Strange Grief Wants to Retire ~ The Weakest Hunter Dreams of a Hero ~ - Volume 2 - Chapter 5

Chapter Five: The Prodigy

“Krai, I want to become the piece our party is missing.”

That was what Sitri had told me back when we were each still deciding what kind of treasure hunter we wanted to become. Even back then, she’d been—in contrast to her sister—quiet, kind, and brilliant.

“I’m not strong, so I was thinking, ‘That way, we can all stay together...’”

While the rest of them had chosen their roles based on what they wanted to do, Sitri had made her decision based on different criteria altogether. Liz had always run fast; Luke had seldom lost a fight; Ansem had always been dependable during tough times; and Lucia had always been able to cast a few basic spells. But Sitri had none of that—she didn’t have a noticeable talent. And that had shaped her thinking. Back when we weren’t even ten years old, Sitri had already been seeing the big picture better than any of us. She’d been basing her decision on what had been best for our party.

So, I’d patted her on the head and suggested, “What’s that one class? You like reading, Sitri, you know... The Alchemist! That’s the one.”

Only after a year had passed did I learn that Alchemists required exorbitant funds and profound knowledge to improve their craft and that it wasn’t even a class deemed suitable for treasure hunting. But by then, Sitri had already delved irreversibly deep into the trade. She just so happened to have a knack for the job, so much so that people had started calling her “The Prodigy.”

And so I owed her, even to this day. Even if I hadn’t, it was only natural that I’d wanted to help out a party mate who worked herself to the bone to serve the party (although it looked like she enjoyed it a lot).

In the clan master’s office, Sitri’s sister was clinging to me like a fly on honey. “Why does Siddy get to go but I don’t?! Why? Why? Why?!” she protested, endlessly whining into my eardrum.

I just nodded along, almost soothed by her droning. “Yeah... Uh-huh... You’re not going.”

And all the while, Tino spied on us from behind the safety of the couch.

“Krai, I want you to trust me and let me lead this quest!” Sitri had requested out of the blue. Briefly, she’d explained to me that the changes in White Wolf’s Den were possibly related to a case she’d been chasing for years. I didn’t really understand what she was chasing, but apparently it wasn’t treasure-hunting related. Even though I felt it was a shame that she had to be out on another job so soon after coming back, I wasn’t going to refuse if she sounded so determined. I’d never wanted to lead this mission anyway. So with the brilliant Sitri taking the reins, I had nothing to complain about, and neither should the other hunters.

Wistfully, she’d added another request. “And, if possible...please don’t let my sister run free-range.” Her eyes had looked at me sorrowfully.

Purring, Liz plopped herself onto my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Favoritism doesn’t look good, Krai—which is unless you’re favoring me. Am I not your favorite?”

A pleasant warmth spread into my lap. The sensation of her was so soft that I could hardly believe she could literally kill with those legs of hers. In her pale-ruby eyes, I saw my own stupid expression reflected. Were Eva to witness this, she’d see me as a scum for sure—if, by some miracle, she didn’t already.

Why does Liz want to nose-dive into battle all the time? Just the thought of going into that vault makes me want to barf.

If I let Liz run free-range now, there was a real chance she’d be so wound up that she’d kill everyone in White Wolf’s Den. To be honest, it’s tough to say if even Sitri had what it takes to rein her in.

Now that I think about it, “free-range” is quite the derogatory way to describe it.

“Krai, don’t leave me out, okay? Please?” continued Liz.

“If anything, I’m the one being left out,” I said.

But on second thought, I had Tino. Surely she was still on my side, right? Though when I looked at her, she just turned the other way.

What gives?

“I’ll be a good girl. I promise,” pleaded Liz. “Siddy might get killed on her own! She’s an Alchemist, the weakest of us all. If Killiam wasn’t in maintenance, it’d be a different story—I’m worried, Krai. Can I go?” Liz was working another angle now. As if she was concerned for Sitri’s safety at all.

Killiam was the “magical creature” Sitri usually toted around as her bodyguard. With a physique like a gray boulder, the hulking humanoid wore nothing but a bag with eye holes over its head and a bright-red banana hammock on its waist. To all appearances, Killiam was a highly disturbed human, but who was I to argue with Sitri when she called it a magical creature? As to what kind of magical creature it was, I hadn’t the slightest idea... And I usually tried not to think too hard about Killiam. Its name, by the way, was derived from the fact that it could only speak one word: “Kill.”

Maybe I’d find the thing less ridiculous if I were the kind of hunter who still takes on treasure vaults with my friends...

Still clinging to me, Liz breathed more saccharine words into my ear, “I wanna go, Krai. You don’t mind, do you? Pretty please... Just say yes! I’ll be a good girl, I swear!”

“No means no,” I said, not entertaining Liz’s childish tantrum.

***

Sitri had first come across Noctus’s work back when she still held the moniker “The Prodigy.” Primus Institute, the foremost authority of magical science and the frontier of new discoveries in Zebrudia, had taken an interest in Sitri’s unique research at the time and had granted her special permission to enter one of the forbidden libraries. Among its collections, she’d found the thesis “The Nature of Mana Material and the Potential of Treasure Vaults,” authored by Noctus Cochlear, the Master of Magi.

Hidden under its simple title, the thesis had outlined a dangerous idea that had earned the paper its place in the library inaccessible to most: the possibility of manipulating a treasure vault without altering its landscape through manipulating certain characteristics of mana material. Little testing had been documented in the paper, but with this knowledge, according to the proposed theory, one could do anything from destroying existing treasure vaults to rebuilding them all over again at minimal cost—feats unbound by mortal limitations.

Had a no-name Magus presented the same theory, they would’ve been laughed out of the Institute. The outlandishness of his thesis was the only thing that had kept Noctus’s punishment to a mere banishment from the empire despite him having committed one of the ten capital crimes; even the thesis itself had never been burned but only locked away.

