Strange Grief Wants to Retire ~ The Weakest Hunter Dreams of a Hero ~ - Volume 2 - Chapter 2.1

Chapter Two: A Nagging Nightmare

I had a nightmare.

I dreamed that the capital was burning; I dreamed that it was the end of the world.

The sky seared a deep crimson, and accompanying it was a cacophony of screams. Hunters, knights, merchants, and other residents alike were running for their lives. People flooded the wide streets in desperate attempts to flee the city, only to be trapped by the walls built to protect it. The capital city, Zebrudia, was surrounded by walls with exits that were far too few and narrow for its population. Evacuation stalled as people bottlenecked at these exits.

I watched it all unfold from an empty room somewhere far above the clan master’s office. Through a bird’s-eye view, I could clearly see the state of the capital and the reason the sky burned crimson. The historic imperial capital Zebrudia—which was nearing its three-hundredth anniversary—was flooded with a water that burned bright red.

The viscous liquid submerged the neatly constructed city almost as if it was a tsunami, even though there was no sea close to the capital. Besides, from where I was, I could see the liquid washing over the capital in a noticeable pattern: it was pursuing living creatures. It prioritized the fleeing children and elders, as well as knights who were struggling to keep the masses in order. Without exception, the liquid engulfed everyone it touched in flames and devoured them in a matter of seconds.

There was no sign of life left in the castle that stood in the distance. Half of the city was already a ghost town. A city with all its structure intact but void of all signs of life (not even a single body) was terribly ominous. There might still have been survivors within buildings, but escaping the city when the streets were filled with burning water was hopeless.

The fiery flood showed no indication of receding. In fact, it seemed to creep upwards by the second. The blazing water would soon overflow the city walls and wash over the entire world.

Then, I realized what was devastating the city. I recognized it.

That was no water. That was a creature.

That was a deranged creation based on the weakest species of monsters in this world—the thing I had been warned to handle with care but had (possibly) set loose by accident.

Now, a girl stood next to me, watching the city as I was. Her slightly droopy eyes gave off a kind impression, and her face was framed by a short set of pink hair. She wore an unremarkable gray robe, intended as a smock rather than one of those heavily enchanted robes Magi wore into treasure vaults.

The girl looked up with widened eyes like she just realized I was there. Despite the apocalypse below, her expression was relaxed.

She spoke as if we were just having a friendly chat, but her voice was so distorted that I couldn’t make out what she was saying. Still, her eyes glimmered with blatant excitement.

I tried desperately to stop her, but my voice failed me. Agitation and despair racked my entire being. I managed to grasp her shoulders, but all she did was give me a shy smile and embrace me.

That wasn’t a compliment!

I grasped her by her shoulders and tore her off me. With all my might, I shook her as she watched her slime with great satisfaction—

Then, I woke up.

I bolted upright on my bed in a lightless room and felt myself shiver. My back was drenched with cold sweat, and my heart wouldn’t stop slamming against my chest. Nightmares were regular occurrences for a nervous wreck like me. But this one took the cake in recent memory.

What a crappy dream. It was weirdly realistic too, especially the part where she hugged me.

Breathing deeply and deliberately, I reminded myself that the capital wouldn’t collapse that easily. Zebrudia was a powerful empire, boasting an undefeated knights’ order, a magic unit of several hundred Magi, and a roster of powerful hunters based in the capital, both active and retired. In addition to its military strength, the empire led the world in research and technology too, making it the undisputed superpower in the region. With its web of perilous treasure vaults nearby, the capital city was arguably the best-defended city in the world. No country nearby would be able to deal with a calamity that would’ve demolished the capital of the empire.

Doesn’t that mean we’re all done for?

I tried to vigorously shake the memories of the nightmare out of my head, but the memories were very clear for some reason.

“There’s no way it’s gonna happen. I’ve never had a dream come true before.”

“What’s the matter?” called a sleepy voice from my left.

I thought I was alone.

I turned towards the voice to find Liz sitting there like this was her bed. I couldn’t help but scowl at the sight of someone that resembled Sitri in my nightmare so much. They were sisters after all. And while they had plenty of distinguishing features like hair length, eye shape, height, cup sizes, and skin tone, they looked alike enough that I wouldn’t be able to tell them apart if they put in real effort to match their appearance—speaking from experience.

