Undead Vol III.pt1

Chapter 1: A Peculiar Man

“Oh...? How very rare, to chance upon another person in these depths.” The man had a surprised expression on his face and spoke in a relatively

non-threatening way, as if to declare he wasn’t a dangerous individual by any means. Upon closer inspection, he hardly looked like someone who bore me ill will. He didn’t seem like an adventurer of questionable morals, specifically the kind who wouldn’t hesitate to prey on their fellow adventurers.

I still kept my guard up, for there was no way of knowing if my observations held water. At the very least, we should have a conversation.

“I am... Surprised, as well. After all... No sane individual... Would wander. Into the depths of the... Swamp of Tarasque.”

The man smiled at my response.

“It is almost as if you claim you are not very sane yourself, kind sir. I do beg to differ, though, as I am very much in control of mine own faculties. In no small part to these—I assume you are similarly equipped?”

The man held up what appeared to be a magical tool, one for nullifying

the poison, if I had to guess. In addition, he was also armed with several vials of actual holy water, purchased from an established church, no doubt. In his other hand was a high-quality, well-annotated map of the swamp. Compared to myself, who charged into the swamp with nothing more than my unique constitution as my defense against the elements, this man seemed much more prepared.

A seemingly true explorer of the Swamp of Tarasque.

I lowered my head slightly at his words. I was hardly as prepared as he was, though that wasn’t a fact I had to disclose.

My circumstances were quite different: my Undead constitution staved off the poison, and my divinity had gotten me out of a tight bind with a Tarasque. But I didn’t explain this to the man.

I simply couldn’t.

I only nodded, somewhat halfheartedly. “...It is, as you say.”

“I see! As expected of one who challenges the swamp. On another note...are you here for Dragon Blood Blossoms as well?”

“...Yes. You are after... The same? It is a good thing, that. We do not need to fight over... The flowers. To think another adventurer... Would arrive at the same time as myself.”

Honestly speaking, few adventurers were capable of making it to this point. Even if they were skilled, purchasing the adequate equipment required a fair sum of coin. In addition, the typical adventurer wasn’t partial to exposing themselves to potent poisons on a regular basis. If an adventurer

were truly skilled enough to trek through the Swamp of Tarasque, they would instead be exploring the labyrinth depths, and making good coin in the process.

If one desired a Dragon Blood Blossom, however, this was the only place to go. Even so, few dared venture this far into the swamp.

Raising my head to look at the man again, I couldn’t help but notice his beauty. His skin was pale, almost like it had never been touched by the sun. There was a certain coldness to his features, accompanied by an almost unfeeling gaze. His face was framed by long tresses of silver hair, hosting the very look of a noble.

At his waist was a rapier, and on one of his arms a well-made, lightweight metallic shield. For one reason or another, I couldn’t shake the notion that the man’s equipment was decorative more than useful. If anything, finer clothes suited this man; in fact, he would look at home in finery and formal dress alone, sword and shield be damned.

The contrast between the dreary swamp and the finery of this man couldn’t be more striking. It wouldn’t be strange if he had ventured into the swamp for the express purpose of picking these flowers.

“Ah, you see...” the man continued, “I am not an adventurer.” “...Is that right?”

“Verily so. How should I describe it... I am something akin to a butler, serving a certain esteemed individual. My master desires Dragon Blood Blossoms on a regular basis, hence my trips here.”

Unless I misheard the man, he was a butler, on orders from his master to gather Dragon Blood Blossoms. What a wonderful master-servant relationship, given the dangers involved.

Turning toward the black mouse perched on my shoulder, I grunted, then turned back to face the man.

Edel... This mouse would never do anything of the sort for me.

Making a mental note not to expect much of anything from my familiar, I posed a question to the man: “...Forgive my. Bluntness. Is your master... Unwell?”

“Ah, yes. I suppose you could say so. Recently, even getting up has been quite the chore... Frankly speaking, I should be at my master’s side right now, not out here picking flowers. Even so, it is undeniable that my master

requires Dragon Blood Blossoms. While the extract could be easily made into a potent medicine, my master has developed quite the taste for...freshly- pressed flowers, if I may say so. Speaking of...would you happen to know of any methods to preserve freshly-extracted Dragon-Flower Blood? Perhaps

you might have such knowledge, given that you are an adventurer...?” the man asked, somewhat inquisitively.

While a Dragon Blood Blossom could be processed into medication, freshly-extracted Dragon-Flower Blood was much more potent. While I

didn’t know the specifics as well as an herbalist would, I understood Dragon- Flower Blood degraded in a few days’ time and had to be used within that time frame. If one required a regular supply for any reason, one had no real choice other than visiting the swamp repeatedly.

For the average person, this would be an impossible feat, requiring a great amount of resources and hard work. While a magical tool would remain potent and functional once purchased and adequately maintained, holy water was another matter. Given that a single bottle deprived the purchaser of a few gold coins, the protection it offered from the swamp was proven.

While I had never given it much thought until now, the monopoly that churches had over the supply of holy water almost seemed illegal.

Regardless, I had no idea how to preserve Dragon-Flower Blood. While I learned many tricks and skills from my short tenure as an herbalist’s apprentice, what the man was asking for was clearly beyond me. Even if such a method did exist, it was likely still undiscovered.

“...No. If I did know... Such a method. I would... Stop adventuring and. Become an herbalist.”

Such was my answer. A flat-out lie, given the fact that I had to become a

Mithril-class adventurer. If I did discover such a method, I wouldn’t stop

adventuring; even so, the man before me didn’t need to know this, either. I was, however, telling the truth when it came to not knowing very much on the specifics of preserving Dragon-Flower Blood.

The man, as if expecting such a response, merely smiled. “I suppose so, yes,” he said, in a well-practiced manner.

“I... Apologize. For being unable to help.”

The man’s expression softened upon hearing my apology, an equally apologetic look tinting his features. “No, no. Please, do not worry of it. In fact, I should apologize for expecting so much from someone I have only just met. Think of it more as a casual question, good sir. Do not trouble yourself over it.”

The man seemed genuinely apologetic.

“Thank you for... Your concern.” I decided to offer some pleasantries of my own. “I am... Not. In the business of... Disappointing people I have just met. I would be glad... To help. If there is something I could... Do, however.”

The man seemed taken aback at my words, and he paused momentarily as if in deep thought. “Is that right...? In that case...even if you do not bear the knowledge I seek, perhaps it is fortunate that I made your acquaintance on this day. My master would certainly feel that way.”

I tilted my head, not exactly understanding the man’s statement.

“Ah, I do apologize. I occasionally get lost in mine own thoughts. I refer to what you mentioned prior, if there was anything you could do to help.”

“I did say... That. Yes.”

“To tell the truth, we have been searching for a reliable party to bring us Dragon Blood Blossoms at regular intervals. The search is not progressing well, of course...”

“Hoh...?”

I suppose that would be the case. If the adventurer in question was of a high rank, it wouldn’t be in their best interests to continually expose themselves to the Swamp of Tarasque. Even if the rewards were grand, or in some cases of questionable legality, most adventurers would refuse such a request if there were no good reasons behind it.

This was why that orphanage girl, Alize, was so troubled. If the details of the request weren’t so difficult, someone would have surely aided her with it, given the client was an orphanage.

A sudden thought flashed across my mind—

“...I see. By reliable party... Do you mean. Me?”

“Quite so. I do apologize for the reckless nature of this request. We will, of course, submit a formal series of requests via the guild, and arrange for an agreeable set of contracts and rewards. If you will accept, I would be most indebted... Please do forgive me for asking after all this time, but you are an adventurer, yes?”

It was almost like he already knew I was an adventurer. I supposed I

should introduce myself, then.

I told the man my name and adventurer rank: “Yes. I am a Bronze-Class... Adventurer. Rentt... Vivie. I am here because of... A request. I picked up.”

Yet another surprised expression crossed the man’s features. I understood the reason for this: my adventurer rank, if nothing else.

“...I would not have thought you would be a Bronze-class adventurer...”

the man continued.

“Are you less... Eager. To entrust me with the... Task, now?”

The man shook his head. “No, nothing of the sort. I was indeed surprised at your rank, but that was all. The fact that you stand before me uninjured is a testament to your skill. I would be honored if you would accept our request,

or at least consider it, good sir.” “...You are a strange. One.”

The average person wouldn’t think much of entrusting a Bronze-class adventurer with such a task. But the man hardly seemed bothered by my rank. I suppose he was more concerned with my actual abilities.

Personally, I didn’t know if I was up to the task, but the fact that someone else felt that way brought some joy to my heart.

The man, as if remembering something important, continued on. “Ah, yes... How careless of me. My name is Isaac Hart. Do feel free to call me Isaac. I would introduce you to my master...but of course, only after the formal proceedings are in place.”

.

◆◇◆◇◆

Although I ended up having quite a discussion with Isaac, the Swamp of Tarasque was hardly a place for such lengthy conversations. Now we both knew we had reliable means to combat the swamp’s poison; we hardly would have stayed to talk otherwise. Even if one was impervious to the poison, the same could not be said for one’s possessions. The best equipment could be corroded by unnecessary exposure to the swamp. Isaac, however, seemed to have noticed this before I raised my concerns on the matter.

“It would seem like our discussion has gone on for some time. I do apologize. I must return soon, with flowers of my own, of course. By your leave, good sir,” Isaac said, bowing his head slightly as he ended the conversation.

I suppose we both had to get going relatively soon.

“...Yes.” I nodded in response. “About the request... I will await contact. From the guild. Is that... Acceptable?”

“Yes, that is fine. We will be formally requesting you through the guild; good of them to contact you on our behalf. Even so...I hardly think anyone would accept this request—other than you, that is,” Isaac said, a wry smile flitting across his face.

That much was true; one would be hard-pressed to find an adventurer who was willing to enter the swamp in the first place, much less at regular

intervals for the purposes of flower-picking. Enough coin would send one skilled adventurer on a single trip, but there were some things even money couldn’t readily buy.

Few adventurers would be convinced to ruin their health in this fashion; an adventurer’s body was their greatest asset, after all. Even if the profits were great, a sick adventurer would eventually become a hungry one.

I was an outlier, being unaffected by the swamp’s effects in general. I suppose it also goes without saying that individuals like me were exceedingly rare.

I nodded, before giving Isaac a quick wave of farewell. Waving back, Isaac seemed somewhat pleased by the outcome of our conversation. He also seemed pleased enough to throw something in my general direction.

I caught the item with a free hand. “...A bottle of holy... Water?”

Isaac offered an explanation as I tilted my head, confused.

“Please, do use it if you would like. It seemed like you did not have any on your person,” Isaac said, somewhat concerned.

How did he know this? Curious, I asked Isaac for an explanation. “Why do you... Think so?”

“Holy water has a particular smell to it, you see. Nonetheless, it would seem like you possess other methods of protection. While this is a walled garden protected by the Dragon Blood Blossoms, I sense something even more pure on your very person.”

The Swamp of Tarasque was many things, but it was also a place that smelled...adequately terrible. Between the poison in the air and the muck on the ground, this much was understood.

This garden of crimson blossoms also had a stench of its own, namely, the overwhelming fragrance of the Dragon Blood Blossoms themselves. Maybe

it was the fact that these flowers purified the poison and miasma, or perhaps they smelled this way for some other reason altogether.

Either way, one would be hard-pressed to smell anything in this garden, let alone the alleged smell of holy water.

While holy water did have a unique smell to it, its fragrance would eventually diffuse into the air with time, much like perfume. In fact, one only had to walk past a priest or a healer of the Church in a town to smell such a fragrance. Could this man really discern such a faint smell here, amidst the stench of the swamp and the thick fragrance of the blossoms? Or perhaps he was confident in his sense of smell...?

No, there has to be more to this.

He mentioned he could “sense something even more pure.” My divine aura, I suppose?

There was also the fact that he had ventured into the Swamp of Tarasque alone. Maybe there was more to this man than I thought, skills and appearances aside.

“...I see you have... A good eye. I am able... To use divinity, you see.” It wasn’t something I had to hide. While few humans had the ability to

channel divinity, such individuals did exist. After all, I hadn’t even run into Sister Lillian, who had taken care of the orphanage all her life, on the streets of Maalt.

Having reserves of divinity within oneself wasn’t something worth

fussing over, nor was it worth hiding, especially before someone who had already noticed me utilizing it.

With this, I could safely assume Isaac possessed honed senses, and for some reason I felt like I could trust him. At least, when it came to not carelessly disclosing information.

As if agreeing with my assessment, Isaac nodded. “As I suspected, good sir. Well, then...was the holy water an unnecessary gesture?”

“... No. In fact, I am... Grateful. Although I made it here... In one piece. I was having doubts... About the return trip. I am thankful... You have aided me with such... A blessing.”

“Is that so? I am glad I was of assistance.”

“...But. Is this really all right...? This is quite... An expensive item. I can tell from the... Bottle alone. In fact... It is a top-grade... Bottle of holy water... Blessed. By the Church of Lobelia.”

The Church of Lobelia... This church in particular didn’t have much of a presence in Yaaran, but it wielded immense power and clout in the great kingdoms to the west. While they did have a church established in Maalt, its congregation was relatively small.

Despite its size and lack of presence in Maalt, however, they did sell high- grade holy water, albeit at a price that bucked all market trends of whatever location they had set themselves up in.

To be precise, the bottles weren’t exactly sold so much as they were rewarded to those who showed great faith...and also to those who donated large sums of coin to the church. A transaction in some ways, but at the same time not quite an outright sale. The higher the donation, the more potent the grade of the holy water. Higher grades of holy water, in turn, were housed in increasingly ornate bottles. Even holy water had different grades to it: although basic holy water could be sold by various churches, high-quality bottles could only be made by churches that possessed the means to produce them.

Various factors determined a bottle of holy water’s grade: the duration of its effect, its density, fragrance, transparency... Variations in each of these factors could greatly alter the value of a bottle. The Church of Lobelia’s top- grade bottles, on the other hand, were in a class of their own. A single drop from these bottles had as much potency as an entire bottle’s worth of lower- grade holy water from other institutions. Under normal circumstances, one

wouldn’t give such a bottle to a stranger casually.

But Isaac just shook his head.

“Would you not need it later? I simply thought it made sense to hand it to you here and now.”

Isaac’s statement struck me as slightly odd; I hadn’t even agreed to the request at hand yet. Was he acting on the assumption that I would do so?

Even so...

“Did you not think... I could simply run off with... This bottle. Without accepting your... Request?”

“If that does happen, good sir, well, then that is that. I suppose I would have been a bad judge of character in that case. In addition, neither my master nor myself are in dire financial straits, so to speak.”

It would appear Isaac and his master have enough coin to throw around, seeing as they were wealthy enough to be offering top-grade bottles of Lobelia holy water to strangers.

I was somewhat envious of their finances, though I suppose this was why they had issues finding someone to fulfill their request in the first place. Now, if an adventurer was offered aid here and now, the chances of them accepting such a request would increase.

As expected, even I found it difficult to refuse, especially after Isaac’s gesture of charity. I hadn’t even begun to consider refusing.

“In that case... I shall gladly. Accept... Well, then... Until next time.” “Yes. Do be careful on your way back.”

Isaac and I parted ways.

Nothing of note occurred as I retraced my steps. Given that I could now avoid the Tarasques with Isaac’s gift of holy water, I suppose this much was to be expected.

The other denizens of the swamp weren’t much of a threat to me, either— so long as I didn’t fall into the water again, that is. Even the Goblins kept their distance. Some Goblins escaped the moment they saw me; perhaps a

few had escaped their encounters with me. They were mostly Goblin Archers who mainly shot at their enemies from a distance. It wasn’t strange to see them running when faced with one such as myself.

Given how much I intimidated them, I would be hard-pressed to fulfill any Goblin-slaying requests in the swamp, should I ever receive them in the

future.

Yet...Goblins didn’t have a very good memory; they probably would have all but forgotten about me in a little over a week.

I couldn’t help but feel like Goblins were creatures who lived in and for the moment. This wasn’t a critique against their character, however. Living this way probably had its merits. Those of them who had built villages and lived alongside humans probably didn’t think very highly of such a lifestyle

—but that was a question for another time.

Maybe I would make it a point to ask a friendly Goblin about that, sometime in the future. I would have to learn how to speak Goblin, though...

Thinking so, I found myself finally out of the Swamp of Tarasque.

Climbing the steps, I emerged on the main road, waiting for the horse- carriage that had brought me here earlier in the day. After waiting for a while, the familiar sound of carriage wheels resounded in the distance. Closing in, the coachman hopped off, staring at me with a mixture of surprise and wonderment.

“So, you’re still very much alive, huh...? I’m s’prised. You’re pretty good!”

“Actually... I am already a Mythril-class... Adventurer. This mask... Is just to keep... My movements hidden. From the world.”

A silly response, and a funny one. The coachman laughed.

“Ha! Look’it’chu, quite the joker ’spite how ya look! Lemme know if ya want me to bring ya here again. I’ll give ya a discount!”

Heartily agreeing, I hopped into the carriage. The horses were soon off, bound for the familiar township of Maalt.

◆◇◆◇◆

The first thing I did upon returning to Maalt was report my findings to the guild—and so off to the guild I went.

While I wanted to make my way to the orphanage and deliver the Dragon Blood Blossoms right away, I had something else that required my immediate attention: the carcass of the Tarasque I had slain.

I wanted to cure Sister Lillian’s illness as soon as possible, but she wasn’t in danger of immediately losing her life. As long as I handed some materials

over to the local herbalist and picked up the relevant medication tomorrow, I

suppose having her wait a single day was acceptable.

Entering the guild, I immediately made my way to Sheila; as usual, she was standing behind the receptionist’s counter. Sheila knew of my circumstances, and she often assisted me with guild business.

“Oh, Rentt...! Were you looking for something specific today? Wait... Don’t tell me—you are already back from the swamp?”

Even Sheila wasn’t expecting me to return so quickly. This was to be expected, given she knew of my prowess, or lack thereof, in life. I had also cleared most of the Bronze-class ranking progression exam with prior knowledge, as opposed to relying on individual skill.

Exploring a place like the Swamp of Tarasque, however, was a league of its own. A lack of skill would easily result in one’s death.

Due to neither Lorraine nor myself giving Sheila a complete briefing of my capabilities, I suppose her reaction was, for the most part, normal.

“Yes. I have retrieved... The requested Dragon Blood... Blossoms. I intend to... Deliver. The flowers to the orphanage... Soon. And have the client... Sign off on my request.”

“I’m surprised, Rentt. To think you would finish the job so quickly... I thought your hard work only bore fruit when you went Orc-hunting, but this is something else altogether. You have gotten strong, Rentt.”

“...Is that right. Personally... I am not. So sure.”

Those were my honest thoughts; I was by no means fishing for praise. Sheila was right, I was stronger than I used to be. That was a fact I

couldn’t argue against.

Have I truly become stronger in all senses of the word, though? Was I more skilled, more capable? Somehow, that didn’t feel quite right. I couldn’t help but feel I had only obtained this strength due to my monstrous constitution. No matter what I did, I couldn’t shake the thought.

I wasn’t disgusted with what I had become, yet I felt a deep fear in my mind: the fear of losing this newfound strength if I should one day become human again.

Will I be able to live with that fact?

I had obtained some strength in return for my efforts, but would restoring my humanity cause that to fade? If I did return to my previously powerless self, my goal of becoming a Mithril-class adventurer would be all but

impossible. Would that break my will, if not my very sense of self?

That was what I feared.

But of course, I suppose I would just continue trudging stubbornly toward my goal regardless of what would happen in the future. There was no way I could predict how I would feel if this hypothetical scenario came to pass. I suppose this was the proverbial fear of the unknown.

In any case, it was pointless counting my chickens before they had even hatched. I gave those thoughts a rest, turning to Sheila once more.

“If you can venture in and out of the Swamp of Tarasque on your own unharmed, you’re more or less already Silver-class in terms of capability, Rentt! You would do well to remember that!”

I could only stand there and nod sheepishly as I accepted Sheila’s encouragement without a word of protest.

Even if I would one day lose this power, it was now unmistakably present, and unmistakably mine. It was important to have an accurate measure of my own strength; acknowledging one’s skills was as important as actually having them, after all.

“I understand, Sheila. On another... Note. I have a request... Of my own.” “Ah, yes, that. Since you are not turning in the request yet... Would it be

the sale of materials?”

As expected of Sheila and her five years’ worth of experience, I didn’t even have to explain what I needed.

“Yes.” I nodded in response. “However, some... Processing. Is required. A

regular dissection room... Would be... Impractical. For the task.”

“I see. You bagged something big, I guess? Well, you did rent quite a high-capacity bag, Rentt.”

“Yes. It is... Relatively. Large.”

If it was a matter of size, I could have dropped the carcass off right here, but there were other adventurers within earshot, and I didn’t want to be piled with strange offers and requests after the fact.

Sheila nodded, understanding my intent. “In that case...you could make use of the dissection chamber in the back. I’ll lead you there.”

Sheila approached one of her colleagues to replace her spot at the counter before packing up some documents and walking off. I followed close behind.

◆◇◆◇◆

A few dissection rooms existed at the guild, but they were relatively simple and small, if only because most adventurers tended to deliver pre- dissected items, or just the specifically requested part of a client’s order. If an adventurer had to work on a significantly larger carcass, they were led to a dissection chamber located in a building at the back of the guild halls.