Sitri’s experience as a treasure hunter had helped her recognize the danger of the topic presented in the paper. While a thesis was as good as a pipe dream, this had opened up the possibility of the dream becoming reality. But Sitri had known beyond a doubt that the author of the thesis would one day test his theory in real life. His lust for knowledge, pride, or perhaps his desire for revenge against the capital that had spit him out had been sure to drive Noctus to follow through with his experiment.

Sitri considered Noctus—banished or not—a colleague of hers at Primus Institute. Thus had begun Sitri Smart’s lonely fight.

***

Sitri’s matter-of-fact retelling of her past discovery hushed the entire camp—it was too outlandish.

One of the Vault Investigation Bureau agents who’d arrived with Gark shouted, nearly foaming at the mouth, “Th-That’s impossible! Noctus was permanently banished for touting his nonsense, never allowed to set foot in the capital again! And now you’re talking about...Akashic Tower?!” And his gaze was as if asking Sitri another question, Even if you’re telling the truth, why are you investing so much time and effort into a thesis you just stumbled upon? But the agent’s doubt and fear didn’t rattle Sitri in the slightest.

“I don’t expect you to believe me,” she said. “That’s why I’ve been chasing the Master of Magi on my own. But take the recent anomalies in this treasure vault: that slimy thing from earlier must’ve been a byproduct of his experiments.”

Truth is stranger than fiction, thought Sven. Can’t verify what she just said without more to go on, but it makes sense. And if she’s right, it’s possible that they’ll destroy every existing treasure vault. And that we’ll have to prevent at all costs.

The other Alchemist in the group, Talia, with her crimson hair, timidly raised her hand and said, “So the device should be underground...right?”

“Yes,” answered Sitri. “His theory requires a large device to produce the desired effect. But considering that the device is the crux of his research, I doubt we could find it now. Seeing how we had been fighting that monster, it looks like our opponents are already prepared for battle.”

“What...?” said Talia, her crimson eyes widened.

Without addressing Talia any further, Sitri looked around the group of hunters. All of them could still fight, except for Gein.

“I’ll interrogate the Magi whom Gein has captured,” she said. “If that thing was a wolf knight forcibly transformed by a potion, I can imagine Akashic Tower has a follow-up attack prepared and is ready to strike.”

Commotion stirred among the battalion in anticipation of an imminent wave of faux slimes that they’d have to contend with—just one of those monsters was already bad enough.

“B-But we can throw that rod at it...right?” asked Marietta. Some color had returned to her cheeks now that she was briefly rested.

“I’m sorry. But that was my only piece of anti-mana metal. I couldn’t have imagined I’d encounter something like this...”

“Krai didn’t tell you?” asked Lyle.

Sitri just cocked her head and said, “Tell me what?”

Looks like the Thousand Tricks keeps even his party members in the dark just as much as he keeps the rest of us, thought Sven.

Sven’s arrow had already obliterated the baton that Sitri had thrown at the first faux slime. Perhaps they could find a fragment of it in the area, but Sven doubted that would be enough to take out another faux slime, let alone several more. Anti-mana metal was so seldom used that no one could’ve blamed Sitri for not carrying any more with her, whatever her original intention for the material might have been.

Seeing that dread had clouded over her fellow hunters, Sitri said, “But I feel confident that we can beat them. The barrier isn’t perfect, and it won’t last forever because it expends so much mana. I’ll analyze how it works and find a way to beat it. With this many hunters together, it won’t be too difficult.” Sitri’s calm encouragement seemed reassuring, especially when she’d defeated the first faux slime so easily. And she continued, “Although I can’t lead like Krai, I will do the best I can. As an Alchemist, I don’t have what it takes to fight on my own—I need all of your help.”

Then she gave directions to the group, and they dispersed accordingly.

Watching Sitri go, Henrik exchanged a few words with Sven. “She’s so mature about it,” he said, his eyes alight with almost too much admiration for a hunter he’d just met.

“Huh...? Yeah, sure,” said Sven.

“Who admits that they’re powerless in a fight? A Cleric’s far from the best class when it comes to combat, but you’ll never hear me say that to a crowd.”

“Like I’ve said, Sitri’s a strong weakling.”

“What...?”

Sven looked at the rookie with a sharp gaze and said, “Be careful, Henrik; don’t get sucked into all that. Sitri’s a tricky one. She is strong; has been for years, regardless of how she sees herself.”

Truly, would someone so weak be chasing a heretic Magus on her own? Would someone so helpless be so calm in the face of that faux slime she’d never seen before? It didn’t matter if it was technically Sven who took the shot to finish the faux slime. It didn’t add up.

“Sitri thinks she can get away with anything because she’s ‘weak’; that she should always use all means at her disposal. There’s more to her than meets the eye, Henrik. As far as I know, Sitri’s just as freakish as the rest of the Grievers.”

“Got it...!” said Henrik.

While the rest of the battalion rehydrated themselves and recovered their mana with potions, Gein and a few others returned with the two Magi responsible for creating the faux slime. Apparently, they were still on the ground. The Akashic Tower Magi fruitlessly flailed atop the shoulders of the mighty hunters bringing them in. Like a pair of worms, they were dumped onto the ground, surrounded by the battalion. Though it’d cost him his right arm, Gein had struck big by detaining these Magi.

Sven looked at the pair on the ground: there were a tanned middle-aged man with dark hair and a man who looked like he hadn’t seen the sun in months. While Sven had most of the wanted posters memorized, none of them depicted either of these Magi.

Sweat beading on his face, one of the Magi said, “Don’t tell me you’ve defeated it...!”

“You work for Noctus Cochlear, don’t you?” asked Sitri out of the blue.

Their expressions changed, and they were now staring at Sitri with their eyes wide open.

