Chapter 1: Killing Country Eater

The largest taboo territory on the continent was located far to the northwest of the fortified city of Garlaige, which was itself on the western border of the Kingdom of Emelia. This taboo territory practically took up the entire western part of the continent, including its coastline. Roughly two centuries ago, one of the countries there at the time had tried to instigate a taboo territory boss into attacking a rival country, with the tragic result being equal annihilation for all. No one had entered since. It was now a giant blank spot on maps, a land that no country dared lay claim to. The name given to the boss of this taboo territory was Country Eater.

Having earned the ire of all humanity, the country responsible had been thoroughly erased, such that no one even knew its name anymore. All that remained was the knowledge that its actions had led to a catastrophe of unbelievable scale. The nations swallowed up by Country Eater, including the culprit, had numbered seven in total. The one that had been targeted was the Holy Kingdom of Crystania, which had ranked among the top five nations in the world alongside the Emelia Kingdom, the Istekario Empire, the Amnesphia Sovereignty, and the Poseinia Eastern Seaboard Federation. The common populace had called it the Kingdom of Magic, as its military and economic strength had been buttressed by such superior magic that it had been seen by all as the greatest power on the continent.

And yet, it had been obliterated with its six closest neighbors within a month. The upheaval this incident caused across the continent was said to have been on par with the events of a millennium ago as alleged by the Kuzuifabra. Country Eater had been such a major calamity that if it hadn’t stopped expanding its territory after the seventh country, the entire continent—and human civilization—would have been snuffed out entirely. The armies sent by the seven countries had been squashed like ants, and the Divine Punishment fired by the Holy Church had been absorbed and reflected all around as a spread-out barrage. The humans of the time had been truly powerless, and if the situation had worsened any further, chances were high that the Church’s last resort, the man-made angels, would have been deployed.

Anyone who got to watch the footage of the catastrophe would undoubtedly find themselves at a loss for words. The way that cities as large as Garlaige were swallowed, walls and all, to then gradually lose their silhouette until fading away to nothingness evoked not so much fear as it did instinctual disgust. It was like a nightmare dreamed by a madman.

Management of taboo territories consequently clamped down hard, but no one complained. The wisdom of the saying “let sleeping dogs lie” had been duly impressed on the world. Those who intentionally worked against those measures were seen as either actively trying to bring harm to others or completely out of their mind. There weren’t enough resources or tolerance going around to permit their foolishness as mere expressions of freedom. As the concept of human rights only applied to humans, those rejected by society were treated even more harshly for having the appearance of a human while not being one.

Two hundred years later, man was once again returning to this land. The person who now had final say on everything in this world, Sol Rock, had decided to devote his energy to delving into named dungeons and retrieving the organas that Lunvemt Nachtfelia the All Dragon had lost: an eye, a horn, and a pair of wings. After receiving contact from an unidentified being during the restoration of the Floating Continent, Sol had deemed it a top priority to restore his best fighter to her prime form.

The first target he had chosen was Abyss, the massive dungeon previously managed by Crystania, where he expected to find Luna’s wings. He had considered the others—Pit was in Emelia, Void was in Istekario, and Chasm was in Poseinia—but ultimately decided that Abyss would make for the best demonstration.

As part of the effort to conquer Abyss and retake one of Luna’s organas, he would also eliminate Country Eater, the boss that had reigned supreme over a taboo territory for two whole centuries. His group was preparing this very moment for the show that was to be broadcasted through his display windows to the entire world.

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This day, clouds hung heavy over the western part of the continent. Despite it being nearly noon, the land was enveloped in a dim and dismal light. There was no rain yet, but there was little doubt that once it started, it would quickly intensify into a downpour that would obscure their line of sight.

Correction: The rain had just started. One drop hit a leaf, followed by one more drop, and in the blink of an eye, they were joined by countless others. The vast expanse of the west quickly became shrouded in the contradiction of that strange phenomenon where falling rain, when it reached a certain regularity, seemed to be even more tranquil than an actual absence of sound.

The raindrops fell on the ground and the motionless, mountainous form of Country Eater alike. The slime’s glossy appearance would lead one to expect the water to slide off, but on the contrary, it was absorbed. Consuming even the minuscule mass of raindrops was how the monster had grown so huge.

Suddenly, the core deep inside the slime’s murky, semitransparent body lit up with a dull light. Then, as if seeking something, countless tentacles shot out with geometric precision that could seem beautiful or revolting depending on the beholder. After two centuries of being unchallenged in its dominion, the monster was now clearly on the alert. And because it had no idea what it was facing, it was doing all it could to gather information.

All that effort was for nothing, though, as the intruders had zero intention of hiding. First, the floating islands that Sol had granted to each member of the Panhuman League teleported in with multicolored flashes, hovering underneath the rain clouds in a ring that encircled Country Eater. The next moment, a man-made object much smaller than the islands—the airship that would go down in history as Sol’s flagship—appeared in the center of the ring with an explosion of light.

Country Eater promptly responded by sending out a barrage of tentacles. However, attacks from a mere slime, no matter how many levels it had, had no hope of penetrating the basic protective barriers of the floating islands. The magic circles that lit up from the barriers being activated and the flashes from additional shields that became visible only when taking hits filled the dull, inky scene with every color of the spectrum.

When the lights faded, a blade of light descended, punching through the clouds. This was a particle beam launched from Uranos, the only attack satellite still operational. Also known as a Divine Punishment, these satellites were the ultimate lost technology in the arsenal of the Holy Church, which was now entirely under Sol’s control.

High-pitched blasts rang out in quick succession as the many layers of protective barrier that Country Eater maintained around itself were shattered like glass. While the All Dragon had been able to block this attack without breaking a sweat, it was apparently more than enough to tear through the defenses of a taboo territory boss.

When the beam actually reached Country Eater, however, there was no deafening boom as one would expect. Normally, when a projectile attack landed on a target, even if it was blocked, a significant portion of the energy created would be converted into sound. But that did not happen.

Instead, a buzzing reminiscent of the beating of an insect’s wings filled the air as Country Eater absorbed the orbital strike. After lasting a few dozen seconds, the energy involved was more than enough to raze a city the size of Garlaige to the ground. And now, all that energy was packed inside the slime, with the glow of its core expanding to its whole half-transparent body and becoming bright enough to illuminate its surroundings.

The disaster from two centuries ago was on the verge of being repeated.

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“It really didn’t work,” said Sol, mildly surprised, as he watched from the airship directly above the slime.

Records from two hundred years ago said that Divine Punishment was ineffective against Country Eater, but Sol had wanted to test it out for himself. This was because he hadn’t found any video footage of the last face-off against the monster, even though the Church most definitely had access to technology that could easily keep such records back then. The conclusion he had drawn, therefore, was that there had been footage but it had been erased—probably not by the Old Rulers, but someone in the ensuing lines of popes who had been afraid that it would harm the institution’s image of infallibility. In short, a foolish act by an insecure man.

Regardless of whether their intentions were righteous or malicious, someone who would alter or erase records was simply a coward. While there were people who would seek to leave behind a fragment of themselves as books, there also were those who could, without batting an eye, burn thousands of books—thereby snuffing out the same number of wishes—purely to satisfy their twisted beliefs. Having come face-to-face with a real example, Sol was determined to preserve everything he had retrieved from Biblioteca while praying that Origin, the original scripture that had been taken away from the lectern in the farthest depths of the facility, was still safe and whole somewhere.

“It’s a special ability characteristic of slimes. Any other monster would have been burned to a crisp.” Luna’s helpful commentary was delivered from her seat on Sol’s lap, with her adorable appearance and the savagery of her words presenting a contrast so drastic as to be almost hilarious.

There was, however, a more fundamental issue: There was a distinct lack of tension surrounding them. It was really hard for Sol to seem serious, despite sitting in the captain’s seat, when he had Luna on his lap, Little Alshunna splayed out on his head, and Aina’noa hugging him from behind.

“My lord, um...are we okay like this?” asked Little Alshunna, the newest addition to the merry band.

“Hm? Well, we’re all family here. And I’ve learned to compartmentalize your looks and strengths.”

What Little Alshunna was questioning was already a simple fact of life for Sol’s group. As much as Sol understood how terrible the powers his monsters possessed were, he had also come to accept the way they insistently clung to him like children fond of their father. For them, facing Country Eater wasn’t much more momentous than a normal day. The ones who were nervous were the other members of Libertadores who had yet to get used to such situations and still somehow fit within the definition of a human.

Sol’s casual reply indicated that he was probably the furthest from the word “normal” among mankind, but it could be argued that him being this way suited him best as the Boy Who Ruled the Monsters. That said, like most people, he felt he could react with greater flexibility if he stayed relaxed, as opposed to always being tensed up. Being at ease looked similar to being careless, but the nature of the two couldn’t have been more different. Sol’s group just looked a little too nonchalant when at ease; that was all.

Luna chuckled, looking smug for some reason. “Looks like our dear Demon Lord still has much to learn.”

There was definite chagrin on the face of the Demon Lord, so Sol assumed his servants were one-upping each other in a way he didn’t understand. Aina’noa, however, seemed oblivious, as usual.

In sharp contrast to the laid-back monsters and their laid-back master, Reen and the others present were practically a bundle of nerves. The thought that their tetrad would soon be facing history’s most powerful taboo territory boss was affecting them, but that was not all. The outlandish setup of the airship’s bridge was getting to them too. They each had their own seat and were spread out in a fan, with Sol’s seat in the very back. That was fine. He had already done a lot more for them than give them a seat, and it actually made them happy that the arrangement was based on the assumption that they would be with him.

There were multiple display windows before each seat, displaying crucial information in real time. This was fine too. Everything looked so futuristic as to be out of place in this era, but everyone had become familiar with the functions of Player due to the time they had spent with Sol.

What, then, were all four so taken aback by? Put simply, this bridge had no roof. Of course, that was silly and ridiculous. There was a roof, and the girls knew it in their minds. There was no wind in the room, and the temperature and humidity were at comfortable indoor levels. The problem was that the roof was covered entirely in display windows showing the view beyond, creating the visual effect of open air.

That in itself would induce anxiety in most people, but the same thing had been done to the walls and floor too. Sight was the primary way in which humans perceived the world. And at the moment, the girls’ brains were telling them that they were sitting on floating chairs looking down at Country Eater from up high. It would have been different if they were wearing their Numbers armaments, in which they had a certain amount of experience conducting aerial battles. Alas, they were in their usual clothes, albeit wearing their foundation suits in lieu of underwear. Therefore, they felt they were in the open sky with nothing but a chair. No one could relax under such circumstances.

Reen’s seat alone was different from the others. Hers was located in the middle of the bridge area, directly in front of Sol’s seat, and connected to a whole host of instruments. She also had her Numbers armament, Number Nine: Type Kuzuryuu, already deployed, and additionally, she was wearing a special helmet. This helmet, which she did not usually wear in combat, fed her visual and sensory information that the others didn’t receive.

Like hers, Sol’s seat was also clearly meant to be a lot more than just a place to sit. His was a whole device made by Gawain using the auxiliary brain of a monster that could use numerous abilities in parallel. Its purpose was to assist and boost all his Player abilities—it read his mind and, on his behalf, employed skills and abilities in the most optimal way to achieve what he wanted.

Unfortunately, Sol could not put on armis magicka like the Numbers armaments, which were made from materials that still strongly reflected the wills of the monsters they came from. He had tried a few times, but every time, the remnant will had recoiled from him in fear. Even when he forcefully put it on, he couldn’t use a single one of the functions it was equipped with.

There was a simple reason for this: He was covered in the scent of a certain dragon who, by always clinging to him, had basically marked him. To make matters worse, the scent she left was one that a dragon used only for the one they acknowledged as their master. He was, in effect, walking around with Luna screaming to the world that he commanded her absolute loyalty.

Thanks to that, even if he somehow reverted to level 1, he could walk into any monster territory or dungeon without wearing any gear whatsoever and not see a single monster, as they would all run away the moment they sensed him. The effect was similar to how someone could plunge into a jungle after applying army ant pheromone and not have to worry about small insects like wasps, mosquitoes, and flies. Creatures that lived by instinct knew what to do in such situations without being told.

The majority of the materials that Gawain was using to make everything of late came from monsters killed by Luna. These monsters, once proud and haughty but struck down by the equivalent of a mere slap, were absolutely terrified of her. Understandably, they had trouble becoming attached to a being whom she accepted as her superior. And the quality of a piece of equipment didn’t mean anything if it simply wouldn’t work.

Inventions involving materials not imbued with will, like auxiliary brains, were fine. As a result, though Sol remained ineffective as a fighter, the sky was the limit when it came to amplifying his ability to affect fights from the back.

The amount of processing power needed to collect all the information feeding in from Player and analyze, share, and act on it—which included maintaining the all-directional immersive display inside the airship—greatly surpassed what Sol’s brain could manage. Regardless of how many levels he had, he was still physically a human. But that was where a pseudo-biocomputer could help. Though most of it was out of sight, it made up seventy percent of the technomagical function of this airship. It was constantly tapped into his mind and, upon obtaining permission from his subconscious, making full use of his Player abilities.

And just now, the biocomputer noticed the change in Country Eater. Upon reaching maximum luminosity and gaining directionality, the light emanating from its core was starting to draw out symbols and patterns. The slime was using mana to strengthen the energy it had absorbed from Uranos’s particle beam and preparing to shoot it back out as an even more powerful attack.

A warning message began flashing insistently on the screens in front of everyone. This meant there was an imminent attack that could break through the ship’s defenses and that, despite the ship’s high mobility, evasion was no longer possible.

However, the All Dragon did not summon an Astral, nor did the Elven Queen or the Demon Lord seem to take any action. The person who reacted to the clamorous message and alarm and flew into a flurry of action was actually Reen. Perched in the middle of machinery only slightly less impressive than Sol’s, she started jabbing and dragging the nine glowing displays around her helmet that she had in addition to the large ones she had in common with the other girls. All nine showed Country Eater from a different location, such that together they provided a feed of the slime from all angles.

This was a defensive measure that Gawain had suggested when outfitting the airship. The idea was to co-opt Reen’s defense-focused Numbers armament with the vessel’s system, thereby giving it nine extra shields with complete freedom of movement, each of which could deflect much more powerful attacks.

On each screen was the name of the corresponding shield. Based on knowledge that Sol had shared with her from Biblioteca, she had named them Heaven One, Lake Two, Flame Three, Thunder Four, Wind Five, Water Six, Mountain Seven, Earth Eight, and finally, Axis Nine. All of them usually moved with full autonomy, with Reen being able to take control at any moment. In emergencies, she actually had to do so, or else the shields would default to focusing on protecting her alone.

“Sorry for the trouble, Reen. Think you can handle it?” Sol felt bad about it, but he had purposely created a situation where the feature had to be used because he wanted to see it. Now that it was happening, though, he was wholeheartedly placing his trust in her.

“Of course!” Reen replied. She radiated happiness at being relied on but had to promptly return to focusing on the task at hand. She was practically controlling nine copies of herself that were zipping around at high speed, which did not leave the mental bandwidth for much else.

