Strange Grief Wants to Retire ~ The Weakest Hunter Dreams of a Hero ~ - Volume 1 - Chapter 3.2

After losing an intense battle, the wolf knight disappeared without a trace.

“Um, maybe we should just back out?” Rhuda suggested to Tino, who was glaring at the spot where the wolf knight had been.

Greg lowered his trusty broadsword and said, “Yeah, agreed. I knew this was gonna be bad news, but I didn’t see that comin’ at all. We oughta get out. Besides, it’s not like the people we’re here to rescue are alive, anyway. No point in goin’.”

The wolf knight was strong. Its armor had repelled nearly all of their attacks, while its slashes, backed up by powerful muscles, could have killed them in one hit.

Wolf-type phantoms were typically smart and powerful, but this one had been armored to boot. It shouldn’t have shown up around a level 3 treasure vault. Even Greg, a veteran with a recognized level of 4, would’ve had trouble fighting it one-on-one.

The only reason they had been able to defeat it without sustaining any wounds was because their opponent had been a loner, giving them an advantage in numbers. Tino had also drawn attention to it before it could hurt anyone. If a single one of them had been injured and slowed down as a result, they still would have won, but the fight would have dragged on for some time.

But as they looked to their leader, she answered without hesitation, “My decision is final. Besides, we haven’t even entered the vault yet.”

Greg balked. “Seriously, little lady? Why are you so stubborn? Our lives are on the line here! That thing obviously came from the White Wolf’s Den. It might be rare for a phantom to leave its vault, but I bet you that place is crawlin’ with the damn things.”

Rhuda looked in the direction of the treasure vault and quivered. “When I came here last time, they were just normal wolves.”

The wolves that normally appeared here were called Red Moons, owing to the fact that they resembled the Silver Moons. Until now, however, there had never been wolf-men with swords or armor.

When Rhuda had visited to test the waters several weeks ago, the phantoms had been normal. In terms of strength, she had more or less been able to defeat one on her own. Back then, however, she had been surrounded by several and had quickly realized that she couldn’t handle it, so she’d retreated.

The wolf knight, on the other hand, had been leagues stronger than them. Rhuda’s dagger had hardly managed to pierce its hide. To deal any sort of damage, she’d needed to aim for its uncovered head or any weak spots in its armor.

At her current skill level, she wouldn’t be able to fend off more wolf knights and their fleet-footed movements while continuing to evade their attacks. Perhaps she could if she were to practice, but she didn’t want to put her life in danger just to get better.

“They’ll provide excellent training.”

“Are you for real?” Rhuda blurted.

Her and Greg’s pleading had fallen on deaf ears. Tino shrugged her shoulders, as if to say, That’s just how it is.

Rhuda sensed a major rift between her and Tino; the tiny girl was strangely composed despite all the unknowns being thrown their way. Her attitude seemed to say that she had been through countless hellish trials far worse than this one. This was the essence of First Steps.

“Either way, the Great Greg is mistaken.”

“Just Greg is fine.”

“Greg is mistaken.”

Tino cast a glance at Gilbert, who looked dubiously down at his sword. His Relic was an extremely powerful weapon. Personality aside, he would probably be their best offense. Her master wouldn’t have just randomly tossed an uppity brat like him into the party for no reason.

During the battle, she had also observed Greg’s attacks and Rhuda’s maneuvers. The party members she’d been given were hardly lacking in skills. At the very least, they weren’t poor enough to make her choose retreat. Tino had what she needed. Her master was right, as always.

With a nod, she turned toward the treasure vault where the howls continued. “If Master sent us here, then our targets still live.”

Greg was astonished at Tino’s certainty. He couldn’t understand. Rather, nobody would normally understand it.

Treasure vaults were a danger zone. If someone went missing inside one, they were almost definitely dead, especially in an unpopular vault like this where there were no passing hunters to help out. The only way to see if they were still alive was to go and check in person.

Could anyone have predicted that they were still alive from all the way over in the capital? Anyone who was asked would say no. They would say you can only calculate the chance of their survival based on how long they’d been missing.

But one man had managed to do that. He defied all common sense; he made the impossible possible. That was why Krai Andrey was a level 8 hunter.

“Our ingenious master giving us an order means that there’s clear meaning behind it. Greg, do you dare make light of one of the only three level eight hunters in the capital?”

Her cold glare sent a cold bead of sweat down Greg’s cheek.

Trying to brush off the unpleasant mood, Rhuda forced herself to sound cheerful. “Y-Yeah, I agree. If our targets are still alive, we’ve gotta keep going. Right, Gilbert?”

Gilbert replied, ashen, without addressing the actual question. “The Purgatorial Sword’s out of mana, and I can’t charge it myself. Just had the thing charged, too.”

“Say what?”

Any hunters who used Relics knew to charge their mana in advance. The Purgatorial Sword was powerful, but it required a large amount of mana and consumed it quickly. It was too much for Gilbert to handle alone, and he knew it. Thus, he regularly paid Magi who specialized in charging Relics to do the work for him.

The last time he’d had it charged was a few days ago, immediately before First Steps’ recruitment meet. He hadn’t used the weapon once since then, so he’d thought he had mana to spare. But now, there was clearly no mana in it. If there had been a Magus in the party, they would have been able to charge it. Alas, there was not.

Tino was the first to discern the truth from Gilbert’s perplexed complaint. “Oh, Master, do you hate me so?”

They hadn’t even entered the treasure vault yet.

The White Wolf’s Den was a cavern-type vault. Silver Moons had been both intelligent and social, so they had gathered together in droves to dig an enormous den and live as one big pack.

In their final days, the pack contained over a thousand wolves. The den, large enough to house a small village, had always buzzed like a busy beehive. Thus, even after the Silver Moons had been annihilated and the den had become a treasure vault, it had retained its structure.

Tino sighed as she looked at the huge entrance from her hiding place in the brush.

Before the Silver Moons had been hunted to the brink of extinction, several of the wolves had patrolled the entrance at all times, keeping guard. In their place were now the crimson wolf knights, their bodies covered in armor.

Their beastly nature was clear even from over fifty yards away. The wolves’ fiery eyes were like bright lights in the darkness. Their unsheathed swords reflected the moonlight, giving off a dull gleam.

“Whoa. It’s not just swords—they’ve even got bows and guns,” Gilbert said in a hushed voice.

Greg squinted at the phantoms. “Damn. Looks like they didn’t just have a single extra-strong one, then. Were they fed too much mana material? What happened here?”

When the mana material flowing through the world collected and became dense enough, it created treasure vaults and phantoms. Yet in situations where it became even denser for one reason or another, the phantoms and treasure vault absorbed more mana material, transforming into more advanced forms. This irregular phenomenon, feared by hunters, was called evolution.

Evolution was not a common event. Mana material normally moved freely along ley lines, revolving around the world. As a result, there existed a sort of limit to the amount of mana material that could accumulate in one spot. For the most part, evolution only happened when there were changes in the ley lines or their environments, or some external cause increasing the density of mana material for a time.

The Zebrudian Empire, a land that reaped great profit from the treasure vaults around it, was sensitive to shifts in the ley lines. Hunters were meant to be told when signs of it had been found, but they had been given no such notice. As the party beheld several phantoms of higher rank than they expected, however, it was not the time for balking at their reality.

Tino calmed her breathing and coolly analyzed the situation. Normally, she would’ve been able to clear the White Wolf’s Den alone, but things had undoubtedly changed. The wolf knights wandering around the entrance to the den were much larger than the Red Moons they had been expecting; they were probably twice as tall. These wolf-men were also bipedal, as opposed to the Red Moons, which walked on all fours.

She knew from their earlier battle that these creatures were stronger and more durable. In that regard, they were fortunate to know what they were up against before they plunged into the den. No doubt this had all been part of her master’s plan.

“The tunnels were made to accommodate the size of normal Silver Moons. With how large these phantoms are, their movements will probably be restricted inside. They won’t be able to jump or leap... I assume, anyway.”

“So you’re saying we’re better off going inside instead of fighting out here? I don’t have any long-ranged attacks, though,” Gilbert muttered.

Five wolf-men stood guard outside of the den. Though the armor they wore was all the same, they wielded different weapons. Three had swords, one had a bow, and one had a long, unfamiliar-looking firearm. Based on their numbers and positions, it would be impossible to slip into the den unnoticed. Taking into account the possibility of a pincer attack, ignoring them to jump into the vault was a poor idea.

“We’re lookin’ for a person in there? Someone saw this and seriously decided to go in?”