Sitri was so frail in stature that she almost looked childlike in comparison to the detained Magi. But their expressions twisted as they recognized Sitri, who smiled at them. Contrasted by the harrowed expression on the men, she almost seemed like a cat playing with her prey.

“My name is Sitri Smart,” she started. “Answer my questions, and I’ll make sure you both live. Where is the Master of Magi?”

“Ha! As if we aren’t ready to lay down our lives! You’ll never find where he is,” said one of the Magi with a fierce grin, his eyes blazing with resolve.

A telltale sign of a hard nut to crack, observed Sven. Let’s see how you go about it, Sitri.

“I see... Thank you,” said Sitri cheerfully, putting her hands together. “Just wanted to confirm you really worked for him.”

Is Sitri right about everything after all? wondered Sven, not that he had any reason to doubt Sitri’s claim beyond the unlikelihood of its premise. Now, he saw similarities between her tactic and the Thousand Tricks’s foresight in that they both extracted information from the slightest clues. So far he preferred Sitri’s method as she offered some sort of explanation at least.

With the two captives quivering speechlessly on the ground, Sitri crouched down to their level and said, “Just so you know, I’ve been chasing you lot for a long time. Just didn’t expect you to start things while I’m out on my day job. There’s much about you I already know, and there are many preparations I’ve already made in anticipation. If possible, I want to avoid taking violent measures. So I’ll ask you just one more time, ‘Where is Noctus Cochlear?’”

Underneath her flawless smile, her eyes gleamed in demand for answers. Her smile looked so out of place in an interrogation. It drained the color from the faces of the captive Magi, but they still kept their lips tightly sealed.

“Pain isn’t my preferred tool of interrogation. So...I brought along with me a potion that I think will help loosen your lips a little.”

Snapping open the potion pouch on her belt, she produced a vial containing a lavender-colored liquid. Talia quietly gasped at the sight of it.

One of the Bureau agents said harshly, “That better not be a vial of Kakia!”

No answer.

“That’s a dangerous potion that can tamper with their mind. Zebrudia outlawed its use and manufacture under any circumstance! Don’t you dare use that as a truth serum! And how did you get your hands on that anyway?! Did you compound that yourself?!”

Not only could the drug be used as a truth serum, but also for erasing memories or even brainwashing. The nervous expression on the agent’s face as he squeezed Sitri’s wrist was an indication of how dangerous Kakia could be.

“Desperate times,” said Sitri. “We don’t have much time left before they get away.”

“You dare to break the law so brazenly in front of an officer?!”

“Yes; in pursuit of justice.” Sitri made a gesture of covering her ears—hear no evil.

Wrath seemed to flicker in a rainbow of shades on the agent’s expression.

What is she thinking...? wondered Sven.

Whatever reason Noctus and his team had had for attacking the hunters, Sven knew how careful Magi were. It made sense, as Sitri stated, that they wouldn’t stick around any longer than they had to. Still, two wrongs did not make a right. The hunters gathered here weren’t criminals who were used to brazen acts of crime. If Sitri had used the illegal drug discreetly, it would’ve been one thing. But to almost put on a show of it in front of this crowd seemed too risky.

Commanding every set of eyes in the camp, Sitri said with a half smile, “I’m kidding... This is just colored water.”

“What?!”

“See?” Sitri popped the cork out of the vial and drank its content before anyone could stop her. Magi in the battalion watched in horror as she swallowed the liquid and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. The gentle light in her eyes seemed to flicker for a moment.

“It’s okay. I’ve built up an immunity to colored water. Besides, it looks like we’re out of time. Let’s save our questions for later.”

Taking his cue from Sitri, Sven now realized the ground was quaking ever so slightly. Hunters wasted no time to arm themselves, understanding what was to come. Some were white with dread, some were hardened by resolve, and some were still looking at Sitri.

Bound and writhing on the ground, one of Noctus’s Magi maniacally shouted, “Here come the reinforcements! This is the end! Death to all who stand in the way of our noble pursuit!”

Gark retrieved his halberd Relic from the carriage and stood to guard the two noncombatants.

Sounds of trees crashing and a cacophony of familiar screeches were rapidly approaching.

Sven clicked his tongue and said, “So there are more of them!”

“I’d guessed as much from what Gein has told us,” said Sitri. “They’re most likely a mass production model.”

“Mass production... I don’t like the sound of that. Any plans?” asked Sven.

“Let’s attack in turns, starting with physical attacks. A mana barrier can defend its user either by reflecting, deflecting, or blocking. Maybe continuous pressure can push a blade through it, or a certain element of magic may slip past it. Anyhow, testing shall reveal its weakness. I’ve taken out this phantom once—I’ll take charge.”

Calmness seemed to spread from Sitri to the other hunters as they formed a circle around her. Her loose-fitting robe made her look more like a scholar than a hunter gearing for combat, but no one paid any mind to it.

“We have the War Demon on our side. They shouldn’t be a problem,” said Sitri.

Gark chuckled. “That’s the former War Demon to you. I’m retired, kid. Don’t count on me to carry you through this.” A grin flashed under the helmet he had put on to complete his set of armor. “It’s been too long since I’ve been on the playground. I’ll take on a hundred of them.”

“There should be a limit to how much damage the barrier can take,” noted Sitri. “Although if Sven’s arrow couldn’t pierce it, we might struggle to reach that limit.”

Then, as Sitri pondered, a faux slime crashed through the woods into the clearing.

“Its color’s different!” said one of the hunters.

“Probably a different foundation!” remarked Sitri.

Unlike the last blob with white and black splotches, this faux slime was crimson all over. And although it was only a third in size, it was moving twice as fast. It was still slow enough for the hunters to evade it, but it wouldn’t be as easy. This realization shook the hunters.

Sitri’s voice, quiet but sure, rang out. “Vanguard, step forward. Block it with your shield!”