Most adventurers sought the services of the dissection specialists who worked here, most of whom were former adventurers. Due to their histories of being former adventurers or butchers, these individuals possessed highly detailed knowledge regarding dissection techniques. It wasn’t uncommon for

adventurers to pay them for more complicated tasks, or if the adventurers had multiple carcasses to process.

While I was considerably skilled in the art of dissection among my peers, having had many opportunities to practice back in my home village, dissecting a Tarasque was another story. Due to the sheer size, armored scales, and poisonous nature of the carcass, I had no choice but to bring it to this chamber. While poisons did not affect me in any way, dissecting a Tarasque in the street would cause its bodily fluids to flow into the ground, eventually polluting the town’s groundwater system. I, for one, did not wish to be responsible for a mass-poisoning incident. Luckily, this chamber housed the necessary infrastructure to ensure this didn’t happen.

“Dario! Mister Dario!”

Stepping into the entrance of the large building, Sheila took a deep breath, shouting out the name of the specialist we were here to see.

Due to its nature, the dissection chamber was a large building; if Sheila hadn’t shouted, no one would have heard her. But there was no response. Undaunted, Sheila continued shouting.

“Yeah! Yeah, I hear ya! Hold on!” A gruff response in a gravelly voice answered Sheila’s call.

Soon after, a seemingly indomitable man stood before us. This person was none other than Dario Costa, the guild’s head dissection specialist. I had met him several times in life, but Dario didn’t recognize me as I was now, which was to be expected.

“My bad! Didn’t want ya waitin’... We just got tons of Orc carcasses in the morn. Short-staffed as usual! Gotta love Orc meat, though... Worth its weight in gold, anywhere ya go.”

It would seem like Dario was done with his Orcish dissection.

While such occurrences were rare, capable individuals or groups might eventually transport a large amount of carcasses into the guild. Such parties were handsomely compensated by the butchers who sold Orcish meat, with said butchers issuing the requests in the first place. I suppose we were now in the middle of Orc season for this to be the case.

With my Dragon Blood Blossom request fulfilled, it would do me well to keep an eye open for other, more lucrative requests. I would hate to miss any valuable hunting opportunities.

If only Orcs lived in the Swamp of Tarasque... But if they really did live there, the Tarasques would just have them for dinner. Orcs were quite delicious to both man and beast. Maybe one would pity the Orcs for being eaten by just about everything, but such was the way of life in these lands.

Leaving me and my thoughts behind, Sheila walked up to Dario, briefing him on the specifics of my request.

“I do apologize for disturbing you at a busy time, Mister Dario...but I promise this is worth your time. Rentt over here has brought you a considerably rare carcass to work on today!”

I had informed Sheila of what I hunted on the way here, hence her description of my harvest. Dario, however, didn’t seem very convinced. “A rare carcass? Young lady, I don’t get s’prised often, y’know?”

Sheila continued on, and Dario’s eyes opened wide in response.

“Rentt has brought you a Tarasque. An entire Tarasque full of materials, fresh from the swamp. It has to be dissected, of course.”

◆◇◆◇◆

“A Tarasque...?! You’re pullin’ my leg, Sheila.”

I could understand Dario’s suspicion. Tarasques were strong monsters that only lived in an extremely inhospitable environment, and were also armed to the teeth with a potent venom. One would have to be an adventurer of Silver- class or above to reliably slay it. I was an exception, I suppose, what with my immunity to poisons and all that.

As a matter of fact, due to my unique circumstances, the only real challenge the swamp posed to me was that it slightly slowed down my movements. A normal adventurer would have gotten poisoned to death without the adequate equipment.

I couldn’t tell Dario about my undead nature, so I held my peace. Sheila spoke up in my stead.

“Oh, come on now, Mister Dario. Why would someone waste your time like that? It is really true! Maybe you would believe it after seeing it with your own eyes...?”

“But where be this Tarasque, Sheila...? Did he leave it out front?”

It was a question with merit, at least, as some adventurers had a habit of leaving the carcasses of large monsters they had slain outside the chamber as a show of strength.

They were commonly loaded on giant wheeled carts and the like, however. Such carcasses would often be paraded around the streets of Maalt before stopping at the gates of the guild, after which they would be transported to the chamber for dissection.

This can be seen as a form of advertising: given that the adventurer in question had slain such a large beast, they would have rare materials for sale, and that was primarily the goal of such a venture.

But I didn’t wish to stand out.

Though I drew some eyes in my direction when I was promoted to Bronze-class shortly after registering as an adventurer, Bronze-class adventurers weren’t rare. If one had the required skills, one could easily make it to Bronze-class in such a short time, just like I did.

In response to Dario’s question, I pointed to the magical bag on my tool belt. “It is... Inside this bag. Should I... Set the carcass down here?”

“No.” Dario shook his head. “That’s no good. If it’s really a Tarasque, that is. Come.”

Dario gestured as he turned, leading us to the central area of the dissection chamber.

Soon after, we followed Dario into a relatively wide, purpose-built room, one that was more than large enough for a Tarasque carcass. A complicated series of magical tools lined the walls—implements for containing poisonous fumes during a carcass cleansing prior to dissection.

These tools were highly specialized equipment, and they were a requirement for most established dissection chambers. But they were very expensive, and there couldn’t possibly be more than two of such rooms in the entire building.

“Well, here we are. Lessee it.”

Turning a crank, Dario raised a platform in the center of the venue, gesturing for me to unload the carcass there. He also supplied Sheila and me with safety masks as precautions against the poison. Since I already had a mask on, I looked ridiculous, but I suppose this much had to be done for appearance’s sake.

Affirming Sheila and Dario had safely equipped their masks, I opened the bag, preparing to unload the carcass. Just like how I had attached the mouth of the bag to the carcass when bagging it for transport, I did the same here, aligning the bag’s opening to the central platform. If one made a mistake while sucking in an item, they would be faced with great difficulty when getting it out. Luckily for me, I had plenty of experiences with this sort of

magical tool in life. This bag was significantly bigger, but they fundamentally worked in similar fashions.

“I see you weren’t pullin’ my leg... She’s a big’un, even for a Tarasque,” Dario said, examining the carcass as he spoke.

The carcass had been neatly unloaded on the room’s central platform, severed neck, body, and all. Taking a good look at its armored shell, Dario ran his fingers along its surface, nodding in approval.

“Not a single scratch, eh? Don’t see that often.”

I was a Bronze-class adventurer, so to Dario, this meant my knowledge and experience of Tarasque-hunting should be relatively low. To slay a Tarasque, one had to chop off its neck, or smash through its armor and crush its heart. The former was the easier choice.

Even so, was an undamaged Tarasque shell really that rare? Curious, I asked Dario for an explanation.

“I get what you’re tryin’ to say. But see here... Doin’ that is problematic. The biggest problem’d be gettin’ close to the thing, poison breath and all that. So...if’n adventurer gets this close, they’d be exposed to the stuff. ’Course, Silver- ’n’ Gold-class fellers could buy magic tools to fend most of it off, but only those of the Platinum-class can afford a complete nullification.

S’pensive stuff, y’know. Since most folks don’t have that, they kill it from a distance, see.”

Dario’s explanation was easy to understand. While I was impervious to poisons, normal adventurers and parties would probably choose to attack a Tarasque with long-distance spells and projectiles.

“So it has a hard shell,” Dario continued. “But the scales are hard, too,

see. Both are equally difficult to cut through. Given the opportunity, most folks aim for the shell. Much bigger, yeah? A few strong attacks’ll break through the thing. Most adventurers who can slay Tarasques have a few tricks to do this. In that case, though, there’d be a hole in its shell. Y’show a broken shell to a dissection specialist, and y’just look at the reaction on their faces. What’re we supposed to do with that, huh?”

An attack from a Silver- or Gold-class adventurer could indeed penetrate its shell, but I suppose such a shell would be difficult to turn into functional armor. Armorers weren’t Goblins, though; even a cracked shell could be integrated into a suit of armor, as long as the crack had been strengthened and combined with other materials to achieve its former hardiness.

But of course, most armorers would indeed prefer a pristine shell. In other words...

“So this is... Worth. Quite a lot?”

Dario nodded. “What’s it look like? Course it’s worth a lot! Well... Takes quite a bit’a time to take the thing apart, so there’ll be some fees for that. But even so, this’s worth quite a lot of coin. Neck’s good, too. Only injury’s the neck itself. The poison glands seem intact... Been a while, y’know, since I’ve seen such a pristine Tarasque carcass.”

It would seem like Dario had given the remains his personal seal of approval.

“I see... In that case. I would like... To entrust you. With the task of selling... The shell.”

There were many ways an adventurer could deal with their spoils: some brought the relevant remains and left them for dissection here, before searching for an auction venue on their own time to put it up for sale. For those without the luxury of time, the dissection specialists could sell the harvested material on their behalf, albeit for a small fee.

Under normal circumstances, most adventurers left it all to the specialists. The entire process was too much work for the typical adventurer, who would instead commonly task a shop they were familiar with to sell the materials on their behalf. Rare materials, like the shell of a Tarasque, were often auctioned off at events.

In my case, a pristine Tarasque carcass would easily attract many potential buyers. Since I already entrusted the dissection of the body to Dario, I supposed I should just leave everything else to him.

“I don’t mind, but...really? Y’just have to look, y’know? Tons’a buyers out there.”

Dario was correct, but searching for buyers in my current state was a difficult, almost impossible task. I would have to interact, and continuously meet face-to-face, with potential buyers. It wasn’t something I looked forward to doing, at least not in this state.

Although I could task Lorraine with it, she wasn’t well-versed in the sales of rare monster parts, nor was she well-informed on their worth in the current market. If I were to sell it, I would at least like to sell it for a fair price, hence my request to Dario.

I turned to Dario, deciding to put my trust in the man. “...You have... My trust, Mister Dario. I am counting... On you.”

Dario chuckled at my overly-formal statement. “Ha! Now that’cha’ve put it that way...guess I gotta do a really good job, eh? I’ll get a good price for ya

—just wait ’n’ see.”

◆◇◆◇◆

Leaving the carcass and other dissectible materials behind, I went through my spoils, handing over what plant matter I had gathered to Sheila. Due to

the sheer amount of materials I had harvested, Sheila was unable to give me a quote for the items right away, but it should be quite the profit for my purposes.

The only thing left to do now was deliver the Dragon Blood Blossom to the orphanage, where Alize and Sister Lillian were awaiting my return. Though I suppose Sister Lillian wouldn’t exactly be waiting, as Alize had kept all this hidden from her, but that was neither here nor there.

Either way, my next destination was set. I stepped out of the guild hall, and headed toward the orphanage in question.

◆◇◆◇◆

Creak...

A truly dreadful sound. I paused, staring at the door knocker I had repaired with slime fluid on my previous trip here. It was, of course, broken, having come loose once again in my hand. While I did break it, I was also the

one who had repaired it. I suppose I had to fix it again. “Perfect...”

A singular voice interrupted me from behind. “What’s perfect now...?”

I was surprised—caught in the act!

Turning around, I came face-to-face with Alize, who was holding a paper bag full of what appeared to be food in her arms. Behind her, several older children of the orphanage stood, all hugging similar bags. It would seem like the children had just returned from a grocery trip of sorts.

Forcing myself to stay calm, I put on a cool façade to the orphans, turning around to greet them.

“Well... I was just. Reminiscing... About the request.”

Alize’s eyes opened wide. “Eh? What? Really? You must be joking!” Although surprised, the doorway was hardly a place for discussion.

Opening the door gingerly for Alize, who had her hands full, I took great care not to damage the fragile knocker, now once again appropriately glued in place.

◆◇◆◇◆

“Well, then...is it true? You’re done? It’s done?” Alize asked as I sat down in the cramped reception room where we had first met.

Alize looked more surprised than doubtful. I suppose I did wrap up the affair relatively quickly.

What Alize didn’t know was what my previous statement truly referred to: the unfortunate fate of the broken door knocker. The truth, of course, would remain concealed in the darkness forever, if I could help it.

Masking my embarrassment from that entire affair, I answered Alize in a flat tone of voice.

“Yes. Here... Have a look. Yourself.”

I withdrew a single stalk from my magical tool pouch and set the Dragon Blood Blossom down on the rickety wooden table between us. I laid out a spare piece of cloth for fear of dirtying the table, old and worn-out as it was. The flower now sat on its covered surface, wrapped roots and all.

Alize, however, didn’t seem to care very much about the state of the table at all. She was instead entirely taken with the flower, and was currently

gawking at it curiously.

“This...is it? It’s the first time I’ve seen one! What a pretty flower...” Maybe it was the flower’s beauty, rarity, or potency when used as

medication; whatever the reason, Alize seemed deeply moved by the plant before her.

But as Alize said, Dragon Blood Blossoms were quite beautiful. The flower never faced the sky with its crimson petals; instead, it drooped ever so slightly, with its broad leaves accentuating the blossom’s shape. Supporting the plant itself was a sturdy stem, a testament to the flower’s vigor and hardiness.

This quaint, yet almost miraculous balance was perhaps responsible for its popularity in proposals. If one didn’t have anyone to propose to, they would

at least be able to admire its beauty for what it was, or so I would assume. “Is this all right...?”

“I can’t say much,” Alize, seemingly still lost in thought, finally answered, looking up at me as she did so. “I don’t know if this is a real Dragon Blood Blossom or not... Ah. I don’t mean that I doubt you. It’s just that...I can’t tell! This is beyond me.”

“Did you not say... That you had an herbalist... Healer, friend? They were going to make... The medicine for Sister Lillian.”

“Yes, yes. I’ll go get both of them right now. You’d have to wait a bit—is that all right?” Alize asked, apparently intent on fetching the aforementioned healer and herbalist right away.

I, for one, would like my request form signed and returned as soon as possible, so summoning them would only accelerate the process. As such, I nodded at Alize.

With a quick nod of her own, Alize rushed out of the room in a great hurry, presumably on her way to both of their residences.

herbalists and healers in general were often found working for churches or medical institutions, most of which were a fair distance away from the orphanage. I supposed Alize wouldn’t be back for quite a while, which also meant that I now had spare time on my hands. Waiting for her return in and

of itself wasn’t a difficult task, but dealing with boredom in general, however, was a pain.

Just as I was about to resign myself to a boring wait, Edel, who had been slumped over on my shoulder all this time, suddenly flew off his perch,

landing neatly on the ground. Running off, Edel began scratching the walls of the room.

“...What. Are you doing, mouse?”

In response to my question, Edel looked up at the doorknob, before jumping onto it himself. While he landed with an impressive thud on the old doorknob, it wasn’t a type that responded to pressure, so the door resultingly did not open.

To think he had slammed into the Tarasque’s neck with such force... I suppose mice couldn’t easily open doors, given their physique. If anything, I found the sight somewhat amusing.

I wasn’t sure if I should open the door, but I also didn’t intend to confine Edel into this small reception room until Alize returned. As long as he didn’t enter any restricted areas, I supposed a little stroll wouldn’t hurt. Of course, if I received any complaints about my pet running wild, I would blame it entirely on the mouse himself. It technically wouldn’t be a lie.

While I did have my doubts from the moment Edel had requested me to deal with the door, any questions and internal monologues I had were simply answered with a glare from the mouse. I suppose he really did want out of this room.

I stood up, walking over to the door. Giving the doorknob a good turn, I pulled the door ajar, and with that, the mouse was off. I followed after him, curious as to where he was headed to. A somewhat predictable destination, perhaps, but I soon found myself in the basement storage room of the orphanage—the very same room where I had first met Edel.

Scampering to the middle of the room, Edel stood up on his hind feet, before promptly unleashing a high-pitched squeak into the damp, cold air. Almost immediately, no less than five Puchi Suri appeared from the shadows with immense speed, lining up before my familiar in a perfect line.

Haven’t I seen this somewhere before...?

I definitely recalled a similar scene of smaller Puchi Suri lining up before a larger one. In fact, these Puchi Suri looked familiar; I had seen these specific scar and fur patterns before. They did seem a little bigger, markedly so since the last time I had seen them.

As I continued to ponder upon the fur patterns of mice, Edel squeaked again, as if holding some sort of conversation with his compatriots. The vocalizations of the Puchi Suri were all squeaks, of course, so while these

sounds made little sense to most humans, I had the benefit of sharing a mental link with Edel. Slowly but surely, I began understanding the specifics of their conversation.

According to the many squeaking voices, the five Puchi Suri under Edel’s command had, as promised, continued to protect the basement storage. In the process of doing so, they had been attacked by other gangs of Puchi Suri,

who had wandered in from the streets of Maalt. Even so, they held their ground, eventually managing to protect the basement without any incursions. The reason for them being able to do this was because Edel had changed his compatriots slightly by infusing a small amount of mana and spirit into their bodies. In addition, these Puchi Suri were a little stronger than ones typically found in the streets to begin with, hence their victory.

In other words, they seemed close to an Existential Evolution of their own.

This point bothered me, though. In the first place, did that mana and spirit not belong to me? Edel’s powers were taken from none other than his master, Rentt Faina.

Edel, however, turned around, staring in my general direction before squeaking somewhat fiercely. It seemed like my familiar would like me to keep my thoughts to myself.

.

What an unreasonable mouse!

In fact, I was the master, and Edel the servant! But he apparently didn’t feel the same.

Due to the intensity of his squeak, I supposed I should leave him to his devices...for now. Plus, the conversation between Edel and his minions did prove somewhat useful to me. While they did defeat the Puchi Suri that tried to enter the basement, Edel’s minions had also subjugated them in the process. As such, they received information on all of Maalt’s buildings, roads, and hidden passageways, all through this elaborate urban-mouse network of theirs. Due to this newfound cooperation, the Puchi Suri living in this basement embraced a newfound age of prosperity, and were all able to live in peace. This was all because of their mouse-boss, Edel...

At least, this was what I understood.

I found myself at a loss for words... Although that was all well and good, the source of Edel’s powers was none other than me...

I really wanted to say it out loud, but alas, I could not. Even if I did, these other smaller mice didn’t understand human speech.

I also didn’t have the charisma that Edel possessed; a real pity.

My bout of self-pity was quickly interrupted by a surprising thought from Edel, however. Apparently, he could instruct his underlings to gather information for me if I so wished it. Due to their size, speed, and overall mundane nature, Puchi Suri could be found in many corners of Maalt. Although slaying one wasn’t difficult, the sheer speed at which they reproduced made extermination a relatively pointless venture. If I could use this to my advantage, and have this mouse network gather information from all across Maalt...

Everything in this town would be known to me.

To think I hadn’t even noticed it happening—I now had a network of tiny informants and spies at my hands.

This would be useful. Very useful indeed...

◆◇◆◇◆

“This... This is superb! Amazing! I have never seen such a well-preserved specimen!”

The person before me was none other than a certain Unbert Abeiyu, the

healer Alize had mentioned before. Accompanying him was the herbalist, Norman Hanel.

Unbert was a lanky, middle-aged man, while Norman was considerably younger, a plump young man in his late twenties. Judging by their demeanor and friendly smiles, I understood they had friendly affiliations with the orphanage.

“Is that right...? Only high-ranked... Adventurers. Would explore the Swamp... Of Tarasque, after all. One would think they... Would at least know. How to harvest and preserve... A Dragon Blood Blossom.”

The skill of an adventurer did increase proportionately with their rank. Higher-ranked adventurers commonly had more in the way of strength and power, and they would also usually pick up some other skills along the way, such as dissection and herb-picking techniques. Of course, one was also required to learn business etiquette, and to acquire general knowledge of the ways of the world. Although they weren’t expected to have the same amount of knowledge a professional would, adventurers were, at the very least, required to continue learning and polishing their core skills as they climbed through the ranks.

There were exceptions, of course. Individuals who only took on slaying requests would grow disproportionately in strength. Similarly, adventurers who managed to cheat or bluff their way through progressions tests would end up with somewhat stranger skillsets.

Taking all this into account, one would logically assume that any adventurer exploring the Swamp of Tarasque would at least be Silver- or Gold-class. Barring special cases like myself, they would be adequately skilled in all areas: combat, herb-harvesting, or otherwise.

“Not quite, not quite. Being the place it is, most adventurers are far too concerned about being poisoned to actually care about the flowers they are picking! In fact, most of them harvest the flowers carelessly, thinking all is well should they return with a sample. However, given the nature of the place...few adventurers would dare venture in, so we can’t exactly complain. In fact, locating an adventurer who is able to even venture inside is something to be thankful for!”

There was some truth in Norman’s words. Few adventurers would be willing to stay in the swamp for longer than they had to. Most adventurers who had the capability to do so would much rather be somewhere else; even

so, those who did enter were probably compensated well for their time. Volunteers like me were perhaps unheard of in this particular scenario.

An adventurer and their client were typically on equal footing, so sufficient compensation must be offered by the client to entice a capable adventurer into entering the swamp. Due to the complexities of the factors involved, the adventurer involved often had the upper hand in this discussion. In most cases, however, the opposite was true. While a balanced client- adventurer relationship was ideal, reality was quite different.

“I am glad... It turned out well, then.”

“Of course it turned out well!” Norman’s response was enthusiastic.

“With this perfectly-preserved Dragon Blood Blossom, creating a cure for the Accumulative Miasma Disease would be a simple affair! Because of its perfect condition, I would have a much easier time processing it, as well. In fact, I could make many other medicines, as well. If only we had more

Dragon Blood Blossoms...” Norman said, as if aware of the fact simply having one flower was a blessing in and of itself.

“How many... Do you need?”