“It’s possible that they didn’t notice anything was wrong. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, either; when a treasure vault evolves, the treasure within does as well.”

Vaults, phantoms, and Relics all materialized in the same way. The denser the mana material, the stronger the Relics within. The fact that this place was unpopular was equally important. After all, the first to grab a Relic was the one who would rightfully own it.

“Does anyone here have long-ranged attacks?”

Greg and Rhuda exchanged glances.

In this situation, Tino was looking for any long-distance attacks they could use to damage the wolf knights through their armor. For example, Rhuda could use techniques that involved throwing her dagger, but between the wolves’ armor and their thick pelts, that wouldn’t translate into a meaningful attack.

As Tino looked upon her silent party members, she once again became fully aware of the poor balance in this composition. To any normal party, it was common sense to include at least one member who specialized in long-distance attacks for situations like this.

Gilbert grabbed his Purgatorial Sword in both hands and took a fighting stance.

“A’ight, fine. I’ll just cut my way through ’em. If we can get rid of the bow and the gun, the rest shouldn’t be too tough to handle.”

“Excuse me? Are you an idiot?”

“It might not have any mana left, but the Purgatorial Sword is still stronger than a regular blade. It’s cool; I’m used to stuff like this.”

Gilbert’s leather armor, fitted with light metal, was commonly used among hunters who favored mobility. It was not the kind of protection a front-line aggressor would usually wear. He would be better bait than Tino or Rhuda, who had geared and trained to be light as a feather, but he had no shield. A two-handed greatsword was a wholly offensive weapon, and it wasn’t exactly easy to handle.

Neither his evasion nor his defense was well-developed, but his calm tone of voice proved that this boy truly was used to these kinds of situations.

“Come to think of it, you were a one-man carry before, weren’t you?” Greg said almost admiringly.

Gilbert snorted in response. A one-man carry was a particularly standout member of a party who served as their backbone.

Hunters’ individual talents varied wildly. It was only natural that people in the same party would differ in strength. Hunters who were used to fighting alongside weak allies had a tendency to take the lead. That was how they had always prevailed, so it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. However, that could cause discord when one entered a new party.

As Gilbert stood ready to charge in, Tino glared at him. “You’ll do no such thing. I don’t care if you want to die, but as temporary as it may be, I have a duty as party leader to make sure you all live through this.”

“Huh?”

Considering the circumstances and personalities involved, it was strange for the leader to actually care about Gilbert’s safety. It would make sense if they had lived through years of hunts together, but this was just a hodgepodge of random people.

Tino was the most nimble member of the party, so it would be easy for her to escape even if the wolf-men all converged on them. In fact, Gilbert wouldn’t have been surprised if she used him as a sacrifice. That wasn’t altogether rare in temporary parties, as being a hunter meant putting your life on the line.

Guessing the meaning behind Gilbert’s confused gaze, Tino frowned. “Nobody gets left behind. Master is expecting great things from me as party leader, and making it home with everyone intact is the minimum expected of me.”

Tino knew that being a hunter wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. Sometimes, members had to be sacrificed so that the party itself could go on living. But she was certain that this wasn’t what her master would want.

“Don’t lump me in with hunters who would abandon others.”

Her master wouldn’t even think of giving her a request that required her to sacrifice an ally. That wasn’t Krai Andrey’s style as the clan master of First Steps. Even if she was thrown into a temporary party with people she didn’t know—no, because she was under these conditions, Tino Shade’s ability to lead was being tested.

Breathing in the cool night air, she did her best to suppress her rising heartbeat in the face of the coming battle.

Then, after one look at all of her party members, she spoke with confidence befitting a leader. “As Rhuda and I are the most agile, we’ll go out in front and bait them. I’ve undergone training to evade long-ranged weapon fire. When they’re distracted, Greg and Gilbert will ambush the back line from behind. Once you’re close, you won’t have to fear their attacks.”

Oh, please, just let Tino live. Sacrifice your whole party if you have to!

I gritted my teeth as I soared through the moonlit sky. The wind battered me as I sped along. I was flying using the propulsion provided by my overcoat Relic, looking almost like I had been launched from a catapult. And much like a catapult’s payload, once I’d been launched, I couldn’t return. All I could do was move forward, making adjustments to my direction as I went.

I passed instantly over the high walls and gates surrounding the city. Now, the only things visible below me were vast plains and unlit roads.

It was a beautiful sight, but as for me, I just wanted to vomit.

The Night Hiker was an overcoat-type Relic. The fabulous, navy-blue fabric was like the night itself given form, starred with a white gem on the collar. This Relic gave the user the incredibly powerful ability to fly.

Even among the numerous Relics out there, the ability to fly was very rare. Rather than vessels with multiple seats, the most popular and expensive ones were those which allowed only a single person to fly. This was the only Relic in my collection that had this ability, but it didn’t come without its fair share of flaws.

The Human Missile Crisis, a truly sad affair involving the previous owner of this Relic, had shown the world both the usefulness and danger inherent in it. The hunter had slammed his head into the ceiling with such incredible force that he had died on the spot. Before the Relic could be disposed of for killing a high-ranking hunter, I had taken it in. A real-deal defective product. But make no mistake; it let you “fly.”

It didn’t allow for fine adjustments, and it put too much emphasis on propulsion instead of gravity control, so it wasn’t able to hover like other flight Relics could. Heck, it didn’t even have brakes! The thing was nothing but trouble, but allow me to repeat myself—it let you fly. Fast, too. So fast that safety was clearly out of the picture.

The fact that it had appeared as a Relic meant that some item like this had existed in the past. I sure would’ve liked to give the guy who’d thought this up a nice, hour-long tongue-lashing.

I covered the distance to the forest—over an hour of walking for even superhuman hunters—in the blink of an eye. The party’s vision had likely been obstructed by the thick trees, their movement impeded by rocks and detritus, their stamina depleted as they went. But I was flying, so not me!

As I shot through the air like a speeding bullet, I heard the cries of birds and critters in the woods. They didn’t even know that I was the one who wanted to cry here.

In my extremely blurry field of vision, I managed to spot my destination: the White Wolf’s Den. It was a treeless, open spot with a gaping hole in the earth. There weren’t any other cavern-type vaults around here, so this was definitely the one.

I’d made it here fast. So fast that it charmed even me.

Tino ought to still be alive.

The only problem now was the lack of brakes. I gritted my teeth and adjusted my forward momentum down, diving right into the hole.

Phantoms were far from the chaotic, invincible monsters they were made out to be. Just as Relics were objects based on the world’s recollection of items that had once existed, phantoms were living things based on creatures that had once existed. So too had these towering giants, along with the blades they swung, existed at some point in history.

Gilbert blocked the swing from overhead with his greatsword. The incredible force behind the attack caused his arms to shudder and his knees to buckle, but he just barely held out.

The wolf knights—named as such for convenience’s sake because they were wolf-men clad in armor—may have had different weapons, but their fearsome strength, durability, and unbelievable agility for their size were uniform.

The party had only fought a few so far, but their strength was beyond even Gilbert’s, and their speed and agility rivaled Rhuda’s. Meanwhile, their durability far surpassed any member of the party.

One blow from the beasts would be a heavy or perhaps even fatal wound. Tino aside, these hunters usually followed the standard of going to treasure vaults where they could fight with some leeway. Right now, her party was out of their element.

Their opponents were truly powerful, but fortunately, Tino and the others had one thing on their side: teamwork. While Gilbert held back an enemy’s blade, Greg stepped in with his broadsword and swung directly at the weak point in its arm—the opening between its gauntlet and armplate. As soon as the beast let up, Gilbert used all his might to push its sword off to the left.

The large, dull blade dropped next to him, and the wolf knight howled with rage. It glared down at Gilbert and Greg with murder in its eyes, then collapsed on the spot. Tino leapt up near the ceiling, landed just behind the wolf knight, then stabbed it in the nape of its neck.

The dark-red shortsword she currently held in both hands had been dropped by one of the first wolf knights they’d slain upon entering the den. This blade, when swung with all of one’s might, could cut through a wolf’s pelt, flesh, and bone to sink deep within its throat.

It was a fatal wound; the phantom didn’t even cry out before dissipating. Tino landed without a sound.

Gilbert looked down upon the scene for some time before finally sighing in relief. Fatigue was visible on his face.

“Haah, haah. Did we get ’im?”

“What a ridiculous freakin’ request.”

Greg frowned, still feeling the sensation of the pelt in his hands. It was more penetrable than metal armor, but the wolf knights’ fur was still surprisingly tough. If they didn’t put their all into each attack, it would be difficult to get the kill.