Liz smiled at me unabashedly and said, “Morning, Krai Baby. Sweet dreams?”

She stretched in her thin, loose-fitting nightgown and clung to my arm while my heart still pounded nervously. Her body temperature was much higher than mine, and so her embrace just made me sweat even more.

I’d identified the source of my nightmare: she definitely wasn’t there when I went to bed.

Liz had always had this pesky habit of sneaking into my bed. I contemplated voicing my gripe, but I decided that mentioning my nightmare wouldn’t be all that productive.

As I remained silent, her legs wrapped around mine, and I noticed a cold sensation as her anklet brushed my leg. It was Apex Roots, Liz’s Relic, in its standby mode. Her boot Relic changed into a metal ring when not in use. Liz had told me that her motto was “never stop fighting,” and so she wore her Relic everywhere—while she showered, while she slept, etc. She only removed her Relic for a few short moments a day.

A sweet fragrance from the tightly pressed Liz tickled my nose. Her embracing arms, breast, and slender legs felt powerfully warm and soft. As she rubbed herself against my skin, a sensual pleasure bubbled in the back of my mind. It was almost like she was a sophisticated girl or something. Shame that her hobby was destroying men she lured to her like this.

While I just sat there trying to control my breathing, Liz purred into my ear, “You wanna hang out today, Krai Baby?”

“What about Tino’s training?”

“Well, I might break her if I push too hard. So it’s a day off for her today.”

“And your training?” I asked.

Liz had already mastered all teachings of her mentor and inherited the title of Stifled Shadow, but she was a hard worker. She usually stayed busy in the capital with Tino’s and her own training.

She goofily smiled. “It’s a day off for me too!”

Was she sure? I guess it wasn’t my place to object.

I didn’t know what she’d planned, but I’d feel safe leaving the building with her as my bodyguard. It’s not like I had any plans anyway. This wouldn’t be the first time she’d dragged me around town either.

I’d been hanging out with her in town more often since I’d stopped going into vaults with the rest of the party. Being a good party leader meant spending time with your party mates outside of work hours also. Well, I could only spend time with them outside of work hours, so I didn’t want to let Liz down when she asked. It was a bonus that there was no chance of her going berserk while we hung out at least.

I decided to put that baseless nightmare out of my mind. That’s all that it was: a nightmare. One caused by Sitri’s needlessly cryptic warning plus Liz practically suffocating me. Really, what could I do about them?

“Sure, I’ll hang out with you,” I answered.

Liz squealed and buried her face into my chest.

“Thank you, Krai Baby!”

Patting the head of my overly affectionate friend, I let out a quiet sigh.

I got dressed and descended to the ground floor of the clan house with Liz, just as a familiar face came in through the front door. Standing there was a bald mountain of a man whom every hunter in the capital could’ve picked out from a crowd—Gark. He was wearing the Association uniform, and it couldn’t have suited him worse.

Immediately, he spotted me.

I had to make a conscious effort to hide my apprehension of what was to come. I knew from experience that when Gark knocked on my door, it meant one of three things: there was some serious trouble brewing somewhere, I’d made some terrible blunder, or it was a bad time for me to turn down his summons. Regardless, none of them spelled particularly good news for me. Since he had Kaina and two other Association officers with him, he definitely wasn’t here just to give me a talking-to.

“Krai Baby’s really busy today,” barked Liz before I could speak. “Can you not waste our time with whatever crap you came packing with? We’re not gonna clean up after some weak-ass hunters who should have dropped dead a long time ago. Take a hike.”

On her face was a blazing look that would’ve sent even most monsters running. She had been perfectly content just then, but now she was ready to bite before Gark had even said a word. It didn’t matter if Gark was the manager of the association to which she belonged, nor if he had been a noble, a knight, a seasoned warrior, or someone she knew well—her attitude would’ve been the same.

Liz, while she’d coordinated her outfit in black as usual, wore a much more casual getup than usual: she wore a skirt in lieu of her tight shorts, let her hair down, and carried no weapon. However, her knee-high silver boot Relic stayed on, and she was irritably tapping the floor with it.