The light that filled Country Eater’s colossal form intensified further. The surrounding floating islands had even less defensive capabilities than Sol’s airship, so Reen positioned Heaven One through Earth Eight such that they could intercept attacks aimed at them. This left the monster with the obvious choice of targeting the airship directly above its head.

“Axis Nine!”

The shield kept in reserve for the sole purpose of protecting the airship, Axis Nine, the largest and sturdiest of Reen’s shields, instantaneously deployed a barrier exactly large enough to cover the vessel. As the torrent of light was much larger in diameter than the airship, it looked to the members of the ruling class on the surrounding islands that it had been swallowed up and erased in its entirety. The ship was, in fact, completely safe, like a bubble riding a stream. Sol was even thrilled at the experience of watching pure destruction surging past on the monitors from inside the bridge. He never felt for a moment that he was in danger.

When the stream, which reached the stratosphere, shrank until it was only the size of the ship, Country Eater finally understood that it wasn’t achieving anything and abruptly redirected its attack at the floating islands as if slashing with a sword. However, the eight shields on standby reacted with godlike speed and perfect coordination. Before long, the light simply fizzled out. This counterattack that had dealt such catastrophic destruction—partly because the Church had refused to accept that its trump card was ineffective and used it a few times—had been utterly shut down. There was nothing that Country Eater could do, as its repertoire mainly consisted of either absorbing opponents with its enormous body or absorbing and returning their attacks.

The exchange that had just taken place was a very convincing demonstration of what a privilege it was to live in the sky. Whereas those on the ground could only look up at the looming threat, nothing could touch those in the sky where the All Dragon reigned supreme.

“Thanks, Reen.” Sol looked down at the helpless wriggling mass below. “Well, since the experiment is over, let’s unseal Country Eater’s taboo territory and get the interisland teleportation network up and running.”

The quietly falling rain and the clouds that had covered the sky all the way to the horizon were instantaneously wiped away by a streak of magical light. This did not mean the airship and floating islands were exposed to sunlight, however. Rather, it was even darker than before. The sight of Garlaige’s entertainment district as seen from its city walls at night, a rugged surface dotted by lights of varying intensity, color, and frequency, seemed to have taken the place of the clouds, hanging upside down in the sky. Of course, this was no mirage but the underside of a massive landmass. Under Sol’s instruction, the Floating Continent had been teleported over, with its sudden appearance dispersing all the rain clouds in one big blast. When something the size of a whole continent appeared so abruptly—as opposed to slowly moving there—the aftereffects of both the displacement of mass and the sheer amount of mana being expended had a strong tendency to very conspicuously alter the weather.

“Right, of course that happens.” Sol chuckled a little, then began deftly manipulating the small display window he had brought up. Right away, the auxiliary brain components surrounding his seat blinked furiously and kicked into top gear.

Sunlight fell onto his airship despite it being positioned under the Floating Continent. Not something fancy and artsy like crepuscular rays, but a full-on sunbeam from directly overhead. A quick look revealed that this was because the continent blocking the sun was disappearing from the center.

The Floating Continent wasn’t falling apart, nor was it being teleported away. Like the surrounding display inside the bridge of his airship, Sol was applying optical camouflage to the bottom of the entire landmass. It was beyond even his power to hide the entire thing in the blink of an eye, so the effect was starting in the middle and radiating outward. It picked up speed the farther it went until there was nothing left in view but a perfectly cloudless blue sky.

Those on the floating islands still had their heads craned up and their jaws on the floor. The sight before them, with Country Eater fully illuminated by a seemingly open sky, encircled by numerous floating islands surrounding an airship packed with futuristic technology, set their hearts racing. They never could have imagined any of this mere months ago, yet here they were, waiting with bated breath—for the defeat of Country Eater, the boss that the world feared was a hair trigger away from annihilating the human race. For the gong that would mark the start of Sol Prosperitas, the age of great expansion when everyone would be fully rewarded for all the effort they had put in, knowing for certain that tomorrow would be better than today.

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Country Eater, which lived to drain the vitality of others, shook itself with great displeasure amid the display of the boundless vitality of summer in the gleaming water droplets clinging to the recently watered vegetation underneath the cloudless blue sky. It was a stark reminder—coming from weak, puny humans, no less—that the skies were forever beyond the reach of this tyrant who had sat in domination of its territory for over two centuries, and the monster took great offense to that. Arrogant as it was, it never thought for a moment that it would soon be erased. As a human would, this monster had gained the mistaken assumption from living unchallenged for so long that its invincibility would never come to an end. This was not a delusion, but overconfidence based on actual experience, and living beings that could rise above this pitfall were few and far between.

Instead of teleporting, the four tasked with correcting the monster’s conceit intentionally flew out of the vessel floating overhead. It was Reen, Julia, Frederica, and Eliza, decked out in their Numbers armaments and traveling at great speed thanks to a catapult. Tracing glowing trails in the air in the colors of their magical signatures—dark blue, pink, white, and crimson, respectively—they took up position around the giant slime.

“Ready? Begin.”

In the giant displays visible not only from the floating islands but also every major city across the continent, Sol, standing before his captain’s chair, dramatically thrust out a hand in command, a gesture that came across as composed and confident in light of everything he had achieved so far.

The presence of the All Dragon, the Elven Queen, and Little Alshunna in the frame lent much reassurance to those watching. While the common people simply gushed about how adorable they were, those actually present on the floating islands who were more than familiar with their overwhelming strength felt like they could relax in the knowledge that, on the off chance Sol’s Girls failed, his monsters were still at hand. Being here in person had sounded like a huge risk—one they had decided was worth taking to earn Sol’s trust—but was turning out to be the right choice after all.

Reen made the first move. She retrieved all her shields, then had them float above her shoulders in pairs such that they looked like four giant arms, with two on each side. The largest shield, Axis Nine, was deployed above her head like an oversized and oddly shaped halo. This was the new form she had developed after Gawain’s upgrades.

What Reen actually used, however, wasn’t any of the shields that her armament was known for. Instead, her right hand drew a greatsword that seemed far too big for a tank to wield. This weapon, also made by Gawain, had been her closest partner since her Black Tiger days and was seen as just as much a part of her image. Every adventurer from Garlaige knew of it. For its ability to easily cut through carapace and skin that could normally shrug off slashes and even skills unique to God-given talents, it had been given the name Butter Knife.

The main duty of a tank was to protect the rest of one’s party from attacks, but Reen dealt far more damage than even the average attacker. This was largely thanks to the support that Sol provided through Player, but most people chalked it up to the greatsword that she wielded with one hand, especially because of how powerful she looked brandishing it with one hand. The distinctive appearance of the weapon had a lot to do with it too. Right after being unsheathed, it was long, but not exactly a greatsword. When Reen poured mana into it, however, it gained a double-edged blade that gave the weapon the silhouette of a boorish greatsword but was semitransparent and glowed resplendently with her signature deep-blue color.

Just now, Reen had drawn it and deployed its blade. The adventurers and common folk riveted by the livestream erupted into cheers upon seeing the famous weapon of the Iron Wall they knew so well up close. Unbeknownst to them, she was actually holding a practically different weapon from her time in Black Tiger. Despite looking the same, every part had been remade with far more powerful materials, including the magic stone that served as its core. There had been no choice, not when going up against the likes of Country Eater. An ordinary sword, even if high enough in quality to hurt a normal territory boss, was little more than a letter opener against a taboo territory boss. This was Gawain’s answer to the new class of opponents she was now facing.

Using both hands, Reen held Butter Knife in front of her in a combat stance. “Requesting limiter release for unique armament Butter Knife!”

A pop-up appeared on one of Sol’s screens. Having no reason to turn down the request, he pressed “Yes.”

A robotic voice coming from Butter Knife conveyed the decision. “Approved.”

“Commencing overdrive!”

Ancient text glowing in vivid blue light popped up, surrounding the point where the mana blade emanated from as the cross guard expanded. Magic formations in the shape of rings manifested around Reen’s hands and piled up in front of her with increasingly wider diameters, with the mana blade chasing them and swelling up accordingly. In the blink of an eye, Reen held in her hands a sword of light large enough to cut Country Eater in half. It was so much bigger than her that she was practically invisible next to it.

She swiftly raised the blade high overhead, nearly grazing Sol’s airship, then brought it down with all the strength she could muster.

“Released Armament Secret Art: Space Sundering!”

As Reen shouted out the name of the move, her gigantic blade fell like a meteor, tearing through the very space it passed through. All slimes had a high resistance to physical attacks, so the general strategy against them was to use magic. Country Eater, however, had also grown extremely proficient at absorbing attacks converted from mana and reflecting them, as demonstrated earlier with Divine Punishment. The solution that Reen had come up with, then, was to destroy the fabric of space itself. Before the secret art she had just used, all efforts at defense or evasion were utterly meaningless.

And yet, even such an attack was no exception to the absolute rule that was the HP barrier. Although Reen’s attack could tear through Country Eater’s protections and body like paper, it would remain entirely unhurt until she zeroed out its HP. Of course, in carrying out its purpose, the barrier’s durability was plummeting at an alarming rate. White sparks indicating that it was being ground down by the enormous world-splitting blade sprayed everywhere as the screech of torn metal pierced the air.

“Reen, we were right!”

“Whew, glad to hear it.”

Through Player, Sol could tell that Country Eater’s colossal HP barrier was going down so fast it was skipping digits. He and Reen had already known this would happen, so what he was confirming to her now was that her attack, Space Sundering, would indeed last long enough to drain the barrier.

Keeping Space Sundering going was consuming a staggering amount of Reen’s inner mana and the outer mana that Type Kuzuryuu was absorbing at maximum efficiency. However, this wasn’t a problem. Sol could now cast MP Recovery with practically no limit, thereby making it so that those fighting on his side never had to worry about running out of mana again. Unfortunately, just as someone couldn’t stay awake forever by continuously being healed, weapons also could not withstand channeling mana forever.

“Inverted Domain is up,” said Julia, cutting into the conversation as she zoomed about everywhere.

The Numbers armament made for her as the former healer of Black Tiger was Number Eight: Type Phoenix. Made from the body of Phoenix, one of the taboo territory bosses of Gio Nest, it gave her abilities that were centered on buffing allies and debuffing enemies. The design featured twelve massive monoliths hanging above her head in a circle, a pair of transparent goggles, and nothing else over her foundation suit other than flames that appeared to be combined with her form. This gave her a look more reminiscent of an ifrit than a phoenix—plus a thousand points in allure, if it was a stat.

As a healer, she used to avoid direct participation in combat and stayed at the back with Sol, but the mobility offered by the Numbers armaments rendered the divvying up of positions moot. Even a set not specced for agility could fly so fast that no monster bound to the surface could keep up.

Understanding that there would be no need for her healing abilities during this fight, Julia had instead been filling the battlefield with countless feathers produced by her monoliths that would continue burning as long as she had mana. Within what she called Inverted Domain, not only were her allies buffed, but enemies could not restore their HP barriers or heal themselves. This applied to auto-regeneration too. If the enemy was significantly weaker than her, everything that was supposed to heal them would actually harm them instead, thereby allowing Julia to heal them to death.

No matter how much of Country Eater’s massive inner mana reserves remained or how incredibly efficient its organas were at taking in outer mana, it no longer had any means of recovery. This meant it was only a matter of time before it was ground down to nothing.

“It’s still as unexciting as ever, though.” Julia chuckled wryly.

Frederica had a conflicted look on her face. “Lady Julia, please do not forget that depending on how the situation develops, Eliza and I would have simply made an appearance for nothing.”

Purely as an instinctive reaction to hearing her name, Eliza squeaked, “I-I’m really nervous!” She was too tense to follow the conversation properly.

If nothing else happened, Reen’s sword would eventually kill Country Eater. It could be said that Julia had contributed by stopping the monster from healing itself, but the fight would be over without Frederica or Eliza having done anything of note. That would just be sad, especially considering how cool they had looked flying out. There was a part of Eliza that wished for that, but she was telling herself that she had to do better to become worthy of serving Sol. She focused on pushing down her nerves and readying herself for what was coming.

One of the tests that Sol wanted to get around to conducting was whether it was possible to harvest materials from a monster that had been completely obliterated, but the world’s most powerful taboo territory boss was hardly the right target for it. To make absolutely sure that he got everything it would drop, he had proposed the following: Reen, using her big move, would get rid of Country Eater’s HP barrier; Frederica, who was best at dealing physical damage, would bring down its health; and lastly, Eliza, who specialized in attacking with precision, would help finish the monster off.

“Sol, I’m nearly at my limit!”

“Don’t worry! The barrier will fall first!”

Right after this exchange, the pure-white light indicative of an HP barrier resisting damage died out. The sound of glass shattering rang out as Butter Knife’s enormous blade went through Country Eater like...well, a hot knife through butter.

Without its HP, the monster had no means of resisting Space Sundering. Reen’s sword flashed multiple times a second, slicing off a massive chunk of the slime’s body each time. Unfortunately, she failed to find its core, much less destroy it. Eventually, Butter Knife reached its overdrive limit and blinked out. Though it wasn’t completely broken, there would be no summoning its blade again until it was repaired.

As a result, Country Eater was still alive and kicking. The four-fifths that remained unleashed a roar—it was hard to tell where from—filled with rage and pain.

“Sorry, everyone!” Reen said, apologizing for failing to finish off the monster.

Right away, Sol said, “No. You did great. We expected this.” At the same time, he refilled Reen’s almost depleted inner mana.

“My turn!” said Frederica.

“Please and thank you!” Sol answered.

As Frederica shifted into action according to the plan, Reen fell back to play defense. She sent six shields, including Axis Nine, to protect Frederica and assigned the remaining three to Julia, Eliza, and herself.

Ever since the start of the engagement, Luna had taken over the duty of protecting the surrounding floating islands, the airship, and the invisible but still present Floating Continent. Honestly, Sol would have preferred having Axis Nine still visibly protecting his airship, but considering what Frederica was planning on doing, he understood Reen wanting to focus entirely on the fight. It would take a lot more than a few dings to significantly damage the Numbers armaments, much less take them out of commission, but this was a demonstration, not a battle to the death. They wanted a crushing victory.

“Requesting restraining program release for unique armament Number Five: Type Hecatoncheires!”

“Approved.”

“Commencing overdrive!”

The sequence of events was the same with Frederica as it had been with Reen. A decision had been made that the most powerful of Gawain’s creations, from the Numbers armaments to even Reen’s personal weapon, Butter Knife, were not to be used without Sol’s express permission. Sol couldn’t really see the point in setting up this extra hoop to leap through when he would never actually say no, but all the girls, Steve, and even Gawain had insisted, so he’d caved.

The intention wasn’t so much to concentrate all authority with Sol as it was to show consideration toward the monsters serving him. They needed his permission and the support of Player to unleash their full strength, and though the scale of the comparison was drastically different, it seemed inappropriate that the girls did not.

The All Dragon, Sol’s greatest fighter, loved it when her liege was shown respect. This could be seen in her reaction to the attitude displayed by the other people in the room when he had dropped by Emelia’s royal palace to pick up Reen, Julia, and Frederica the other day, as well as how pleased she was with the system of bells that announced his arrival. It didn’t take a genius to deduce the turn her mood would take when she felt someone was taking him lightly. She wasn’t so unreasonable as to actually take issue with the matter of permissions, but it never hurt to be safe.

