Chapter Four: Obsidian Cross and First Steps
The sound of metal violently clashing reverberated through the tight corridors in the underground cave. And followed by it were a wolf’s howl and a quaking thud.
More hunters were currently congregated in the perpetually unpopular White Wolf’s Den than there ever had been. And among them was the party Obsidian Cross, one of the founding parties of First Steps.
There were six members in the Crosses, all averaging over Level 5 despite them being in their midtwenties. Rightfully, they were considered one of the parties in the capital with a better prospect than most.
In particular, their leader, Sven Anger the “Stormstrike,” was among the best Archers in the city. But since magic was the go-to method for hunters when attacking over long ranges, Archers like Sven were a rare breed. While every arrow they fired could be devastating, they were limited by the number of arrows in their quiver and their lack of versatility like Magi had. All in all, they were considered to be at a disadvantage when exploring treasure vaults. And yet, Sven had chosen the bow but still had earned himself a moniker with it. This was also an indication that Obsidian Cross emphasized hunting monsters over delving into vaults, which was a rarity for hunting parties.
Now, Sven was leading the rest of his party, all of whom were armed in full sets of metallic black armor. Among them were two Swordsmen, who utilized their swords and shields to launch a variety of attacks. Alongside them were two Magi, one specializing in defensive magic and another in magic attacks covering large areas. And at the rear of the group walked their newest member, Henrik the Cleric, their healing expert.
Despite the gloominess in the corridor, they showed no trepidation. Dark, damp caves, the electrifying tension of battlefields, and even the expectation of charging into powerful enemy territories were nothing new to Obsidian Cross.
Sven came to a sudden stop and readied his black-as-night longbow, a weapon undecorated, bare, and brutal. Following their leader, his party members stopped their march behind him.
In one fluid motion, Sven drew a long arrow from his quiver and nocked it on his bow. The bowstring creaked as Sven pulled it, and the bow curved.
Just as a head poked around the corner ahead of Sven, he loosed. The arrow tore through the air like a cannonball and blew the crimson wolf knight’s head clean off before burying deep into the cavern wall. The headless phantom twitched slightly before dissipating into thin air; the perfect shot didn’t allow the wolf knight so much as a howl or a whimper.
Sven retrieved the arrow from the wall, and he resumed walking through the corridor.
Obsidian Cross had encountered a considerable number of phantoms in the vault. But regardless of the color of their fur, any wolf knight that had come into their path had had their skull obliterated by Sven’s arrow before they could make a sound.
While Obsidian Cross preferred monster hunting to treasure vault exploring, they were perfectly capable of taking on vaults. This was especially true when the vault in question was White Wolf’s Den where dangerous gimmicks and the risk of being surrounded by swarms of phantoms didn’t exist. And so the party members looked rather relaxed, save for Henrik.
Halfway through the vault, Sven halted and casually said, “Sure, the vault is leveled up, but there’s nothing too out of the ordinary here.”
And Marietta the Magus lazily said, “The first group of hunters couldn’t find anything either.”
Surely, White Wolf’s Den had undergone some changes, but they hadn’t discovered the cause; nothing in the vault so far had been alarming. Obsidian Cross was much more specialized in combat than investigation, and so its members suspected that the Association had expected too much of them. If the situation was so dire that a meticulous investigation was required, they should’ve sent parties with the appropriate skill sets for that.
Hesitantly, Henrik interjected, “Do you think this really required us, Sven?”
“Well...” Sven scratched his cheek. “When someone like that asks you to...”
This quest had been requested of them when the Crosses had stopped by the Association to deliver Krai’s message. They had had no obligation to take it, but they also had had no reason to turn down a favor from the branch manager himself.
Henrik was unsatisfied that his party had been practically sent on an errand just to get roped into a quest.
“There can be much to learn from diving into a treasure vault,” said Sven as if in consolation. “Besides, I said you could’ve stayed behind.”
