1. Cover
2. Insert
3. Title Page
4. Copyright
5. Map
6. Prologue
7. Chapter 1 Your Friendly Neighborhood Dark Lord
8. Interlude
9. Chapter 2 The Rabidly Revelrous Rabbit
10. Chapter 3 The Imprisoned Adventurer
11. Chapter 4 Rhora the Deranged
12. Chapter 5 At Adventure’s End
13. Afterword
14. Yen Newsletter

Here’s the thing about me. I—

—stumbled into a mission that dispatched me to a foreign dimension, a world where I now spent my days as an adventurer. I’d had good times—and agonizing moments; I’d consecrated a covenant with a gorgeous goddess and gotten married (in a sham wedding). I’d gained a little sister, met friends I could wholeheartedly trust, and lost some forever. Lots of ups, lots of downs.

This cycle of meetings and farewells made me the tiniest smidge more mature as a person, but as an adventurer, I still fell squarely in the initiate category. What’s worse, I had perhaps unwisely spread unsavory rumors about myself, a choice that continued to drag my personal reputation through the mud. I desperately needed to fix the situation, but I’d have to go above and beyond to prove myself if I wanted to clear the stains on my name.

Above all else, as the party leader, I had to prioritize the safety of my comrades before anything. I wouldn’t let any more of them die, no matter what. Nothing could stop me from keeping that promise. If any of us had to fall, it would be me. That was how I’d atone for letting my best friend perish before my eyes. This had become my life’s mission, though I hadn’t told any of my party members that. I swore to keep this vow and prided myself on upholding that duty.

With renewed determination, my friends and I delved further into the dungeon. But as expected, that proved a formidable task. There was no such thing as an easy path—just a never-ending cycle of gaining ground and returning to home base. Even so, little by little, we began to make progress. Although we didn’t exactly have an abundance of time on our side, we moved cautiously, at the pace of a casual stroll, slowly but surely taking one step forward at a time. That was how we approached adventuring.

All that aside, disregarding everything I had on my plate, I now inexplicabley found myself…making pasta.

It all started five days prior when my merfolk friend, Ghett, came upon a phantom ship that drifted into a nearby port of Remlia shortly thereafter. I investigated it thoroughly but found no clues as to which country the ship came from. There had been zero signs of any crew members aboard. The only thing she carried—a load of flour.

If you were to bake the whole load into bread, it would feed the entire Kingdom of Remlia for a week; it wasn’t an inconsequential amount, but it wasn’t worth the trouble for such a prosperous nation, especially since the person who had found it first was not one of its citizens.

In a show of great generosity, King Remlia graciously granted ownership of the ship’s load to its discoverer, though his true motivations were probably more along the lines of I’ll be damned if I stir up trouble with another race over such a measly heap of flour. That discoverer, Ghett, had then said, “I don’t eat flour, nor do I want it. Take it,” and passed the whole lot on to me. I probably don’t have to spell this out, but it would take my household and party ages to finish using it all up. That left us but one choice.

But first, a brief detour. In Japanese, we often refer to the concept of a “dietary staple” with a more symbolic meaning than the corresponding perceptions held in the Western world such as Europe and the United States. Rice, which serves as the foundation of our cuisine, supplies a well-rounded helping of nutrients. So nourishing is this crop that you only need to have two extra side dishes with it to sustain yourself. You can argue that wheat products count as a “staple” in that same vein given the large populations of people who have them regularly, but for some reason, whether it be for taste or nutritional value, you don’t hear many people say their diets consist exclusively of bread or wheat foodstuffs. This country, the Kingdom of Remlia, followed the Western model. Wheat, potatoes, meat, and beans were the foundation of a whole variety of dishes that filled its people’s stomachs.

Going back to what I was saying, the kingdom had no use for the flour found on the phantom ship. Compared with flour made from wheat grown in this land, it looked a little yellow, which made it seem of inferior quality to those unfamiliar with it. Even if I wanted to sell it for cheap, I’d still have to set the cost higher than the whole-wheat equivalent made from unrefined grains that was sold here. Dirt cheap prices would send the local markets into turmoil and turn the merchants’ ire against me.

I’d had a Remlian artisan bake some bread out of the new flour as a test product, but it garnered only negative reviews. Its hard crusts and doughy insides made for an unusual, crumbly texture. Personally, I did not find the taste nor texture to be unpleasant, but it didn’t beat the bread currently on the market. As a rule, to have any hope of outperforming the most popular baked goods, your new product would have to be tastier, cheaper, and simpler—qualities the phantom-ship flour simply did not have.

In any event, I’d tasked the artificial intelligence robot I’d brought with me to this dimension to analyze our newest acquisition. The results showed the phantom variety bore many similarities with the durum semolina flour found in the modern world. In other words, it was more well suited for making pasta. After that, I built a warehouse to turn the flour into pasta, dried it all, packaged it, and dubbed it “Phantom Pasta.” Using the experience I gained from the failed mayonnaise business, I came up with a strategy and presented the pasta to the king, in part to lay the groundwork for the project.

A little later, I received a late-night summons to the palace—more specifically, to the royal kitchen. Waiting for me there was the ruler of the castle and king of adventurers, Remlia ole Armaguest Rhasvah. The king’s friend and highly regarded father of adventurers—Pops—joined him. A beastmaid clad in a maid’s uniform—the king’s illegitimate daughter, Lanceil—rounded out the group of three.

King Remlia and Pops were making their way through the bowls of pasta topped with the meat sauce I had sent to accompany it. They looked neither disgusted nor enraptured by the dish, whose noodles were clearly far past al dente.

“Forgive me for calling you at such short notice. How fares your adventuring?” A very on-brand bit of small talk from the king of adventurers.

“With great difficulty. We’ve had quite a few setbacks.”

“Yes, I imagine. I’m afraid there is no avoiding hardship in this line of work. By the way—”

Pops jumped in, cutting the king off. “This grub came from the Left Continent. I recognize the taste.”

“The Left Continent?” I asked.

The Kingdom of Remlia was located in the Right Continent. You’d have to cross an ocean, slip through an archipelago, cut across the Central Continent, then sail across yet another ocean to reach the Left Continent. In other words, it was ridiculously far.

“I come from there,” explained the father of adventurers. “As did Lanceil’s mother, too. It’s a barren land ruled by war-hungry monarchs. With blood raining and snow falling upon it year-round.”

“Did the phantom ship belong to one of those rulers?”

“Good chance it did. But it’s a mystery how it got here. Not only was it unmanned, but it also carried nothing but flour—which is both strange and unsettling. I had reservations that the flour could have been poisoned, but you were cooking and eating it without any problem. We tested our meals as well; they came out clean.”

I had asked Machina to check it for any poisonous substances. It should go without saying, but I wouldn’t serve others something I hadn’t first tried myself. The flour itself didn’t have any issues.

“Ah.” Actually, there was one problem.

“What?”

“Pops, we did find some bugs in the flour. Strangely enough, they wouldn’t eat anything but wheat grown around here. But please don’t let that concern you. We thoroughly exterminated all of them.” After Machina had discovered the pests, we’d made sure to track down and eliminate all that had found their way to the nearby meadows and farmlands. We did keep a few samples as well in case we’d need to analyze them later.

“Pests, you say? That only makes the whole thing more suspicious.”

“So…you think someone intentionally sent the phantom ship here? To cause an infestation or something?” In that case—

“Two suspects stand out, but instinct tells me only one is the culprit,” the king declared, now noticeably repulsed by the pasta on his plate. “Long have the regents on the Left Continent been at war with Ellusion of the Central Continent. In fact, they’ve been at war longer than they have ever been at peace. And it bears noting the vast majority of the wheat we grow here originally came from Ellusion.”

“Meaning—” The royal pair were looking more dubious by the minute.

“However, I cannot fathom why they would obliterate the crops of a nation they mean to loot. Their people have achieved prosperity not through cultivation but plunder.”

This made Ellusion our number one suspect. Recently, both a hero and his attending knight from the papal state had lost their lives on Remlian soil. Ellusion undoubtedly suspected foul play, though they had yet to make public their misgivings about the situation.

I guess I could see them trying to destabilize the Kingdom of Remlia in retaliation.

“Now then, Souya. I still owe you a reward.”

“A reward, Your Majesty?” I played dumb. I knew “reward” was probably just an official name for the price of my silence. I’d learned more secrets than I ever should. This averted pestilence added another entry to the list.

“I understand you have struggled with your adventuring. It must be challenging to fill the vital roles left by departed party members.”

“………Quite.”

“Challenging” didn’t begin to cover it. An irreplaceable man, our party’s protector and shield, was dead.

“As such—”

“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, but have you received any news regarding Arianne Forths Gassim?” I had to know how the situation with Arvin’s elder sister stood. Everything else could wait.

The king gritted his teeth in frustration as he answered me. “No, nothing has changed. There has been no progress of which to speak. The Fifth Pope, the very one who proposed I take this throne, has made a mockery of himself, wandering so far and wide his people ridicule him as ‘the Stray Pope.’ Naturally, his opinion now holds very little sway within the country. Though I dispatched several letters, I have yet to receive favorable word from the administrative branch. I did, however, hear news of Arvin Forths Gassim. Evidently, he has been posthumously reinstated as an official knight of the Church of St. Lillideas. His honor has been restored.”

“I sincerely appreciate that, Your Majesty.” I thanked the king for his assistance, but my feelings were decidedly mixed. I was happy at the fact that my departed friend had regained his honor, but at the same time, I worried for his sister and her health. You never heard good things about anything related to Ellusion. It didn’t take much to imagine the hospitality a hostage would receive under such conditions. Even if Arianne did manage to secure her freedom, every single member of her family was dead. Would she have any means to support herself? Maybe there was some way I could reach out and contact her. If she could bear the long voyage by sea, I would love to have her come to Remlia.

“Be that as it may, Souya, we need only one more push—just one. If we can attain one more thing as leverage to negotiate with Ellusion, I give you my word that Arvin’s elder sister will be pardoned. I swear this to you by my grandfather Rhasvah’s name.”

“……I understand, Your Highness.”

This man was a pro. He knew exactly where my bottom line was and had factored that into his plans. For this reason alone, I could assume he was not lying. More like, if this did turn out to be a lie, I would have nothing more to do with him. I’d sneak into the Central Continent and handle it myself if I had to. Though, it would definitely push me past the one-year time limit I had, but that meant nothing to me. It wasn’t like I had any family left waiting for me in the modern world. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to lay my bones to rest here. As for regrets—

“Huh?” Suddenly dizzy, my head spun.

“Souya?” Lanceil caught me just as I was about to collapse.

“Little wonder. All the exhaustion of the last few days must be taking its toll. So, Souya, returning to the subject of your reward,” the king began. Oh yeah, he did mention that. “Lanceil.”

“Yes?”

“Serve him well.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.” Lanceil glanced over at me, beaming. “My lord, I place myself in your capable hands.”

“Wha………? Sorry?”

Your Friendly Neighborhood Dark Lord

“Yeah, sure, but before we get to that, what are you doing right—?”

She bit down again gently. “This is all part of my endeavor to become more intimately acquainted so that you will take me as your lover as quickly as possible. I thought I’d try a few things to see what works for you, sire.”

“I appreciate that. Wait, no, you should really think about when and where you—”

“Do you not care for this kind of affection, my lord?” She ran the tip of her tongue along my ear, tracing sensitive corners impossible to defend. It dipped into the canal, instantly giving me a mind-numbing sensation I’d never felt before. I almost passed out. Sure, Lana was my wife in name only, but it didn’t feel right letting another woman put the moves on me in front of her, except that it did feel really—

“……Mmngh.” Lana blinked her eyes awake. “Hmm?”

Lanceil paid her no mind and, if anything, revved up the heat of her seduction. Her beastmaid blood was in a feverish frenzy.

“……Huh?” Though usually very quick on the uptake, even Lana struggled to comprehend a scene this ludicrous. She sat up and took a deep breath in. After surveying the situation once more, she nodded to herself a couple times—then rammed her fist straight into Lanceil’s face.

“For breakfast this morning, we have mushroom and cheese omelets, bread, and, umm, this soup with bacon and vegetables called…”

“Pot-au-feu, Lady Lanceil,” Machina offered.

“Yes, exactly, pot-au-feu. I stewed them in the magic pot (pressure cooker), so they’re soft and perfectly done,” Lanceil announced as she and the AI bot set the table.

Mmm, it feels nice to wake up to a ready-made breakfast for a change. Not as good as watching someone gush over how delicious something I made is, though.

“I’ve added extra bacon for you, sire.”

“Lanceil, I forbid you from taking even one step closer to my husband.” My elven wife intercepted the beastmaid on her way to deliver my breakfast.

“But—”

“I forbid it.”

“Very well, I’ll leave it here.” Lanceil gave in, then set the tray down a few steps away.

Lana retrieved the platter and brought it over to me. “Do you have anything to say in your defense for your actions this morning, Lanceil?” she asked, clearly close to losing it.

The vulpine culprit looked bemused. “I must say I don’t see why I should have to defend myself at all. I respected the nighttime restriction as it is reserved for marital consummation, but mornings are free to one and all.”

“M-marital consummation?! Why, that’s… We haven’t gotten there yet! But you clearly crossed the line! How terribly vulgar! You should know better!” Lana sputtered, beet red to the tips of her ears. Honestly, she looked super cute.

“I mean, you’re not exactly one to talk, Lala,” Éa pointed out after glancing over at her elder sister sitting atop my lap. She made an excellent point.

“Éa, Souya and I are married,” the elder elf retorted. “What could possibly be wrong with a wife sitting on her husband’s lap?”

“Pretty sure I can hear the pot calling the kettle black, but it doesn’t look like you’ve noticed, so just forget it.”

“Huh?” Clearly, she did not realize. This wasn’t the first time she’d done it, but riding a man’s lap at the breakfast table was a little, you know, vulgar, maybe. I was completely to blame, though; I didn’t have the heart to reject Lana. I mean, come on. The feeling of her relatively plump bum resting on my lap made that impossible. Show me a man who could willingly brush that off, and he’d have either my utmost admiration or utter resentment.

“Ah, this is so gooood!” Éa gushed after her first spoonful of the soup. Stone-faced, Lana tasted it for herself, too.

“Ghrr……… It’s delicious. How?!”

Pot-au-feu was made from stewed meat and vegetables. I’d brought granulated bouillon with me from the modern world, so it took practically nothing else to season the soup. Crumbling potatoes, softened bits of turnips and slivers of onion, rounded carrot cubes, and bite-size portions of bacon starred in this variation. I cleaved a chunk of potato in two with the lightest prod of my spoon. Reaching around Lana, I tried it for myself.

“Ohhh.” While a little light on salt, the soup sang with the savory flavors of the assorted vegetables and bacon, and a light sweetness bloomed on my tongue. I brought a generously thick piece of bacon to my mouth; when coupled with the vegetables, it evened out the saltiness superbly. All the other fillings were cut into perfect little portions, too, making this a breakfast I’d have any day. “Yeah, great job.”

“Oooh, ooooh, oooh!” Upon hearing my reaction, the foxy beastmaid hid her face with the tray. Trembling for some reason, she swung her tail furiously back and forth. She normally kept the tail tucked away beneath her skirt; if I walked behind her now, I would get a clear view of her panties. Not like I wanted to look, but…yeah, I actually did want to look. “A-and the omelet?!”

“Let’s see.” I reached toward the slightly burned omelet, slicing it open to unveil a luxurious mix of melted cheese and mushrooms. It was sweet; she’d added some sugar. The saccharine addition and the saltiness of the cheese highlighted the best in the other and brought out a deliciousness further accented by the crisp texture of the mushrooms. “Not a great presentation, but you get full marks for taste. Good job on this one, too.”

“Thank you very much, my lord!! And I apologize, but I cannot contain my excitement and must run off!!” With that, our chef of the morning took off across the meadow, quick as the wind. She looked incredibly happy from behind. I could relate to the feeling, but this was an extreme reaction.

“It’s kinda bland,” my little sister noted, then added a few heaping dollops of mayonnaise to her omelet. Lana took bite after bite of her own, her other hand clenched into a tight fist.

“Machina, I need you to give me another cooking lesson, so—”

“I am terribly sorry, Mistress Lana, but I must refuse.”

“Whaaa—?!” Nice one, Machina. Tell it to her straight.

“The truth is, I have so far been unable to dispose of your last cooking creation. Once we destroy that abomination, I will gladly pass on all the secrets I know.”

Not too long ago, Lana had spawned a mysterious mass while trying to make some rice balls. Unspeakably terrifying to behold and difficult to destroy, it had us up against a wall. Try to burn it, and it expanded; douse it with water, and it turned savage. No number of arrows or slashes from my enchanted sword caused it any damage. It was impervious to all manner of physical attacks. We also gave Lana’s magic a shot, but even her fires could not eliminate the monstrosity, though they did just barely manage to shrink and weaken the thing.

For the moment, we had sealed it away in a steel box. Still, the thrashing and clanging within was getting more violent by the day. Recently, we’d started hearing nails scratch against the steel and even whispers of what sounded like an unintelligible language. Machina had a good point. We couldn’t risk unleashing version two or three of that atrocity while the original still existed. It would put the whole Other Dimension in danger. As a representative of the modern human world, I had no right causing any trouble here.

“Ugh… It’s true, the responsibility for that does lie with me. All right. I’ll develop some method to exterminate it first, but afterward, you will teach me how to cook, promise?”

“Of course. Leave that part to me.” That was a close one.

Casually scanning the campsite, I landed on something out of place. “Machina, what is that?”

In the shadow of the AI, I’d spotted a mound, its contents hidden under a blue tarp. It looked as big as about five people lying down side by side.

No, don’t tell me—has she finally gone off the deep end?

“It is only through repeated error that humans develop and mature,” Machina reminded me as she removed the tarp with one of her mechanical arms.

“What the……?” I lost all words. Before me lay a massacre of broken frying pans and pots, cutting boards snapped cleanly in two, chipped kitchen knives, smashed plates, and the ashen remains of onetime edible foodstuffs.

“We acquired most of the cooking utensils and grocers in this dimension, so please pretend you saw nothing of this. However, do take note of the great effort Lady Lanceil put into this meal.”

“It looks just like when I tried to cook, too. But rrgh. This is, well, yeah.” Lana wanted badly to criticize Lanceil’s work, but she held her tongue as it was a delicious breakfast. There was one problem, though.

“Yaya, this bread’s hard as a rock. I can’t bite into it.”

“Ah, man.” Lanceil had probably taken and used the stale bread I had kept as a reserve. It wasn’t something you could eat straight off the shelf.

Well, let’s just chalk it up to an adorable misunderstanding.

“Machina, take it away.”

“Roger that.”

My AI partner retrieved all the bread and stored it once again in the pantry. The bread felt hard enough. I should use it to cook and make something with it when we returned from the dungeon.

“Oh.”

Across the meadow, a redheaded young boy and a long-haired maiden in knight’s armor made their way toward us. I recognized the boy, but who was that girl?

She can’t possibly be his girlfriend, right?

That said, the boy was at that age, and his androgynous features caught the attention of many ladies, most of them older. It would be stranger for him not to have had a girlfriend or two by this point. All kinds of excitement and nerves set my heart aflutter. As the kid’s guardian, I had to make sure I didn’t embarrass him.

“Sorry, Lana.”

“Awww.” It hurt me, too, but I forced myself to lift her from my lap and sat her down in the chair next to me. After quickly patting down my clothes and fixing my bedhead, I got up to greet the pair.

“Why, good morning, Shuna. Who might this young lady be?” I put on my best smile, trying to imitate my departed friend’s winning grin…and immediately got the feeling I’d made a huge mistake. I think I owe you an apology, Arvin. “Hmm?”

The girl stared at me in disgust. Despite her cold expression, she had a cute appearance. Was she maybe a little older than Shuna? The knight had long, curly chestnut hair, wore faded-white armor, and carried a shield and longsword that both felt too big for her stature.

Hmm…… Huh? I’ve seen that armor, that shield, and that sword before.

“Sou, what the hell are you saying? It’s me, Bel.”

“’Course, I knew that.” She was none other than Beltriche, one of my party members. “Sorry,” I apologized. Turned out, I’d made a different type of mistake. Never would I have thought I’d fail to recognize one of my closest friends. To be fair, though, I was pretty sure Bel had shorter hair. How had it gotten this long in just three days? Some kind of magic Rogaine?

“……Whatever,” she replied coldly. Is she that pissed?

“Bel, want some breakfast? This pot-au-feu is pretty tasty,” I offered, trying to smooth over the issue with food. Nothing worked better on Other Dimensional youngins.

“Yeah.”

Before I could grab her another bowl, Bel snatched mine, took a seat at the table, and dug in. She ate in silence.

“So what’s the verdict? Though actually, I wasn’t the one who made it today. Want some more meat?”

“No.” She fell into an even deeper silence, eating spoonful after spoonful of her stew. It surprised me to see someone who despised vegetables as vehemently as Bel gobble them down so readily. I’d have to relay that to Lanceil later.

“Souya, I need you for a sec.”

“You want some, too, Shuna?”

“I’m good. C’mere.” The redhead gestured for me to follow him away from the camp.

“What’s up?” Something felt just a little off. We’re about to go in the dungeon. Is he gonna be okay?

“Here’s fine. Give me a minute,” he said, stopping as soon as we could no longer see the campgrounds. Pulling a tree branch out of his bag, Shuna stuck it in the ground. “O King of the Tree Spirits, Lord Ukhazol, I, your humble follower Shuna of Azollid, raise up a prayer in your name and entreat you to reveal your form and voice before us. May my request reach your hallowed—huuuh?”

The kid hadn’t even finished his incarnation before a blinding light shot out from the branch, and a tiny man about twenty centimeters tall appeared. With a hoe in one hand, straw hat on his head, and a sweat-catching cloth around his neck, the mini dude looked like a typical, everyday farmer.

“Shuna, my boy. Doin’ okay? Ya know you can call me more often than this, right? All the gramps and grannies round here keep askin’ about ya. I’m bound to these islands, ya know, so I’ll have ta show up in this sorry little state, but at least I can hear ya out if ya get the urge to vent about anythin’.” What a folksy little god. While not exactly dignified, he was kind and easy to talk to. Humans who were adored and loved by many and then became deities often shared those characteristics.

“Thank you, Lord Ukhazol. I reached out today because I wanted to talk to you about Bel. Oh, and this guy’s my party leader.”

At Shuna’s introduction, I politely greeted his god. “My name is Souya, the Otherworlder. I’m also an adventurer and honored to serve as Shuna’s party leader. Your devotee’s swordsmanship is unparalleled among his peers.”

“He’s still a real kid, though, ain’t he?”

“Well, I’d say he acts his age.”

“Ya know, he finally shot up a bit not too long ago, but four years back, he was just a tiny pip-squeak, taggin’ along behind Bel or Legure like a little chick. Soon as he lost sight of ’em, he’d start cryin’ and wailin’, and let me tell you, it was no easy feat gettin’ him to simmer down. I stopped counting how many times he called for me, bawlin’ his eyes out, but ya better believe I carried him home on my back over one hundred, two hundred times.”

“Ahh, I see.” What is this guy, Shuna’s doting uncle? Whoever he is, that firecracker’s gonna blow his shit if he keeps going on like that—

“Excuse me for interrupting, Lord Ukhazol, but about Bel.” When Shuna spoke up, he sounded much calmer than I’d expected. He really was growing up. Maybe that had something to do with the first steps into manhood he’d taken not too long ago?

“Sorry, sorry. I got so happy seein’ yer face after all this time, I got a bit carried away.”

“Um, I only left the island like three months ago.”

“Is that so? Feels longer seeing how you’ve grown quite a bit. You’re not foolin’ around with the ladies, are ya? The big cities are chock-full of temptation. Trust me, as a god and a fellow man, I can see how it could be alluring, but if ya get involved with the wrong woman and—” The god prattled like a loving and doting parent.

“Lord Ukhazol, I’m sorry, but this isn’t the time.”

“Right, sorry. Force of habit.”

Shuna moved on to the topic at hand. “Bel’s been real weird lately. Something kinda similar happened once before, but this time, it’s different. Souya, you didn’t even recognize her, did you?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly right. Speaking of, is superfast-growing hair a thing here?”

“Don’t be stupid.” Thought so. “It’s not just that, though,” Shuna continued. “She’s been downing all these vegetables she hates, actin’ all cold, ignorin’ people, starin’ daggers all over the place. Don’t even get me started on the dinner she made last night. Bel’s not an amazing cook or anything, but she’s never served anything literally inedible. Last night’s meal, though, was just nasty. A few of our older Gladwein brothers had some by mistake, and they had to get carried off to the Jumichla Healing Temple. Something is definitely wrong.”

So her dinner sent them to the hospital, huh? At least her failed dish didn’t physically attack them like ours.

“Lord Ukhazol, do you have any idea what’s going on with Bel?”

“Shuna, my boy, I’m afraid yer worst fears are true; something or someone has possessed Beltriche. She’s got that darn Divine Medium trait, ya know, which is why we’ve seen something similar in the past. If we were dealin’ with a demonic phantom, sprite, animal spirit, or a deity who’d lost their believers, I could shoo them right outta her, but this time, I got nothin’ that might help.”

“Whaaa—?” Shuna gasped, aghast. I had the same reaction. Being possessed was no joke.

“Ya know, I was just a simple man who did his best to protect our island from salt erosion until the day I died— Er, actually, I guess I kept pluggin’ away plantin’ trees and all that after I kicked the bucket, too, but there ain’t nothin’ special ’bout me. Even as a god, I ain’t got any graces too fancy to spread round. What I can say, though, is that whatever’s got hold of Bel ain’t evil.”

I threw a question at the deity. “Would a benevolent spirit take over someone’s body without permission?”

“Gods these days are born of endless obsession and deeds bigger than anythin’ humans can wrap their minds round. Even those y’all claim to be virtuous or worship as saints still go an’ smush people like bugs. What gods deem as good or evil is worlds apart from human morality. I bet to an Otherworlder like yerself, this all sounds like crazy talk, don’t it? But that’s just the way of things.”

This was the same for humans, too. All you had to do was claim authority over others by placing a crown on your head, and your actions would thereafter be judged against a different set of rules, one far removed from the simple concept of good versus evil. As long as you could argue you acted to protect your country, you could easily deceive and kill any number of people. Compared with that, the scales of justice regulating the behavior of the gods must have been far beyond the scope of human understanding.

“But that’s…”

Seeing how overwhelmed Shuna had become, Lord Ukhazol gently assured him, “Shuna, my dear, dear boy. Let me tell ya something to calm yer troubled heart. While I may be one of the weakest among the Legion Gods, I am still a deity in my own right. If I catch wind that whatever’s taken control of Bel’s usin’ her for any nefarious means, I’ll stake my divinity to exorcise it. That is, if Bel wants me to, of course.”

“Huh? What does that mean?”

Lord Ukhazol had on an inscrutable expression when he answered the boy’s question. “Bel was the one to invite the possession, on the condition that the spirit share its power with her. She chose this herself.”

““What?”” Shuna and I both sputtered.

“Must’a been round about ten days ago, Bel came to me for advice, askin’ if I knew how to get strong real quick. She told me she had to do somethin’ or she’d drag the party down. That ring a bell at all?”

Sure does.

Back when I still hadn’t figured out how to rearrange our formation to fill the gaps left by Arvin’s death, Bel came to see me at camp. We had a light meal and chatted, then I walked her back to the city. Come to think of it now, she’d started using and training with Arvin’s old equipment the very next day. According to Gladwein’s followers, Bel looked comfortable, and her movements were not of someone trying to wield heavy gear for the very first time, but I’d just chalked that up to previous experience.

“Sorry, Shuna. I think this one’s on me.” I didn’t have the wherewithal to really consider anything at the time.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Shuna glowered at me.

“Bel once asked me in a roundabout way how we’d set up our party formation without Arvin, but at that time, I still hadn’t figured it out yet and griped about the whole thing. If only I’d given her a clear answer, then maybe—”

“Wait, that’s it? I thought for sure you’d… No, forget it.”