The inside of the den, as Tino expected, wasn’t large enough to comfortably accommodate the wolf knights. Width aside, the ceiling was only just high enough for the wolf knights to fit. As a result, there wasn’t much chance of them getting decapitated, which had nearly happened when they’d been ambushed. Nevertheless, the tension from fighting such big enemies in such a dim, tight space wore at their nerves.

Sliding her shortsword out of the wolf knight’s throat, Tino said flatly, “Defeating them is simple with four of us. No matter how strong they are, our enemies have no concept of cooperation.”

That was the knights’ greatest weakness. They may have been strong individually, but they never bothered to join forces. Even when their allies were dying, they did nothing but prioritize the enemy before them. When multiple wolf knights appeared at once, Tino could easily lead all but one of them away while her three party members whaled on the remaining knight. It was dangerous in its own way, of course, but it was an effective strategy when surrounded by powerful enemies.

“I’ve obtained a weapon, too.”

Tino specialized in bare-handed combat, but it just wasn’t enough to take down these wolf knights. She normally walked around with a short dagger so as not to impede her mobility, but it was a sub-weapon at best, as it came with only minimal power and reach. It was a great boon that she’d acquired a weapon which could defeat wolf knights in one well-aimed blow.

“It’d be nice to get another one, though,” Greg commented.

Rhuda sighed, having only gotten the chance to stay on guard and watch for openings in the end.

Leaving aside the tension and fatigue, the treasure vault raid was going well. The Thief duo gave them extra breathing room in the scouting department, so one could conclude that there was zero chance of them being ambushed.

The wolf knights seemed to act solo most of the time, so it wasn’t especially difficult for the party to move through the teeming den while evading them. When they did end up in a skirmish, they could use their impromptu warrior combo.

Gilbert’s big talk at the member recruitment meet was backed by real strength. Greg, meanwhile, was experienced enough that he was able to work alongside him well. They locked down enemies together, and Tino finished them off. Conversely, if Tino drew their attention, Gilbert and Greg would jump in and attack.

Rhuda didn’t have any standout achievements, but that wasn’t because she was weak. If Tino hadn’t been a Thief, then Rhuda’s presence would have been vital; if Rhuda hadn’t been there, then Tino wouldn’t have been able to focus on battle.

Their situation was precarious at the moment. It would all fall apart if anyone was badly injured. But for now, they were surviving.

Every bit of it was surely calculated. Perhaps her master even predicted that the phantom would drop a weapon? After this thought crossed Tino’s mind, she uttered, “Master is always right. Master is God.”

Greg cringed at her words. “Uh, yeah, I guess.”

Treasure hunters all had a level of confidence in their own strength. Clan masters and party leaders collected groups of such people, so they required some amount of charisma. But Tino’s trust in her master might have gone too far.

More than that, as far as Greg could tell, Krai didn’t have an ounce of charisma. Greg’s long history as a hunter gave him confidence in his well-trained eye, and Krai just didn’t have the mysterious draw of other powerful hunters.

When Krai’s identity had been revealed at the recruitment meet, Greg had thought it was some kind of crappy joke. Though he knew now that the man was actually Thousand Tricks, it was still impossible to believe. Despite being told it had all been calculated, he could only imagine it was one big mistake.

Greg would’ve understood if the level 8 status was all because of his connections, but the way Tino spoke showed that she had nothing but pure trust in Krai. Still, he wasn’t going to cause discord in the middle of a hunt, so he’d wait until later before he spoke out of turn. As long as he made it back alive, he would have a chance to figure it out. For now, all they needed to do was live through this abnormal treasure vault.

As Greg slid his broadsword into the sheath on his hip, Tino shuddered. “There are likely to be more up ahead. Master’s usual training isn’t like this.”

“Ah, hell. What are you getting at?!” Gilbert demanded to know, clearly irritated.

Any normal hunter would definitely have chosen to flee by this point. Things might have been different if this were an unknown vault, but as they had thought they knew what phantoms were supposed to appear, it was clear that something unusual was going on. Rhuda, Greg, and Gilbert couldn’t imagine a greater trial than this.

“Regardless, let’s proceed with caution. There were no signs of life, combat, or corpses near the entrance. They should be deeper within.”

Contrary to the fatigue that weighed heavily on him, Gilbert Bush’s senses were perfectly keen. The tingling battlefield air, the stagnant stench, the never-before-seen phantoms that attacked them. Rather than fear, Gilbert felt exaltation.

“I can’t do this anymore. It’s impossible to keep up with you. I’m out of this party.” A man three years Gilbert’s senior had said these words to him the day before he’d left his party.

Gilbert had been in a party with this man ever since he’d come to the capital. Though he had been older and more experienced than Gilbert, the man’s skills had been rather lackluster. The man had tried and tried. He’d thought endlessly about what he could do, even asking for advice on maneuvering in battle. However, the gap between them had only continued to widen. After all, Gilbert hadn’t just been lazing around throughout all this.

At the time, he’d hated those words, said to him over and over by different party members. But now that he was fighting in a treasure vault beyond his abilities, he could understand how they felt. They had been struggling, too. Gilbert acknowledged that he should’ve considered their feelings more.

More than that, though, Gilbert was exhilarated to fight alongside party members of his skill level and above. Before, his former party members had tended to come and go, and he had far surpassed each and every one of them.

The people he was with now were different. They were his equals. Though Greg’s sword swings were weaker than Gilbert’s, the man had the technique and speed to strike enemies’ weak points. Tino’s leaps and backstabs were nothing short of incredible.

Rhuda’s weapon was meager, so she wasn’t able to kill wolf knights like Tino could. But she was able to do just about everything else, from scouting to diversions. Gilbert couldn’t hold a candle to her in that regard.

These wolf knights were too much for a single person to handle, but the party fought them as a combined force. This long-forgotten feeling got Gilbert’s blood boiling, as if he’d just been refueled. Though his sword should have felt heavy from the fatigue, he swung it like it was nothing.

Several hours after they entered the treasure vault, Greg noticed that Gilbert was still hale and hearty. “Whoa, someone’s in good shape.”

“Heh. That’s ’cause I finally get my chance to shine.”

Although he had started off just barely able to parry the wolf knights’ blades, he had gradually begun to overpower them. It wasn’t that he had been holding back at the start. Leaving aside the question of whether it was mental or physical, his growth here was evident.

As the next wolf knight collapsed, Gilbert started panting. He only had one real complaint. “Man, if only the Purgatorial Sword had some mana.” He looked down at the sword in his hands and sighed.

At this point in time, the sword had lost its power as a Relic. He didn’t have the mana required to charge it himself, nor did the other members of his party. If he could wield the power of the Relic, he would be able to defeat more wolf knights with ease. He might not be able to do what Thousand Tricks could do, but he could cut down the wolves with his flaming weapon. The search would go more smoothly as well.

“You’re not ready for the Relic,” Tino replied matter-of-factly. “Rely on Relics too much, and your skills grow dull. That’s why I don’t use them.”

“You seriously don’t have a Relic?” Gilbert was used to such haughty talk from his tiny leader, but he was still somewhat surprised.

Indeed, Tino didn’t seem to be using any Relics. Regardless of what they might be, a recognized level 4 hunter was sure to have found at least one or two Relics in their searches. This was especially true considering she was in a clan; a friend might have even given her one.

Gilbert looked at Tino in confusion, but she just tapped her arm and continued, “Relics are but a crutch. They shouldn’t be used in normal battle, and you shouldn’t fight someone if you need a Relic to defeat them. I imagine part of Master’s plan was for me to teach you that. No doubt, in fact. I mean, he wouldn’t use up your sword’s mana for nothing, would he?”

“Calm down, nosy.”

He was skeptical, but the fact that Tino wasn’t using a Relic here lent credibility to her claims. To be fair, he hadn’t even been able to touch her in the test of strength, during which he hadn’t used his Relic. Gilbert frowned and looked down at the Purgatorial Sword again.

“When I find Relics in treasure vaults, I give them to my dear sister... that is, my mentor, so she can give them to my master. If he decides the Relic is worthy enough, he takes me out for ice cream. In short, Master is God.”

“Sounds more like he’s exploitin’ ya to me.” Greg’s eyebrows twitched as he listened in.

“Perish the thought. Master comes with me despite his dislike for sweets. I repeat, Master is God.”

Gilbert was inclined to agree with Greg, but he wasn’t about to interrupt Tino when she was this serious about it.