“What?!” replied Lyle, halted where he was about to clear the way.

“I’m going to measure the direction and magnitude of the force field. Pull your shield back and retreat the moment you feel any weight on it. This is necessary for us to defeat it!”

Lyle glanced down at the shield in his left hand, held it up as commanded, and stood his ground.

When the blob came close enough to Lyle, it kicked off the ground to tackle its target with full force. The moment the blob struck his shield, the shield spun and flew out of Lyle’s hands.

A shiver ran down Sven’s neck. With his excellent vision, Sven saw the whole sequence. He now understood how Gein lost his arm and how the faux slime could destroy trees on contact. Lyle’s shield had spun in its spot upon colliding with the blob. Lyle had held on for only a moment before the torque had become too great, and he’d missed the chance to let go of his shield. Having braced the shield with both hands, he had both his arms caught in the revolving shield, and the rotation had crushed his bones and torn his flesh. Then the shield had gone flying.

Screaming in agony, Lyle was pulled away from the faux slime by two hunters who held him by his underarms above where the rest of his arms dangled, barely unsevered.

The faux slime had stopped its march, now taking in the sight of the hunters.

“Healers, tend to him please. Magi, hold it off with fire magic from all directions,” commanded Sitri without batting an eye. “So a rotational force field. Clockwise? Does it depend on where it’s struck? With enough force to break through a guard’s shield, close combat with that thing would be a nightmare—Luke would love a chance to slice through it though.”

A storm of fire assaulted the faux slime, brought on by a large team of Magi who coordinated their attacks to maintain a constant bombardment.

“It’s too strong...” muttered Sven. “Too much of a pain, anyway. I’m trying to forget that this thing’s technically alive. Did you say it would fall apart over time, Sitri?”

“Theoretically,” she answered. “But not in our case, realistically. Considering its body mass, amount of mana spent on its barrier, and amount of mana generated by its mana material, it’ll last an hour at least. Casting magic spells at the barrier can eat up some of its mana, marginally shortening that duration. But considering the quality and quantity of the Magi here, our best play is to find its weakness through trial and error.”

“How long is that gonna take? Will we make it?!” asked Sven.

“I’ll figure it out as quickly as I can. But running isn’t an option,” said Sitri.

Sven swore. Is there no other way?

Although he’d gathered the arrows he’d fired at the first faux slime, Sven knew it wouldn’t damage this second one after his best shot hadn’t left a mark on the first.

Could Ark have broken through that barrier? Powerlessness threatened to overcome him. No time to sulk, Sven told himself. I can at least help hold it off.

Meanwhile, Sitri was muttering her ongoing analysis to herself, “I know. Rapid-fire magic at a concentrated area could temporarily pierce or negate that point in the barrier... Highly technical solution; not plausible with our current team...”

“There’s another one!” shouted Sven.

“What?!” Taken by surprise, Sitri looked up.

Another faux slime was approaching them, tearing up the woods along the way. The one currently being held off by the spray of magic spells turned and beheld its reinforcement of the same size and color.

“No...” Talia let out a weak cry. “We haven’t even...taken out the first one.”

Sven finally understood why Krai wanted Ark on the job. Sven thought he had come to learn the hard way how hopelessly treacherous Krai’s Thousand Trials could be, but he still wasn’t prepared for this. Dealing with one nearly unbeatable enemy was one thing, but facing multiple of them seemed like a far cry from a “Trial.”

We can hold them both off for a bit, considered Sven, but we already got our hands full with one... I don’t see an out. Could we even run if we tried with how exhausted we are?

Even Sitri was staring at the faux slime duo in astonishment.

“Let’s bolt, Sitri. We’re in over our heads.”

Sitri let out a long sigh and said, “Indeed... I didn’t expect them to deploy more than one at a time.” Her eyes were downcast.

Running’s our only option, thought Sven. I’m concerned about Noctus’s research, but we can’t follow through with that if we’re dead. Sven looked to Gark, who nodded in response. We’re running from tireless slimes that swallow anything in their paths, and there are two of them! It’s do-or-die.

Just as Sven was about to call for a retreat, Sitri groaned in disappointment and said, “How anticlimactic... What a moron they have working at Akashic Tower!”

“Huh?” Sven couldn’t squeak out any more words in response to the unexpected comment.

“Hold your fire, Magi,” said Sitri. “Everyone, step back.”

Hesitantly, the Magi ceased their bombardment and stepped away from the pair of faux slimes...that weren’t pursuing the hunters even when they were no longer being attacked—they simply stared at one another.

When the second faux slime came to about ten meters away from the first, it halted. It then bent its knees, ready to spring, and the first followed suit. Then, the blobs leaped into the air, and they smashed into each other.

“What the...?” muttered Sven in amazement.

It was like watching two feral beasts duel; one blob raised its fingerless arm, and the other slammed its head into it. Each impact was marked by an explosive sound, and the faux slimes continued slamming into each other as they melted more and more.

Mouths agape, the hunters simply watched the clash unfold, suddenly relieved from the threat of death. Even Noctus’s apprentices were dumbfounded by the sight.

“This proves my hypothesis,” said Sitri. “They’ve been attacking us not out of intelligent thoughts nor malice but out of pure instinct to recuperate their melting body—they were searching for mana material. They take no heed of human orders. Of course, if they encounter another like them, they’d start killing each other—after all, phantoms are a better source of mana material than hunters.” With her hand on her forehead, Sitri stood watching the faux slimes.

Now that Sitri had explained it, the hunters could see how this had come to be. Meanwhile, the faux slimes continued clashing with the same ferocity, and with every clash, more and more of their bodies melted away, shrinking them in size. Neither of them so much as glanced at the hunters.

“I guess we were...lucky,” said Sven.

“This could be considered a weakness, I suppose,” said Sitri.