Gark frowned at the little berserker and said, “Liz? Aren’t you supposed to be in Night Palace? I’ve told you to report to me after going through vaults of Level 7 or higher.”

After years of working with us, they knew full well how annoying dealing with a disgruntled Liz could be, and it was exemplified by how all colors drained from the faces of Kaina and the two other officers watching the exchange. Not a good time for butting heads.

Explorers’ Association was an expansive organization. And so, in order to keep hunters in check, many of its officers were former hunters—Gark Welter was no exception. In fact, he was once a Level 7 hunter who tore up vault after vault with his trusty halberd; his moniker—War Demon—was still whispered fearfully among those who knew him from back in the day. While years had passed since his peak days on the front lines, he could still go toe-to-toe with most hunters today.

To be more specific, when we Grievers first came to the capital, Gark, who was already branch manager at the time, mopped the floor with all six of us at once. That was our initiation into treasure hunting in the capital. Luke and Liz were relatively cooperative with Gark in part because of that experience. Meatheads of a feather flocked together. Alas, that was almost five years ago.

“You guys always need Krai Baby to carry you, huh?! We pay that rip-off of a fee every damn time. Figure it out yourselves!” Liz continued snapping at Gark.

A little girl (in street clothes no less) trying to intimidate a giant like Gark might have looked like a kid throwing a tantrum to the untrained eye, but Gark’s expression remained terribly tense. Since Gark had been away from vaults and the influx of mana material they provided for the past five years, his abilities had clearly deteriorated since that “initiation” of ours. He wasn’t even half as strong as he was in his prime if I had to guess. Liz, on the other hand, had grown incomprehensibly stronger since that skirmish, not that she ever had that kind of foresight when starting fights.

Gark hadn’t snapped back at Liz, and only glowered at her like she was a tricky monster to deal with. My teeth would’ve been chattering if I were in his shoes—Gark definitely had guts.

“Wait. If you’re here, is Sitri back?” asked Gark.

“No! You’re taking time away from our date. Get lost!”

One kick from Liz, and Gark went flying across the room. Skidding across the expensive marble floor, he knocked into some potted plants.

I could only chuckle at how ridiculously quick Liz was to fight. She started fights quicker than any other hunter or even bandit I’d encountered.

Gark uncrossed his arms from blocking the kick and slowly rose to his feet. Kudos to him for pretty much shrugging off a kick from one of the few freak hunters who took on Level 8 vaults. In contrast to his composed movements, his face had turned shades of demon—reminiscent of his moniker. What’s more, Gark was now looking for blood; he wouldn’t have lasted as an Association’s branch manager if he was the kind of man to walk away from a hit. Then, from his belt, he drew a dagger that would’ve looked more like a short sword in Liz’s hand.

“You’re gonna regret that, Liz. You finally wore my enormous patience thin.”

As if. It was paper thin to begin with.

Liz curled her lips. Her eyes blazed as her tanned skin turned even redder. I had just gotten the fire down to embers, and now the flame was roaring again.

Why are you guys so violent? Can’t we all get along?

They were going to tear up the clan house again. And it was me who’d be left to field Eva’s nagging after all.

Kaina and the other officers looked like they were trying to find the right time to step in—that ship had already sailed though. We could’ve had a thousand normies like us on our side, and we’d still stand no chance of stopping a pair of freaks from trading blows. Looking around the lobby, I saw that all the clan members who had been there had already evacuated.

I turned away from the freaks and asked the Association officers, “Do you want to go sit upstairs? I’ll make some tea.”

Having been dressed for a stroll, Liz was unarmed, and it wasn’t like she actually wanted to kill Gark anyway. He’d probably survive.

***

The sounds from below just kept coming, audibly shaking my window glass.

Weird. Lots of earthquakes today, I told myself. I’d decided to enjoy a normal conversation with Kaina and the other officers.

Truth be told, I felt like Kaina and I were kindred spirits: she had to deal with the terrifying and violent branch manager. And so, I always felt comfortable talking to her.

“Your receptionist is way cute,” I said jokingly. “How did you find her? I’d love to have a girl like her at our front desk.”