You thought I’d what? Wait, wait, wait, I’d never lay a hand on Bel—I’m not that stupid. And it may be just for show, but I am technically married. Oh, but we did take elven vows, so I guess polygamy wouldn’t be an issue? Regardless, that’d just ruin our party’s morale.

Clearing his throat to grab our attention, Lord Ukhazol said, “I can’t tell y’all exactly what kind of deal Bel’s made with this being, but what I can say is this: If the worst should happen, and the girl asks me for help, I’ll go in an’ save her at all costs. Same goes for you, Shuna, my boy. For now, wait and see how she gets on. Girls her age can be fickle. For all we know, she might wake up tomorrow, decide she’s had enough, ’n’ give that thing in her the boot. Don’t y’all think too hard on this, especially you, Otherworlder. Exhaustion is written all over yer face. Seems my followers have given you a rough time.”

“Not really. If anything, I’m the one dragging them around.”

“That’s a yes, ain’t it?”

“N-no, really.”

“Isn’t it?”

Crumbling under Lord Ukhazol’s intense pressure, I reluctantly admitted, “……Y-yes.” Miffed, Shuna quickly turned his face away, unintentionally confirming the charge.

The King of the Tree Spirits turned to directly face me. “I could apologize ’til I’m blue in the face, but that wouldn’t do much for ya. So here, Otherworlder, let me bless ya with some of my graces. Though I doubt they’ll do much for yer expeditions, they can’t hurt to have, either.”

“Uuugh,” Shuna groaned unhappily. I mean, I’ll take it as long as it doesn’t interfere with anything else.

“Hold out your finger.”

“Okay.” I held out my index finger toward him, and Lord Ukhazol touched a digit to my fingertip. A small bright light bloomed where they met.

This feels exactly like E.T., except there’s a miniature grandpa on the other side instead of an alien.

“Right, my graces are now yours. It ain’t much to speak of seein’ as how I’m lower on the ranks ’n’ all, but go ahead ’n’ use ’em all you want.”

“Sorry, what does it do again?” Seemed important to know.

“Ye’re now the proud owner of the Tree Spirit King Lord Ukhazol’s power to…grow delicious vegetables!”

“That’s……amazing!!” Now that’s my kinda grace! I better make more room in our garden!! We’ll plant some garlic, cherry tomatoes, eggplant, herbs, bell peppers, cucumbers… The sky’s the limit. Our diet’s about to go wild with variety. I can make my very own Eden here!!

“But wait, that’s not all. Before ya start plantin’, raise your arms up to the heavens ’n’ call my name. I’ll throw in some preventative pain reduction from all the aches of farming.”

“Magnifique!” Hell yeah, this is what I call an Other Dimensional miracle—talk about a godsend! “Wait, can I just go ahead and do a full covenant with you? I’ll worship you like crazy, I promise.” It felt kind of like cheating on Lady Mythlanica and Lady Glavius, but this directly affected the offerings I could make for them. They probably wouldn’t mind if I made an exception just this once.

“Ahhh, as a fellow Otherworlder, I wish I could, my friend, but ya’d have to come all the way out to my island for that. My divinity’s tied to this land, ya see. I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it a thousand times, but I’m nothin’ fancy.”

“Nooo!”

“Souya, don’t be so dramatic. What good will planting some random vegetables do for our adventuring?”

“What. Did. You. Say?” He didn’t get it. I seized him by the shoulders. “Do you have any inkling how much work it is to prepare all our portable provisions and snacks for breaks in the dungeon?! Can you even imagine how much easier my life will be if I can grow my own tasty vegetables?! Can you?!”

The produce we got from the local farmers had an overpowering bitterness and primitive taste. But the biggest issue was the sloppy management of the items, which meant I had to sift through my haul after I bought it. Almost every day, I’d cut into something only to find wriggling worms inside. If we could plant our own vegetable garden at the campsite, Machina could take care of it and genetically engineer higher-quality strains. To top it off, our friendly god’s divine blessings would guarantee they’d taste good. I couldn’t ask for anything better. I’d have to start plowing the field straightaway.

“I mean, yeah, you’re a good cook, for sure. I’ll give you that. But if it’s that much of a pain to deal with, then why don’t you just buy the adventurers lunches?”

“Are you insaaane?! I can’t just feed growing girls and boys lumps of bread and butter!! They don’t even provide a fraction of the essential vitamins and nutrients your body needs, you know?!! And don’t get me started on how utterly unmotivated you all got when we used meal packs from the market. When we broke for lunch, you all looked over at me with sad puppy dog eyes and sighed, remember?! I sure as hell will never forget that! As if that weren’t enough, you didn’t even have a third of your usual fighting spirit, did you?! I can’t afford to slack off on our diet! Which reminds me, Shuna, you need to eat more vegetables. Actually, I’m just gonna start force-feeding them to you.”

“Fiiine, my bad. The tastier, the better. But I’m not eatin’ that flying-rabbit food. Not a chance in hell.”

I’ll show you hell—one where you’re crazy for vegetables! You’ll never even see it coming. One day, you’ll wake up and realize you just can’t live without them. Oh, wait, that’s just normal physiology.

“Hmm. I reckon I know more or less what ye’re made of now, Otherworlder. Keep it up and look after my devotees.”

“Of course.” Lord Ukhazol entrusted Shuna in my care. He didn’t have to tell me, though; I meant to look after them both all along.

“Shuna, leave the situation with Bel to her ’n’ me. You go on an’ focus on doin’ yer part. A human life is over as quick as a flash. Spend all yer days frettin’ ’bout someone else, and before ya know it, you’ll be an old man too weak to get up out of bed.”

“Okay, Lord Ukhazol, I understand,” the usually hardheaded Shuna obediently agreed. We didn’t get to see this side of him much.

“And eat yer vegetables.”

“………” Answer him, man! Can’t you see the God of Produce is talking to you?!

“Take good care of yerself now and do all in yer power to work for the greater good. There’s more ta life than the sword. Ya can learn ta fight like the greatest hero there be, but that ain’t gonna help ya when ya take yer hoe to the soil. People are meant ta face all sorts of challenges outside the battlefield, too, ya know. And you, my boy, have a home waitin’ for ya. If the city ever gets to be too much, ya can always come on home to the island.” The homely god sounded like an anxious parent worrying over their child who’d moved away to the Big Apple. “Ack, there I go again, gettin’ all preachy. Let’s leave it here for today, my boy. You call me again any time now, ya hear?”

Lord Ukhazol waved at us, and I waved back. He was a tiny little man, but a solid god.

“Souya.”

“Hmm?”

Shuna turned and asked, “What’re we gonna do about Bel? We still goin’ in the dungeon?”

“Well, there’s only one thing we can do. We’ve got to plan everything again from scratch,” I told him. “………Today’s expedition is canceled!”

What a mess.

“Raaagh,” I groaned like a zombie, rolling around in my tent. My plan, my beautiful plan I’d spent three whole days putting together… Now I had to do it aaall over again.

Why did we have to get blindsided like—? Well, I guess I should be thankful it happened out here instead of in the dungeon. Good thing I’d drilled the RCC (Report, Contact, Consult) basics into Shuna over and over again. I don’t even want to think about what could’ve gone wrong if he’d ignored Bel’s condition and we’d all gone adventuring as planned.

I tried asking the current Bel a bunch of questions, but she refused to answer a single one. The entity inside Bel instead declared an I will not respond unless the matter concerns the dungeon policy. This was the trickiest type of being to deal with. They seemed easy to work with but actually followed their own unique codes. If that set of rules didn’t mesh with the rest of the party, we’d have some real problems.

Before all this happened, Bel had proven exceptionally talented at negotiating with other parties. One smile from an angelic young girl like her disarmed and charmed like magic. Lana’s own people hated her, Shuna and Éa had hot and cold personalities that made it difficult to get along with others, and neither my appearance nor notoriety did me any favors. Without Arvin or Zenobia, Bel was our only diplomatic hope. And now we’d lost that advantage, and for what?

This is just not my day. What the hell are we supposed to do now? We’ve got to team up with another party to take a shot at the gatekeeper on the fourteenth floor. Am I gonna have what it takes to make that work out on my own? Though if worse comes to worst, I guess I can always try bribery.

For what it was worth, I gave Lana, Éa, Shuna, and Bel a generous bit of coin to observe what had been going on around the city. I also ordered them to spend the whole day deepening the bonds between them. I probably should’ve gone, too, but first, I had to readjust our plan of action. To be more exact, I had to start entirely from scratch.

“Graaaaaaaaaah!”

“Mr. Souya, you seem stressed.” Machina rolled up my tent’s entrance flaps. And just like that, I had a partner I could fully rely on.

“Sure am. It’s your time to shine, Machina.”

“Agreed.” An adorable smile flashed on the pot-barreled robot’s screen. “Okay, ready to get going?”

“Huh? Go where?”

“It’s a surpriiise! You’ll see when we get there!” she declared and led me off to this secretive spot.

Machina slung a bulging rucksack filled with provisions over her back, and I picked up another backpack carrying condiments, plates, and utensils. Unsold pasta made up the majority of the food we lugged. My Phantom Pasta creation I’d been so sure would take off flopped—hard. No, seriously, it was such a disaster, it felt like some cruel joke.

Aside from that, I geared up the same as always: poncho over my camouflage fatigues, ryvius and coral necklace hanging from my neck, my decked-out AI gizmo glasses on, a woodsman’s hatchet at my side, and a karambit in my pocket. Arrows, my unstrung bow, and enchanted sword were tucked away in a quiver that hung from my waist. Not the classiest getup, but adventurer etiquette required one to show up in full battle mode.

The two of us set off across the meadow, moving away from the city. Our objective: a change of pace. A little while before this, Machina had been rolling around the meadow (to blow off steam) when she got herself impossibly stuck, wedged in between two boulders. As it happened, someone chanced upon her and helped her out. Today we were going to thank them for the favor. Personally, I was more interested in scoping out this savior who had seen Machina—just in case.

“………Huh?” As we strolled over the grassy fields, I realized something felt a little off. “Hang on, Machina.” I take that back—“a little” didn’t cut it.

“Yeees?”

“What is that supposed to be?” I asked, pointing at the Machina Unit’s nether regions. A white sphere affixed to the bottom of the unit spun three hundred sixty degrees to propel my metallic partner over the meadow. Modern-day laws and a special treaty prohibited AI bots from acting autonomously, though Machina had come up with a whole range of excuses to get around those restrictions in the past. This, however, was a blatant breach of contract.

“It is an emergency measure to get me out of trouble if I ever get stuck again. I can’t expect someone to come save me every time, sooo—emergency measure, e-mer-gen-seeee?”

“No, no, no, you know you can’t go around breaking the law like that. You’re not even trying to hide it.” Eventually, she’d cut loose and do goodness knows what. And I had a bad feeling I’d lose all control over her.

“Mr. Souya, this modification is necessary for our expeditions.”

Ugh, it’s like déjà vu. Except she’s the one throwing my own words back at me. “Are you really gonna use that excuse to justify every little thing?”

“Hey, Mr. Souya, Mr. Souya, guess what? I have kept a meticulous video record of the moves necessary for our expeditions you have made—every single one. Oddly enough, most of the clips happen to show you cozying up to different ladies, but I’d be happy to share it with Mistress Lana if—”

“That’s one good emergency measure right there! You gotta do what you gotta do!” Shit. She has me by the short hairs.

“Exactly! I knew you’d understand! I had no other choice!”

“Of course! Plus, we’re in the Other Dimension, after all! Even cheating isn’t against the rules here!”

“Nice try! That could not be further from the truth!”

“………Fine.” C’mon, you should have agreed with me there.

“The elven race sees jealousy as an extremely ugly emotion, perhaps due to their tradition of polygamous marriage. They believe it is only natural for elves to embody beauty itself, so one can imagine how they might view envy as an acknowledgment of defeat. However, that does not necessarily mean Mistress Lana would feel comfortable watching you flirt with other women. I do not have the authority to restrict your sex life, but I would urge you to think veeeeeeery carefully before you fool around with a woman. Oh, sorry, should I append ‘or a man’ to that as well?”

“Absolutely not!!” Love is love, but I loved the ladies.

“For now, please exercise extra care around Lady Lanceil.”

“I’m trying, but she’s a force to be reckoned with.” She came on strong, both emotionally and physically.

“Maybe all beastfolk share this trait? Lady Lanceil does indeed take a very proactive approach, but do you think she really means it?”

“No, my money says she’s working under the king’s orders.” King Remlia must have ordered her to do it. He had no shortage of reasons to gather intel on me. Case in point, all the foreign technology, machinery, and goods I’d brought with me from Japan. Plus, we couldn’t forget he’d been covertly hunting beasts.

King Remlia didn’t trust his allied nation, Ellusion, at all. Actually, maybe international ties didn’t rely on trust at all, but on a web of lies and deception sly snakes and wily foxes spun to fool the other.

“In that case, I’ll go ahead and raise the safety locks two levels just for Lady Lanceil. Sound good?”

“Please do.” I seriously doubted the possibility, but if Lanceil wasn’t simply following orders but acting out of pure feelings toward me, then……what would I do? “So are we almost there yet?” I asked, shifting between my internal and external dialogues.

“It’s just up ahead.” The only things close to the campsite were the Heuress Forest, where the elves lived, and the Remlian farmlands that bordered it. Apart from that, the meadow stretched on uninterrupted as far as the eye could see.

Now that I think of it, does anyone else even live around here? “Hmm?” I stopped in my tracks.

“Is something wrong?”

I’d paused at the site of my battle against a certain hero—the same place I’d fought the enchanted sword now peacefully stored in my quiver. Red flowers bloomed all over the spot. Their spiky leaves and stems pricked any skin unfortunate enough to come in contact with them. Even the tubular crimson flowers looked thorny. Though strikingly similar to the red spider lilies said to line the shores of the afterworld, they were, in fact—

“Thistles, Mr. Souya.”

“Why are they only blooming here?” No, that wasn’t true. The flowers traced across the meadow as if chasing after something, marking a path with the blooms left in their wake. To me, the deep-crimson petals appeared to also be purifying the ground of some evil curse.

“Fascinating, isn’t it? This shade of red is almost the exact color of human blood. You can refer to Machina’s Believe It or Not, Otherworldly Mysteries for more information.”

Is that really a thing? I am so down to read that.

“Careful with the thorns! These flowers grow in denser clusters where we’re going,” Machina advised, then continued happily plodding along. We walked roughly five kilometers, following the thistles like a trail made of breadcrumbs. The entire way, I traveled with emotions I couldn’t name or fit into any neat compartments. Then up ahead—

“This can’t be real.”

—we came to a vast blanket of innumerable crimson thistles. Beautiful, yet hellish. It was here I’d slain that unsightly beast. It was also the very same spot where we’d crash-landed into this dimension and found an abandoned dungeon whose history none in Remlia could recount.

“Mr. Gaslark—!” Machina called out to someone as she rolled away, leaving me frozen in place, dumbfounded at the sight before us.

“Ohhh, you came.” A small figure waved from within the ocean of red blossoms. At around a hundred twenty centimeters, he stood about as tall as Machina. The hood of his cape completely hid his face from view, but I caught glimpses of thin, green arms and legs beneath the fabric. It was way too late in the game for a little green skin to throw me off guard, but I didn’t see that every day. Actually, I had a pretty good guess I knew who he might be. Following after Machina, I approached the hooded figure.

“Mr. Souya, Mr. Gaslark represents the people who came to my rescue.”

“Gaslark Oz Melphorjuna Ghazuzuosm Oggeumuzeus,” the green creature introduced himself. Sliding off his hood, he revealed a perfectly bald head, pointy ears, and the long, hooked nose of—a goblin. He looked exactly like the kind that starred at the top of every RPG’s weakest monster list, except for one crucial distinguishing feature: the undeniable intelligence that shone through his eyes and expressions. He felt somehow familiar, so I greeted him without much added formality.

“Souya, the Otherworlder. Thank you for kindly coming to my partner’s aid. It’s not much, but we’ve coming bearing a few gifts to show our appreciation.”

“Machina spoke naught but truth. Verily, thou holdest no prejudices toward other races, dost thou? Might that be because thou hailst from another world? Even so, I imagine most races would find it natural to discriminate against those of differing appearances, would thou not agree? But seeing thou dost not have such beliefs, that must imply thy parents, or perhaps thy master, taught thee exceptionally well, or that thou hailst from a magnanimous land. In any event, allow me to extend a warm welcome to the domain we small-statured goblins claim. Treat us as equals, and we shall return the favor.”

I hadn’t been looking down on him or anything, but he was clearly an upright, noble representative of his people. “Pardon the question, but by any chance, did you and your kin plant these flowers?” I asked, using the first chance I got to address my most burning question.

“Yeah, dude.” “Yeah, dude”? “Look, talking all formal like that gets old quick, so let’s just speak casually. Y’all are cool to do the same.”

“Uh, great. Thanks.” He’s a total bro! Where did we ever get the impression that goblins were mean-spirited, slimy, sneaky gremlins?

“Those are crimson mortalis. The other night we heard this crazy bang, bang, bang pounding above our home. And the next day, we find out someone had made a huuuge mess of our lands. People are cold, man.”

Immediately, I dropped to my knees in dogeza. Shit, these flowers hurt! Suck it up!

“That was my fault! I’m so sorry! I had no idea anyone lived below the ground!!”

“Yeah, I know.” You knew?! “I mean, I don’t really know what kinda of trouble you above-grounders get into, but it sounded like you were really goin’ for it, so. No hard feelings.”

“Th-thank you so much.” Damn, so forgiving. Is it really safe for goblins to be so easygoing?

“The ground was wicked contaminated for sure, but it’s nothin’ we can’t purify. You’re good.”

“You can do that?!” Wait, goblins knew how to exorcise curses? But I’d heard there was basically no way to lift them. “Can I ask you—?” I started to ask the friendly imp another question, when—

“Get away from my brother, goblin!”

—out of nowhere, Éa showed up, interrupting our conversation at the most frustrating moment. An arrow nocked on her readied bow pointed straight at the forehead of the little green man—who stood next to her brother lying prostrate on the ground.

I get how bad this looks, but why did she have to show up now?

“Éa, calm down.”

“Are you okay?! Did he do anything to you?!”

“I’m fine; just listen to me!”

“Goblins are a nasty race that snatch people and violate them until they die! Step away!”

“Hey, elf.” Ah, shit. He’s pissed. And you do not want to get on the bad side of creatures on the more intelligent end of the spectrum. “Tell me, are your folk so twisted that they get off raping pigs and horses?”

“What did you say?!” Éa’s emotions had clearly passed its boiling point.

“To us, elves and heims look like nothing but boars and mares. Only perverts get their rocks off looking at livestock.”

“Excuuuse me?! That literally makes no sense!” was my little sister’s Valley-girl retort.

The green dude made a good point. If humans didn’t find goblins attractive, then it wouldn’t make sense for goblins to be into humans. Like Gaslark said, only real weirdos would break that mold.

“All right, elf, riddle me this: Can you honestly tell me you’ve got friends or relatives who have been sexually assaulted by one of us?”

“Yeah, a friend of a friend!” Right, that’s definitely a lie. It was probably just gossip fabricated to titillate or a story spun to bad-mouth someone. I could imagine the beauty-obsessed elves did not look too kindly on goblins to begin with.

“Éa, just put your bow down, or I’m seriously gonna get mad.”

“No. Way. In. Hell!” Once Éa’s temper flared, she wouldn’t listen to anyone. It’d been that way for ages.

……Huh? Ages?

“Wait, rewind. Otherworlder, why’s she calling you ‘brother’?” the goblin asked. Yeah, I’d be curious, too.

“This is my little sister.”

“A heim? With an elven sister?”

“Mr. Souya’s wife is an elf!” Machina helpfully added.

“Dude, are you insane?”

“Eyes on me, goblin!” Éa barked as soon as she wasn’t in the spotlight. Even with an arrow pointed straight at him, the little green guy didn’t so much as flinch.

“Éa, I’m telling you that’s enou—” She’d gone too far. Just as I was about to restrain her, my blood ran cold, paralyzing me. A frigid gust blew through the crimson blossoms.

“Our sovereign has arrived.” As soon as the goblin spoke, a black whirlwind spun tightly together and coalesced into a human figure—a skeleton draped in a black cape. It had the bone structure of a shorter heim and blue fire smoldering in its eye sockets. A necklace of triangular golden shards hung from its neck, each fragment a piece from the remains of a shattered royal crown—the mark of one who had slain a king.

Pops had once told me over drinks about an ancient tradition of the Right Continent. Apparently, those who committed regicide would snap apart their victim’s crown, string together the broken hunks of gold along with the ears or finders of the fallen monarch, then wear it as a necklace. Assassinating a king held no glory; it heralded the collapse of a kingdom. Those who nonetheless murdered monarchs gained, in this world, the title of—

“Behold, the one true ruler reigning over we diminutive subjects, the Dark Lord of the Forbidden Land, Gormlaith Melphorjuna Gastolfo.”

—Yeah, what he said: Dark Lord. My heart raced. The beast within me began to stir.

“What the hell is that?” Éa asked, trembling. I couldn’t blame her. This opponent was on an entirely different level. An incomprehensible, icy black aura diametrically opposite any godly presence emanated from the figure. I’d felt this sensation once before when I’d first dropped into this world. Images of a colossal creature writhing in the darkness, of tentacles blooming open like petals came back to me. Why had these memories slipped my mind for so long? It was truly mysterious.

“Agaccion!” Answering my call, the enchanted blade leaped from the quiver.

“Agh!” The shout surprised the goblin, but I couldn’t worry about that now. Apologies could wait.

“Destroy that bow!” Agaccion slashed Éa’s weapon in half. The bowstring snapped, sending the nocked arrow straight into, of all places, Machina’s head.

“Eyaaaaaaaah!” the bot shrieked, but I ignored her.

“Y-Yaya, what are you—? Wait, what’s wrong with your eyes?”

Forcing Éa to her knees, I pushed her head down. “Please allow me to sincerely apologize for my younger sister’s brazen irreverence. A child she may be, but that cannot absolve her from the sin of turning her bow on your subject—nay, on a person. We shall accept any punishment you justly decree; however, I beseech you to allow me to accept it on her behalf. To begin, may I offer you one of my arms?” Calling Agaccion back to me, I stretched out my left arm.

The Dark Lord considered this silently for a long moment, then whispered into the goblin’s ear.

“Thus says my sovereign: ‘O beast of golden eyes, thy humble apology has tempered our rage. Keep thine heim arm; we have no wish to fill our halls with such trifles.’”

“My heart bleeds with respect for your magnanimous wisdom and generosity.” Had I been alone, I might’ve taken another course of action, but I couldn’t risk a violent confrontation with Éa there. I’d only put her in harm’s way. And I could never use my last resort around other people, much less those I’d sworn to protect.

And who the heck is the golden-eye beast? Me?

“Éa, you apologize, too.”

“Why?! All I did was worry about you! I didn’t even do anything!” Éa yelled back in anger, swatting my hand away. While blissfully ignorant, my elven sister sure had nerves of steel to act so audaciously before a regent of evil. She was treading dangerous waters and picking a fight with the worst possible opponent.

Every world is full of injustice, and sometimes, you just have to apologize even when you’re not to blame, my sweet little sister. Plus, they seem like reasonable people (I hope), so your best bet is to spit the words out. Not to mention, we’re ten out of ten entirely in the wrong here.

“Look, I’m asking nicely. Do it for me.”

“I don’t wanna!”

She left me no choice. Softly, ever so softly, I brought my hand down on Éa, the momentum driving the motion, but I slowly reduced the speed as I closed in so that by the time I finally slapped her, I might as well have been stroking her cheek. It was the most I could muster.

“Éa, you let your prejudices and incorrect assumptions sway you and threatened innocent people at arrow-point. These two recently came to Machina’s rescue. Do you really think that’s a fit way for an heir to the Heuress bloodline to behave?”

Stupefied, Éa crumpled her face up into a teary mess. “……B-but I…I di-didn’t…didn’t do…,” she stuttered, huge teardrops spilling down as she began to cry. “Yaya, you shtupid piiiiiiiiiig!” The dam broke loose. What the—? I didn’t see that coming. In the past, she’d always just get pissed and beat the shit out of me.

“Weeeaaaaaah!” she wailed. It was pretty hilarious, actually. No, what was I saying? I’d messed up big-time. The elf, whose appearance looked like a fully grown woman, bawled and sobbed like a child.

“Machina! Help me out!”

“Uhhh, ummm, uhhh!” she fretted.

Ugh, you useless piece of junk! And this is all your fault to begin with! You better remember this!!

“Weaaaaah! Muuuheaaaaah!” Unconcerned by the Dark Lord standing before her, my little sister howled on, her tantrum growing louder. It was clearly grating on Gaslark’s nerves.

“All right, all right, it’s all my fault, so stop crying already. Cheer up,” I pleaded. Rummaging through my pockets, I found a piece of emergency candy I carried for Lana. “Here, say aaah.”

“Mngh……” Once she popped the strawberry candy in her mouth, the elf grew quiet. I started to stroke her hair, and she clung to me like a koala. Despite the mortification I felt at doing this in public, I plopped her down on my lap and rubbed her back to soothe her. Yeah, you better believe I got a guilty pleasure out of role-playing as a father to grown-ass woman. Or more accurately, playing her big brother.

“Hey, Machina, Ms. Sixth-Generation AI Bot.”

“Yes, what can I do for you?”

“Could you not have sensed her coming? I left Yukikaze at camp because I had you with me, you know. ♪”

“I-I-I’m terribly sorry. My sensors haven’t been working so great recently.”

“Then tell me that. Report everything to me immediately.”

“Eeep! Mr. Souya, are you angry?”

“Ha-ha, no, of course not. But, why don’t you and I have a little alone time after we get back?”

“You’re totally angry! Nooo!”

“Weeeaaahhh!” Éa began to wail again.

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” I cooed. “That was scary, I know. I’m sorry.” I continued to stroke her hair.

I shot Machina a look saying, You’re dead. An EEEEEK! popped up on her screen.

“More candy,” the disconsolate elf demanded.

“Sorry, Éa. Those’re for Lana.” Tears welled in her eyes.

“Lady Éa! Guess what? I’m about to make you something soooo much better! Just hold on like a good girl for a little while, okay?!”

“Really?”

“Really, really!”

“Hey, uh, can I cut in a sec?” the little gremlin asked apologetically. “My sovereign says: ‘Shall we postpone until the morrow?’”

“No, it’s all right! I’ll whip dinner up for my master’s little sister in a jiffy! Also, I’ll be putting my livelihood at risk if I don’t smooth this over!”

From a little distance away, Machina quickly pulled out a portable burner, laid out the cooking utensils, and got a cooking fire started. Strangely enough, the goblin and Demon Lord both stood close by, studying her work.

“Mr. Souya, this stressful situation has reduced my capabilities by fifteen percent. I’ll share my video feed just in case, so please let me know if I’m about to make a mistake,” the AI bot announced. Video footage of Machina’s point of view while cooking appeared on my glasses’ screen.

Éa had completely switched over to cuddle-monster mode, nuzzling up against me as she held on tight. A guy could use something like this every once in a while.

“Now, I’d like to prepare a meal to thank you for kindly saving me and as an apology for our rudeness. Oh, also, to cheer Lady Éa up and calm Mr. Souya down! I’m going to put my whole heart into this! First, we fry the ingredients together,” Machina explained, then pulled out a slab of thoroughly spiced pork thigh. “I’ve marinated this pork in a spice blend Mr. Gaslark kindly gave me.”

“Wait, what kind of spice?” I had to know. I didn’t have the best history with Remlian spices. Tongue-burning and sour, they drew up foul memories in me.

“It’s a mixture of several plant species the goblins raise underground that are similar to cumin, coriander, cardamom, and turmeric. It also contains a blend of herbs foraged in the Heuress Forest; these are kind of like cloves, nutmeg, and cinnamon. Together, they combine to form one Other Dimensional seasoning, hereafter known as ‘Long-Ears Seasoning’!”