“Another one! How many are there...? Oh...”

The third faux slime jumped into the fray of blobs, and a stinging stench wafted into the air. The explosive storm of clashing mana barriers grew, leaving out the hunters altogether.

Even the two captives were watching this dumbfounded. “This can’t be... We were never told that—”

“Now, thanks to your ‘friends’ taking care of that interruption, we can continue our negotiation,” said Sitri.

With the two Vault Investigation Bureau agents exhausted and dazed, and with the hunters watching the slimes collide from a distance, there was no one around to stop Sitri. Standing over the captives, Sitri shot them murderous looks.

Then Talia timidly walked up to them and said, “Um...Sitri, maybe we should regroup in the capital. We didn’t expect all that, and some of us are at our breaking points...”

Relentless attacks from the faux slimes had worn out the entire battalion. Unlike Sitri, who’d joined the mission afterwards, the hunters had been sweeping through the treasure vault before all of this. Most still had the stamina to carry on, but they were mentally exhausted. After all, high-level hunters were still human; even Sven was beginning to feel the day weighing on him. While Talia’s suggestion was a bit cautious, Sven was inclined to agree with her.

“We can build another team to deal with Noctus Cochlear, and...” Talia trailed off.

Sitri let her gaze dart through the air for some time before saying, “All right. Let’s rest for a bit while we take turns keeping watch. I have...something I need to look into as well. Sven, keep someone on our captives at all times please. I have use for them later.”

“Got it,” answered Sven.

Sitri sighed and walked away, presumably to contemplate their next move.

Akashic Tower would certainly have more arrows in its quiver than just these faux slimes, assumed Sven. What do we do now...?

As he prepared to give the battalion their orders, he glanced at the captive Magi, whose expressions wildly differed from a minute ago. Their deadly determination to keep their secrets had been replaced by utter disbelief—they couldn’t believe their eyes, which were fixed on the crimson-haired Alchemist.

***

Glowering down at Flick and his two cohorts was a pair of blazing eyes that belonged to Noctus Cochlear, a man whose face was carved with deep wrinkles that testified to his decades of dedication to his research. From him, a tremendous aura of mana exuded, so strong that it paled those of Sophia and even Flick, a top-notch Magus, in comparison.

“You understand why you were summoned,” said Noctus.

His three apprentices cowered before his wrath. “Y-Yes, we have f-failed you.”

None of the apprentices had expected the transmogrified phantoms to attack each other. To make matters worse for them, they couldn’t release the phantoms all at once as they had to inject each of them with the potion, and this had delayed the apprentices from noticing the phantoms’ cannibalistic tendencies. When the dust had settled, Flick had already expended all of their transmogrification potions—a substantial portion of their arsenal—all because they’d disobeyed Sophia’s order. Humiliation shook Flick’s shoulders.

Noctus slammed his staff in fury and said, “Did I not command you to follow Sophia’s orders as my own?! Has your stupidity no end?!”

Sophia’s voice came through the active Sounding Stone on the table. “That was a highly effective weapon at a very low cost. Most foes would be overwhelmed by its sheer destructive power and nearly flawless defense despite its short life span.”

Phase one had been a complete disaster, but Sophia still hadn’t appeared before the other apprentices. This enraged Flick so much that he bit his lip until it bled.

“What’s threatening about high-level hunters is not their combat capabilities but their adaptability,” continued Sophia. “Half-baked traps and purely destructive monsters can’t so much as slow them down. The potion was inadequately tested and far from perfect, of course, but that would’ve been a nonissue with the slightest bit of imagination. If you’d imagined why I chose to deploy them one at a time, for example.”

Precisely because there were no shades of ridicule in Sophia’s tone, Flick was blinded with rage. He would’ve flipped the table at Sophia and her lack of explanation if it weren’t for his master’s glare.

“Forgive the incompetence of my fellow apprentices, Master,” concluded Sophia.

“The potion was just a small portion of our research,” said Noctus, burying his anger. “We still have plenty of other weapons to deploy.”

As a practitioner of forbidden science, Noctus had put much effort into building defenses to protect his work from the law and even the lawless. Still in his arsenal were chimeras created from monsters, potions that enhanced the human body, and a final line of defense that had cost him an arm and a leg—Akashic Tower wouldn’t budge just because one of its weapons was depleted.

“Our assumptions are already incorrect,” said Sophia gravely, however. “Not only were the hunters largely unscathed, but they also have Gark Welter among their ranks—that’s a former Level 7 hunter who has supposedly retired that we’re facing. He’s a hero without a doubt.”

Graveness sneaked onto Noctus’s expression too. He was very familiar with Gark, the man in charge of the Association branch of the capital. Gark had been such a fearsome warrior that there had been an admittedly shaky rumor of him killing dragons—widely regarded as the most powerful species there was—for sport. Yet, he wasn’t the kind of man to easily leave the city. In fact, Gark hadn’t even been listed on the list of hunters assigned to this mission, which had been leaked to Noctus beforehand.

“Since we’re all out of phantoms, we’d have a hard time taking him on,” said Sophia.

Finally, Flick snapped. “Sophia!” he shouted at the Stone. “Are you so hell-bent on making everything my fault?!”

Sure, Flick had made a mistake. But it was already so unexpected that the first transmogrified phantom hadn’t taken a single hunter down with it.

The blame doesn’t lie solely on me, he thought.

Ignoring Flick and his tantrum, a man tasked with reconnaissance placed his hands on his table and said, “Should we retreat? If we turn back now, we can keep losses on our end to a minimum.”

“No,” immediately answered Sophia. “Retreating now when we have nothing to show for it is no different than defeat. Besides, two of us are being held hostage. They may be compelled to divulge our information any day.”

“Are you insulting them?!” bellowed Flick. “Not a word about us will pass their lips even as they draw their last breath!”