I took a lot of inspiration from the Association when it came to structuring my clan. Eva came to work with me only because I scoured the city for someone like Kaina, and I begged her until she agreed. What First Steps needed next was a good-looking receptionist. The Zebrudia branch of the Association was known for their receptionist who was always energetic and polite even with scary or dirty hunters, or when I showed up for the umptieth time to answer one of Gark’s summons. I had guessed that this girl (whose name I didn’t even know) played an integral part in running the branch smoothly. All men had a common weakness: cute girls. Hunters were no exception.

Kaina chuckled a bit. “You mean Chloe? She’s Gark’s niece.”

“Ah,” I said, “genetics is a myth after all.”

The image of that nice girl on the War Demon’s family tree was unsettling. But on second thought, maybe she was so good at dealing with hunters exactly because she’d practiced that with Gark.

Sigh. So I guess they’ve scored that receptionist through nepotism.

After we’d broken the ice with some small talk, I asked Kaina the reason for their visit. Apparently, much to my dismay, Gark had a terrible misconception that I had some intel on the changes in White Wolf’s Den. But unfortunately for him, I was clueless. I had made no guesses nor did I plan to, because this wasn’t my fault—for once! I’d experienced a small taste of the new vault through some sucky luck. But since I’d finished the quest I was pressured into taking, any further research fell within the responsibility of the Association and the empire.

He wasn’t alone, but Gark tended to overestimate my abilities by a long shot. I’d only turned Level 8 out of dumb luck. If they only thought about it for a second, they would’ve realized that, with no useful knowledge nor skill, there was no chance I would’ve known any more than what the empire’s or the Association’s experts had found out through their research efforts.

Not. My. Problem.

“Sounds tough. So it doesn’t have anything to do with the ley lines?” I lazily noted, but Kaina looked taken aback.

I knew that ley lines were like arteries in the ground and that any abnormality in their activity was unmistakable to any expert, but that was the extent of my knowledge—this stuff was more within the expertise of our Alchemist, Sitri.

Alchemists were considered to be a mix of Magi and scholars: they mastered the laws of the universe and cultivated them to produce desired effects. Alchemists were a rather rare breed for adventurers because they lacked damage output unlike Magi, who could utilize their vast reservoir of internal mana, and because they required rich knowledge and experience as well as rare items to reach their full potential. On the other hand, Alchemists were very reliable in times of crisis like this one.

Sitri stood apart from most of her colleagues because she had much firsthand experience from frequently diving into treasure vaults. And while she had some quirks, Sitri also held a position at the empire’s academic institute. She, a terrific Alchemist who’d earned the moniker “The Prodigy,” was truly the brains of Grieving Souls. Despite that, she was also very reserved and respectful that I would’ve never pegged her as Liz’s sister if I didn’t know them so well.

On a side note, it’s worth noting that generating magical creatures like slimes was one of the signature crafts of an Alchemist. If only she was as good at keeping her creations safe.

But unfortunately for us, she hadn’t returned to the city.

“Is there anything you’ve noticed?” insisted Kaina.

Tough luck though. The fear of facing a treasure vault for the first time in years and my panic brought on by Liz’s surprise arrival had left me with barely a sliver of memory of how the place looked, let alone of any leads. I sat back into my chair and tried to recall the events in the vault, but I had nothing—if there’d been anything unusual, I would’ve remembered.

“Well, nothing really,” I said. “I’ve been worrying about another matter the whole day—”

Crap.

“Another matter?” Kaina’s brown eyes watched me curiously.

I’d been so concerned with where that Sitri Slime could’ve gone that I couldn’t care less about the changes in the vault; even now, my nightmare from last night still kept on replaying in my mind. Not that I’d have a chance at figuring out anything about the abnormal state of the vault if I’d tried, but I would choose to look for that damn slime if I had the time to do that kind of research.

“Can’t you tell us?” asked Kaina earnestly.

I’d sooner die than tell her I’d misplaced a creation of Sitri’s, of all things, especially when Sitri had warned me to handle it carefully.

You know what? I didn’t misplace a Sitri Slime. It’s all some big misunderstanding. I’m psyching myself out over nothing, I’d decided.