Yeah, that name needed to go. “Machina, long-ears is a derogatory term for elves. Don’t use it.”

“Known as ‘Remlian Seasoning’!”

“Good bot.”

“Ooh, that smells good.” My little sister perked up. The aromatic seasoning tugged at my heartstrings. It was a nostalgic fragrance, the kind that lured children home from a day out playing. It also happened to be my late grandfather’s best recipe. Though to be fair, my grandfather made nothing but the best.

“The meat has been parboiled, so it only needs a tiiiny bit of grilling. Then all that’s left to do is add a generous helping of crushed tomatoes, a good splash of white wine, and grated apple, and this part is done.”

The metal chef then took out a frying pan. “Next, we make a paste to add more flavor. Simply add grated onion, garlic, and ginger to your pan and sauté them juuust like this,” Machina continued, cheerfully stirring the ingredients around. She’d worked as a cooking robot back in the modern world, and it showed; she expertly handled the task with her metal arms and fingers. “Once they’re nice and fragrant, add the spices and milk, then mix, mix, miiix ♪, mix, mix, miiix ♪, mix up real good, mix up real good. ♪ Moe—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there.”

“Yes, Mr. Souya.” She’d gotten dangerously close to showing an aspect of Japanese culture that would be misunderstood here. Even so, some damage had already been done. “Now that the paste is done, we add it to the pot and let it simmer for a little while.”

She dumped the paste in and stirred everything together. Once I got a good look, I saw she was using the pressure cooker. Machina covered the pot and left it to do its thing. She then stepped away from the cooking and turned to set up our folding table and chairs. The Dark Lord laid out the tableware.

Wha—? Huh?! No, no, no, this is all wrong! We can’t let our guest set the table!

“Éa, I have to help out as well. Can you get down?”

“Nuh-uh.” She refused to leave my side. In fact, she doubled down on her viselike grip. How is it that both sisters react the exact same way?! I can’t stand being trapped!

“So, uh, I’m pretty sure I heard you say somethin’ wild before. Did you really get hitched to an elf?” the laid-back goblin inquired.

“Oh yeah.”

“What clan’s she from?”

“Heuress.”

“Huh? Wait, Heuress? As in, the forest over there?” he asked, surprised. “Ahhh, yeah, you know what? Now that you mention it, I’ve seen that gauntlet somewhere before.”

“Yes, as in the Heuress Forest. Her name is Laualliuna Raua Heuress, daughter of Mellum Raua Heuress. And this one’s her younger sister, Éa,” I explained, gesturing to the crybaby on my lap. “King Remlia gave us his blessing, but my wife’s father was against our marriage and even disowned her because of that.”

“Ahhh, yeah. Elves do that, don’t they?” Éa looked like she was about to say something, but I squeezed hard to keep her quiet. A few strokes over her silky hair, and she calmed down again. “Gotta say, you’re kind of an oddball, dude.”

“Um, thanks.” I’d bet money I was the only Japanese person to ever have a goblin call him weird. Though to be fair, most non-Japanese people probably saw us all in a similar boat.

“Here, for you.”

“Huh?” The little green man handed me a small pouch. I peeked inside and saw a bunch of seeds.

“You’re into flowers, right?”

“Not exactly. I was just curious about those red ones.”

“Perfect, then; those are seeds for the crimson mortalis.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind.” Were these something he should be giving out so freely? “But aren’t these pretty valuable?”

“Naaah. Oh, but I doubt the above-grounders round here got any. You can harvest ’em from the flowers, though.” Interestiiing.

“If you’ll allow another ignorant question, would you by any chance know how to lift a curse afflicting a human?” People from every race and every culture had their strengths and weaknesses. Maybe for goblins, removing a curse was as easy as—

“Not gonna happen, dude.”

Scratch that.

“You mean a heim hex, right? Yeah, I don’t know much about those.”

“Of course, silly question.”

It’s never that easy, is it? Still, flowers that purge curses, huh? They probably only work on the soil where they grow, but that in itself is a worthwhile discovery.

The hook-nosed goblin walked away to join his regent, who was currently setting out bowls and spoons. Thanks, guys. Also, I’m really, really sorry, guys.

For a while after that, I passed the time sitting on a bed of crimson flowers, gazing up at the tranquil skies. I felt the gentle rays of the sun luring me to sleep and heard the goblin and Machina chat, noting the gentle clattering of dishes. Enticing aromas of deliciousness wafted over the meadow. Éa had fallen asleep, her chin still resting on my shoulder.

A black-caped skeleton and a green gremlin sat plopped down at a picnic table while a cylindrical AI bot spun around singing to herself in front of a pressure cooker. Talk about surreal. This had to be the strangest scene I’d encountered so far in the Other Dimension. Yet lulled perhaps by my sister’s body warmth, I felt drowsiness creep over me, and my eyelids slowly grew heavy.

Oh yeah. I hardly slept last night. Man, I’m beat. So tired.

………

“Mr. Souya! It’s reaaady!”

I’d dozed off.

Checking my watch, I saw an hour had passed.

“Whaaa—?!” Startled, Éa woke up.

“Can you taste-test it for me? Though, we all know my seasoning is always perfect!”

“Éa, do you mind?” I slid my dazed sister off my lap and laid her down on the meadow, then draped my poncho over her. She snuggled up and fell right back to sleep. “Lemme see.”

I approached the pot. Inside, I found a dark-brown stew simply filled with nothing but morsels of pork. Machina had made curry using Otherworldly ingredients from scratch. Of course, real curry just referred to a type of seasoning, so more accurately, this was Japanese-style curry. But getting into the fine details on the individual types of the dish would only make things more complicated, so let’s just go with curry.

I ladled a bit of the curry into a small bowl and took a bite.

“Da—” Damn, that’s good. Hearty and full, the flavors from all the ingredients danced together like Rockettes. But—

“It’s a little sour. Could use some salt, too.”

“What…did you say?” Machina spluttered.

After adding a pinch of salt, I stirred the stew again. “It needs something…to round out the flavors a bit.” I scanned the Tupperware Machina had brought, picked one, and said, “Let’s use this.” And I threw shredded cheese into the pot. “Oh, and a little of this and this.” Milk and honey. Mix, mix, mix.

Experience had taught me that the races on the smaller side here tended to have somewhat childish palettes. Once, I’d hosted a high priest of the Church of Flames and another from the Jumichla Healing Temple. Coincidentally, the two small beastfolk had not appreciated the meal’s strong flavors, instead preferring what you might serve a kid. In other words, our guests today would probably not appreciate the acidity in the tomatoes or the more pungent spices, either. Everyone tolerated a different level of spiciness. We’d brought along a little jar of crushed red peppers, so I’d just ask our guests to add whatever they liked to their own bowls.

I took another taste. “Mmm, nice and mellow.” The acidity had lessened, and the saltiness and hearty flavor came through more. It made me want to mix some rice in. Though perhaps a little unsatisfying for an adult, the curry would probably be a hit for younger customers.

“Grrrrrr.” Machina ground her gears, frustrated. I smirked back at her.

“So what will we eat this with?”

“Potatoes from the underground goblin dungeon and pasta with garlic and chili flakes.”

“Then let’s get to it.”

I plucked a potato out of a boiling pot of water and transferred the pasta from the frying pan onto a plate, leaving half of it empty. In that space, I then ladled out the curry, going heavy on the pork morsels. This was no time to skimp. Visually, it wasn’t very appealing, so I garnished the potato with medicinal shoots and grated cheese over the curry. For the final touch, I added a few slices of homemade pickled onions.

“Guess that about does it, huh?”

“I reckon it does, partner.”

After preparing four more portions, I served the dishes, placing them on the table. Éa jolted awake as soon as she caught a whiff of the meal. For someone who’d been so scared, she seemed surprisingly at ease when she took her seat—right across from the Dark Lord.

“Thank you all for your patience. I call this Goblin curry.”

“Curry? And that is…?” my green guest wondered.

“It’s actually quite interesting. You see, it all goes back to a former allied nation called Engla—”

Éa clamped her hand over my mouth. “Yaya, I’m starving. Save it.”

“Mr. Souya, you should really read the room.” I haven’t even started yet!

The goblin grabbed his spoon and dug right in. “Ohhh. Ohhh-ho.” The utensil clacked against the bowl as he went back for more. He used his spoon to slice the potato, coated the chunk in curry, and took his time, enjoying every mouthful.

“………” The Dark Lord had begun eating, too.

But you’re a skeleton, so how…? Or so I pondered, but the mystery soon solved itself. As soon as the cloaked regent took a spoonful of the curry, everything but the utensil dissolved into light and got absorbed into the bones.

“………” Wordlessly, the Dark Lord kept eating. Does it satisfy their taste buds? I can’t tell. There’s no reading this one. “………”

Seeming to notice my gaze, the skeleton tapped the little green guy, then whispered something once again. For a second, I thought it was cute—then grew horrified at myself for thinking it.

“Thus decrees my lord: ‘The majesty you see here is one of my most closely held secrets, a magical technique called Ghelmganse Necrosia. The high magic spell digests what sustenance I intake and sends the taste to my soul. Terrifying, would you not agree? Bwa-ha-ha-ha!’ I want to focus on this, though, so I’ll tell you the rest later, dude.”

Our two unusual guests went back to their meals.

“Mm!” Right on cue, my little sister—

“This is so yummy! Don’t the instant-ramen packages come in this flavor?!”

—started wolfing it down. I had a Dark Lord (skeleton), a green goblin, and an elven princess (technically) before me, and the elf by far had the worst table manners. Or maybe the skeletal lord and the little guy were just extra polite.

“Yaya! I want it spicier. And some mayonnaise for the potato! I don’t want the pasta!” She had a point; the noodles didn’t mesh well with the rest of the dish. It didn’t taste bad per se, but it sort of clashed with the flavors. I set the jars of chili flakes and mayonnaise in front of her.

“What a waste. It’s wicked good already,” noted the goblin. “Elves are truly rude.”

“Shut it! Just shut your big goblin mouth!” Éa snapped, then sprinkled an exorbitant amount of crushed peppers and a huge dollop of mayonnaise on her plate. She then smashed the potatoes and mixed them in with her curry before resuming her meal. “Mmm-mmm-mmmm!” She looked ecstatic.

Taking my own seat, I got started on my curry, too. Hmm, it’s got a kick to it, but it’s not spicy hot. A bit simple for my preference, but lovely when paired with the potatoes, which made the juicy pork taste even better as it melted in my mouth.

Ahhh, rice. What I wouldn’t give for some white rice. But Lana just, you know, has such fun cooking it. I’ve only got about three kilos left—I can’t waste a single grain.

“Oh.” Glancing over, I saw the undead sovereign had cleared their plate. “Machina, time for seconds.”

“On iiit!” When the cylindrical bot approached, the Dark Lord handed her the empty dish.

“Hold on, Machina! Gimme more, too!”

“On it like a bonnet!!” Refusing to fall behind, Éa cleaned her plate and held it out for Machina as well. Meanwhile, the hook-nosed gremlin continued to patiently make his way through his meal, little by little. I decided to stop worrying so much and turned my attention to my curry, enjoying the taste I hadn’t had in a while. In the end, the skeletal sovereign had seven servings, Éa had five, the goblin had three, and I came in at two.

“Uuugh, how did all that curry fit in there?” Éa moaned. “That skeleton’s nothing but bones.”

“Hey, watch it.” She was walking on thin ice. You’re talking to a Dark Lord, remember? One false move, and you could be picking the fight of your life, you know?

Uncomfortably full, Éa cradled her stomach and stretched out on the meadow, showing poor etiquette.

“Man, you elves really don’t have any manners,” the gremlin called her out. She’d had it coming.

“He’s right; you’re being very rude. Take a seat,” I gently scolded her. Anything harsher might start the waterworks again, and I couldn’t have that.

“Excuse me, Lady Éa, but why did you follow us here? Where are Lord Shuna, Lady Bel, and Mistress Lana?” Machina asked. I’d been curious about that, too, but the tense confrontation had pushed the question out of mind.

“Oh! ……I forgot. I headed back to camp to get a talkie device, but then I saw you two walking off and followed you.”

“And where are the others?”

“Probably having a drink at the boss’s bar.”

“Go home now,” I ordered. “I’m worried about Lana.”

“I will. Just let my stomach settle a bit.”

“Fine, but at least sit in a proper chair.” It was bad enough for her to expose her little, long legs. This was too much.

“Yaya, carry me.” She stretched her arms toward me. We’re in public, you know? In front of a Dark Lord, no less. “Carry meee,” she whined while swaying her arms around.

………Guess I can’t say no!

Sliding my hands beneath her legs and under her arm, I picked the petulant elf up and, as one would call it, princess-carried her over to the table to put her down, but I failed in my attempt. She’d wrapped her arms around my neck.

“Éa, let go.”

“I don’t wanna.” What kind of idiot goes around cuddling with his little sister in front of a regicidal overlord? If this got me killed, it wouldn’t even be funny.

“Machina.”

“On iiit.”

“Hey! Wait, Yaya!”

I peeled my stubborn sister off me and handed her to Machina. “Take her back to camp. Don’t let her go until you get there.”

“Roger that.”

“Waiiiiiiiit!”

Elven princess in tow, Machina scuttled off, disappearing across the meadow. That emergency measure really did come in handy. I turned back toward the Dark Lord and the goblin, both sipping after-dinner tea. “I’m so terribly sorry for my sister’s rude behavior.”

“Thus says my Lord: ‘O Otherworlder, this curry was truly an exquisite feast. If you would agree to reveal your recipe for the seasoning, I shall forgive all your trespasses against—’” The cloaked skeleton poked the goblin midsentence. “C’mon, man, that elf was so rude.”

“Um, I’d be happy to share the recipe if that’s—”

“Don’t be silly! You’ve got to keep your cooking secrets safe! Don’t just give them away so easily!”

Who said that?

“My lord, not sure you wanna speak for—”

“Well, I wanna be part of the conversation, too!” The girlie voice came from the skeleton. Though clearly older, it had a youthful timbre and was cute like Machina’s. The voice sounded like something you’d hear in an anime, a cloying concoction of honey and simple syrup.

“Let me introduce myself again. My name is Gormlaith Melphorjuna Gastolfo. Though currently a sinister spirit who ascended to the throne of Dark Lord, I once devoted my life to the prosperity of the Great Land as an adventurer and descendant of Lady Gastolfo, Goddess of Fertility.”

For a moment, I froze up, and my expression went blank. Then the nerves from the dire situation and a whole crazy mix of emotions bubbled together, and—

“Pffft!”

—I burst out in laughter.

“That’s so mean!”

“S-sorry, hee-hee. Pfft, ha-ha, heh-heh-heh.” I couldn’t help it. The harder I tried to hold it in, the harder I laughed. That voice—it was too much. C’mon, who’d ever expect a Dark Lord to talk like a girly girl?! She was intimidating with her bones and cape, but she had the most adorable, syrupy-sweet voice!

I—I can’t. I’m dead.

Knowing full well how rude I was being, I couldn’t keep my smile in check. I fell over cackling, then pounded the ground. The everyday stress probably added to my strong reaction. My emotions seemed ready to explode, and just as I was about to burst out roaring with laughter—I hit myself repeatedly over the head with Agaccion’s blade.

“……I’m sorry, that was incredibly disrespectful of me.” Good, now I’m in way too much pain to laugh.

“Um, you’re bleeding.”

“Don’t worry. It’s just a scratch.” The sun was still high in the sky, but I was seeing stars.

“See? Told ya.” The goblin sighed.

“Someone else once guffawed at me like this before. Exactly what is so funny?” the skeletal sovereign demanded to know, arms crossed, twisting side to side, sulking. Stop, I’m begging you! Don’t add to the hilarity by acting like a pouting little princess!

I glanced at the goblin, hinting Tell her! Ah! He ignored me.

“In any case, you really must keep your recipes, your brainstorming process and its related notes, and any clues to your techniques a secret. You could pour your whole heart and soul into those creations, but there will always be sly thieves who’ll steal your work and parade it around as if it were their own. Do you understand me?”

She made a very good point, but the disconnect between her appearance and her voice threatened to permanently tear my face in two from smiling so much. I pinched my inner thigh with all the strength I had to suppress the laughter.

“All the same, Otherworlder, if you absolutely insist on presenting me with your recipe, I will accept it on one condition: Take this.” The Dark Lord fished a needle out of her cloak and handed it to me. Upon closer inspection, I could see detailed lettering carved into it.

“What is this?”

“The key to your gauntlet.”

“Wha—?” I looked down at the piece of armor on my left wrist. Though called Heuress’s Gauntlet, it was actually a present Heuress had given to his lover, Lümidia. After her death, the Heuress family passed the heirloom down through many generations. The metal glove contained a small amount of magic and was apparently impossible to re-create with current technology.

“The gauntlet you bear belongs to a suit of armor I made ages and ages ago. I’m surprised any of it has survived this long. Unless I’m mistaken, you can’t remove it, can you?”

“No, I can’t.” It wouldn’t come off. At this point, it felt like one with my body; I sometimes forgot I had it on. According to Machina’s analysis, it was made of a material with antibacterial properties, so there were no problems regarding hygiene. Over and over, I’d tried to remove it, but it seemed like my nerves had fused together with the metal, and every pull put me in excruciating pain. It didn’t impede my life in any other way, though, so I’d given up on trying to part with it.

“If memory serves……there should be a small keyhole on the inside toward the right.”

I looked and did indeed find a small hole. Then I inserted the needle into the slot.

“Huh?” Immediately, the gauntlet cracked open and fell to the ground. For the first time in a long while, I took a good look at my own arm. It hadn’t changed much at all.

“Now that’s much safer.”

“Safer?”

“Sadly, an elf of ages past corrupted its functions with a curse, one that enchants and subordinates people of other races. You should now be free of its hold and have full control of your mind once more.”

“Say what?” My head swam.

“Ah man, you got brainwashed by an elf? That sucks, dude.” The green imp came up to me and patted my shoulder in sympathy. If anything, I felt at greater risk of getting brainwashed standing with a Dark Lord on one side and a goblin on the other.

“Does that resonate with you at all?”

“Resonate?” I’d started wearing the gauntlet after getting into a fistfight with the moronic prince, who’d swiftly beat me to a pulp. Lana was the one who’d put it on me to help treat my injuries. After that, the spirit of the hero inside it took control of me and won the rematch, which saved Lana. Did this mean the spirit had tricked me into it?

“From the look on your face, I’ll take that as a yes.”

But it was of my own will to go after and fight for Lana, or so I’d thought. Though, of course, if it was the curse that had driven me to go rescue her, then I wouldn’t have known I’d been played.

“So you’re saying I only want Lana because this thing planted that lust for her in me?!” I blurted out, too confused to hold my thoughts in.

“Umm, who can say?”

“Does this mean it’s all the curse’s fault that I want to squeeze Lana’s bum and her thighs and her breasts like no other?!! Do I only sniff her hair while she’s sleeping because of some stupid hex?! Is that why I sneaked a few nips at her fingers or collarbone?!!!! Wait, that means the spell is why I’m into cute, big-bosomed ladies, right?!”

“No, those are all on you. Don’t try to shift the blame for every one of your personal proclivities on the curse.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I guess I’m just a horny pervert after all. I kinda had a feeling. Also, what the hell am I blabbing about to someone I just met today?!

“Hey, my man. Try putting it on one more time.” I did as my little green pal suggested. “Repeat after me: Elves are an arrogant, narcissistic, self-absorbed bunch who are the root of all evil and a pretentious race of assholes. Okay, your turn.”

Seriously? “E-elves are an arrogant, narcissistic, self-absorbed group of bad people. They’re pretentious, beautiful, and have great bodies,” I repeated, sugarcoating it a bit at the end to make myself feel better.

My recitation left the goblin looking perplexed. He and the Dark Lord scuttled a few steps away, crouched down into a huddle, and started whispering. “Dude, the curse isn’t workin’ on him, is it?”

“Maybe its power wore off over time?”

“Nah, curses don’t just wear off.”

“Maybe it doesn’t work on Otherworlders?”

“Naaah.”

“Maybe his body has some unique resistance?”

“Yeah, I could see that.”

“I want to examine his insides.”

“Too bad.”

Shit, shit. They’re gonna turn me into Frankenstein. “Um, I think I might know why.”

“Ooh, what’s that?” the undead skeleton asked, whipping her skull around like a puppy that’d heard the word treat. C’mon, don’t turn around and say that in a cute voice. You’re killin’ me here.

“It might have something to do with my goddess.”

“Your goddess? I’ve never heard of a god or goddess blocking a curse.”

“Yes, but I consecrated my covenant with Lady Mythlanica.”

“Gaslark, have you heard of her?”

“Nope.”

“Your goddess bears the same name as the Fallen Land of Mythlanica? I know every deity on the Right Continent, and yet I do not recognize her. Perhaps her existence has simply been erased from my mind? A forgotten goddess, one who bound herself to the golden-eyed beast who slew the monster of tainted blood………,” the Dark Lord mused, hunched over exactly like The Thinker.

Though I felt guilty about interrupting her deep concentration, I needed her to clarify something that had caught my attention. “Excuse me, but what do you mean by ‘the golden-eyed beast’?”

“It is how we refer to the heroes who, though now extinct, vanquished the vampires from the Ice City of Neomia in the northern reaches of the Right Continent.”

Extinct? No, there’s at least one left—I know him personally.

“In the days of old, they were called the Final Warriors, the Endguard, the Followers of the Wicked Moon, and the Golden-Eyed Beasts. By ‘beast,’ I mean wolves, a four-legged predator found in the North. According to ancient tradition, wolves were said to devour the dead, luring them into to the afterworld, and represented death itself. I can’t say if that’s why, but their eyes are beautifully clear and pure gold like the magical metal that slays all beasts. Just like yours.”

Machina had told me that my eyes changed colors sometimes. Golden eyes, huh? Sounds kinda badass.

“You’re quite fascinating, you know.”

“Uhhh, thanks.” Not nearly as much as you, I can assure that.

The cloaked skeleton took my hands and held them in hers. Her bones were super cold. “Please do send word once you die. I’d love to conduct an autopsy on you.”

“O-of course.” Gonna be hard to talk if I’m dead.

“Well, I suppose you don’t need the key to unlock your gauntlet, do you? But I do want that recipe of yours. Hmm, what to do? Do I even have anything else a heim might like……?” she wondered aloud. “Could I interest you in an odorless, tasteless, deathly poison? Or a pot that emaciates people simply by placing it in the same room as them? Or perhaps a love potion?”

“No, thank you. Oh, but I would like to take this thing off every once in a while, so I’d be grateful for the key to the gauntlet. However, I came here to thank you for saving Machina the other day, so I’d be more than happy to just give you the recipe.”

“No! It’s not enough! I cannot agree to such an unfair trade and still call myself the Dark Lord!” The ruler of darkness turned out to be quite the stickler for propriety. Mind letting go while you think? My hands are freezing. I can’t even feel them anymore.

“Then how about this? We’re neighbors, after all, so would you mind playing with Machina every once in a while? She can get pretty lonely, her eccentricity tends to get her in trouble, and I’ve been worried about what kind of consequences there may be to the world while we are in the dungeon. I’ll have her bring the recipe over another time.”

I couldn’t have anyone slaying Machina while we were on an expedition. There was a five-gold-piece bounty out for whoever could defeat the golem that haunted the meadow outside Remlia. That golem, of course, was Machina. I’d already started the process for removing that quest from the boards, but bureaucracy always took time.

“Do you mean I should take Machina as a subject?”

“I was hoping for something a little more casual.” I foresaw nothing but disaster if we turned that AI bot into the Dark Lord’s lackey. She didn’t look like a bad skeleton (person), but she was a demonic overlord, after all. I wouldn’t be surprised if she promised Machina half the world for her help.

That reminds me, do they have paladins in this world, too? They usually come in pairs with Dark Lords.

“Casual? That sounds rather complicated.”

“Her Darkness has never had a real friend. The heims stole her technology, and some beastfolk tried to make a side dish out of her. The elves did her the dirtiest, though. One got her to blow through her life savings to fix up his forest and agreed to marry her, but then he just tossed her away like a used rag. At that point, she figured, What the hell? and tried her hand at regicide. She’s always gettin’ stones and shade thrown at her, and she’s basically a shut-in.”

“………” A fittingly dark life story for the lord of the damned. She finally released my hands. My fingers stayed frozen in place. “So you would like me to be her friend?”

“Um, yes, please.” Is this a good idea? It’ll be fine, right?

“A friend…from a foreign dimension. Hee-hee.” She giggled to herself happily. “Well, if I must. I swear on my name that I shall anoint Machina as my friend.”

“Thank you very much.”

And that’s the story of how I created a friendship between a modern-day AI bot and a Dark Lord from the Other Dimension. I just prayed this wouldn’t come back to bite me in the ass.

“I understand. As a Remlian adventurer, I also cannot turn a blind eye to this threat to the kingdom. Champion of Light Freyja Deus Gastolfo, I will help you with this task. Together, let us defeat the dreadful Dark Lord.”

That decided—

“Pardon me, Your Darkness, but tomorrow I’m bringing a Champion of Light here to vanquish you.”

—I informed the skeletal ruler.

“Huh?” everyone present spluttered, their voices rising in incredulity. Just to paint the picture, Éa was busy boiling udon, and Machina was ladling out portions of curry to the thirty-odd goblins gobbling it down with forks. We’d all gathered for a sort of stand-up dinner. At the moment, a respectful line of mini diners awaited another serving. The evil sovereign stood on the same line, patiently and politely waiting her turn. Surreal for sure, but a peaceful scene.

“Is she really a Dark Lord? And look at all these goblins! I’ve only ever read about them in books before, but there are so many………” Lana, who had come with me, was flabbergasted.

“Lala, you want some? It’s really good. If you do, just get in line.”

“Oh, okay.” Lana did as her little sister instructed and took her place at the end of the line. The goblins around her stared.

“What’s with all the talk about Champions, man? You’re harshing the vibe.” Gaslark walked over, a bowl of curry udon in his hands.

“I’ll explain the gist of what happened,” I assured him. “Let’s find a quiet place to talk.”

“Nah, we’re good right here.” If he’s good, then I’m good.

“Your Darkness, the Otherworlder says he wants to chat.”

“Can I get a refill first?”

“Just take mine.”

“Okaaay,” the caped skeleton chirped, then left her place in the middle of the line to join us. Taking the bowl Gaslark offered, she sat down gently on the grass, her legs curled under her, and stretched out a little to the side, then started to eat the noodles. Taken out of context, the sight was enough to confuse pretty much anybody.

“So what’s up?” Gaslark popped a squat next to his leader. I felt it would be rude talking down at them, so I joined them on the grass.

“Earlier today, an adventurer by the name of Freyja Deus Gastolfo, who called herself a Champion of Light, came to my campsite to ask for our help in defeating the Dark Lord. Right now, though, she’s out like a light in a food coma.”

“Ahhh, is it that time already?”

…………Are Champions a seasonal occurrence?

I heard the daintiest gulp; Gormlaith was slowly slurping her noodles. Don’t laugh. Hold it in.

“When do you think you’ll have the barrier back up and running again?”

“Way ahead of you, man. It’s already fixed.”

“Huh? Then does that mean the Champion can’t reach you here?”

“Well, all the barrier does is create an illusion. Once you see what’s really here, it won’t work on you anymore. You and your crew made it through no problem, right? Also……” Gaslark shot a glance over at his sovereign.

“It’s all right, Gaslark. You can tell them. In the name of all udon, let us unveil the truth.”

“The barrier uses blood from Her Darkness’s previous life to function, so anyone related to her can slip right past.” I knew it, they were related.

“I don’t know this Freyja per se, but I assume she must be descended from either my younger or elder sister.”

“I see.” Now I got why the Champions wanted to surreptitiously seal away any Dark Lords who could be traced back to their bloodline. Or wait, did the presence of a regicidal ghoul in the Gastolfo family cause them to beget a Champion of Light?