Henrik straightened his back and said, “I couldn’t forsake our party like that—”
The Swordsman who’d been silently marching behind slapped the rookie on his back, putting the boy into a coughing fit. That drew some laughter from the party.
“B-But—” spoke Henrik between coughs. “It feels like we’re cleaning up the CM’s mess.”
“His mess?” Sven gave him a wild smile. “Well, Henrik. You’ll get it—someday.”
Their exploration carried on without difficulty. After all, even with the recent spike in level, these wolf knights were still two levels below the phantoms Obsidian Cross usually contended with.
Sven’s only cause for wariness would’ve been the boss that had defeated a Level 5 hunter, but it apparently hadn’t respawned yet after being eliminated by the Stifled Shadow.
His party was working smoothly, and they’d even been able to reserve their most powerful splash-damage fighter, Marietta; neither had there been any alarms from the other parties investigating the other parts of the vault.
It’s too easy, thought Sven. The complete lack of danger seemed terribly ominous to him.
The Crosses were carrying on through the corridor, halfway to the boss room, when the satchel on Sven’s belt vibrated. He quickly produced a black rock from within it.
First Steps’s highly organized structure among its members—both its hunters and its many nonhunter employees—was unique among the larger clans in the capital. This was a rarity for an organization of hunters, who, by nature, detested rules. Most other clans were simply congregations of a few parties with minimal guiding structure.
The black rock Sven had produced was a Sounding Stone. These unique Relics were found in pairs; any words spoken into one would be replayed by the other one of the pair. Like any other Relic, they required practice to be used effectively. But while they could be tricky to use, they were incredibly useful communication devices. And so, Sven had left one of their stones at the clan headquarters so they could be contacted immediately in emergencies.
Sounding Stones cost a small fortune, and, worse, the constantly high demand for them meant that none stayed long on store shelves. At the consensus of his party, Sven had purchased a pair, and it was only through making several connections to the right people had he been able to get his hands on one set.
As he stood with the stone to his ear, Sven felt his expression darken by the second.
Only a few words had come through to him.
“Got it,” he replied. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
He stowed the powered-down stone before turning to his party members, who had been silently watching for phantoms.
“We’re going aboveground,” said Sven. “Our situation has changed: Krai’s sending more Steps hunters. Also, watch out for slimes. We gotta relay the message to other parties too. Now blow the whistle for retreat.”
“What...? What?”
Ignoring the befuddled Henrik, one of the Swordsmen blew the whistle, sounding an alarm throughout the cavern.
***
“Give me a break, Crosses...” said a brown-haired hunter glowering at Sven. He belonged to another party tasked with investigating White Wolf’s Den.
Sven recalled the introductions they had exchanged before entering the vault: he was Gein, a Level 5 Swordsman with a nasty mouth and attitude. Still, having been recruited to this quest meant he could at least handle himself in a vault.
A tense atmosphere hung over the hunters just outside White Wolf’s Den despite the fact that the hunters had already taken out the phantoms on watch. These were all the parties within that had escaped the vault as soon as they’d heard the whistle.
Treasure hunters were in constant competition with each other. But while treasure vaults practically never ran out of resources, they only produced so much loot at any given time. As a result, it was common for hunter parties to clash when they ran into each other in vaults.
There was no law enforcement beyond the city limits; some parties even made a living primarily by robbing other treasure hunters. And so, reasonably, parties wanted to conceal their strategies from others to avoid being at a disadvantage in case of conflict.
Customarily, when several parties participated in a single quest, they operated independently. However, in this kind of official governmental investigation quests filled with unknown elements, at least some level of coordination was necessary. Hence, the whistle signal had been agreed upon by the parties in this investigation—each party would handle their business alone until they encountered something they couldn’t.
Nearly twenty hunters now stood by the entrance to the cave, having heard Sven’s whistle. Gein was the only one to be explicitly pointing a finger at Sven, but the others seemed to share his sentiment.