“Eh...? Hmm. Let’s see. Well, three or four more stalks would be perfect. I would be able to distribute the extract evenly, and make many other medicines to heal the sick!” Norman said, more to himself than anyone else.

It didn’t seem like he was pleading with me to give him more flowers; I hadn’t even informed them of the fact that I had harvested multiple flowers. Norman was probably thinking of a hypothetical scenario in which many kind-hearted adventurers each brought back a flower.

He did not seem like the type to lie—as if affirming my thoughts, Alize leaned in, whispering into my ear.

“Doctor Norman helps out many poor people, not just the orphanage! He pays for the medicines out of pocket, you know? He’s a rare, good-hearted doctor! Scarce in these times!” Alize was apparently full of praise for the good Doctor Norman. It would seem like the doctor had her approval.

There was no mistaking that the doctor provided important support to Alize and the orphanage, but herbalists in general required quite some capital to operate. Medicine wasn’t exactly free, as the adequate materials had to be gathered. This was just the nature of the job. As such, most herbalists had little choice but to sell their wares at somewhat higher prices, if only so they could continue operating.

Even so... To think the doctor paid out of his own pocket to help the sick. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of worry. If anything did happen to Doctor Norman, the orphanage would surely be negatively impacted.

At least, Alize would think that way. Realistically speaking, however, the doctor must have some way of his own to keep his business running. As to what these reasons were, I wasn’t entirely sure, but I supposed this small contribution wouldn’t hurt.

I reached into my magical pouch, deciding to contribute some more flowers from my stock. A few more stalks wasn’t exactly a terrible loss, and they were for a good cause.

“Here... Take these.”

I fished out four more Dragon Blood Blossoms, setting them on the table. Both Norman and Unbert’s eyes opened impossibly wide at the sight. I suppose they didn’t think a solo adventurer would have the capability to harvest this many flowers by his lonesome.

Dragon Blood Blossoms grew in large clusters to begin with, but these two gentlemen hardly knew that, just like how most non-adventurers didn’t know of the bottomless nature of magical pouches. I saved up for five years to purchase this pouch—a worthwhile investment. Even a Silver-class

adventurer would have to save up for at least one year; not an easy feat, given that most adventurers were unapologetic spendthrifts. To make things worse, these magical tools weren’t readily available off the shelf; one had to first

find them in public auctions, or even the black market.

Due to my many social connections and informants, I was able to purchase a high-capacity bag, whereas most adventurers usually ended up with a bag half the size of mine. Smaller bags hardly had much space left over after the usual supplies, rations, and containers were dealt with.

Of course, one could form parties to transport more items as a result. This didn’t work as well when exploring the Swamp of Tarasque, though, primarily due to anti-poison equipment typically taking up a fair amount of space. This was why most adventurers usually returned with only a single Dragon Blood Blossom.

In my case, I had rented a high-capacity bag from the guild, and I had a fair amount of space left over since I didn’t need any protection against poisons.

I suppose this body of mine had its uses. A strange emotion floated up

from the depths of my mind: while I wanted to one day return to being human, would I lose my resistance to poison if I did so? Perhaps it was greedy for me to have such thoughts, but then again, humans were greedy creatures by default. Once they obtained something, they would, without fail, desire more.

Interrupting my train of thoughts was Edel, perched silently on my shoulder. He apparently wished to announce that he had little in the way of greedy thoughts, but I suppose a mouse would feel that way. In response, Edel tightened his grip on my shoulder.

Yes, yes, mouse. I apologize.

In any case, I turned my attention back to the two medical professionals before me, both of whom were still frozen in place at the sight of the flowers on the table. Norman was the first to react.

“Is... Is it really? You would sell these flowers to us? But...if you have so many, Mister Rentt, would it not make more sense for you to sell it to a larger apothecary...?”

It would seem like Norman was unable to pay for these flowers. He didn’t request this many to begin with, so maybe that was to be expected.

“No.” I shook my head slowly. “I am... Giving. These flowers to you. For free ... As a sign of appreciation. For your just... And noble intent. Do not... Worry. I have more in the... Bag.”

I didn’t want Norman to owe me any favors, for I simply felt like engaging in an act of occasional charity. I was simply appeasing myself— nothing more, nothing less.

I didn’t harvest these extra flowers in the hopes of selling them off at a high price; I simply wished to help any acquaintances who happened to be in need, so giving these flowers away wasn’t much of a problem. Doctor Norman, of all people, would be able to use these ingredients for a good cause. It was good to have connections with a skilled herbalist, and aiding Doctor Norman would be the start of a beneficial relationship.

While Lorraine herself was capable of synthesizing medicines and the like, she mainly specialized in magical potions and solutions, so curing diseases would be outside her expertise. Doctor Norman, on the other hand, worked with the sick.

I personally trained under a herbalist in my youth, and was more capable at the subject than the typical adventurer, but I couldn’t hope to come

anywhere close to an actual professional. It would be most beneficial to have Doctor Norman on my side. Not the best thing to say, but no one loses out in this transaction.

Finally calming down after his initial surprise at my words, Doctor

Norman composed himself before giving his response.

“My apologies. Yes, it would be a great help. Many, many lives can be saved with this... If there is anything, anything I can do at all, Mister Rentt, just say the word. At the very least, I have great confidence with regards to my knowledge of herbs and medicine—second to none in these lands, I’ll say!”

Such were the good doctor’s words of gratitude.

◆◇◆◇◆

“With this, the request is complete...” Alize said, signing the document on the table after Norman and Unbert had left the premises.

Since the official client listed wasn’t the orphanage, but the orphans in it, Alize’s signature carried enough weight to declare the request completed and closed.

With a flourish of the quill, the deed was done, and with this her request officially fulfilled. All that was left was to collect my reward from the guild.

It had been a far more challenging request than my usual tasks, and completing it left a deep and somewhat profound emotion in my heart.

But of course...my reward was only one bronze piece.

“...Yes. Thank you. Alize,” I said, rolling up the signed document on the desk.

“No...it is I who should be saying that to you, Rentt. To tell the truth...putting the request up is one thing, but I had all but given up! Who would go pick a Dragon Blood Blossom for one bronze piece? But...you, Rentt. You accepted it, and you actually came back with it! I cannot thank you enough... Thank you, really... If there’s anything, anything at all, Rentt,

you tell us. The children and I will do everything we can to help you... Well, I

suppose you wouldn’t really be needing our help.”

“Even I... Need help. Sometimes. When that time comes... I will depend... On you. As the situation demands. Also... There were a few others. Other

than me, I mean... Who had thought. Of accepting the request. It was just... A

little too difficult. For most.”

Alize only said what she had because she had lost faith in most adventurers, and even so, I didn’t feel like she said so with those thoughts in mind. If anything, Alize probably subconsciously thought of most adventurers as selfish and cold-blooded individuals.

It was a reasonable view. After all, few adventurers would wander into the swamp.

But kind-hearted adventurers did exist, as proven by those other adventurers who had thought of attempting the request before me. Ultimately, they had their discussions and realized this request was beyond them. A wise decision, as a dead adventurer wasn’t of any use to anyone. Dying pointlessly in a swamp would be nothing more than folly, assuming one had an accurate understanding of their own abilities.

While I didn’t want to lose faith in my adventurer brethren either, I could easily understand Alize’s perspective.

“Is that right?” Alize seemed surprised at my words. “I thought no one would be interested in fulfilling an orphanage’s request from the get-go...” If memory served, Alize was considerably withdrawn and formal when

we had first met; I suppose her disillusionment with adventurers was the reason for this behavior. She probably assumed that a random, no-name Iron- class adventurer had come knocking, without much experience, capability, or thought into the request at hand.

Come to think of it, there was something else...

“You said you... Wanted. To become an adventurer...?”

“Yes... I did mention Lady Lillian’s illness was a slow one, no? Then...even if it took a while, I would eventually be able to do it—to go into the swamp and pick a Dragon Blood Blossom, I mean. Also, if I did become an adventurer, I would be able to contribute toward the orphanage’s operating costs... Or at least be able to help! I guess that was silly of me... But I

couldn’t think of anything else!”

It seemed like an impractical proposal, but the Accumulative Miasma Disease took quite a while to claim a sufferer’s life, most commonly anywhere between five to ten years. If I hadn’t shown up and Alize had become a capable adventurer a decade later, there was a chance that Sister Lillian could have held out.

At the very least, it wasn’t impossible. Alize would have to undergo harsh

training to reach that degree of strength, and given her latent reserves of mana, she might even be able to make it safely in and out of the swamp one day.

“It would seem like... You had a lot. On your mind. Although... In the end. It may seem like... You steeled yourself for... Nothing. What will you do... Now? Will you give up... On becoming an adventurer?” I asked, curious.

Alize shook her head rapidly in response. “No. After this event, I have decided now, more than ever, that I should become an adventurer. Well... There’s no more need to go swamp exploring for Dragon Blood Blossoms, but I want to become an adventurer like you, Rentt. A kind, good-hearted adventurer who helps the people!”

Eh? Me...?

At least, that was the first thought that crossed my mind. But I didn’t say that aloud.

“I do not think... I am as great. Of an adventurer... As you think I am.” “What are you even saying? Because of you, Lady Lillian’s life is saved!

She’ll be well again! Also...the orphanage has become much cleaner thanks to you!”

Cleaner?

“What... Do you mean?”

“Eh?” Alize seemed a little confused by my response. “You didn’t know? The underlings of that mouse you have on your shoulder have been running about everywhere, killing bugs and other pests in the building. Before, we would occasionally have cockroaches and other insects around, but suddenly we found them all piled up, dead! When I went to have a look at it, I found some of the Puchi Suri observing the mountain of dead cockroaches from a distance. I guess they had been weeding out all the bugs in this old place,

then left their bodies in a heap for easy disposal. We’re all really thankful!”

It would seem like Edel’s underlings had been doing good work while we were away; a strange thought, given that they were spirit- and mana-enhanced mice. I suppose this was fine.

But I couldn’t contain my curiosity, turning to look at Edel. He responded somewhat exasperatedly, stating that even his underlings liked to live in a clean environment, undisturbed by pests.

I suppose those mice weren’t as selfless as I thought they were after all.

In any case, what they were doing benefited Alize and the orphans—a symbiotic relationship, if you will.

“I had no idea... This was happening. However... I cannot take credit. For what those mice... Did.”

“But if you weren’t there, nothing would have changed!”

Alize’s views seemed resolute. Even I couldn’t say much to refute her last statement.

“...All right, all right. Think of me as... You will. On another note... If you really. Still want to become an... Adventurer. You should start training... Yourself up. Soon. Although you can register... At the age. Of 15. If you do not learn the... Basics. Of adventuring... You will very quickly. Lose your life.”

It was a well-known fact there was no short supply of fools who immediately signed on as adventurers after leaving their villages. This was, for all intents and purposes, good advice.

Alize nodded. “But how will I train myself?” A reasonable question.

“There are many... Ways. The guild has courses... Oriented toward. Beginners. If I have the time... I could teach, you, too.”

In spite of myself, I actually said it. I didn’t have any disciples, but I used to teach those very same beginner-oriented lessons at guild, on behalf of the guild’s staff. I was confident my lessons were useful, having imparted the basics of adventuring—techniques, knowledge, and all—to many new adventurers who had walked through those halls.

There was also one more thing...

“Since you have... Latent. Reserves of mana... You should learn Magecraft. While I cannot help... Much, in that regard... I know a friend. Who can. Are you... Interested?”

Said friend was none other than Lorraine. She was often busy with her research and other scholarly pursuits, but she could be extremely lazy should she feel like it. It probably wouldn’t hurt much for her to give some form of magical instruction to Alize as she lounged around on her sofa.

Alize, however, seemed a little overwhelmed by what I had to say. “But... I don’t have any coin...”

But of course she wouldn’t. Alize was an orphan, and all she could offer up for my now completed dangerous request from her was a single bronze

coin. There was no way she would be well-off.

To make things worse, most mages who taught the art tended to charge a premium for their services. Lorraine, on the other hand, wouldn’t demand any compensation, so money wasn’t an issue.

“Don’t... Worry. About it.” “That won’t do.”

“I thought... You would say that. In that case, I have... A suggestion.” “Eh?”

“I will loan you... The fees. Without interest. You can pay me back... After. You become an adventurer. How about... That?”

I suppose this was the best way to do it; even Alize would understand my intent with this gesture.

Of course, she had perhaps seen through it from the fact that I didn’t require any interest for my loan.

As expected...

“You’re sure...? Well, all right then. I’ll gratefully accept. However...I’ll definitely return that interest. After I become an adventurer...and after I start making good sums of coin, I’ll definitely return it! Is that...okay?”

I already knew this was how she would respond, given her character. I nodded slowly. “Well, then... We have a deal.”

I put out my hand. Alize took it in hers, gripping it strongly.

◆◇◆◇◆

“I do not really mind, Rentt. It is as you say, the boredom comes in waves. When I have some time, it almost seems like I have all the time in the world,” Lorraine said, narrowing her eyes at me as she continued eating her dinner.

I was now seated at the table with Lorraine, having finally returned from my trip to the orphanage. The topic at hand was, of course, none other than Lorraine teaching Alize basic magic in her free time. I had brought up the suggestion while telling Lorraine of the events of the day, after affirming Lorraine was indeed in one of her lull periods. Unfortunately, I had also unwittingly described Lorraine’s free time in an unintentionally negative light.

She was by no means a lazy individual. It was only after the fact I realized how I had made her sound. Thankfully, Lorraine had let it slide, leaving me

with my shoulders slightly slumped as I contemplated how I had nearly failed to find Alize a magic teacher. Now more than ever, I felt greatly indebted to Lorraine’s magnanimity.

“I... Apologize. I did not mean to say that... You were always. Free. Just that on occasion... Perhaps. You could spare... Some time.”

Lorraine’s expression softened upon hearing my excuses, her features now conveying more amusement than offense. With a few casual waves of the hand, Lorraine began laughing.

“I know, I know, Rentt. Could you not tell I was joking? Really, now. But I suppose there are women in this world who do not have a sense of humor. It would do you well to pay attention to such details, Rentt. You get along with everyone as an adventurer, while callously ignoring a young girl’s feelings, eh?” Lorraine said, almost snorting with amusement as she did so.

It would seem like Lorraine was merely pulling my leg. I felt a genuine sense of relief.

Lorraine’s observations and advice were right, I suppose. My goal was to become a Mythril-class adventurer, and I’d dedicated my entire life to this goal, picking up as many skills as I could along the way. Unfortunately, the appropriate etiquette one would adopt to interact with young ladies was never much a subject of study.

While I hardly had enough skill to encounter clients of the noble persuasion in life, I did practice my social etiquette to a certain degree— namely, to the point where I would be able to communicate with noble ladies and the like should it be required. However, I didn’t receive much instruction in the way of communicating with women in general. The social etiquette of women confused me. For one, I had difficulty understanding small talk. In fact, I have encountered more than one experience in which a friendly response has led to the other person revealing their true colors, and me saying something unnecessary. All in all a very complicated affair.

I would do well to be more careful about these matters from here on out. “Thank you... For the warning. Lorraine. But with how I... Look. Young

girls... Cute or otherwise. Would hardly be attracted. To me.”

I was referring to the fact that I was dressed in pitch-black robes, as well

as a suspicious-looking, somewhat skeletal mask. Why would any young lady in these lands be attracted to one as strange-looking as myself? At the very least, I would think the average young lady would keep me at arm’s length,

given my appearance.

For instance, a robed man walking along an alleyway encounters a young girl selling flowers... How would that interaction go?

“H-Hello...y-young lady...”

“Eeek! Help! Somebody help me!!!”

“W-Wait! It’s not what you think! I just wanted to t-talk to you!”

“Eeeek! That man! That strange man says he wants to buy my flowers!!!” The robed man is promptly arrested for his behavior.

Of course, the meaning of “flower” in this case would be open to gross misinterpretation.

That...is not exactly a good turn of events. I should make a mental note to never speak to any young ladies on the streets of Maalt.

“Hey now, Rentt,” Lorraine interrupted my train of thought. “Here is a young lady before your very eyes! Up here.” Lorraine pointed at herself with a markedly raised thumb.

I shook my head, fixating my gaze on said thumb. “Where...? I do not see her.”

“You...” Lorraine balled her fingers into a solid fist. “How long do you intend to abuse my kind and welcoming nature, Rentt? I will have you know, if you keep this up, I would very well snap and give you a good pounding. Is that what you would say to a young lady of 24? Hmm... Come to think of it, I did read up on the developments of particularly strong curses recently...”

With that, Lorraine sprang up from her seat, grabbing her staff in one

hand as she held up a strange-looking grimoire in her other. Panicking, I held up my hands apologetically, desperately attempting to calm my enraged friend.

“Wait... Wait! Young! You’re... Young! Miss Lorraine... Is a young lady! With a gentle disposition, and pure white skin! With... Well-defined features... And a well-shaped body! The very... Manifestation! Of the God of beauty... Even the faeries of yore... Cannot possibly! Compare! A divine being that... Never ages! With a mind that... Rivals! That of the Gods of knowledge themselves! With a gentle... Disposition and... Knowledge in the arcane! Lady Lorraine is... The very image! Of a cute young lady!”

At times like these, it was best to shower Lorraine with praise. The very

thought of not saying this much seemed to cause the footsteps of Death himself to echo ever so slightly louder in my ears. To avoid that, I would throw away my very definitions of shame, and turn all my efforts to praising Lorraine.

If I couldn’t do that, what would happen to me? In fact, would Lorraine even understand my poor attempts at praise?

I recall a time when I had shared a drink with an adventurer who was already married. He was famous for being able to avoid his wife’s wrath one way or another, and thankfully, he saw fit to share some secrets with me as we enjoyed our drinks. I wondered if he was doing well... Last I heard, he was planning to open up an inn somewhere in these lands.

While my mind was occupied with these thoughts, I happened to glance in Lorraine’s direction, only to pause as I realized she was staring at me with an expression I had never witnessed before.

Hm...? What is it?

“Where exactly,” Lorraine, finally out of her trance, began speaking, “did you learn that flirtatious way of speaking, Rentt...?”

Lorraine seemed more exasperated than she was enraged. If anything, I no longer sensed an implacable rage from the general direction of my friend. It was quite a relief.

“Where...? Not exactly... A single place. Walking around the streets... Of Maalt. You hear... Things. Here and there. You see some of these, phrases... In plays. As well. At the very least... I just said what I thought.”

“What you thought, Rentt? Do you say this to every woman you come across?”

I shook my head at the sufficiently surprised Lorraine. “Well... This is not. A scene. You come across every day, is it?”

Saying it to an even-tempered individual like Lorraine was one thing, but even I would be hard-pressed to say those words to a young lady passing me by on the street. There was just no way I could say those words.

“Hmm...” Lorraine stopped, momentarily thinking about what I had just said. “I suppose that is the case. I do apologize, Rentt; it would seem like I have asked you quite the strange question...”

“If I were used to... Saying things like that to every... Woman. I met. I would no longer... Be an adventurer, but just... A shopkeeper in some village. Such a... Pointless. Way of life... Could be supported even by... A Bronze-

class adventurer. If they worked hard.”

“As I thought, Rentt. It eases the mind.”

“Eases... The mind?” Confused, I tilted my head at Lorraine.

“Ah... That. I am merely relieved you are not a lecherous beast, if nothing else.”

Quite the terrible thing for Lorraine to say. I suppose I could expect that much; my choice of words was awkward at best.

Well-defined features and a well-shaped body... Those were lecherous words. Somehow, I felt like I should apologize to Lorraine for my poor attempt at praise.

“Well... I do. Apologize. I did not mean it... That way.”

“I understand that much, Rentt. Yes, you should be careful with interacting with other young women... In any case, would you like some more food, Rentt? Your bowl is empty.”

Lorraine gazed at the barren bowl in my hands. Mere moments ago, it was full of the food Lorraine had prepared—with a drop of her blood in it, of course, for the taste and all. I had finished it quickly, as it was most delicious.

Lorraine had been adding droplets of her blood to her cooking recently, in addition to preparing food on a more regular basis. She did mention it was for the sake of observing my health status and bodily condition, so in other

words, it was all in the name of research. Fitting for her.

“There is still some more.” Lorraine nodded. “Have more if you wish— where are you off to?” Lorraine called after me, as I headed off to the kitchen. “No, you wait here, Rentt. I’ll bring the food over. There are, after all, two separate cauldrons of it.”

Lorraine snatched the plate out of my hands, before walking off to the kitchen herself. It seemed like there was almost a bound in her step, but alas, I may have simply been imagining it.

◆◇◆◇◆

Having reached the kitchen, bowl in hand, Lorraine looked up at a conveniently-located mirror, silently hanging from the wall. Reflected therein was her own reflection, with a relatively calm expression, at that.

Lorraine parted her hair, revealing a pair of perfectly-shaped ears.

“My cheeks are red... Very much so. Perhaps I had too much to drink...”

The two of them had shared some wine after a course of dinner. While the possibility Lorraine had suggested to herself couldn’t be denied, it was worth noting Lorraine had a historically high tolerance against alcohol, and never turned red from drink alone.

Her ears were red, too.

Logically, even Lorraine knew her complexion wasn’t caused by alcohol. Sensing that she was now along a somewhat dangerous line of thought, Lorraine swatted it away.