“She strong?” the goblin inquired.

“She’s, uhh…” I motioned for Lana, now ladled with curry and udon, to come over. She took a seat next to me. “You’re gonna stain your robe. Here.” I took off my poncho and tied it around her neck.

“Thank you, my love.” She smiled at me sweetly.

“This is my wife, Laualliuna Raua Heuress,” I introduced her.

“Just Laualliuna—I no longer have any relation to the Heuress family. Your Wicked Majesty, please forgive me for coming to you empty-handed. I had very little notice I would have the honor of meeting you.”

“They’re huge…… I’m green with envy,” the Dark Lord growled maliciously through gritted teeth. Lana signaled an SOS with her eyes, silently asking, What do I do now?

“It’s fine, Lana. We’re not exactly standing on ceremony today, so don’t worry. More importantly, can you tell us about Freyja?”

“Of course, darling.” The Dark Lord gnashed her teeth even louder. Taking what I said to heart, Lana dived into her explanation. I swear, that she had a lot of guts. “Freyja Deus Gastolfo is a Leader of the Final Flame, a title accorded to only thirteen students in the entire history of the Hoense School of Magic so far.”

“Sorry, ‘Leader of the Final Flame’?” I cut in.

“‘Should five of these masters appear in the same era, the world itself could fall to ash beneath their awesome might.’ It’s an honorary epithet tied to the superstitious lore the Great Pyromancer Robbe left us. It’s also, by the way, a title that I’ve earned as well.” Lana beamed proudly. Damn, so three more of you, and the world’s done for.

“W-well, I bear a mage’s title, too, I’ll have you know. They call me the Herald of the Setting Sun,” the skeletal overlord chimed in, strangely committed to holding her own in this competition.

“‘Herald of the Setting Sun’? Ohhh, yes, that ancient title. For destroyers of kingdoms, I believe,” Lana mused. “……Heh-heh.” Quietly, she scoffed. Whenever it came to magic, it was like my wife became a completely different person; her confidence, which was second to none, at least in this area, reared its proud head. Maybe that’s why she always acted elfishly arrogant on the subject.

“So, Lana.”

“Yes, darling……? Ahm.” This Leader of the Final Flame dug into her udon. She had been eyeing her meal anxiously for the last few minutes and finally lost all self-restraint. Determined not to fall behind, the Dark Lord chowed down on her noodles, too.

“What kind of damage could Freyja do if she went all out?”

“Well, slurp. And…… Ngh. Shlrrrp, shlrrrp……turtle’s, gulp. About half shlu-slurp meadow……”

Look, I know I told you not to stand on ceremony, but it’s still rude to talk with your mouth full.

“I…ee. We ca…et her…burn all the…slurp, slurp.” Though obviously missing vocal cords and an esophagus, the Dark Lord started copying Lana’s garbled speech, which surprisingly, she seemed to have understood. The two continued this otherwise unintelligible, choppy exchange for a good minute, all while still eating. Gaslark and I squinted disapprovingly like Tibetan sand foxes at the two for their horrid table (meadow) manners. The experience taught me that mages of a certain caliber or of higher ranking probably shared some common qualities.

Approximately five minutes later: “So basically,” the goblin began, piecing together the gist of the ladies’ fragmented discussion. Guess he’d managed to follow it, too. “Looks like this Freyja Champ could raze half the meadow if she wanted, though they don’t know if she could take Her Darkness on and win. Though, if she goes overboard, she’ll burn up all the crimson-mortalis flowers. Since they haven’t finished purifying the evil energy from the land, the cursed bits will fly off in the wind with the rest of the ashes and cause trouble elsewhere. And we could try hiding deep in the dungeon, but another Champion would barge in looking for us anyway. Not cool, dude.”

“I’m amazed, and honestly somewhat pleased, to learn a descendant of the Gastolfo line has become such a powerful mage. Still, it would be incredibly dangerous for the curse’s remains to scatter, because it will take at least a century for that tainted dust to be purified. There is no telling what havoc they might wreak on the ecosystem in that time. And if they were to touch a normal heim, then—”

“Your Darkness, we can talk research and theories later,” Gaslark interjected. “In other words, we’d be in deep trouble if the Champion made a mess around here, but Her Wicked Majesty is stuck to this place. What are we gonna do?” The goblin poked me a few times. “Also, dude, you seriously want to do the Dark Lord in like that?”

“Who, me? Never.”

“Riiight?”

Ha-ha-ha! The two of us let out a jolly chuckle together. Man, I totally vibed with this guy. It’s like we were on the same wavelength, you know? Like our energies did the talking for us. Whatever that means. I got along with Ghett, too, and he was a merman. Maybe I just bonded well with inhuman races, in more ways than one.

Combing through all the info at hand, I started to put a tentative plan together.

Well, anyway. I think we’ve got this.

“So in summary, all we need to do is protect this area around the dungeon from harm and either vanquish or seal away the Dark Lord—or, at least, make the Champion think that’s what happened. That should about do it.”

“Hmmmm, that sounds tricky, don’t you think? I doubt she’s dumb enough to fall for it, either.” The skeletal sovereign made an excellent point. I couldn’t be certain of my judgment on a woman whom I’d only met earlier that day, but—

“No, it’ll work. I am devoted to Lady Mythlanica the Malevolent, for whom deception and trickery are child’s play. I guarantee you we’ll fool the Champion of Light, secure the meadow’s safety, shield you from harm, Your Wickedness, and protect the goblins and their way of life. You need only leave it to me.”

Honestly, I was getting used to this kind of thing.

“Whoaaa.”

The destructive waves Wrath’s sword generated had cleaved the black giant and cut its pot cleanly in half. That gash continued to run through the meadow far off into the horizon, as if he’d cut the ground into two.

Right, we’re blaming all this on the Champion. There’s no way I can talk my way out of this!

“Ugh, there’s dirt in my mouth.” Shuna retched and spat while dusting the debris from his hair. Lana remained pristinely clean. Freyja, who she’d used as an umbrella to shield herself, was covered head to toe in dirt.

“Move.” Bel, the mystery person I’d been holding, brushed my arm away. The old Bel would’ve said something bittersweet and adorable. The difference was jarring.

“Looks like the battle is over.” Lazalisa, having returned, roughly dusted off her master—hard. I almost felt bad for the girl.

“And so falls the Dark Lord, Gormlaith, a truly formidable foe.”

“……Indeed,” Lana replied with a smile at my moving words, her face ghastly pale.

“Well done, comrades. I’ll thank you in due time. But first,” Freyja began, then looked Wrath straight in the eyes, “many thanks, Wrath. Until I tell you to stop, walk away in any direction but toward the red flowers.”

“Boooaaah.” The giant set off across the meadow. Every few paces, he’d turn around as if to ask, Keep going?

“A little farther!” Freyja would call out in return. After about one hundred meters, she said, “You can stop there!”

“ROOOAAAH!” Wrath waved back at Freyja. Hmm? Why do I have a terrible feeling about this?

“Laualliuna, you have a little more strength left in you, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Very well.” Wait, hold on.

But before I could stop them, the two Leaders of the Final Flame started chanting, then unleashed a magical blast.

““Dragbane!”” they shouted, their voices a little hoarse. A ball of fire flew straight at Wrath, setting him aflame.

“BOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAH!” Wrath let out one long roar as the flames engulfed his body. Yet almost immediately, he accepted his fate and stopped wailing. Gallant and valiant, the picture-perfect martyr calmly buckled to his knees like a samurai dying by his own sword.

“WRAAAAAAAAAAAAATH!” I cried. As if in reply, the flaming giant gave me a thumbs-up, then withered and died, leaving not even coals behind. “……You didn’t have to burn him like that.” It was too cruel. Hoense mages were so mean. I’d planned on keeping him as a pet back at camp.

As if nothing in the world could be more natural, the Champion of Light said, “Whaaat? I would never trouble myself to look after a golem. It’d cost a fortune to maintain, plus you never know how long it’ll live, so it’s impossible to sell it off. And those that happen to get a little too clever cause all sorts of trouble, you know? As its creator, it was my duty to see it through to its final moments.”

“……If you say so.” Talk about a terribly tragic end.

“We’ve finished over here. How is everything on your side?”

“Oooh, we can speak to each other through these? Cooool! Yep, yep, Gormlaith speaaaking! We’re all doing juuust peachy ☆,” came the Dark Lord’s singsong reply. If all you heard was her voice, you would think she was a truly adorable maiden. But I could easily imagine someone fainting on the spot if they met her in person. It might even be a bit traumatic.

“We managed to keep our secret safe and are having a celebratory feast now.”

“Out of curiosity……what’s on the menu?”

“Curry and fried pork cutlets. I’ll have Machina deliver some to you later.”

“There are still more varieties of curry?! How marvelous. How very deep your mysteries run, curry.”

“I just poured it over fried pork is all, but more on that later. Um, could I ask you something?”

“I’ll happily answer whatever I can.”

“Your Wicked Majesty, I heard you’ve been sealed away a few times in the past. Is that true?” If it were, then we risked someone noticing the breaks from precedent and seeing through our scheme.

“Ohhh, that. I only let them think they’d defeated me. Once I’d seen my adorable descendants were doing well, I simply played along.”

Uh, right. “Do you think the members of the Gastolfo line know about their blood relation with you?”

“They seemed to in the past, but I think the little ones these days have no idea. Only a few survived a war that threatened to end our line, so I imagine most of our family lore was lost then.”

“I see. In that case, I think we should be in the clear.” As long as I kept my mouth shut.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you, though, where in the world did you find that creature?”

“My wife cooked it.”

“What?”

“My wife, she cooked it.”

“Oh……I see.”

At the risk of sounding like a broken record, Lana was the one who’d concocted that Thing into existence. Now that we’d disposed of it, her cooking prohibition had lifted, but I’d make sure her next attempts happened only under the strictest levels of supervision. Even so, I had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last homemade monster. Would we be able to beat the next one?

“Your Darkness, Freyja is by no means the last Champion we’ll see. I have no doubt a second and third will arrive at some point. When that happens—”

“Oh, I’m going to make myself scarce until everyone has forgotten I exist. Though discarded by all manfolk, our dungeon stretches wider and delves further into the ground than anyone could hope to cover in pursuit. Ancient wisdom even I have yet to uncover slumbers in its depths. Perhaps if I’m lucky enough, I may come upon an even better curry recipe one day.”

That counts as wisdom?

“In any event, Souya, you have done a noble deed. Thanks to you, peace still reigns over this meadow. Don’t worry about the cleft in the ground—I’ll dispatch some of my people out to fix it soon, maybe even tonight. I will also send a reward for your efforts over with Machina. Do accept it.”

“I will, thank you very much.”

“Despite everything, you run a great risk in continuing to associate with a Dark Lord, so it’s best if we go our separate ways. I, for one, will nevermore meet with you in person. Farewell, Souya.”

“Huh? ……Farewell, Your Wickedness.”

“Well then, oh yes. Please let Lazalisa know I said hello.”

“Of course.”

“Machina, how do I turn this contraption off?”

“The blue button!”

The call, along with my friendship with the Dark Lord, came to an end. She’d made an excellent point. My reputation was terrible enough as things stood. If word got out that I’d been rubbing elbows with a Dark Lord, I’d be exiled—no, executed. I wondered if the prudence that came with age or personal experience had made it easier for Gormlaith to look at these matters so objectively, but either way, I much preferred this over some weirdly sappy good-bye. Plus, it seemed like she would still hang out with Machina.

Hang on……… If the regicidal overlord knew Lazalisa enough to greet her, then they really did stir all this trouble just to take the credit afterward, didn’t they? Ugh, give me a break.

“Souya, with whom were you speaking?” Something silky brushed through my legs. Looking down, I saw a golden-eyed, fluffy gray cat.

“A new friend who I will never again see called Gormlaith. Do you know her?”

“Never heard the name. More importantly, Éa is bent on making the curry too spicy to consume. Stop her, will you?”

“Éa! Only season your own portion!” I shouted, then hurried out of the tent, managing to catch my little sister right before she dumped a whole load of cayenne pepper into the pot.

Soon after, we sat down to have lunch. Joining us today were Bel, Shuna, the lady Champion and her maid, and the elven sisters. Same as always, I left Lady Mythlanica’s serving for her in our tent. Lanceil had been summoned to the palace on account of all the commotion we’d caused earlier that morning. She was probably recounting our hard work (as we’d decided to call the disturbance) to the king right about now.

“Your actions today were truly admirable, Soy Sauce.” If you’re gonna mess up my name, do it properly. Don’t give me something so close to the real thing.

“It’s Lord Souya, milady,” Lazalisa corrected.

“Oh, I know. I was just about to say that.”

“If you say so.”

Already seated at the table, Freyja cleared her throat. Her personal maid sat to her side, her features as placid as always. I couldn’t get over how Lazalisa knew the Dark Lord personally but decided not to open that can of worms. Nothing good would come out of it. Neither of them had begun to eat yet, as their sense of etiquette required them to first exchange preliminary pleasantries with their host.

The curry of the day, by the way, was a dig at Shuna, the famed Swine Slayer and hater of all vegetables. Moderately spicy, the stew had steamed potatoes, boiled beans, and plenty of vegetables. Lastly, it was topped with fried pork cutlets. I’d parboiled the cutlets before deep-frying them, so they were deliciously crunchy on the outside and pillow-soft on the inside. In fact, this was probably the best meal I’d made since arriving in the Other Dimension.

“By my honored name of Freyja Deus Gastolfo, I would like to once again extend to you all……… Someone listen to me!”

“Listen up, everybody!” I tried to get their attention, but everyone else at the table was engrossed in their lunch.

“You know, munch, crunch, I thought you’d lost your mind for a hot second there, Yaya, to pair this crunchiness with stew, but, gulp, once the curry seeps into the breading, it takes on a whole different flavor, and that guilty pleasure you get from intentionally tainting the purity of the pork is just, munch, munch, munch!”

“How the hell does this curry make the beans and potatoes taste so good?! It’s crazy! What kinda magic spell did you put on it?!”

“Kindly refrain from speaking while you eat,” Lana scolded her sister and Shuna as they wolfed down their food.

“Milady, let us partake as well,” the reptilian maid suggested.

“Yes, but I mustn’t yet. I haven’t fulfilled my duty as Champion, so—”

Having evidently reached her breaking point, Lazalisa scooped up a spoonful of curry and took a bite. “Mmm! Why, this— While at first bitter, it’s followed by a complex hearty and sweet combination, no, an amalgamation of the juicy pork and vegetables…… If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to focus all my attention on this and so will leave my reflections there.” Huffing a bit at the hot stew, the maid began to eat in earnest.

“I—I simply cannot fathom what you see in such an uncouth, unappetizing dish.” Eyeing her spoon with disgust, Freyja tasted the curry. “And how could you think to ruin a perfectly good cutlet by drenching it in stew is beyond me.” Then she bit into the fried pork. “………” Without another word, the Champion put her head down and dug in.

Finally, I started on my own bowl. There’s no telling how long I’ll ramble, so I’ll spare you my review.

Looking very pleased, my sister said, “Yaya, I think I have another incredible idea. What if we mixed curry and ramen? Wouldn’t they go absolutely perfect together?”

“I knew you were smart, but you must really be a genius to think of that on your own.”

“Oh, go on.” She beamed, smug self-satisfaction emanating out of every pore of her skin.

“Souya.” It looked like Shuna had come up with something, too. “Picture it: curry and pizza. Great combination, right?”

“I’ll give that a not horrible.”

“No fair! You’re just nicer to her ’cause she’s your sister!”

Ah, crap. I almost forgot.

Getting up, I grabbed another bowl of pork-cutlet curry and carried it over to a small table I’d set up away from camp. Bel was waiting for me there in her chair.

“You’re late.”

I’d arranged a separate dining table for this ray of sunshine because I had some questions that needed answering. Still holding on to her lunch, I began my interrogation.

“Look, whoever you are inside Bel. I’d like you to tell me your name.”

“I refuse.”

“That so? Well, if you insist.” I placed an oblong object on the table and tossed a few supplement tablets next to it. “This here is your run-of-the-mill to-go adventurer meal. It’s a rock-hard loaf of bread and butter mixed with random preservatives. If you keep stonewalling me, this is all you’re gonna get from here on out. Don’t worry, those tablets will give you all the nutrients you need.”

“Nooo! Sou, that’s so crue— Silence, child.” For a split second, Bel had come back to us. “What of it?” asked the person possessing her, taking control again, Bel’s face completely unreadable. I fanned the scent of the curry in her direction. Once they caught whiff of it, that blank facade quickly twisted into one that screamed, You’re dead.

“Well, why don’t you try it and see?”

(The person inside) Bel unwrapped the premade lunch and took a bite of the yellow lump. “………Blegh, I can’t! Sou, this is too much!” the real Bel cried, reappearing for the second time. Though she only held on for a second, the tears that had welled in her eyes remained even after the person possessing her reclaimed control.

Just one more push, and I had them. “You have my precious friend in your hands. I want to trust you. Please just tell me who you are. It doesn’t even have to be your real name. I’ll take a nickname.”

Suddenly, Bel had her arms around me. She smelled of butter and flour from the preserved loaf she’d bitten into. “Lillideas. But you may call me Lis.” Next thing I knew, the curry had disappeared from my hands, and Lis was once again seated at the table. Silently, she began to eat her lunch. “Hmph. Not terrible. It needs more spices. Do not forget next time.”

“Huh?” Did she just say Lillideas? As in the Lillideas of Ellusion’s Church of St. Lillideas? You’ve gotta be kidding me. “Don’t tell me you’re—”

“Quiet. I gave you a name. I will give you no more.”

“What’ll you have to drink?”

“Soybean tea.”

“Any garnish for the curry?”

“Pickled greens. I’ll accept root vegetables if necessary. These may also be spicy.”

“And for dessert?”

“The sweet white dessert this maiden had before.”

“Ice cream. You’ve got it.” I guess it’ll be okay to handle her through her stomach for now. Or won’t it? Dear Goddess, what am I to do? I feel like my brain’s gonna explode. SOS, O goddess of mine. Please help me.

“What are you doing all the way out here?” My prayers were answered. Lady Mythlanica, back in her feline form, hopped onto my shoulder. “Oh-hooo, what do we have here? I was wondering who the cat had dragged in, and look who it is,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. The weight perched on my shoulder increased from that of a cat to that of a woman. I tried to look at her but soon found myself in a headlock.

I’ve already seen you in that form, you know. No need to be so shy.

“Souya, have they given you their name?” she asked me.

“Um, yes. Apparently, her name is Lis, short for Lillideas.”

“Pfft! Out of all the names in existence, that’s the one you chose to adopt? Shameless home-wrecker.”

“How da— Y-you’re the l-last person! I’d want to hear that from! Filthy whore!”

Now, now, girls, no need to throw slut-shaming insults at each other.

“Do not delude yourself into thinking you can tempt my devotee away with that sorry plank you call a chest.”

“Urgh!”

As Lady Mythlanica leaned more of her body weight onto me, I felt a soft sensation press against my shoulder and back. My devotion had never been more sincere. I’ll worship you for the rest of my life.

“Y-you disgust me, foul Mythlanica! I’m leaving!” Lis got up in a huff—then, realizing she had left some curry on her plate, stooped down to quickly shove it all in her mouth. Cheeks bulging like a chipmunk’s, she stormed off.

As I watched her leave, I asked Lady Mythlanica, “So, um, is she really Lillideas from the Church of St. Lillideas?”

“Preposterous. It is a stolen name. Pay her no mind. She cannot do any harm yet. Make whatever use of her you will.”

“R-right.” I’m not exactly sure what to do with that information. But I’ve gotten my goddess’s seal of approval now. We’ll see what I can do with her, I guess.

“So who is she really?”

“That is a secret.” I’d only be asking for trouble if I stuck my nose in ladies’ private business. Best stay far away from the subject.

Upon returning to camp, I heard some commotion. Lady Mythlanica, in her feline form once more, went back into her tent.

“Souya!” Shuna caught sight of me and waved me over. Quickly, I returned to my seat.

“What? What’s up?”

“This girl says she’s a Champion of Light!” I’d never seen Shuna’s eyes twinkle so brightly. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“Pretty sure I did.”

“No, you didn’t!” Looks like he’d been too engrossed in the curry to hear. I guess heroic champions were big among kids here, as well.

“Champion of Light? You mean for heims, right? What do I care? Means nothing to an elf,” Éa scoffed.

“Shuna, such Champions are nothing but trouble,” warned Lana. Both elven sisters’ voices were laced with icy hostility.

“The princesses speak the truth, Master Shuna. Champions of Light do nothing but gobble their money away until they are reduced to living in horse stables. In comparison, Master Souya keeps a proper abode, prepares wonderful meals, and takes great care of his party. He’s worlds more heroic.” Lazalisa, you’re supposed to defend her, you know.

“Gh, grrr!” The real Champion growled, her face contorted into a dark expression that a hero should never be caught wearing. Maybe she recognized she didn’t have a leg to stand on, though, because she just kept on plowing through her curry. Actually, make that my curry.

With everyone helping themselves to extra servings, we quickly finished the rest of the curry, then relaxed with a cup of tea.

“Haaah,” Freyja sighed. “What truly horrendous tea. I’ve never seen such paltry leaves.”

“On this point alone, we are in complete agreement, milady.”

Lana shot murderous glares at Freyja and Lazalisa as they criticized my tea. To be honest, I’d been dealing with a tea problem for a while and was looking around for ways to resolve it. Seeing the perfect opportunity, I figured I might as well ask if they had any ideas.

“You know, I do some consulting for a merchant group in town and have been searching for a connoisseur who could lend them a discerning eye. Would you two by any chance have some expertise in the area?”

“Absolutely!” Lazalisa practically threw herself over the table toward me. “I happen to be rather well versed in the varieties of tea from the Left, Central, and, in fact, all the Great Land. Would you possibly consider introducing me to your merchant contacts, Lord Souya? How much can you pay?!” She was all in. Made sense, though. There wasn’t any money in slaying a Dark Lord whose only crime was keeping to herself.

“Lazalisa, stop this nonsense. A Champion of Light cannot very well have her attendee bartering her services as a tea sommelier. I will not allow it.”

“Milady, I hereby resign, effective immediately. From now on, I shall become Lord Souya’s consort. It has been the furthest thing from a pleasure serving you. Farewell.”

“““What the—?!””” Lana, Éa, and Freyja all cried out in unison.

Thank goodness Lanceil isn’t here. There would have been a bloodbath.

“Lazalisa, I have all the consorts I need.”

“Yeah, you got that silver-haired foxy lady with the huge boobs, don’t ya?” Shuna chimed in, ever so casually stabbing me in the back.

“I guarantee your efforts will be rewarded handsomely. That is, however, only under the stipulation you will solely work for the one trade group I designate and no one else.”

A merchant group from the Central Continent had rounded up and stolen all the tea experts in the area. If I could ensure Lazalisa would work exclusively for us, I could afford to give her a rather warm welcome. Plus, she came with a Champion of Light and was an incredibly strong adventurer in her own right. She could defeat any hired mobsters the Central Continent’s merchants threw at her.

“Of course, that sounds reasonable to me,” Lazalisa readily agreed.

“Great, then the sooner you can get started, the better. We can go introduce you later today. I’ll also cover your room, board, clothing, and everything else for the time being. You won’t have to worry about a thing.”

“I’m simply beside myself.” Lazalisa looked as expressionless as ever, but I could tell she was happy. Freyja, on the other hand, clung to her maid’s sleeve, tears welling in her eyes. Feeling kind of sorry for the sad puppy, I threw her a bone.

“It’ll be great to market the tea as Handpicked by a Champion of Light, so, Lady Freyja, I’d love to have you on board, too.”

“Unfortunately, milady has made it very clear it would not do for her to expend her precious time judging a tea’s quality and its leaves,” the maid pointed out, clearly troubled. It was worth a shot to throw the idea out there, but Lazalisa was right; it didn’t fall under Freyja’s job description.

“I shall call it the Champion’s Tea,” the crusader declared. “But be forewarned, my seal of approval does not come cheaply!!” I’ll take that as an I’m in. Those benefits started to sound pretty good, didn’t they?

Suddenly, my new mage business partner took my hands in hers. Lana’s eyes staring at me terrified me to my core.

“Now that that’s settled, let’s return to this long overdue business of your reward. By my honorable name of Freyja Deus Gastolfo, I would like to once again extend my deepest gratitude for the assistance you and your party members have provided in this endeavor. Your pure, unadulterated hearts, which inspire you to vanquish all who seek to disturb our blessed peace, are more precious than any shining jewel. So long as light lives in hearts such as yours, this world shall persevere through all hardship and threat of destruction.”

Her earnest gratitude drove a knife through my chest.

“Furthermore, whosoever risks his life to protect a Champion of Light has proven himself a true Champion as well.” Hmm? “By the revered Gastolfo name of my ancestors, I hereby christen thee the newest Champion of Light unto the world.” Whaaa—? “O, Souya of the Otherworld, I bid thee accept this honor.”

“Wait just a second, I—” Her grip was too strong. I couldn’t break free. Freyja’s hands began to glow warmly. This could not be good. It was so sudden; I didn’t have time to react.

“I now bestow upon thee this hallowed mark officially dubbing thee the one thousand four hundred thirty-second Champion of Light. May you protect and conduct thyself in accordance with the accolade of this title and bring glory to it through thy words and deeds. Now, newborn guardian, go forth and prove thyself!”

A searing pain burned my left hand. Freyja released her grip, revealing a warped pattern with the letter V scrawled across my palm. “What the hell is this?!”

“The Mark of a Champion. Should the world ever fall into peril, or innocent civilians ever cry out in prayer for salvation, or the Dark Lord ever rear its ugly head once more, this brand shall surely lead you to your destiny.”

“Souya! That’s sooo badass!” Shuna’s eyes shone exponentially brighter.

Sorry, but I’m not interested. Seriously, I’m good! “I don’t want it! Take it off!”

“No can do. You cannot erase the mark. You shall remain a Champion of Light until your dying day.”

“You’re the devil!” What is this, a goddamn curse?!

“Even if you lose your left arm somehow, this symbol will reappear somewhere else on your body, so just give in and do your best. You cannot escape this fate. You have all the makings of a true Champion! I believe in you!”

This is a goddamn curse!!

And so my adventure, my beautifully planned-out adventure, went off the rails once again.

The tale that follows is a simple one. Once, a woman and a man exchanged a promise, which the man faithfully kept long after she was gone. That’s all there was to it.

As if possessed by some evil curse, trapped in a nightmare and unable to awaken, the man fought endless battles with his sword. He’d had dreams once. Friends, too, and a proud dignity worth betting every last coin on. Fortune and glory had undoubtedly been his to claim. Yet the man threw it all away. As if in a feverish delirium, he obsessed over that one task, a fanatic worshipping at his twisted altar, a child locked in the only world he’d ever known.

I have no business speculating about the values that drove him. For all I know, it could have been the simplest of reasons. This was a story about a promise, one the world deemed foolish. It all began with a pact between a man and a woman, a vow steeped in hopeful longing for a future that would now never come to pass.

That’s all there was to it, all it would ever be. And that’s exactly why I—

The Rabidly Revelrous Rabbit

Agaccion and Lis, wielding her sword, charged at the rabbit, but all too quickly, the enchanted blade was crushed to pieces, and Lis’s head joined the rest on the floor. Yukikaze said something. I caught none of it. Something far more pressing had to come first.

Sacrificing my body, I drew my woodsman’s hatchet and stood between the murderous hare and my wife. There was no try—just do or do not. Fully aware it was futile, I hacked at the beast in my last Hail Mary. But it was all in vain. The ax didn’t even scratch the thing.

Behind me, I heard something plop to the floor. Then Lana’s head rolled through my legs. Her sad, lifeless eyes met mine.

“Ah.” The flood of emotions within me burst forth. I knew it was too late. But I swear you’re going down, you bastard.