“Let me get this straight,” said Gein. “So even though you haven’t seen any emergency, you’ve blown the whistle based on—what—one stone call?”
“That’s right,” answered Sven without hesitation.
Sven was unaffected by the mix of looks from the fully armed hunters: looks of animosity, curiosity, derision, and approval.
The hunters broke into murmurs at Sven’s confidence. Even Gein frowned at this reaction.
Obsidian Cross was famous for their careful strategies and for their composition where every member had healing abilities. At times, these were mistaken for cowardice by other hunters, but their results didn’t lie. Moreover, the fact that the Crosses had earned such a high level without losing any of their members along the way commanded respect. That being said, the other hunters didn’t approve of the Crosses causing such an unnecessary stir to this joint quest in which parties of all levels and affiliations were involved.
Gein clicked his tongue and loudly spoke to the group, “Anyone saw anything? What about that boss we’ve been told of?”
“Not really.”
“We haven’t. Bumped into a few phantoms, but we took care of them. Not a problem.”
“I heard the Stifled Shadow killed the boss. Doubt we’ll see it for a while.”
Answered each party’s leader briefly.
White Wolf’s Den was a medium-sized treasure vault. While its winding corridors created a complicated layout, it shouldn’t take long for this many veteran hunters to sweep through the whole place even if they moved warily. Considering that the only potential threat—the boss—had already been eliminated, this quest wasn’t quite difficult save for the fact that the sudden changes in the vault remained unexplained. That being said, their quest was to investigate the current state of White Wolf’s Den, not to uncover the root cause of its changes.
Gein snorted and glared at Sven, who met his gaze head-on. “You heard ’em,” said Gein. “You put more stock in the words of some guy who can’t even be bothered to come down here over our judgment. I got that right?” He sounded like he was ready to draw his sword if it weren’t for the other hunters there.
As antagonistic as Gein was, his assertion was hard to argue with. In fact, Sven would’ve been disgruntled too if their roles had been reversed. Next to him, Henrik nervously looked from Sven to Gein and back.
Sven slowly looked around the group of hunters. “That’s about right,” he said with a shrug.
Gein’s eyes bulged, his face turned bright red, and his brows furrowed. He stepped forward as if he was about to clock Sven right in the face when Sven let out a long sigh.
“Pathetic,” spat Sven.
“What did you say?!” barked Gein.
“Just to be clear,” said Sven, “we blew that whistle out of our kindness.”
Sven watched the faces in the crowd drain of color.
The wolves were howling from deep within the cave as if they were trying to intimidate the intruders who’d suddenly vanished. Sven couldn’t help but feel like it was a bad omen.
“Grieving Souls would not have blown that whistle: Krai would’ve told you that you’re fine; Liz and Luke just wouldn’t have cared; Sitri—she would’ve just sent you guys in and watched. But we are healers—it’s not our style to stand by and let people die.”
Hunters took their lives into their own hands. While there was an unwritten code for them to work together in dire situations, Sven didn’t owe that warning to any of them. Still, he blew the whistle despite expecting backlash like this. And that was why Sven had been so calm throughout this interaction.
Leaning his back onto a tree trunk, Sven trod the grass under his heel and said, “Bunch of our clan members will be here soon. Going back into the vault can wait until then. But if you wanna kill yourselves, by all means go right ahead. We’ll wait here.”
Sven waited for Gein to respond, who stood there speechless.
“A good payment’s of no use to a dead man,” said Sven. “This tip’s for free though. You’re welcome.”
Each member of the investigation would receive a set amount of base pay plus bonuses for coming back with particularly valuable information. This practice of employing multiple parties for a single quest promoted healthy competition among hunters.
Gein bit his lip. He knew the reward for a good tip was a significant sum. But while his party had been investigating the vault even before the Crosses had arrived, they hadn’t found anything worthwhile for a bonus. Although it was unlikely that they would make new discoveries even if they went back into the vault now, he also knew that First Steps’s masses would weaken their odds even more.