Unlike the common citizenry, those of the ruling class were quick to pick up on such subtleties. The frustratingly elaborate etiquette they had to follow was, at the end of the day, for the purpose of showing respect to their peers and, most importantly, their liege...though there was no denying some rules were just weird traditions overstaying bygone eras.

With the boost from Sol’s biocomputer, Player was powerful enough to keep tabs on and control all the magical weapons being lent out beyond Emelia. Setting up a system where usage of these weapons all had to be run by him would make it easy to avoid a lot of misuse. Of course, there was no meaning in weapons that couldn’t be used in emergencies, so some prudence would be needed in deciding how much to regulate everything. At the moment, there were up to three levels of the restraining program. Sol had released all of them for Number Five, allowing completely unfettered usage.

The arms that Frederica had used up before as warheads had been replaced using the mountain of materials Sol had harvested from the battle against the Floating Continent. In fact, those materials, and therefore the arms that Gawain had made from them, were so much higher in quality that the existing arms were now considered consumables. Frederica wanted to get rid of them, though they were still powerful enough to erase half the continent if fired all at once.

“Transforming into overdrive form! Summoning all arms. Assuming Type 100 Mode!”

Since the base of her Numbers armament was Hecatoncheires, she could only summon a maximum of a hundred arms at a time. Regardless of how many extras she possessed, there was no getting around this limit, as it would go against the nature of the monster the armament was derived from. If she really wanted the ability to summon more, she could only hold out hope that there would be a monster with, say, a thousand hands deep inside a dungeon or at the top of the Tower.

For now, the ninety-eight magic formations appearing behind her were more than enough to carry out the task at hand. The sight of giant mechanical arms coming through them was a spectacle. All of them were linked to her mind, such that she could unleash ninety-nine extra punches by throwing a single one. The burst damage that would inflict was insane.

During the Oratorio Tangram, she had made the surprising discovery that Entangled True Strike, an upgraded Pugilist skill, could be applied to her arms. She had used it to pound seven man-made angels into the ground with ninety-one strikes delivered in a split second.

This time, she was going to use something even more powerful.

While Frederica concentrated on her summoning, the numerous smaller magic cores inside Country Eater were drawing in a torrent of mana, giving it the ability to throw all manner of spells at its four opponents in hopes of shooting them down. Reen was doing a wonderful job of fending off the entire barrage, so Frederica made no effort at all to evade them. Instead, as flashes and explosions went off around her in a chaotic mess, she assumed a distinctly un-Pugilist-like pose. While Entangled True Strike had made her look like someone about to throw a punch, she now clasped her hands together before her chest with her fingers laced as if she was praying or making a hand sign. A symbol glowed on her forehead with white light as she became drenched in sweat despite not moving. Even though she had obtained a superhuman body, the special move she was attempting was clearly placing a huge mental and physical burden on her.

“Deployment of Type 100 Mode complete. Here I go!” Frederica’s tightly clenched eyes flew open. “Ceremonial Demonstration: Hundred Strikes!”

Magical light positively exploded from Frederica’s body, instantaneously evaporating all the sweat on her, as all one hundred of her arms sped toward Country Eater. Using every Pugilist skill in her repertoire, they responded to Country Eater’s various attacks and spells in the most optimal way. They were not moving automatically; each and every one was being controlled by Frederica as she pushed Thought Acceleration and Parallel Thought to their limits. Though she herself remained immobile in the air, the recoil from all the arms was feeding back at her.

Having lost its HP barrier, Country Eater was entirely defenseless before this battery of strikes. Its body was gouged, pierced, squashed, and scattered all over. And yet, it was far from dying. It would be able to slowly gather itself back up as long as its core, which was as small as that of normal slimes and could be freely moved about inside the monster’s gargantuan body, remained unharmed. If left alone, all that Frederica’s fancy moves would achieve was to make the monster a little smaller—something that it could reverse given enough time.

Of course, it wasn’t going to be left alone. That would be just silly. The best strategy against such a troublesome opponent, as the All Dragon had been all too happy to propose while proudly puffing out her chest, was to erase its entire body all at once. Reen’s attack with Butter Knife had been an attempt at this, but since it hadn’t worked out, the girls were going with the next best strategy, the one that Sol had come up with. This had four steps: Reen would destroy the monster’s HP barrier, Julia would make sure it didn’t restore the barrier and couldn’t heal itself, then Frederica would smash apart its body with Eliza’s help.

Eliza’s Numbers armament was Number Seven: Type Atlach-Nacha. It gave her eight massive armored legs, each topped by a floating orb. Eliza herself floated in the middle, covered in thin, formfitting armor with cracks where light from her crimson foundation suit shone through. The armor constantly had camouflage active, making it look like she was just her imposing head module and a mass of glowing red lines.

Her role in this fight was to hold down the parts of Country Eater that Frederica was scattering around using the Abyss Spider threads that her armament could generate, thus preventing them from rejoining the main body. Additionally, as her senses were linked to the spiderweb she had spread everywhere, she was to locate the slime’s normally impossible-to-find core. Unlike Reen and Frederica, she did not have to push her armament into overdrive. It cost a lot of mana to keep her countless threads on the battlefield, but that wasn’t a problem thanks to Sol.

Working in tandem with Frederica, they quickly and steadily whittled down Country Eater’s body. Knowing that Frederica was too focused to talk, Eliza also sent Type Hecatoncheires notifications of globs with significantly more mana which therefore seemed likely to contain a magic core. That way, she would know to smash them.

This left Country Eater truly on the ropes. It had no HP barrier, could not heal, could not rebuild its body, and its magic cores were being destroyed one after another, while the spells it was firing using what little mana the remaining cores could scrounge up were all being blocked by the large shields zipping around. It had basically become a large punching bag. Before long, it was reduced to the size of a normal territory boss, then its true core was finally trapped and shattered. The death cry of the symbol of death that had reigned over the land of seven countries for two centuries was so weak that it failed to reach the floating islands watching from on high.

The moment the slime’s core was destroyed, all the parts that Eliza had been holding down melted away. Though different in scale, the sight was exactly the same as when adventurers finished off normal slimes, the weakest of all monsters. What was different was the staggering amount of experience and the impressive loot that Sol’s group received—and, most of all, the elation that exploded within them and the shock it gave the entire world. The people watching from the display windows across the continent, no matter their age, gender, and social status, erupted into cheers as one.

Those on the floating islands cheered too, but their eyes also glittered with appetite. There was no doubting that this world now belonged to Sol, and how much one could receive from him was the new metric of power. It didn’t matter what form that took. It could be authority, money, plain physical might, or even sex. None could stand against the man who could treat Country Eater like a pushover.

The competition for his favor was now beginning in earnest. How he cut up the unsealed territory of the seven former nations and whom he gave the pieces to would very clearly determine winners and losers.

“Good work, you four,” said Sol through the stream. “Now that it’s clear that monster territories are no longer a threat to us humans, our next focus is on redeveloping the land that Country Eater kept from us for the past two hundred years. We will need help from people all across the continent, so I hope they lend us their support.”

He sounded so calm, it seemed like he had no idea he was being heard by the entire continent, but his words indicated otherwise. Despite what he said, monster territories were still a threat that normal humans had no way of dealing with. No one else could have defeated Country Eater like his party had. In other words, he was demanding in a roundabout manner that people give him everything they could if they wanted a share of what only he and his group could provide. At the very least, how he would divide up the west would very likely depend on people’s contributions.

At the end of the day, Sol’s goal was to retrieve the All Dragon’s organas. For those living in this world, however, the scraps that fell from his table during this undertaking would literally define their lives.

Confirming that the broadcast was over, Sol said in his normal voice, “Good work, everyone. You did great out there.” His attitude from before had been an act meant to be seen as his normal self, but both times, the first thing he voiced was appreciation for his companions. Reen and the others were happy about the recognition while thinking, That’s so like him in their own way.

“Now, we are finally at the starting line.”

This applied both to the quest to retrieve Luna’s organas and the effort to use Sol’s overwhelming strength not only to protect humanity but to lead them to greater abundance. As he said, they were just getting started.

Chapter 2: Ruler’s Wisdom

“Did that truly happen?” murmured Rosalind Magica Crystania from her hastily built room on one of the floating islands in the sky above the taboo territory that had, until recently, been ruled by Country Eater.

This young girl was a descendant of the royal family of the Holy Kingdom of Crystania, a world power that had been obliterated by the slime boss. She was pale enough to almost pass for an elf and so young that there was an innocent and transient quality to her great beauty. Her eyes were pale silver like all others from her bloodline, and her long, glossy hair was ashy silver. A jet-black circlet of simple design crowned her head, but the crimson flashes that periodically ran through it suggested that it was, in fact, a magic item. Her somewhat stiff and old-timey manner of speaking was at odds with her high-pitched, prepubescent voice, but for some reason, the discrepancy did not invoke discomfort in those who heard her.

The young man standing at attention next to Rosalind’s chair with a ramrod-straight back, though failing to hide his shock, managed to say, “I believe so. I will verify and ensure word gets around.”

He was not a direct descendant of the family but still shared Rosalind’s eye and hair color. His skin, however, though still rather fair, was more within the natural range of human complexion.

Despite holding the position of prime minister and right hand to his queen, he was having trouble gathering himself. He could hardly be blamed, though. He had just watched four teenage girls kill Country Eater, the taboo territory boss that had dominated the land of his ancestors for two hundred long years. No doubt similar conversations were happening on all the other floating islands between the state heads and their subordinates. The death of Country Eater and the unsealing of the great western expanse were both century-defining events.

If the deed had been committed by the monsters who answered to Sol, the world’s new absolute ruler, everyone would have thought, Of course they’re that powerful. Humans were incorrigible creatures who could get used to pretty much anything rather quickly. But no, it had been “Sol’s Girls,” as they were called. Humans. Humans had struck down the monster that humanity had feared so much that it had forbidden itself from fighting it.

Gender did not affect talent distribution much, and since God-given talents were what defined a person’s ability in battle, pure physical differences were practically meaningless. As a matter of fact, two of the girls in question were former adventurers. As a healer and a tank, they had been with Sol in Black Tiger, a party that had been approved for promotion to Rank A. However, though Rank A and B adventurers weren’t exactly a dime a dozen, there were still a number of them around. Despite being at the top of the hierarchy among adventurers, they most certainly did not possess the strength to kill bosses dominating territories that humanity had deemed off-limits.

At least, they weren’t supposed to. But that assumption had just been disproven in a way that was plain to every single person alive. Reen and Julia were one thing—they were veterans all adventurers had at least heard of. Frederica and Eliza, to everyone’s understanding, had had no ability to fight until a few months ago.

“What we should fear is not annihilation. Being seen as useless and abandoned—that is the true nightmare.”

All countries were already doing their utmost to avoid being erased. Knowing that they would be wiped off the map in the literal sense if they earned Sol’s ire, everyone had bent the knee to him at the Continental Conference and sworn to abide by the newly established continental law.

It was true that during the restoration of the Floating Continent, Sol had protected humanity from a catastrophe that would have been even more destructive than Country Eater’s rampage two centuries ago. However, the blessings that could come from his hand were not merely lives of safety and abundance, these worldly benefits that everyone patted themselves on the back for seeing. No, it was so much more.

Though wildly different in social status, two girls this world had once grouped together as “those whom God did not smile upon” for being equally useless in a fight had been lifted high above the rest of humanity, arguably to where they deserved to be seen as kin to the monsters from legend. It was a miracle, but as Sol had shown by going to the trouble of broadcasting the Country Eater fight to the entire continent, this miracle was something that anyone could undergo should he wish it.

Any gift bestowed by the absolute ruler, be it armis magicka or talent, would surely be managed closely. And yet, what was on offer was the possibility of being more than just someone who could only wait for scraps, someone who could brandish the power of one of the monsters’ kinsmen. Avoiding being killed was the lowest bar to clear. Being too wise and obedient, however, ran the risk of being seen as deadweight and discarded. Instead, people had to be active in finding something they could do and show that they were contributing to the world’s development. Everyone now fully understood that the way to become someone who mattered to the truly powerful was to become a useful weakling. And this was a race, as being overlooked by the strong was as much a death sentence in this world as actually being targeted by Sol’s baleful glare.

“On the other hand, it is also for the sake of huge profits for our country.”

“That, too, is true but can be set aside for a while. As long as we are not discarded, what is already guaranteed to come in will be more than enough.”

Rosalind understood her right-hand man’s impatience. However, in her calm analysis, she figured acting on it was the worst possible reaction.

“Will we not be overtaken by the other nations, then?”

“We might. However, faster is not necessarily better in this case.”

Sol’s group almost certainly knew exactly what everyone was thinking after seeing the defeat of Country Eater. It wouldn’t be surprising if there was some magical device embedded in all the floating islands that allowed him to directly listen in on all their conversations. The technology that he had access to was already that far ahead.

Put simply, the world was completely dancing to Sol’s tune. Regardless of whether he intended it to be so, today was a test for the countries. The royal family of Emelia who served him as the brains of the Libertadores would surely be grading everyone on how useful they would be to him based on their reactions.

Rosalind thought Frederica, who had solidified her position as Sol’s first secretary, an extremely capable person. However, what Rosalind was impressed by wasn’t Frederica’s political thinking or skill, but the way she had managed to insert herself into the heart of Sol, a walking example of someone who came with a “handle with care” label, and obtain his complete trust. Reen and Julia were easy to understand, being his childhood friends. Eliza was too, on some level, as she was a young girl originally in a deplorable situation whom he had saved himself. Princess of a major nation, however, was a title that could very easily have worked to Frederica’s disadvantage, but she had pulled it off. It was an incredible achievement, even if Sol had been inclined to like someone with a pragmatic outlook like hers from the start.

There was no need to rush to an answer for a test designed by such a brilliant mind. Coming first did not mean winning here, which meant there was time to first observe the fate of those who rushed to act. Taking too long would result in points docked, of course, but shouldn’t be an outright fail. Conversely, if speed was the answer, there would be little point in being anything other than number one, which would require forming a response now.

The way Rosalind saw it, what their examiner wanted most was for countries to realize that sticking to their own agenda was a bad move and to do their best to instead understand what Sol wanted. And if so, Rosalind had an ace in hand. Sol’s group already had the biggest stick in the world and the ability to obtain as much wealth as they wanted. These things were therefore not much use in negotiations with his side, even though they were what defined a country as weak or strong. Rosalind knew she had a card that was highly effective in this very situation.

“But this is an opportunity to regain a homeland the likes of which we will never see again!” the prime minister argued. The possibility of regaining the home his ancestors had lost two hundred years ago was blinding him somewhat. All the more so because of how abruptly it had gone from being absolutely impossible to seeming almost in reach.

“I hear you. However, the claim we once had to this land and lost means nothing to those alive today.”