I laced my fingers together and stared at them in a way that looked like I was contemplating gravely. A Level 8 hunter carried many secrets with him.

“I can’t. No, not yet. There’re ears everywhere,” I said to put her off the scent. I felt terrible about it.

“You mean...” The officers behind Kaina tensed up.

I couldn’t stand to look at them, so I rose to my feet and turned away.

Look at the bright side, I thought. Maybe letting that slip would work to my benefit: it could be an excuse for me to turn down Gark’s request. Because any irregular activity in treasure vaults affected the treasure-hunting community at large, I was fully willing to have First Steps cooperate in the research efforts. But now I could get out of doing the work myself, which meant that I didn’t have to risk my life nor sanity in the process. The Association wouldn’t waste their time misinterpreting my clueless comments, and my hanging out with Liz instead of spending time on this research would quell Liz for a while—this was a win-win arrangement.

“I’m a bit tied up at the moment,” I added, “but you have the full support of my clan. I know. Ark would be the best fit for the job; I’ll request that he assist in the research as soon as he returns.”

“Thank you...for your cooperation,” said Kaina, keeping her eyes lowered.

Forgive me, Kaina. There’s nothing I can do. The most specialized knowledge I have is a list of the best ice cream shops in the capital.

I almost felt bad being a Level 8, but they were the ones who gave me that rank in the first place. Besides, I was offering Ark as a token of apology for my ineptitude. That brilliant and multitalented guy could solve most problems, I was sure. I was loaning them Ark though, just for the record—I still needed him back.

Seeing that the officers were still despondent, I tried to console them. “You shouldn’t get too worked up over it. If there’re no changes to the ley lines, it won’t take long for things to go back to normal.”

The flow of mana material and all the aspects tied to it (like the evolution of phantoms) were a force of nature. There was very little we mere mortals could do about them.

***

Gark could hardly believe the girl’s movements weren’t some sort of magic. His extreme concentration made every second feel like several; even then, he couldn’t react fast enough, let alone dodge any attack. With all his strength, he could only barely block Liz’s attacks, even though she could cast no spell and had no weapon. Her only means of attack were just thrusts and kicks—they were simply too fast. Most Thieves were quick on their feet, but even Gark, in all his years as a hunter and an Association branch manager, had rarely seen a hunter this quick.

Stifled Shadow was the moniker of a hunter once known as the fastest Thief in the capital. When he’d heard that Liz had inherited the moniker after just a few years of training, Gark had laughed in disbelief. Now, the girl moved at least as fast as the previous Stifled Shadow.

Metal slid across the floor, leaving a trail of smoke from the friction. Liz had just braked from her top speed in an instant.

“Hmm, you’ve gotten soft, Gark,” she said without a trace of her rage from before. “That’s what happens when you loaf behind your desk all day.”

“As if!” grunted Gark, swallowing his complaint. I didn’t get weaker. You got stronger.

His body ached for fresh air. Hiding his heavy breathing, Gark glowered at Liz, who’d had her disrespect on full display.

While not his first weapon of choice, Gark had practiced the dagger to a certain degree. But the blade hadn’t even served to limit Liz’s mobility, let alone left so much as a scratch on her. It was like Liz didn’t even see the dagger in his hand. Gark’s every limb ached from blocking her attacks, where each blow felt bone-shaking despite being dealt by her skinny little arms. He could even be knocked out if a direct strike connected. Gark couldn’t let himself be shown up by a mere hunter, but still, Liz had the upper hand undeniably.

While Gark was standing on guard, Liz looked as if she was maintaining her stance completely effortlessly. At this moment, Liz was stronger than she’d ever been with the mana material she’d absorbed from Night Palace, a Level 8 vault—she now had the most internal mana material she’d ever had. In contrast, Gark had been away from vaults for years. He was much bigger than Liz in stature (while her arms were long by proportion, Gark had a much longer reach), but she was vibrant with the sort of energy only seen in studious hunters who never stopped going into treasure vaults.