Like many hunters, Gein was driven by greed—at least more so than normies. He hadn’t sensed great risk in the current situation, and neither had the other hunters, who were sharing confused looks. Apparently everyone was going through the same thought process as Gein was.
This whistle would not have been taken seriously had it not been blown by a famous party.
Finally, another hunter blurted, “These phantoms here are wolves—there’s no way any slime will be popping up! And who cares even if one does? We have a Magus in our party!”
All the hunters except for the Crosses would’ve considered a slime appearing in White Wolf’s Den highly improbable, if not downright impossible—this shouldn’t even have warranted consideration at all.
Letting out another weary sigh, Sven said, “I’ll never forget that day, back when Steps was still in its infancy: our CM, Krai, invited us to go flower-viewing at a spot outside the city.”
The gravity in his voice silenced the entire group—even Gein, who had been furiously grinding his teeth, lent an ear. The other Crosses were listening with bitter expressions; only Henrik, among the party, curiously watched their party leader.
“‘Going as a group, we won’t need bodyguards,’ he said,” retold Sven. “‘But since we’re leaving the city, don’t forget your weapons, just in case.’”
“What are you talking about?” muttered Gein.
“And that spot we went to...became a treasure vault.”
His story drew collective gasps from the crowd.
“Some of you here might remember when this happened,” went on Sven. “The ley lines shifted just a little from a previous earthquake, and it caused the ley lines to cross right at the spot we had gone to view the flowers. Has anyone here ever watched a treasure vault materialize in front of their own eyes? That was something—it was like hell itself cracking open, its content oozing up to the surface. Not that you’d ever come across something like that though.”
No one said a word. They couldn’t.
Hunters were naturally sensitive towards news on treasure vaults. In fact, the appearance of this particular vault had been a big story back when it had happened. Every hunter here seemed to recall hearing about this treasure vault, one so dangerous that most hunters refused to even set foot in despite its proximity to the capital.
In utter disbelief, Gein stammered and said, “You don’t mean...the Garden, do you?”
In the mere three years since its appearance, this treasure vault had earned a whopping rating of Level 7 and the reputation as the worst treasure vault on the outskirts of the capital. The vault had made the news again recently when Ark Rodin had conquered it, but, indeed, there were only a handful of hunters who could so much as dream of taking on this treasure vault.
Since the “Garden incident,” a rumor had quietly emerged within First Steps. It had seemed outlandish at first, but the rumor had grown to seem more and more believable as evidence had continued to stack up in its favor.
“The Thousand Tricks...can see the future,” said Sven, iterating the rumor.
“That’s,” said Gein, flinching as he spoke, “impossible.”
Members of First Steps revered the mysterious yet precise foresight of their clan master, but they also feared the Thousand Trials he issued without warning as part of his predictions.
“He’s got a Relic that allows him to,” added Sven. “It’s just a rumor, and he’ll deny it up and down. I only believe in what I see. And that’s why I paid a fortune for a pair of Sounding Stones: to learn his intel as quickly as possible—huge money’s on the line.”
Furthermore, Sven knew the free-spirited, untamable, and—dare he say it—feral Grievers followed Krai’s orders alone. That alone was enough reason to make Sven wary now—a hunter couldn’t survive if they were reckless.
Sven could hear a pin drop among the hunters. And with a savage smile, he called out to the group, “There. I’ve explained myself. And here’s one last warning: the Thousand Tricks doesn’t bother calling me unless something’s serious. So if you still wanna keep going, that’s your prerogative.”
“Dammit,” snarled Gein as he sat down on the ground. “These clanmates of yours better show up soon. No one better accuse me of slacking off.”
***
It was so peaceful in the clan master’s office. Now that most members had gone off to that vault, the usually lively clan house had gone quiet.