After just under an hour of walking, the perimeter suddenly opened up. The path became wider and the ceiling higher. Rhuda wiped sweat off her brow with the back of her hand and gave a careful look around. The path was now wide enough to accommodate multiple wolf knights standing side by side.

Tino’s breathing was calm. Her expression remained unchanged from when they had entered the vault, and her clothes were still pristine.

“We’ll be in the alpha’s lair soon. Before this became a treasure vault, the alpha Silver Moon resided there.”

Greg’s face stiffened. “The boss chamber, huh? How ’bout a quick breather?”

“Boss chamber” was hunter slang. It referred to the deepest depths of a treasure vault, where an extraordinarily powerful phantom was likely to appear. The phantoms in vaults, after all, did not spawn randomly.

Typically, phantoms grew stronger as one progressed deeper into treasure vaults. In the case of vaults that reflected the past, however, the most powerful phantoms appeared in set locations.

In a castle, it would be the throne room. In a tower, it would be the top floor. In a ship, it would be the captain’s quarters. In this case, it would be wherever the alpha of the pack had lived. Of course, there didn’t necessarily have to be a boss, but there was reason to be wary.

Greg’s words prompted Tino to check her party’s current status. Rhuda was a recognized level 3, while the others were level 4. By the time a hunter was level 3, their stamina was well-bolstered by mana material, but they were all still middling hunters.

They couldn’t afford to be careless. Upon infiltrating a treasure vault, the ensuing battles put one’s life at risk. Yet Gilbert and Rhuda still seemed perfectly composed. They were a little tired, but not enough to require a break.

Gilbert understood what Tino was thinking and balled his hands into fists. “I’ve still got plenty of fight in me.”

“Me too. I mean, a few more battles won’t be a big deal,” Rhuda said.

There was no safe place in a treasure vault. They could create a safe haven of sorts if they had a member with barrier magic, but no one like that existed in this group. Staying in one place meant the wolf knights lurking around the den would find them before long. Taking a break in this danger zone would do nothing to soothe the mind.

They needed to survive this deadly situation. Though a hunter should rest whenever necessary, the party wasn’t in poor condition. It was best to check the boss chamber while they still had their momentum.

“We’ll decide after checking the alpha’s lair. Our targets should be nearby. Best we save them and return immediately.”

“Sounds good, boss. Let’s go get ’em.” Greg took a deep breath and looked toward the boss chamber.

The group headed toward the room at the end of the path, careful to not make any noises. Visibility wasn’t great, but a trail of luminous stones placed several yards apart gave them some dim light to go by. They had likely been placed by a hunter who had come here before.

Just over ten yards away from the boss chamber, Tino stopped. She closed her eyes and put her palms against the wall. Focusing on the smells and sounds of the den, she searched for any traces of life in the distance.

She perceived the cool air brushing past her face, her comrades’ stifled breathing, and the sound of her heartbeat. After searching as such for a while, she finally heaved a sigh.

“Something’s here.”

“Eugh. Think it’s the rescue targets?”

“The boss, I’d say. Typically, Master’s requests involve some big game.”

“Seriously?” There was a bizarre look on Greg’s face. Even he didn’t know if he was just incredibly shocked or if that claim was so lacking in credibility that he was lost for how to respond.

Phantoms in the boss chamber could be significantly stronger than the small fry outside. Based on the wolf knights they’d fought along the way, the boss wouldn’t be impossible for them to defeat if they fought tooth and nail. From what they knew as hunters, however, charging in to fight it would be reckless.

Normally, this vault would have housed a monster fractionally larger than the Red Moons, but they were not dealing with normal circumstances. Additionally, they hadn’t found any Relics so far. Typically, a vault with powerful phantoms and no Relics to be found was somewhere you didn’t want to go.

“Maybe we oughta leave?” Greg proposed.

Tino lowered her shapely eyebrows in irritation. “You said that already. We’ve made it this far nearly untouched. We can handle the boss.”

Greg scowled, gritting his teeth. She had a point, but it was hard to agree with her. Compared to the treasure vaults he usually raided, the phantoms here were on another level.

To hunters, safety came first. When choosing a treasure vault to raid, one of the standards for decision-making was whether a single party member could defeat a phantom alone. If he had known what was happening at the White Wolf’s Den in advance, Greg probably wouldn’t have joined this party. After all, with the paltry reward and the low chance of finding a Relic, this really was volunteer work.

He’d joined out of curiosity because this was a request from the huge clan First Steps. If it had been any other clan, he almost definitely would’ve laughed in their faces. Plus, if he’d known that the phantoms were stronger than the ones he normally fought, he would’ve stopped listening altogether.

Greg patted the hilt of the sword on his hip. It wasn’t the fanciest sword out there, but it had been his favorite in the past few years. He took good care of the thing.

“You’re much more cautious than your appearance would suggest, Greg.”

Greg was astounded by her audacity, as were Rhuda and Gilbert.

In the face of all this, Tino quietly continued, “Safe jobs don’t present opportunities for growth. Greg, your years as a hunter have given you ample skill. Caution is enough if all you want is to stay alive, but sometimes, you need to push yourself.”

“But, I mean... y’know.” Greg hesitated to speak, even to this girl who was over a decade younger than him, because he realized that nothing she’d said was wrong.

Casualty rates among treasure hunters were generally quite high, but the highest death rates were among people who had just become hunters. In a sense, the longer one remained a hunter, the lower their chance of dying.

It was partly because they grew stronger, but most all, seasoned hunters developed a sense of danger and caution. They stopped pushing forward with brute force and instead began avoiding battles where there was any chance of defeat. These trends were all too common among hunters who were forced to watch as more and more of their friends and comrades died.

Therefore, for every older, more experienced level 3 hunter, there was a young hunter like Gilbert who shot up to level 4 in the blink of an eye. For all the growth that resulted from mana material absorption, however, a hunter’s nerve wasn’t steeled along with it.

Most hunters were at the middling level of 3 or below. Achievement points were necessary to raise one’s recognized level. It was hard to accumulate these points only by raiding treasure vaults suitable for one’s level. Thus, while level 3 hunters could challenge vaults around or below their level if they just wanted to live comfortably, that also meant stagnating in the long term.

Greg was a level 4. Though he was beyond the average rank of level 3, his level hadn’t risen in a long time. That fact definitely weighed on his mind.

Tino gazed upon Greg, her eyes clear. “Greg, I believe a hunter with a long history like you would only come to First Steps if you wanted to do something about that.”

“Well...”

Tino’s words struck deep. Greg floundered, not knowing what to say. The passion he had had for being a hunter had long since been extinguished. How long had it been since he’d last raided a treasure vault with phantoms this strong? He furrowed his brow, trying to remember, but he could not.

Seeing Greg’s silence, Tino said something unbelievable. “I imagine that’s why Master brought you into this party.”

“What?!”

“This request is the ideal opportunity to break you out of your rut. Otherwise, Master wouldn’t have any reason to pick you, someone he just met at the member recruitment meet. He’s trying to save us all. In short, Master is God.”

Again, she wasn’t wrong. Greg gulped. It was weird as hell, to be sure. Why would he stand out to Thousand Tricks? He had exchanged few words with Krai at the recruitment meet, and they hadn’t exactly been positive ones. He still hadn’t the slightest inkling as to why Rhuda had been brought in, but his own recruitment was equally bizarre. So much so that when Tino had summoned him, he’d thought she had the wrong guy.

All three of the recruits looked flabbergasted.

Tino sighed. “What, you think my master just picked all of you at random? He would never put together such a hodgepodge of people for no reason. It’s all the result of his ingenious plan, the labors of his elaborate cunning. In short, Master is God.”

Greg looked over at Gilbert, unable to believe what he was hearing. Declarations of godliness aside, though, her explanation was rather persuasive. The only problem was that the man he met back there didn’t match up whatsoever with the idyllic master she spoke of.

Everyone knew Thousand Tricks’ name, but nobody knew the true nature of the mysterious level 8 hunter. Greg couldn’t help but shudder.

Rhuda timidly raised her hand. “Umm, so why was I summoned, then?”

Tino thought for a moment, looking the uncomfortable Rhuda up and down. Her eyes stopped at Rhuda’s plump chest, which was much larger than her own. Though they wore similar leather jackets, their silhouettes were entirely different. Tino looked even more intense now than when she was fighting phantoms.

When her master had listed off the people he wanted, he had claimed that Rhuda was a good candidate because she wanted to go to the White Wolf’s Den. Clearly, that had just been a bluff. He wouldn’t have such a flippant motive for assembling a party that would toe the line between life and death. And if he did, then his especially flippant “Maybe just the Great Greg and Li’l Gilbert?” would have to be taken at face value. To Tino, it wasn’t even worth considering.

