like a lovelorn maiden. Cayna was struck with an ominous sense of dread.

“This man perfectly fits the description Skargo gave me. Could he be our father?”

“Buh?!”

“Oh.”

“Hah?”

“Ahhh.”

“Ah.”

There were five different reactions.

The first was from Cayna. Since the father she’d described to Skargo was based on Opus, it was only natural that Mai-Mai came to the same conclusion. However, the insinuation that Opus was Cayna’s husband resulted in a backlash that would have been no less chilling in jest.

The next came from Kee, who had foreseen this scenario but unfortunately failed to keep Cayna from speaking.

The third reaction implied Give me a damn break and belonged to the very person who had inspired Cayna’s fictional mystery man.

That was her own fault for forgetting how she’d described her children’s father once before.

The fourth reaction was from Siren, who was relieved that she hadn’t gotten caught in the crossfire.

Last but not least came Kuu, who didn’t understand what was going on but hopped on the bandwagon anyway. She probably thought it was some kind of word game.

“No, that’s not it! You’ve got it all wrong, Mai-Mai!”

“Really? But Skargo said that’s what you told him, Mother.”

The word craaaap flew around in Cayna’s head. She remembered using Opus’s exact image to describe their father to Skargo, but she’d never in a million years imagined something like this would happen.

Well, no amount of regret could take back those careless words. But perhaps there was a way to gloss over this awkward situation and fool Mai-Mai.

“Listen, Mai-Mai. If I married this guy, he’d turn you all into lab rats and have you on the operating table before the night’s over!” she said, drawing closer to Mai-Mai and pointing a finger at Opus.

“Whaaat?!” Mai-Mai cried in a fluster.

“…Oh, come on,” the accused said indignantly behind them.

“Lady Cayna, that analogy was quite… Pfft.”

Siren tried to protest but couldn’t get the words out. Upon closer inspection, her shoulders were trembling with laughter; Cayna had apparently hit a funny bone. Siren’s giggling made Opus’s expression sour even further.

“Cayna,” he said icily. “I may be mild-mannered, but even I am capable of anger.”

“Oops, sorry.”

Cayna apologized for going overboard, although the problem was far from resolved.

The father of Cayna’s Foster Children was the game system itself, so Cayna was now truly their parent in every sense of the word. And since the father of that system was essentially Opus, he was, in a way, their father as well. Mai-Mai already mistakenly believed that Cayna and the other Skill Masters were messengers of the ancients, so she’d be easily convinced that she was Opus’s child.

That said, explaining the purpose of the sub-characters and Foster Children and everything that came with them would be a real struggle.

“Mother?”

“Sorry, Mai-Mai. Opus definitely isn’t your father. Trust me on that if nothing else. Not that I can explain why, though.”

“Mother…”

Opus looked at Mai-Mai’s crestfallen expression and Cayna’s drooped head. He murmured “Sheesh” and stepped forward.

If Opus wanted to accomplish his objective here, he couldn’t leave the two of them depressed. He decided to yield just a little bit so that he could complete his request as painlessly as possible.

“You, Cayna’s daughter—your father is my blood relative.”

“What?!”

“Opus?!”

Both Mai-Mai and Cayna reeled, as if to say, Where did that come from?

It was an offhand lie; there was no mistake Opus was technically related to the system by blood.

He figured that saying Mai-Mai’s father “definitely existed” would be more encouraging than “We don’t know anything about him,” even if that meant sticking with the past tense.

Opus did, however, leave the “father’s” race vague. He had no way of knowing every little detail of Cayna’s invented backstory. Mai-Mai and her siblings would likely fill in the blanks later.

“I see. So would that make you my uncle, Sir Opus?”

“‘Uncle…’”

In the end, Cayna had no choice but to reluctantly accept that Opus had become a relative. She really wasn’t a fan.

“Like me, he has been a family member of sorts since the very beginning. I see no issue with keeping him around.”

Needless to say, Kee’s consolation had little effect.

“I don’t think I’ll get used to this until the shock wears off…”

Cayna didn’t mind cohabiting with Opus initially, but as far as she was concerned, there was a world of difference between relatives and longtime friends.

Opus and Mai-Mai chatted amicably despite Cayna’s visible despondency.

“Can you tell me more about Father, Uncle Opus?”

“He was an even greater prankster than me. His mischief couldn’t be beat.”