The Crystanians had lost their country because they were weak, and they had played no part in its reclamation. No one was going to respect their two-hundred-year-old claim. Insisting and making nuisances of themselves would only worsen their standing. Though the two here called themselves “queen” and “prime minister,” their people were just a small tribe living humble lives in a self-governing domain within Svendbania, a mid-sized kingdom. Rosalind had been extremely surprised when Sol’s camp had given her an island as though it were a matter of course. Not more surprised than Svendbania, certainly, which had decided in its role as suzerain not to ask for a seat for Crystania at the Continental Conference after the Oratorio Tangram, but still.

In any case, there was no doubt in Rosalind’s mind that, given that Crystania was so weak it could not stand on its own and had to rely on another nation’s generosity, demanding rights to land freed by someone else would be a terrible move.

“But that’s all the more reason! We should be dedicating ourselves to earning the favor of the person who can grant our dearest wish with a word!”

The prime minister understood Rosalind’s concern but was convinced that Sol could provide a quick way out. Naturally, he had been born and raised in the self-governing domain and had no memories of his supposed homeland. However, his liege did, and that was reason enough for him to wish for the restoration of Atriesta, the ruins that used to be Crystania’s capital.

If Sol and Emelia would simply grant them this wish, the prime minister didn’t mind handing over all profits and authority to them—basically, becoming a puppet state. As long as the Crystanians were allowed to live peaceful, reasonably well-to-do lives on the land of their forefathers, they could do without regaining the power to shape the rest of the world. They had no cards to negotiate with, but all it would take was for Sol to acknowledge their shaky historic claim. Surely this arrangement would be far more beneficial to him, as opposed to dividing up the territory among Panhuman League members.

“Hey, now, keep your shirt on. I, too, am willing to do whatever it takes, even if I have to offer myself. My conviction to retake our homeland is as strong as yours.”

Rosalind could tell the prime minister’s agitation was on her behalf. Because of it, however, he was getting tunnel vision and failing to realize that profit was no longer something that Sol’s group cared about. The outlandish comment she made was an attempt to snap him out of it while reassuring him that she shared his concern.

Catching on to his liege’s consideration, the man visibly relaxed his shoulders and, with a teasing grin, said in his usual casual tone, “Would offering yourself be of any actual help?”

The queen he served possessed boundless potential but was still young, and all her beauty would do her no good if she wasn’t a viable candidate. On the other hand, Sol already had plenty of beauties at his side, plus more that every country, large and small, were searching high and low for. He was obviously going to say Come back after she grows some more if presented with the mere promise of a beauty. He wouldn’t want to be seen as someone grooming a young girl either, even if no one would call him out on it to his face.

“How rude!” Rosalind blushed in a rare display, then calmed down just as abruptly and patted herself all over. “Though you’re right, I do need a few more years.”

When Rosalind mentioned offering herself, she had meant something completely different. The prime minister had known that and purposely interpreted it the way he had. Then again, it wasn’t entirely out of the question for the future. In fact, it would be a development welcomed by both of them. Such was the nature of the relationship between these two.

“At least ten,” the prime minister agreed. “I apologize for panicking. First, I will review our own laws and scour them for discrepancies with the continental law. Then I will identify every single falsely charged victim and offender we’ve been purposely turning a blind eye to.” After passing the rather harsh judgment that “a few more years” still wouldn’t be enough, the man had intentionally voiced out loud what he could actually do now.

Rosalind nodded. “That will do. You don’t have to hold back anymore. But keep it at just investigating. We will then bring the cases to the Panhuman League and let them decide how to handle them.”

“As you wish.”

Present-day Crystania was a self-governing domain, but with a population of over ten thousand, it was far from a monolithic entity. Like all other societies, it had some people up to no good, some dealt such a bad hand in life they were forced to stain their hands with crime, and so on. Rosalind knew of some in the upper echelons spurred by greed into becoming complicit in illegal schemes. Many such elements had been left alone if making public enemies of them would harm more than benefit the running of the domain, but it was now time to squeeze out all the pus.

However, cracking down too hard on them might also be a bad move, so it was safest to leave the decision with Sol. The most important thing right now was to avoid him finding Crystania’s government too corrupt to work with and thinking it would be easier to start with a blank slate. Writ large, it was the role of Sol’s close aides to convince him that humanity as a whole was not beyond saving. Rosalind was not all that jealous of Frederica and the Emelian royal family, despite the incredible power they now held. Rather, she was sympathetic to the other princess for the monumental task before her.

“I’m sure every other nation is thinking the same thing, but...whatever can we offer our absolute ruler to convince him to grant our dear wish? I hate to agree with what you said, but you’re right that my current form is rather out of the question.”

Rosalind racked her mind while staring at the receding back of her right-hand man returning to his duties. It didn’t matter how masterful she was at employing her wiles if she was never given an opportunity on account of her youth. The thought of what a difference it would have made if Sol had appeared on the world stage only a little later crossed her mind, but such empty musings were of no help.

“I suppose I should start by composing a letter sincerely thanking him for freeing our homeland from the clutches of our sworn enemy.”

That was something she could do, and it was as good a place to start as any. It wouldn’t be a lie. She didn’t deny that there were many angles she was shooting for, but there was a part of her that was purely thankful. Two centuries ago, Country Eater had killed off the majority of her people and completely wiped out the legacy they had built. Taking revenge on it had been a dear wish in and of itself. A wish that was now fulfilled.

Rosalind didn’t care that the Crystanians had had no hand in it. As someone who knew the past yet had held on till this day, she genuinely was thankful to him from the bottom of her heart for helping to settle the score.

Never did she imagine in that moment how this course of action would suddenly overturn her entire world.

◇◆◇◆◇

In a single day after Country Eater was killed, everything was all set up for Sol to begin conquering Abyss, one of the Four Great Dungeons, whenever he wanted.

Regardless of how much power he possessed, be it power to make every king bow, power to move the continent, or even power to physically destroy the planet, there were still things that were plain impossible. Completing a base from which he could take on a dungeon within a day was one of those things. Or at least, it should have been.

The entrance to Abyss was in the very heart of Atriesta, the old capital of Crystania, where the royal palace had once stood. That meant it was deep inside a taboo territory that, though now without a boss, was still an extremely dangerous place. The world’s armies did not have the strength to carve a path through the large, terrifying monsters still roaming about here, much less build a base. Even if Sol’s group eliminated all the threats, simply preparing and carrying in supplies would take a long time. Anyone would call the prospect unrealistic, and they would be right.

Now, however, these problems were all in the past. The Floating Continent, various floating islands, normal teleportation magic, and superlong-range teleportation magic that had been thought a mere myth until recently opened possibilities galore when used in conjunction. The new system set up by Sol’s group had completely rewritten how logistics worked.

Three times a day, at set times, the capitals of every country were connected to their respective floating islands through teleportation. In turn, the islands were connected to their country’s special ward on the Floating Continent. In other words, the distance between the massive surface-level continent and the continent in the sky had been shrunk to effectively nothing. The Floating Continent was therefore practically the center of the world, and as it could travel anywhere, there was no need to build a base camp from scratch. It was a simple matter of driving the large landmass to where Sol wanted it.

In fact, he didn’t even have to go to the trouble. A teleportation circle had already been set up right next to Abyss’s entrance, making it possible for him and his group to commute directly to and from the rear palace in Emelia every day.

And yet, Sol had no intention of starting this very day.

◇◆◇◆◇

Despite hovering so high above Atriesta that it did not cast a shadow on the ground, the Floating Continent was still visible to the naked eye, which spoke volumes about its sheer size. It was usually camouflaged for good reason.

Like a scene lifted from a myth, Sol and his entourage descended on an Astral—deliberately not using teleport magic—to where a group was waiting in prostration. At the front was the current leader of the self-governing domain that was all that remained of Crystania in the current day and her retainers, and behind them were the royal family of Svendbania, the suzerain of Crystania, and their ministers.

Given how soon it was since the defeat of Country Eater, serious reconstruction was still a ways off, so one of those royal pavilions that Svendbania was famous for building—complete with a throne—had been hastily set up for this audience.

The first words were said by the girl at the front. “We thank you from the bottom of our hearts for returning our homeland to us.”

Even a generous estimate would put her at under ten years old, and she had a voice that matched her diminutive build, but there was a certain elegance and maturity to her bearing. The nervous adults next to her made her composure all the more pronounced, but it was understandable. The higher someone was up the ladder, the more nerve-racking it was for them to face those even higher.

As always, Sol took the throne with the All Dragon clinging to his right arm, the Elven Queen clutching his left shoulder and floating behind, and Little Alshunna splayed out on his head. This arrangement that was fast becoming a standard formation made for an adorable display, but there wasn’t one person who didn’t know the incredible feats performed by the monsters during the Oratorio Tangram and the rising of the Floating Continent.

Just in case, the Astral remained floating above the pavilion imposingly, ensuring that no one forgot for a moment. To top it off, they were surrounded by Reen, Julia, Frederica, and Eliza, the four who had directly killed Country Eater and were currently humanity’s most powerful fighters.

The delegation was all too aware that committing a faux pas here would mean more than physically losing their heads—their entire country could be wiped out. It was hard not to be nervous with that kind of pressure on their minds. Whether Sol’s group would actually go that far to punish unintentional gaffes was beside the point. The knowledge that they could made it impossible not to feel fear when the power dynamic was so skewed.

It was odd, then, that Rosalind was so much calmer than the adults. Though she was officially the head of her domain, her age suggested that she was still just a figurehead. And she wasn’t calm, not really. The letter of thanks she had sent to Sol’s party had received an immediate reply that requested an in-person audience where the restoration of the Holy Kingdom of Crystania and her position as its leader would be confirmed. That had happened just yesterday.

Rosalind had nearly spat out her tea upon reading the missive. Both Crystania and Svendbania had immediately been thrust into a whirlwind of commotion. Turning Sol down wasn’t an option, and so there they were, welcoming him in the middle of two-centuries-old ruins.

“Lift your face, Queen Rosalind,” said Frederica kindly. “Lord Sol wishes for the restoration of all countries that were once on this land, not only your own.”

This was not Frederica stepping out of line. There was a new policy that only a select number of people were allowed to speak directly to Sol. If he thoughtlessly responded to Rosalind’s expression of gratitude, she could be found in violation of lèse-majesté.

In response to Frederica’s words, the two from Crystania lowered their heads even further. Those from Svendbania farther back felt a cold sweat running down their backs as their minds quickly analyzed the situation.

The first thing to note was that Frederica had called Rosalind “queen.” This confirmed that what she had thanked Sol for—the restoration of Crystania—was already a done deal in his mind and that he had acknowledged—nay, ordered her to lead it. Moreover, in declaring that it was what Sol wanted, Frederica was making the distinction that this decision wasn’t an acceptance of Crystania’s plea. And even if it was, now no one could protest against it. That extended beyond those present to every country and organization that wanted to be part of the Panhuman League. It included Crystania itself too, in fact. It was a present they had no choice but to accept.

“That’s why I had Frederica and the others kill Country Eater, after all.”

This was a lie, but Sol was saying it to prop Frederica up. His real aim was to get access to Abyss, and the restoration of the seven countries was a secondary objective. If Frederica had proposed a plan to carve up the land among the existing countries, he would have said, Sure, sounds good and green-lit it without a second thought. It just so happened, though, that she was a bit of a history buff—Sol felt he was seeing this side of her more and more lately—and she wanted to bring back Crystania, the Kingdom of Magic, the greatest world power that had existed.

Thanks to the thorough education she had received growing up, Frederica knew that the remnants of Crystania still lived and that their leader was still part of the royal bloodline. That was why she had added them to the list of those receiving a floating island and taken steps to ensure that their suzerain, Svendbania, would not get in their way. When Rosalind sent the letter thanking Sol for killing the culprit responsible for driving her people out of their homeland and acknowledging them as a people with their own autonomy, Frederica had immediately gone to Sol to ask for permission, then set up today’s audience. Of course, she hadn’t done all this purely to satisfy her interest in history, but she wouldn’t deny that was a big part of it.

Behind-the-scenes details aside, as Sol had clearly laid out the “why,” anyone intentionally spinning Frederica’s words would constitute defiance against him and was therefore lèse-majesté. Crystania was officially back, and there was no stopping that tide. Given that, Svendbania’s best course of action was to fully accept Rosalind and pursue a reward for giving her people a place to live and protecting them for the past two hundred years. Svendbania hadn’t done it entirely out of the goodness of its heart, but what it had done was way more than anyone else. Even after apologizing and making amends for the less than stellar way it had treated the autonomous domain all this time, the kingdom was still in a pretty good bargaining position. The profits guaranteed to come with developing the world’s largest taboo territory were more than enough to persuade the former suzerain to get off its high horse and immediately readjust its attitude.

“It is all seven, isn’t it, Lord Sol?” Frederica asked.

“I assume you’re actually asking about the one that caused the incident and was erased from history? If there are descendants from that country still alive, yes, give them the same treatment as the other five.”

“As you wish.”

Frederica had a near perfect understanding of what Svendbania wanted. That was why, after talking it over with Sol beforehand, she was now giving them prior information. Namely, the six other countries that had once ruled the region being grouped together meant Crystania was the only one that would receive special treatment. Telling Svendbania first was giving it tacit permission to act on this information with a head start.

Of course, Svendbania would be reaching out through all its contacts to confirm that this was indeed Sol’s will and that going down this path wouldn’t anger him, but the fact that he had gone to the trouble of showing up in person was already a pretty big indicator. In any case, Crystania was the only one of the seven that could still trace its bloodline back to its royal family from the time of the catastrophe, and Svendbania was a large reason for that, tensions between the two notwithstanding. When descendants of the six others came forward and were also restored, Svendbania, through Crystania, would get at least some say in the selection of who would be leading them.

Sol had no intention of making the living descendants of the nameless country take responsibility for what had happened, especially when every last member of their royal family had already been chased down and hanged at the time. Even if, by some miracle, there was someone still with their blood in this day and age, nobody was interested in tracking them down and killing them, much less propping them up as rulers. There was more than enough leeway there for Svendbania to somehow install a puppet of theirs on that throne, and they were getting the impression that Sol would intentionally overlook it.

Regarding Svendbania’s relationship with Crystania going forward, many even in Svendbania thought they should forget ever having been its suzerain. Since Crystania now had Sol on its side, it was only a matter of time before it retook its place among the Five World Powers. Not only would it be powerful, it would also have a direct line to Sol, as it would essentially be his. Svendbania would gain a lot more from being its vassal instead.

Frederica turned to Rosalind with a diplomatic smile. “Our top priority is to rebuild Atriesta. Any documents possessed by your people that could tell us more about your old capital would be greatly appreciated. We want to re-create its original appearance as much as possible, but feel free to express any requests you have.”

Though her smile was near perfect, those familiar with her, including Sol, could tell she was almost bursting with excitement at the opportunity to rebuild the famous City of Magic of yore. She was a surprisingly open book to those close to her. This was something that Sol found endearing in her, but whether it was actually her true self or yet another act was something only she and God knew. All women were a force to reckon with, even those who showed vulnerability.

Sol roused himself from his wandering thoughts and said, as practiced, “It’ll be the Panhuman League’s first project.” He was the one who wanted Atriesta restored, but he was tasking the League, not the Libertadores, with the undertaking.

“We will do our utmost not to disappoint,” said Frederica with a cute little fist pump out of sight.