Breaking that silence was Liz, busily buzzing around me restlessly: she hid behind the desk, took sips from the coffee Eva poured, and wrapped her arms around me from behind as she rubbed herself on me.
“Hey, Krai Baby, when are we leaving? What did you want me to do? I’m all ready now!”
That was not very Zen of her.
Tino sat politely at the sofa, trembling in apparent secondhand embarrassment for her mentor’s behavior.
Perhaps Liz had noticed my unamused look, and she gave me an unapologetic smile.
“Sorry, but it’s been so long since we’ve gone out together.”
“You’re not bothering me,” I said.
I hated to burst her bubble, but I wasn’t about to give her an opportunity to wreak havoc.
It wasn’t like Liz gave herself any downtime to let her destructive energy build up or anything, but she’d caused carnage the likes I hadn’t seen even among the roughest and toughest hunters out there. Her bloodbaths were so bad that even hunters at her level avoided her.
The other hunters involved in the quest would not take kindly to her behavior. Not that Liz would care about her reputation, but there was no point letting it plummet any further.
Oblivious to my concerns, Liz quivered and said in a singsong, “Ooh. I couldn’t show you my full power last time. I just can’t wait to have you watch me fight, Krai Baby! Promise you’ll watch me fight?” Her eyes were nearly tearing up.
“Uh-huh,” I answered.
I had watched her fight. And I’d had my fill from last time!
Ever since my friends and I had started training to become hunters, Liz had always come to show off her progress to me whenever she felt she’d improved. I’d showered her with compliments as long as I could, until one day when she’d started going so fast I couldn’t follow her movements with my eyes anymore. That, though, was a secret I’d kept to myself. She hadn’t come to show me any new tricks in a while so I thought she had gotten tired of it, but apparently she had not.
“B-But, Lizzy, I don’t think any phantom there will be worthy of your—I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry for interrupting! Please forgive me! Master!” Tino’s comment had been stifled by Liz’s murderous glare.
What an unstable mentor. I wouldn’t be offended by Tino interrupting me. And she hasn’t even interrupted anything really, I thought as I stroked the back of Liz’s hand as her arm wrapped around me from behind.
Liz let out a quick breath and said, “Don’t be stupid, T. What Krai Baby has in mind for me isn’t trivial. The level of that vault doesn’t even matter at this point. Remember your place, T: how dare you assume Krai Baby’s intentions?”
Crap. She’s raising the bar higher and higher. She should’ve known well by now I’m a pacifist...
Getting worried, I decided to try diverting her enthusiasm. “I like doing dumb things. Wanna go on a date?”
“Yes!” Liz nearly screamed in excitement despite already having gone on a “date” with me twice recently. “That’s not dumb!” she said, her cheeks rosy and her eyes glimmering with expectation.
I almost felt bad for suggesting it.
Tino, whom Liz had been treating with less respect than she would a patch of dirt, was staring at the floor as she shook on the couch.
Liz’s mood directly affected how she treated Tino; hopefully this would help Tino out. It was the least I could do since Liz had brought torment and hellfire down on her.
“U-Um...I thought...” said Tino mousily, “I thought Master has a task for—eek!” She cowered.
“Stop threatening her every time she talks, Liz. Poor Tino.”
“I didn’t threaten her,” said Liz. “T’s flinching all on her own. Besides, T’s a good girl; she would never make me angry, would you, T?”
Tino was now losing her mind with fear. If only Liz could be calm like Sitri!
While I stroked Liz’s arm to soothe her, I considered my options.
Tino had a solid point. Even though I really didn’t feel like it, I did promise to catch up with the hunters at White Wolf’s Den. The timing would be tricky though.
I glanced at the clock. Hmm, still too early. And I have a slime to find.
There were too many jobs on my plate I wasn’t qualified for that I felt like barfing. But of course, I only had myself to blame for all of them. Perhaps I should tell Eva the truth about the Sitri Slime and have her come up with a brilliant solution?