“My goodness! So that’s what he was like, then. I must tell Skargo and Kartatz.”

“…I…may have gotten ahead of myself…”

“? What was that just now?”

“Ah, nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’d like to tell my brothers any information you have about our father. I do hope you’ll tell me more about him soon, Uncle Opus.”

“Yeah. Well, one of these days.”

…Hey, Opus, aren’t you digging your own grave here?

“This time, he is the one inventing a fictitious younger brother.”

Cayna was relieved to clear up any misunderstandings, but now Mai-Mai was grilling Opus for details about a younger brother that didn’t actually exist. She was simply curious and meant no harm.

Cayna tore at her hair when she realized they’d need to hammer out a consistent backstory. Opus tried to deal with Mai-Mai’s persistent interest in her fake father, then turned back to Cayna.

“Ah, right. I have a favor to ask of you.”

“A favor? From you? I smell trouble.”

Cayna had long since realized Opus always approached her whenever he was up to something.

“No, my motives are innocent this time.”

“Asking me for something that isn’t a scheme? That’s rare.”

“Is it? I ask these sorts of things of you all the time.”

“Hmm, I dunno…”

“…Pardon my intrusion, Lady Cayna. Master Opus would like you to write him a letter of introduction.”

Siren watched her masters deliberate over the subject and stepped in once she realized they were getting nowhere.

“Like a referral letter? To who?”

Cayna considered who might need one from her. Otaloquess’s Queen Sahalashade and Felskeilo’s Princess Myleene immediately came to mind. There was also the knight captain Shining Saber, High Priest Skargo, Helshper knight instructor Caerina, and Sakaiya founder Caerick. Cayna’s horror increased as she ran down the list of elites.

“It’s for Sakaiya.”

““For Caerick?!”” Cayna and Mai-Mai shouted in unison.

They hadn’t expected that name to come up. Cayna didn’t believe Opus had any use for merchants.

“No, Master Opus is not acquainting himself with merchants now of all times,” Siren said, confirming Cayna’s thoughts.

“In order to pass the tourney preliminary, I have to head to Sakaiya.”

“I knew it—you really are entering.” Cayna acquiesced, exhausted.

“Hmm? Are you going to join the tourney, Uncle Opus?” Mai-Mai looked shocked. “Mother, is he…?”

“Yeah, he’s a Skill Master like me.”

“…We’re all doomed, aren’t we?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll deck Opus before he even has the chance to pull anything.”

Mother and daughter were both savagely mistrusting.

“Hey, Cayna. If you’re going to talk about me behind my back, at least wait until I’m not around. How about showing me a bit more respect?”

“I mean, I know I’m not really one to talk, but you’ve got enough examples of bad behavior to fill a whole book.”

As usual, Opus gave up trying to explain his screwups, since it was pointless to complain. He had a feeling she’d make up some reason to deck him anyway.

“By ‘letter of introduction,’ does he mean like the letter you had me deliver to Caerick?”

“Yes, that’s right, Mother.”

“What did you write to Caerick back then, anyway?”

Mai-Mai wasn’t sure why Cayna had decided to ask after so long, but she answered honestly.

“I suppose it was something along the lines of, ‘The person who gave you this is your grandmother.’”

“Huh, I guess that counts as a letter of introduction.”

“No, that only counts as one among your relatives,” Opus griped.

“I usually endorse the person delivering the letter,” said Mai-Mai. “I talk about their various accomplishments and how they would benefit the recipient.”

“Hmm.”

“Does that make sense to you, Mother?”

“Yeah, I just don’t think there’s any good way to explain that Opus is a harmless demon.”

Siren and Mai-Mai’s mouths twitched at the same time. Opus scowled at his maid’s undisguised laughter, and Mai-Mai did her best not to giggle.

“How ’bout we come along?” Kuu piped up reasonably. She’d been perched atop Cayna’s shoulder swinging her legs back and forth, watching everyone.

Cayna heard this and struck a fist against her palm.

“Yeah. If we go together, we can make a beeline for Caerick.”

“Hm? Do you mean right now?” asked Mai-Mai.

Since Opus couldn’t afford to wait several days, he decided to teleport to Helshper immediately, first isolating the group’s environs to shield them from any onlookers.

Cayna neglected to properly check her Party Formation screen and teleported under the assumption that Opus was already in. This meant that everyone, Mai-Mai and all, flew to Helshper.