“I should not have too much to drink... Not too much to drink...” Muttering to herself, Lorraine filled the bowl in her hands with a few deft

gestures before returning to the dining table once more. While there was, admittedly, quite the spring in her step, there were no observers to point that out to Lorraine, Rentt, or anyone else.

.

Chapter 2: And an Equally Peculiar

Request

The very next day, the first sight that greeted me when I entered the guild was that of a panicked Sheila. Wasting no time, she quickly approached.

“R-Rentt... Rentt! Wait!”

Sheila seemed adequately unsettled. I was here to check up on the state of the carcass and to settle some other, more minor issues, but I had a feeling Sheila wasn’t distraught about either of these issues.

“...What, is it?” I asked.

“W-We should talk about it...over here.”

Sheila led me to one of the rooms toward the back of the guild’s general reception area. The room was built for consultations with clients and others, and these rooms were meant more for them, as opposed to the typical adventurer. In the event of a particularly large-scale, complicated, or sensitive request, these rooms provided clients with a much-needed sense of privacy.

Basically, unless the client was of significant social status or economic power, they usually wouldn’t be granted the use of such rooms.

That wasn’t all these rooms were used for, though. As far as my current situation with Sheila illustrated, it was plain to see these rooms were often used for private or secretive conversations, as well.

Why did Sheila drag me to such a place...?

Now adequately isolated, Sheila began speaking in a hushed whisper. In her hands was clutched a sheaf of papers, presumably requests from a client.

“Rentt... Rentt, do you... Were you an associate of...the Latuule Family?” Her secretive manner and strange question caused me to tilt my head

sideways. The name in question was unknown to me, and I didn’t recall ever hearing it anywhere before.

I decided to answer Sheila truthfully. “...No. Why do you... Ask? Is it because of that... Request?”

Sheila nodded fervently, holding up the papers as she did so. “Well, you

see...this here specifically requests that you take on this task...”

Sheila handed over the documents slowly. Receiving them, I read through their contents quickly.

The task requested by the client was shown simply: to harvest Dragon Blood Blossoms from the Swamp of Tarasque at weekly intervals, and to deliver the flowers to a certain location. The reward for this task was an astronomical sum, numbers I couldn’t have even imagined during my career of hunting Goblins and Slimes.

The client’s name was also printed clearly on the document...

“Ah. I was wondering what... The fuss, was. I see Isaac has... Issued his request.”

The client was none other than the man I had met in the swamp, Isaac

Hart. Sheila seemed taken aback at my reaction. “So you knew them after all!”

To be more accurate, Sheila seemed more stunned than surprised. I suppose this had something to do with that Latuule family she had mentioned prior. It would be logical to assume the client was Isaac’s master... I could

see where this was going.

“I... Suppose this... Latuule Family. Is the family Isaac... Serves?”

“Yes.” Sheila nodded, affirming my theory. “The Latuule Family is one of Maalt’s old families, deeply intertwined with the town’s economic development. While I don’t know much about the family barring its general history, it would seem they and the guild do have quite a bit of a shared history... One of the few organizations the guild would bend over backwards to appease, if I had to put it that way.”

Judging from Sheila’s description, I suppose the family in question had some sensitive information regarding the guild in its hands. In any case, it was plain to see this Latuule Family wielded considerable power in Maalt.

But Isaac didn’t come across as an unpleasant or intimidating person. Curious, I questioned Sheila.

“Are they one of those... Powerful families. Who throw their weight around... And make, unreasonable demands?”

“No, no. They are nothing like that. In fact, they have not been very active at all recently, and their activities hardly affect Maalt’s overall economy. Of course, their influence remains strong—in Maalt, at least. So they have to be shown the appropriate amount of respect...”

A vague explanation. To start... “Are the Latuules... Nobles?”

Being a Kingdom, Yaaran had its princes and nobles. Specifically, the princes and marquises wielded the most power, followed by the peerages across the land. While some knights and squires were considered nobility as far as titles went, they didn’t have as much influence—although some were quite fond of throwing their titles around.

To the common folk, nobles were nobles, no matter how weighty their titles.

Yaaran was a relatively small kingdom on the fringes of civilization. No one would bat an eye at a duke engaging in agricultural work, or an earl having his own storefront. Compared to most other kingdoms, the concept of nobility was somewhat more relaxed here; but I suppose that was a

discussion for another time.

Sheila soon provided an answer to my question.

“No, they are not nobles, Rentt. They are simply an old, established family wielding considerable social clout due to the fact that they have been in Maalt for quite a long time. At least, that is what I hear, hence the need to show them a degree of respect. Of course, there were also rumors that Viscount Lottnel, who rules over Maalt and its surrounding areas, has deep connections with the Latuule family... Honestly speaking, the family is secretive, and even I and most of the guild staff do not know very much about them. Even so, every guild master I have seen in these halls shares the same view: that the guild should treat the Latuules with utmost respect. I am

here discussing this with you for the very same reason, as a reminder, Rentt... Take care you don’t do anything to upset them.”

“...Speak simply, Sheila... What do. You mean?”

“As I said, Rentt, a staff member of my rank cannot possibly give you the specifics. However, you would do well to treat them with respect. The Latuule family is an old one with economic clout in Maalt, as well as ties to noble families in the land. This much you understand, yes? In other words, Rentt...if you were to refuse this request, you would no longer be able to live in Maalt!” Sheila said, somewhat exasperated.

What a terrible development. I thought that I had simply run into an interesting individual in the bowels of the Swamp of Tarasque, but I hadn’t the slightest clue about his identity.

But of course, I had no intentions of turning down this request. All factors considered, the monetary rewards were great, and the official client was

Isaac, not his master. In fact, I had only agreed to look at the request, and I

would in turn only accept it if the terms were acceptable to me.

The guild wouldn’t want me to cancel under any circumstance, and that much I understood. Even so, it was good etiquette to at least meet with the client once and discuss the matter at hand before giving my answer. If I really had to turn it down, then that would be that.

This was a request just like any other; I didn’t see any problems of note. I was still very much interested in the specifics of the Latuule family, if

only to better understand this powerful family that Isaac served. A personal curiosity, I suppose, not that Sheila could give me details anyway. I supposed I could just ask them in person, or ask some of my informants and adventurer comrades.

However, I had been adventuring in Maalt for ten whole years. Although I didn’t have much in the way of combat skills, I considered myself well- informed when it came to Maalt.

Even so...I had never heard of the Latuule family before this day. The names of a few other powerful old families were known to me, but Latuule wasn’t among them.

How is this possible?

In any case, Isaac would be able to tell me, should he choose to do so, that

is.

Shelving my thoughts momentarily, I turned to Sheila. “I have... No

intentions. Of turning down this... Request. I have spoken... With Isaac. In the depths of... The Swamp, of Tarasque. The reason why... He wanted to task

me with this. Request. Was because he could... See that. I managed to venture deep into... The swamp. Without much effort. So I will be... Accepting. This request.”

“Really...? Will you be all right? I mean...your constitution, Rentt...” Sheila didn’t finish her sentence, but I understood what she meant. I was

still a monster, and the Latuule family was an old one with connections to the ruling nobles of the town. If I was somehow found out, I would surely be chased out of Maalt. In the worst-case scenario, even Maalt’s denizens could turn on me, with the scenario eventually ending in my untimely death at the hands of my fellow adventurers.

Not a good thought.

I shook my head. “I doubt... They would easily. Find out... Given my appearance. In fact... Isaac, himself. Did not seem too bothered... By how I looked. When he met me.”

While I couldn’t be sure of this, it was true Isaac didn’t comment much on my appearance, so I suppose that was a fair assumption. Even if I was instructed to take off my robe and mask before the master of the Latuule family as a sign of respect, I could simply say I had been terribly burnt by acid, and was a hideous specter of a man. Surely they would accept such an explanation?

If they didn’t believe me, I would merely turn the request down then and there.

Isaac was a man of his word; at least, that was the impression he gave me. Of all things, it seemed highly unlikely he would fixate on my appearance.

Sheila nodded hesitantly. “If anything happens...tell me, okay? I do not know what I can do, but I will help you with everything I’ve got.”

Nodding at Sheila’s words, I patted her lightly on the shoulder with a gloved hand, before exiting the room altogether.

◆◇◆◇◆

I am...completely lost.

This was the singular thought that filled my mind as I continued my journey to the Latuule family’s grounds.

I had intended to meet Isaac and discuss the details of the request. I was given appropriate instruction by the guild, of course. The location of the manor was clearly noted down on a map, and for all intents and purposes, was easy to understand. The manor sat in the outskirts of Maalt, and I had arrived at the specified location without getting lost. The problem, however, was in the geography of the area.

The Latuule family was adequately housed in a gigantic manor, and while that was my destination, I had to first pass through a large garden on its grounds before actually reaching the manor’s doors. Not that rare of a sight, especially when it came to the fancy manors of powerful old families around these parts. The problem was hardly the manor—it was the garden in front of

it.

If I had to guess, this garden was probably born from the whims of a great

Latuule in the past. Instead of a typically straight path to the manor, this garden was more like a twisting maze. One only had to set foot in its depths

to find the tall hedges blocking one’s view. These hedges were crafted from a rose-like shrub of sorts, with the plants growing to impossibly tall heights.

All I could see around me was a sea of green.

Advancing deeper down this path, I turned this way and that—and then the road before me forked. Beyond the fork was yet another fork, and this maze-like series of hedges continued indefinitely. Before long, I realized I was, for the lack of a better word, lost.

Frankly speaking, I had no issues keeping my bearings, at least for the first few twists and turns. This was no longer the case as I went deeper into the garden-maze, however.

I could only stop in this maze of hedges, thinking back to the details of my request.

If memory served, I had asked all the questions I needed to ask. Reminiscing, I calmed myself, recalling the initial conversation I had with the guard at the gates, prior to setting foot into this unreasonably hedgy maze. While I remembered the details of the request well, I didn’t recall the request instructing me to go maze-exploring.

Yes, I had shown my documents to the gate guard, who didn’t have many qualms about me entering. His gaze almost seemed transfixed on a faraway horizon I couldn’t see, and he seemed happy to be rid of me.

I did ask him some questions before I left, though. “Are there... Any. Other entrances...?”

The gate guard momentarily turned to look at the rose maze, before turning back to me slowly, shaking his head.

“Not that I know of, sir... Perhaps these other entrances do exist, but I do not know of them.” His expression was serious and sincere, and it seemed like he had given my question considerable thought before answering.

I could feel a wave of despair washing over me. I had no choice but to pass through this strange maze-garden if I was to even knock on the manor’s doors.

“How long... Does it. Usually take?”

“To the manor, sir? Well...that largely depends on the individual... The maze changes its paths occasionally, you see. As such, giving an accurate estimate of time would be quite beyond me...” the guard said, an apologetic expression on his face.

A maze that changed its paths occasionally? One would be hard-pressed to call it any ordinary maze.

The guard, as if sensing my doubt, continued: “But of course, sir. The maze itself is a special sort of magical tool, you see. The generational heads of the Latuule family have all shared an interest in collecting magical tools, and this maze is a phenomenon created by one of those tools...”

I could hardly conceal my surprise. Could such a magical tool even exist? I suppose it was possible. Magical tools could be widely split into three categories: Divine Tools, Curiosities, and Cursed Artifacts. A tool from one of these categories could most likely give birth to such a maze.

While most magical tools had certain standardized functions, there were outliers that were completely different from their brethren. A good example would be that of a light tool, which was a simple magical tool that lit up dark places. It had a high usage frequency, and benefited from its simple construction. Since these tools could be made in large quantities, they were suitably cheap when sold on the market.

Special tools, on the other hand, were quite different, and were often one of a kind. An example would be my cursed mask, and my waterproof robe. Such tools often had special or strange effects, and their value was highly subjective. Some of these special magical tools even had very useful effects, while others were questionable if they did anything at all. Due to the high- varied nature of these tools, their value was often in flux as well.

Take my mask, for instance: a highly useful tool given my unique constitution and situation, but one that was picked up by Rina for three

bronze coins. I suppose the merchant selling it felt it was nothing more than a piece of junk, and had set a suitably low price for it. It was, as it turned out, a cursed mask I have since been unable to remove, so the merchant’s senses weren’t too far off the mark. Given that my face looked the way it did, I

could no longer tell if the curse of the mask was more of a blessing... “...Having unique hobbies is... Fine. I suppose. But... To think I would

have to... Overcome this. Hobby of theirs. To even get there...” I said, suitably irritated by the situation.

The guard simply smiled in response.

“I do empathize, sir. But why not take a shot at it? The maze is designed to even out into a straight path to the entrance after someone has spent a certain amount of time in it. As a matter of fact, I have heard that those who successfully make it out of the maze before then are occasionally presented with a magical tool as a gift of appreciation...”

It would seem like the guard was trying to indirectly tell me something... As if noticing this, the guard continued, his expression unchanging.

“I, too, have challenged the maze, quite some moons ago, sir. If there are no expected guests, this gate usually remains closed; but back then, it was open. I had seen a poster, you see, claiming that challengers who managed to conquer the maze would be presented with a magical tool as a gift. On it was a map to the manor, and that was how I found myself before these very gates, all that time ago.”

It would seem like the Latuules were capricious individuals, seemingly enjoying their games.

Given that they were an old family with financial clout, I suppose it wouldn’t be too strange if they had simply decided to organize such events on a whim. Normally, most nobles settled for parties or other fancies, but those bored of otherwise plain social functions often explored

more...unconventional options.

This was perhaps one such case.

“Of course,” the guard continued, “many other individuals saw the posters, as well. I was not the only one to arrive at these gates. Many others stood here at this very spot, all with the same goal. Although many entered, many ended up lost, and after a while found themselves back here. All of them had lost their way somewhere in the maze, and after a short while, found that the maze itself shifted, leading them onto a path that led back to the entrance. I was surprised when I had first heard of this, but I supposed such a feat was possible with magical tools of some sort. Even though I thought it a largely impossible affair, the fact that the maze guided lost challengers back to the entrance was reassuring, so I set foot into it once again...”

“And you reached... The goal.”

“Yes. It was a stroke of luck if anything. I would not be able to do it again, of that I knew very well. As promised, however, the then-head of the

Latuule family saw it fit to present quite a few magical tools to me, allowing me to choose between them. They were all respectably useful artifacts, yes, but... Well, I was out of a job then, sir. As embarrassing as it is for me to recount...I refused to take any tool as a reward, and instead asked for a position at the manor. And so...”

“They hired... You. I see...”

Given the sheer size of the manor and the amount of land the family owned, I suppose it made sense that they had quite the collection of powerful magical tools. All things considered, the position of gate guard was probably a comparatively relaxed one. To his credit, the guard was quite serious at his job, and was likely to keep it from here on out.

“On another... Note. I apologize if... This is insensitive. But why were you out... Of a job?”

“Ah, that, sir. I had gone against my superior’s orders, you see. And to think I was this close to a stable, lifetime employment! For shame. But as a result, I did get offered a position here, and I have ever since decided to live with both my feet on the ground—or so they say.”

“It is good... To live honestly. A good thing... Indeed.”

Even one such as myself could regain their humanity; well, if I tried hard, perhaps. In any case, my decision to continue living responsibly hadn’t changed in the slightest.

And yet...evolving into a stronger being after I was eaten wholesale by a mythical dragon wasn’t half-bad. I suppose life just had so many twists and turns.

I looked at the guard, feeling a strange sense of camaraderie.

“I have learned... A lot. From our little. Talk. I suppose I should try my hand at... The maze. As well. Any advice... For a newcomer like... Me?”

It was a question new adventurers often asked their seniors. As if understanding my joke, the guard smiled, somewhat deeply.

“Yes... Yes. Perhaps it would be wise not to depend on the sun for navigation, sir...”

I tilted my head at his words, but even so, the guard was a veteran of the maze. I put some trust into them.

Thanking the guard, I turned toward the maze’s entrance, taking one bold step into its confines.

◆◇◆◇◆

This really is...something else.

I held my head in despair as I continued inspecting my surroundings. I couldn’t help it—no matter where I looked, I was surrounded by hedges. I could no longer see the path that led me here, nor could I see a path that would lead me out of this maze.

What, exactly, was a magical tool like this even developed for? While such a thought did cross my mind, it would be uncouth to say out loud. I suppose strange tools like this did exist. The tool itself could have been removed from its original abode, where it once had some special purpose.

Magical craftsmen, though seen as inventors and facilitators of convenience in our modern age, were once seen as con men and cheats. Magical tools were born from man’s desire to replicate what he had found or seen in the labyrinths. With that thought in mind, one could assume the original tool in question was truly a mysterious object with a variety of uses, if going by the official account history hard to share.

Few magical tools were truly useless, however. One usually wouldn’t

find, say, a tool that only glowed dimly, or one that laughed in a high-pitched voice endlessly if tapped with a finger. Even if one did come across a seemingly pointless tool, it could be studied, dissected, and even have rare materials harvested from it. These materials would sell for a fair sum of coin

—such were the myriad of uses of said tools.

Even I could see the tool that generated this rose-hedge maze probably had some unique purpose of its own in the past.

Even so, this garden was truly large. To maintain a maze of this scale, and an occasionally self-changing maze at that, required a significant amount of magical power. I suppose the Latuules didn’t find that much of an issue,

given their tendency to spend coin as if it were water. One could easily purchase many magical crystals with such finances—thus my worries about the maze suddenly giving out would be very much misplaced. Perhaps the original creator of the device wanted to know how it felt like to be completely lost, and created this tool as a means to escape the confines of reality? Thoughts and assumptions aside, all this speculation did little to change my current situation.

I am truly lost.

Is there really nothing I can do?

My thoughts were interrupted by the scenery before me seemingly opening into another place.

“Where... What? Is this place...?”

I found myself surrounded by hedges once more, on a path that didn’t seem too different from the ones I had followed thus far. The space before me, however, was bright, and rose blossoms bloomed on the once-barren hedges. Up until now, all the hedges I had passed were a dull shade of green. While there were occasionally some blooming roses, they were of various colors and uneven distribution, seemingly more of a natural phenomenon than a man-made one.

But this was different. Quite a few roses bloomed in this space; the roses were real, having reached out and touched some to confirm it for myself. The middle of this rose-filled chamber was different, too, or perhaps it better matched its surroundings? A table made from an opulent shell-like substance sat in the chamber, and an expensive tea set made of white porcelain sat atop it. Seated at the table on an equally iridescent shell-chair was a figure,

holding up a teacup in an impossibly elegant fashion. Raising the cup to their lips, they drank deep from it, their every action exuding refinement.

Noticing my presence, the figure in question raised their head, staring straight in my direction.

“Are you giving up...?”

I see. This must be a member of the Latuule household, offering me a means of exit upon seeing I was lost. The figure in question was a young girl, maybe of 12 or 13 years of age. It almost seemed like she was a being not of this world.

With a faraway gaze and a frilly black dress that didn’t seem very functional, she sat, still looking my way. Her pure-white skin struck quite the contrast to her blue eyes.

Really, she looked somewhat...unhealthy. An aura of frailty and decadence surrounded her; a result of noble breeding, perhaps?

.

“...No,” I answered her query without hesitation. “I was thinking of... Trying a little harder. May I have a bit... More time? No...?”

The young girl smiled in response. Compared to her expressionless demeanor earlier, her smile lit up her features, making her look more her age.

While this was nothing more than a personal observation, I felt this expression suited her better—but, as usual, that was a thought for another time.

“In that case, do head down that-a-way. The maze goes on for quite a while more. On another note... If you would like to catch your breath, how about having some tea with me? I have prepared several teas—perhaps one of them would suit your tastes.”

While I hesitated to accept this sudden show of kindness, I eventually found myself wandering over, pulling out a chair for myself.

“...I humbly accept.” “Very well. Allow me...”

I had reached out to the teapot, intending to fill my own cup, but the girl across the table had somehow reached it first, and she was now filling my cup with freshly-brewed tea.

The pot seemed to already be filled with hot water. I suppose the pot was a magical tool in and of itself, having other abilities in addition to its self- brewing capability. While I didn’t feel anything too peculiar from the teacup, this little interaction alone was enough to illustrate that the Latuules loved collecting magical tools of all kinds.

There was a constant demand for magical tools that could brew tea on their own, but such tools were rare, even in the deepest depths of the most treacherous labyrinths. Should one appear in an auction, it would be immediately snapped up by eager buyers, and for prices that defied common understanding. Craftsmen who were capable of creating such tools often sold their creations as soon as they came out of the kiln. To make things worse, the creation of these tools was by no means simple, and few craftsmen could create magical teaware of acceptable quality.

Now, there were many collectors in the market. It was a highly competitive genre in magical tool collecting, if I could say so.

This wasn’t purely a pursuit amongst nobles, for even common folk who loved tea had a stake in it. If one had the funds, one would be able to purchase at least one tea set; that was how the common wisdom went.

Magical teaware was quite highly-ranked, even in the genre of competitive magical tool collecting: the rarer and more complicated its abilities, the higher the cost. Past a certain point, one required a fair amount of coin to continue collecting.

“Please, have some tea. As you may have noticed, this pot is a magical tool. Once it is filled with tea leaves, one only has to infuse magic into the pot after a brew to replace the leaves with a new batch.”

I could only imagine the bidding process for such an amazing piece of magical teaware...

I’ve been to several auctions in life as a mere spectator, but the few teapots I had seen could only keep their contents warm eternally, or possibly prevent the leaves within from ever entering one’s drink. I also recalled a particularly sturdy, break-resistant pot.

Compared to this...

How much did the Latuules purchase this teapot for?