Gark was sure, after their exchange in battle, that he wouldn’t stand a chance of landing a hit on her even if he was willing to take a direct hit to go for a counter: Liz could simply move out of range quicker than he could swing his blade. The disparity in strength that had once divided them when the Grievers had first arrived at the capital was now completely reversed. Gark had expected the Grievers to grow dramatically stronger after their explorations in high-level vaults, but experiencing Liz’s growth set his heart ablaze.

Liz tapped her boots on the floor as if to mock the War Demon. “You gotta get some exercise, Gark. Did you gain some weight? Any hunter out there could take you on at this rate,” said Liz, looking at him pitifully like he was a man on his deathbed.

“Enough!” shouted Gark, gritting his teeth as if he was trying to shatter them. Not every hunter on the street is a Griever! he wanted to add. I know I’m rusty, but I’m still on par with a Level 5!

He’d finally reached his boiling point. He’d even contemplated a counterstrike below the belt: demoting Liz to a lower level. Doing so out of spite would be a massively inappropriate move though.

Liz smiled and said, “The door’s behind you. I feel bad that you’ve gotten so weak, so I’ll let you walk out right now. See? This is how you spread kindness, not hate.”

For a moment, Gark couldn’t process what Liz had said; in the next, he was seeing nothing but red. Wrath boiled in the pit of his stomach—a sensation he hadn’t felt in a long time—and he squeezed his dagger’s hilt until it cracked.

Gark was a Warrior-class hunter, a master of all weapons. One of the techniques he had mastered was to channel his explosive anger into strength, an ability that had contributed greatly to him earning his moniker. He hadn’t had the chance to utilize it for a long time, but apparently his muscle memory remained.

“Time for a life lesson, you little turd,” he said, his voice booming as if it came from the pits of hell.

Liz scoffed, “No, thank you. I’m not good with elderly care. You gotta ask Kaina for that.”

By now, several Steps hunters were watching the conflict with interest, and a fearful crowd was growing outside the front door.

While Gark still recognized the giant chasm between their power levels, he wasn’t going to let Liz walk away without getting at least a lick in.

His dagger’s hilt had shattered in his hand, and his only weapon had fallen to the ground. But Gark paid it no mind and moved a step closer to Liz.

Just as he did, a languid voice called. “You’re still going at it?” asked Krai. “Look at this mess. We already settled everything upstairs. So, here, Gark, calm down.”

His timing seemed too perfect.

What’s more, Gark had never noticed Krai leaving the room, but Krai had just descended the stairs with Kaina and let out a sigh.

Liz, who had maintained her attention on Gark throughout her mockery, dropped the combative air about her and leaped onto Krai. “Hey, Krai Baby, Gark here just wouldn’t listen to reason...”

“We have to get contractors in here,” went on Krai.

Meanwhile, Kaina tensely approached Gark, who still stood ready to fight. Seeing the look on his officer’s face, Gark finally relaxed. He took deep breaths as the pain all over his body began to come back. There was no serious injury, but Gark suspected that he had sustained a few fractures.

Gark frowned as he dreaded a prospective talking-to from Kaina—apparently, Kaina had completed their objective while he and Liz were exchanging blows. In any case, he’d resolved to train himself back in shape again so as to never let himself be ridiculed by a bratty hunter again.

***

Grieving Souls had many enemies: it was mostly because Luke and Liz kept starting fights everywhere they went. They were willing to travel days in a direction to challenge a master Swordsman or massacre a group of bandits that had defeated a knights’ order’s battalion. It wasn’t hard to imagine how much of a nuisance they were when they didn’t even bow to any power. Not that we had a good reputation now, but if there hadn’t been a general affection for strength among hunters, we might’ve been kicked out of the capital by now for causing so much trouble.

With our eerie party name, we’d also been attacked from time to time being mistaken for bandits or a ghost party, which were hunters who specialized in taking not-exactly-legal quests. Those misunderstandings were few and far between in the capital now, but my fellow Grievers had told me that they still experienced that when they traveled far-off from the city.

“Time is a cruel mistress, isn’t it? How far Gark has fallen,” said Liz upon reflection as she walked beside me; she wasn’t deriding Gark though. She might have provoked him just to trigger his wrath, but now she sounded almost disappointed that she’d lost a worthy rival.

“I don’t think he’s fallen,” I said. “It’s not fair to compare him to you when you’re still out in the field.”