“…Ah.”

“Ooh.”

“Hey!”

“Oh dear.”

“Whaaaa?!”

The five appeared a short distance away from Helshper’s eastern gate. Only Mai-Mai, who was still reeling from getting teleported, gave a frantic yelp.

“Wait, what? Mai-Mai’s here, too?! No way!” Cayna furiously tapped away at her Stats Window and confirmed that Mai-Mai was indeed in her party. Her eyes widened. “Ohhh, sorry, Mai-Mai. Looks like I accidentally added you to my party.”

“That’s because you lumped together everyone around you,” Opus pointed out. “If you had actually checked, none of this would have happened.”

“Agh, how mortifying. Sorry, Mai-Mai.” Cayna hung her head in remorse.

“N-no, Mother, you have nothing to apologize for.” Mai-Mai, meanwhile, shook her head and urged her not to worry. “Besides, you can still return me to Felskeilo, right?”

“Sure. Of course. I’ll send you back even if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Please don’t make it the last thing you do. Your survivors won’t be happy.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

Cayna pulled herself together, and they entered Helshper proper. The group had neither a change of clothes nor much luggage, so the gatekeepers were suspicious. However, once they realized Mai-Mai was nobility from a neighboring country, they promptly let the group pass.

On the way to Sakaiya, Mai-Mai marveled at everything around her.

“Whoa, that shop is doing so well now… Ah, this tree—it used to be just a little bigger than me back then… My, the buildings over there have been replaced by a lovely park…”

She kept on comparing the town scenery to her memories, vacillating between joy and sadness. Even Sakaiya’s storefront impressed her; it must have been much smaller the last time she visited. Cayna was curious to hear more.

The staff recognized Cayna from her previous visits, so she and her companions were able to meet with Idzik right away.

“Great-grandmother! It’s been some time since we last met. How may I—? Grandmother?!”

Idzik froze in shock at the sight of Mai-Mai. An instant later, he turned on his heel and dashed into the store.

“…Mai-Mai.”

“What is it, Mother?”

“Idzik was pretty shocked just now. You have met him before, right?”

“Yes, when he was about this big.”

Mai-Mai used her thumb and index finger to indicate “this big.” Definitely not human-sized. Even Opus, who had fallen into apathetic silence, pointed out that “meeting” her grandson as a fetus didn’t count.

Cayna was about to speak when she heard loud, rapid footsteps from within the store. Caerick came running out like a madman.

“Maman!”

Like a high jump athlete, he kicked off the ground and spun gracefully through the air. Even his flowing outfit added a lively touch of color. His hands and feet came together elegantly, and he fell into a perfect kowtow.

“It has been too long!!”

“Hi, Caerick,” Mai-Mai replied flatly, smiling and waving at her son. “Long time no see, huh.”

Cayna and the others had ascertained something strangely off about Caerick’s behavior; they all face-palmed at Mai-Mai’s reaction. The dragonflies and baby chicks flying over their heads, meanwhile, were mere effects.

“I thought maybe you guys didn’t get along or he was making some kind of grand apology!”

“I-I-I-I-I’m sorry, Mother!”

“Forgive me, Grandmother.”

Cayna, oddly disappointed by this turn of events, was bristling with anger. This time, Mai-Mai was the one hanging her head in remorse. A large bead of sweat fell down Caerick’s head; he dabbed at it with a handkerchief and bowed profusely.

All too late, Cayna remembered both Mai-Mai and Caerick had Telepathy and therefore could communicate remotely. The two had no doubt schemed to prank Cayna the moment she arrived in Helshper.

She and her group were shown into a wide room measuring about thirty-three square meters. For whatever reason, there was only a single table in the center.

“They’re related to her, all right,” Opus grumbled with a hand to his forehead.

Siren brought a tea set out of nowhere (that is, her Item Box) and served everyone. Kuu whizzed around the room, impressed by how much space there was.

Once Mai-Mai and Caerick more or less apologized, Cayna introduced Opus. Mai-Mai also noted that he was her uncle.

“O-oh my—great-uncle, you say? What an honor. My name is Caerick Sakai. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Just call me Opus. I’m a mere footnote as far as Cayna is concerned, so you can drop the formalities.”