A pitying look flashed across the faces of Reen, Julia, and Eliza, who understood the full connotations of this exchange. To spell it out, Frederica was telling Svendbania that because they had been informed of what Sol was planning ahead of time, they were to reciprocate with something of equal value. Helping to rebuild Atriesta was not enough. They would have to also contribute to reclaiming the expansive western territory, pave new roads, restore at least a few of the fortresses and villages dotting the land, help set up and maintain Crystania’s governing structure, secure its borders, provide money, human capital, and know-how...and time. To ensure that Sol was not disappointed, Svendbania was going to have to take out every last coin in its coffers, and this was an order. The part where he would just ask another country if Svendbania proved not up to the task was left unsaid but obvious.

Svendbania would be more than happy to do this, of course, though it was but a medium-sized country. No investment had ever guaranteed such a high rate of return. To hold anything back would be to do itself a disservice. The eyes of the king and his ministers, which were still directed at the ground, as the command to “lift your face” earlier had not applied to them, burned with appetite and desire. All of them were profusely thanking the Svendbanian king who had decided to accept the displaced Crystanians and royal family all those years ago.

A few noble families—those who had been overly hostile toward Crystania’s autonomous domain—would have to lose their heads to square the books, but that was a small price to pay. This was a situation that could have ended up with the royal family suffering that fate. They were relieved they had done the bare minimum to avoid being found wanting today.

“May I have permission to speak directly?” asked Rosalind.

Frederica made eye contact with Sol, then said, “Go ahead.”

“Thank you very much. How am I to address you, my lord?”

“Just Sol will do.”

Sol understood the need somewhat but truthfully thought it a little ridiculous that someone talking to him directly was now a whole thing. However, he knew this was how it had been for Frederica before, and he trusted her guidance in maneuvering such customs. Since he had gotten so powerful that anything he said went, no matter how out of line it was, he now felt keenly the need to defer to experts in their respective fields.

While thinking about how fast his status had risen in a short time, he shot a look at Luna, who was doggedly clinging to his right arm. She didn’t really understand the situation but smiled back and gave his arm a squeeze. Everything had begun when he had chosen this adorable being who had been maligned as the Evil Dragon, Lunvemt Nachtfelia. He was close to feeling sentimental when Aina’noa noticed his eye contact with Luna and hugged his neck tighter, as if demanding his attention too. Little Alshunna thankfully remained calm and refrained from further contributing to the sudden chaos, but she did roll her eyes a little.

Pretending to not see all the fondling, Rosalind said, “Please allow me to use ‘Lord Sol,’ then. Lord Sol, we have nothing to offer that can repay the great favor you are showering us with. What do you want from us instead? We are more than willing to do anything within our power.”

There was an unmistakable nervous note in her voice, though she remained calmer than the adults around her and maintained a steady gaze that hinted at far more years than she had. There was no hesitation that indicated she was reciting from a script. She fully understood the value of what Sol had done for Crystania and was convincingly sincere in her stated wish to reciprocate in any way possible. The combination of her sweet, innocent appearance with her feminine wiles had a way of drawing male attention that was distinct from straightforward sexual appeal.

Sol smiled and purposely adopted a teasing tone. “Anything? Really?” His attitude gave no indication of falling for her wiles.

Surprise colored Rosalind’s face, but she quickly recovered. “I don’t go back on my word.”

Come to think of it, Sol was surrounded by beauties, both human and not. A little girl doing something at odds with her appearance wouldn’t be all that effective at sparking his interest, especially when all the legendary monsters, whose human forms happened to be those of young girls, already fit the bill in more significant fashion.

Still grinning, Sol said, “Well, Queen Rosalind, how do you feel about joining the Libertadores, then?”

For the first time during this conversation, Rosalind’s mask slipped. “Um...come again?”

What Sol was offering so casually was a position of absolute power that everyone else in the ruling class would give anything to obtain. At the dawn of his new world order, someone with astronomically good luck and outstanding character might have been able to get in with ease, but now, one could not even dream of it without being able to offer something truly worthy of the honor. Even if Sol wanted to grant it on a whim, those who had earned his trust would surely rush to stop him.

When Rosalind had posed her question, the most she had hoped for was a nomination for Sol’s rear palace or to be named assistant to Frederica in her public duties. She was confident that she could make a convincing enough case for either position, and playing coy had been step one in getting there. Even if she wasn’t acknowledged here and now, the ace up her sleeve would carry her to wherever she wanted. But if it wasn’t hidden in her sleeve...

“Did you...already know?” Rosalind asked with trepidation.

Sol’s expression was a blend of apologetic and impressed. To keep the Svendbanians from hearing, he used the window system to whisper directly into Rosalind’s ear. “I’m sorry. There was a copy of a confidential record from the Crystanian royal family in Biblioteca, and it had an illustration. I only half believed it until seeing it in person. Blue Water is quite the artifact indeed.”

The young Rosalind was so embarrassed that she flushed red all the way to her earlobes and writhed. Part of it was due to the whispering directly into her ear, but to what extent was a secret. Unsurprisingly, her body was more reactive to her than to Blue Water, the royal treasure also called Ruler’s Wisdom.

With effort, those within said, as themselves, “You’re not a very nice person.” For the first time in a long while, they were also so mortified that it showed. The crimson flashes running through the jet-black circlet atop Rosalind’s ashy silver hair was practically a light show.

How much Rosalind’s comment was referring to Sol hiding the fact that he knew about Blue Water versus him whispering into the ear of a very young child was also a secret. Despite being an era-spanning aggregate of wisdom, the “we” residing within Ruler’s Wisdom had no way of knowing that Sol hadn’t the faintest idea how to play such complicated mind games.

Although the Svendbanians could tell Sol and Rosalind were suddenly communicating through a whole other method, they had no clue how it worked, even though it was happening right before their eyes.

◇◆◇◆◇

Blue Water, otherwise known as Ruler’s Wisdom, was a divine artifact and magic tool in the form of a circlet. It was the greatest secret passed down within the royal family of Crystania, revealed only to heirs of the throne and the prime ministers who, in being sworn in, were bound to serve for life. In so many words, when those who inherited it by the right of their blood passed away, the knowledge and wisdom they had accumulated throughout their life was molded into an artificial persona and added to the magic tool, becoming accessible to the next bearer. As a treasure, it was extremely fitting for the royal family of a country that went by the nickname of the Kingdom of Magic.

Those wearing the circlet not only inherited the knowledge and wisdom of all previous bearers but could even tap into a persona’s memories to perfectly reproduce its mannerisms and manner of speech. This was what Rosalind had done just now.

Normally, the personae were there to serve as an adviser through a collective persona. Since the memories of the previous wearers were perfectly preserved, however, the current inheritor could, in effect, bring them back to life. Even without living as them, simply recreating them inside the mind could help significantly in alleviating the pain of losing one’s father or mother, not to mention complete royal duties much faster.

This magic tool was, in a way, a ticket to getting extremely close to living forever, but it wasn’t perfect, especially when the inheritor dug deep into the memories of any particular persona. First, as there had been both men and women who wore the circlet, gender-based differences could become an issue. Secondly, the wearers had all been human, which meant how capable and successful they had been fell all over the spectrum. The collective persona, therefore, preferred to act as one entity in the absence of a specific need. Or perhaps it was the inheritors who wished for it on an unconscious level, but it was sort of a chicken-and-egg problem.

In any case, Sol had found out about it and informed Frederica and the others. In the following discussion, they had come up with a plan to get Rosalind to join the Libertadores. Though they knew it was a bit underhanded, they were curious how she, with the advice of Ruler’s Wisdom, would react. The result, as it turned out, went beyond their expectations.

The contrast between the way Rosalind had started off acting beyond her years and her reaction when the reveal happened won not only Sol but also Frederica’s group to her side. The duality of her nature as both a sage possessing knowledge on par with the All Dragon, Elven Queen, and Demon Lord and an innocent young girl elicited respect and triggered protective instincts in those around her at the same time.

Sol and Frederica didn’t want Rosalind merely because she had Ruler’s Wisdom. Of course, it held great promise in shedding light on the blanked-out history of the millennium since the Kuzuifabra had taken place and all its main players had been sidelined. In fact, it might even be able to provide an accurate account of the events of Kuzuifabra itself. This would be massive, as there was no guarantee that Luna’s mind hadn’t been altered when she was held captive, which meant her memories were not entirely trustworthy.

However, what Sol was most interested in was the possibility that he saw in the magic tool itself. Since he planned on conquering all of the Four Great Dungeons and also had the Tower in his sights, it was safe to say he would be able to get his hands on materials from every monster that lived. Beyond a certain threshold in quality, all magic tools were made from monster materials, and Gawain Baccus, who was now the world’s leading Magic Blacksmith by orders of magnitude, was in Sol’s camp. Gawain had achieved such mastery that it was child’s play for him to figure out what materials were used when looking at a finished magic tool. When combining all these facts, Sol thought it just might be possible to create an even better Ruler’s Wisdom.

Depending on its capabilities, it could become an ark of consciousness. If all the knowledge, experiences, and memories of not only Crystanian royalty but humankind could be archived, humanity’s development and quest for understanding would never again be interrupted. The urge to pass down one’s life work had always been in mankind, be it through oral tradition, art, books, finished products, or any other number of ways. What Sol had in mind would be the perfection of this endeavor.

In fact, setting aside the fundamental questions, such as whether souls existed or what made a human human, if artificial personae made from knowledge, intelligence, and memory could continue debating with each other without end, humankind could continue marching forward even within the confines of an environment like Ruler’s Wisdom.

To make any of this happen, Sol had to first make the current bearer of the circlet and the circlet itself willing to cooperate. Giving her back the country she had lost ages ago was a good place to start. He wouldn’t ask too much—he wasn’t planning on performing human experiments on her or taking Ruler’s Wisdom apart. It would be enough to ask in person how the circlet and its bearer coexisted and, with permission, request Gawain to examine it up close.

If Gawain actually managed to make a superior version, Sol would be more than happy to be the lab rat himself. It wasn’t that he had no other options; he had no qualms about experimenting on his enemies. No, he actually wanted to test the prototype personally. And even if Gawain couldn’t check all the boxes that Sol was letting his mind run away with, at the bare minimum, Sol wanted the bloodline restriction removed so that the wearer could freely choose who to pass the magic tool to. Additionally—and he wanted to confirm with Rosalind how Ruler’s Wisdom actually worked first—there was a function or two that he might want removed.

There was one last use for Ruler’s Wisdom that Sol had yet to discuss with anyone: He was thinking of using it to address the profound difference between his lifespan and that of his monsters. Even if they managed to make his dreams come true, he would eventually die of old age. If all of them could come to terms with the parting, then it was fine. If, however, it would leave them feeling left in the lurch, he wanted to do something about it.

The reason sounded poetic but was far more pragmatic in nature. The main issue was that Luna’s Augoeides was still sealed inside the false moon. If he managed to restore all her organas on his adventure, great. However, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t die before then. If that actually happened, if the person who had summoned Luna was gone, the concern was that she would be thrown back into that prison, which was something that Sol wanted to prevent at all costs.

When the Floating Continent had risen once more, Sol, Luna, and Aina’noa had received contact from a being they could only presume was God. That being understood human speech and seemed to possess human emotions, yet it had the very real ability to directly interfere with the bindings of the All Dragon’s Augoeides and one-sidedly initiate contact with both Sol and Luna through Player. That last one was the most serious.

If the being in question was truly the God who had created this world and therefore had the ability to freely alter all the talents given to humans, all spells and magic tools, and even the laws governing reality itself, resistance would be truly impossible. Just as it was hopeless for characters in a book to resist their author, Sol’s and Luna’s every thought and every action would be nothing more than material to be manipulated at will. Even emotions like rage and grief could be turned into acceptance.

However, Sol’s gut told him this wasn’t the case. Him being a character in such a book didn’t fit with what he knew of the world, and he had never heard of a story where the author—God—had interfered in such a manner. Even if that being truly was the equivalent of this world’s Creator God, their conversation had strongly suggested there were rules even that being couldn’t break. How the rules had come to be was irrelevant. At the very least, the being seemed satisfied with taking a back seat and giving Sol free rein. The lack of any further contact supported this theory.

That being the case, Sol wanted to go all in on securing more options for himself. There was no telling yet how far Ruler’s Wisdom could be taken, but it carried the promise of a way to keep himself and Player in the game even if he was defeated or lived out his lifespan, so he was all for taking a swipe at it. If the only way forward was to shed his human form, he would do so in a heartbeat, though the ideal outcome was to realize all his dreams while he was still alive as a human and then die peacefully in his sleep. Then again, he wouldn’t mind being transformed so that he could continue living forever with Luna if the opportunity presented itself on his travels. She would surely play a large part in his dreams coming true, so if that was what she wished for, it was only right that he reciprocated. That was what it meant to be a good liege.

If Reen, Frederica, and Eliza were willing to go along with it too, they could all have a grand time together—the whole group who had unraveled every last secret of the world, forever living in their continent in the sky. That didn’t sound so bad.

There was no way to know at present whether this would actually come to pass, of course.

Chapter 3: Reclaiming the West

The massive project to reclaim the western expanse was given the name Reconquista Oeste. It was the first big endeavor helmed by the Panhuman League, the organization managing the continent unified under the Libertadores. The aim was to “reconquer” the land of the seven countries that had been taken over by Country Eater and other monsters, foremost of which was Crystania. Everyone took to it with great fervor.

What would have required at least ten years of planning in a world without Sol was nearly finished in a single year. This miraculous achievement was thanks in large part to brand-new infrastructure that seemed to be from several eras in the future. There were two main factors that characterized this new era: the reintroduction of lost technology previously thought to have been buried by time and a never-ending stream of futuristic tools and weapons produced by the weapons development outfit founded and headed by Gawain. And thanks to various abilities of Player and the Elven Queen’s control over the World Tree, both could be kept running at full power without ever running out of mana.

Teleportation was now widely available, making it possible to move even the entire Floating Continent and its surrounding islands across great distances and, within a certain range, keep highly important facilities connected on an almost permanent basis. People and goods could flow freely, drastically shrinking the world.

Recently, Julia, the Saint of Healing, had also founded Panacea, an organization dedicated to providing healing and rejuvenation to all. As a result, the workforce had swelled significantly and become far more productive. People were happier too, as work no longer felt tiring and they were receiving compensation commensurate with the effort they put in. Besides the periodic rest that they had to take and the occasional splurging spree using the money they had saved up, most everyone spent almost all their waking moments throwing themselves into their work.

Originally, the fact that this undertaking was deep in the heart of a former taboo territory, where human civilization couldn’t have been farther away, would have been the greatest obstacle of all. Though the boss, Country Eater, was gone, monsters far too powerful for normal humans to handle still roamed freely. At least, they had, until the Divers and the Wayside Knights went around and cleaned house. The former was a group of top adventurers handpicked by and directly answering to the Adventurer’s Guild, and the latter a chivalric order under the direct command of the Panhuman League and headed by Captain Leticia and Vice Captain Lydia, Frederica’s two former personal guards. For those armed with Player’s support, a few more levels under their belt, and armis magicka created by Gawain, monsters on the surface—dungeons were a whole other deal—were no longer much of a threat.