“Yessir.”

Gark really wasn’t weak at all. I’d seen him here and there breaking up drunken fights among hunters by beating up both sides. And his face was still as scary as it always had been. It’s just that a decline in strength was inevitable whenever a hunter stepped away from vaults—even the brazenly confident Liz would lose some of her strength one day.

That was one reason many hunters moved from their base of operations when they retired. Most of the treasure hunters who doubled as mercenaries or bounty hunters made quite a few enemies over the course of their careers. That wouldn’t be a problem while the retired hunter was still strong enough to fend them off, but what would happen as their strength declined? They couldn’t risk having an old grudge strike after they’d grown weak.

But someone like Liz would never back down from a fight. While the rest of the Grievers had no plans of retiring anytime soon, I had been looking into a few places I’d like to move to once I retire.

Then I recalled, once again, how Gark looked far too enraged to have only received a little teasing from Liz. I thought he knew how impossible Liz could be, but maybe he finally snapped. Gark had a competitive side too—he might be off to a treasure vault at this very moment.

Liz and I continued walking down the streets of the capital, chatting as we went. Despite the apparent turbulence that was striking the Association, the city, by and large, seemed as peaceful as ever. Amid the tranquil atmosphere, Liz’s revealing outfit, contrasted by her robot-like boots, drew much attention to us. Of course, she seemed utterly unbothered by those gazes and seemed perfectly content. If only she was always this chill.

We’d been discussing the Grievers’ latest treasure hunt at Night Palace. There were a few treasure vaults that hunters rarely took on for various reasons: they were in an inconvenient location or terrain, their phantoms were too strong, they dropped only certain types of Relics, and so on. In any case, mana material would eventually become too abundant in these vaults to a point where they would grow extremely dangerous because of it. Night Palace was one such place—a Level 8 castle defended by a plethora of phantoms. Apparently the vault was based on mythology and thus the great variety of phantoms. Yet, the difficulty in prepping for all those challenging monsters and its remote location had left the vault untouched by hunters for a long time, much more so than White Wolf’s Den. And while White Wolf’s Den was left alone because of its unprofitableness, Night Palace was feared for its difficulty.

No hunter was known to have traversed it successfully, and so there was close to no information about the place available. Even the few hunters who were drawn out there by the rumors of abundant Relics abandoned their plans after one look at the vault from afar.

As terrified as I was when the other Grievers mentioned Night Palace as their next objective, I couldn’t bring myself to hold them back as they excitedly told me about it. I was their leader, so the final decision of the party rested with me. There was a chance that they wouldn’t have gone if I’d stopped them, but how could I sabotage their path to heroism? Besides, Liz came back safe and sound, vindicating my choice to let them go.

Liz’s recount of their adventures was more passionate than usual, featuring an impressive array of phantoms. I recognized the famous ones like dragons and griffins, but then there were plenty of names that meant nothing to me. Squonks? Jaculi? What kind of creatures were those anyway?

“Sitri said they could’ve come from the legend of Dark Lord Graps. There’re a lot of intelligent humanoid phantoms too; so it was like a mishmash of legends. I didn’t expect anything too big since we were indoors, but there was this rift in space-time—”

“Really? Were they strong?” I asked, holding back a plethora of other questions I had.

Dark Lord Graps was a tyrant who’d supposedly ruled the continent thousands of years ago. Legend told of him controlling numerous beasts at will and creating many creatures that shouldn’t have existed through sinister rituals. That was way before the empire was established, but his vast influence was still seen in phantoms that resembled his servants, found in treasure vaults throughout the continent. All in all, he wasn’t very liked by hunters.

Liz pondered my question while tapping her lip, then she beamed at me and said, “Hmm...the strongest one we’ve faced so far? It does live up to its level. Those Graps’s beasts are tough to crack—I bet they were way stronger than the real ones in the legends. You can’t do much to them with physical attacks, and they form hordes; to be honest, I was getting kinda sick of them. We could at least manage to get away from them though.”

Then why do you sound so happy about it?

I could never imagine how dangerous a phantom that even Liz—whose strength I already couldn’t comprehend—was sick of was. She could catch bullets, and she still had a tough time dealing with them?