Glaring straight at those red eyes, I began to chant my spell to destroy all—but then something clamped over my mouth and slammed me down to the ground. A pungent smell hit my nose; the room spun. I glimpsed silvery hair and a pair of horns; Evetta had me pinned to the floor with a cloth over my mouth. Shuna, Éa, Lazalisa, and Gaslark were all in similar positions, but it took three people to subdue Freyja’s frantic delirium. Only Lis and Lana remained standing, unaffected.

I looked each person in the face and saw their heads—all very much still attached to their necks. That’s when I realized the ones constraining us were Guild employees. Why are they here? What the heck is going on?

“This is the last group for today. Let’s move,” a young, winged boy ordered the staff, with the rabbit of nightmares pinned under his arm.

Meekly, we followed the Guild employees, who supported us and carried those who couldn’t walk into a dank, mossy stone room where several chairs had been prepared. We could hear shrieks and furious screams from men and women in the next room, most likely a party that had gone in ahead of us.

“Anyone sustain mental or physical injuries?” The young boy, also known as the Guildmaster of the Adventurers Guild, looked around at each of us. I felt nauseated. It must’ve shown, because Evetta rubbed my back soothingly. Freyja was vomiting her guts out into the leather pouch her counselor had given her.

“Ugh,” I heaved but somehow managed to hold it down.

“First, I want you all to take a good, hard look at the ghastly state of your leaders,” the Guildmaster instructed, and everyone turned their attention to the extremely unflattering situation Freyja and I found ourselves in. Shuna and Éa seemed equally as distraught; Lazalisa’s face was emotionless, but her body trembled slightly. Gaslark’s helmet hid his face. Only Lana and Lis appeared completely unperturbed.

“The sight of your deaths has reduced them to this. As for you, leaders, the faces gazing at you now are how your party members will look if you two should die.” Huh? What does that mean? “Cute, isn’t she? This rabbit. She’s one of a kind, a rare, wingless species, and is at least five hundred years old. She raised hell for us back in the old days, causing countless casualties from friendly fire, though now we keep her at the Guild and put her to work.”

“Guildmaster, are you saying she’s the gatekeeper for the fourteenth floor?” Did we fail the test? Would we have to start all over from the tenth level again?

“Yes, but then again, technically no. The real test here were the bonds between you guys,” he replied. “Souya, what did you see?”

Memories of that devastation flashed through my mind, images destined to continue haunting my dreams. “I saw everyone here except for me die.”

“And you, Freyja?”

“I saw the same thi— Bleeeeeeegh.” Freyja hurled once more.

“Though this species possesses no traditional battle prowess to speak of, it compensates for this deficiency with the ability to create Fatal Illusions. These hallucinations show the target visions of the people they hold dear, those they strive to protect, perishing before their very eyes. The reason we require everyone to attempt this trial in parties of two or more is to distinguish how you perceive the deaths in each group, though apparently this did not affect either of you two. You’ve proven your mettle as adventurers. However, as leaders, you have failed spectacularly,” the winged boy declared, though he wasn’t telling me anything new. I’d known from the beginning that I had no business leading anybody.

“My next message, I address to the rest of you: Your leaders do not value their own lives. This kind of person is always the first to die. I applaud their noble sense of responsibility, but do not forget: If a leader dies, they condemn the rest of their party to that same fate. Complete annihilation will shortly follow. And you two unshaken souls, you understand, don’t you?” He turned to Lis and Lana. “……Exactly.” A dark smile crept over the Guildmaster’s face. Lis, I could understand; she was not the real Bel. But then why Lana……?

“I’ve built up a resistance to that type of technique,” Lana explained when she caught my gaze.

Wagging his finger, the Guildmaster again commanded our attention. “I will say this only once more: The sentinel guarding this floor is the thread that ties you all together. Furthermore, the senseless death you witnessed today is but a taste of the loss you will surely encounter should you continue your adventures.”

My mind recalled unforgettable memories of Arvin’s death, unearthing the feelings of loss and absolute fury from that time.

“This is what it means to walk the path of an adventurer. Reflect carefully on what I have told you and discuss it thoroughly among yourselves. Now, look upon the faces of your comrades once again and give serious consideration as to whether you can safely trust them with your lives. That question is the trial you must pass to proceed to the next floor.”

With that, the head of the Adventurers Guild nodded, dismissing us. Our counselors accompanied us out of the room and down the stairs, leaving the fourteenth floor. We registered ourselves at the portal located immediately upon arrival on level fifteen and successfully returned to the first floor.

Bonds, huh?

In the wrong circumstances, that could be the most difficult thing to overcome. Some parties probably called it quits then and there. Entrusting your life to someone else was nowhere near as simple as it sounded, as some great songs liked to make it seem. This was where parties built on shared interests or formed on falsehoods met the end of the road. If you wanted to keep moving forward, every member of a party would have to drop all pretense and come clean.

………Guess it’s time.

My wounds stung slightly as green, herbal bathwater seeped into them. Soaking in a tub of lukewarm water in the second floor–dungeon public baths, I tried to organize my thoughts. I mulled over my next steps, our future explorations, but the same phrase played over and over again in my mind: Life is not all about adventuring.

I had other ways of supporting myself that did not require exploring the dungeon. If this country didn’t permit that, I could always take my wife and my sister and go somewhere else. I couldn’t say for sure whether we’d be able to survive, but for them, I would make the impossible happen. That at least, I was absolutely certain. Through my merfolk and merchant connections, I could arrange passage for us on a ship to another continent where we’d live happily ever after in peace and quiet. It was definitely an option.

However, assuming we did decide to keep delving further into the dungeon in Remlia, I had to confirm something no matter what, a question I’d never been able to ask out of consideration for her feelings. After this heinous experience, though, I’d finally made up my mind. I had to know. If she refused, worst-case scenario, I’d…

“Worst case, I’d what? Ugh, I’m such a dumbass.” I’d cross that bridge after I heard what she had to say.

“Yaya, do you mind?”

“Hmm?”

I heard my sister’s voice, the swish as the curtain slid open, and the pattering of feet—her naked body slipped into the tub.

“Heh-heh.”

“Wait, hang o—” While spacious for private use, the tub felt crowded with two people. Éa’s hands grazed my more sensitive regions. She’d sat on my lap many times, but I’d never felt this level of skin-to-skin contact with her. She looked adorable with her hair tied up and out of her face for once. Wait, that’s not what I mean. Well, it is, but this isn’t the time for that.

“Éa, what the hell are you—?” Ah, shit. The words caught in my throat midsentence. She was trembling. “Did the test get to you?”

“Yeah, a little.”

I’d failed again because I was thinking about no one else but myself this time. Unsure what to do with herself, Éa fidgeted awkwardly.

“May I?” I asked, then gingerly placed my hand on her head and guided her to rest over my heart. “They say listening to a heartbeat calms you down.” I’d done this before, reassured someone this way in the past, but I couldn’t remember who for the life of me.

“Yaya, your heart beats so fast.” Yeah, well, I am tangled up with my naked elven sister, you know. If anything, my poor heart’s going into overdrive trying to keep blood from flowing down there.

“You think? Personally, I—”

“Hush. I can’t hear.”

I shut up. We stretched out, practically lying down, our legs intertwined. After a moment’s hesitation, I wrapped my arms around her quaking shoulders and rested my chin on her head. She felt warmer than the hot water.

My mental state at that moment could be summed up in a single word: enlightened. No dirty thoughts could be found anywhere in my infinitely pure heart. In other words, this was in no way, shape, or form illegal. Sure, I was locked in a naked embrace with my sister, but internally, I was right up there with Buddha. Nothing inappropriate to see here. Plus, this was my wife’s sister, okay?! Nothing wrong with that. If anything, the fact that she was my sister-in-law made it totally fine.

………It’s fine!

Yeah, who am I kidding? Buddha himself would probably drop-kick me to hell. Forget the other gods—they’d probably get their canes out.

So on went my horny—I mean, anguished—thoughts as I counted the lines on the ceiling. As a famous philosopher once said, “A single moment with your hand upon a stove can feel like an entire hour, but an hour lying naked with a beautiful elf flies by in a minute.” The next thing I knew, our bath had turned cold. Pulling on a string hanging next to the tub, I had fresh, hot water pour in through the pipe near my feet. Excess bathwater flowed over the lip of the tub and drained through grates along the floor into the sewers.

“Hey, Yaya, look.” Shifting her position, Éa steadied herself on my shoulder with one hand on the edge of the tub to show me her abdomen. Strands of hair from her loose ponytail cascaded over her chest. Immediately, I turned away, then squinted sideways at her. “My scar’s almost completely faded.”

“Ohhh, is that where it was? That’s great, real great.” She meant the scar from her bullet wound. Her post-op care had worked wonders, and now only a faint line remained.

“Hee-hee,” she giggled, then hugged me, slinking both arms around my neck and setting her chin on my shoulder, once again closing the space between us. I felt two firm tips press against my chest. There was no way I could stay calm like this. Afraid my body would speak for me if I didn’t start talking, I said, “Hey, Éa, were you scared when you first explored the dungeon?”

“Hmm, not really. I used to hunt for a living before I moved to the Heuress Forest, mostly wild boar. They live east of here in the Beastfolk Woods, and they’re superstrong, always hungry, ferocious, and huuuge. I’m pretty sure they’re like an ancestor to dungeon boars. People died on hunts all the time, but…” She trailed off. “…Today was the first time I ever saw someone put their life on the line to save me and then die—even if it was just an illusion.” Slight tremors shook her body once more.

Then she continued speaking. “I feel like I’ve done nothing but rely on other people to save me since I became an adventurer. It’s kind of humiliating. We all used to go out together on the hunt, but I’d never had anyone protect me like that.”

“Really? Yeah, sometimes it works out that way. But you know, you’ve saved me before—and everyone else in the party, too, for that matter. Who knows how many monsters would’ve caught us off guard and killed us if you hadn’t sensed they were coming?”

“That’s true. Yeah, you’re right. I guess when you’re an adventurer, you share those jobs and keep going until too many people die and the party can’t work anymore.”

“……Yeah.” That was our work in a nutshell. You risked your life, fought, then fell into eternal darkness. It wasn’t a career anybody sane would pursue. You had to convince yourself that your dreams and sense of adventure depended on it. For someone who had no dreams, it was pure hell.

“You know, I watched that rabbit kill everyone one by one, but when I saw you die, I just collapsed. Nothing, nothing mattered anymore,” she whispered grimly. “……I don’t know what kind of adventures we’ll have from here on out, but you can’t ever die, Yaya. If you do………you know what’ll happen, right?” She stared deep into my soul with her piercing crystal-blue eyes. Our foreheads touched. I could feel her breath on mine and the warmth of her lips without touching them.

“As you wish.”

“Nope, not good enough.”

“I’m not gonna die. I mean, I might eventually from old age or if I get sick or something, but I’ll do my best to live as long as a heim can.”

“Well, I suppose that will have to do.” She kissed my cheek. “By the way, Yaya.” Puzzled, my elven sister took me into her hands. “What’s this?”

Once bathed and refreshed, our party gathered at the government-run pub. Lana, Shuna, and Lis had already begun eating by the time Éa and I arrived. Though only a little past midday, patrons, including parties we’d seen in the dungeon, filled the bar’s tables. Various side dishes and several empty bottles of ale littered the round table where my friends sat.

“Shuna, what’s with these?” I asked after taking my seat, gesturing toward the drained bottles. He shifted his gaze to Lana, who at that very moment had her lips pressed directly against yet another one, gulping down its contents like water at three times her normal pace. Even for someone often called the spirit of liquor incarnate, that speed of drinking was unsustainable.

Éa helped herself to whatever was at the table. I followed suit, biting into the thick slices of bacon that’d grown on me and some sour beans. Nothing tasted bad on an empty stomach.

In a jarring break from the norm, nobody said a word as they ate or drank, which they were doing quicker than usual. I saw the same thing happening at other tables, or rather, tables full of parties that had just gone through that same harrowing experience. Behind me, I could hear a woman sobbing and a man soothing her. Someone broke down, bawling hysterically.

And just like that, my appetite disappeared. Another round of ill-timed dishes arrived at the table. Pale with nausea, I internally repeated my “waste not, want not” mantra and forced myself to eat every last bite of the not-that-fluffy fluffy bread and extra-large omelet I’d ordered. The taste didn’t even register. I drained my tea.

“So.” Lana and Lis sat there stone-faced, and my sister seemed her usual self, but Shuna looked a little ashen, his pain a living proof of my ineptitude as a leader. Times like these, I wished with all my heart we could turn to older members like Zenobia or Arvin. I missed them both like crazy. “Lis, is Bel listening?”

“……” I glared at her unresponsiveness. “Yes.”

“As your leader, I need to ask you all something.” They focused their gazes on me. “If we continue our expeditions, do you have the resolve to protect every one of your fellow party members? Would you throw down your own life to do it? Could you abandon someone to certain death to protect the others? Could you sacrifice one of us to save as many of your party members as possible?”

The group fell silent. Shuna spoke up first, as expected. “You’re damn right I am. I swear it on my master’s blade.”

Next, Éa. “Of course.”

Following up, Bel promised in her own words: “You can count on me, Sou. I’ll make sure Lis does, too.”

“I also—,” Lana began, but I cut her off.

“Lana, I need to ask you something else.”

“Huh?” Lana looked puzzled; the question must’ve thrown her off.

“I imagine it must be difficult for you to talk about this, but our experience today made me realize it’s time to bite the bullet. No matter what happens, I promise I will do everything in my power to protect you and guarantee the rest of the party feels exactly the same. So…”

That perverted prince’s words ran through my mind: “You’re a wretch who burned her own people to death. How much lower could you sink?”

“I’d like you to tell us about the night you burned down your home forest, killing your people along with it.”

The color in Lana’s eyes flickered. For a second, it was as if I was looking at a completely different person. I explained the situation to Bel and Shuna, who were both clearly bewildered and disturbed.

“A year ago, a war broke out between Remlian heims and the elves of the Heuress Forest. It’s the reason why Lana and Éa became adventurers in the first place. Neither side was completely in the wrong or in the right.”

If you summarized what both parties had to say, the impetus for the war came down to differences in how they measured land. However, that simple explanation quickly became an entangled mess with claims of misrepresentations in the original documents of how the elves planned to grab the money and run, of how the heims plotted to seize the land by force, and other takes on the case.

Everyone wants to think they are right and that their actions are justified and live with that belief. Because it’s far too miserable to live with the acknowledgment that folly or madness drove your decisions.

The Kingdom of Remlia had converted the previously forested areas Lana had razed to the ground for agricultural use. Well, technically speaking, serfs from Remlia’s allied nation Ellusion did all the farming. Not all the foodstuffs produced here stayed in the kingdom; much of it was shipped to the Central Continent’s papal state.

This part stood out to me. Personally, I wanted to believe my wife had been used as a political pawn. If that’s what she said happened, I’d take that conviction to my grave, no matter what anyone else claimed.

“During that war, Lana burned part of the Heuress Forest down, along with her own people who remained trapped inside. That’s why other elves carry a grudge against her. I chose at my own discretion to hide this from you. I’m sorry.”

I should’ve informed them at the very beginning when we decided to form a party. But what was I supposed to say? Hey, guys, I’d like you to meet my wife, an elf who murdered her people and burned her home to the ground? Even as a joke, it wouldn’t be funny.

Plus, all I knew was hearsay. Every story had filtered through the prejudices and motives of the person telling it before it reached me. I could possibly get some answers if I interrogated those directly involved in the war, but I’d have to be ready to flee the kingdom before I tried.

“Lana, I know this must be hard. But if we keep going without addressing this now, I guarantee you it’ll drive a wedge between us and deal our party a fatal blow. When the going gets tough, people will unconsciously hesitate to reach out a hand or race to save you.”

Lana stood up and tried to leave, but I grabbed her hand.

“I want to hear what happened from you. Tell me what you believe to be true, your reasons, anything you have to say in your defense. I don’t care how it comes out. Nobody here would ever turn their backs on you.”

“Unhand me. A mere adventurer has no business delving into this. Stay in your place, or your curiosity will put you in grave danger.”

“I promise I will fully believe and accept anything you say, no matter how absurd it may sound. I’ll make sure everyone else does, too.”

“………!” The agony on her face broke my heart.

“Whatever you tell us now is far more trustworthy than any account I can research or share.”

This was full-on blackmail, extortion aimed at her and at myself for turning a blind eye for so long. Time would never heal this gaping wound. We needed to take drastic measures if we ever wanted to continue our adventures, keep exploring the dungeon—remain a family.

Lana clearly wavered—then slapped my hand away and hurried out of the bar.

“Lala!” Éa ran after her sister.

“………Sorry,” I apologized to the two remaining members, Shuna and Bel. Both clearly had no idea what to do.

I’d screwed up big-time. Lifting the same hand Lana had rejected, I slapped myself hard across the cheek.

The Imprisoned Adventurer

When I awoke the next morning, Lana was gone. The mini kettle, Yukikaze, was gone. Lady Mythlanica had disappeared as well. When I asked Machina about it, she said my wife had left in the early hours to run an errand and that she’d taken Yukikaze, just in case, at Machina’s urging. For some reason, Lady Mythlanica had also tagged along.

Massive, salted rice balls had been prepared for breakfast, courtesy of Lana. Ghett had brought over some small shrimp and fish left over from his market sales, which I made into an ajillo and paired with pork-broth soup, some pickled vegetables, and bacon sautéed with curry powder. Our spread all set, I sat down to eat once again with what society here took to be a very unusual group: a merman, an elf, a beastmaid, and an Otherworlder.

After we finished, I asked Ghett how things looked at the harbor; he said another ship from the Central Continent had sailed in earlier that morning. While Éa and Lanceil chattered on about everything and nothing, Ghett dived back into the ocean, and I went to check on our garden. Sprouts had appeared all around, and vines had begun creeping up their posts. One by one, our tiny tree golem carefully inspected each dew-drenched leaf and stem in turn. Together, we watered our crops, then walked a bit away from camp and scattered some food for the flying rabbits. They hadn’t started nibbling our greens yet, but they might once our crops started to bear fruit, which would be bad.

Wait, this herd grew again. Last time, there had only been seven, but now there were ten of them. Ah, whatever. They’re cute.

Morning chores done, I ducked into my tent and got changed. Same as always, I wore my camo fatigues, threw my trusty poncho on over them, and slid Agaccion into its sheath, which I then tied around my waist. Since I only planned for a light outing, I decided to leave behind my lycan bow and quiver. Lastly, I put on the glasses I’d finally gotten used to and was ready to leave.

“I’m heading into town to get ready for our next expedition,” I told Éa and Lanceil. “Do you two want to come with?”

“Thank you, but I’m going to do some laundry and inspect our equipment for damage, then have Machina give me another cooking lesson,” Lanceil declined.

“Oh, then I’ll join you. I wanna learn a new curry recipe,” Éa announced.

“Will you be joining us for lunch, sire?”

“Yeah, I should be back by then.”

“In that case, Éa and I shall put our skills to the test and have a feast waiting for you. Have a safe trip.”

“See you later, Mr. Souyaaa!”

“Byeee!”

The three waved me off as I left. I gotta say, it felt nice.

When I arrived in town, I headed first to the Zavah Night Owl Trade Group’s headquarters to see if they knew where I could find the two entrepreneurial ladies, then made my way over to the stables, which served as a cheap inn reserved for adventurers. Any registered adventurer could use the stables for free. Since most didn’t own horses, though, they served as bare-bones public housing provided by the Hotels and Inns Association and were supported by the government. Inn owners donated space out of the goodness of their hearts, welcoming new adventurers with the unspoken understanding that these initiates would come back and stay at their hotel once they could afford it. For its part, the government was able to keep broke adventurers from sleeping on the streets and threatening the tourist appeal or safety of the city.

In case you’re curious, the price for a horse varied as much as it did in the modern world. Colts and older horses went for around fifty gold coins, while young, healthy steeds garnered around ninety, and the ones that were incredibly fast cost around two hundred gold. Purebred stallions whose lineages traced back to famous legends or heroes easily ran in the one to two thousand range.

I scanned the initiate adventurers in the barn until I found the pair I was after in the last of a long row of stalls. Piles and piles of belongings filled the space. The first thought that came to mind: Someone did a midnight disappearing act with some get-rich-quick scheme’s payout.

“Oh, why if it isn’t Lord Souya,” Lazalisa said in greeting once she spotted me; I gave her a “good morning” back. Though the reptilian beastmaid was ready for the day in her maid’s uniform, her employer lay splayed out, asleep on the hay in an expensive-looking set of pajamas, her expression an unflattering shade of stupid.

“Milady, time to wake. Master Souya has come to visit.”

“Whaaa—? Huuuh?” the Lady Champion mumbled. Her hair extremely disheveled, Freyja looked far more vulnerable and exposed than any young woman should allow others to see.

“Lord Souya, a moment, if you will.”

“Sure.”

The tall beastmaid vigorously yanked Freyja’s pajamas off and began making her presentable. I turned around and let my gaze wander from one adventurer to the next. Most looked like complete initiates, their gear old and crumbling, and their young eyes sparkling with dreams and confidence. I hadn’t started much later than them, so why did I feel like such an outsider? You’d never guess I did the exact same job.

It would’ve been nice to have the same aspirations and hopeful outlook toward adventuring, but then again, I guess the God of Adventurers wouldn’t have sent me packing if I did.

“Thank you for your patience, Lord Souya,” Lazalisa announced.

When I turned around, I saw the prim and proper lady in her usual scarlet dress and curly blond ringlets standing before me. Damn, Lazalisa, you’re a miracle worker. You sure you don’t want to try making a living out of this?

“Why, hello there, Soysouya. What can I do for you on this fine morning?” Ah, so close! Good enough for today.

Before I approached the main topic, I wanted to clarify one thing. “Maybe I should start by asking what brought you here? I know you had a few ups and downs, but you should’ve had enough money left to cover room and board for a while.”

“Oh, that. We spent it all.” Oof. This Champion couldn’t even control her own finances.

“Allow me to offer an explanation, Lord Souya. After acquiring that considerable sum of money all at once, we unfortunately let ourselves get carried away. I myself purchased several rare collectible weapons, while milady bought an entire wardrobe of new clothing. The next thing we knew, our funds had been exhausted.”

So that’s where all the stuff in the stall came from. This didn’t sound reassuring, considering I might one day have to entrust them with Shuna and Bel. I bet their last party leader had an extremely hard time dealing with them. I feel your pain.

“Let’s save the talk about your spending habits for another time. I came to speak with you today about an expedition.”

“Well, goodness gracious. Have you perhaps, unable to forget our extraordinary contributions the last time we linked arms, come to ask for our assistance? Heh-heh-heh, let me warn you now, we do not come cheaply.” Yeah, I’ll bet. Somebody’s gotta pay for your retail therapy.

“Milady, might I remind you, your contributions last time did not exceed regurgitating your bowels and languishing in nausea,” Lazalisa kindly pointed out.

“Ugh!” the mage groaned in embarrassment. “Just you wait, there shall be no such mortifying displays next time, and soon all will see the true powers that I—”

“Trust me, I know what you can really do,” I reassured her. She’d proven her mettle in the battle against Lana’s failed side dish, brandishing sorcery no ordinary mage could muster. One vestige of those powerful spells was still hard at work in my kitchen garden. “Tomorrow my party and I are heading into the dungeon to try to push through five levels in one go, and I would be grateful if you two could join us. I can offer you twenty gold pieces in remuneration, ten up front. Everything else we need for this expedition, I’ll prepare on my end.”

“Yes, gladly. We’ll be happy to accompany you,” she agreed without a moment’s hesitation.

“Milady, are you quite sure you do not wish to take advantage of this prime opportunity for extortion?”

“Quite sure, Lazalisa. I’ll do whatever I must for breakfast money!”

Look, I get that most adventurers live hand to mouth, but you two need to figure out how to budget, fast. It’s a shame—you’re so capable otherwise.

“That’s right, where is Gaslark?” The goblin in dwarf’s clothing was nowhere to be found.

“He apparently has a residence nearby and returned there yesterday,” Freyja explained. “………Perhaps we could arrange to live there with him.”

“No, milady. I’m afraid that would be too brazen, even for you.”

A Champion of Light living in a Dark Lord’s hideout? Sounds like a sitcom waiting to happen.

“Thanks, I’ll reach out to him myself. Here, your advance.” I handed Lazalisa ten coins from my pouch. “I’ll pay you the remaining ten once we finish the mission. For tonight, please find a hotel room and rest up. Treat yourself to something delicious to energize you for tomorrow. Just don’t go binging on alcohol and snacks.”

“Well then, don’t mind if I do.”

“Rest assured, Lady Freyja is not only the picture of health, but she can also sleep under any condition imaginable.”

“Okay, so tomorrow we’ll meet at the Guild at the toll of the morning bell.”

“Wonderful, we’ll see you there.”

First deal of the day in the bag. Now, on to the next.

After leaving the inn, I took the main road to an alley that led me behind the constable’s post to a certain establishment. Standing in front of the entrance, I wrapped around my wrist the chain that would grant me access to the Goddesses of Slumber and Fertility Parlor, an elegant, tasteful brothel. I gathered up my courage, then pushed the steel doors open. A quiet, relaxed atmosphere unlike what I’d experienced last time met me inside; even the aroma of burning incense seemed fainter. This shop did most of its business after dark, so only a few clients awaited their turns. Young, seemingly inexperienced female and male employees milled about.

“Welcome. Ohhh, good morning, sir.”

“Oh, hello,” I greeted the middle-aged beastman who’d been hurled through the walls and into my room last time.

“You must be here for Tutu. And what impeccable timing you have. She has been desperate and wanting customers lately. It’s good you stopped by.” No, not good. Not good at all.

“Actually, today I just—”

“Souya!” Something crashed into me and bound me to the spot. “When are you gonna stop stringing meow along?! Just how long do you think I’ve been waiting since you prrromised you’d come?!” the feline beastmaid complained after throwing herself at me. Petite and lithe, she had wavy long blond hair, pointed ears, and a voluminous tail I’d recognize anywhere. Like all the employees, she wore a collar around her neck and revealing lingerie. I’d thought I could avoid running into her if I came by in the morning, but here we were.

“Sorry, Tutu, I’m not here today for—”

“Stop making excuses already! I don’t know how much more rejection my dignity can take!”

“Now then, sir, if you’ll follow me upstairs,” the beastman said, and I almost gave in. Shit, if I let them drag me along, I seriously doubt my self-control will hold out. How can I think of laying my hands on another woman if I haven’t even gotten to that stage with my wife yet?!

“Not so fast.” Tutu’s voice took on a cold tone. She started sniffing intensely around my neck. “Souya, I smell the scent of another beastmaid on you. Who is she?”

“Argh!” Tutu’s nails dug into the nape of my neck. I see. So other beastmaids are off-limits, huh? Good to know. Hopefully, that’ll come in handy next time. If I live to see a next time, that is.

“Oh, just someone who recently moved in and has been helping me around camp.”

“I said, WHO. IS. SHE. MRAH?!” she demanded. Her claws clenched my bum in their viselike grip. Ow! Quit it with the nails. All right, fine. Not like I’m trying to hide anything.

“A beastmaid named Lanceil.”

“What? Lanceil? As in the Lanceil? King Remlia’s illegitimate daughter, the silver-haired foxmaid?”

“Yeah, exactly.” I guess she’s famous? Makes sense—legitimate or not, she is the king’s daughter, after all.

“My, my.” The manager nodded for some reason.

Tutu stumbled backward and collapsed into a despondent heap, catching herself with both hands against the floor. “I’ll never compare to the woman flying on every flag,” she wailed, but then a second later, she jumped back to her feet and threw her arms around my waist, flinging herself at me. Much like the majority of beastmaids, Tutu had a lot of love to go around or, rather, took a very proactive approach in sharing it. It wasn’t even midday, and she was already getting frisky.

“Please! I’ll do whatever you want; just don’t throw me awaaaay!”

“I’m not! Don’t give people the wrong idea!”

“Oh, I know, I’ll make it a party! I know the purrfect girls who are free right meow!”