My hand, still holding a cup full of tea, began shaking as I imagined how much all this had cost the Latuules.

Although the cup itself wasn’t enchanted or magical, it had a similar look and feel to the teapot in question. Its surface was illustrated with a beautiful mosaic of roses and vines, as if it were specifically prepared to match its surroundings. I suppose the Latuules had commissioned a craftsman to create cups that matched the pot.

I, myself, knew the basics of creating ceramics, but only true artisans could create such intricate, even illustrations on such a small object. Judging by its appearance, this teacup alone would fetch a handsome price, even if it wasn’t magical by any means. In such a case, it would be sold as an art piece.

I couldn’t even begin thinking about the consequences should I somehow shatter this cup...

The young girl just laughed in response, as if reading my mind. Was it the look of apprehension I had?

“Even if you do break it, it’s quite all right. Of course, I would greatly prefer if you didn’t stand up and hurl it unto the ground with all your might. But I assure you, I wouldn’t be angered in the event of an accident. Please, relax, and slowly enjoy the brew.”

Neither the girl’s voice nor gaze betrayed any untoward intent. Was this what it meant to never pick fights with the rich? How...very terrible—and

that was a sincere thought that had risen up from the very depths of my poverty-filled heart.

◆◇◆◇◆

As she lifted the cup to her lips yet again, I couldn’t help but notice that the young girl across the table was staring at me, her blue eyes transfixing on my masked face.

“What... Is it?” I asked.

“Ah... I beg your pardon. I was simply wondering how you would drink the brew, given how you are dressed.”

“Ah... That.”

It probably goes without saying that my mask couldn’t be taken off, and doing so during meal times wasn’t something I had even considered. I still had my mask on at this point in time, hence the curious stare from the girl across the table.

Yes, taking it off would make it easier for me to eat and drink. The technical aspects of it aside, there was a good reason why I could not: I was an Undead, a Thrall. While I couldn’t speak for other Thralls, I assumed I couldn’t just take my mask off and show my face in public.

With that being said, however, my mask did arrange itself to show the lower half of my face during certain instances, like when I dined with Lorraine. The situation was somewhat different for Lorraine, and adults in general, since they would be able to tolerate the sight of my wrinkled skin, assuming I had been the victim of burns or other injuries. But the girl across the table from me was a young child about 12 to 13 years of age. The lower half of my face would be far too grotesque a sight for a young girl of that age.

If I had to point out the most rotted, disgusting part of my Thrall body at this point in time, it would be the lower half of my face. I had no lips and my gums and teeth were visible, like white monuments protruding from wrinkled skin. At a glance, someone would merely assume the lower half of my face was skeletal in nature.

No...perhaps it was even more fearsome than just some dried old bones. Due to the halfheartedly human state my body was in, certain muscles

were visible, attached to the jawbone and other parts of my chin. Their movements, too, could be clearly seen. Surely this would have a more

disturbing impact than regular, clean, white bones.

All in all, showing my face to the girl would be a bad idea. In which case...exactly what sort of excuse should I weave?

“Is that a magical tool of some sort...?” A question from the girl herself, in response to something she had seen, probably.

If I had to guess...my mask had changed its shape once more. But instead of revealing the entire bottom half of my face, the mask had seen fit to open up a small slit where my mouth was—just the right shape for me to drink tea from.

Under normal circumstances, this shape couldn’t be maintained for more than a few seconds, as it would return to its previous shape after. In my experience, though, this was more than enough time for me to drink tea.

Raising the cup to the opening in my mask, I drank, responding to the girl in between sips.

“Not so much a... Magical tool. More of a... Cursed. Artifact. An acquaintance of... mine. Bought it from a Maaltesian... roadside merchant.”

At my word, the girl’s eyes opened wide, almost sparkling as she responded excitedly. “Maalt plays host to such interesting objects...? Do excuse my impertinence, but...is there any way I could take that mask off your hands?”

The Latuule family supposedly had a habit of collecting magical tools of all kinds. From the girl’s behavior, it would seem there was indeed some truth to that rumor.

Although I didn’t know the girl’s exact social standing in the Latuule family, I could be sure of one thing: unlike Isaac, who served the family, this girl was unmistakably one of the few who were served by individuals like him.

I suppose she meant to pay me to “take it off my hands,” and as expected, the conversation veered in that direction.

“But of course,” the girl continued, “I will ensure you are adequately compensated and satisfied with the exchange... So, how about it?” Her voice was eager.

Honestly speaking, I would have loved to hand my mask over to her. Unfortunately, it wasn’t something I could do at this point in time. Cursed object though it may be, the mask had also become an indispensable tool in my daily life.

In addition, the mask was also cursed to be adequately immovable, and that was what I would tell her. At the very least, I would need a face I could show to other human beings before considering its removal.

For all intents and purposes it still remained resolutely stuck to my face despite my personal preferences, and that was that. Even if I earnestly attempted to remove it, it would still surely still be an impossible feat.

A vision of myself drowning in a small mountain of gold coins passed rapidly before my eyes. The temptation seemed to slowly draw me away

from reality, but I resolutely shook my head, suppressing my worldly desires. “...My apologies. It is not about... The money. I am simply... Unable...”

I suppose it was quite a pathetic, or at least sorrowful tone of voice, as the girl’s previously excited expression was now one of pity.

“Ah, no. That is fine. It would appear I have dredged forth some...unpleasant memories, and have crudely offered you coin in exchange. I do apologize...”

Unpleasant memories...? No, no, nothing of the sort. No special thoughts or memories of any kind resided in this mask. Really, it was much more like a nightmare, one that had suddenly stuck itself to my face and never let go. Even now, despite my best efforts, my mask remained very much attached.

If I had to put it into words, the despair I was feeling now wasn’t the sadness of losing an old friend or a valuable tool for money, but instead the prospect of losing out on a potential mountain of earnings because I couldn’t take this accursed mask off.

Judging by the girl’s reaction, I suppose it was smarter for me to hold my peace, for fear of earning her disdain... Though money was certainly important.

“No... I do not. Mind. One cannot possibly... Tell. Such things just by... Looking. At an object. If anything I... Am grateful. That you... Showed me such. Consideration.”

As I said, from the outside, no one could possibly discern my intense material attachment to coin. Which was fine, for I looked more respectable this way.

Alas, what a terrible adult I have become... Looking at the girl’s pure, innocent eyes...

“I would be most grateful if you do indeed feel that way, yes. On another note, is the tea to your liking?”

An unexpected and skillful change of subject.

At her prompting, I turned my attention to the teacup in my hands. For some reason, it tasted...delicious. Incredibly delicious. The fragrance, as well, was in a class of its own. This may very well be the best cup of tea I had tasted my entire life.

“This is the... Most delicious. Tea I have had in... My life,” I responded to the girl’s question honestly. “Is this also thanks to... The magical aspects. Of the teapot?”

“I would suppose so, yes. However, it is less the teapot’s magic, and more of the skill and hard work the farming families have put into raising the

plants used. As I have mentioned before, this pot has the magical ability to infinitely recreate any tea leaves that have been placed into it. In other words...someone had put these leaves in years, perhaps even decades ago. Among all the different blends I have tasted from the archives within this pot...I find this one to be the most delicious, so to speak.”

As she said, the tea was quite good. Many factors influenced the quality of tea leaves, including terrain and weather, to name a few. Due to this, tea

leaves often varied greatly in terms of quality. One wouldn’t also realistically expect to enjoy similar-tasting tea all year round.

This pot was the exception, allowing its wielder to enjoy a variety of blends from various parts of the lands at any time of the year. Illogical, yet terribly impressive, this teapot must have surely cost quite a fortune.

I had originally assumed the pot could only recreate the most recent leaves that had been brewed in it, but it would seem like I was mistaken. To recreate any and all blends that have ever been brewed in its porcelain body... This teapot was on another level altogether.

It was possibly the ultimate teapot.

Though some individuals preferred to enjoy a steady stream of changing flavors as the years passed, and to reminisce of previous blends in their memories. It was quite reasonable to assume, however, that most people would readily see the value in such a pot, and desire it.

“Where, exactly... Did you manage to procure. Such an item?”

“If I do recall, it was discovered in a faraway labyrinth almost two centuries ago. A sum of coin was offered to the adventurer who had found it, and it made its way into our possession. As for the sum...I do believe it was, say, about 300 platinum coins.”

“Platinum... Coins...”

As long as one wasn’t reckless with their money, a single platinum coin was more than enough for a person to live a merry life. To think 300 of these coins were paid...

It was far from a reasonable price for a single pot. To a family like the Latuules, however, it probably wasn’t that great of a sum at all. After all, they had paid such a colossal sum to this unnamed adventurer, yet still managed to live in such finery for the next two centuries. Plus, they continued

maintaining their sphere of influence in Maalt.

I finally understood that the Latuules were a far more dangerous family than the few small-time nobles currently ruling over Maalt.

After some subsequent topics of conversation, I eventually stood up, taking care not to drop or knock anything over.

“Oh, are you already going?” the girl asked.

“Yes... I am indeed. It was... Most enjoyable. This is just... A guess. But I

feel like we will soon... Meet again, no?”

“Oh?” The girl smiled vaguely in response to my question. “Have you already found out?”

With that, it was clear she was indeed a member of the Latuule family. As to her social position within it... I still didn’t have enough information on my hands.

“...Yes. In some way or... Another. I shall ask for your... Name. When we meet again.”

“Well, then, do be careful... The end of the maze is not far now, but perhaps I shall grant unto you a hint. It would be best for you to not look at the sun.”

“I have actually... Already heard that. From the guard at the gate.” “Oh? Perhaps it was unnecessary, then. Do give those words some

thought, however.” “I understand.”

With that, I took a step out of the clearing—and almost immediately, a wall of vines and leaves sprouted from where I stood moments ago, sealing off the girl and her tea table from my view.

Taking a good look at my surroundings, I realized all the paths before me continued on deep into the maze. No matter how I looked at it, I would surely be lost regardless of whichever path I took.

“...Not long until the... End. She said. Is that really... True?” I muttered under my breath as I began venturing through the maze once more.

I just wanted to reach the end of the maze as quickly as possible.

◆◇◆◇◆

Come to think of it... Yes, come to think of it, the very fact I was lost was strange, if only because I was an adventurer who had been in the business for years. I personally felt I had a better sense of direction than most, and I’d been mentally mapping this garden-maze of the Latuules as I traversed its snaking paths.

Despite this...I had become lost. How was this possible? I couldn’t understand it...

The problem at hand defied understanding. Then there was the issue of the sun, and the advice both the girl and guard had given me. When I first heard

it from the guard, I had simply assumed one couldn’t use the sun to accurately determine one’s geographical position and bearings. So I had followed their advice—and ended up becoming very lost.

Perhaps a change of pace was due, so I turned upward, looking at the sun. “...It seems like. How it has always... Been.”

There was nothing particularly odd about the position of the sun in the sky...or so I thought.

That must be the case, then... Did their advice have nothing to do with the sun at all...?

I turned a corner—

The sun’s position...shifted before my very eyes.

Adequately surprised and assuming it was just a figment of my imagination, I took a single step back into the previous walkway. As I did, the sun’s position shifted once more. I suppose the advice of not using the sun as a directional marker was indeed true.

In which case...how was it possible I was still so lost?

No. No, there must be something more to all this.

The strangely flipping sun was probably only one part of a larger mechanic. One couldn’t depend on the sun to find one’s way; that much I understood. There had to be a bigger mechanism at work here, one I wasn’t yet aware of.

If the guard had indeed been misled by the sun during his attempt at the maze, that was all fair and good, hence his advice to me. But my case was slightly...different.

If the advice was meant to mislead, I would have to start questioning the girl’s intentions. Should that truly be her intent, she would be quite the character... She had given me the same advice even after understanding her guard had done the same, going so far as to tell me to give her words some thought. There had to be some other means of deception at play.

Essentially, the guard’s advice was the truth—but the girl’s advice was meant to trick and mislead me... I could assume so, anyway.

She had quite a mysterious aura about her, and I just couldn’t get a good read on her character at all. I suppose it was fair to assume she wasn’t an individual who would so readily give me a hint on how to conquer the maze, would she.

I continued exploring, but it didn’t take long for me to feel that something was off. After walking in a straight line for some distance, I felt like the path had mysteriously curved to one side. Although it was a small, almost insignificant sensation, I certainly felt it, so this was no trick of the mind.

I glanced around, affirming my surroundings. Little had changed, but a cursory look at the sun revealed it had sunk a little lower than when I had last looked at it. The sun’s position had changed, but this knowledge was of little use to me.

What should I do...?

I stopped in my tracks, thinking about the problem at hand. It was at this moment I saw, from the corner of my eye, a rock at my feet. It was a considerably-sized rock—the size of a fist, perhaps. Picking it up, I hurled the rock at the strange, seemingly twisted space before me. The rock then promptly disappeared in the middle of its arc, without a single trace or sound.

“...Impossible. Is this... Teleportation?”

Teleportation—to be precise, it was a special type of spatial magic yet to be recreated by the hands of man. However...if this was truly an artifact that hadn’t been crafted by men, then there was a possibility.

Only a magical tool with a significant amount of magical power could cause a rose maze like this one to appear. I wouldn’t be surprised if teleporting objects and people was one of its functions. But could an individual even own, much less contain such a powerful artifact...?

I suppose such a line of questioning didn’t help matters. For now, I had to focus on the actions I could potentially take. If I didn’t do as such, I would never conquer this maze, and I would surely be lost forever.

I picked up yet another rock, tossing it into the strange space before me. It didn’t seem like much had changed at all, but this little experiment was more than enough to illustrate that a change had taken place, for the rock was nowhere to be seen. There was only one explanation: the rock in question had landed in that invisible space.

I threw yet another rock into the strange spot and, again, it vanished. As I thought, the rocks had passed through this invisible point in space, and landed somewhere on the other side.

Upon closer observation, this part of the labyrinth was very much like any other part of it. If I hadn’t been paying attention, I wouldn’t have given that dissonant feeling much thought. I suppose this was why I had been stuck in this maze; the map in my mind was drawn under the assumption all the paths were physically connected. In reality, this maze was made of many passages connected by pockets of spatial distortions.

If my assumptions were correct...then I no longer knew where I had stepped, or even set foot in. It didn’t seem like I would reach the goal any time soon.

However, from this point on, it would be different. I would mark this location as the starting point, and redraw my mental map.

Honestly speaking, I had thought of using the Map of Akasha in this silly maze. But the map only displayed a single line as I unfurled it.

Unable to display current location.

Although I had asked the map aloud what it meant, it offered back no response. And that was that, I suppose—this maze was clearly nothing more than a plaything for the rich. There were even prizes in it for me if I won, and I wouldn’t die should I fail in my task.

But having come this far, I was determined to press on, and maybe even tell that girl with the terrible personality I hadn’t fallen victim to her tricks...

Even though I had already fallen for it multiple times, and ended up becoming very, very lost...

◆◇◆◇◆

“...I finally. Made it...”

Leaving the maze of rose hedges behind, I stepped out into an open space. Before me was an elegant, yet beautiful manor, complete with an elaborate water fountain. Next to that fountain, on yet another ornate table, sat the girl in question, elegantly sipping away at a teacup. Next to her, as expected, was none other than Isaac.

Upon noticing me, the girl got up, advancing in my direction. Isaac followed silently after the girl, who, before long, was standing before me. “Congratulations. To be completely honest, I didn’t think you were

capable of conquering the maze.”

Although her expression was that of a 12- or 13-year-old girl, I knew of the darker personality behind it. There was nothing I could do, of course.

To be honest, the girl may be mischievous, but she was by no means malicious. I suppose this was a prank as good as any, given that at no point in time was my life in danger. However, the fact that I had spent all this time wandering about just because of a little girl’s whim was truly upsetting.

When I arrived at the Latuule manor, the sun was high in the sky. That very same sun was now setting, tinting the world with a fading shade of crimson.

Just how long did I spend in that maze...?

“I had thought... I would have. Conquered the maze much... Faster. At least... Until I understood. The meaning of your words...”

“I see, so you did notice. Perhaps my acting was not quite up to par?” “...No. It was fine. In fact... If it were... My old self. I would have

certainly... Fallen for it.”

I couldn’t exactly tell her I had become a Thrall. The only reason why I’d noticed that pocket of distorted space was due to my heightened senses, those being of spatial awareness, a better sense of smell, and more acute vision. Therefore, I couldn’t exactly say my past life’s experience caused me to notice the spatial fault, though I couldn’t entirely discredit it, either.

The girl shook her head slowly at my words. “Your old self, you say?” “No...” I shook my head in the same way in response. “Just. Some

circumstances of mine. On another note... I had heard. From the guard that... Those who conquer. The maze... Can claim a reward. Do I... Get one, too?” On one hand, I had put in a fair amount of work to get to this point. On

the other, the reward was a bit of an afterthought, merely information I had

chanced upon when speaking with the guard at the gate. Even if the Latuules decided there would be no reward in it for me on this occasion, I suppose I had some degree of justification to ask for one.

Such thoughts didn’t seem necessary, however, as the girl soon answered me, that same smile on her face.

“Oh, yes, of course. I had intended to gift upon you one magical tool the

Latuule family has owned.”

As I had expected. Maybe now it was my turn to be mischievous. “Well... Then. How about the magical... Tool. That was used to make...

This rose hedge maze?” I asked bluntly.

The girl’s eyes immediately opened wide. “I do apologize... I cannot possibly gift that magical tool to you. If you would be so kind as to understand...”

“It was a... joke,” I immediately responded to her statement. “Just like how you... Played a trick on me. In the maze... I thought I would. Return the favor.”

The girl looked exasperated at my declaration. “You are a bad, bad man...” she said, the ghost of a wry smile flitting across her face.

◆◇◆◇◆

I couldn’t just spout out what manner of magical tool I would like. The Latuule family, given its history of collecting such tools over the ages, would surely only take the cream of the crop. Regardless of my choice, the tool I would choose would surely sell for a great sum of coin. I’d probably take any tool I was offered... But if given a choice to select a specific object—

“...In any. Case. Perhaps I might look at... Your offerings?” The girl seemed prepared for such a question.

“Oh, but of course. This way, if you would,” she said, walking toward the manor’s doors.

Isaac, for his part, followed silently after her. Given his continued silence thus far, I had no doubt he was this mischievous girl’s servant.

Isaac’s master... Mistress, possibly?

“Oh, yes. I have all but forgotten to introduce myself. I am the current head of the Latuule family, Laura Latuule. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

And so the mystery was solved—this girl wasn’t a Latuule family member’s daughter or anything of the sort, she was the head of the family herself.

Although her age surprised me to a certain extent, there were no age restrictions when it came to inheriting family titles, unlike that of adventurer registration. There were quite a few instances where the family’s fate was thrust into the hands of a capable young heir, be the circumstances extenuating or otherwise.

In the case of noble families, it was common for a child not yet of age to inherit such a title, especially after particularly bloody family feuds. The Latuule family, while not noble in origin, had significant financial power. I could believe there were ferocious battles for the title of family head—money and power were quite terrifying things.

I turned to Laura, introducing myself. “I, too... Did not. Introduce myself. My name is Rentt... Vivie. A Bronze-class... Adventurer.”

At those words, a brief expression of surprise crossed Laura’s features. Isaac, on the other hand, remained predictably stoic. Like master, like servant, I suppose.

In other words, they didn’t exactly think less of me even after learning of my relatively low adventurer rank. Admirable as far as attitudes went, but a rare one, if I had to say.

I was the individual they were about to task with the job, and most people would feel reassured by the presence of a higher-ranked adventurer.

Of course, there would be no problems if the request in question was suited to the skills of a Bronze-class adventurer. In the case of nobility, merchant families, or immensely powerful families like the Latuules, the guild would most likely dispatch a high-ranked adventurer to ensure their satisfaction. At the very least, a Bronze-class adventurer wouldn’t show up, and the requester would expect a Silver-class individual.

To summarize, I was only here because Isaac had asked for me by name. Under normal circumstances, individuals such as him or Laura would never entrust a low-ranked adventurer like myself with any requests. Laura didn’t even seem too bothered after hearing about my rank. Did Isaac tell her about what he had seen at the swamp?

That didn’t quite look like it was the case...

Laura shot a sideways glance at Isaac. Her expression seemed to convey

understanding. If I had to guess, Isaac had probably given her a somewhat vague description of me, as opposed to going deep into the specifics.

While I had assumed Isaac would simply explain any and everything to his mistress, I suppose this wasn’t the case. What exactly was their relationship like...? A cursory examination showed that Isaac generally obeyed Laura’s every whim—unlike that Puchi Suri familiar of mine.

On another note, Edel was conspicuously missing from his usual perch on my shoulder. He apparently had a meeting with his underlings in the orphanage’s basement, and had wandered off to deal with some matters of his own. Personally, I didn’t want to explain to the Latuules why there was a monster perched on my shoulder, so this was probably for the best.

He was a clean mouse, having been purified by my divinity on a few occasions, but I didn’t doubt that some individuals would only see him as a dirty beast. An individual’s perception of things tended to change depending on their upbringing, so it probably wouldn’t be strange for some nobles to recoil before a supposedly impure mouse.

Almost immediately, I felt a mental kick from Edel, seemingly declaring he was, indeed, very much pure and clean. I thought back at him, informing my familiar this was more about appearances than reality. Seemingly satisfied, Edel went back to his affairs.