My thoughts whirled in my mind. I leaned back into my chair as if to hide my burning anxiety. There was this inexplicable urge in me to kowtow and apologize.
Things would’ve been a little easier if the other Grievers had been here: my friends were both the best hunters the clan had and my emotional support system.
“What’s wrong, Krai Baby? You looked worried,” said Liz.
“Did I?” I said hesitantly. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“You want to talk to me about it?” she said.
This isn’t good.
Apparently I looked so worried that Liz was concerned for me. I was their leader; the least I could do was to provide stability for my party.
“Just wondering what everyone’s up to,” I said, “especially Sitri. She’s pretty late now, isn’t she?”
The slime was one thing, but I also needed my Relics charged by Lucia. In a sense, it now seemed like a blessing in disguise that Liz had ditched the treasure vault to come home: even having just one Griever around did wonders for my mental health.
“You’re so nice, Krai Baby. But I don’t mind if she doesn’t come back for a while longer,” said Liz mischievously.
She pressed the back of my head between her breasts and slid a hand down my shirt. I could feel her slender finger gliding over my skin.
“We haven’t gotten to spend time like this in so long, and I want you all to myself a little longer...” whispered Liz. “And Siddy always gets in our way, you know?”
I didn’t remember Sitri doing that, and I thought I’d spent more time with Liz than with any other friend of mine.
All I could do for my friends was to be their emotional support. So I didn’t mind usually when Liz came to me, but she’d gone a little too far with the physical contact if you ask me—Tino was also in the room! I could see Tino kept glancing at us curiously.
Just when I was about to gently redirect her energy, Liz’s finger stopped tickling my chest.
“Hmm...? Wait. Why?” she asked herself hesitantly.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
She released my head from her soft peaks and stared at the door.
“Is it...over already? Is this what you were waiting for? I was wondering why you kept glancing at the clock...” she mumbled.
What? “Over already”? Did she sense something?
As a Thief, she specialized in sniffing things out from a distance.
Did she mean the investigation?
I doubted even she could tell what was going on in White Wolf’s Den from here—and I had just sent out the additional hunters—but I had no other guess. If this was the case, it’d be great news to me: that was one less thing that would make me want to barf.
What talented friends I have! I’m glad they kinda even out my uselessness.
I was grinning at this silly thought when the door quietly opened.
“I’m home,” announced an unexpected voice—a quiet, soothing voice.
Liz frowned and let out an aggressive sigh. “Why did you come back alone so soon? You could’ve taken your time... Isn’t it your job to prep and clean up?”
“Jeez! You ditched us to come home alone too, Liz. You are in no position to be mad about that.”
Through the door came a person wearing an oversized, somber-colored coat concealing her silhouette. On her back, she wore a large, gray backpack that was impervious to stains.
Her hair, the same color as Liz’s, was in a neatly trimmed shoulder bob. Her downturned eyes gave off a gentle look below her bangs that reached just below her brow.
She was Sitri Smart, Level 2 Alchemist, the brains of Grieving Souls. She was usually tasked with reconnaissance, prep work, and cleanup tasks.
I’d long awaited her return.
If Liz was the sun, Sitri was the moon. Sitri didn’t burst with brilliant rays, but there was a tranquil beauty about her.
Sitri lowered her backpack, smiled at me, and said, “I’m sorry for the delay, Krai.”
“Welcome home, Sitri.”
My brain was working again. My smile grew in response to hers, and I set aside all my questions for the moment.
“What brings you back?” I said.
“I had...a bad feeling about something,” answered the biggest brain in our party quietly.
Sitri was brilliant. She always acted logically, in a way that made it hard to believe that she was sisters with Liz, whose fists moved faster than the synapses in her brain. In fact, Sitri was usually the one who kept the Grievers’ improvisational tendencies in check.