Still waiting for a response, Rhuda looked puzzled.

Tino remained silent for a time, then concluded, “I don’t know, but I think it’s because your boobs are big. Mine will get bigger, too; unlike you, I’m still growing.”

“Wha?! Huh? Hey, hold on! What was that?!”

“Now, let’s stop wasting time, defeat the boss, and complete the request. I’ll take the vanguard.”

“Wait! Explain, please!”

Tino took her mind off of her confused party member and approached the boss chamber.

Wolf knights were large, strong, sturdy, and fast. They were aggressive, fearsome allies, but they were far inferior to Tino in one regard: agility.

Tino’s mentor, Liz Smart, was a Thief like her. They had fought in real, hand-to-hand combat countless times during her training. Having been thoroughly trounced by someone much faster than her over and over again, Tino’s sharp eyes didn’t miss a single motion the wolf knights made. Compared to the agile Liz, their movements were sluggish. Even if her enemies became progressively quicker, she could easily keep up with them.

Now, the only question was whether she could damage them through their tough pelts. Typically, a Thief’s job wasn’t to defeat phantoms. Tino’s training in particular was meant to bolster her agility.

“I think there’s only one. Let’s deal with it before other phantoms come.”

Everyone assumed their fighting stances. Greg unsheathed his blade, and Gilbert readied the Purgatorial Sword.

Rhuda pulled out her dagger and took a step back. Her role was to watch out for and divert intruders. If any phantoms tried to get in on their fight, she would drag them away from the battle. She wasn’t particularly strong on her own, however, so she had to avoid pincer attacks. It was a vital role.

“We dunno what kind of monster’s gonna be back there. How ’bout I do it?” Gilbert suggested to Tino.

She took a long, deep breath before smirking at him. “That won’t be a problem. My dear sister told me that the first attack is key. I’ll take it.”

“I mean, this is dangerous. It’s not like getting the first blow in is gonna get us anything.”

Tino stretched her arms and legs, loosening up her muscles. Once she was sure she was in good form, she nodded to herself and said, “I... am a hunter.” Then, she dashed toward the boss chamber.

It was a wide room, more than thirty yards in diameter. Apart from the path Tino had taken, there were smaller paths along the perimeter. The ceiling here was much higher than the rest of the cavern—about twice as tall as the ridiculously large wolf knights.

When did we get this deep underground? Tino wondered.

Yet despite the spaciousness of this chamber, the giant figure standing in the very center made it look cramped. It was a wolf knight wielding a crimson axe as large as Tino herself. This one was two sizes taller than the wolf knights they had fought thus far, and it was clad to the neck in obsidian plate armor.

The armored wolf knights along the way had been annoying, but the party had at least been able to spot their weaknesses. By contrast, this one had no visible openings; all of its joints were perfectly protected. Its figure, a beefed-up version of the already-powerful wolf knights, towered over the surroundings.

Most of all, unlike the red wolves they’d encountered on their way here, this one was the color of the moon. It had a glimmering, snow-white pelt. The left half of its fierce face was covered with human bones. The creature’s baleful form emanated enmity toward all mankind.

At that moment, two ears on its head twitched. Noticing the intruders, this wolf, reminiscent of the lost Silver Moons, turned toward Tino with no ounce of fear or fluster. It had the presence of a king. Its bloodlust washed over her as it opened its maw and let out a howl. Almost simultaneously, Tino sprinted over to its side. Compared to the giant knight, she was like a mouse. The knight’s hellish gaze followed the intruder as she scampered around it.

A beastly stench and the sound of scraping metal filled the room. Watching as her enemy moved its weapon, Tino stilled her breath. This fully armored wolf had not been unexpected, but it was the worst possible outcome.

Tino’s specialty was kicks. The metal fitted in the soles of her boots allowed her to outright kick the heads off smaller monsters. However, she wasn’t strong enough to crush this metal armor; in fact, it was likely that she would just hurt herself in the process. Injuring her legs and slowing herself down would spell death. As the beast was so large, it was unlikely she would be able to catch it off guard, either.

Nervousness and elation coiled around her heart.

Just then, the axe came flying at her. Battle-axes were typically difficult weapons to control. Though they came with great power, they moved the user’s center of gravity toward the blade itself. Someone with subpar strength would have trouble keeping their balance after a swing. But this wolf swung it with ease, like it was only a stick.

The blade was probably an entire yard in width. Tino stepped back to evade the blow that came at her with terrifying speed. Right before her eyes, it passed by like a pendulum. Its blade severed the air, sending a powerful gust of wind her way. It was truly awe-inspiring. Even a light scrape from the blade would likely send Tino flying. Blood-red eyes pursued her, their grudge palpable.

Her enemy turned its giant body. One step, merely for the sake of changing directions, was enough to shake the cave. Despite its massive size, the beast’s motions were perfectly fluid. It was strong.

Tino gulped, faced with the brutal blow. She desperately groped for a path to victory. Just running away would be easy; actually taking down the phantom was the hard part. Even Gilbert would have trouble taking that battle-axe head-on. Likewise, the Purgatorial Sword itself would probably not be able to tear through its armor.

She passed under the beast’s arm as it rose in the air, slicing at its armored leg along the way. There was a shrill sound of metal scraping against metal as the impact made her hand go numb. Her weapon left a visible graze on its armor, but the beast didn’t move in the slightest, like it was rooted to the spot.

Worse yet, this wolf was intelligent. Its eyes, wet with tears of resentment, stayed locked on Tino. This one was different from the other wolf knights they fought. Smoke and mirrors wouldn’t work here.

The other party members ran up behind the boss, but stopped the moment they laid eyes on it. Typically, they would use Tino as bait to attack from behind. But Gilbert and the others knew from a glance that this wolf was already quite wary of any ambushes. Having evaluated the situation, Gilbert and Greg readied their swords and swiftly dispersed left and right.

Gilbert was horrified as he watched the battle-axe move up and down. “What is that thing?!”

“Dammit! I’ve never seen somethin’ like this!” Greg searched for a weak point, visibly disturbed.

As planned, Rhuda stood at somewhat of a distance, scanning the foe while keeping an eye out for reinforcements. The silver wolf knight was surrounded by the four of them, but it remained regal and composed.

We’ve got to go for the head, Tino concluded. This boss was many times stronger than the wolf knights, but the one thing they all shared was their absence of a helmet. Thus, its weakness was likely the same.

The remaining problem, then, was its height. Tino wouldn’t be able to reach its head without kicking off the ground hard, and she would be defenseless in that moment. Leaping up to it from behind probably wouldn’t work this time, as she would just get swatted away.

Though the creature’s eyes beheld the entire party, it was primarily focused on Tino. Evidently, its intelligence was on par with that of a human.

“What do we do?”

“Should we retreat?”

Fortunately, Gilbert, Greg, and Rhuda were standing their ground rather than fleeing in terror. Tino had thought them insignificant at first, but during this raid, she had come to know their courage. If they didn’t have the necessary pluck, they would have turned tail long before entering the vault. Any chance of victory lay in that fact.

It was nigh impossible for Tino to defeat this boss alone. Thankfully, she had allies now—party members who had come with her all this way. This was a trial, she knew, as she watched the wolf in all of its seething fighting spirit.

Krai Andrey gave promising members trials that put their lives on the line. A long, long time ago, they had been given a name by a member of Grieving Souls.

The Thousand Trials. These were the First Steps to glory, and it was up to Tino to take them.

“Block one blow. I’ll figure out the rest.”

Gilbert unleashed a roar. “Graaah!”

With that as their signal, the battle began. It would be the most intense spectacle Rhuda Runebeck had ever witnessed. The battle-axe was like a storm as it was swung freely in all directions. Gilbert opened his eyes as wide as they would go, blocking blows from above or from the side with his Purgatorial Sword. Each time their blades met, Gilbert had to clench his fists tightly around the handle.

While the Purgatorial Sword was massive, the bone-masked knight’s battle-axe was even larger. Its wide swings were artless and left it open to attack, but each strike had such abnormal power behind it that Gilbert, who hadn’t been forced to take a step back once so far, was now being pushed back as he repelled the axe over and over.

He couldn’t take these attacks head-on. Reckless as Gilbert could be, he was a hunter who had undertaken many years of training. He had plenty of experience against enemies stronger than himself. Beads of sweat formed on his brow. His breathing was ragged, but he still managed to block each and every one of these life-threatening swings just in time.

“Damn, his armor’s tough. My sword’s not gonna break it!”