Sometimes I couldn’t help but feel Edel was a much more logical being than I ever could be.

“A Bronze-class adventurer taking on the Swamp of Tarasque... Not a very pleasant place, no doubt, but also not one Bronze-class adventurers would frequent, at least from what I have heard. May I ask what exactly it was you were doing there...?” Laura asked, apparently confused.

Did she not hear of my circumstances from Isaac, then? But of course, Isaac didn’t have any reason to inform his mistress of my personal motivations.

“There was a... request,” I answered plainly, “from the orphanage. Asking if I could pick... Just one Dragon Blood Blossom. For a... Single. Bronze coin.”

My brief description of the situation was probably more than enough for most adventurers to understand the circumstances. But Laura didn’t seem to share this understanding.

Tilting her head to one side, she continued on. “A trip to the Swamp of

Tarasque for one bronze piece...? I find that somewhat...” I suppose a more detailed explanation was in order.

“It was a request... From one of the. Orphanages in Maalt. That is just... How it is. Most adventurers... Would expect. Nothing more than a bronze... Piece. In return.”

As I may have mentioned before, orphanages weren’t swimming in pools of coin. Unable to offer an adequate reward, a token sum of one bronze coin was offered instead. It made perfect sense.

There was more to this reward, however, namely that the adventurer in question was content with taking volunteer work.

Since the adventurer’s guild was, for all intents and purposes, a profit- driven organization, such requests would normally never be officially fulfilled. But as history has proven, kind-hearted adventurers did show up across the ages, and they occasionally offered their assistance at the guilds they frequented. These acts of goodwill silently continued on today, and was a system of sorts in its own right.

Just as how there were problems that could only be solved by adventurers, or those with martial force in any given era, there would surely be individuals who couldn’t pay for their services. The adventurer’s guild, in turn, would decide to help out ever so slightly with these affairs, and these well- intentioned adventurers began accepting a token payment of one bronze piece for the sake of adequate record-keeping. One bronze coin was the lowest possible monetary reward a client could offer for services rendered by the guild’s adventurers, and it was a minimal reward that could at most only purchase two pieces of bread. But there was no rule in place stating that providing the absolute minimum was prohibited.

As long as one bronze coin was provided to the guild, the request would

be posted onto the boards, thus exposing it to adventurers. After the guild had first and foremost met the client, it was then up to the individual adventurer

to decide if they would take on the request, considering the potential gains and understanding the described situation on the request sheet. Should the services of an adventurer be required, the request would be approved. This made it so that, while the overall reward of the request was low, well- intentioned adventurers could volunteer to take on the case, eventually solving it should everything work out.

There were certainly some malicious or stingy parties who sought to

abuse this system of goodwill, but the guild was well-versed in weeding out false requests. Such requests would be evaluated to see if the client was truly in dire need of help. Should this not have been the case, the request would simply be discarded.

The system, by and large, functioned quite well.

Having finally concluded my explanation, Laura’s expression softened considerably, as if moved by the tale.

“I did not know such gentle-hearted adventurers existed in these lands.” I could hardly fault her for the assumption, seeing as adventurers didn’t exactly have the best of reputations. Even I was a suspicious, skull-masked

man in black robes. Few would look at me and go, “Oh, there be a gentle and kind adventurer!”

This was hardly about gentleness or kindness; I merely... Yes, I merely did what I could.

Adventurers, by nature of their career, often had close brushes with tragedy or death. Amidst all that, one would occasionally want the affirmation that they had done at least one good thing, so that was when such requests were accepted and voluntarily fulfilled—all for the price of one bronze piece.

Perhaps I wasn’t too different, with how I was clinging onto what remained of my humanity.

◆◇◆◇◆

With everything being said...this manor was really quite large. From its external appearance alone, I felt it was more of a castle as opposed to a manor of any kind, so maybe that much wasn’t exactly strange.

What was strange was how most of the mansion was relatively deserted. Although we passed by a servant or two, few people walked the halls of this grand manor. More accurately, the amount of people I passed by hardly seemed sufficient to maintain the general cleanliness of a mansion of this scale.

Curious, I raised the question to Laura, only to be told that each and every one of her servants were highly skilled and capable. While Isaac certainly seemed capable of the more worldly senses, skill alone couldn’t possibly maintain a mansion of this size. It would be physically impossible, I thought.

Observing my surroundings, I found that none of the hallways, walls, or even the hanging chandeliers seemed to have a single speck of dust on them. I looked around some more, and was forced to come to the conclusion that the Latuule manor hardly seemed understaffed.

“This way, if you would...”

Laura placed her hand on a heavy, metallic door, giving it a good push. The door opened effortlessly, revealing a winding passageway of downward- leading stone steps. I felt like I was walking into the depths of the underworld itself.

“Your... Basement, I suppose.”

“Yes. There are quite a few magical tools stored here, you see, with some infused with mana, spirit, and the like. There are, however, quite a few older artifacts among them, and we do take care to store our tools appropriately. As such, the temperature and humidity of our basement is regulated to provide

an optimal environment for storage.”

When it came to magical tools with somewhat complex inner mechanisms, most craftsmen simply had them infused with mana, hence reinforcing said tools. Most magical tools were made to be sturdy in the first place.

Just like how adventurers strengthened their bodies with mana and spirit for greater strength and endurance, the same could be done to a magical tool. This meant magical tools typically outlasted their more mundane counterparts, often for significant periods of time.

Due to their sturdier nature, certain magical tools that were treated as national treasures and handed down over the ages still looked somewhat new to the average observer. If one was careless or rough with a magical tool, however, it could very well break, much like any other mundane tool would.

Putting one foot before the other, I continued down the spiraling stone steps, following closely after Laura. Isaac followed after me, with the passageway being too narrow for two people.

There were no windows lining the walls, but I could faintly feel the air moving as we continued downward. Unseen lights methodically lit themselves as Laura continued on silently, flickering to life with the occasional puff. Magical tools as well, no doubt.

Light-bearing tools were easy to make and could be mass-produced for a relatively low price, but the sheer amount of them present in this passageway

surprised me. Since these lights lit up when in proximity of a person, I could fairly assume they cost more than the typical light tool did.

Looking at the Latuule family’s architectural choices alone, I wondered where exactly they had obtained such riches from—perhaps that was a question I could bring up later.

Our seemingly endless descent continued, only ending when Laura came to a stop before a single door.

Upon closer inspection, there appeared to be a board of some sort stuck to the door, made of a material I didn’t recognize. Laura held up her right hand, placing it onto the board without a word. Without warning, the entire door was enveloped by a bright glow before emitting a dull, clanking sound of something being unlocked.

“Well, then, let us enter,” Laura said, giving the handle of the door a push. It opened slowly, without much resistance. As I had thought, Laura’s

previous motions had unlocked some sort of unseen mechanism.

Beyond this door was a gaping, pitch-black maw, of which I could hardly see anything within its depths. Laura didn’t seem very afraid of this darkness at all, stepping through the door without a word.

Hesitating momentarily, I quickly followed after Laura, plunging into the deep unknown.

◆◇◆◇◆

Laura continued walking straight ahead, not stopping or showing any signs of reservation at the darkness around us.

Suddenly, she stopped once more— “Let there be light.”

At those words, I found myself blinded; we were surrounded, enveloped in an unreasonably bright light. My eyes took but a moment to adjust to my newly illuminated surroundings.

“This... This is. Amazing.”

I was surrounded by what appeared to be small hills of magical tools, somewhat haphazardly stacked on top of each other. Taking a closer look, I discovered they were, in fact, organized; their differing sizes and overwhelming numbers suggested to the viewer that the tools were stored in a

messy heap.

Laura, as if reading my mind, offered a quick explanation.

“Do keep in mind we have arranged our tools, yes. It was much...messier before, due to the fact they had just been thrown in here in the order of their acquisition. Now, however, most of the tools have been sorted by usage, era of production, craftsmen, or labyrinth of origin—all relevant variables. Given the sheer amount of them, and the presence of quite a few articles with an as of yet unknown purpose, it would take some time to finish sorting them all.”

Laura had a point—so filled was the room with tools that sorting through them would be time-consuming. Sorting magical tools wasn’t exactly like arranging one’s attic or storeroom, after all.

Among the tools was a particularly large object, at least three times as big as the average person. What did the tool do, and how did one move it, I wondered? Given Laura’s stature, having her move it would be impossible. Maybe Isaac assisted her with its transport?

The servants of the Latuule family seem to have their work cut out for them...

“You may choose one magical tool of your liking from within this room,” Laura continued. “All of these tools are first-rate—at least, I would like to

say that, but I cannot really be sure. Hopefully you have an eye for magical tools, Rentt.”

“What... Do you mean?” I asked Laura for an explanation.

“Perhaps you may already know of this, Rentt, but objects of true value are often mixed in with mere curiosities. In any case, magical tools that have caught my fancy are gathered in this room. It is difficult to say if the tools in question have any innate value, or if they are simply junk. While I do not mind if you choose something of your liking and take it with you, I can only assume an adventurer would want a somewhat useful magical tool, hence my initial warning.”

“I see...”

There were, in fact, some magical tools that merely specialized in floating or jumping in place. It would be a bad choice on my part if I had obtained a tool of no meaningful function even after my deliberate choice.

However, for me to discern between the supposed values of magical tools was somewhat difficult. I could recognize the more common types of tools used in daily life, but many of the tools at my feet were foreign in

appearance. If I had to guess, the greater half of these tools were purchased at auctions, and were probably one of a kind; in which case, just looking at the tools wouldn’t be of much help.

Thinking about the matter for a while, I soon decided to ask Laura for some assistance.

“If there is something that catches your attention, all you have to do is ask. I will explain what I know of its functions to you. Of course, in some cases even I would not know what the tool does...therefore, you would have to be the one who makes the final choice.”

“I am... Grateful. For your hospitality. I do wonder, however... Why did. You gather... Tools like these?” Logically speaking, if one didn’t know what a magical tool did, it would be little more than a piece of scrap.

Laura promptly responded with laughter at my question.

“I simply like to gather things, of course! If I can have it, I’ll take it! That’s all there is to it,” she responded, amused.

I suppose I could understand Laura’s motivations; in some ways, it was a sort of universal truth, especially among the nobility and the rich merchant families. With so much disposable wealth at their fingertips, many of these individuals naturally turned to collecting items. They could collect just about anything—locks and the magical crystals of Goblins, and even Goblins themselves. One hears of these eccentric individuals and their habits from time to time.

Such collections were interesting in their own right, but the common observer would find it strange instead. As long as the collector in question enjoyed their venture, then all was well, so I suppose asking for a justification was simply part of the human condition.

In cases like these, however, there were sometimes no real answers; the collector wanted to collect, and that was that.

It was easy to understand the Latuule family’s magical tool collection habit—and if I could somehow profit by selecting a rare tool, I wouldn’t be one to complain.

◆◇◆◇◆

“What is... This?”

Walking around the room, a certain object caught my attention. It was

disc-like—or perhaps it was more of a cylinder—and lying on its side. Curious, I pointed at it, and Laura promptly nodded, offering a swift explanation.

“That would be more a model of some sort, as opposed to a magical tool. A model of a craft that carries its master across the lands: an airship. It moves in much the same way as a real one would, too—if you just do this...”

Laura picked up a magic crystal which had been next to the little flying model in question before inserting it into the object. After infusing the assembled item with some mana, Laura seemed momentarily lost in thought, holding some unseen object in her hands. With that, the steam spouted forth from the little model, launching it into the air.

“In reality,” Laura continued, “airships that fly across these lands nowadays are powered not by mana, but by steam. Technically speaking, it is not really a model, but perhaps a toy of some sort that was meant to imitate the functions of an airship.”

Even I had heard of airships at some point in my adventuring career—not that I had ever ridden on one. As Laura had said, these airships flew across the lands, but they hardly had a reason to dock in a rural border kingdom like Yaaran. I did hear of airships turning up during festivals in the capital on occasion, but that was the extent of it.

In addition, the fares and freight charges for transporting goods on an airship were adequately high, so those on board were mainly individuals with significant financial power. As a Bronze-Class adventurer, it goes without saying that I had never encountered any clients of that social class, so I had a relative unfamiliarity with airships.

Looking up at the little flying model airship darting this way and that, however, I could feel that traveling on a real airship could be quite the experience.

The object that Laura held in her hands seemed to be a decorative stone carving of sorts, and if I had to guess, that would be the device with which one controlled the little flying airship.

“Would you like to try moving it?” Laura said, holding out the item. I

nodded eagerly.

It was quite a simple device. All one had to do was hold the carving and think of the direction and altitude one wished the little airship to travel at. It didn’t take long for me to appreciate its addictive nature. Only mages who

had mastered special kinds of magecraft were able to fly through the air like this little model airship did. Maybe it would be more accurate to say that humanity itself idolized flight in some capacity.

While one could easily travel through the clouds on the deck of an airship, I hardly had the financial capability to do so. As such, having the ability to move this model airship through the skies was quite the delight.

“Enjoying yourself, I presume?” Laura asked, her eyes following the airship as it darted this way and that.

I promptly nodded. “...Yes. Almost makes me... Want to take it home.” “I see. Would you settle for this model airship then?”

“...No, perhaps not.”

While I wanted so much to take it home, bringing a toy with no other notable function back with me was somewhat... Well, while the youth inside me would have gladly settled for such a thing, the adult vehemently disagreed, claiming I should choose a tool that would assist me in my daily life.

But of course, the adult was right.

Yes, perhaps you are right, inner adult. But is work and common sense all there is to life? Is that true fun? the youth defiantly asked.

Well... Hm. Yes, there was that, too. In any case, I should really refrain, as much as it pained me to do so...

Just as I had made up my mind, Laura interrupted me, apparently having more to say about the little airship.

“Since you are having such fun, why not try using its other functions? Try focusing your thoughts on the airship itself.”

I followed Laura’s instructions obediently. Without warning, the scene before my eyes promptly disappeared, being replaced with quite the strange sight—I seemed to be looking downward from the airship itself. From this vantage point, I could see a robed, masked man and a beautiful young girl next to him.

.

“What... What. Is this?”

My momentary panic broke my concentration, and before I knew it, my vision had returned to normal. Before me stood Laura, who continued her explanation of the airship’s functions.

“That little airship does more than just fly; it is capable of temporarily hosting its controller’s consciousness. Although I called it a model, that was not quite accurate. In truth, the airships across the land were made in the image of this little one here. This one is the original, so to speak. It was born from the depths of a labyrinth, after all.”

In other words, the grand airships that sailed across the great kingdoms and countries of the lands were nothing more than an imitation of this little toy-like craft floating in this room.

With that said, most magical tools in the lands were made in a similar fashion, being inspired by labyrinth finds. Even so, contemporary airships were powered by steam, not magic, so I suppose completely copying the intricate mechanisms of this little device was beyond the current capabilities of man.

Magical tools found in the depths of a labyrinth were notoriously difficult to understand, even after detailed analysis and dissection. Most of the time, though, it was within the means of mankind to create an object that was somewhat similar in function. But the ability to host one’s consciousness was quite remarkable in itself.

I focused my mind on the craft once more, and almost immediately, I was treated to a bird’s-eye view of the room we were in. This was no longer just some toy. If anything, it was a terribly useful tool. With this, I would be able to observe faraway locations from the air. It would be an invaluable implement for scouting.

Yes, this was no longer just some toy. Laura seemed to agree with my thoughts.

“Well, yes, I suppose it could be used in such a fashion. Do take note, though... Since it is powered by mana, it would be difficult for it to travel great distances. One would be wise to choose when to use it; for instance, when scouting the path ahead, or for a short survey of the area from the air. It is capable of that much.”

Laura had a point. While she had infused the magic crystal with a fair amount of mana just now, I could feel there wasn’t much fuel left in the

device. I suppose it could fly for about five minutes at best, as it seemed difficult for the little airship to stay in the air for any longer than that.

If it couldn’t travel long distances, its consciousness-shifting function wouldn’t be all that useful after all. Maybe if one had deep reserves of mana it would be usable in some capacity. Considering Laura had used quite a

large crystal to begin with, I surmised that all my mana would only be able to power this tool for ten minutes, at most.

“...I think it. Is... A pretty good. Tool.”

“Well, then, I suppose this one does not quite fit your tastes?” Laura asked, somewhat patiently.

I stopped to think before giving my answer.

“...No, but I would... Not. Rule it out just yet. I might end up... Taking this one. In the end.”

Although I wouldn’t be able to get much out of it now, it was possible I

would be able to in the future, when my mana reserves grew in capacity.

Above all else...it was fun to watch the little airship fly about. Not the main reason for my choice, of course, but I couldn’t deny that I wanted to play with it and have it zip through the air.

In any case, I suppose I should direct my attention to the other items present. Accompanied by Laura and Isaac, I continued walking through the spacious basement.

◆◇◆◇◆

“...It seems like. There is nothing but... Junk parts in this. Area of the room,” I muttered to myself, as I continued wandering about the Latuule family’s basement.

Stopping at a corner, I reached out to touch some scattered objects, curious about their purpose. Laura immediately panicked, attempting to stop me.

“Ah! No, you mustn’t touch that!”

Her words were unfortunately a second too late. My hand had already touched the foot of what appeared to be a gigantic pile of scrap parts. Before I knew it, the previously gray parts suddenly took on a chromatic gleam.

Upon closer inspection, I had touched a magic crystal of sorts. Its mana had previously been completely drained, and it had lost its sheen. With a

single brush of the hand, however, the crystal had apparently regained enough power, and it was now glowing dimly.

I couldn’t see why this was cause for any alarm, for occurrences like this were very common when it came to magical tools. But Laura didn’t seem to share my sentiment.

“Mister Vivie...do try your best to hold out for a little while. I will search for the kill switch immediately. It has to be somewhere around here! Quickly!”

She darted this way and that, frantically searching for something. Confused, I attempted to approach Laura, only to walk headfirst into some sort of obstruction. I stopped in my tracks.

“This is...”

I squinted, inspecting the space before me. While it was transparent, it also gave off a faint, magical glow—an invisible wall, born of magecraft and mana. Mages commonly used such spells to protect themselves, much like

the Shield spell I was fond of using. This kind of spell had many names, often depending on the scale and shape of the wall in question.

Withdrawing a small rock from my magical pouch, I gave it a good toss, only to have it bounce merrily in the air, deflected by the shield. By its trajectory, the shield was probably seven or eight meters wide, and was shaped like a dome. It would seem like I had been trapped within it.

But that in and of itself wasn’t exactly a huge problem. If this shield appeared because of me previously touching the crystal, then it would disappear as soon as the mana in the device ran out. Judging by Laura’s panicked expression, though, I could tell this was much more serious than just some silly accident. In fact...

“...Hey. What... What is that?!”

The crystal I carelessly touched moments ago had now gathered a collection of objects around it; objects that were moving and pulsating, as if they had a life of their own. The objects rearranged themselves this way and that, soon giving birth to a larger, more coherent form. Looking at its overall silhouette, I understood the resultant item was...sizable, to say the least.

“...A... Golem?!”

Golems were magical puppets of sorts, born from magical techniques or alchemy. They were powered by mana and were capable of independent action even when separated from their creators. Due to these characteristics,

Golems could be fielded in a variety of ways, and could perform a variety of tasks. Unfortunately, the parts required to make Golems were costly in general, and few alchemists were capable of creating Golems customized to specific tasks. Even so, Golems could be seen in some parts of the lands, and they sometimes appeared as enemies in certain labyrinths. They were a familiar sight to most adventurers.

In those circumstances, however, the Golems would be made of earth or rock, given life by primal magics. These primal Golems made up more than half of the Golems encountered by adventurers in labyrinths. Golems made of intricate parts didn’t appear in less challenging labyrinths. Golems made of iron or steel did exist, and in some rare cases, eyewitness accounts reported similar beings, albeit made with gold or mithril. One would make a small fortune if one successfully defeated such a Golem, discounting the fact that it was a fearsome foe.

I was in no position to defeat such a Golem. What, then, could I make of the being that now stood before me?

A high-leveled disaster of a Golem, no doubt, judging from its parts and overall appearance. While I had previously assumed it was made up of scrap parts, I was very much mistaken. The parts comprising its body were none other than the various magical tools Laura had collected. A strange type of rock and sand filled in the gaps in its being—that was what I thought.

But this wasn’t the case, given this was a dedicated storage room for magical tools. As such, this mysterious substance was neither rock nor sand, but some special material, enchanted by some unknown magic.

I had to be adequately cautious with this Golem, for a single mistake could be fatal.

With a final, solid clank, the room fell silent. It seemed like the Golem had finished preparing itself. It was now hardly a gathering of scrap items, but a large, humanoid weapon, armed to the teeth with magical tools of all shapes and sizes. Its arm had several magical cannons attached to it—Canon Douramage, as they were called. Its face, if one could call it a face, was similarly constructed, albeit with several thinner magical rifles, commonly known as Fuyuj Douramage. Both implements were capable of firing magic- enchanted bullets, Bal, from their barrels. These bullets allowed for the instant casting of magic. While ancient and contemporary versions of these tools existed, the ones in the Golem were decidedly modern.

To top it all off, its hands were armed with all sorts of swords and daggers

—makeshift claws, perhaps. It was truly armed to the teeth. To make things worse, none of these weapons were mundane in any way. They were all enchanted magical tools in their own right.

If there was ever a personification of violence, there would surely be limits, but this Golem paid said limits no heed.