“What’s with all the noise?” asked a middle-aged man who appeared from a back room. Raven-haired, black-eyed, and with rough stubble, the man looked sleepy, his left eye perpetually closed shut. He wore a loose kimono-like robe and, in one hand, carried his sheathed longsword.

“Sorry, Pops. I wanted to see you about something,” I said to the man also known as the father of adventurers.

“Right. Come on back.”

“Souya! What about meow?!”

“I’m real sorry, Tutu,” I apologized. “I really am. I’ll make it up to you soon, I promise.”

“I’ll take that promise to the next life, you heeear?!”

Somehow managing to peel Tutu off me, I followed Pops to the back of the shop and into a large, one-window room that seemed to serve as some sort of storage space. In a corner was a neat pile of weapons and pieces of armor, along with a few other adventuring essentials. Sparsely furnished, it had only a bed on one end and a long table bookended by two sofa chairs. It felt as if only items related to dungeon explorations were allowed to take up space here.

Pops plopped down onto one of the sofa chairs and lit a rolled-up cigarette. The smoke had accents of a peculiar, sweet, leafy scent, as if fragrant or medicinal herbs had been mixed in with the tobacco. “So you were saying?”

I joined the gruff adventurer across the table and sat in the chair. It was very comfortable—must’ve cost a fortune.

“Yesterday, my party and I made it to the fifteenth floor, and tomorrow we embark on a mission to reach the twentieth. We’re going to try to push through in one go.”

“So you mean to test your fate on the Deranged Stratum, do you?”

“The Deranged Stratum?” The term didn’t sound at all familiar.

“I tried asking Lana about her role in the war, but she ignored—er, rather, refused to answer the question. So I went to King Remlia about it, and he told me he’d reveal the truth if I made it to the twentieth floor with my whole party intact.”

“Ahhh, right, right.” Pops nodded. “……And how did Princess Laualliuna look to you before that vile rabbit?”

“Perfectly calm. She told me she’s immune to that sort of thing.”

“That hare wields a mighty power no person—or any greater being, even—can ignore. What I mean to say is—”

“I know. No need to spell it out.” Lana always stifled her emotions and spoke much quicker than usual when she lied. Even I knew that much.

“Either way, a party can’t maintain itself for long if one of its members keeps secrets from the others. You made the right call.”

Afraid the conversation might go down the wrong rabbit hole, I moved on to the main topic. “I wanted to ask you about the monster you’ve been hunting.”

This mysterious foe had one of the most talented adventurers alive spend over thirty years chasing after it. That wouldn’t have bothered me if it was an enemy we could easily slip past. To be blunt, I didn’t give two shits about what happened to other people—I didn’t have the mental energy to waste on that. They could live and die however the hell they wanted for all I cared.

“So you’ve heard, have you? Well, I meant to tell you what I know in any case, seeing as you’re taking elves down there with you. But don’t get your hopes up, kid. I’ve spent more than thirty years chasing down that bastard, and I’ve got nothing to show for it.”

“What?” The father of adventurers has been after this thing for over thirty years, and even he’s still in the dark?

“First thing, it’s invisible, inaudible, and imperceptible. It silently snatches adventurers, leaving no footprints or traces behind. All it needs is a split second, a fraction of a beat, to spirit them away like some god—or demon. None of the adventurers kidnapped like that have ever been found. As far as I know, we’ve lost twenty-eight adventurers to it—a mere twenty-eight people in thirty years. Dungeon boars alone claim more than three hundred lives a year, and chochos, arguably the weakest monsters, kill close to a hundred. That’s why I’m the only one after it and why the Guild hasn’t intervened, either. When compared with the myriad of other dangers in the dungeon, this thing causes far too few casualties to require action.”

That made sense. The Adventurers Guild had their hands full; it was only logical for them to tackle the threats that endangered the most victims first.

Pops continued, “After one person goes missing, it usually takes about another year for the next to disappear. That said, we’ve never recovered any of the victims’ bodies, so we don’t know whether this means it preserves its prey long-term or goes into an extended hibernation after a meal. Most of these adventurers had exceptional skill with magic, though that doesn’t necessarily mean they have to be a mage to have great latent magic potential. Elves are, as a race, particularly adept at spellcraft. It’s safe to say virtually any elf is at elevated risk.”

I’d gotten a gut feeling to ask Freyja to come along. Good thing I’d listened to it.

“We do know without a shadow of a doubt that it lives somewhere on the nineteenth floor. I once blocked the stairs leading above and below that level to search for it.”

“Are there no other ways to get from floor to floor?”

“No. No secret passages lead into or out of that floor as far as I’ve been able to tell. Only, there is one section of the wall that stands out. It gives me an odd feeling. But never mind that; it’s hardly worth mentioning.”

“What about it?” This sounded interesting. The smallest details could sometimes lead to breakthroughs.

“Well, no harm in telling you, I suppose. Thing is, I found this section with odd markings. I had all sorts of people come to analyze them, but no one managed to decipher the text or its old, incomprehensible maplike diagram. More likely than not, it’s probably some graffiti left by an ancient predecessor. I tried excavating the stone wall with no luck; just like the rest of the dungeon, it returned to normal almost immediately. In the end, it had no connection to the snatcher.”

Countless civilizations had flourished and fallen over the ages in the Other Dimension. For one reason or another, relics of these lost societies could be found preserved in the dungeon. Still, the Tower of Legions had a long and storied history. Those markings could’ve also been the handiwork of a bored adventurer or perhaps remnants of a magical technique now lost. Aside from that, I couldn’t even guess.

“Once, years ago, we had another adventurer like you with abysmally low ryvius and magic levels. He was an eccentric collector, a noble who dreamed of following in Thurseauve’s footsteps, though in battle, he was pure deadweight. But this guy, he said he saw the ghoul. According to him, the snatcher has two long, thin curved claws and a glowering, skull-like face. It doesn’t have a lower body, and its upper body is all bones with loose, sagging skin draped over it like a cape. He only caught the slightest glimpse, but evidently, the thing disappeared into the darkness on the nineteenth floor. People at the time wrote it off as a bogus horror story concocted for attention, but………” Pops tapped his cigarette on a tray, dropping the ashes.

“I have a theory. That creature on the Deranged Stratum uses some kind of illusion that fools the average adventurer. That’s why this pampered noble couldn’t see it; he didn’t have what most of us do. But it’s been near impossible to test the theory, since hardly anyone who meets that criterion has ever made it that far. Except now I’ve got a perfect candidate staring me in the face, one who also coincidentally has an elven mage in his party. And it just so happens it’s been almost exactly a year since the last disappearance. If this isn’t a stroke of luck, I don’t know what is. Maybe it’s a sign I should ‘give up already.’”

“So what are you saying?” Maybe that stroke of luck would fall on me. Or maybe all the bad luck I’d had since I landed in this dimension was finally turning around.

“I’m going to lend you a hand. You said tomorrow, right? What time?”

“First thing, at the toll of the morning bell.”

“Aye, understood. That said, the so-called father of adventurers can’t exactly be seen privately escorting a party of initiates. I’ll meet you on the fifteenth floor.”

“Thanks a lot, Pops.”

“You can thank me once we make it through that dreadful level safely. I’ve told you before, and I’ll say it again, but I’m nothing special. Just a fool who abandoned his living friends to chase after the dead.”

Over three long decades, this adventurer had painstakingly hunted the same foe. But I had it on the highest authority that his tremendous skill hid behind that humility. I’d only caught glimpses of what he could do, but this haunted man was undoubtedly more powerful than any other adventurer I’d met in this entire dimension. Though strong, if push came to shove, he was also the only dispensable person I knew.

Arvin, did you ever think I’d use your killer to make it through the dungeon? The goddamn irony. Shit.

“Good, very nice.” I gave her a thumbs-up. Éa in glasses—not bad. Not bad at all. They made her look twice as intelligent and twice as adorable. Feeling someone’s gaze on me, I turned around to see Lana—who quickly looked away with a huff. I bet they’d be great on her, too, though it could end up being a chaotic mash-up of accessories.

“Last thing, Shuna. We’ve got a pro swordsman here. You could learn a lot from watching Pops. Don’t miss a second of it.”

“You better believe I won’t!” His enthusiasm threatened to crush me. I had the hardest time dealing with this kind of energy.

I surveyed the group one last time, saw everything checked out, and said, “Let’s go.”

On to the Deranged Stratum. Only the gods knew what we’d find there. As the saying goes, “Will we see a demon or a snake?” Or something else entirely?

Nothing about the dungeon on these floors felt different. Same as always, stagnant air filled the dim corridors, their stony walls and floors providing just enough space for three people to walk beside one another. The monsters, though, proved undeniably more formidable. Yet I’d never before—and probably would never again—had an easier time trekking through the levels. You know how in like RPGs, you can sometimes get a limited run with superstrong characters in your team? Well, that was exactly what we had.

Pops was badass. Every monster we came across from the fifteenth through seventeenth floors, he slew with a single strike. Powered by a deep reservoir of pure brute strength, he moved as quick as the wind and commanded all manner of tricks of the trade refined to perfection over many years. His longsword sliced through enemies like butter, ending their lives with one smooth thrust. But he had more than incredible swordsmanship working for him; he could knock monsters much taller than him out One-Punch Man style, and he had the detailed knowledge of where exactly on a monster to strike for maximum damage—background without which none of these attacks would work. He also had impeccable self-control; his stamina and ryvius barely depleted at all.

“All this time I’ve spent fighting these monsters hasn’t been a complete waste,” or so he put it.

We would’ve already stopped twice to rest had this been a normal expedition, but the father of adventurers showed no signs of slowing down, and his overwhelming contribution meant the others in my party hadn’t tired much, either. Lis, Gaslark, Lazalisa, and Lana had essentially done nothing but walk.

Freyja’s magic played a huge role, too, taking out at the very least half the monsters that encroached on us before they could even get to Pops. She wielded her flames with incredible precision, unleashing unspeakably powerful blazes in the tightest spaces, putting into practice the dungeon-specific spellcraft techniques she’d developed. As if that weren’t enough, Freyja’s magical reserves bordered on elven levels but replenished at heim rates. Clearly, it was not for show that she held that Champion’s title. I could almost hear the resentment boiling underneath Lana’s placid veneer.

The only one currently drained and exhausted was me. This time around, I was in charge of scouting, then baiting and dividing enemy forces. Whenever we spotted a monster in our way, Éa and I would mark it and share whatever intel we could gather. We did not attack without careful consideration. None of the monsters here would fall to one or two arrows, and wounded beasts posed far more danger. Those that communicated with their brethren would soon call for backup. Once huge numbers packed the narrow dungeon corridors, they’d overwhelm and crush you, no matter how talented of an adventurer you were. More than anything, we on search and recon could never allow this to happen. We had to cautiously analyze our enemies to figure out their strengths and weaknesses—though this time, that part of the job had already been done for us.

Baiting and leading solitary monsters didn’t take much. The physical and mental drain came from separating those that traveled in groups. One particularly taxing combo plagued us through the sixteenth and seventeenth floors: a monstrous symbiosis of a murder of chochos and a frog-headed biped. The egg-shaped, winged chochos bore markings that simulated a human face. Though quick in flight and armed with razor-sharp talons, they were one of the easiest creatures to slay—if you met them one-on-one. On these two floors, however, they traveled in groups, bunched together like grapes, around nine per cluster. Even pushovers could cause real trouble if they joined forces.

And by “travel,” I mean those frog-headed bipeds, slender monsters who stood about a meter tall, carried them around like a lantern. Their unnaturally long fingers looked frail, but in truth, they must have housed truly monstrous strength judging by the fact that they could carry a murder of those chochos single-handedly. While they moved their limbs sluggishly, the frog-heads’ tongues shot out at terrifying speeds, snatching adventurers’ armor—or their heads—if they weren’t careful. They then added these new trophies to the bunches they carried.

Frog-heads moved in regular circuits as a rule. Following the routes marked on Pops’s maps, Éa and I would wait for one to pass then attack it from both sides, my sister shooting an arrow through the hand carrying all the chochos, and I lodging bolts in the frog-head’s legs. The bunch of chochos would fall to the floor and scatter momentarily, then regroup and beeline for Éa. All chochos living on the sixteenth floor or lower tended to attack in groups. Once she’d caught their attention, Éa would guide the raging avian beasts to our party while I kept the froggy fiend’s eyes fixed on me, a job that quickly ate away at my nerves and stamina.

The frog-heads could extend their tongues out a full fifteen meters or more and as quick as a cannonball. I had to constantly take cover or risk losing my gear to that sticky trap. At first, I considered blocking with Agaccion, but it would only complicate things if my enchanted blade got stolen. It would undoubtedly return at my call, though unexpected damage to the sword could lead to unforeseen hang-ups. Piercing the frog-heads’ brain and heart also posed a challenge, as the former were annoyingly small, and the latter was thoroughly protected behind thick ribs.

I approached each encounter with caution, careful to not let my desire to end the battle quickly influence my movements. I’d hide from the whiplike tongue behind a corner, wait to hear footsteps, then show myself for the briefest moment, baiting it to follow me farther down the tunnel. These frog-heads didn’t walk while attacking; without fail, they would always aim first, then shoot. That said, even one hit from their tongues could easily delete me from the world; it would be like throwing yourself in front of a cannon. Avoiding them drained my mental energy, the anxiety eating away at my stamina.

My party sent word they’d cleaned up the latest round of chochos sent their way. Time to bring them a new froggy friend. Pulling up the route and guided directions on my glasses, I started zigzagging through the corridor, baiting the tongue to follow while sprinting and dodging its attacks.

Every once in a while, I’d run into another monster during this part. This was beyond dangerous.

A winged snake peeled off one of the corridor walls. These species tracked their prey through thermal energy, so once they spotted you, there was no hiding or running away. Their poisonous fangs left you paralyzed.

Ever aware of the two-legged frog following me, I killed the flying snake with two arrows. These winged serpents had two heads, one on each end of their bodies, and I made sure to hit a bull’s-eye on both. I did weigh whether to simply pin the snake to the wall, but the frog beasts had a natural aversion to them and would stop following me. I had no choice but to take them all down. Éa caught up to me, and together, we safely led our long-tongued foe to the party to meet its doom.

If our group hid close to a corner, then Pops would finish it off. If they stood straight down the corridor, Freyja would do the honors. Every time, a single blow by blade or spell would end the deadly game of tag for good.

ALWAYS split symbiotic monsters up before engaging in battle, read the message written in huge letters on Pops’s maps. Even so, I considered at first having Lana or Freyja take care of them both in one fell swoop of magic. But one half of the monster pairing would inevitably cover for the other, and the remaining half would lash out unpredictably.

If the chochos made it through the first attack, they would scatter and lunge at anyone they could. A full-on brawl would break out. As a rule, monsters tended to target the loudest player in a group. That’s why shield-wielding vanguards would set off some sort of device or let out a war cry; by keeping those targets focused on them, they could protect their party members further back in formation. However, chochos severed from their frog carriers completely ignored those rules. The frog-heads posed a greater danger if their chocho grapes got smushed first; they’d nab weapons or items your party carried and run away, amazingly quick all of a sudden.

Basically, we absolutely had to divide and conquer these symbiotic pairs. Once separated, the rest was easy. My sister and I took turns baiting either the frog-heads or the chochos, though she had a much easier time with either job. Back during her hunting days, Éa used to go at it for two whole days without rest or sleep, continuously lodging arrows into the wild boars’ thick hide so that it bled and eventually weakened. The boars in the Beastfolk Woods belonged to a species exponentially larger than their dungeon-boar descendants. A shallow magic spell wouldn’t even break its skin, and only truly heroic strength could slay one with a sword or spear, so the hunters had no choice but to rely on this traditional, cruel strategy. Éa had survived countless of these expeditions; she was a real hunter—something I fundamentally was not.

“Yukikaze, give me one of those shots.” I’d pretty much hit my breaking point, my ryvius empty from physical exhaustion.

“Squad Member Souya, they are reserved for times of extreme emergency or injury. It is exceedingly dangerous to use them flippantly.”

“Just this once. We’re on a roll. I don’t want to stop.”

“Presenting a suggestion to Lord Medîm.”

“Ah! You!”

Yukikaze took it upon herself to communicate with the rest of the party. “Apologizing for the sudden interruption. I am Yukikaze, the Repaired Wide Area Combat Program Advanced Isolla Model assisting you. Requesting you refer to me as ‘Yukikaze.’ An announcement for all: Squad Member Souya is knackered. Requesting a mission break.”

“Hey!” Don’t ignore my orders and do whatever you want!

These AI bots already had humanlike traits, but recently, they’d begun crossing the line, conducting covert repairs and upgrades on themselves. I had a bad feeling about where this would eventually lead. If we had been back in the modern world, I’d have immediately sent them packing to their manufacturers’ customer-support center.

“Yaya, you okay? You look super pale,” Éa asked with worry when she caught up to me.

“I’m fine. I can keep going.”

“Hey, Souya. There’s a watering hole nearby. We’ll stop there for a break,” Pops announced over the transmitter.

“………Okay,” I begrudgingly agreed, chagrined at what seemed to be a measure taken for my sake. Arrows leading to the spot in question appeared on my glasses.

“These are real helpful, aren’t they, Yaya?” my sister noted, fumbling with her glasses. “But they’re almost too helpful. I feel like my other senses are gonna get duller.” That made sense. But without this extra support, I’d be useless as an adventurer.

The two of us carefully made our way through the dungeon to meet up with our party.

“Good work, my love.”

“No, I, uh……” I stammered in reply to my wife, awkward as a fish flopping about on water. Her gaze fell. A weird tension hung between us.

“Let’s move. Souya, Princess Éa, get behind Shuna.”

“Okaaay.”

“Understood.”

Following the expert adventurer’s orders, our group resumed its trek. Freyja rambled about something to Lana, trying to strike up a conversation, but was flat out ignored.

“For you, dude.”

“Oh, thanks.”

Gaslark handed me some sort of fruit. Without thinking, I popped it in my mouth.

Sour! It’s super freakin’ sour!

The thing tasted about a hundred times more acidic than a lemon. Too much for me to handle, I guzzled the rest of the water in my bottle to wash it down.

“Ooh, I want one,” Éa chimed in.

“Sure thing.”

“Eeek! So sour!” my sister squealed. It’d hit her the same way.

Wait, I feel a little less exhausted. Is this a lump of citric acid? Like a pickled plum?

“Got any more?” asked Éa.

“Nah, man.” Guess she liked it. I’d have to ask Gaslark to teach me how to make them later.

The watering hole marked on the map veered away slightly from the shortest route through the floor. By that point, we’d spent four hours traversing the dungeon and, in those mere four hours, covered two and a half levels. If we kept it up at this rate, we could take a few more breaks and finish by evening. A day-trip dungeon exploration—a venture only the most exceptional adventurers armed with detailed maps could do. Everything was going so smoothly, I started to get nervous about our next expedition—if there ever was one, that is.

“Hmm, odd to see them here,” Pops wondered aloud, then signaled for everyone to stop.

Moss covered the stone walls and floors around us in the damp tunnel. Farther down, the path opened up into a brightly lit chamber with a fountain and an ancient garden. Clear water wound in shallow rivets across the thickly carpeted ground, which was dense with vegetation. Sconces lit by emiluminite crystals hung from the walls, and gnarled vines snaked over upturned chairs and tables. This almost-rococo scene felt markedly out of sync with everything else around it, as if it existed in another civilization or space entirely. The source of the water posed another mystery, an exercise in futility to ponder at all.

“Damn, that’s not good,” I muttered, too.

A frog-head sat right next to the fountain. Dungeon monsters generally detested all kinds of light, but both of this one’s eyes had been gouged out. The bigger problem lay in the murder of chochos hanging from its hand. Though I still didn’t fully understand the ecology of these avian beasts, I did know they settled down easily enough in dark rooms but would waste away, violent and haggard, if exposed to light. Most likely, this correlation was what drove them to attack adventurers carrying light sources. Every one of the chochos dangling from the frog-head’s fingers had atrophied into vicious madness, snapping their fangs loudly.

“What should we do, Pops?” All I could suggest was to avoid them.

“They’ll mob other adventurers if we let them linger. We’re taking them down.” Just like an experienced adventurer to have that sense of responsibility.

“Right, how exactly?”

“If they eat me, use that momentary distraction to flee to the next level. Don’t look back.” So basically, he was going to go it alone. All right, let’s see what you’ve got, what it means to be an adventurer a cut above the rest.

Pops stepped out in front, alone. His longsword in its scabbard, he took his round shield in hand as if holding a Frisbee. Most frog-heads detected enemies by sight, but since this one couldn’t see, it had probably highly developed auditory senses to use instead. Pops threw a random rock to test the theory out. It bounced off the fountain; immediately, the frog-head’s tongue shot out to catch it, several times faster than the ones we’d seen up to that point. I didn’t manage to see anything but the afterimage of the motion.

And yet, Pops was even faster. He flung his shield at the monster. My eyes didn’t even catch its afterimage. I heard the sound of metal slicing into flesh and saw an almost arterial spray of blood. The shield had cleaved through half of the frog’s mouth and lodged itself into the rest of it, sealing its jaw shut. Furious chochos scattered from the frog-head’s hands, then flew at their perch’s killer in a rage.

“Here’s a lesson for you to take home: Find chochos grouped up like this, and there will always be one who acts as the ‘brains’ of the flock,” the knowledgeable fighter explained. He then withdrew a knife and, with a flash of silver, plunged it into one of the chochos, and the rest crashed down to the floor as one. “Take that one out, and the rest will be temporarily paralyzed.”

The hardened adventurer pulled out his longsword and began swinging it back and forth like he was casually hacking through tall grasses, easily slicing through all the emaciated avian monsters. The frog-head whipped its long arm at our fearless guide, who severed it in two with a single slash of his sword. Pops then calmly walked up to the bleeding beast and buried his blade deep in the creature’s head, ending its life in one strike just as he had with all the others we’d encountered so far.

The man retrieved his shield and knife, then announced, “It’s over.”

It looked so incredibly simple, but I knew I’d never be able to replicate it. My brain had taken several shortcuts when processing the phenomena it could not comprehend, driving home the fact that the father of adventurers was on a completely different level.

“Souya, dispose of the bodies. Get our meal ready, too. I’ll go set traps around the perimeter.”

“Oh, uh, sure.” After calling my party over and giving them the okay to rest, I asked my sister to take care of meal prep. Then I got to dragging and dumping all the beastly corpses into the corridor, doused the whole lot with oil, and set it ablaze. It actually smelled pretty tasty. I got the feeling the frog meat would make a nice—

“Don’t even think about it. Those frog-heads are poisonous, and the chochos are just skin and bones—there’s no meat to be had on ’em,” Pops warned upon returning from patrol.

“Where on their body is the venom stored?”

“In a pouch by their eyes.”

“It’s to ward off predators, right?” Otherwise, the poisonous glands would probably concentrate around its mouth or limbs.

“That’s right. I’ve never seen one use that poison to attack anyone.”

“In that case, shouldn’t its arms and legs be edible?”

“You………” He fumbled for words. “Sure, they’re still monsters, but you’d eat something that walked around on two legs?” the gruff adventurer asked incredulously. People had a cultural aversion to eating bipedal animals or monsters in this dimension. It was why even though chickens existed here, they didn’t often eat poultry. Though, I’d also heard it’s because they looked too similar to some deities among the Legion Gods. I’d been taken aback by how they viewed chicken eggs as somehow bizarre.

“What’ll it be, Souya? You having those frog legs for lunch?”

“Another day.” We didn’t have time to waste during this expedition, and I needed to rest up.

When we rejoined the others back in the chamber, we found them all seated on a large vinyl sheet spread out on the ground. Lined up in front of the picnic tarp were nine gray packs, all bulging and blowing out steam.

“What in the devil are those?” our fearless leader asked, having the same dubious consternation the others displayed. Éa, who’d obviously eaten the mystery packs before, boasted an expression dripping with pride.

These were defense–armed forces combat rations; you only had to add water to activate a chemical reaction that would then heat the packaged meals. We had precious few of these special emergency reserves—perfect for expeditions like this where time was of the essence.

Pops and I took our seats with the others. A wave of exhaustion hit me as soon as I sat down. The weird edge I’d been on with Pops had tired me out more than usual.

Beep, beep, the alarm rang. Éa turned off the timer on the wristwatch I’d lent her, then, looking extremely pleased with herself, addressed the group. “Heh-heh-heh, I’ll bet you don’t know, but these are amazing. All you do is add water, and you can have a nice warm meal. Less than a hundred remain in the whole world, so you better be grateful.” Whatever was mine was my sister’s, apparently. “Just watch what I do and follow after me.”

The slender elf opened the pouch, dumped out the water, then gingerly removed its contents, her fingers dancing from the heat. In case you were wondering, each had two portions of rice, Hamburg-steak curry, and pork fried with ginger.

“Peel the lid off the rice, open the package, and pour this stew over it, then use a spoon to eat. That’s all!” she declared, then immediately dug into her own. The others followed suit.

“Wow, this really is nice and warm. The pork is so wonderfully tender,” raved Freyja. “……Could we not re-create this somehow with magic?”

“Milady, we absolutely must. We’d make a fortune.”

The Champion of Light and her maid ate their meals, their faces darkly conspiratorial. Gaslark turned his back to the group to have his.

“I’d be good with this every time.”

“………”

“………”

Shuna happily munched away, while Lana and Lis ate their meals in silence.

“Hmmm, this is really good, but it would be better with a little more oomph and spice.” Éa reviewed the curry.

“You’re basically an elite curry expert now, aren’t you?” I noted. My sister had an incredible capacity to pick up anything that piqued her curiosity. I, for one, would be grateful if her culinary studies broadened our dietary repertoire.

“I know. But it’s a hard life, you know? Lanceil’s the only one who can take any heat, so I have to add the extra spice to my own bowl every time, even though it’s so much better when you can let it mix in with the whole batch,” my spice-loving sister complained. “Oh, that’s right, I was playing around making a new hot spice the other day and wound up re-creating the seven-spice mix you use. I never would’ve expected pain relief fruit would play the key role.”

“Damn, you’re amazing.” Pain relief fruit? Oh, poppy seeds?

“I’m gonna try my hand at making the broth for udon next. Those little granular things you brought are super handy, but I bet you get way more flavor if you make the broth from scratch. I asked Ghett to pick some seaweed for me, so it’ll probably be waiting for us at camp when we get back. Oh, and once I finish that, I’m gonna move on to balsamic oils and little fermented fish dishes.”

“What are you, a master chef?!” It wasn’t long ago that the extent of her cooking skills was pouring boiling water into instant ramen. Talk about amazing growth.

“Souya.”

“Yes, Pops? Do you like it?” I’d been so engrossed in my conversation with Éa that I’d forgotten about him.

“Looked like you weren’t going to need it, so I took one of your rice packs off your hands.” The eye-patched man had blown through his portions, finishing both of his and pouring the rest of his curry over one of mine.

Afraid complaining would cost me the other, I gave it up and loaded my remaining rice with the ginger fried pork. The sweet and spicy glazed pork and cabbage paired perfectly with the bed of rice, providing my tired body just the calorie kick it needed. No matter how down or exhausted I was, white rice would always raise my spirits.

“Medîm, want to try some of this on your curry? It’s really good,” offered Éa, grinning mischievously as she took out her special spice mix.

“Aye, my thanks.” Unconcerned, Pops held out his curry. Shuna, who’d already fallen victim to this ploy once before, looked disgusted. Éa sprinkled some of the red flakes from her small jar over the stew, and Pops gobbled up a few bites. “Mm? Oh. Well.” His expression remained cool and collected, but streams of sweat ran down his brow.

Truth is, Éa, I’ve got some of your special spice on me, too—it’s a perfect blinding pepper spray.

“What do you think? Good, right?” the elf chef asked, beaming, not a hint of ill intent to be seen.

“Mm, not bad.” Pops shoveled the rest of the curry in his mouth, then gulped down all the water left in his bottle. His face had turned a bright shade of lobster red. That spice was too strong for heim consumption. Though, to be fair, it had made Lana cry out in pain, and she was an elf, too.