As Gilbert continued to block and parry, Greg slashed and thrust at any tiny opening he could find. But despite his acute strikes at the beast’s hands and arms—and even the handle of the battle-axe—he accomplished nothing beyond delaying the boss’s assault by a fraction of a second.

The wolf’s fighting technique wasn’t that great; at least, it was nowhere near as proficient as Tino’s party. However, it was harder, bigger, stronger, and faster. That was all it took for this boss to overpower the four of them.

Though the boss faced Gilbert and Greg head-on, its raging blows kept Tino in check as she watched from its blind spot. This wolf had clearly analyzed each individual’s fighting power. Its priority target was neither the greatsword-wielding Gilbert nor the bulky Greg, but their delicate leader.

For the first time, Rhuda had learned that phantoms’ intelligence could be truly dreadful... but she had also learned of the greatness of the hunters who fought them. Tino evaded the battle-axe with optimal motions. Her glossy black hair, grazed by the blade, scattered through the air. Sweating, she watched it sweep past with keen eyes. There was no trace of fear on her face.

Rhuda watched her in awe. How could she move like that? How, when faced with attacks that could kill her if she lagged behind even a second, could she remain so calm and cool? It wasn’t that Tino had almighty speed. No matter how fast she moved, it was impossible for her to move faster than the swinging axe. It was her courage that was so impressive.

Despite their grave predicament, Rhuda was amazed by Tino’s elegant evasion. It was as though she were merely dancing. Having gone solo until this point, Rhuda had never seen the motions of a superior Thief except at the Association’s training grounds. Their maneuvers and techniques had been excellent, for sure, but they hadn’t moved Rhuda’s heart. And yet, upon entering this party and seeing Tino today, she knew that there was something altogether different about the way Tino danced without falling back.

A Thief’s territory wasn’t in battle. As someone who carried the same role, Rhuda knew that fighting at close range was usually a mistake in itself. But as she watched this girl even younger than herself nimbly flip through the air in the face of grave danger, Rhuda trembled with admiration.

“Damn, what is this thing’s deal?! It won’t even slow down!” Gilbert groaned.

How many blows had he been forced to withstand, each so powerful that it threatened to tear the world asunder? Phantoms were meant to have limited stamina as well, but the creature’s battle-axe never let up its momentum. He wasn’t taking the attacks directly, but each parry put unimaginable strain on his arms. If his sword had been a normal weapon instead of a Relic, it would’ve broken long ago.

The clashing of metal echoed throughout the dim den. Gilbert and Greg continued to hang on desperately as the beast rained blows down upon them. They did their best to resist, but it was clear to Rhuda even from afar that the boss had the advantage. The fact that nobody was hurt yet was a miracle.

But miracles never lasted long.

“Bwuh?!”

There was a dull noise, accompanied by half of a sword flying through the air.

Gilbert and Tino watched it, wide-eyed, but Greg was by leagues the most astonished. The broadsword he held in his right hand was now half the length it was before. Its broken tip fell to the earth and made a hollow clatter. The first ones to notice this were Rhuda, as she watched from the distance, and the gargantuan wolf knight fighting them.

Time slowed to a crawl.

In that instant, that magnified split second, Rhuda saw its jaw warp into an abominable smirk. Its eyes looked down not at Tino or Gilbert, but at the flabbergasted Greg. It hoisted its battle-axe aloft and swung it down toward him.

Before she even realized it, Rhuda found herself throwing her dagger. It spun through the air, flying directly at the boss’s face as if it were being sucked in. Even if the dagger landed a direct hit, it wouldn’t injure the boss at all through its thick pelt.

As the dagger flew at it, the wolf twisted its battle-axe and used the edge to deflect her dagger. For just a moment, there was an opening. Gilbert took that opportunity to right himself and meet the falling axe. If he deflected it, it would hit Greg. Thus, instead of his usual parries, he blocked the attack head-on. The Swordsman used all of his strength against this inhuman power. The contention lasted only a second, however, before Gilbert fell to his knees and deflected it behind him.

During that very second, however, Rhuda had sprinted over to Greg and shoved his large body out of the way. She had been waiting on the outskirts of the fight for something just like this, in case she would need to jump in as support.

The axe fell right behind Rhuda, slamming into the ground where Greg had been. Its blade, guided by intense malice, made a heavy thunk as it carved a deep gash in the earth. Greg and Rhuda fell over in a heap, turning their heads to face the boss. They were in a vulnerable position, but Tino had already stepped in.

Using the enormous axe as a stepping stone, Tino leapt into the air. The boss’s face was colored with shock, for once, instead of pure hatred. It made a split-second decision, dropping the axe and reaching toward Tino.

As she soared over the creature’s head, the claws extending from its gauntlet scraped her leg. Her normally deadpan face warped in pain as fresh blood dripped down from her thigh. Still, she completed her leap and landed perfectly on its back. In her right hand gleamed the crimson shortsword.

As the boss thrashed about, Tino quickly and quietly stabbed it in the neck. The beast writhed in pain. Its bloodshot eyes rolled back, and its hand groped about in a feeble attempt to grab her. In the end, however, the creature fell without reaching her. Tino landed softly on the ground, and the phantom giant dissipated.

“Did we beat it?” Gilbert muttered between breaths. The Purgatorial Sword fell from his hand with a loud clang. His voice sounded younger somehow; it was a stark contrast to his warlike bellows during combat.

Holding her wounded thigh, Tino declared, “Yes. We’ve won.”

She sat down on the spot and quickly examined the injury. A deep tear ran down her pale skin. It looked as though she’d been cut by a fine sword rather than claws. Fortunately, it hadn’t hit any arteries, so her life wasn’t at risk. However, it wasn’t something she could just leave alone. If she hadn’t finished the fight with that one blow, she would’ve been unable to flee.

Tino gritted her teeth through the sharp pain that accompanied the endless trickle of blood. “That was close,” she said with a sigh.

She grabbed a small bottle of pink liquid from the potion holster on her belt, which could fit up to five. This one was a magical medicine that healed wounds. Created by an Alchemist, it was more chemistry than magic and not nearly as potent as a Cleric’s spells, but it could quickly fix up external injuries. One could say it was an essential item in a party with no Cleric.

Tino removed the cap from the bottle, bared her upper thigh, and applied the potion to the wound. Pain flared through her leg, causing her to groan. The wound—which stretched from her groin to her kneecap—sealed in a flash. Though it still ached, that too would diminish with time.

Greg finally stood up, gazing at the broken sword still in his grasp. He was pale, as if his brain had only just caught up with the situation. “Phew. I thought I was dead meat. Why’d my weapon have to break at a time like this?”

“Better than breaking your spine, old man.”

“Ahaha! Fair enough.” He laughed, but his voice lacked its usual vigor. He looked over at Rhuda with a forced smile. “You saved my life.”

“Heh. I’m just glad I made it in time. Tino, are you okay?”

“This is nothing. I can walk, at least. I should be back to normal soon enough.”

The potions Tino carried were of superior quality. While they required some time to work, they could heal just about anything short of a fatal wound. After wiping up the blood, she slowly stood up.

Gilbert breathed a sigh of relief. He had never before encountered such a ferocious enemy. With his previous party, their chance of victory would’ve been low even if his sword had been fully charged. The fact that they had won without any casualties was practically a miracle. If they had lost any party members here, their chance of victory would be even lower. They had been skating on thin ice.

The Swordsman tried to calm his heart, as it was still beating wildly from his dance with death. In a shaky voice, he said, “So, uh... boss didn’t drop anything, huh?”

“That’s pretty unlucky,” Greg muttered, making a face. “They’re supposed to be more likely to drop stuff than normal phantoms.” He picked up the blade of his cherished sword and put it carefully into its sheath.

In its current state, the sword would be difficult to mend. At best, he could melt it down into raw materials. In terms of profit, they were well in the red already.

Rhuda forced a smile and offered some consolation. “Better than losing your life, right? C’mon, you can buy a new sword.”

“Eh, I guess.”

Tino turned to him. “Here, take this. It’s smaller than the one you used before, but it’s better than nothing.”

Greg accepted the crimson shortsword and swung it a couple of times, checking it out. “Thanks.”

They had defeated the boss, but their mission wasn’t complete. After that, they would have to make it home alive, too. Unlike monsters, phantoms materialized spontaneously. The party couldn’t be at ease even when they returned the way they came in.

Greg and Gilbert sat down, exhausted, and downed the water in their canteens.

After thinking back on their battle, Rhuda piped up, “If they had to deal with that thing, those poor hunters might not have made it.”