I suppose this was why Laura was panicked earlier; if I had the option, I would immediately run. The shield, however, prevented me from doing anything of the sort. All I could do was run around and distract the monster as Laura looked for its kill switch. As I was now, there was nothing else I could possibly do.

“GRRRAAAAAAGHHH!!!”

It was even armed with a mechanism to perfectly replicate a large monster’s roar, possibly for intimidating its foes.

I wasn’t exactly intimidated in any way, but I had no idea what I should do next. The Golem didn’t seem to care that I was overwhelmed by the situation at hand; with a few thunderous steps, the Golem moved, and our eyes promptly met.

It seemed like the Golem’s large size hardly slowed it down, and before I knew it, a fist was soon violently thrown toward me in a sweeping arc. I quickly jumped to the side, barely dodging the blow. The Golem’s fist impacted with where I had just stood moments ago, crushing the tiles beneath the weight of its blow.

“If I get hit... With that. Even I...”

While I was hoping for my undead nature to be of use in this engagement, I didn’t ever recall hearing of an Undead coming back to life after it had been minced to bits. Vampires were capable of such techniques, but they were unfortunately unknown to me at this point in time. Either way, I wasn’t keen on relying on a still unknown technique.

“Mister Vivie! I should be able to find it in the next three minutes or so! Please hold on! Isaac! Do you remember where it is?”

“Unfortunately not. It should be somewhere in this area...”

Voices could pass through this shield, and from what Isaac and Laura were saying, it sounded like the all-important device was still eluding their grasp. In that time, I would have to continue avoiding the Golem’s attacks.

I had a lot more to be concerned about in addition to its fists and large

body. If I was careless, I could easily be stomped on, as well. To make things worse, it was now firing its magical guns and cannons, slinging all sorts of spells in my general direction.

Fortunately, those tools didn’t seem to be of a very good make, as they either had painfully low accuracy or power. Even so, if any of those spells were to hit a human-sized target such as myself, it would surely be fatal. I couldn’t let my guard down.

“...Damn. It. Is there... Any way...”

I could continue dodging and escaping as long as I had the stamina, but my focus would eventually slip.

Can I do anything to slow it down? Damage it in some way, maybe...? Come to think of it...

Lorraine happened to be somewhat of a specialist when it came to Golems, being an alchemist and all that. If I recalled correctly, Lorraine said something along the lines of...

“Listen here, Rentt. All Golems have a certain engraving on their forehead, some mystic letters symbolizing the ‘truth.’ Interestingly, the engraving is but one stroke away from another word, that being ‘death.’ If you fill in the appropriate stroke, the Golem will promptly self-destruct. As such, if you ever do come across such a Golem, Rentt, look carefully at its forehead.”

Yes, Lorraine did say something to that effect... As expected of a scholar, she offered truly useful information.

I looked up at the Golem’s forehead. “...Hey. There’s... Nothing written. There!”

In response to my pitiful monologue, the Golem swung at me once more, its large fist flying in my general direction. I had intended to dodge once more, but something caught my eye. In place of a joint, what appeared to be a visible kind of immaterial magic connected the Golem’s arm to its body. I instead instinctively did the exact opposite of dodging and leaped upward, thrusting my sword into the flickering sigils. With that simple stroke, the Golem’s left arm promptly fell off its main body, falling lifelessly to the ground.

Yes, quite a stroke of luck.

Golems felt no pain, and wouldn’t change their movement patterns to reflect any damage taken. Now that it was an arm short, however, its attacks

became easy to predict.

If it only had one arm, I’d be able to dodge its attacks indefinitely...

Relieved, I relaxed ever so slightly, and it was at this moment yet another of Lorraine’s teachings crossed my mind.

“Well, you may think it is simple, Rentt, but such a mechanism would only work on a basic Golem. To begin with, this function was originally designed by the craftsmen to stop a rampaging Golem—an emergency kill switch, if you would. Recent Golems, however, often have an external device paired with it which does the same thing but is commonly found in a separate chassis. This is why you should not be looking only at a Golem’s forehead, Rentt. Instead, you should be searching for where its kill switch may potentially be located. Failing that, you could always defeat it with brute force...”

Yes... Yes, of course. Laura was searching for that very device right now...

Ack! This means there really IS nothing I can do!

In any case, I had deprived it of an arm. I suppose I could go for its other...or I thought so, at least.

The Golem, as if reading my thoughts, stared daggers at me. I suppose I

should give that idea a rest. For now, escape was the best option.

I didn’t know how much time passed between then and now... “...Haha. So you have... Finally. Cornered me.”

Thanks to the Golem’s relentless rampage, its surroundings were reduced to debris and rubble, and standing in the middle of this heap of broken tiles and dust was none other than myself.

The Golem slowly raised its fist.

Have I exhausted every single option?

No. I still had one more ace up my sleeve.

Steeling myself, I infused my weapon with mana. I didn’t want to use this technique in front of Isaac and Laura, but I hardly had a choice.

Slowly, the Golem’s fist descended upon me. I raised my sword, ready for the worst.

“STOP!”

As Laura’s voice rang out across the basement, the Golem froze, as if fossilizing in place. In the very next moment, it had stopped moving. At the same time, the magical shield around me faded, and the Golem, now no

longer able to maintain its form, crumbled into an odd collection of items, dust, and rock.

It seemed like we made it in time.

Almost immediately, Laura and Isaac approached me, and Laura herself stood before me.

“I do apologize... We took quite a while to find the mechanism in question... If only we had found it sooner.”

Laura lowered her head in apparent remorse, but none of this was exactly her fault.

“...No. I was the one who... Touched the strange object. In the first place. What exactly... was that?”

I should have asked Laura what the object was before touching it, so no matter how one looked at it, the blame fell squarely on myself.

With that, her previously hardened expression softened, a warm smile returning to her face.

“Ah, yes. That is a Golem, as you can see... Unlike its more normal relatives, all it would need is a tiny bit of magical power. Once it has that, it will continue absorbing mana from its surroundings, taking in materials of a higher grade than itself. It would eventually become stronger as a result. The shield that encased the both of you was absorbed by the Golem, who had used it to entrap you. I do offer my most humble of apologies...”

What a terrifying weapon... As long as it had an opponent, its surroundings were engulfed in chaos.

“It is... My fault, Laura. Don’t... Worry. About it. However... Can something like. That. Be easily made...?”

“Well... No. It was born from a labyrinth, and it cost quite a sum of coin. I

suppose there is no other tool like it.”

A one-of-a-kind magical tool from the depths of the labyrinths.

I suppose most items would simply reappear over time. This specific Golem, however, had only appeared once. It would be reasonable to assume that Laura would simply purchase any other copy that surfaced. If I had to guess, it was through this research that she declared it unique.

“On another... Note. Are there any other magical... Tools. Like that, in this basement...?”

“About that...” Laura averted her gaze at my question. I suppose that was a yes.

Now, more than ever, did I realize carelessly touching these tools brought about their own brand of danger.

What a dangerous basement...

Laura, as if understanding my concerns, quickly reassured me. “Rest assured, I will be sure to inform you when we are ever next to such an object again. Please do not worry...”

“...Yes. That would be... Much. Appreciated.”

Although that was a sincere response on my part, I couldn’t shake the fact that none of this would have happened if I was a little more careful. I should really reign in that carefree attitude of mine...

I promptly decided to change the subject.

“Even so... A Golem that absorbs other. Magical tools and... Uses them. Is a truly fearsome... Creature.”

“The alchemy of the time probably made assembling such a Golem possible, but it is indeed difficult for something to integrate and use so many objects at once. The ability to absorb magic from its surroundings is not an ability that most common Golems possess. To make matters worse, this basement is full of magical tools that are infused with mana in some way or another, which is why it began moving so quickly... I should really reconsider storing that thing in another facility,” Laura said, nodding.

“Back to the subject at hand, Mister Vivie. You do not seem injured, so would you like to continue selecting a magical tool? If you are tired, I do not mind seeing you on another day...”

As Laura said, I wasn’t hurt or battered in any way. In fact, it was good exercise. Seeing as to how I still drew breath and was relatively well, I supposed I should continue with the selection process.

“No... I am. Fine. If you are... All right with it, Laura. I would like to continue.”

Honestly speaking, part of the basement seemed ready to cave in at any moment, having sustained significant damage from the battle. But Laura dismissed my worries with a few claps of her hands. Out of nowhere, a small team of servants appeared, and they soon began clearing away the rubble. What surprised me more wasn’t the immediate arrival of said servants, but the fact that they were all using magical tools.

“There are no problems on my end, no.” Laura turned to me, smiling. “Well, then, shall we continue...?”

We began walking once more, venturing deeper into the basement.

◆◇◆◇◆

And so it came to be that I was able to inspect many magical tools.

The sheer variety of the Latuule family’s collection impressed me; other than the model airship, there was the shielding device which had trapped me earlier, as well as a tool that granted one buoyancy. There were also tools for the nullification of all types of poisons, a weapon that crystallized mana into a physical blade, a suit of armor that fought by its master’s side as long as it

was fed with mana...and even a blowpipe of sorts that launched fireballs at its unfortunate target. To think such tools could even exist!

To me, two tools caught my fancy: the little airship, and a magical tool that was capable of altering its wielder’s voice. The airship was...enjoyable; truly, in many aspects. But the latter was a tool that could do my raspy voice some favors. The problem was that I would one day outgrow such a tool.

“Have you made up your mind?” Laura asked, her gracious demeanor hardly dented in the face of my hesitation and prolonged thoughts.

I was grateful for her hospitality, but I really was taking a little too long. Unfortunate as it was, and as remorseful as I was, this was an important choice.

I had no choice but to accept the circumstances, and hope Laura’s patience held true. But Laura didn’t really seem fazed by my endless deliberation.

“In truth... I am. Quite troubled, thinking about... These choices. Hm...?” Rubbing my chin with a free hand idly, my eyes came to rest on quite a

few...unusual objects in the basement. I didn’t bother hiding my curiosity, posing the question to Laura almost immediately.

“What. Is that?”

“Ahhh... Yes. Well, as you can see, Mister Vivie. That is a monster material. While not magical tools, I am somewhat taken by their intricacies, and I have a small collection of them as a result.”

I gazed at the objects in question. The amount was by no means “small,” but perhaps the Latuules simply had a different sense of scale. The scales of a dragon, a unicorn’s horn, the bones of giants... Valuable materials were stacked on top of each other, or stashed into little nooks and crannies here

and there. They were all worth a good sum of coin.

Truly impressive.

I continued inspecting the pile, only to stop at a certain object. Following my line of vision, Laura preempted me with a question of her own.

“Perhaps that one over there is to your liking?” “Yes... Perhaps.”

Laura retrieved the item as I nodded, holding it out before me. It was a long, slim, crystalline container with a dark, crimson liquid sealed within its confines.

“This is a vial of Vampire’s blood,” Laura continued. “A material commonly used in the crafting of magical medicines, as an alchemical catalyst, or for the crafting of weapons, equipment, and the like...”

◆◇◆◇◆

“While I can offer no assurance as to if the fluid within is truly the blood of a Vampire, that matters little to me as I was more interested in the vessel itself. It is a magical tool that preserves its contents for a long period of time, which was why I picked it up at one auction or another.”

“You... Do not. Care about the fluid within?”

Laura’s statement was understandable in light of the Latuule family’s tendencies where magical tools came first, and magical materials second. Even so, a Vampire’s blood wasn’t a mundane item.

Gathering blood from a Vampire that had freshly reappeared in a labyrinth was possible, but in most cases didn’t happen. If they were left to their own devices, Vampires had a tendency to form large and complicated webs of relations, connecting familiars and slaves alike with the power of blood. If a Lesser Vampire was to evolve any further, the chances of it being easily captured quickly became slim. Matured Vampires in particular were difficult to discern from normal human beings, and they lived very long lives. Some Vampires even wielded positions of immense social power across the lands, and were difficult to deal with.

In other words, one couldn’t extract the blood of a Vampire just because one desired to do so. As such, I couldn’t help but be surprised at Laura’s dismissive statement, but alas, considering her love and interest for magical tools, this much was to be expected. To me, however, the vial in her hands

was worth its weight in gold—possibly a little more.

Despite her lack of interest, Laura soon provided a more detailed explanation of the vial’s contents.

“Well, Mister Vivie. Rumor has it the blood of a Vampire grants one eternal life if consumed, turning the person in question into another Vampire, so to speak. Silly nobles who desire eternal life often purchase such items— and of course, it can be sold to individuals of that nature for a good sum.”

“A... Rumor?”

Even I had heard of such rumors: if a human being was bitten by a Vampire and injected with some of its blood, said human would become a Vampire in their own right. Edel was a good example, for he had consumed my blood and had become an existence that was somewhat close to mine. Even familiars were Vampires, but I suppose there was some distinction in the classifications that I wasn’t aware of.

In any case...

“But the veracity of these claims is debatable. Records of individuals who have imbibed Vampire blood do indeed exist, but said records also mention them losing their minds, and in some cases even dying. In other cases, they merely became invalids for the rest of their lives. Even if, hypothetically, there were individuals who succeeded at the venture, no records detailing such events were left behind. After all, Vampires are immortals; who else would openly declare they were Vampires to the civilized world at large?”

A situation I could relate to very well on a personal level, no doubt, seeing as I didn’t have a habit of announcing my undead constitution to the general public. Some people particularly close to me were aware of my secret, but even I wouldn’t leave records chronicling my evolutionary prospects for posterity.

“I suppose.”

“Therefore, it is simply a rumor—no more, no less. Even so, when faced with the possibilities of immortal life or becoming an invalid, people seemed willing to take such gambles. At the very least, these individuals seem to exist no matter the era, which is why this little vial would command quite a respectable price...”

Laura’s tone of voice was visibly scornful, not that I could blame her for such a view. For one reason or another, Laura seemed to think those who sought eternal life so recklessly were nothing more than fools; at least, that

was what her demeanor suggested. Was that really true?

While I didn’t think eternal life was necessarily a bad thing, my more mortal associates would eventually grow old and pass on, leaving me to witness their passing time and time again. Would my heart eventually rot and give out at the loss of all those I held dear? I couldn’t deny such a possibility. Even if I lived forever, those around me would still be claimed by death. I suppose I would be sad, but the impact would be small. Small, yes, but repeated twice? Thrice? Hundreds, thousands of times...?

I felt a little disillusioned at the prospect of eternal life. If I couldn’t return to my previously human self, would such a day eventually come to pass? Would I see Lorraine and Sheila grow old and pass on, their dying moments reflected in these very eyes?

It seemed...lonely, and painful. On the other hand, it wasn’t something I could realistically imagine at this point in time. Was having eternal life a blessing or a curse? Until I live for a long enough time, I suppose I would never be able to tell.

I shifted my attention back to the vial of Vampire blood Laura had in her hands. For some reason, I was filled with a strong...desire. This was the same feeling that overcame me when I had taken a bite out of Lorraine’s shoulder...right before my evolution into a Thrall.

I could chalk up my reaction to a simple desire for blood as sustenance, but I couldn’t discount the possibility in my mind. Namely, the possibility that the vial in her hands was exactly what I needed for my next Existential Evolution.

In retrospect, I had defeated quite a few monsters in the Swamp of Tarasque, and for all intents and purposes, they were strong beasts. But despite the sheer amount of monsters I had slain, and the amount of life force I had absorbed, I was still nothing more than a Thrall. There was the slight possibility I had simply not slain my fair share, but I had a feeling I wasn’t meeting certain conditions that, if met, would herald my continued evolution.

Before I had come to this place, I hardly could have imagined what this missing ingredient was. But now, in her hands...

A vial of Vampire blood...

If I consumed that, I would surely evolve, possibly transcending my current state of existence.

Was this my instinct at work...? The instinct that was pushing me toward

this vial was significantly weaker than when I was possessed into taking a bite out of Lorraine. This was perhaps due to my heightened sense of self, in addition to my logical faculties being largely intact. If anything, I wasn’t about to be possessed and snatch the vial out of Laura’s hands.

In any case, I was now sure of what I wanted.

I was a creature that sustained itself with blood. Maybe I was just being gluttonous, and that fancy vial made its contents look all the more delicious; I couldn’t overlook that possibility. It was also entirely possible that nothing would happen even if I drank the blood, but I suppose that was how possibilities worked.

If I let this opportunity slip through my fingers, I would have to capture a Vampire in my own time, which wasn’t an easy feat. I had little choice in the matter, and thus made up my mind.

“...I would like. This.”

“This vial of Vampire’s blood? You never cease to amaze me with your interesting choices, Mister Vivie...”

Laura’s eyes opened wide in surprise. It seemed like Laura had assumed I would choose something else—the little airship, I suppose, given how much fun I was having with it. There were also many other magical tools that would have assisted me one way or another, like assorted weapons, tools of convenience, and others. Even if Vampire blood could be made into medicines or elixirs, I suppose few would ask for and consume it just to see what would happen.

I could sell it, of course, but there were many other magical tools in this basement, some of which would fetch a lot more coin. In light of my personal circumstances, however, this was undoubtedly the most sensible choice.

“A personal interest of yours, perhaps? Or is there a deeper reason to your choice?”

“...An associate, of mine. Conducts research into the... Biological. Aspects of monsters. I suppose she would... Appreciate. A specimen like this.”

This was, without question, a lie. I was referring to Lorraine, and taking her work into consideration, there was some truth in my statement, actually. But there was no way I could tell Laura the truth of the matter, hence my purposefully ambiguous phrasing.

Laura seemed to understand there was a deeper meaning to my words. Furrowing her brows momentarily, she stared straight at me for a while,

before finally relenting, a smile lighting up her face.

“Is that right...? In that case, Mister Vivie, I shall grant unto you this gift. You will receive the vessel with it, too. Two birds with one stone, if you think about it.”

◆◇◆◇◆

It goes without saying, but I wasn’t about to open the vessel and empty its contents before Laura and Isaac.

Drinking Vampire blood like it was a potion in front of nobles! The nerve!

Still, I couldn’t deny I had considered doing it, but the medicine in my hands was something that could turn a normal, functional human being into an invalid should anything go wrong. No normal human would drink it so eagerly, and perhaps not in a single gulp. At the very least, I would like to

believe such a human being couldn’t possibly exist. I was already strange and somewhat suspicious in terms of appearance, so I had no desire to exacerbate that problem and leave a strange impression upon my hosts.

“Well, then... Shall we return to the surface? We have what we came for.” I nodded in response.

We were soon backtracking, climbing up the spiraling stone steps. While I felt pangs of regret at the little airship I left behind, I had already made my choice. As much as it pained me, I could only give up on the tool, following Laura out of the chamber.

If what Laura said was true, the little airship was born from the depths of a labyrinth, so with any luck, I might come across a similar item in my travels, as well. I would be hard-pressed to say there would be absolutely no possibility of coming across another one.

Endure it, Rentt. Endure it with your heart and soul...

I dragged my heavy feet reluctantly upward, step after step, as Laura led me further and further away from the little airship that had so captivated my mind.

◆◇◆◇◆

Upon returning to the surface, I was guided to what appeared to be a reception parlor of sorts. As expected, every piece of furniture and décor in

this room was first-rate, those being uniquely-crafted items made by famous craftspeople and ateliers in the capital that even I had heard of.

I even recalled seeing some of these items in famous auctions I had attended before. They were hardly items someone like me could be purchasing, but I had felt that some of these items would look impressive on my mantelpiece. Such a day never did come, and I eventually gave up on the prospect, only to find these very same items in a manor I just so happened to visit. Life was strange in its own amusing way.

“Well, then, I suppose we should move on to the actual topic at hand. You are, after all, not here to play around, are you, Mister Vivie?” Laura said, seemingly apologizing for having led me on a wild goose chase around the rose-hedge maze.

I was only here because Isaac asked for me by name, and I didn’t sign up to be locked up in some maze and have my efforts observed. Even so, such practices weren’t uncommon among nobles, who were fond of testing those they invited to their homes.

Even if a close associate claimed a certain adventurer had skill, I suppose it was always more preferable to witness it for oneself. In most cases, the client would request the adventurer or hired hand in question fight a champion of their choice, or to fetch some special item before they were given the actual task. This was by no means an admirable practice. But most of these noble clients had ridiculous amounts of wealth and clout, with the rewards being enough to make even the most seasoned adventurer stand still and gape.

To some, there was little to be lost in accepting such a challenge, so such practices were silently, and sometimes grudgingly accepted. I had even received a gift from Laura for my troubles, though many nobles tested individuals they hired without reward, with some even haughtily declaring the act of being tested itself an honor. While these clients would no longer have many adventurers to do their bidding for them after the fact, such cases were still heard of from time to time.

An adventurer and their client should be on equal standing, as was the view of the guild at large.

“I would not... Mind. If you played with me in. Such a fashion, again. In fact... How about. I give that labyrinth one more... Run. Would I receive... Another gift. For my trouble?”

“Aha!” Laura laughed merrily at my cheeky suggestion. “You never cease to amuse me, Mister Vivie. Do you like that little airship so much? There are many other tools that would serve you better, you know.”

She saw through my silly charade almost instantly.

But she wasn’t wrong. If Laura really permitted it, I would gladly take on that rose-hedge maze again, even if it took the entire day, and the next morning. That was how much I wanted the little airship.

“It is not... About if. It is useful. I just... Desire it, greatly. I really... Want it. That is all. After all... Is that not. What collecting is... About?”