Flick had mentored the captured Magi himself. They were his comrades in research, and they were far better Magi than Sophia.

“I’d like to believe that, Flick.”

Huffing in outrage, Flick was painfully aware of the disdain in his master’s eyes pointed at him. There had been failures after failures. At this rate, his position as Second Apprentice may be in jeopardy even if he somehow made it through this predicament—that would put him at an unacceptably lower status than Sophia.

Sophia said without a hint of anger, “Let’s wear them out first and finish them off with ‘Akasha.’ This is the tipping point—kill them all, and there won’t be a trace of us left to follow. Deploy the Malice Eaters.”

Flick’s expression hardened at the implication.

The Malice Eaters, created through countless experiments led by Noctus and Sophia, were chimeras made up of a complex combination of monsters; revolutionary living weapons they were. Unlike the transmogrified phantoms that couldn’t obey orders, Malice Eaters were obedient, powerful, and cooperative with each other. However, they couldn’t be easily replenished, and more importantly—

“We need a maestro to utilize their full potential,” said Noctus.

While highly intelligent, the Malice Eaters didn’t understand strategy, nor had they received enough training to fully function as weapons. Combined with their lack of long-range attack options, the chimeras seemed to be a somewhat lacking option to take on a battalion of hunters including multiple monikered veterans.

A drop of cold sweat trickled down Flick’s cheek.

“I’m sure Flick is eager to prove his usefulness,” spoke the voice beyond the Sounding Stone mercilessly. “I’ve some final preparations to make. All the Malice Eaters are at your disposal. I look forward to witnessing your...tactical prowess. Though if a Magus of your reputation can’t produce any results with them...”

“Understood...!” snarled Flick, barely concealing his boiling blood.

***

The dimness of dusk had swept the forest; the sun had nearly sunk beneath the horizon. The night belonged to the monsters—even a hunter’s enhanced senses weren’t as acute in the dark. Hence one of the most basic principles of treasure hunting was to wake and rest with the sun.

Outside White Wolf’s Den, the hunters’ base camp was luminated by a bonfire. All was quiet now that the faux slimes had cannibalized each other out of existence.

On the unpredictable battlefield, hunters’ spirits depleted faster than their stamina, impeding even the best-trained hunters. There wasn’t a face among the hunters unblemished by weariness. The pair of Vault Investigation Bureau agents, who weren’t as physically hardy, were resting on their sides completely wiped out.

“I went to hell and back the day we witnessed Prism Garden materializing. Compared to that day, today was a walk in the park,” said Sven.

“Was it that bad, huh?” said Gein.

Gein and the other non-First Steps hunters whispered to each other in disbelief. Among them, also, was Henrik, who hadn’t been there to witness the event.

The “flower-viewing incident” was still being retold among Steps members. It was the turning point for all who’d been there—everything they’d thought they knew about treasure hunting had gone out the window that day.

“Our enemy today was a phantom, but we fought against the environment that day,” said Sven.

Prism Garden, as its name suggested, was a beautiful treasure vault blanketed with an expanse of beautiful flowers in every shape and color. But underneath the picturesque veneer lay a garden from hell: a Level 7 treasure vault that Sven still had nightmares about.

“Pollen,” he explained, “knocked out half of First Steps seconds after the vault materialized.”

Prism Garden had appeared in a preexisting flower field. Mana material had transformed the field into a sea of mysterious flowers, and petals and pollen had filled the air. The chalky flowers induced sleep in anyone who touched or sniffed at them. The effect was so potent that it’d rendered even strong-minded hunters unconscious within seconds.

Treasure vaults could be categorized not only by their layouts but also into several other types. Among them, Prism Garden was categorized under the “Environment” type, denoting that its environment was the most challenging aspect of the vault.

“There was a big shift in the ley lines,” explained Sven. “My view changed all of a sudden. And before I understood what was going on, my consciousness was already fading away. The flowers didn’t just put you to sleep—they paralyzed; they poisoned; they did much more than that. But of course, we still had to deal with phantoms on top of that: carnivorous plants and beasts adapted to that environment and became powerful phantoms. The whole treasure vault’s a trap waiting to spring on hunters—there’s no chance you’re making it out of there alive without major prep.”

“So how did you make it out alive?” asked one of the hunters.

“We were lucky we had the Grievers with us.”

When Prism Garden had first materialized, it hadn’t been quite as lethal as it was today because it hadn’t accumulated as much mana material yet. For combat-centric parties like Obsidian Cross, though, it’d been practically the worst vault imaginable. If they had been the only party there, their bodies would’ve long become fertilizer for the flowers by now.

“Grieving Souls got us out of there. I still remember it like it was yesterday,” said Sven.

The Grievers had sprung into action without a word as if they’d planned it all out beforehand. While Sven had stood semiconscious and still unaware of his surroundings, Liz had stabbed herself in the gut with her dagger, Luke had bitten off his own tongue, and Lucia had broken off her pinky; each of them had jolted themselves awake with pain. Then, they’d all put on their masks that emblematized their party.

Wind had blown away the pollen, and flames scorched the flowers. The scene of smiling skulls roaming freely across the field of fire and smoke had been seared deep into the memories of the First Steps hunters who’d been still conscious to witness it.

It had been all because of their split-second decisions.

The Grievers had earned their monikers and fame now, but they’d been on the same level as Obsidian Cross back then with very similar levels and physical capabilities. How had the Grievers been so quick on committing to the unthinkable decisions of self-harm? In hindsight, Sven knew the answer. Experience had separated Grieving Souls from Obsidian Cross. Although the Crosses had been in the business longer, the Grievers had been through far more life-and-death situations.

As the powerful always garnered respect in the world of treasure hunters, no one in First Steps would utter an ill word about Grieving Souls—not openly, at least. Their reputation was far from pristine, but the Grievers still garnered fanatic supporters.