“Aah, yeah. Their leader was level five, too, wasn’t he? Think they all got done in by that monster?”

“Level five?” Tino frowned.

The boss had been much stronger than Tino had anticipated. Their victory had been narrow with three level 4 hunters in their midst, partially thanks to the surprisingly strong Gilbert-Greg powerhouse duo. Tino wasn’t so sure that she would’ve been able to defeat it if she had ventured in here alone. It wouldn’t have been strange if the level 5 hunter and his party had lost to it.

Levels were, in the end, simply labels bestowed by the Association. A level 5 hunter wasn’t necessarily stronger than a level 4. Things were different when you got to level 7 or 8, where you needed an enormous amount of exploits under your belt, but level 5 was attainable even if you weren’t all that strong.

Tino surveyed the boss chamber once more. The space was wide, with high ceilings and glowing stones lighting the walls. Some dim light reached the floor, but there were no visible pools of blood. She couldn’t see the telltale signs of fallen hunters, either. If hunters had indeed met with disaster here, then there should have been some evidence left behind.

The White Wolf’s Den wasn’t that large of a treasure vault, so it was hard to imagine the group getting lost and not being able to find their way out. In that case, the hunters’ main challenge would’ve undoubtedly been the strength of the phantoms. Even then, it would’ve made sense for them to leave some kind of trace in case of a rescue party. Tino found it strange that she had seen neither hide nor hair of them.

This was a trial, one that Master had deemed fitting for Tino. In that case, it ought to be something comprehensible to even an inexperienced hunter like her.

“Master, I don’t understand!” Tino complained, her voice tinged with loneliness.

Just then, she heard something nearby. When she glanced around at her resting party members, they looked back at her quizzically.

“What’s wrong, boss?” Greg asked her.

“Stand up. Something’s coming.”

“More phantoms?!”

The three of them willed strength into their weary muscles and forced themselves back on their feet.

Immediately after, Tino squatted down to evade something whizzing through the air. It was a single red arrow. The arrowhead stabbed into the wall with a dull thud. She stared at it, her face pale.

Gilbert blinked. “What?”

In the middle path leading out of the boss chamber—the one Tino’s party had entered through—stood a silver wolf knight wearing black plate armor. The very same one they had just barely managed to conquer. Except there wasn’t just one.

Four pairs of eyes, as red as blood, lined up at the entrance and glared at Tino’s party.

Was the boss merely waiting for its allies?! The possibility occurred to Tino far too late. Thinking back, the boss had been almost too cautious, as though it’d been buying time.

The beasts’ footsteps shook the earth.

Greg’s bottom lip quivered, like he was enduring an awful nightmare. “No freakin’ way...”

Although these wolf knights looked the same as the boss, each one carried its own unique weapon: a two-handed greatsword, an enormous club that almost reached the ceiling, a bow so huge it clearly wasn’t meant to be used indoors, and finally an obsidian gun—likely a rapid-fire type—with an ammo belt so long that it dragged across the ground.

They entered the room with perfect composure, perhaps aiming to intimidate their targets. Yet the hatred for humanity in their eyes was as powerful as that of the knight that this party had toppled moments ago.

Terrified, Rhuda asked, “Huh? What’s going on? We just defeated that thing...”

“Was that not the boss?”

They knew that bosses didn’t necessarily operate alone, but this was still completely unexpected.

“Master, I can’t possibly take any more of this.”

Tino was baffled. Her trial may have gone unusually smoothly, but throwing this at her was just unbearable. She absentmindedly traced a finger over her right thigh. Some pain still remained; she wouldn’t be able to move as nimbly as before. If the wound opened up during the fight, she really would have no chance of victory.

The wolf knights moved into formation in front of Tino’s party, absolutely dwarfing them. The wielders of the broadsword and club stood on the front line, while the gunman and bowman were behind them. They looked more like the imperial army’s well-trained battalions than the other, more disorganized wolf knights they had fought until now.

Greg hurried to ready his crimson shortsword, but he doubted it would be very useful against the four giant beasts. “What do we do?” he asked anxiously.

Gilbert lifted his Purgatorial Sword. His expression had long since been drained of its ferocity. “Tch... What can we do?”

The party looked to Tino. She masked her fear as she spoke. Making decisions in tough situations like this was part of the leader’s job. If the leader bent, the party broke. Tino had nobody she could rely on now.

“Our only option is to fight.”

Her leg wound wasn’t deep, but it would be impossible for her to escape. Their enemies had long-range weapons. If any of the party turned their backs, they’d be shot; even Tino wasn’t faster than a bullet. Swiftly defeating those two, who were just as heavily armored as the one with the battle-axe, would be impossible without some sort of miracle. But she couldn’t give up—not on living or fighting. The party’s lives were in Tino’s hands.

She braced herself, yanking her spirits back from the brink of despair. Assailed by the tension of their grave predicament, Tino’s heart pounded hard and fast. It would be impossible to defeat the enemy, so she searched for a path to survival. All that supported Tino now was faith toward her master. He wouldn’t give her an impossible request. Her faith in Krai, akin to worship, was the only thing that kept her sane.

While keeping her attention on the four enemies ahead, she looked at the path to the right. The silver wolf knights were much larger than regular wolf knights. In a narrow pathway with low ceilings, their movements would be greatly limited.

She stilled her breathing and began barking out orders, quelling some of the fear in her allies. “The boss chamber is too wide to fight them in! Run to the path on the right, and we can force them into a bottleneck. The sword and club are too big to be used in there. I’ll take the rear.”

Thus, their desperate struggle began.

A collective roar shook the room like thunder. One was enough to make the cave quake, but when all four howled at once, it had actual physical force. The hunters leaned forward, bracing themselves against the impact that ran through their whole bodies.

The creatures’ movements were both calm and assured. They seemed to understand that their comrade had fallen. The four of them solidified their formation, as if to show that they wouldn’t let a single party member get out alive.

Moving to block the right path was the club-wielding knight. Gilbert was the first to approach. It was clear as day that they couldn’t win. If their escape routes were blocked, then death was inevitable.

He brushed off his desperation as he yelled and swung the Purgatorial Sword. Despite his exhaustion, his swing was not lacking at all; in fact, it was even stronger than before. The large, red blade moved like flickering flames. Gilbert had somehow channeled a little mana into it, setting it faintly alight.

Faced with this flaming blade, the beast swung its giant club. There wasn’t the slightest bit of competition between them; its pure destructive force repelled Gilbert’s quick strike with ease, sending Gilbert flying. As he landed, his body rolled across the ground. Rhuda opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out.

Fortunately, he was still conscious. He scrambled back to his feet, his face contorted in despair. “It’s over. I can’t push that thing back.”

The wolf knight was far too massive. He could neither repel nor block its attacks. Things might have been different if the Purgatorial Sword were fully charged, but as things were, he couldn’t destroy the phantom’s weapon.

As the wolf knight hoisted up its club once more, Greg readied his shortsword and leapt in to attack. The creature brought its weapon back down on the puny human at its feet. An overpowering gust assailed Greg, and he sprang back just before the thorny pillar crashed down on that very spot.

The axe from before had been powerful, but clubs were of a different nature. Even without putting much strength behind it, a single blow was enough to easily bypass leather armor and inflict massive damage on a hunter’s taut muscles. In fact, things would probably have been the same if he were wearing metal armor.

Rhuda pulled out her dagger and tossed it. Now wasn’t the time to just wait and watch. The greatsword-wielding wolf howled and stepped forward. Tino, ready to fight or die, jumped in front of it.

When its blade swung down, she sidestepped to evade. When it swung in an upward arc, she hopped back. The greatsword was faster than the battle-axe, but not so fast that it couldn’t be dodged. And yet, if she got hit once, she would be in for a world of pain. At the very least, any hopes they had of victory would disappear.

They locked eyes. A cold sweat ran down Tino’s brow. Considering she had given her shortsword to Greg, the only offensive weapon she had was her dagger. Still, she wasn’t altogether certain that even a full-power stab would pierce the beasts’ pelts.

Desperately, she racked her brain. Her master had given her this trial. There had to be some way to seize victory. Could she trick the bowman and gunman into accidentally firing at their allies? No; neither of the back-liners showed signs of attacking. Either they knew what she was thinking, or they assumed the two front-liners would be enough to kill the party. But she didn’t have to defeat them; she just had to get out of the chamber.

Tino evaded another wild swing. Her thigh throbbed with pain. The knight who was blocking the path to the right had a wide range. Its metallic club was heavy enough that even the most powerful of phantoms couldn’t handle it with ease.