Laura nodded sagely at my statement. “Yes, verily so. To think I would meet a comrade with similar interests in these very halls... Ah, but unfortunately, Mister Vivie, the maze is usually a one-off affair for most, and so...”

An ancient tradition of the Latuule family, perhaps, or maybe just one of Laura’s whims. I didn’t know the exact reasons behind it, but I could only assume that an individual conquering the maze multiple times and claiming multiple tools as gifts would eventually empty the vault...so to speak.

If that was the case...

No! The little airship would be forever out of my grasp!

The shock to my psyche was immense; it even rivaled the shock I had felt when I realized I would probably forever be a Bronze-class adventurer. Such was the magnitude of my disappointment. I felt a deep sense of loss...

It was something I usually didn’t think of, something that didn’t cross my mind. But... Ah. The sheer impact of this reality upon my soul... I felt a deep, bittersweet sorrow within my heart.

No, Rentt. You must set your mind upon other things, and work toward your goals. Greater, more long-term goals.

Or at least, I tried. I promptly failed...

I was, and still am, in absolute shock. I suppose I looked extremely pitiful to Laura, who was looking in my direction with a mix of compassion and amusement.

“The little airship is part of the Latuule family’s collection...and I do have some personal attachment to it. However, if you desire it so much, there may be certain...ways...” Laura said, now seemingly disturbed by my apparent obsession.

At her words, I slowly raised my head, staring straight at her as I stopped

wriggling my fingers.

“Returning to the subject at hand, Mister Vivie,” Laura continued. “You are here today because you have been asked for by name to perform a certain task, that being the regular retrieval of Dragon Blood Blossoms. I suppose you understand that much?”

“Yes. However, the client...”

“Ah, yes. The client would be Isaac. But surely, you would have already deduced the truth of the matter after meeting me.”

“...Yes. I understand the true... Client. Is you, Laura.”

If it really was a request issued by Isaac, all he had to do was meet me in person. He could tell Laura the adventurer was here, and there would be no real need for his mistress to speak to me. Isaac could have explained the terms of the agreement.

Upon meeting with Laura, however, I immediately understood the nature of the affair. It was just an assumption, for I didn’t presume to know the truth by any means, but it seemed like I was largely correct.

Laura went on. “I consume those Dragon Blood Blossoms—well, their extract, if I may say so—at regular intervals. This was why Isaac had been picking them for me in the Swamp of Tarasque. However, poor Isaac seems

to be a little overworked as of late, and as his mistress, I suppose I would like to give him some time off.”

Laura had a point; to maintain a mansion of this size and regularly brave the Swamp of Tarasque was no small feat. I could only imagine the burden it exacted upon Isaac and the other servants of the Latuule family.

Though, I suppose that wasn’t entirely correct. Isaac was the only one who ventured into the swamp, so the burden perhaps rested solely on his shoulders.

The manor’s maintenance is a herculean task in its own right... And on top of that, he had to regularly brave the swamp?

If I were to make some educated guesses about how the servants did their cleaning, I couldn’t even begin to imagine the exact details of such a process.

“If I... Take this request. Would Isaac... Be able to rest. A little easier?” “Why, yes. Well, Isaac himself is of such an opinion. While he does have

quite a lot of work to do here at the manor, I should make it known that Isaac is one of my most capable servants. If you could save him the trouble of exploring the swamp so often, I am sure he would have more time to rest.

That is all there is to it, really.”

Isaac, for his part, remained silent, merely turning to the both of us and nodding at opportune times.

Hmm. I suppose that’s fine...

I hadn’t come all this way wanting to be deeply embroiled in the personal circumstances of the Latuule family, nor should I read too deeply into it. Isaac having a little more time to himself was a good thing, yet completely unrelated to my interests.

What was truly important to me, Rentt Faina, was that little model airship. “I... See. If I do this... Task. For you. Then, the little airship...”

I had meant to ask what Laura’s views on the matter were, but she seemed to have already made up her mind.

“If you accept the task, then yes, Mister Vivie. You may have the little airship. Ah, of course, this has no impact on the original sum of coin we have agreed upon in the contract. Rest assured, your reward is intact, so to speak.”

◆◇◆◇◆

“R-Really?!” I was unable to believe what I had just heard.

“Yes...” Laura said. “Well, to begin with, the Swamp of Tarasque is quite a challenge even for the most seasoned of adventurers, is it not? If it would motivate you to give it your all, Mister Vivie...then something like that would be a small price to pay.”

“Something like that”? Why, “that” airship would command a small fortune if sold, such was its worth! To dismiss it as if it were nothing but small change... How bold, how audacious!

I could feel nothing but a deep sense of gratitude toward Laura. It permeated my body and soul. At this moment, I, Rentt Faina, was willing to pledge my eternal and unwavering loyalty to this young lady.

But of course, that was unnecessary...

“I suppose... If one. Bothers asking... One can find. Good deals,” I said, attempting to obfuscate the fact that I was over the moon at this arrangement.

I wonder if Laura saw through my charade... While she looked young, the sheer ferocity of logic that dwelled in her eyes painted her as a sensible adult. The wisdom in her gaze almost suggested a bloody history of battles waged against various heads of powerful merchant families and nobles who owned

entire continents. I wondered how many challenges one had to overcome to reach such a point in life, and what experiences were needed for such a feat. I could hardly imagine it.

Taking all that into consideration, I didn’t have a single doubt in my mind Laura had already read my mind through and through. She was an upstanding lady in her own right, only suggesting to gift me with the little airship after watching me fidget and gripe endlessly. In fact, I did a poor job at hiding my joy—ah, I could soon hold it in my hands once more! Even so, Laura calmly watched on, not saying a word...

This wasn’t childish behavior. Or, I didn’t think it was. Adventurers were the sorts of individuals to use whatever means possible to grasp what they sought, even if those means were a series of childish conducts aimed at having their host take pity upon them and grant them the object of their desires.

You truly are a pathetic individual, Rentt Faina...

But no, I couldn’t refuse. I had to have it.

Oh, little airship. You are mine, and mine only. I would never give you to anyone...

Well, jokes aside... But was that truly a joke?

Perhaps... But truly, jokes aside, I turned to Laura, continuing our conversation. Laura seemed a little troubled as the conversation went on.

“Although any Silver-class adventurer worth their salt would not have trouble retrieving the flowers, the journey there poses certain...issues, as I am sure you are aware. Certain clothing and equipment would not survive the trip, in addition to the ever-present threat of poison. With some poisons being slow-acting, it can be difficult to predict and prepare for such occurrences. And then there are the Tarasques... Yes, they can be generally avoided if one carries holy water with them, but there are also cases where individual monsters become incredibly aggressive due to turf wars among their kind. Considering all this, I really wanted to hire a Gold-class adventurer, but alas, one would have to make a trip to the capital for such an appointment...”

Each and every one of Laura’s points made perfect sense. Although adventurers who were capable of all the above existed, they wouldn’t be found in a rural town like Maalt, no matter how wealthy or powerful the client. I, in turn, would be quite a rare find to the Latuules, for it just so happened my abilities matched what they were looking for, and hiring me

would be mutually beneficial.

A convincing line of reasoning. But there was something that caught my attention.

“...I understand. Your points. I am not against... Accepting the request. However... The fact that. You need to consume... Dragon Blood Blossom extract. On a regular basis... Perhaps, Laura. You suffer from... Accumulative Miasma Disease?”

Laura seemed taken aback, surprised at my question.

“You know of the name of this disease, Mister Vivie...? Then, the reason you ventured into the swamp in the first place...”

I wanted to answer Laura’s question, but I had an obligation to keep my client’s private information secret. I could tell her I had taken on a request of a similar nature, though I couldn’t divulge any more details than that. And yet, Laura had reached quite the deduction with what little information she had of me—another demonstration of the Latuules’ influence over Maalt. Should they ever desire any kind of information, it would surely make its way to them via one channel or another.

Be that as it might, I would still stand by my principles. “That. Is all... I can say.”

Laura seemed to understand the meaning behind my words. “I do apologize, it would seem like I have overstepped my bounds. With this, however, I am sure you understand my circumstances, Mister Vivie. While the Accumulative Miasma Disease can be treated permanently in its early stages with the extract of Dragon Blood Blossoms, the disease can no longer be cured once it reaches a terminal stage. I would not suddenly die of it, but in exchange, I do require fresh Dragon-Flower Blood on a regular basis. Hence my request.”

I nodded at Laura’s words. Should I ask her to say any more, I would be the one overstepping her boundaries.

I didn’t know all that much about the Accumulative Miasma Disease—to think it would become permanent at a later stage... Sister Lillian of the orphanage was lucky to have been cured this early.

A single trip to pick some of the blossoms was one thing, but regular trips for a constant supply was another matter altogether. I suppose I may have really done it this time, taking on a request of such magnitude.

In any case, I now understood Laura’s circumstances, and had a good

grasp of the request at hand, in addition to the proposed rewards. Accepting this request didn’t seem out of the question, and, yes, the rewards were quite charming.

I turned to Laura, my mind made up.

“I will accept. This request... But I would like. The documentation to be altered to... Reflect. The updated terms that we have... Agreed on. Just now. If that is... All right. With you, Laura. Or perhaps... I should say. Honored client.”

I stuck out my hand, and Laura promptly took it in her own, smiling. “Most obliged. You would be doing us a great favor. I look forward to

working with you from now on, Mister Vivie. Ah, yes, and you may continue to call me Laura.”

I had intended to treat Laura with an additional layer of formality after the contract was mutually agreed upon, but it seemed like that wasn’t necessary.

“I... Understand, Laura. Is this fine?”

At my words, Laura’s smile widened ever so slightly, and she nodded, seemingly satisfied.

◆◇◆◇◆

“...Was that really. All right?” I asked of Isaac as he walked next to me, slowly escorting me toward the manor’s gates.

“Yes, she does not quite mind. It is something to be given away eventually, and it made little difference as to when it left her hands. At least, that was what Lady Laura had to say.”

Isaac’s eyes focused on the same thing as mine, that of a small airship flying through the air. Due to the strength of my mana only keeping it airborne for ten minutes or so, Laura infused the magic crystal within it with some magic of her own, enough to keep it flying for an hour, and maybe a little more. Honestly speaking, the crystal itself was quite the prize, and was more than adequate as a reward. To the Latuules, however, both the airship and the crystal seemed like pocket change.

As for Laura herself, she was now resting in the manor.

Isaac was the only one accompanying me to the gates. Of course, I was no child, and the youth within me wanted to protest, or at least to say that I required no escort. Alas, the rose-hedge maze stood between myself and

Maalt; I would only get lost in it again. Now that I knew the secrets of the maze, I could use the method I had previously discovered, though it would still take me quite a bit of time. I would be done by the next sunrise, maybe...

But I had Isaac with me. As he approached, the very walls of the rose- hedge maze seemed to come alive, arranging themselves this way and that to form a clear path for us. It was almost like the maze itself chose to avoid Isaac...and by extension, me.

“What... Trick. Is there to this strange... Mechanism?”

As if responding to my query, Isaac held out his hand, slowly unfurling his fingers. Resting in his palm was what appeared to be a round rock of some sort. It had a familiar appearance... Come to think of it, it looked somewhat similar to the remote device that was paired with my model airship.

Isaac soon offered an explanation.

“If one holds this and focuses adequately, one is able to reshape the garden to their liking—to a small degree, at least. It would be impossible to perform any...major changes.”

“Major... Changes? How would one. Go about doing something... Like that?”

“Only Lady Laura knows how it is done. I am not privy to the specifics, so to speak.”

I couldn’t possibly know if Isaac was telling the truth, but, for now, that mattered little. It was wise to keep it a secret, lest individuals with ill intent attempt to use the maze for their own ends. I wasn’t about to tell everyone at the tavern the Latuule family secrets, as rumors wouldn’t spread if one remained adequately discreet. Isaac’s decision was sound.

“It would seem like we have reached our destination,” Isaac said as we stopped before the manor’s gates.

Having the little airship land on the ground, I gave its side a small tap. As if responding to my gesture, it minimized itself, contracting in size. With this, I could hold it comfortably in the palm of my hand. This was one of the many functions Laura had so kindly told me about, and while it had many other hidden functions, I wasn’t sure if I would ever have the chance to try them all out.

It being able to enter a more compact form was convenient, at the very least. I didn’t exactly want the airship hovering about me in Maalt, nor did I

want to carry its fully deployed form while on my errands. “...The gate guard. Is no longer here.”

“Yes. He stands guard from dawn to dusk. At night, the gates are locked, and the maze becomes extremely complex to ensure no one enters the premises,” Isaac responded.

Personally, it was already a difficult maze, so if it became any more complex than it already was, any unfortunate individual who wandered in would surely be trapped well into the next day.

A truly frightening prospect...

“I have... A question. What should I do... On future visits?”

If possible, I really wanted to steer clear of that maze, especially since I

wouldn’t be able to pick a second gift.

Isaac seemed a little surprised, as if he meant to tell me before but had apparently forgotten during the course of our short conversation.

“Ah, yes. If the guard is present at the time of your visit, he will contact the manor, upon which I will personally make my way here to escort you in. Rest assured, Mister Vivie.”

A reassuring response. With that, I gave Isaac a polite wave, walking down the path and leaving the manor’s gates behind. The next time I visited these grounds, I would arrive with Dragon Blood Blossoms.

It was a melancholic feeling, having to enter the swamp again. If

anything, I was now equipped with the high-quality holy water that Isaac had gifted to me.

It can only get easier from here on out...

◆◇◆◇◆

“Is this it...?” “Yes.”

That was all we said as we sat, arms folded, in Lorraine’s living room. On the table was a singular object: a crystalline vial, housing what appeared to be a crimson-black fluid. Our eyes were fixated on it, and, for a while, neither of us broke the silence.

The vial was none other than the Vampire’s blood I had received from Laura the day before. Although I had given Lorraine a summary of what had transpired at the Latuule manor that day, she was somewhat tired and sleepy,

which resulted in us postponing the discussion to today.

When I had asked after her out of concern this very morning, Lorraine informed me she had gone a little overboard with her research and studies. Curious, I asked what these topics that kept her awake were, only to learn she had been doing research and writing textbooks in preparation for Alize’s eventual magic lessons. She could have easily purchased a commercial textbook of sorts, but Lorraine was known for being overly enthusiastic when it came to certain matters. She apparently insisted on making her own teaching materials—and that was that.

Although she spent quite a while on the text, it would seem like Lorraine had finished what she set out to do. One would assume creating something as specialized as a magic textbook would take a long time, but it turned out Lorraine was only noting down the basics of magic and magecraft, and as such it didn’t take all that long. According to Lorraine’s ambitions, the series was to eventually comprise of ten volumes, each detailing various theses on the applications of magic.

“If you read them all, you, too, would become a magical scholar, Rentt!”

was apparently the inspiration behind the sheer length of her work.

One wonders how a simple conversation on why Lorraine had decided to teach a local orphan the ways of magic spiraled into this; but of course, I had no answers myself.

Alize had mentioned she wanted to become an adventurer... But what would happen if she followed Lorraine’s teachings and became a scholar instead? I suppose that wouldn’t be a bad thing, for if she did become a good, renowned scholar, she, too, could afford to laze about like Lorraine did, if only because of the amount of coin she would be earning on a regular basis.

At the very least, the hypothetical scholar Alize would be much more well-off than me, a Bronze-class adventurer. Not a bad career choice at all.

If Alize did eventually move on to study at an academy or school, she might even win a national scholarship. Even if Lorraine was just an oddball scholar living in a rural town on the fringe of Yaaran’s borders, a recommendation from Lorraine could go a long way.

But Alize wanted to become an adventurer. I reminded Lorraine of that fact, and of how she was my very first disciple, which, predictably, led to a silly argument between us. In the end, we both settled on the fact Alize was the one who would ultimately make the decision. But for some reason, I felt

Lorraine would entice her onto the path of scholar-hood should I ever leave her unattended.

I decided to impart unto Alize all the joys, hopes, and dreams of adventuring, all in good time. Even if mistakes were to be made along the way, there was always the arguably inspirational tale of the man who had spent ten years stuck as a Bronze-class adventurer to tell...

In any case...I turned my attention back to the vial of Vampire blood on the table. One might ask why I chose this, of all things; but, of course, it was done for the sake of my Existential Evolution. For some reason, I felt like a great change would come over me if I absorbed this into myself... Or at least, it felt that way.

“So you are telling me it is something like instinct, Rentt...?” Lorraine asked, casting a sideways glance at me.

I thought for a little bit before giving my answer.

“I don’t... Really. Know. For example... A child wants to play. With an interesting object... Because it looks interesting. One sleeps because one is... Sleepy. It was such a feeling.”

It wasn’t entirely identical, as far as feelings and hunches went; to be precise, it was something akin to an urge. An urge I didn’t feel when I was still human. But I couldn’t express it in any other way, hence my choice of words.

“Well...I cannot say much to that, Rentt. After all, there is no arguing against instinct. However...you have considered the risks, yes? As that Laura Latuule associate of yours said, Vampire blood is known to be a risky treatment for...anything, really. I have read many records of those who attempted such a thing—all of said attempts ended in tragedy, mind you. It is not something you should put to your lips without the appropriate mental preparation.”

Lorraine had a point; I hadn’t exactly conducted much research on Vampires. To begin with, Vampires were quite highly ranked as far as monsters went, and wielded formidable strength. I didn’t come across such creatures easily, nor had I ever stood in front of one. While I had some basic knowledge of Vampires in that regard, having a good grasp of what would happen to people who drank Vampire blood was something that was out of

my general expertise. Lorraine, however, seemed to have some knowledge on

the matter, as expected of a scholar.

With Lorraine warning me about the dangers involved, I felt my resolve wavering ever so slightly.

“...Maybe I should give. Up on that for now and... Just. Play with this instead...”

Saying so, I withdrew an ornamental, disc-like rock from my pouch, placing its control device in my hands. The model airship, which had been placed gingerly in the middle of the table as if it were a priceless treasure, was soon floating and zipping around in the air.

“You really did take home quite a lot of rare artifacts, no? Even I have not heard of this Latuule family, Rentt. Just by looking at the magical tools they own, however, I can say with confidence they are by no means a normal family.” Lorraine’s eyes transfixed on the little model airship.

Shifting my consciousness to the airship, I stared down at Lorraine, who had an amusing expression on her face. If I had to say, it was a mix of admiration and exasperation.

It would seem like I had moved the airship a little too close to Lorraine. Come to think of it, I had never been this physically close to her before. In fact...upon closer inspection, Lorraine was wearing somewhat looser clothing today.

This is a bad angle, little airship. I’m almost able to see certain things I

shouldn’t be seeing...

I recalled my consciousness from the little flying craft, taking a deep breath as I did so. I hadn’t yet informed Lorraine of the airship’s functions, so she probably shouldn’t have noticed anything untoward happening.

However...

“Hm...?” Lorraine tilted her head to one side, as if confused. “...What, is it?”

“No, it is nothing... Perhaps it was just my imagination. No, no, nothing at all...” Lorraine said, giving a strangely vague answer to my seemingly innocent question.

As if changing the subject, Lorraine continued.

“Even so, have you decided what you would do once you have stopped escaping from reality, Rentt? You said it was necessary for your evolution, no? In that case, you would eventually end up drinking it either way.”

“...I suppose. You are right, but I cannot... Help but feel. A little scared, at

the... Thought. Do you not... Have any thoughts, about me just... Drinking this, Lorraine?”

“Of course, if you do not intend to drink it, then that would be that,” Lorraine answered seriously, without any hint of hesitation. “I do not mind if you remain undead forever, Rentt. You could continue staying here, fulfill whatever requests that catch your fancy, and keep living in Maalt—not exactly a bad prospect.

“But,” Lorraine continued after taking a deep breath, “you dislike that, Rentt. That is not want you want—even I know that. I know all about your dreams. No matter what, even if you had no talent, and even if it took years upon years, you would keep aspiring to become a Mithril-class adventurer, yes? Even if you had to grab the metaphorical tiger by the tail and pull off some death-defying stunts, you would walk that path without hesitation all the way to the end. In fact, is this hesitation that you show me not just an act of concern? That is the kind of man you are, Rentt Faina. Am I wrong? If so, then I will support you however I can. Hah! If it comes down to it, I’ll pick up your bones, bury them in a proper grave, and I would even visit every day... Until the day I die, I’ll make sure your silly grave is not forgotten. I would cry as loudly as I could at your funeral—but alas, that is about the extent of what I can do for you, Rentt...”

As expected of Lorraine—she truly understood me.

It was true: although I seemed to hesitate a little, it was all but an act. I

had already made up my mind a long time ago. If drinking this would turn me into an invalid, or somehow kill me a second time, then that would be that. If

I didn’t drink it, I would never be able to take that step forward, and my life would just be a parody of living—a dead man walking, so to speak.

Figuratively, of course...

The fact that I was literally a dead man walking didn’t escape my attention, but, for now, I chose to let that thought lie. But even so...should such an incident come to pass, it would surely be a handful for Lorraine to deal with.

“...I apologize. If I drink this and... End up doing anything. Strange. You should conjure up your... Spells. And burn me to a crisp.”

“I pray it does not come to that...” Lorraine muttered, her response almost sounding like a prayer.

I nodded at Lorraine, finally taking up the crystal vial in my hands. For a

while, I stared into Lorraine’s eyes, which even now seemed to be filled with unease, and maybe a slight hint of fear.

I twisted the vial’s knob off, raised it to my lips, and tipped its contents into my throat.