Grieving Souls and its insane leaps to action had inspired fear even in Sven. The word “talented” simply didn’t cut it—the Grievers were superhuman.

And Sven had thanked fate for having them in the same clan. Yet he’d had no intention of remaining stagnant after witnessing that; he still had had pride as a hunter after all. Many other hunters must’ve shared his sentiment since First Steps had grown to become a clan boasting one of the longest registries in the capital. And this had also been why many hunters still eagerly answered Krai’s request to this day.

While the hunters around the fire listened to Sven retelling the story, their two captives remained bound and on their sides without struggling. Their eyes were fixed on something—someone.

Sven noticed something peculiar in their gaze, and he said, “Hey, Talia, you know these two?”

“No, not...at all.”

Talia turned her gaze to the ground, clearly more exhausted than most of the other hunters. In contrast, Sitri seemed completely unaffected by the day’s work.

“Um...Sven, I’m sorry...about the slime-killer,” said Talia as she shrank herself into her robe.

“Huh? Oh, don’t sweat it. It’s all Krai’s fault.”

Sven had counted on Talia’s potion to work, but it hadn’t been her fault that it hadn’t. Considering that she hadn’t even had a hand in making it, she shouldn’t bear the blame. If Sven was to blame anyone, it would be Krai for his use of the vague descriptor “something like a slime” for the threat he clearly had known about.

Talia still seemed downcast. “But if I was as knowledgeable as Sitri...”

“Yeah...but you’re not Sitri. She’s a great Alchemist and a Griever after all. Though if you still feel bad about it, you just gotta get stronger,” said Sven.

“Y-Yes... Thank you.”

“I’d whip up some master plans too—if I could see the future like Krai does.”

Noctus Cochlear, abuse of mana material, manipulation of a treasure vault, and bizarre phantoms. All these concerns together—not to mention that they were facing off against a major illegal magic syndicate—still weren’t enough for Krai to come take care of the business himself. Instead, he’d just made it into another Trial. Staring into the darkness of the forest, Sven wondered when exactly later would Krai decide to join them. Secretly, he resolved to give the clan master a piece of his mind once he came.

Meanwhile, Gark frowned at how grave their situation had turned out to be. He’d only believed Sitri partially, but there was no refuting the reality with this much evidence in his face.

The Association wasn’t quite aware of how far and wide Akashic Tower stretched in the underground, though they were known to be powerful enough to kill even high-level hunters every now and then. Akashic Tower was a particularly sinister and vast organization among the numerous illegal magic syndicates out there. Having recruited plenty of notorious Magi and Alchemists, they’d perpetrated at least several acts of terror across the continent supposedly all in the name of “pursuing truth.” And naturally, the syndicate and its known members had earned places on the most wanted lists.

Still, Gark had never heard of them operating in the empire. Their experiments must’ve been kept extremely secret. Without Krai and Sitri, Gark would’ve been never the wiser until the experiments came to fruition.

Sitri’s determination to hunt them down had almost matched the length to which Akashic Tower had gone to maintain their secrecy. From just one thesis, she’d uncovered the syndicate that had remained undetected for so long. Gark couldn’t imagine what kind of maniacal scribble must’ve been contained in that paper to drive Sitri to pursue them so dedicatedly.

Over the years, Gark had become very familiar with the Grievers, and he knew Sitri was no saint but rather a troublemaker—in a different way than how Liz or Luke was. To put it simply, Sitri’s problem lay in the fact that she’d do anything to accomplish her goal, as seen in her almost drugging the captives with an illegal potion.

What’s her goal anyway? wondered Gark. Could she be after whatever Akashic Tower keeps in its treasury, probably heavily guarded by mechanisms and other hunters?

But soon he scoffed the ridiculous idea out of his mind. While it wasn’t far-fetched to think that the syndicate hoarded rare items, Sitri would never chase something that couldn’t be verified. And besides, the Grievers were good enough to hunt down any rare item they wanted on their own. Gark decided he wouldn’t make wild assumptions just yet; that wouldn’t be becoming of an Association branch manager.

Just then, Sitri returned to the camp after inspecting the aftermath of the faux slimes’ cannibalism. Behind her, the Thieves she brought along with her were engaged in a serious discussion.

Sven, who had been chiefly guarding their camp, stood to greet her. “Nothing new on my end. Found anything, Sitri?”

She smiled with a hint of weariness and said, “Yes. How about the approximate location of their base?”

“What now...?” asked Sven.

As dread seeped into the pair of captives, Sitri produced a large fold-up map from her backpack.

“To tell the truth, I already had some locations in mind.”

Her map depicted the areas neighboring the capital, including the one in which they were now. Sitri had color-coded areas and noted details like topographic information all over it.

“A base close to a treasure vault was one of the concrete requirements for setting up the device outlined in Noctus’s thesis. Over time, I’ve looked into every candidate and considered how the ley lines flow under them, the density of mana material in them, the topographic and geological data of those areas, and such. In the end, I wasn’t left with too many locations suitable to hide a lab in. Combining that with the location where they’ve unleashed that abomination today, I’ve uncovered the answer.”

While an Alchemist’s job involved much research by its nature, Sitri’s quest had been fueled by her obsession. Even the pair of Vault Investigation Bureau agents looked in awe at the meticulousness displayed on the map.

“This here is a lot more info than you could’ve possibly researched on your own,” said Sven.

“Krai helped me out...just a little bit,” admitted Sitri.

“So that’s what he’s up to when he never goes to vaults...”

Sitri walked the group through her map, checking off location by location with a pen. Throughout her explanation, she never used overcomplicated vocabulary, yet still displayed her razor-sharp intellect. Using information anyone could see on the surface—like mana material density approximated from ley lines, the convenience of the location for someone wanting to build a lab, the difficulty of defending the location against attackers, volume of traffic, and range of magic spells that could be used for surveillance—Sitri had deduced potential locations with brilliant logic and well-calculated guesses. Eventually, she’d narrowed down the countless candidates to a spot close to where they were now.