“What do you think of them compared to the boss in White Wolf’s Den?” I asked.

That wolf knight with a human skull stood out even among the newly invigorated vault, greatly setting back a party led by an experienced Level 5 hunter. Even though I hadn’t fought the thing directly since Liz had come to the rescue just in time, just thinking of those eyes glimmering through the skull mask made me want to immediately retire from hunting.

Liz stopped walking and twisted her brow in contemplation for over ten seconds before apologetically saying, “Was there a boss?”

“Oh. Right.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sure there was if you say so, Krai Baby. I’m sorry. I don’t really remember all the trash in there. I just remember how pathetic T was and how some pieces of trash didn’t know their places.”

Compared to Level 8 phantoms, even that boss wasn’t worth a second thought apparently. It didn’t look like there’d ever be another hunt where I’d join the other Grievers in. I wasn’t upset by that fact, nor did I regret my decision to build a clan and step away from the front lines; I felt a twinge of loneliness that the results of our assessment of vaults and phantoms had grown apart so much.

Liz saw the look on my face, and she clasped my hand in her own. “But you know! They’re pieces of trash that come with all sorts of weapons; I could use them for T’s training! I wished they had nonphysical attacks too, but don’t you think they’d be great for T?”

“Uh-huh.” I didn’t really care about that.

“Right? I’ll take her down there next time. When you train with humans, they always hold back. It’s not real training if your life’s not on the line, right?”

Crap. I should’ve disagreed. Now Tino was doomed to a series of life-and-death training. I should make it up to her by taking her out for ice cream sometime.

With Liz leading the way, walking through the city hand in hand made me feel relaxed for the first time in a while—we must’ve looked like an ordinary couple.

Liz was a fierce and curious hunter who loved to fight. But whenever I went out with her, she preferred typical hangout spots: shopping at boutiques, jewelry stores, and stopping at cafés. She didn’t like going to bars, weapon shops, nor even fishing for attackers by walking down abandoned alleys. I suspected that even Liz got tired of the stress that came with training and going into treasure vaults once in a while. Maybe this was her way of recharging.

When Grieving Souls went on a hunt, we split the profit, after subtracting expenses for supplies, evenly among members. But since Liz rarely wanted many things, she was loaded—unlike me who always blew my share on Relics.

Liz wore a leather pouch on her belt that served as her wallet, and it was filled to the brim with coins. Her full pouch contrasted greatly with my wallet. Mine only contained five imperial gold medallions (equivalent to five hundred thousand gild) that Eva packed me with for emergencies and a meager ten thousand gild of my own money.

It was pretty refreshing to see Liz buy expensive clothes and jewelry. Only that I hesitated to answer her question of whether a piece of clothing looked good on her every time she tried one on. All in all, it wasn’t too bad though. I didn’t understand the expensive clothes she picked, but they all looked great on her. I wished I could’ve bought some for her, but I could only do so if there were two fewer zeros on their price tags... I couldn’t very well dip into the clan’s emergency fund, could I?

During our date, I kept one ear open for any sign of the Sitri Slime, but there was no indication of it. People were talking about the northern road being shut down, but considering the timeline, the shifts in the vault and the appearance of phantoms along the road happened before I lost the slime—there was no way that could’ve been my fault.

“What’s the matter, Krai Baby? You look a little down,” said Liz with concern, even though I didn’t think I was showing my fear.

I felt bad I was making everyone worried for me. And so after a few moments, I carefully asked, “Liz, if, hypothetically, all of Zebrudia came crashing down, what would you do?”

Liz could’ve taken the sudden question as a joke, but she quickly answered without asking any questions in return, “Let’s run away together.”

Well, we couldn’t do that.

“Maybe somewhere tropical. I’d love to see the ocean. I never have.”

She sounded very optimistic for a hypothetical end of the empire. Still, watching Liz daydream about a tropical getaway eased my stress a little bit.

I’d do what I can. But if that wasn’t enough, it wouldn’t be so bad to make a run for it like Liz’d just said. Going to see the ocean didn’t sound too bad.

“You can’t run underwater, you know,” I pointed out.

“How would you know?”