Every once in a while, they would encounter a monster still beyond them. Standard protocol was to make a safe retreat and report back to Sol’s group. The monsters in his service would then, for some reason, gleefully rush out and take care of it right away. By now, a monster suddenly being launched high up into the air in Atriesta’s vicinity or the All Dragon coming back dejected that she had punched something too eagerly and reduced it to nothing no longer caused a commotion. In the beginning, everyone’s jaws had dropped every time, though.

What the people had found most surprising was seeing the All Dragon worriedly shooting looks at Sol’s face to make sure that he hadn’t gotten tired of her when she made mistakes. Of course, learning that her “true” form wasn’t the giant terrifying Astral but the adorable little girl ranked very high for many people too. But for the workmen who had been in the first group to arrive, there was no beating the spectacle on the first day, when the greenery that had swallowed up the defenseless ruins wilted and died in the blink of an eye, pristine water surged into the dried-up waterways, and two hundred years of weathering was undone with a wave of Aina’noa’s hand.

The workmen remembered being surprised by both the reminder of how incredible Sol’s monsters were and how much easier their job had suddenly become. Those who had gotten used to life here felt most keenly how humans truly could get used to anything. They were sure that if they went home and shared their experiences, they would be laughed out the door.

The most dramatic change that everyone was unconsciously getting used to was the way they could traverse the great western expanse several times a day through the teleportation circles on the floating islands. What was being gradually accepted as normal was changing day by day here in the west. This was true not only in Atriesta, but also major cities throughout Crystania and even hubs in the six other former countries. The world was plowing forward like a noisy steam engine, growing and becoming more prosperous at breakneck speed.

On this big, beautiful planet, stories were spun and progress made not only when Sol was around. That was because everyone who dedicated their blood, sweat, and tears to the development of the world in their respective jobs were all protagonists in their own right.

◇◆◇◆◇

“Oh hey, it’s Lord Sol’s group.” The head of the builders working on the castle in the heart of Atriesta stopped what he was doing and looked down at the distinctive group passing by far below.

The reconstruction had made good time and progressed to the main keep, which was now rising higher and higher each day. The builders naturally all wore lifelines, but Sol had also cast beefy HP barriers on them as a precaution, not wanting to lose veterans with highly valued skills. Thanks to these measures, not a single person had died. One apprentice had fallen from a normally fatal height but walked away unscathed. Thankfully, that did not motivate anyone to attempt the same feat, and the person in question and his mentor had both been promptly reassigned to another work site with less inherent danger.

The head’s second-in-command whistled an appreciative note. “Damn, you’re right. They sure are diligent. Don’t they ever get sick of going dungeon delving every day?”

Sure enough, Sol’s group could be seen proceeding down the main street connecting the finished main plaza to the castle’s main gate. His airship was docked in the main plaza, having gone unnoticed by the focused workmen as it descended from San Jeluk’s Tear, his private island way up in the sky.

Deep beneath Atriesta Palace was the entrance to Abyss, one of the Four Great Dungeons. Sol’s group was headed down there to challenge it again, as they did every day. In addition to Sol, the group consisted of his three monsters, the four who had taken down Country Eater, and the latest addition to the Libertadores, Rosalind Magica Crystania. Considering that it was Sol alone with eight girls, it was the very definition of a harem party.

The workmen’s honest opinion was that since Sol had already effectively conquered the world, there was no need to make such an effort to seem serious about the dungeon—he should just sit back and enjoy his women and wine. Never had it occurred to them that he was doing it for real and that exploring the unknown depths of the dungeon excited him more than sensual pleasures. But in fact, he seemed to be in the highest spirits of his group.

The other workmen nearby also put down their tools to join the conversation.

“Nah, when I went drinking after work the other day, I heard that Lord Sol’s group is focusing more on training than delving right now. They’re teaching our queen how to fight monsters, if you can believe it.”

“Damn, are they even human?”

It made sense to set aside time to teach Rosalind how to fight now that she had joined the party, as she had never even picked up a sword before that. However, the workmen saw their beloved queen as only a seven-year-old child. Though she seemed mature and was brilliant enough to have an active hand in ruling, she was still so young that she had yet to even receive her talent, which happened on a person’s twelfth birthday. Under normal circumstances, bringing her into the dungeon and making her learn how to fight monsters would be straight up diabolical.

“But we all know how much the world’s changed, don’t we?”

The workmen shared a carefree laugh. Surviving a fall from the top of the main keep without a scratch was but the start. Thanks to magic, they had also experienced a whole week of working, eating, and playing without needing a moment of sleep. Even lost limbs could be regrown as good as new. As those who had free access to all these miracles, their perception of what was reasonable or possible had changed drastically.

Most importantly, Rosalind was being accompanied by Sol’s whole group, which included the All Dragon, who had repeatedly tossed colossal monsters into the air around Atriesta—with some even bursting like fireworks—and the four who had killed Country Eater. Though Abyss was a named dungeon, even total amateurs who knew nothing about fighting, like this group of builders, understood how safe Rosalind was. It could even be said that Sol’s party was being overprotective. Whether teaching her how to tear the heads off monsters was a good thing or not was another issue entirely.

“Ain’t that the truth. In the first place, I’ve never seen Princess laugh like that before. She seems to be enjoying herself, so it ain’t our place to say nothin’.”

It was true that Rosalind had been laughing more as of late. The autonomous region of Crystania had been far from prosperous, and she’d had no choice but to put on the crown at a very young age. Now, however, she was going to and from the dungeon every day smiling like a child her age. Setting aside the question of whether her current situation was one that a seven-year-old child should have been enjoying, the citizens felt it was their obligation to simply be happy for her and pray that these days would last as long as they could.

Someone blurted out, “I mean, but if she doesn’t, he’d realize she’s sucking up to him, right?”

The comment had come from either an extreme sense of security knowing that no one else was this high up or a lack of attention due to viewing the other workmen as family, but that thought was on the minds of all Crystanians. They were deeply aware of how fortuitous their current situation was. Even though they had made no contributions at all, Sol had restored their country and not only kept Rosalind as their ruler but also accepted her into the Libertadores. As mere commoners, they hadn’t the faintest idea what had gone on behind the scenes for this to happen, but it wouldn’t be strange at all for Rosalind to be doing everything in her power to keep her grip on this happiness they had all tasted. They were more than familiar with her ability to think and act far older than her seven years.

“Let’s not go there, man. Not if you want to keep your head.”

“Point well taken.”

Of course, this was something that shouldn’t have been said out loud, even if everyone was thinking it. If Sol and Rosalind were happy with the arrangement, it didn’t matter if it was natural or calculated. Back in their autonomous region, the Crystanians had been worried about starving to death every year. Here, they and their liege were happy. This was an undeniable truth.

Most importantly, the world was now figuratively entirely in Sol’s hands. A few hundred meters away up in the sky was not a distance beyond his reach or his earshot. If Frederica whispered Wise choice in their ears this very moment, they would jump so high they’d fall off the keep, but at the same time, it wouldn’t be all that surprising. It was never a good idea to tempt fate. Even if it was just words.

When Rosalind disappeared from view, the head builder clapped his hands once and declared, “All right, let’s stop gabbing and get back to work.”

“Yes, sir,” said the youngest of the group as everyone swiftly returned to what they were doing. “We’re hitting White Silver Pavilion afterward, yeah?”

Aside from work that required extreme concentration, a moderate amount of chitchat did not significantly hamper their efforts. What was important was going with the tempo of the workflow and relaxing without becoming negligent or shoddy. It also was important to motivate the troops, so to speak. Thus the confirmation.

“I’ve made a reservation at Paradis after that!” someone who had been with this group just a little longer called out. “No idea if the rumor that Falra and Lucrezia are leaving the main store in Magnamelia and coming here is true, though.” Like a true youngster, he had evening entertainment planned for after dinner.

One of the older men who had yet to settle down had more information to share about the city’s increasingly lively nightlife. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Top brothels from many countries are planning on opening shop here with their best girls.”

The youngster’s eyes widened. “Seriously? Damn...”

Those rumors were not entirely baseless. Large establishments from all over the continent were indeed trying to secure footholds in each country in the rapidly developing west. The effort that some were putting into the business here in Atriesta truly made it seem like they were in fact making this their new home base.

What gave all the talk an extra dimension of credibility was that Paradis, the largest brothel in Magnamelia, already had an open branch in Atriesta, and some of their most famous girls had indeed transferred here. That suggested their richest and most powerful patrons had come too, following them. The other brothels saw this as the beginning of a trend that would make Atriesta a much bigger market for new customers than their home cities or even Magnamelia.

It was no exaggeration to say that at this moment in time, Atriesta was the center of the world. To be more accurate, wherever Sol settled down was the center of the world, and he was currently staying in Atriesta.

While listening to his men’s spirited conversation, the head builder murmured, “Man, us eating at high-class restaurants and sleeping with high-class courtesans? I still can’t believe it sometimes.”

The salary of a castle builder had always been high, but only for a commoner. It didn’t compare to the income of adventurers or soldiers, let alone nobles. Moreover, Crystania had been dirt-poor, so it had almost become an obligation for those working abroad to keep what foreign currency they earned and spend it back home. The high-class establishments in the cities where they worked therefore seemed out of reach, as they had to be frugal.

The youngest shook his head. “The demand for those with specialized skills is crazy high right now.”

This group of builders was being paid very handsomely, and it wasn’t only them. Everyone with professions needed for the restoration of the west was enjoying incredibly generous benefits. That was all the truer for this group, as they had been commissioned directly by the Panhuman League. Their salary seemed off by a whole magnitude, such that they could comfortably afford to eat at high-class restaurants and spend the entire night with high-class courtesans every day.

“I feel kinda bad about it, to be honest. Like, what am I doing working such a big gig, and why am I being paid so much for it?”

“I hear you, but there isn’t really anything you can do except making sure you can be proud of your work.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

The youngster flashed a smile, and his boss gave him a reassuring nod. Then the builders all turned to focus on their tasks. Their liege was sticking it out, facing terrifying opponents in the dungeons next to even more terrifying companions. The least they could do, then, was apply themselves so as not to embarrass themselves, their families, and their beloved queen.

After all, what they were working on was their own palace. It had to look perfect in the eyes of all visitors and be Rosalind’s pride and joy. It was daunting that this project had an unlimited budget, but that also meant they could use the best materials and apply the full extent of their skills and expertise. That was the greatest joy for them as craftsmen, though it certainly also felt good seeing their chosen profession rise in demand and receiving sufficient compensation to support a lavish lifestyle.

All over Atriesta, the same scene was playing out in myriad settings as the citizens of Crystania strove to give form to their love for their country.

◇◆◇◆◇

While the reconstruction of Atriesta continued apace, a patrol headquarters had been set up right outside its north gate.

“Squad One reporting back. No monsters encountered in our assigned area in the north.”

“Squad Two, same in the east.”

“Squad Three, same in the west.”

“Squad Four, same in the south.”

Standing with her back against the imposing outer wall that had been one of the first structures to go up, Lydia noted down the update from the last of the squads who had gone out on patrol earlier. The taciturn former personal guard under Frederica was now a member of the Libertadores and vice captain of the Wayside Knights.

She was using a magic tool that Gawain had made from the horn from a Floating Continent monster that had been giving other monsters orders, which allowed her to freely communicate with someone else within a thousand kilometers. Of course, the display windows that Sol could grant temporary access to were far more convenient than voice-only communication. In fact, because enemies would automatically show up on the map as red dots, there was no need to send out patrols at all. However, it simply wasn’t feasible to keep relying on him for minor things like this, as he was—understandably—a very busy person. All the more so when the tasks in question had an alternative solution, even if it was clumsier. It wasn’t taking the task in question lightly, but avoiding wasting his time with what others could do too. That was the whole purpose of creating ancillary organizations.

Therefore, four squads of ten members each were patrolling Atriesta’s vicinity and keeping it monster-free. Everyone who would be seeing combat had already received a stat boost and new skills from Sol through Player. Their organizations were now dedicating themselves to improving and streamlining their workflow so that they could be weaned from Sol’s help as much as possible. It was nothing less than the All Dragon’s mood on the line.

When not being compared to Sol’s display windows, this communication tool was a complete game changer in its own right. Being able to instantly exchange information—and no battle would ever stretch beyond the tool’s range of a thousand kilometers—provided an overwhelming advantage.

“HQ, all received. Return to base ASAP.”

Four voices said in unison, “Copy.”

Considering that the squads were running about the expansive wilderness with superhuman levels and stats, being able to receive status reports from them back at headquarters in real time was huge.

“Squad Two here. We’ve encountered a spawn in the east at point 1042-301-144.”

“HQ, received. We see your smoke signal. Scale?”

Getting reports in real time meant being able to deal with problems right away when they popped up too. All the areas meant to be patrolled had been divided and labeled, and when the assigned squad came across a monster spawning, they were to send word and set up a smoke signal to mark the spot. The last part was primitive but effective. And by going through all these steps, headquarters could tell almost instantly what was happening and where.

“Area size: level 2. Conception mana: around 3,000. We can handle this ourselves.”

Monster spawning was the phenomenon of monsters appearing out of thin air. As a basic rule, this was how the world was populated by monsters, as they did not procreate. They could grow but not be born. This was true of all monsters, down to the weakest ones. Through analysis of the data gathered from the spawning of monsters above a certain strength, protocols had been developed so that the strength of emerging monsters could be gauged and, especially in the case of the more troublesome ones, they could be killed before reaching their full strength.

All this had been learned and developed by studying the territory bosses killed by Sol’s group and footage of monster spawnings captured by his display windows. The biggest paradigm shift that this world had seen was undoubtedly the relationship between humans and monsters. Breakneck progress was being made to defang what had once been the worst threat imaginable. As part of that push, a system was needed to quantify how much of a menace each monster was, and what Squad Two had just encountered, an “Area size: level 2, conception mana: 3,000” could be easily resolved by the squad alone.

The Wayside Knights, essentially being Sol’s personal force, were next in strength to the Libertadores and outfitted with official equipment produced by Gawain’s workshop. Though taboo territory bosses were still beyond them, they were more than capable of facing even unique monsters that had newly spawned.

To put the numbers into context, the largest area size of a spawning event was level 5, and the strongest monsters the Knights could handle were conceived with at most ten thousand mana points. Part of their loadout was giant arms that their captain and vice captain, out of a deep admiration for Frederica’s Type Hecatoncheires, had asked for, and all ten of Squad Two had theirs out already at the moment. However, they were knights, so their arms were holding giant swords and shields rather than being bunched up to throw punches. These weapons looked normal but were sized for giants, and more than explained—along with their plethora of skills—how the Knights could handle most monsters.

After forwarding the details of the report somewhere using the terminal in her hand, Lydia said, “No, do not engage. Leave it and return.”

This order was normal when the monster in question had numbers so high that it required the attention of Sol’s monsters, but that wasn’t the case here.

The squad leader asked reflexively, “Are you sure, HQ?”

Lydia sighed. “We’ve received a roundabout request from Acting Pope Ishli for opportunities for the Church to show off too.”