“‘A footnote,’ eh?” Cayna cocked her head curiously at Opus’s turn of phrase.

“A football!”

Kuu, meanwhile, swapped the word for a different, albeit less accurate one. It remained to be seen whether football actually existed in this world.

Caerick tried insisting he could never stoop to a first-name basis, but a single sharp glare from Opus forced him to reconsider.

“U-understood, Sir Opus.”

“That will do, yes.”

Their conversation made Siren quietly wonder who was in charge of this establishment.

“Well, then, what has brought you, your companions, and even my mother here today, Grandmother?”

Being called Grandmother even though she looked like the youngest by far of all the beautiful elves (and high elves) in the room made Cayna uncomfortable, even a little weirded out. She nonetheless managed to suppress her discomfort and urge Opus forward.

“So Opus is looking for something from Sakaiya.”

“Oh! I will gladly provide anything within my power. On my good name, I shall prepare Uncle Opus’s—no, Sir Opus’s—requested goods immediately!”

“Wait, I’m not asking you for the Jeweled Branch of Horai or anything. I just need your emblem to pass the tourney preliminary.”

“Emblem? Oh, you mean this?”

Caerick immediately withdrew a five-pointed insignia from his pocket and placed it on the table.

“Well, that sure was easy,” Cayna said.

“It’s simple enough for you to meet with me, Grandmother, but the average adventurer must wait around a month first. Granted, I’ve had more free time lately, so the wait has been closer to twenty days instead.”

“That long, huh?”

“Will you make it in time, even after the tournament staff sent you here so last minute?” Caerick asked Opus. “From what I recall, registration closes tomorrow.”

“We’ll be fine. I’ll be taking this, then.”

“Please do. I wish you the best of luck in the tournament.”

“Thanks. Sorry for the trouble.”

Opus snatched the emblem and teleported away with Siren.

Caerick’s jaw hung open as he watched the last of Opus’s wild magic dissipate. This was his silliest reaction so far that day: his eyes wide and mouth agape, his body audibly turning toward Cayna like a rusty hinge. Mai-Mai, her expression indiscernable, was the one to respond.

“You said Uncle Opus is a Skill Master like you, right, Mother?”

Cayna nodded, and Caerick collapsed on the spot.

“Out cold,” said Kuu, who swooped down and poked his cheek.

“Oh, he’ll be back to his usual self in no time,” Mai-Mai assured them. Cayna knew where she was coming from but thought it was a bit harsh.

Sure enough, Caerick awoke roughly five minutes later and stood up.

“Gasp! Great Uncle Opus…! Grandmother, what’s a Skill Master?”

“Remember what we were talking about before with the Crescent Moon Castle? Opus is its Skill Master. That place is packed with nasty tricks, though, so you’ll die if you try to step inside.”

Cayna never expected him to toss out a question right after waking up, but she had an answer ready and didn’t hesitate to share her knowledge. Since they were blood-related (?), there was no reason to hide the existence of Skill Masters or Guardian Towers. Cayna trusted Caerick not to tell anyone.

On the other hand, she realized people were less likely to visit if they were aware of the castle’s dangers. Even Cayna wouldn’t go near it with a ten-foot pole; she remembered when several fellow Limit Breakers had once attempted to take the castle, treating it like a test of courage through a haunted house. The result: They all failed miserably, their subsequent respawning treated as a cautionary tale. With the horrors of this castle thus crystal clear, the group of players unanimously agreed that its owner had no intention of passing their skills to anyone.

Once Cayna mentioned this anecdote and the traps inside the castle to them, Mai-Mai and Caerick went pale and trembled in fear. An understandable reaction.

“Come to think of it, Great Uncle Opus—no, Sir Opus—will participate in the tournament, correct?”

“Yeah, looks like it.”

“Won’t you participate as well, Grandmother?”

“If I did, Felskeilo would be wiped off the map!”

“Caerick, don’t suggest such horrors!” Mai-Mai yelped in protest.

No one was looking for a fight between Leadale’s strongest players, and Cayna had no intention of providing one.

Lots of players were obsessed with strength, and she didn’t understand why so many of them kept on pushing themselves to the top considering the hassle involved. That was the extent of Cayna’s attachment to srength. Being strong was all well and good, but she had zero interest in battling to decide who was the mightiest.

“Blacksmiths will often provide participants with swords as a way to promote business should that person win,” Caerick explained.