She was the weakest Griever in combat (next to me of course), but that was how things usually were with Alchemists: her wisdom more than made up for her lack of power.
Liz, unamused, watched her sister while Tino hid behind the sofa.
“I sense...something big is about to happen,” continued Sitri, “something very bad... I thought you’d require my assistance, so I asked for my leave from the expedition. Unlike my sister here, I didn’t ask to return just to see you—of course, I did miss you. Um...am I off the mark at all, Krai?”
Her out-of-the-box thinking and—more than anything—her lightning-fast wit made Sitri a genius in a completely different way than her sister. Sitri probably saw the world in a much different light than I did. In fact, she was so transcendent that her expansive knowledge was also praised by numerous academic institutions.
Sitri had crazy good instincts, so good that I never knew anyone whose hunch was more accurate than hers. Based on my personal experience, her hunches were almost always accurate—especially when they were foreboding.
Sitri clutched the ends of her sleeves and glanced at her sister and Tino as she said, “A powerful enemy—my enemy—has appeared. We have to crush it before it grows any stronger, Krai.”
Does she know about the slime? But regardless, this is good.
Sitri always showed up when you needed her the most.
I shall tap into that brilliant mind of hers again.
“Liz, Tino, can you excuse us?” I asked. “I gotta have a serious conversation with Sitri.”
“Whaaat?! No fair! I wanna hear too!” whined Liz.
“L-Lizzy, let’s go... Master has said so... You can’t possibly disobey...” Brave little Tino took the disgruntled Liz by her hand.
I owe her ice cream sometime.
Once we were alone in the room, I began to explain the tricky predicament I found myself in lately. I felt reassured by Sitri, who had been smiling confidently even though she must’ve sensed the gist of what I was telling her.
Sitri engrossed herself in thought and closed her eyes.
Back when we were kids, she’d been a quiet girl who was always reading a book. While her eyes and hair were of the same color as Liz’s, there were some differences between them. Sitri was a bit taller and more well-endowed; she also wasn’t tanned, and she looked gentler than Liz. Still, there were plenty of times when they obviously acted like sisters.
After a few minutes of silence, Sitri smiled at me—she must’ve finished organizing her thoughts. Her eyes were ablaze like her sister’s often were.
“I’m sorry, I hadn’t expected this,” she said. “I didn’t think the slime would grow this much. The capsule was made from a metal furthest from it in composition—”
“Wait, grow?” I asked.
“Slimes’ evolutionary speed—in other words, their ability to adapt to their environment—is among the highest of all organisms. As you know, the slime I gave you is one that I’d engineered to enhance its evolutionary speed. Well, it did turn out to be a failure.”
She spoke like I should’ve known it, but, as a matter of fact, I didn’t know.
Alchemists were really scholars. Sitri’s desire for the unknown far outshone her sister’s.
She’d remained calm and collected even as I’d told her my devastating mistake. Maybe she’d even expected me to let the slime get away.
“So could it have ‘adapted’ to slip out of the metallic capsule?” I asked.
“Yes, there’s such a possibility. Though it really outperformed my expectations.”
Why have you given me something like that? Keep an eye on that yourself! I thought to myself. Though I dared not say it out loud because I still thought it was more likely for me to have made some blunder than for a slime to have escaped a sealed metal capsule.
Sitri and I went down to my room. She cast her glance all over my neatly made bed and my organized rows of Relics rather than focusing on the safe that had once held the slime.
I’ve scoured the room up and down already, so there’s no point reinvestigating the place...
“Even if it did make it out of the capsule, it shouldn’t have slipped out of your Relic safe,” she muttered quietly. Her mutter was a sign of her deep concentration. “That space inside the Faultless Fortress is on a different phase than the space surrounding it. It should’ve taken the slime a substantial amount of time to overcome that through physical evolution, and there shouldn’t have been enough materials for it to evolve enough intellectually to unlock the safe from the inside by itself either. It should’ve also taken it a long time to learn to pass through objects, and its adaptability should’ve only allowed it to pass through the metalium alloy its capsule was made of—”
“Sorry, can you give me a summary?” I asked.