Protecting the common people from threats was a noble undertaking and therefore something that all organizations wanted to take part in. The Wayside Knights and the Divers were reaching a sweet spot in terms of how they divided this work, but come to think of it, it was true that the Church had not had much time in the spotlight recently.

As the continent’s powers and interests gathered toward the western expanse, the Church had continued providing support to the areas in the rest of the continent too destitute to support themselves. There was nothing glamorous about that. However, it was important work, and Lydia and Leticia, who had come from remote villages themselves, understood that all too well. As such, they couldn’t find it in themselves to turn Ishli down, especially when he was practically living out the life of the ideal clergyman these days.

“I see. Understood,” said the squad leader, who then joked, “A shame about the dispatch reward, though.”

The basic salary of the Wayside Knights was extremely generous, and the reward in question was more of a bonus than anything. Knowing that, Lydia returned in jest, “You’ll have to make do with just the discovery reward this time.”

“Since it looks like I’m getting a reward today, can I interest you and Captain in dinner?”

“To show my respect for your courage in asking over this channel where Lord Sol is privy to every word, I just might take you up on your offer. You might have to ask Captain Leticia some other way, though.”

“I’m in here too,” said Leticia. “I like the sound of a free meal.”

Since her subordinate was stepping out of line, Lydia was reining him back in. Their chivalric order wasn’t so uptight that joking was entirely forbidden during missions, but this was a bit too frivolous in the middle of an active monster spawning. It was a superior officer’s duty to take responsibility for the mistakes of those underneath them, so Lydia and Leticia were playing along so they would get into trouble too.

“Thank you very— Uh, are you serious about Lord Sol knowing?”

The squad leader was over the moon for a brief moment at finally getting a yes from the captain and vice captain who had always turned him down, but all levity quickly drained from his voice as realization caught up.

Lydia sighed heavily. “I have no reason to lie. Why would you think otherwise in the first place?”

Understanding that he had gotten his superiors caught up in deep trouble, the squad leader cried, “I have spoken out of line during a mission! I’m deeply sorry!”

“We’re in the same boat, so let’s take the heat for it together later.”

It was too late, unfortunately. Lydia and Leticia knew Sol wouldn’t reprimand the squad leader for this, much less the two of them. But Frederica most certainly would. The pair weren’t actively protecting her anymore but were still technically her personal guard as the Wayside Knights were under the princess’s direct command. If the exchange just now had taken place under anyone else’s jurisdiction—Steve’s Adventurer’s Guild, Ishli’s Holy Church, or Eliza’s underground world—Frederica would undoubtedly have simply laughed it off. However, as someone shouldering responsibility for the great power that was the Wayside Knights, she had to hold not only herself to a higher standard, but those under her as well.

That was why Leticia and Lydia had purposely jumped into the fire too. Their subordinates understood this, which was why the gesture was effective as a lesson for all of them.

As Squad Two, led by a very dejected leader, made its way back to headquarters, large magic circles appeared around the area where the spawning was happening. This was followed by smaller magic circles above the area piling up toward the sky and spaced apart at regular intervals. The latter were for aiming. Upon receiving the notification and coordinates from Lydia earlier, the Church was now pointing its last remaining orbital satellite, Uranos, at the spawning area. The next instant, the encircling magic circles deployed barriers to protect the surroundings as a Divine Punishment energy beam crashed down. The emerging monster had no hope of resisting the torrent of destruction and was therefore erased without any resistance, serving as a demonstration that any crisis could be headed off with the bare minimum of power when caught early.

“How can I put this? Monster fighting...sure has changed from what we knew.” Leticia shivered a little at the thought that an orbital strike from a Divine Punishment, something that had been firmly within the realm of myth and legend until recently, was considered the minimum of anything.

“No choice but to get used to it,” Lydia said bluntly. Though taciturn, she had a rather bold personality that could roll along with things quite easily. And she was right, especially considering their proximity to Sol.

Leticia shrugged. “Yeah, I know.”

These two had already received from Sol personalized equipment on par with the Numbers armaments as well as enough strength to easily deflect Divine Punishment. It was about time they stopped being overwhelmed by the enormity of the power entrusted to them and properly thought about what they could achieve with it, especially in ways that could help their liege. Though at the foot of the table, they were among the founding members of the Libertadores. As those whom so many looked up to, it was their obligation to carry themselves accordingly and produce results commensurate with their position.

◇◆◇◆◇

At the northern edge of the continent was the Grand Duchy of Daltaria, one of a group of tiny nations that were the shattered remains of the once-powerful Lataria Empire. In its heyday, Lataria, a country originally founded by a homogenous ethnic group, had formed the Five World Powers—this was after Crystania was destroyed—alongside Emelia, Istekario, Amnesphia, and Poseinia. However, after repeated fracturing due to fighting over succession, it was now little more than a group constantly at each other’s throats. The only reason it still existed was that none of the larger powers saw any value in taking it over.

Of course, there were people striving to make an earnest living even here. This land, though normally closed off by heavy snow and cloudy skies due to the long winters in the area, was currently enjoying a brief summer. And at this very moment, Daltarian merchants were teleporting from their humble capital to the floating island hanging high above in the clear blue sky one after another along with their goods.

After stepping through with several covered wagons as usual, one of the young merchants stared at the view over the edge of the floating island and said in a daze, “I’m still having trouble wrapping my mind around how incredible this gate is.”

Ka-Lu was in his early thirties and had a well-built body, brown hair, brown eyes, and rugged features. He had already used the teleport gate many times by now, but being able to travel, carriage and all, from the city below his eyes to this island simply by stepping through it still felt bizarre to him. No, more accurately, it filled him with fearful awe. In spite of his rugged looks, he was a rather sensitive person.

“I hear you, but for me, it’s the island more than the gate that I can’t get used to,” said Se-Raai, a fellow merchant selected by Daltaria to contribute to Reconquista Oeste.

Though he was in his late twenties, it wasn’t uncommon for Se-Raai to be mistaken for a teenager, a fact that he wasn’t above taking advantage of sometimes. He was well-built too, but in a lean way, and had a sweet face and an eye-catching contrast of tanned skin against blond hair and blue eyes. His features were so shapely that he came across much more as the son of a noble than a merchant.

Ka-Lu had no intention of disagreeing. “Fair enough. The fact it’s freaking flying is plenty scary.”

Se-Raai paused, then said, “Yeah, I’m never gonna get used to it no matter how many times I do this.”

“Don’t worry, me neither.”

The mere thought that the ground underneath their feet wasn’t supported by anything made both of them feel cold beneath the belt. And as if that wasn’t enough, they were once again going to see—up close—large-scale magic they would never have dreamed of a little over a year ago. Asking them to feel nothing was a tall order.

After confirmation that all state-sponsored merchants and their goods were accounted for, the sequence for the spell in question, superlong-range teleportation magic, started up. Layman merchants like Ka-Lu couldn’t make heads or tails of it, but the entire island was enveloped in layers of spherical magic formations. Then the view melted into pure magical light as everyone felt a slight vibration that reached their chest and repeatedly heard the high-pitched sound that indicated magic was interfering with physical matter. When the light faded and their vision returned, they were already thousands of kilometers away in the western expanse. Not only was the scenery below different, but so was the sun’s position in the sky. Even someone going through this for the first time would have had no doubt of what had happened.

Since Ka-Lu was assigned to the very heart of the western resettlement endeavor, the restored ancient city of Atriesta itself, he now found himself looking at a scene lifted straight out of a myth. To start, the imposing Floating Continent hung high up in the sky. It was still too early in the morning for it to cast a shadow over Atriesta, so its optical camouflage wasn’t engaged. The colossal landmass in its full glory was itself enough to make the sight fantastical. The view of it overhead was, for those already overwhelmed by a single floating island, beyond comprehension and impossible to recount. And the way it would quietly disappear with the approach of noon and reappear along with the setting sun... Well, people paid to watch much less.

Speaking of floating islands, Ka-Lu was also looking at countless others similar in size to the one he was on. Every so often, a spherical magic formation would spring up around one and teleport it away, or a surge of magical light would burst from a black dot and another would pop in.

Finally, before his eyes was Atriesta, a city already much more impressive than his home country’s capital even though it had been less than half a month since this whole territory had been freed from Country Eater. The outer wall and all the main roads were complete, and the commercial district, including the pleasure subdistrict, was nearly there. Construction of the residential districts—the common ones were close to the city wall and the noble ones close to the palace—was wrapping up. Just recently, the workers had even begun working on the palace’s main keep. Very soon, this would no longer be the Ruined City.

Someone who saw this view with zero context would never believe that less than half a month ago, this had been the deepest part of a taboo territory that humankind could never have dreamed of stepping foot in. Conversely, it wouldn’t take much to convince them that this was the city the entire world revolved around.

In a way, that was actually true. Ultimately, it was Sol’s Country in the Sky that would be the true center of the world, but Atriesta effectively shared the honor until its reconstruction was finished and Sol fully conquered Abyss.

“I was just a traveling peddler. So why on earth was I chosen to be a part of a national—no, an international—project?”

Ka-Lu still hadn’t the faintest idea why he had been granted his current position. He had been officially nominated by the duke, and the insignia of a state-sponsored merchant certified by both the Kingdom of Daltaria and the Panhuman League glowed on his chest and on his carriages. All manner of accommodations had been made for him, and the numbers he was dealing with left no doubt that simply doing honest business was going to earn him huge profits. The money from said deals was arranged to be routed through the duchy with the League as guarantor, so there was no fear of nonpayments.

As it turned out, speaking with the ministers and even the duke of his own country was less nerve-racking than speaking with those he did business with here in Atriesta. He had been a lowly peddler from the sticks, yet here he was, negotiating not only with head clerks from famous firms from Emelia and Poseinia, but at times even the presidents of those firms or ministers from major nations.

It had taken a while, but Ka-Lu finally understood that the courteous attitude that the duke and noble-born ministers in his country had adopted toward him was by no means meant to be sardonic. It was, in fact, a very logical change in light of the business partners he was now regularly in the company of.

It would have been one thing if he had been famous in Daltaria, small though it was. But that wasn’t the case at all—he had been just a common traveling peddler. He had been constantly running about trying to make the most of his meager capital, only somehow making ends meet by maintaining routes through villages too tiny for the attention of larger merchants. Taking a step back and being objective, he knew he really hadn’t been much of anything.

Being allowed to take part in Reconquista Oeste as a merchant not only meant earning a ton of money but also, more importantly, standing next to the movers and shakers of the world. Someone who managed to catch Sol’s eye could easily become more important than kings of small nations. Ka-Lu already saw this being the case every day, and that more than explained how his duke and superiors were treating him.

Still, the question of why he had been chosen from among the countless other merchants in the world remained. It bothered him a lot. In fact, it actually terrified him, but there was no escape. Alas, Ka-Lu did not have as much guts as his looks suggested.

Se-Raai said nonchalantly, “You must also be getting karma from all the good you’ve done.”

“Like hell anyone’s actually keeping count!” Ka-Lu retorted. Oops, that came out more vehement than I intended.

The very essence of being a merchant, according to Ka-Lu, was being someone who could bring about a positive-sum game where both they and their transactional partner benefited. That was why he had dreamed of becoming a merchant from a young age. However, he had since been forced to accept it was because he still held on to this naive worldview that he remained a dime-a-dozen peddler with no prospects.

To become big enough to do business across the continent, one had to play the zero-sum game and pursue only one’s own interests. Forget skirting the law, one would at times have to completely step over it, sometimes even ensure the profits they made were less than the losses suffered by the other side. This was what all merchants, even those who weren’t particularly talented at it, learned after a few years.

However, Ka-Lu had never incorporated this worldview. In his book, the thanks he received when visiting villages no one else did counted as profits too. He made enough to live on, and that was enough for him. He was aware he was just being lackadaisical, so he had unconsciously snapped when characterized as some virtuous philanthropist.

“Nah, I think someone actually is, lately,” said Se-Raai, his smile deepening. “I’m just the owner of a tiny store near the slums. There has to be some other metric being used here. Otherwise, we would never have been chosen.”

He was largely on the same page as Ka-Lu. Though he had a store in the capital, he was the furthest one could get from being successful, as he bought nearly expired foodstuffs at a slightly higher price and sold them cheap to the poor. There was no way for him to grow with his meager earnings, and if he hadn’t had the connections his parents had left him, his store would have gone belly-up ages ago. This was why, despite his stunning looks, he had never come close to having a wife and child. He simply couldn’t afford it.

The way Se-Raai interpreted the situation was that the heavens, or someone, at least, was watching and had chosen him and Ka-Lu with intention. It might have been going too far to call what they were doing “good deeds,” but they were at least merchants who had shown a dedication to helping others while proving they could sustain themselves. What was being looked at probably wasn’t the value of the deals made, but their ability to make sure everyone walked away happy, though admittedly, this did sound almost too good-natured to be used in selection criteria.

“Did you just brag that you’re a great person with a straight face?”

“Ha ha ha. Joking aside, this is an incredible opportunity.”

“That I wholeheartedly agree with. I never dreamed I would ever get a commission from His Grace himself.”

“We’ve both gotta make the most of it, then.”

“R-Right.”

Se-Raai was still smiling, but there was a serious glint in his eyes that intimidated Ka-Lu a little. Though they had only become acquainted recently, Ka-Lu acknowledged Se-Raai as a very capable merchant. He never approached a negotiating table without already having the conclusion he wanted in mind, and the adroitness with which he arrived there was eye-opening each time. The smart thing to do, then, was to learn from him. Ka-Lu didn’t care that Se-Raai was younger. He was more skilled, and that fact alone was enough to seek his tutelage.

Besides, Se-Raai was right. Someone who failed to take advantage of such a big opportunity when it was handed to them on a silver platter, regardless of whether they sought ideals or pure profit, was all bluster and not a merchant. If they had a particular idea of the kind of merchant they wanted to become, this was the moment to take action toward getting there. Conversely, if what they had been doing so far had been working for them, the most foolish thing to do now was become overwhelmed by the opportunity and lose sight of who they were.

Taking the lesson from the younger Se-Raai to heart, Ka-Lu psyched himself up for the several large deals that he had scheduled today. And before he knew it, he blurted out, “You think I can get a floating island of my own? Just a small one.”

“Now that’s reaching high,” said Se-Raai, his surprise quickly turning into understanding. “But I suppose I can see the appeal it has for you.”

A traveling peddler would be able to stock up as much as he wanted and visit even the most remote villages at the end of the most treacherous paths. His low profit margin could be made up for in quantity, and he could lift all villages out of poverty. This was the ideal merchant that he had dreamed of becoming ever since he had been a child.

“Never mind. I spoke without thinking.”

Every floating island was outfitted with a staggering list of new and long-lost technomagicka, which made them so invaluable that every country only got one. Countries much larger than Daltaria had asked, but at present, Emelia was the only exception to the rule. Even if Ka-Lu managed to take full advantage of this opportunity and became an extremely successful merchant with a reach that spanned the continent, in the eyes of the ruling class, he would still be “just” a merchant. Realistically, chances of him receiving his own floating island were nil.