“Any weapon made around here would fall apart in Opus’s hands.”

Opus’s unique Skill Master weaponry could handle his greatest attacks better than the rarest weapons. However, a single strike did blast away every friend and foe in sight during one particular war. He received a slew of complaints from all involved after that and couldn’t use it in wartime ever again. It was a weapon of destruction.

Cayna enjoyed her friendly mother-daughter chat with Mai-Mai for a while longer but reluctantly decided it was time to get down to business after her second cup of tea. Siren had left behind the tea set, so Cayna gathered up everything to return to her later. Mai-Mai had been serving tea once Siren left.

“Anyway, I better go get the Guardian Tower ready.”

“Then I’ll wait here, Mother. Please come pick me up once you’re finished.”

“Nah, I can’t just leave you, Mai-Mai. Let’s go together. That way I won’t have to come back here.”

“Whaaaat?!”

“Huh?!”

Mai-Mai was wide-eyed with shock; Caerick, meanwhile, seemed jealous.

“What? You wanna come, too, Caerick?”

“I-if it’s not too much trouble…I would appreciate it for my own reference.”

He wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip by, and judging by how desperate he looked, he’d most likely grovel if Cayna said no.

“Gee, I dunno…”

Mai-Mai clung to Cayna, who gave a wishy-washy response.

“Mother, I understand what a hassle this would be for you, but won’t you please bring Caerick along as well? I’ll take full responsibility for him.”

“What?! There’s no need for you to burden yourself, Maman. I’m a grown man—I’ll take responsibility for myself!”

Cayna intervened just as the pair was about to launch into a bickering match.

“Okay, okay. No need to argue. No one is taking responsibility for anyone.”

“A-are you certain, Grandmother? Isn’t the tower filled with invaluable wisdom…?”

“I don’t know where you heard that, but the place is basically empty. It wouldn’t even make a decent tourist attraction.”

Nevertheless, Mai-Mai and Caerick drew close to her with shining, pleading eyes.

“There’s really nothing there, but okay,” she murmured as she opened her Party Formation screen and added Caerick. Then she informed Idzik that Caerick would be away for a bit so no one would think he’d been abducted and start panicking. Idzik, eager to see them off, watched closely from the hallway.

Cayna, Mai-Mai, and Caerick were in the courtyard complete with a sprawling, Japanese-style garden and a pond. She switched out her rings and hyped herself up by saying, “Okay, let’s get going!” The incantation itself wasn’t a big deal; she was just determined to not look awkward in front of her descendants.

Cayna placed Kuu on her shoulder and confirmed that Mai-Mai and Caerick were in her party. Then, she took a deep breath, put on the ring, and raised one hand.

“One who protects in times of trouble! I beseech you to rescue this depraved world from chaos!”

A flash of light, followed by a dome-shaped grid that swelled around them. Phantom branches and foliage filled the grid, and a moment later, everything—Cayna, Mai-Mai, Kuu, Caerick, and the grid itself—vanished.

Idzik continued staring enviously at the spot where they had disappeared.

There was a lag between the visual effect and teleportation to the Guardian Tower, so the process was instantaneous for those being teleported. The trio landed in a semi-dome world divided by green gridlines: the Ninth Skill Master’s Guardian Tower located in the Battle Arena.

““W-we’re inside a Guardian Tower?!”” Mai-Mai and Caerick exclaimed in astonishment when their feet touched the floor’s strange texture. The sky projected on the ceiling had them baffled, goggling at the plushie sun.

“See? I told you. It’s a whole load of nothing.”

“To the contrary, Mother! The spectacle alone has left me breathless!”

“Huh?”

“I must agree! We stand here in the heart of an ancient, sacred mystery… I shall not speak a word to anyone, but it fills me with an overwhelming sense of superiority!”

“I—I see…”

Mai-Mai clutched at her chest, spellbound, and Caerick blubbered as he rubbed one cheek against the floor. Not a good look for the Academy’s headmaster and the owner of Sakaiya.

“What’s this? Do we have guests, Master?”

At the center of the dome, the smoky Guardian rose from the maple tree in the flowerpot and took human form. It placed a hand to its chest with a reverent bow. Spooked, Mai-Mai and Caerick shuffled behind Cayna to hide in her shadow, but both were several sizes larger than she was; they could hardly pass as stuffed animals.