“Most likely, the slime had been hiding in the safe outside the capsule, and it escaped when you opened the safe,” said Sitri, smiling and putting her hands together. “Am I correct?”
How...am I supposed to know? Wait. Does that mean the slime was right there by my hand when I reached into the safe to grab the capsule?
The interior of the safe was unlit, and I’d been in a hurry. So that had been very possible.
I felt a shiver going down my spine.
A slime that could annihilate the entire capital, one whose mere traces the phantoms were afraid of. That thing was right by my hand in my room at some point?!
“How am I...still alive?” I blurted out.
“I did adjust it to not attack you,” said Sitri, like that was obvious.
The only things she’d told me were that the thing was dangerous and for me to hold on to it. This wasn’t something she should’ve skimped on when explaining.
“O-Okay, so it is safe to touch...?” I said.
“Well, to us at least. No matter how much I tweaked it, I could only mark two targets to be excluded as its prey,” she said. “But to be frank, Krai, that thing is too dangerous to be used as a Trial of yours. I’m very flattered that you’re using my creation, but it’ll be quite the disaster if it gets registered as a phantom by the world.”
What in the world are you talking about? So Sitri and I were safe, but it would attack anyone else indiscriminately? No way, I thought to myself. No way the brilliant Alchemist would hand off a defective monster like that to me!
But on the other hand, Sitri did have a track record of losing perspective when it came to her experiments...
Sitri looked around at the walls and floor then headed to the door to my bathroom at the end of the room.
“There’re no vents nor drains in this room,” she said. “But it’s still a slime, so it’d instinctively prefer moisture. I believe it’d gone into the bathroom. Most likely had escaped through the drain—do I have that right?”
“I keep the door closed when I’m not in here,” I said.
“Gaining mass within the Faultless Fortress wasn’t easy for it, being completely severed from the outside world. But it could easily crawl under a normal door. Isn’t that right, Krai?”
“Uh-huh?”
I was going to barf.
She kept asking me for confirmation, but the only thing I could honestly confirm was that I knew nothing about this slime.
Does Sitri really think I am the kind of person who can easily foresee all this? And hold on, this is a disaster. The drain in the bathroom leads to the sewage system connecting the entire city.
Sitri dusted the front of her robe then adorably crooked her neck and said, “Unlike normal slimes, that slime can easily survive the sewers: there’ll be plenty of bugs and small animals for it to feed on. If it’d acclimated to the dark interiors of the safe, it should also prefer dark places. Not likely that we’ve suffered any human casualties...yet. I see; you’ve thought out every step of the way, haven’t you?” she said.
Yeah, whatever she was talking about. The point I’d caught was that this thing likely hadn’t killed anyone yet.
I quietly sighed in relief; the worst-case scenario had been avoided.
But that being said, even with my nongenius mind, I could imagine that scouring the sewers for it would be a lot of work—who knew if the thing was still alive, even? I doubted either of us could spot it if it hid into the sewage. We couldn’t give up on trying to find it though.
Sitri was back in her thoughts, her eyes closed. I kept quiet so as to not disturb her, and she soon opened her eyes.
“I see. I understand. Please leave this to me,” she said, and she quickly changed the topic. “And about another matter—”
“I’ll let you handle it if you say so, but is there something else?” I said.
I’d let her handle it since she’d offered, but I wondered what else had to be taken care of so urgently.
Sitri leaned her body against mine. While she was taller than Liz, she was still shorter than average and so shorter than me. From her, I could smell traces of a sweet herb.
Entirely seriously, she said, “I think I know the cause behind the changes to White Wolf’s Den. Indeed very dangerous—the entire investigation team may end up dead.”
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