After lunch, Lazalisa made some tea for us. Its lovely aroma calmed my soul, regardless of its taste.

“Lana, Lady Freyja, please have some,” I said, handing them a bag of hardtack along with a squeeze bottle full of apricot jam. “It’s helped Lana replenish her magic before, so I imagine it’ll help you as well, Lady Freyja.”

“My, we have dessert as well? What a lovely tea party this is turning out to be.”

“Thank you. But I haven’t expended any magical energy yet, so—”

“I’ll take it,” Lis declared, then swooped in to snatch the biscuits Lana refused.

“Wait, Lis, you’ve got, like, unlimited magical reserves!”

“Hisss!” She bared her fangs, threatening me. I don’t really get it, but you’re basically equal to goddesses, right? You sure you can go around hissing at people?

“Souya, where’s mine?”

“Any for me in there?”

I ignored the young boy and the middle-aged man. “Lazalisa, how does it look?”

Freyja munched away at the dried sweets like some kind of elegant hamster. Lazalisa took her employer’s ryvius in hand to check her magic.

“Milady, these desserts are remarkable. Your mana is shooting back up.”

“Excellent decision to serve such rare delicacies, Sooberier.”

So maybe magic is somehow related to mental energy?

“Right, little chicks.” Waving his hand, Pops called for our attention. “We’re taking two bell tolls to rest,” he announced, then pulled out an hourglass. The bells rang every sixty minutes, which meant we’d have about a two-hour break. “Everyone, check your equipment for damage and your own ryviuses. Then pair up with at least one more person to inspect yourselves for injuries. I’ll keep watch. The rest of you, get some sleep. Once we get back to it, we’re heading to the twentieth floor without breaks. Prepare yourselves as best you can.”

We all got to work following Pops’s instructions. I checked my own gear, then surveyed everyone’s ryviuses. All good. Éa and I looked at each other for injuries and found none. Lana paired up with Freyja to do the same. That done, we all got comfortable in our own ways and rested. Using my backpack as a pillow, I decided to catch some shut-eye.

“Hee-hee,” my younger sister giggled as she wrapped herself close around me. She’d been extra touchy these last few days, and while I only saw her as a sister, it was starting to feel rude to Lana. But as soon as we finished our business here, I’d have King Remlia tell me the truth about the war, and we could put this all behind us. I just had to hold on a little longer. We’d made it this far without any trouble. I prayed to my goddess the rest would go just as smoothly, then wondered if that was an ironic request to make of the Goddess of Malevolence.

A dream?

Yeah, I think so.

At least, it felt like one.

I was in a forest I knew, but I became someone else. My stomach roiled with gut-wrenching pain and sorrow. The smell of blood and gunpowder filled my nostrils; nearby, someone wailed.

Through the trees, I caught glimpses of a terrifying creature—a massive, deformed, ravenous beast. It had its gaze locked on an elf and a black cat, both familiar faces. The two exchanged whispers, prayers, and vows.

Then there stood an elf and a raven-haired woman. Like two full moons, the elf’s eyes turned bright gold. The colossal beast howled at the lunar orbs in the sky. Burning red balls of fire rained on the forest as if they were tears from the heavenly beings.

When I opened my eyes, another chestnut pair stared into mine. “Are you all right, darling? You were screaming.” It’d been two whole days since we’d spent time this close together; having Lana this near set my heart racing.

“Sorry, Lana. It was just a nightmare.”

My stomach still ached as if I’d been shot, but the phantom pain vanished as soon as I forced myself to realize it wasn’t real. Evidently, I’d been the last to wake. Everyone else had packed up their things, ready to go. I drank a sip of water. Lana had not left my side. She looked at me, worry in her eyes.

“Sorry, this is totally unrelated, but didn’t you have golden eyes?”

Thousands of times, I must have looked into those chestnut eyes, but they had been golden when I first met her. Actually, I got the feeling they looked that way at other times, too. If anything, it was weird to see them brown, no?

What’s going on? Is something messing with my memory?

“No, my eyes have always been chestnut brown since birth. Do you prefer blue eyes like all the others, too?”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” I don’t choose who I like based on their eye color.

“Lala, your eyes do change color sometimes, though. You too, Yaya. Is that some kinda spell? Can you put it on me, too? It’s supercool.”

“Huh? You’ve never mentioned that. My eyes change color?” The news clearly startled her.

“Good, Souya, you’re up. Let’s move.” But Pops cut in before the question ever got an answer.

We’ll have to talk about that after we get home, too. Once this expedition ends…… No, don’t go there. I don’t want to jinx anything.

The short nap had fully restored my ryvius. I only had about as much as a puppy to begin with, so even a light sleep maxed it out. After some stretches, I got back into mission mode.

“Souya, I’ve got a suggestion,” Pops offered.

We rearranged ourselves in a special formation to tackle the crucible that was the nineteenth floor. Pops, Shuna, and I took the front line, followed by Freyja, Lana, Éa, and Lis in the middle. Lazalisa and Gaslark brought up the rear, with the exception that the goblin in dwarf gear would take on a partisan role, moving freely up to the front or center at his discretion. We put the four highest-risk members in the center of the formation. The snatcher never took more than one victim. That’s why we wouldn’t let it break us up; we’d keep these four together and protect them as a group. Someone suggested we tie ourselves together, but the string would only get in our way and would be pointless if it was somehow cut. We would need to stay in this close-knit formation from here on until we reached the twentieth floor.

Almost immediately after resuming our trek, we ran into a monster.

“Eyes.”

Following our battle-hardened guide’s instruction, I shot an arrow through the thing’s peeper. It had two legs, kind of like an ostrich without plumage, and a face as flat as a frog’s, features that made it look like some kind of processed chicken. An arrow lodged in its eye, and the unnatural chicken lost its balance and collapsed, flailing about violently. Even a bolt straight through the head wouldn’t kill enemies that easily this far in the dungeon.

“Shuna, you take the left. I’ll go in from the right.”

“Yes, sir!”

Pops and Shuna raced toward the thing. A couple flashes of steel later, and the monster’s head and torso plopped to the ground.

“Souya, dispose of the corpse.”

“On it.” Dragging the body over to one side of the corridor, I doused it with oil and lit it on fire. This one, I was almost positive I could eat just like that.

“Next.” We kept moving. “Legs.”

On cue, I sent an arrow to pierce the legs of our next foe, a monster with a dizzying array of eyes. The thing looked like a huge, ungodly chunk of flesh with multitudinous eyes and innumerable, razor-sharp tentacles, all propped up on two thin legs. I feinted so it wouldn’t slap my arrow away and released the bolt. Naturally, the monster lost its balance and fell over, restricting the movement of those tentacles, on which its body collapsed.

“Shuna, duck behind me and stay hidden.”

“Yes, sir!”

The wizened man crouched down low, his shield out before him; Shuna was behind, making himself just as small. The two slowly but surely crept toward the monster. Numerous tentacles slammed into the shield; Pops angled it with expert precision, deflecting the attacks.

“On my call, jump out to the left.”

“Yes, sir!” I was glad to see Shuna so pumped. Assisting the father of adventurers in battle would be a great experience for him.

“Now!” Pops pinned a bundle of the tentacles against the ground under his shield while Shuna leaped at the enemy and thrust his sword in its body. Without skipping a beat, the battle-hardened adventurer rushed at the monster, treading on its tentacles to get close. Under the onslaught of their two blades, the creature perished.

“Corpse.”

“On it.” Splash of oil, light a fire. We kept moving on to the next battle.

“Arms.” I shot as ordered. Once our enemy lost its balance, the two vanguards finished it off. I disposed of the body, and we continued on.

“You see the pattern now, don’t you? After those three.”

“Oh yeah.”

“?” Shuna tilted his head like a confused puppy as he pondered Pops’s question.

I voiced my takeaway. “Don’t aim for the monster’s most developed organ. Go for its weakest part, right?”

“Exactly. They habitually use the more distinguished, evolved parts of their bodies to attack and defend. So we center our aim somewhere else. If you’re lucky, you can destabilize your enemy with a single arrow or knife. Once it’s down, collect yourself and strike its fatal point. This strategy should get you through most of the less intelligent creatures.”

“How do you decide where else to shoot first?” Sometimes, monsters didn’t even have arms or legs to aim for.

“Experience, little chick. Trial and error.” Great, so the most difficult option. “Shuna, you’re quite the swordsman already. I imagine there are none in Remlia of your age who can match your skill.”

“Thank you very much!” The young boy’s eyes shone so brilliantly I hardly recognized him. Would it hurt for you to look at me like that sometimes?

“So no need to panic. Your sword betrays you, though that much is to be expected of one so young. Remember to take a deep breath before you go in for the attack every once in a while.”

“Yes, sir, I will, sir!”

Our party stopped in its tracks.

“And where should we aim for on that thing in our way, Pops?”

“Hmm?”

Down the corridor, a giant reptile known as a rock-eating turtle chomped away at the wall. We’d fought with an oversize, mutated version of this beast before. Compared with that, the one before us looked tiny—so small—but even so took up about 70 percent of the passageway.

“Think for yourself. Don’t expect all the answers to be given to you.”

“……Understood.” I stepped in front of the group on my own. Based on my encounters so far, this kind of monster was—

“Be careful, my love.” I gave Lana a wave in response.

Creeping up next to the giant turtle, I started hacking away at the wall with my woodsman’s ax. It was rock-hard but gave way easily after the ax’s blade made it through one of the layers. Fluorescent specks of unrefined emiluminite peppered the crumbled stone. I made about six fist-size clumps of the stuff, figuring they’d be easier for the big guy to eat than gnawing away at the wall, then made a trail with them, placing one every few steps. The massive turtle ate them one by one, with each bite moving farther away until the path had cleared.

“All clear.” I led the others past the hungry turtle safely. “How did I do?”

Not all dungeon monsters were necessarily hostile or violent. Those who remained calm if you looked them in the eye wouldn’t aggressively attack—at least, in my experience. Though, that theory may be proven wrong going forward with new monsters, but I’d only know for sure after gaining experience and through trial and error like Pops had mentioned.

“Not bad, I’d say.” Hey, why are you so harsh on me? “I’ll hand it to you for getting us through the obstacle without injury, but those turtle shells go for quite a bit. One that big’d probably run about twenty gold.”

“Saltine! We must turn back!” The shopaholic Champion of Light jumped at the news before anyone else could respond.

“Cease your whining, milady. The sight of it is too embarrassing, even for you. You seem like a petulant child.”

“Yeah, not a good look, dude.”

“Freyja, you will bring the Gastolfo name to tears.”

The three’s harsh criticism almost made Freyja cry. “But my money, my money…”

“Yes, yes, we know, milady. Time to move on.” The reptilian maid pushed her employer forward so as not to break formation.

“It’s no walk in the park to take them down, you know. And it takes time. Forget it.”

“My sheeell… My gold…” Evidently, not even Pops could distract Freyja from her loss.

Normally, adventures boiled down to a repeating cycle of trekking, scouting, fighting, dissecting, and resting. Since we aimed to finish this mission quickly, we’d removed the dissecting part entirely, ignoring all the resources we came across. I’d explained that at the briefing this morning when we met up. Have you forgotten already, Lady Champion?

The map on my glasses showed the exit staircase from this floor at thirty meters ahead of us. There were no enemies around the stairs, either; I let out a brief sigh of relief. We arrived at the next level without much else to write home about.

To make a long story short, the eighteenth floor was the easiest to cross. The array of monsters we encountered remained the same as the previous floor, and Pops gave commands and took the lead at the head of our group. We left everything to him. Seriously, adventuring in the dungeon had never been close to this easy. I didn’t have to think about anything, and I knew we were all in good hands. It became painfully clear how ill-fit I was to lead anybody.

Everyone was in even better condition than before we stepped foot in the dungeon that morning. Elated at all our successful battles, in the groove, and relaxed to have an exceptional adventurer leading us, we felt no more tired than after a nice walk. Plus, our magical reserves were basically full. Nobody had sustained injury. Every one of us in our peak condition, we took those fateful steps to the nineteenth floor. It looked exactly the same as every other floor before. And yet, something—

“?”

Shuna had apparently sensed the uncomfortable shift, too. The very air around us felt different; it hung thick with tension. Everyone else seemed to attribute the charged atmosphere to the floor itself, but I saw past that. It was Pops; the aura surrounding him had darkened. I took a sidelong glance at him and saw a demon, one cursed to spend thirty endless years searching for his friend in this shadowy prison, hunting an enemy he couldn’t see—all alone. The average person could not even imagine the fortitude that took; it was beyond human.

“Now, then.” The haunted man turned around to face us all once more. “Let me introduce you to the gatekeeper of this floor.” He lifted his thumb and pointed at himself. “Me.”

““Huh?”” Our party reacted as one.

“I don’t mean you need to take me down, but you do need to take me with you to the twentieth floor. This will be your last trial as initiate adventurers. Overcome it, and the Adventurers Guild of Remlia will recognize you as full-fledged adventurers and delegate quests they could not have entrusted to amateurs. Both the rewards and risks you encounter will not hold a candle to what you’ve seen so far.”

So all this time, we’ve been provisional adventurers?

“One more thing: Although not many people have gone missing on this floor, all of them were elves or those with great magic ability. You four are at greatest risk,” he said, looking at Lana, Éa, Lis, and Freyja. We had two Hoense School Leaders of the Final Flame, an elven archer, and a Divine Medium priestess—and one of them might soon fall victim.

If possible, I really hope it’s not Lana— No, stop. What a shitty thing to think.

“An evil lurks on this floor, one we believe to be behind all the disappearances. I’ve already told Souya this, but I’ve been after that son of a bitch for over thirty years.” Pops trailed off into silence. “……And I’ve got nothing to show for it. The twenty-nine parties who lost their loved ones here all searched with everything they had, scouring every inch of this floor. But no one was ever found. That’s why I’m going to keep searching until the day I die.

“So if one of you does go missing, the rest of you don’t go looking for them—I’ll do that for you. I’m just a man who’s failed to find the one friend he’s sought for this long, but at the very least, I can continue the search in your stead. And I will find you—I swear it. So don’t you dare stop here. Do not let this Deranged Stratum hold you prisoner. Once you touch that twentieth floor, you’ll officially become higher-ranking adventurers than I. Adventuring is all about results. No one below you has any right to demand anything of you. As of tomorrow, you’ll all stand above me. Keep that in mind and don’t waste your time on me.”

The adventurer, his face hardened by years of toil, continued, “I am just a wretched madman, an imprisoned adventurer—a failed one, at that. Take a good hard look at me and promise yourselves you’ll never end up like this. That’s my—” Pops’s voice caught in his throat. “No, never mind. Let’s move, little chicks. Time for your last lesson.”

Was I the only one who heard the words he never spoke?

Rhora the Deranged

Our party forged on in that same tight-knit formation, not running into monsters for a good while. I remained alert and strained every one of my senses, and I had Yukikaze keep her sensors activated, too. Her aqueous cerebrum had about enough power left to get us through this floor, an update that I shared with Pops, unnecessarily perhaps. Secretly, I also placed tracers on all four of our high-risk targets. If our defenses failed and one of them was taken, I’d be able to track them down.

Just then, a white figure suddenly appeared down the corridor amid the pitch-black darkness. As it crossed the threshold, the light from our lanterns revealed its true form, one so perverse that it sent a sinister chill slithering down my spine. Shaped like a person, the ghoul had skin as pale as one of a drowned corpse. Not a single lock or strand of body hair covered its sexless, emaciated, gaunt body. Unnaturally long nails, sharp and mean, extended from its fingertips. Most disturbingly, it had no mouth nor nose, only a huge eyeball where its face should’ve been. Piercingly blue and full of emotion, the eye looked too human for comfort. Out of all the varied species of monsters I’d encountered so far, none had ever stirred a physiological aversion in me like this one.

Pops put up his hand and signaled us to stop. That man had fast reflexes. Instantly, he closed the ten meters between him and the monstrosity, then lopped its head off with his longsword and brought the severed creature back to us.

“We call these things saplings. Watch its corpse, and you’ll see why.”

The headless figure twisted and shriveled in on itself into something resembling a young tree, then began to disintegrate and disappear into dust. A similar process began on the scalp Pops held in his hands, but so far, it still retained its former shape. Though almost too withered to recognize, long, pointed ears remained on either side of the sapling’s head.

“Look—these are elf ears, much like the ones belonging to the elven adventurers who have gone missing here in the past years. I take no pleasure in the thought, but it’s very likely those abducted adventurers serve as the foundation of these vile creatures.”

““………””

The idea left us all speechless. Finally, I understood how this floor came to be called the Deranged Stratum. Parties in their search for lost friends had presumably fought these saplings—monsters bearing the very same identifying features as their fallen comrades.

What a nightmare from hell. I don’t even want to imagine what that’s like.

“Aside from this Eye sapling, we’ve also got Ears, a faceless variation with incredible hearing. The worst, though, are the Mouths. Their entire face is one big cavity. These can chant magic, reproductions of the spells once incanted by kidnapped adventurers.”

A monster that can use magic? Damn, that’s not good. One relatively weak but wide-ranging spell would be enough to blow through the little ryvius I have and send me to my grave.

“Alone, they’re not much. Any adventurer worth their salt could take them down with one blow. But they’ve got a very dangerous ability. If an Eye watches you for too long or an Ear picks up a loud noise, they’ll call every other sapling on the floor to them.”

Some monsters on the other levels worked in the same way, but they’d only call four or five reinforcements at most. Shit would get real if every single one of these came at us at once.

“Do you have an idea of how many there are in total?” I asked, cold sweat beading on my brow.

“Normally between fifty and seventy. But they go through transitional growth, and right about now, they should number over a hundred. As if that weren’t enough, you can slay every last one of them, and they’ll spring right back up. In other words, we don’t have an exact number.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Not necessarily. As long as you stay hidden and quietly kill any you find immediately, you won’t have a problem. No problem at all.” He made it sound so simple. Or maybe knowing how to handle them alone made it “easy”?

Pops crushed the crumbling head, then looked up at us again. “Souya, Éa, I want you to take out those Eyes. Don’t worry about killing them—just make sure you hit them somewhere in the face. Don’t rush. Steady your aim and shoot. I’ll finish them off. If I fail, Shuna, you take over.”

“““Understood,””” the three of us replied in unison.

“If we encounter an Ear, we freeze. Don’t even breathe. I’ll take care of them. Mouths, we all attack at once—they take priority. Cut them down as quickly as possible, and no matter what, never let them finish their spell.”

“One question, Pops,” I interjected.

“Aye?”

“What if we run into multiple of more than one type?”

“I’ll handle it. The rest of you, back me up. Just try not to get in my way.” So basically, leave it all to him.

I didn’t find out until much later, but Pops was not the only gatekeeper to guard this floor. He joined parties with elves or powerful mages, but elite adventurers took turns guiding the rest of the groups. In other words, this level provided a chance for skilled veterans to show initiates how it’s done. It gave newbies a guideline of the powerful strength they should aim for, an inspiration to garner envy and motivate the newer generations to one day reach those same pinnacles of expertise. We’d seen more than our fair share even before reaching this floor—or so I thought until the father of adventurers showed off his extra tremendous feats of skill.

The words fast and nimble couldn’t even clearly explain how quickly he moved. Though better than average, his swordsmanship was not particularly out of the ordinary. Even so, it baffled me that a single man could achieve such awesome power with nothing more than a sword and shield. I’d hardly spent any time with swords, but even I could recognize the absolute mastery he commanded. Only with his blade and shield, this man could fight against anything and reach the highest of heights.

It fired even me up, which was surprising given my rather dismal outlook on life. But Pops had the strength every man dreamed of. Shuna, clearly just as enthralled, hungrily watched the adventurer, spellbound. His expertise became a source of inspiration for us, elevating our technique.

“Four enemies approaching,” Yukikaze alerted. Then we saw them at a four-way intersection: two Mouths flanked on either side by an Eye. Éa and I exchanged glances, silently deciding I’d take the Eye on the right and leave the left one for her. Our arrows sailed through their marks.

A lovely, enchanting voice began to flow from one of the Mouths. “O Flames, dance with your primal power and turn—”

But Pops and Shuna lunged at it, their swords crossing and severing the Mouth in two. Gaslark finished off both Eyes we’d blinded with two thrusts of his rapier. The needlelike blade of his beautifully ornamented, slender sword was completely covered with engraved words. This goblin contained immeasurable power, too.

I kept reminding myself to not let my guard down, but I felt oddly calm. Still, one thing was on my mind: Lazalisa had broken our formation, moving up to the center line to be close to Freyja.

“Lazalisa, is something wrong?” I reached out.

“Not exactly, but I have an uneasy feeling, as if something had its gaze trained on us,” she replied, nervously inspecting our surroundings.

“It’s impossible to walk like this, Lazalisa,” Freyja complained. She had a point; the addition of a fifth person in the middle group hindered their movement. The bulging packs the beastmaid carried only exacerbated the issue.

“Lis, could you set up a defensive shield on command around the four in the center?”

“I could.”

“Great. That sound good to you, Pops?”

“Quiet,” he hissed. I’d asked the man for instruction, only to get told to shut up. He motioned for us all to crouch down low. Three minutes of total silence passed.

“One enemy approaching.”

Another two minutes later, a faceless Ear appeared. The battle-hardened adventurer’s instincts had put Yukikaze’s sensors to shame.

Though it had no eyes with which to see, the Ear looked all around. The long elf ears sprouting from its head moved as if they belonged to a completely different creature, shifting and turning every which way to pick up any sounds in the area. Less stable on its legs than the other saplings, the Ear twisted its upper body to slowly shuffle along. Its uncoordinated movements somehow made it even creepier.

Stooped halfway down to the ground, Pops noiselessly sneaked up on the Ear and withdrew his knife. He thrust it straight into the creature’s heart, then went around behind and hacked its head off. It’d taken no more than a second for the man to nullify the threat, after which he signaled, Not yet.

Once again, we waited in silence.

“Four enemies approaching.”

All of us took shallow breaths so as to not move a muscle. We heard what sounded like an angry gnashing of teeth, then saw more Ears appear—four, exactly as Yukikaze had warned.

Éa drew back her bowstring, every creak sounding incredibly loud in the uneasy silence. She’d moved closer to the front line for space to pull back her bow and now had an arrow aimed at one of the Ears. It felt risky to me, but Pops gave her a Do it look. I joined in, moving my hand over Agaccion to slowly unsheathe the blade. My elven sister and I attacked as one, our arrow and blade pinning two Ears to the stone walls, while Pops and Shuna slew the remaining two.

“Good.” Our leader gave us the all clear, and we breathed a sigh of relief. This battle was testing every last nerve I had. The thought that a single mistake could cause an avalanche of these ghouls to rush at us had shaken me to my core. However, as long as we quickly, quietly slew them without getting noticed, it didn’t matter how many came at us. No problem whatsoever, if we didn’t mess up, that is.

Exploring the dungeon meant constantly treading the treacherous land of unknowns. I could pretty much guarantee we’d have to cross crucibles that would make this challenge look uninteresting at best. We had a cheat sheet, making this an easy fight; basically, if you can’t even pull this off, turn round and go home. All we had to do was play by the book in our last test as initiate adventurers.

After disposing of the cadavers, we set off once more, still out of formation.

“Lazalisa, please go back to your station.”

“I’m sorry, Master Souya. I cannot comply with your request,” she rebuffed, ignoring my order and instead staying in the center with one hand on Freyja’s shoulder. Éa also lingered out of position, walking at my side on the front line, where she’d move up to shoot.

“Do as you’re told, Lazalisa. I will not allow this impertinence while our party remains in action.”

“I deeply apologize, milady, but I cannot heed that command. The tip of my tail tingles; something is not right with this floor. I sense all manner of hostility aimed at us from both near and far.” The beastmaid’s lizard tail quivered, pushing up her skirt and bumping into Lis’s shield. The armored maiden looked very, very displeased.

I’d pegged Lazalisa for a reasonable type, not one who’d stir up a fuss while we crept around our enemy’s lair. Bad call on my part.

Breaking formation was never good. Packing the center with five people would make it difficult for any of them to move in case of an emergency. Three times, I warned Lazalisa to get back in line, but she refused to comply. I couldn’t force her to move, and I wasn’t about to get into an argument with her here, so we continued as we were.

Thirteen times, we battled the saplings, somehow managing to successfully fight and defeat them despite our bungled formation. Anxiety still gnawed away at me, but all that mattered was to reach the stairs safely in order to leave the dungeon. So I decided to drop it.

For about fifty meters we walked without encountering anything. The absolute lack of any enemies felt unsettling. Checking my map, I saw we’d made it about two-thirds of the way to the stairs.

………Huh? That’s weird.

We were taking the long way—was that the safer route? We’d done a whole circuit of the floor. Was I just imagining things? Or did Pops have a good reason, some involved strategy for doing this? What was going on? Wait, what if—?

The man in question braced himself for battle. Quiet, he signaled. We’d stopped at an L-shaped corner of the corridor.

“Three enemies approaching.”

Though very faint, I heard the same gnashing from before. Pops pressed his back up against the wall; the rest of us followed suit and waited. Keeping myself hidden around the corner, I took a peek at our enemies.

There were two Ears and one Mouth and Eye—four enemies. For some reason, they had lined up in some kind of formation themselves, one of the Ears in front followed by the Mouth and Eye to its left and right. The second Ear brought up the rear. Yukikaze had missed one. Were her sensors damaged? Or maybe the dungeon had interfered somehow? But I had no time to figure it out. With the saplings gaining on us quicker than I’d imagined, I turned all my attention to the issue at hand. I couldn’t even confirm what I saw.

“I’ll take the Ears. Éa, go for the Eye. Shuna, Mouth. Master Gaslark, I’d ask you to take care of the rest.”

“You got it, dude.”

I kept my attention fixed on the back row. Yukikaze’s sensors hadn’t picked up anything, but I wouldn’t be surprised if an extra monster popped up. That was just the kind of place this deranged floor was.

“Let’s move.”

We all burst out from behind the corner. An arrow nocked, I kept an eye out for the rear and watched the battle unfold with the other. Using his longsword, Pops chopped one Ear’s head off, while Shuna thrust his through the Mouth’s throat, and Éa sent her arrow straight through the other Eye. Then Gaslark moved in to finish, stabbing the Eye and the Mouth in the heart with his rapier. It dealt small yet fatal wounds.

“Huh?”

Something inexplicably strange happened. They all relaxed as if the battle were over. Shuna sheathed his longsword, Éa lowered her bow, and Gaslark fell back to his place in the rear line. Pops returned his longsword to its scabbard.

For a second, I stood there, dumbstruck. Then a violent explosion of something bordering on rage erupted within me. There was still one more Ear.

That’s it.

“Grant me the grace of the Hidden Name,” I prayed, preparing to shoot, and poured magic into my arm as I drew back my bow. Actually, scratch that—the arrow could not absorb my magic. The spirit of the hero inhabiting my gauntlet had already filled the bolt with an exhilaration bordering on joy.

“I found you.”

The phrase that came to mind and the raging emotions within me brought my blood to a boil. My lycan bow groaned under the strain.

I will not miss.

Never will I miss again.

With this strike, I will end it all. At long last, I shall sever this ill-fated bond, slay this kill that has evaded me through the ages.

After hundreds of years, I finally came face-to-face with my mortal enemy. Its featureless face had peeled off to reveal a shrunken, skull-like visage. Darkness blacker than a moonless night filled its eye sockets. It stripped off the skin of its arms to reveal two curved bladelike claws; its lower body disappeared as if in a haze, while a cape-like coat draped over its emaciated, skeletal torso.

“This nefarious abomination you have become cannot fool me! Rhora!” I cried. Souya’s companions and my blood daughters froze at the sound.

A pathetic excuse for a shriek escaped Rhora as she caught sight of me. Once again, she turned to run. Once again, she attempted to flee, the same way she had fled our motherland, and the same way she had baited me with the giant spider to escape. This filth no longer retained any sense of reason or sentience. Only its obsessive determination to survive had prolonged its life deep in this cursed dungeon. For years, it drained the raw blood of monsters, of humans, of me!