“Wh-what is that?”

“A monster? Still, this aura…”

“What’s with you guys?”

Mai-Mai and Caerick narrowed their eyes and scrutinized the Guardian warily.

“They appear quite shocked. What shall we do, Master?”

“Nothing, really.”

Neither elf could do anything to the smoky Guardian. Cayna ignored their odd behavior and focused on the task at hand.

First, she took out one half of the Pair of Eyes from her Item Box and handed it to the Guardian.

“What shall I do with this item?”

“There’s gonna be a a tournament in the Battle Arena soon. You’ll be able to see it from here, right?”

“Indeed I will.”

The moment the Guardian said this, approximately ten window panels opened up in midair displaying every section of the Battle Arena.

“Hwa?!”

Mai-Mai and Caerick were taken aback. From the panels, they saw people cleaning the spectator seats, decorating corridors, placing information signs, demarcating areas with rope and planks, and rushing around with boxes. Everyone was hard at work as the last few days to the tourney counted down.

“I want to broadcast the tournament to the remote village with the Pair of Eyes. Can you do that for me?”

“Very well. I shall deliver a thrilling spectacle.”

“Great, I appreciate it.”

The smoky Guardian immediately used the Pair of Eyes like a drone to display a bird’s-eye view of the Battle Arena. The receiving Pair of Eyes would begin flashing once the projector in the village added a new channel, so either Roxine or Roxilius would switch over to it. Probably.

With this, Cayna’s mission to give the village a TV of sorts was essentially finished. She let out a sigh of relief.

“Mother!”

“Uwagh, you surprised me! What’s up, Mai-Mai?”

Cayna turned around to find her daughter standing there rigidly with a stern look. Caerick appeared shocked by his mother’s menacing expression as well and fell mute.

“Is Felskeilo’s Battle Arena a Guardian Tower by any chance?”

“That’s right.”

“What is the meaning of this?! How dare we set foot on such consecrated ground and use it for our own ends! I would not be the least bit surprised if we were struck down at any moment!”

Cayna didn’t really understand why Mai-Mai seemed to resent that the Battle Arena was also a Guardian Tower. Mai-Mai then started going on about God’s love—likely Skargo’s influence. Cayna’s knowledge of this world’s religious beliefs was quite shallow; after all, she could use Holy Magic without any religious know-how. But given how pious the cathedral’s visitors were, she could see how even mages like Mai-Mai would pay their respects.

“At this rate, we’ll need to advise the king and arrange for an altar to be built in the Battle Arena—”

“Okay, stop!” Cayna clapped a hand over Mai-Mai’s mouth before she had a chance to babble on. “If you need an altar, there’s already one in the river.”

“Mrmph… Y-you mean the one for the river god I heard about before? Yes, that’s true…,” she began before freezing. “Wait—the capital has two Guardian Towers?!”

“Yeah. I dunno what you’re so freaked out about, Mai-Mai.”

“Treasure is more likely to be looted as people freely come and go. How can I not panic?!”

“Do you see any treasure around here?”

“…No, I don’t.”

If anything, the Guardian’s flowerpot was the only “treasure” around. And even Cayna, a Skill Master, couldn’t move it.

“To enter here, one must be a Skill Master and possess the necessary ring, or, like you, be an acquaintance of my master. We Guardians will not recognize anyone else.”

Once the smoky Guardian explained this in no uncertain terms, Mai-Mai’s head drooped weakly.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Look, Mai-Mai, I’m not mad. What’s with you all of a sudden?”

“It’s just that I was mistaken.”

“Mistaken? About what?”

“I believed that ancient secrets should remain secret.”

Cayna grimaced at this. She didn’t mind being offered a concerned word of advice, but the sacred Guardian Towers didn’t seem so sacred when she remembered why the Skill Masters wanted them in the first place.

Guardian Towers were originally meant as an escape from greedy players and had nothing to do with either holiness or treasure. They were facilities designed to minimize external annoyances.

Cayna felt bad for Mai-Mai, since she was so enamored with the legends, but that was the honest truth.

“Towers aren’t as ‘sacred’ as you might think. Not to be a buzzkill or anything, but maybe lower your expectations a bit.” She stroked her daughter’s head as consolation.

“…Okay.”

Caerick, meanwhile, was more interested in the Guardian than in their dispute, inspecting it from every angle.