Perhaps Tino and Rhuda, who both had light builds, could squeeze through. The thought crossed Tino’s mind for a moment, but she quickly rejected it. They didn’t have that much room to act. If the swordsman following Tino was free, then it could kill Greg or Gilbert. They wouldn’t have time to kill the club-wielder from behind, as their offensive capabilities were too low.

Greg and Gilbert were still being restrained by the club-wielding knight. Gilbert tried to attack it over and over, but the beast calmly blocked his blows, not bothering to counterattack. But why? Was it just trying to keep anyone from slipping past it? Or was it waiting for Tino’s stamina to deplete? The knights had such a ridiculous advantage, it was downright chilling.

Tino’s body felt like it was on fire. She continued to dodge attacks, putting in only the minimum effort necessary, but she knew she couldn’t keep this up for long. Time was on the enemy’s side. What to do, what to do?

“Tino, run! We’ll stop them!” Gilbert cried, readying the Purgatorial Sword as he faced the giants. His voice was full of resolve.

With a bitter expression, Greg said, “Tch, so that’s all we can do. Damn, I’ve got some crappy luck.”

At times, extreme decisions were thrust upon hunters. Occasionally, one had to abandon their party and live on.

“Tino and Rhuda—you’ve gotta live, no matter what it takes. Go tell the Association about this.”

Rhuda tried to say, “But—”

Still facing the enemy, Greg cut her off. “Look, we’re goners either way. It’s better if you two live than none of us. Ain’t nothin’ to worry about; happens all the time. It’s just our turn now. Like I said, seriously crappy luck.”

If I’d known this was gonna happen, I would’ve trained more, he thought to himself. He bore no ill will toward Tino.

Though they likely had no idea what was being discussed, the wolf knights’ attacks intensified. The bow and gun were both trained on the party now. If taken head-on, a single attack could end any one of their lives.

Was that really the only way Tino could get through this? Had her master neglected to account for these wolves? Thoughts, worries, and regrets swirled in her mind, making all other sounds distant.

Grieving Souls, the party Tino admired most, hadn’t lost a member since the day of its inception. Would its leader really force Tino to make such a harsh decision? No. She knew that hunters were often required to make such choices, but at the least, now wasn’t one of those times.

Sound returned to the world, and the enemy’s swing slammed against the ground. Angry red eyes bore into her.

“All yours, though I feel bad that it’s so crappy.”

Suddenly, Tino heard her beloved master’s voice deep within her mind. It was from when she had proudly shown him the ring that she’d stolen from Gilbert at the member recruitment meet.

This spontaneous memory sparked a revelation. She immediately understood as she looked down at her hand. The eyes. Even these wolves, covered in their thick pelts and armor, had eyes.

Attacking the eyes was a basic technique for defeating powerful monsters and phantoms. The attack itself might not fell the beast, but blinding it would make it much weaker and create openings for more potent attacks.

The reason they hadn’t attempted it so far was because they couldn’t land a hit on the enemies’ eyes. These knights were more than twice Tino’s height, and she had no way of attacking from afar. Or so she thought.

As it turned out, she did have a way.

On the ring finger of her left hand shone a single ring. It was the Shooting Ring Krai had given her a few days ago. It was one of the most generic Relics out there: a ring with the power to shoot projectiles of magic.

Though she didn’t use Relics herself, they came up often in conversations with her master, so she had some knowledge of them. The Shooting Ring wasn’t exactly popular, though, due to the weakness of its shots. It certainly didn’t have the power to kill these phantoms. Tino reflexively jumped back to dodge a sweeping strike, moving the Shooting Ring to her right index finger. It seemed to be fully charged.

Activating Relics was difficult. To use them well took loads of grueling practice. Even the Shooting Ring wasn’t so simple to use that a newbie could do it right away. But Tino had undertaken some training on an outing per her master’s recommendation while she was acting as his bodyguard. It was like this situation had been tailor-made for her. She would have to pray to him after all this was over.

“Hey, Tino!” Greg shouted.

“We aim for the eyes,” Tino said curtly.

Unlike bows and guns, the Shooting Ring didn’t require much movement. Of course, it wouldn’t be as easily managed as a dagger throw. Even if it didn’t take them down, all she had to do was hit their eyes. Then, they might just be able to get out alive. Of course, the enemies wouldn’t lie down and take her attacks. Moreover, her target wasn’t the sword-wielder; it was the one with the club. Her party’s aid would be essential.

“I’ll blind them. Back me up.”

There was no response, but her command clearly got through to her allies, as Gilbert and Greg dashed to the left and right respectively. Caught off-guard by their sudden shift, the club-wielding wolf was wary. This time, their strategy really was treading on thin ice. If they made one slip-up, they might not get another chance.

Tino turned her attention to the club-wielder outside of her field of vision. With the catlike reflexes she’d cultivated during her hellish training, she evaded the successive fire aimed at her. She regulated her breathing and focused. She could not miss.

Gilbert lifted his blade and swung it with a loud roar. As the wolf brought its club down to meet his attack, Greg went in as well. Rhuda exhaled and threw her dagger. It whizzed through the air, spinning. Like Tino, she was aiming for the eyeballs.

The wolf didn’t bother to deflect the meager thing flying its way, and instead closed its eyes. Rhuda’s dagger bounced off the wolf’s thick eyelids and fell to the ground. She gulped as the wolf seemed to sneer at her.

Just as the wolf’s lids lifted once more, a blue light—the magic bullet shot by Tino—hit it square in the eye. Even this wolf couldn’t react to the delayed, inaudible bullet. The creature groaned and dropped its heavy club, which shook the earth when it fell.

The entire party started to run. Tino deftly dodged the one wolf’s greatsword and ran alongside Rhuda and Greg. But then, Tino noticed a mistake made by her party member.

“Gilbert, no!”

Was it instinctual? Did he believe this was his chance to shine? Or had Tino’s brusque direction not been clear enough? Whatever the case, Gilbert didn’t flee with them. Instead, he forcefully swung his sword at the wolf knight as it rubbed its eye in pain.

The color drained from his face, but he couldn’t stop mid-swing. His blade moved to cut the knight down slantwise, but it was deflected by the beast’s thick forearm. Then, the sound of metal scraping against metal echoed through the chamber as a chunk was carved out of the armor. His sword didn’t reach flesh.

Rage overpowered the shock the beast had suffered. As Greg tried to slip past it, he was struck and blown away by its frantic arm movements. Now there was no opening for them to escape.

The knight stood once more and glared at Tino, the one who had devised this underhanded strategy, with its fiery eyes. Her bullets were apparently even weaker than she thought, as the eye pierced by the bullet looked to be unaffected now.

It was over. The same tactic wouldn’t work again.

Awash with misery, Tino moved with unsteady steps. On sheer reflex, she was able to jump to the side to avoid a downward slash that would’ve cut her in two. Her stamina was at its limit. She could recover if she rested a little, but the wolf knights here were unlikely to give her the time she needed.

“Tch. My bad,” Gilbert muttered.

She couldn’t blame him. Things would’ve gotten much easier if he could’ve killed the beast with that swing. Her orders had been incomplete as well. The result was far from ideal, but hindsight was 20/20.

Gilbert swung furiously at the wolf as it moved to retrieve its club, trying to make up for his mistake. It was as if he was trying to tell them, Use this opportunity to escape.

Greg stood up and lunged forward to attack with his shortsword. His target howled, its enraged voice conveying its desire to seal their fates.

Evidently, the wolves knew what Tino’s party was aiming for, as the bow and gun were now trained on the path where they had been hoping to escape. Even if they made it, it was unlikely that they would last long.

There was nothing Tino could do. She had no plan, and all of her mental and physical energy had been expended. What was the likelihood of escaping intact? And what was the likelihood of defeating all four of these phantoms? There wasn’t much point in thinking about it; both were hopelessly low. Which one should she choose?

Just then, she and Rhuda locked eyes. Rhuda, once bright and cheery, was now so haggard that she looked ready to collapse. The entire party, including her, was covered in wounds. They were up against the most powerful foes they had ever faced in their lives, and escape was futile.

What was she to do now? Tino was confronted with her mentor’s most basic lesson, which had been so thoroughly drilled into her that she didn’t even have to try to recall it. Her heart drummed in her chest.

Tino’s mentor, her dear sister, would only say one thing: “Kill ’em like hell.”

“No, dear sister,” she protested weakly. “I can’t do it.”

Just as she was about to give up, something came hurtling into the room at an unbelievable speed and mowed down two wolf knights.