Die.

Die!

I shall vanquish you here and now! You shall only know unending pain until the sanity returns to your eyes! I shall force you to remember! To face what you have done! What evil your actions spurred!! Curse you, Rhora the Dragon Eater! Your treachery has ravaged my mother’s glory, you who brought infernal shame upon the family name!!

“Yaya, what’s wrong?!”

“Move, maiden!!” The young elf stood before me, barring my arrow. A foolish act. Too foolish to bear—her idiocy left me no choice but to shoot them both at once. Nothing could thwart my obsessive pursuit, not even my own descendant. No one could—

Despite the furious rage roiling inside, I took back control of my body and diverted my arrow, though the bolt that shot forth from my bow was closer to a light beam surging with magic force. It glided off Rhora, then completely wrecked the wall it struck.

As the explosion reverberated through the darkness, Rhora raised her cruel claws and unfurled her cape to abduct Éa. Nobody except for me had seen her. They hadn’t even reacted to her presence. I sprinted, leaped, then slammed my bow down on her talons.

I thought I saw Rhora smile. She slashed at both my shoulders, slicing through my knife-proof poncho as if it were tissue paper. Blood spurted violently from my wounds. But I’d managed to cover Éa. Rhora left gashes in my back as parting gifts. It felt more hot than painful. I gasped for air. The taste of iron filled my mouth.

“Yaya!”

“……It’s here,” Pops whispered.

I did it. I saved her—my sister was safe in my arms.

“Souya! Where the hell did you get those wounds?!” Shuna shouted in surprise, shocking the others as well. It must have looked like I started gushing blood out of nowhere to them. I’d forgotten one vital fact—that we were hunting a foe inescapably tied to Lümidia. Overpowered by her rage and obsession, I had come this close to shooting my own sister.

“Lis, if you would.”

“Fine.”

My full body weight still rested on Éa. The gashes must have been deep; her face heavy with worry, my elven sister stroked my hair.

“O light, gather to me and heal, I pray, I implore by my—name.”

“Urgh!” While not as severe as what I’d experienced under Lana’s care, searing heat and pain spread throughout my body. It felt like someone was manipulating the flesh around my wounds. And yet—

“All healed.”

—the pain instantly lifted. Leaning on my sister’s shoulder, I stood up, my poncho and camo fatigues obviously still in tatters.

“Lis, was it? What classification of magic do you use?” Freyja asked. “I’ve never seen something heal so quickly. It’s positively inhuman.”

“Heh, nothing a mere mortal could understand.”

“Come again?” Lis and Freyja turned against each other, ready to fight.

An uneasy anxiety and strange emptiness hit me at once. Pops stood eerily silent.

………Huh?

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding,” I spat, then turned to look at each of my party members: Éa, Shuna, Lis, Freyja, Lazalisa, Gaslark, Pops. “Lana?”

She was gone.

““What?”” Everyone but Pops stared at one another in disbelief. I didn’t blame them. Lana, who’d been with us just a second ago, had vanished in the blink of an eye. If I hadn’t forced myself to consider the possibility ahead of time, I probably would’ve floundered, not knowing what to do next. I shook Éa off and stood on my own two feet.

“Yukikaze, you’re following the tracer, right?”

“Yes. I apologize, Squad Member Souya. My system malfunctioned and failed to detect irregularities in Mistress Lana’s movements.”

Lana’s location appeared on my glasses. She was moving—fast. There was already a full hundred meters between us.

“Souya, wait.” Our fearless guide stopped me before I could run off. “You saw it, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Go. But leave any item infused with magic here—including your ryvius.”

“What? Medîm, what are you saying?” Éa protested.

“My gut tells me that thing can somehow detect magic,” Pops explained. “Listen to me, Souya. You are to find it and tell me where it is. By now, you should be painfully aware that it is not an enemy you can defeat. Do not engage; just tell me where to go. Put those Otherworldly skills and your Wise Eyes to use and spot that damned ghost that’s eluded so many adventurers for thirty long years.”

“No, no, wait, Medîm! Yaya will be defenseless without his sword!”

“Don’t worry. We’re going to draw every last one of those bastards to us.”

Far off in the distance, I could hear something shuffling toward us—all the saplings answering the call of Lümidia’s blast. Pops pulled out another odd tool; it looked like a mini rocket launcher with a trigger.

“I’ve got illegal gunpowder loaded in here. Once I pull this trigger, it’ll unleash an explosive blast that will call all the saplings in the dungeon home for dinner. This will put every one of us at great risk. Sorry, but prepare yourselves. I’ll make amends however you’d like—if we survive this.”

I hadn’t waited for Pops to finish to start readying to leave. Pulling out the needle the Dark Lord gave me, I unlocked and removed Heuress’s Gauntlet. Leaving it behind meant I’d lose the connection to Lümidia, too, but I didn’t give a shit about whatever yearslong feud she had with Rhora. From around my neck, I removed my ryvius vials and the coral necklace Ghett had given me, then unslung my quiver and placed it on the ground next to my lycan bow. Taking Agaccion in hand, I thrust it into the ground.

“Agaccion, protect my party—not me,” I commanded the enchanted blade. Its powers were more useful for them here.

Lana’s position kept moving. She’d now covered about six hundred meters.

“Yaya, take mine.”

“No. You’re definitely gonna wanna have that,” I said, prodding her with the compound bow she’d offered. She’d need it in a melee to take down those Mouths. “Plus, I’ll make less noise the less I have on me. Don’t worry, Éa. I’ll save Lana—I promise.”

“I know, but! But…… Sorry, never mind.” She swallowed whatever she’d been about to say. She was a good sister—too good for me.

“We can handle things here, Souya.”

“Thanks, Shuna.” No lengthy good-byes for us. Friendships between men are all about action, not words.

“Get ready,” Pops warned. “Open your mouths and cover your ears.”

He pulled the trigger. The resulting explosion echoed loudly through the dungeon. I’d plugged my ears, but even then, the blast was so intense it hit me like a knockout punch and made my head spin. The brief, silent pause that followed was soon broken by racing footsteps and hair-raising shrieks coming from down the tunnel. A wave of ghastly white wraiths rushed at us.

“By the Gastolfo name, I hereby command thee,” Freyja began to chant as she shoved her staff in the ground. “Heed my call and honor my blood. Bring me a miracle short of thy divine works, O Leteugan of the Frosty Winds, Li Bau the Death Shade. Do as I bid and steal these lives away.”

She brought her palms together, then opened them to reveal a sphere of white mist. “Behold this breath, the harbinger of death. O life-draining soul, bespatter and scatter. Hoense Romea Las Neomia.” Freyja blew on the sphere; it swirled together with her breath, sending a white, devastating gas to lap up every corner of the corridor. Instantly, thirty saplings froze to the core. “Lazalisa, destroy them.”

“Yes, milady.” The loyal beastmaid leaned forward. Using her extra extended tail as a third leg, she propelled herself forward to tackle the frozen saplings, shattering them into a million pieces.

The path opened up.

Smiling warmly like a true goddess, Freyja said to me, “Go, Souya. I have every faith you will rescue my dear friend. No less would I expect from the man I named a Champion of Light.”

I gave her a small nod, then bolted. A second wave of the humanoid saplings rushed down another corridor toward my party, and I heard my friends begin the fierce battle behind me. I did not look back. My friends were strong—much stronger than me. But only I could see that monster. Only I could bring it down. Save Lana. That singular goal in mind, I dived into the darkness.

I ran.

And ran.

And ran.

I just needed my legs to carry me to her. My heart could explode from exhaustion for all I cared. Following the route my AI bot displayed on my glasses, I raced down corridor after corridor with nothing but the flickering lantern light to guide me. My body burned, and my muscles screamed in pain, but both sensations felt detached. As long it meant I could save my wife, I’d surrender everything I had.

O, my goddess, Lady Mythlanica.

I offer you my life.

I beg of you, hear my prayer.

Give me the strength to save her.

I’ll sacrifice anything—anything.

I begged, I prayed, I ran, then withdrew my woodsman’s ax. Up ahead stood an Eye with a crushed leg that’d kept it from joining the others. Ducking under its raised claws, I dug my hatchet into its throat. Powered by sheer momentum, it cut through the sapling’s flesh; I hardly felt anything until it drove into the thing’s bones. I jerked the blade out, then savagely severed the wraith’s head. I felt nothing. There was no time to waste on emotion. Without breaking my stride, I pushed on.

I turned into a killing machine, obliterating any obstacle in my way as I followed Yukikaze’s guidance, turning around who-knows-how-many corners and racing immeasurable distances. My legs held up. My enemies, I managed to slay. Though I still only had the strength of an average man, my days in this dimension had hardened my body for these tasks.

“Approaching thirty-five-strong enemy band. Avert immediately!”

“Tch!” Clicking my tongue in frustration, I kept an eye on the red enemy markers on my glasses while I found a corner of the tunnel to hide. The saplings raced past me like a horde of zombies. My heart would not slow. Sweat began to seep from every pore on my body. Far off in the distance, I could hear the clangor of my party in battle.

“Enemies fifty meters away. Safe now to proceed as is.”

Lana’s marker had stopped moving. Only two hundred meters stood between us now. Using the last of my strength, I sprinted—

—or tried to, but— “Yukikaze, what is this?”

—I immediately had to stop. The corridor came to a dead end. I’d reached an impasse.

“The navigation route followed the exact path Mistress Lana took. The enemy must have passed through here.”

I threw myself at the wall and started hacking at it with my ax. But it was harder than rock; I couldn’t even make a dent. Panicking, I slammed the wall in a desperate search for a secret passage or switch.

Nothing. I couldn’t find a single thing.

“Shit!”

Giving myself over to my rage, I punched the stone barrier. The skin on my fist was scraped off, covering my hand in blood.

A plan. I’ve got to think of a plan. There must be something I can do.

“………Yukikaze, activate your pulse scanner and analyze the wall’s structure.”

“The scan will alert monsters to our presence. It is exceedingly dangerous.”

“Just do it!”

“Understood,” she relented. “……Operation canceled due to the Restricted Zone. I cannot activate the pulse scanner.”

“What the—?” Was she broken? I had no idea what kind of garbage she was spouting. “Then at least run an optical analysis on it. There’s got to be a secret passage somewhere. Hurry! Try anything!”

“Understood.”

I lost my balance, steadying myself with a hand against the wall. Dizzy and furious, I felt nauseated with panic. Clammy, cold sweat clung to my body. As my hand slid across the wall, it ran over something unusual. I rubbed my poncho against it like a rag. There, beneath layers of dust and grime, appeared a pattern, a pentagram. No, wait, that wasn’t it.

“Cos……cosmos?” Or so read the large letters inscribed beneath the circle containing the unfamiliar markings. Though faded from its exposure through the years, incomplete, and crumbling, the writing was undeniably—English.

“Data corresponding to the depicted representation found,” Yukikaze announced. “It is a structural diagram of the cosmos as developed by the fifteenth-century mathematician Petrus Apianus in his publication Cosmographia.”

I scrubbed more dust off the wall, quickly uncovering something that looked like those explanatory plaques you saw at museums. The text on it had degraded so badly that I couldn’t make out any of it. “Yukikaze, can you read it?”

The mini kettle’s analysis laser ran over the plate. “There are too many unreadable portions. The message is incomplete.”

What the hell is this? What is it doing in the Other Dimension? No, stop. I don’t have time to waste brainpower on that. I’ve gotta find something to get past this wall.

“It reads: ‘Here is a display XXXX by our distinguished forebear XXXX proving our XXXX theory beyond a shadow of a doubt. XXXX the universe is essentially XXX as far as we can comprehend XXX. XXXX endless darkness. XXXX to shine a light of hope, we XXXX the Sails XXXX.’

“That’s all,” Yukikaze informed me.

I wiped the sweat from my brow. “Anything else?”

“No. Howe—ver, the wall and the structure have———Restricted Zone’s……rra……”

“Yukikaze?” Static ate up her words. I opened my eyes wide in despair to have come so far only for her to break down here.

“Mr. Souya, please remove my core unit and place it in the center of the diagram—”

Her speech cut short; the lock on the top of the mini pot opened on its own. No time to stand there dumbfounded. Following her instructions, I pulled out the cylindrical artificial aqueous cerebrum in Yukikaze. Streaks of electrical currents, which were probably the AI bot’s activity, fissured through the cylinder, lighting it up like millions of stars shining in the dark night sky.

I brought the core close to the cosmography diagram. Right in the center of the map, a door just big enough to fit the cylinder opened. No time to consider what to do. I inserted the core. Light ran throughout the diagram, illuminating the markings. The sphere in its center glowed like a blue celestial planet I knew very well.

Something heavy shifted. Then thick doors slid open—the very same doors that had fooled adventurers for years. A path opened before me.

“Yukikaze, can you hear me?”

“Yes. Just as well as in the mini kettle. All in order,” her voice came through the receiver on my glasses.

“Send Pops my location. I’m going in. You stay here and keep the door open.”

“The risk is too great. I strongly recommend you wait for backup before proceeding.”

“That’s one piece of advice I just can’t take.” Ignoring her warning, I went on.

The tunnels behind the door differed from the rest of the dungeon, their walls and floors showing less degradation. They must have also contained a higher concentration of raw emiluminite, since I could see well enough without lanterns lighting the way. The good news was, I could see. The bad news, I had no map to guide me. Lana’s position still showed up on my screen, but I couldn’t read the layout. If you were to draw a straight line between us, it’d measure only one hundred eighty meters, but the place was an intricate labyrinth with a slew of dead ends. There wasn’t a direct path to my destination.

There were, however, plenty of the creepy saplings. I found an Ear standing right in the middle of the intersection. Holding my breath, I crept closer, then threw a small rock I’d picked up to have the wraith turn its back to me. Wielding my ax backhanded, I thrust it into the thing’s left shoulder, then bore my body weight down on it to push through to the heart. I twisted and dug the blade deeper and deeper until it rent the pumping organ. The Ear reached out both hands, desperately searching for anything. I tackled it, then decided to relieve it of its head just to be safe. Placing the blade of my ax against its neck, I stepped down hard on the ridge. Another one bit the dust. Once again, I was alone—at least, as far as my crude senses could discern.

On soft feet, I pushed on, going as fast as I could without making a noise. Past the broken door, in one room, I saw some kind of vessel not too different from something we could find in the modern age. But with no time to carefully inspect whatever it was, I would have to scrutinize it as much as I wanted to later. Right now, every second counted. Swiftly, quietly, and definitively, I needed to turn all my senses to the task at hand while keeping a lookout for danger.

I had to go in for the quick kill; there was no other possible option. One sapling, I could handle somehow, but two or more would overwhelm me. If they caught me, I was dead. That wouldn’t bother me so much if it was only my life on the line. I’d never thought it amounted to much anyway. But if I died, help might not reach Lana in time. I couldn’t die; therefore, I had to slaughter them with accuracy 100 percent of the time.

I killed eight saplings, my surprise attacks miraculously working every time. While still a far cry from the original, I’d managed to copy Pops’s moves.

Fifty meters remained between Lana and me. My path led into a wide corridor. Instinct told me I’d find her if I followed it. I forced my ragged breath to steady. Never mind the advantage of a sneak attack or that the monsters didn’t quite reach human stature; continuously slicing through flesh and bone and hearts, not to mention hacking heads off, took a heavy toll. Knowing that failure meant death and steeling my body for battle every time also chipped away at my stamina. Every muscle I had screamed out in protest at the unfamiliar labor. Pain twisted in my stomach. My heart felt about ready to explode.

But hell if I cared.

All I needed was to make it to the end of the day. I forced all the anguish down with sheer willpower, mentally squashing the exhaustion and pain.

I can do this. I can still fight.

Over my wildly pounding heartbeats, I heard soft footsteps approach, then saw a Mouth turn the corner. Run! I commanded my body, then sprinted for the ghoul. Its head plopped to the ground before it could even begin an enchantment.

Ever since I’d slipped through that door, I’d been firing on all cylinders. But I was working on borrowed time, the last flickers of light before the candle blew out. I didn’t have long. I just had to power through. Every second lost could mean Lana’s life. Hastily, speedily yet soundlessly, I noiselessly burned through my very life force to get even one step closer to my goal. Silently, I hunted my prey like a murderous beast, like Rhora herself, slaying the gruesome saplings to which she gave birth.

Then finally, I arrived—at a necropolis, an impossibly huge domed chamber. Majestic geometric patterns covered the lofty ceilings, and effigies of mythical gods lined the walls. Like tabernacles, rows and rows of stone coffins stretched out before me as far as the eye could see, adorned with deceased adventurers’ trophy kills. There were maybe one hundred, no two, or a thousand—actually, more than ten thousand at least.

In my peripheral, I found my enemy and my wife. I took off my shoes and crouched low to hide behind the coffins as I made my approach, then used my poncho to wipe my bloody, oily ax. The blade looked awful; badly chipped, it would almost certainly shatter the next time it found a mark. Shifting it over to my left hand, I took out my karambit and gripped it in my right. This was it—the final push. Don’t mess this up, don’t panic, but hurry the hell up. I ordered my body to move.

Mr. Souya, a suggestion. A message from Yukikaze appeared on my glasses. I have informed your party of your location. Please wait for them before engaging in battle. This is too dangerous.

The closer I got, the louder my thumping heart pounded in my ears. I came to a round, empty space in a corner of the sprawling cemetery. It immediately brought the image of an operating room to mind. Recently shredded clothes, pieces from a robe and underwear, accessories, and a staff lay scattered on the ground—the newest additions to the other broken weapons and antique gear haphazardly strewn about. Aged bloodstains covered the floor.

I saw Lana’s porcelain skin. Naked, both her arms and legs had been stretched out atop a stone bed that looked like a birthing table. She seemed to be asleep, her face resting in a pleasant expression as if she was dreaming peacefully, completely oblivious to the revolting ghoul that was Rhora at her side.

This wretched thing had some way to subjugate her victims, though whether that was through poison, drugs, or magic, I could not say. The dark voids she had for eyes drank in Lana’s body. She traced her long claws along the beautiful elf’s skin, eliciting a quiet “Ah” as they passed over her protruding breasts. I gnashed my clenched teeth together, making a gravelly scraping noise.

Not yet. Hold it. Just a little farther, and you’ll be totally hidden in her blind spot.

I had one shot. I had to kill her with the first blow. No way in hell I’d let her slip through my fingers. Pops’s intuition had been on point. For thirty years—no, much longer, this monster had deceived adventurer after adventurer, yet here I stood right by her, and she had absolutely no idea.

I stood diagonally behind her. Just a tiny bit more, and I’d be in the perfect position.

Just a—

—little—

My eyes flickered over to a half-open coffin. I couldn’t unsee it. The image of the elf’s bust tortured, toyed with, starved, left to shrivel up and dry, and strangled to death. For a second, I hallucinated I saw Lana’s future. With nothing but rage and destruction on my mind, I leaped from the shadows, my body low, as low to the ground as it could go, and with all the speed I could muster, I struck.

I’m gonna freakin’ kill you.

Blood went flying everywhere. Red droplets splashed on Lana’s cheek.

“Grh! Agh!”

As Rhora had whipped around, her claw pierced my left shoulder. I’d messed up. At the very last second, I came up short, failing to conceal my presence.

Still, I can work with this!!

“You know, rgh—”

I leaned into the situation literally, walking forward until Rhora’s claw dug all the way to the hilt into my shoulder. A wild, beastly howl escaped me before I plunged my karambit into Rhora’s other arm, driving it deeper into her flesh. She could not easily break free from the talon-shaped blade’s grip. We had each other locked together, one arm each immobilized.

“There’s someone coming for you.” Rhora’s other claw came down on me; I blocked with my ax, but it sliced into the blade. “And he’s a goddamn beast. If he hadn’t been after you for so long, he would’ve been basking in glory by now.”

Rhora roared, spraying her foul breath in my face. I pulled my head back, then rammed it into hers. She writhed violently, swinging me along with her. We bumped into the stony bed and sent Lana falling to the floor. She looked unharmed. Relieved, I turned back to the ghoul. Both of us had lost our greatest asset—the ability to cloak ourselves in the shadows. Our weapons were far from deadly; the brawl didn’t even come close to a mudslinging match.

My ax shattered. I didn’t care. I pummeled Rhora with the hilt and slashed away at her with the chipped blade. The creature slashed me all over with her claw, ripping my skin. It was sharp as hell. But in such close quarters, she couldn’t work up the speed she’d need to cleave my limbs or body in two. All I had to do was fend off fatal attacks. She could take all the blood, flesh, and bones she wanted from me. My friends were on their way. If I could just buy some more time, I’d win. Even if worse came to worst, I’d have saved Lana—and that’d be a huge victory.

But then.

Squish. I felt something stab me in the stomach. A taillike tentacle protruding from the wraith’s body had pierced my abdomen. All-consuming drowsiness engulfed my body. I faltered, my vision flickering in and out. Sweet sleep called to me, promising entry to heaven if I just let go.

I bit my lips hard. Even that pain felt dim and distant.

Not yet.

I fished for the pen syringe out of the open mini kettle. It had no needle, instead delivering drugs through pressure alone. Raising it up against my neck, I pushed the button.

“Rgh!”

Lukewarm fluid rushed into my veins. My temperature shot up like crazy, and my body began to shake. The drugs were strong. It temporarily numbed all pain, cured exhaustion, and increased your focus. Use it too often, and it’d cripple you for life. I’d brought it along in case of emergency, if one of us sustained a life-threatening wound. My heart beat even faster; all sense of pain or fatigue disappeared instantly, scaring me.

I woke up. The claw pummeling toward me suddenly seemed to decelerate as if in slow motion. Though I’d regained my senses, I couldn’t move properly. What I could do, though, was make sure Rhora’s other claw pierced through my right shoulder. The pain came but felt distant. I rammed my broken ax into the ghastly thing’s arm and gouged at it. I screamed. The snatcher was lighter than I’d imagined. I slammed her against a nearby stone coffin, but whatever power kept her floating in the air whirled me around.

Our nasty brawl continued. Sometimes, my head would crash into something, and I’d lose consciousness for a second. An endless stream of blood gushed from my shoulders.

Rhora, you don’t want to die, do you? But not me. As long as I can kill you, I’m set. Worst- or best-case scenario, all I want is to save her. Nothing else matters.

That’s why you’ve lost this game.

Rhora and I toppled over. I found a shard of my shattered ax lying next to me. Gripping the broken blade between my teeth, I stabbed it into the wretched ghoul’s neck. Fervidly, vigorously, I drove it in, never letting the monster out of our bloody embrace. She let out an earsplitting scream.

Just a little more—

Just a litt—

—le—

—Click. I snapped. My body reached its limit. Only then did I realize I was drenched in my own blood. Draining the last dregs of energy, I tried to force myself to my feet, but the connection between my muscles and mind had severed. I couldn’t move. No matter what I tried, my body wouldn’t budge. The drug wore off, too, for one simple reason: I’d lost too much blood. The shard of ax had eaten into Rhora’s neck, but it wasn’t nearly enough to kill her.

So this is the end, huh? Can’t say I feel regret, exactly. If anything, I think I did pretty well for myself. But I’m sorry, I apologized silently, then lowered my gaze.

Faces of all the friends I’d met in the Other Dimension flashed before my eyes. Memories of the good days, tender meetings and warmth, of the short yet adventure-filled time I’d spent here raced through my mind. The night I picked up a sword to defend my friend’s honor. The morning after, when I saw the girls’ shining faces as I awoke. The evening I met a tiny little goddess. They all felt so far away, as if everything had been just a dream—a fantasy.

This is where my adventure ends.

The murderous freak violently extricated her claw from my right shoulder. At the very least, I could go out staring her in the eye like a real man. Fixing my glare on her, I said, “Mind if I get in one last thing?” She raised her arm to strike.

“How does it feel to get your ass kicked this bad by a nobody like me? Freakin’ loser.”

Her claw came down, lodging itself in my forehead. A dull thud reverberated through my bones. Then I saw a steel blade sprout through the wraith’s chest. It pierced straight into where her heart would have been without a shred of mercy.

“At long last, I found you.”

Pops withdrew his blade. Rhora wailed; it sounded like a last, pitiful plea. The sword came down, cleaving off everything above the pathetic monster’s shoulders.

“Wait……… That can’t be all you’ve got.” The livid adventurer stabbed at the mutant. Over and over and over. “You can’t be this easy to kill!” he roared, torturing the monster’s already-lifeless body. For a second, I saw his raw emotion, pent up from decades of fury, and felt the pure rage of a young man. He released all his anger onto the corpse, beating it until eventually his longsword broke under its master’s strength.

After a brief, dumbfounded pause, Pops was back. He was the father of adventurers once again. I saw my friends nearby.

“Souya, you did good. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you.”

“Pops, take care of the others,” I managed to say, then finally releasing the last straws of my consciousness. Only the gods knew if I could return alive with these wounds.

Oh, but you know, I feel the smallest sense of accomplishment. I can die in peace.

At Adventure’s End

“I mean, spiritually or, like, physically, you kno— Ngh—!”

She smothered my lips with hers, earnest yet clumsy. Her sweet smell was so close it made me dizzy. As our breathing became hot and heavy, we wove our tongues against the other’s until they almost melted together; the border between her and me seemed to dissolve. It was as if we had always been one. I wanted to tell her the millions of dirty thoughts in my mind, but the desire to put my mouth to better use was stronger. But first, I repositioned myself just the slightest to connect us even more deeply.

Words of desire escaped our lips, delirious with passion, wild as a beast’s, frenzied and urgent. There were many more things that still remained unsaid between us, bonds that needed mending. They said all flames must die; perhaps then, this love would one day flicker out as well.

But even so—

—I thought.

Even so, especially so, this moment right now is worth an eternity.

Good day, good evening, good morning. I’m the author, Hinagi Asami. Thank you very much for picking up a copy of The Otherworlder, Exploring the Dungeon, Vol. 3.

Volume 3! We’ve made it to Volume 3! Thank you for waiting for what turned out to be quite a long time since the last book!

I struggled quite a bit with the structure of this volume. A straightforward narrative made it redundant as a novel, but cutting out pieces left holes in the story. If I had randomly stuffed it with everything I wanted, it would have been twice the length of Volumes 1 and 2. So in the end, I focused on writing the essential points while adding or editing some of the main characters’ adventures, which I think resulted in a better narrative.

While this third novel in the series is a single volume, it contains three books’ worth of content. I’m kidding, of course, only joking. I was sure my editor would object when I ended this one with a To be continued, but I actually got the approval without any real issue. Even if there wasn’t a next volume, I’d hope to have the story passed down by word of mouth.

What’s going to happen next?!

Looking back, last year was very busy. I had my first novel published, along with the second volume in the series Incredibly, and the story was also serialized as a manga by Kaoru Hoshino on Comp Ace and Comic Walker. Whenever the first volume comes out, please, please do check it out!

Now that I’m on my third afterword, I’ve come to a realization: Ah, I can’t write these for shit………

Come to think of it, in one light novel I read, the author used the afterword to talk about Bell Marks, a system similar to collecting box tops to fund education for kids. Back then, my younger self scoffed at it, thinking, C’mon, who cares about Bell Marks? Talk to me about the story! I want to know what happens next.

But of course, now that I’m a writer, it’s become clear that afterwords are a tricky business. I want to talk about the story you just read, but then again, I said basically everything I had to say on the topic in the novel itself. Plus, what kind of author would give away spoilers in their own book? So what do you say? I don’t know! I’ve got nothing! Someone, give me a question, please!

Now, all these years later, I am painfully aware of how wise my predecessor was. I almost want to start collecting Bell Marks for myself to have something to talk about. Not that I have the time for it, though!

Lastly (though I really, really hope this is not the actual last note I’ll write), I’d like to graciously thank my editor and proofreaders, Kureta for the amazing illustrations, the Dragon Novels editing department, all the readers who purchased a copy of this book, and everyone who collaborated with me on this project.