“Therefore I believe their base is located by the cliff here. The side opening allows for easy escape and defense; it’s not as noticeable as erecting a building and far less laborious than digging an underground structure from scratch; there’s water nearby; and it’s not too far from where the first faux slime was unleashed.”

“K-Keep wasting your time!” shouted one of the captives out of the blue. “You’ll never find it by guessing!” Despite being tied up for hours now, he still seemed energetic enough to thrash about.

With a smile, Sitri brushed the map with her fingertip and said, “I’m pretty confident about it. Let’s send in a scouting party.”

Then the captive began madly screaming, “Kill her! Sophia! Release me! Do not let her go near our master!” His cursing echoed throughout the forest.

Gark gave Sven a look and thought, Sophia? Who’s he talking about?

Clearly unfamiliar with the name, Sven returned a confused gaze as well. It sounded like the captive was calling for a hidden agent, who surely knew better than to show themselves when called.

“Yes... How easy it would be if she just did,” said Sitri, her brows furrowed.

Talia’s shoulders shook at the brutal tone of Sitri’s voice.

“Hey, Sitri...you recognize the name?” asked Sven.

“Why, yes. She’s the secondary objective of my pursuit,” explained Sitri. “She’s the first apprentice to Noctus Cochlear and my nemesis, if you will. No matter how much I find out about her, she just vanishes into the shadows. This research won’t stop until we apprehend both of them. If I had to describe her...” Sitri looked at Talia with a hint of melancholy. “I’d call her, along with Noctus Cochlear, the ‘Ignoble.’”

“You don’t know Sophia!” shouted the writhing captive Magus with eyes now bloodshot. “A Level 2 failure like you will never stand a chance against her!”

Sitri looked into his eyes with an icy gaze and said, “I won’t lose. It’s my fault that I failed to apprehend her before. For the sake of every person in the capital, I swear on my honor that I will one day lock her up in the great prison of South Isteria.” Her resolve made the captive Magus quiver.

Talia was watching her with concern.

And Gark started, “Sitri—”

“I’m not bothered by it,” said Sitri as a sad smile crossed her face. “Like I said, I was to blame too.”

***

“I love you, Krai Baby!”

Why am I always so whipped by her?

I was walking down the street at night. Liz was clinging to my right arm, and Tino was despondently following behind me to my left.

Outside the gates of the capital, there was only darkness. Even a sky full of stars didn’t improve our visibility much. Leaving the city with barely any mana left in my Relics was practically suicide, but there was nothing I could do about it now.

Liz alone shone brightly with excitement. “Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! We have to get there before Siddy dies!”

“She’s not going to die...” I said. That would be a shit show.

I’m so sorry, Sitri, I silently apologized. I promised I wouldn’t let Liz run free-range, but now... At least I’ll keep an eye on her...okay? Please forgive me.

Tired of it all, I kept trudging along, one foot in front of the other, towards White Wolf’s Den. I shuddered at the thought that we were heading into that dense forest now.

I was going to barf.

Tino tugged me on my left sleeve. “Master, um...” she said with hesitation, “it may be dangerous for me in the dark... May I take your other hand...?”

What? Does Tino think Liz and I are holding hands? She’s only annoyingly hanging on to my arm.

My night vision sucked, so I couldn’t even see right in front of me. I’d almost tripped several times already on the way here, and all that was without me pretending to lead Tino by her hand.

How useless am I?!

Just to mitigate how pathetic I felt, I activated Owl’s Eye. I’d been trying to conserve the last bit of charge on it, but who cared now that I could see in the dark like the sun was up.

No other creature stirred in the expansive field before me, as if every living thing knew to hide and wait until morning.

Picking up on Tino’s request, Liz said with a threatening tone, “The fuck did you say, Tino?”

“No, Liz,” I interjected.

“She’s not gonna hold your hand in a million light-years, Krai Baby. Dream on and focus on guarding him!” snarled Liz.

“Uh, ‘light-year’ is a measure of distance, Liz, not time. And can you let go of me now? I don’t want us to all trip and fall.”

Liz grumbled as she finally let go of me. My march was finally a little easier.

With barely any Relics at my disposal, Liz and Tino were my only lifelines tonight. Looking back, I should’ve just bitten the bullet and had my Relics charged at one of the charging services in the city. Of course, that would’ve only elevated me from a useless idiot to a useless idiot buried in a pile of Relics, but at least I wouldn’t have to die wondering What if?

The only usable Relics on me right now were a few Safety Rings, Shooting Rings, and the ace up my sleeve that Lucia had charged for me. I ended up not having to use that when I last ventured into White Wolf’s Den. Though even the best chefs were useless without ingredients, and I was far from the best of anything.

I was doomed.

Cheeks blushing, Liz jubilantly said, “Don’t worry, I’ll slaughter everything in our path for you!”

Slaughter? Oh, wow, Liz. You shouldn’t have... Clearly, Liz and I had a tragic incongruence in the definition of a bodyguard. Man, I wish Ansem was here instead.

“Master...I will protect you...so...” muttered Tino, eager to make up for my incompetence, “can you tell me...what to expect?”

Why’s she asking me? How should I know? Well, Sitri’s very good at her job. With how long I’ve dragged this out, there may be nothing left for her to protect me from by the time we make it there—that would be nice.

“I dunno,” I said.

“T, what’s the fun in asking what will be there?! Your job is to protect Krai Baby no matter what shows up! Krai Baby hates spoilers anyway.”

“Y-Yes, Lizzy...”

The night air was chilling me to the bone.

I’ll make an appearance and get this over with. Then I can go home.