Even if he was visited by a miracle and it actually happened, the maintenance costs alone would cripple him. Even the tiny magic stones that nobles used in their everyday lives were ridiculously pricey, let alone those big enough for countries to use as a part of battle tactics. Keeping an island floating...was going to require a lot more effort than feeding a horse.

Ka-Lu couldn’t forget his dream, but he also had no choice but to admit how unrealistic it was. No one could laugh at his objectivity as weakness. Therefore, instead of agreeing with his objectivity or laughing at him, Se-Raai said, “Hey, there’s no reason for you to give up either. Keep at it. If you’re striving for a floating island, then I want my own teleport gate.”

“That...would be cool.”

If someone with a personal floating island joined hands with someone with a personal teleport gate, it would actually become realistic to set up a massive logistics network, including even villages too small to install teleport gates. They could make it so that everyone’s background was something they could simply laugh about, no matter where they were born and how lucky or unlucky their circumstances were. Never again would someone work from morning to night, day in and day out, without a single joy in their lives, and still have to watch their friends, their parents, or their siblings die. Se-Raai and Ka-Lu—they would be able to make all this happen on their own will and with their own strength, instead of endlessly waiting for someone else to do it.

Such a dream was more than worthy of being pursued. There was no time to waste dwelling on how impossible it was at present. Every day, things that had been impossible even for merchants so successful as to leave their names in history were being brought into the realm of possibility. Floating islands and teleportation gates were no longer mere fiction and actually existed in real life. The establishment of the Panhuman League, the restoration of the Floating Continent without a single casualty, the killing of Country Eater and consequent unsealing of the west—all these had been considered impossible, and yet they had come to pass.

If Se-Raai and Ka-Lu wanted miracles of their own, however, they had to at least first do everything in their power. The man with the power to grant all wishes, Sol, was naturally not an expert in everything. Getting him to realize what would constitute a miracle in the merchant world would require Se-Raai and Ka-Lu at least becoming recognized as experts in their field and obtaining the right to have his ear. But that wasn’t a bad goal to set as a merchant. And since they were shooting for the stars, they weren’t going to let concerns like maintenance costs hinder them.

All they were doing now was running full tilt toward this dream that had been born inside their hearts. It didn’t matter whether it came true or not. The fact that it was there and was something that they could aim for was meaningful in and of itself. There was no knowing at present what would become of that dream. However, it wouldn’t take long for the pair to become famous for making the most of the unprecedented opportunity presented by Reconquista Oeste and joining Sol in his Country in the Sky as his designated brokers.

◇◆◇◆◇

“All right, is that it for today’s prep work?” asked Balka Stainwoods, head chef of the brand-new Atriesta branch of White Silver Pavilion. He was a large man in his early fifties who kept his head shaved and wore chef’s white over a hulking, muscular body that seemed much more suited to adventuring.

This new branch of one of Emelia’s top five high-class restaurants had a big, beautiful kitchen outfitted with cutting-edge cooking implements and was designed with the flow of the line down to the smallest considerations in mind. The current time was the lull in the afternoon after lunch but slightly before dinner. Thanks to the frenzied yet efficient efforts of all the kitchen staff, everything needed for that night’s bookings—with a buffer for unexpected occurences—was ready with time to spare.

“Yes, chef! All ready, chef! Everyone, sound off!” shouted the sous chef, Finn Volkan, prompting the other chefs to give detailed reports on their assigned stations.

“All ingredients are ready!”

“Plates, glasses, and silverware are all polished!”

“Wine, sparkling wine, brandy, whisky, ale, clear sake, juices, carbonated water, and icebox all checked and accounted for. The labels we ordered—the Blanc de Noirs and Demi Sec of Naiman de Brignac and the Angelus Domini—have also arrived and are being chilled.”

Finn was a handsome man with blond hair and blue eyes who, despite still being in his late twenties, had climbed to the position of sous chef in the main restaurant back in Magnamelia. He, too, looked little like a chef, though his appearance went in a different direction and painted him more as a patissier. That, or the number one host of a club in the pleasure district.

“All good.” Satisfied that there were no issues, Finn asked for the umpteenth time, “Are you absolutely sure about leaving the main venue, chef?”

Balka and Finn had been head chef and sous chef in the main restaurant. Finn was only willing to be sous chef to Balka, and Balka had asked for Finn by name upon coming to Atriesta. It was Finn who had then selected all the other chefs present.

“You donkey, this ain’t time to put on airs. What would I do staying back there, send instructions from miles away? Monster ingredients I—we—have only heard stories of are flooding into Atriesta and Atriesta alone. I don’t give a crap about my status. I’m just as excited as all of you to explore the possibilities here!”

There had been any number of people who had wanted the positions of head chef and sous chef at the main restaurant. Therefore, these two had stepped aside to dedicate themselves to setting up this branch. As Balka put it so eloquently, Atriesta was now a place where all sorts of new ingredients could be found, all delivered fresh as could be. And nothing in life was more important than developing new dishes that no one had ever tasted before.

“Granted, you do look like you’re having the time of your life every day.”

That answer, which Finn had also heard for the umpteenth time, evoked a wry smile and a shrug from him, but he seemed happy too. The same went for the rest of the staff, despite how demanding their work was.

The White Silver Group had many branches throughout Emelia, all catering primarily to aristocrats and wealthy merchants. This went without saying, but working in the kitchen at the main venue in Magnamelia was an extreme honor for all chefs. And yet, everyone here had discarded that privileged position without a second thought to use their skills and wealth of experience to create never-before-eaten dishes that would blow people’s minds. In short, they were all cooking fanatics.

That said, since they were using the White Silver Pavilion name, there was a standard of service that they absolutely had to maintain. They were real chefs, not mere hobbyists. Therefore, they did their prep work with all the care it was due but fast enough to squeeze out an hour each day for experimentation. When choosing this roster, Finn had made sure that applicants both shared his and Balka’s passion and had the skills to keep up. The time from now to when the location opened for dinner was a precious window they had carved out with their own efforts. Every last person present was hopping with anticipation.

“You bet!” Balka grinned broadly. “And the owner can’t complain. It’s Atriesta that’s now the center of the world and the forefront of everything, not Magnamelia.”

His thoughts turned to the partner he had started the very first White Silver Pavilion with in Garlaige all those years ago. There was no doubt in his mind that his partner shared his sentiment—otherwise, the budget for this venture wouldn’t have been approved. Sol’s group was selling monster materials at a massive discount, but considering what they were, that did not mean they were cheap. The positions of head chef and sous chef commanded handsome salaries, but they would only be able to keep going for a few days if they were to pay out of pocket. That meant, of course, that all the experimenting wasn’t just for its own sake. It had to be conducted with the goal of creating something incredible that rich customers would be willing to pay through the nose for and that could be added to the regular menu.

The quickest way to generate conversation about such a new item and make everyone wish to order it was to win over someone famous with it. In Magnamelia, standard practice was to invite high-ranking nobles famous for being gourmets and have them taste the new dish and spread word of it through their social circles. At least, that was what those with pull did. And Balka and Finn, who had both been nominated to become palace chefs before, had that pull.

A chef said absentmindedly, “Imagine how things would blow up if Sol Rock became a regular with us.”

“I do hear he’s hitting up different places every night,” said someone else.

In this city, there was no method of advertisement more effective than winning over Sol Rock. It was true that he was making it a habit to eat dinner at newly opened restaurants in Atriesta. Naturally, he was always accompanied by royalty—Frederica—and the three beings from legend who served him. They generally praised everything they ate as delicious, but the food service industry wasn’t so easy that this alone was enough to merit attention. No, it was only if he went back to visit again repeatedly that the establishment would gain the prestige of being a place he was partial to.

“I wonder if there’s a way to know which day he’ll be visiting us,” Finn joked, knowing full well there wasn’t.

Sol’s group chose where they were eating purely by mood. If they found a place full, they would simply say We’ll come another day and leave. They never brandished their authority, either outright or indirectly, by sticking around and waiting for a restaurant to “know what to do.”

Another thing they never did was book ahead of time. Before knowing how much they could trust a restaurant, booking carried the risk of having word get out, and the consequences could be significant. It was actually more considerate for Sol’s group not to book. In fact, if not for the fever of the new city going up, it could even be said that it was a duty for someone in his position to eat back in his palace. But with the situation being what it was, first-rate restaurants always made sure they had a private room reserved and enough extra ingredients prepared just in case.

“You donkey!” Balka yelled. “There’s no meaning in prettying things up for a single person on a single day! It doesn’t matter if it’s Lord Sol or a new walk-in. We’ll still provide the best service we can. That’s what it means to be a high-class restaurant!”

He wasn’t actually angry, as this was part of the exchange that they repeatedly went over. The two of them were purposely saying all this out loud to remind themselves not to get haughty or put themselves on a pedestal.

This was a trap that both sides could easily fall into. “I’m doing you the favor of feeding you!” and “I’m doing you the favor of eating your food!” were two sides of the same coin. There was a modicum of truth in either statement, but when unchecked, such attitudes would make any dish taste like ash, no matter how well-prepared it was. Similarly imbued with a modicum of truth were the approaches of “I have been granted the honor of eating here” and “I have been granted the honor of cooking for you.” A change in perspective could go a long way toward making a meal more enjoyable. And Balka believed this applied to the whole dining experience of food, drink, and service.

“Sorry, chef!” Finn said cheerily, and lighthearted laughter filled the kitchen, as everything so far had been part of the running gag.

After that, though, Balka got serious. “It would be a huge help knowing Lord Sol’s preferences, but he doesn’t know them himself, and it’s not like I’ve gotten familiar enough with any of the new ingredients to call it my forte.”

Given that the whole point was to create new dishes using new ingredients, there was obviously no point in talking about preferences yet. That said, intel regarding Sol’s tastes so far would be an enormous advantage. Frederica naturally had a firm grip on Sol’s private information, including his food preferences, but that was now. It still was possible for, say, the old main venue back in Garlaige to find out what he used to like.

Finn chuckled. “We just have to do this like our lives depend on it.” Being a good assistant, he had already put in that very request. The information was supposed to arrive tomorrow, after which they could only pray that Sol’s visit wouldn’t be for another week.

“Exactly. We’ll apply all our experience and skills to create the very best dish we can. Basically, we’ll do what we’ve been doing all along.”

“All right, let’s give it our all!”

“Let’s do this!”

It was Balka who had snapped Finn out of it when he had gotten conceited about his cooking, teaching him what cooking and what eating were truly about. So now he wanted to help make his savior and teacher the world’s best chef and was willing to go to any lengths to do so.

There was no knowing at present what would become of this dream that Finn secretly nursed within his chest, but it wouldn’t be long before White Silver Pavilion moved its main base to the Country in the Sky and become remembered as the restaurant with the longest history in the world.

◇◆◇◆◇

The headquarters of the Adventurer’s Guild had been moved from Magnamelia to its own floating island, which it had been granted on account of being an international organization. Seeing the move as an apt occasion to retire, the elderly president had yielded his position to Steve Naiman. Since there was no one closer to Sol, not a single voice, either within or without the guild, protested the nomination.

As the organization overseeing those blessed by God with the ability to fight monsters, the guild naturally parked itself in Atriesta now that Reconquista Oeste was in full swing. There was great benefit in major institutions being able to meet easily, so Sol had actually given an island to each of them, not just the Adventurer’s Guild. It wouldn’t be long before all of them moved their headquarters to their islands too, including the Holy Church and the Merchant’s Guild, as would the various countries. Practicality aside, it also just seemed thematically right that the most important people and facilities were relegated to the sky in this world dominated by the Country in the Sky.

Thanks to the head start it had gotten, the Adventurer’s Guild’s island was fast turning into a hub that would put many fortified cities to shame. Besides the headquarters, it also had a residential area for top adventurers and a craftsman’s district where gear could be bought or repaired. Work had also started on a commercial district for restaurants and entertainment, but that was taking longer, as everyone’s attention and efforts were currently still directed toward the counterpart in Atriesta. When Reconquista Oeste was further along, it wouldn’t take long for the guild’s island to be completed too. In light of the role served by the Adventurer’s Guild, its commercial district—and by extension, its pleasure quarter—would undoubtedly rank among the world’s top five. The highest-quality services would gather like moths to the flame that was the deep pockets of adventurers making a killing.

“Prez Steve, you sure you’re cool with us just going dungeon diving every day?”

Several high-ranking adventurers were visiting Steve in his office in the new headquarters. They had come in person to express concerns they had regarding their current situation.

“Why? What else are the Divers supposed to do?”

“I mean, yes, but...”

This group was composed of the world’s most powerful adventurers at present. Many of them had been on the list of candidates that Steve had considered for Sol’s new party right after Black Tiger’s breakup. At Steve’s request, Sol had greatly boosted their abilities, and they now formed the guild’s own elite force, the Divers. In terms of strength, they were the equal of the Wayside Knights. They had received the full package of extra stats, HP barriers, level-ups, and unique weapons that Gawain had made based on their weapons of choice.

What was making them uncomfortable was that, even though they were now armed with overwhelming power, they were only being tasked with exploring dungeons. Steve’s point that they were simply focusing on the purpose stated by their group name was valid, but it did little to alleviate how they felt.

“If you care more about protecting people than exploring the unknown and getting rich doing so, I recommend you change jobs. You lot have the strength to do well wherever you go. Want me to write you recommendation letters?”

“That ain’t what I’m talking about. Wait, huh? Maybe it kinda is?”

If this group wanted to dedicate itself to protecting those involved in Reconquista Oeste, it would be very effective indeed. It would also feel like work that “made a difference,” no matter how weak the monsters they encountered were.

Their actual job detail at the moment was to push into the untrodden depths of dungeons. They were making steady progress, but because the dungeon floors were so expansive and deep, it was taking them a while to get farther down. During that entire time, they were repeatedly fighting monsters that were weak, yet they were being paid handsomely, which just felt wrong to them.

Steve understood all this and was sincere in his advice about changing jobs. He wasn’t giving up on the Divers or being sarcastic. Being an adventurer and being a soldier both required putting one’s life on the line, so it was important that the person was satisfied with what they were doing. Of course, no one was ever satisfied with dying, but they should at least be able to say, “Well, I chose this path myself” and mean it, even if it was mere bravado. Otherwise, they weren’t suited for what they were doing, as how one lived dictated how one died. The fact that it was a job that constantly had them dancing with death made that all the more relevant.

“Hey, don’t ask me. What I can tell you is that there is a point to the Divers getting stronger and to humanity making progress into the dungeon. We’re not just throwing money at you like you’re a charity cause, so you honestly don’t have to think too hard about it. You can just be your adventurer selves.”

Steve scratched the back of his head, slightly frustrated at not being able to be more forthright with this group. Based on what little they knew, it seemed to them that the Wayside Knights were getting the short end of the stick while the Divers were taking it easy. Sol’s group—and therefore Steve, by extension—were not just giving them handouts. As Steve said, the Divers had been given their assignment for a reason.

His reply had made it clear there were circumstances he couldn’t share, but the Divers still had trouble accepting the unbalance between the difficulty level of their work and remuneration.

“We just feel bad, y’know...”

“I get where you’re coming from. But Sol believes that adventurers don’t do well without motivation, so he’s making it so that you can earn a fortune with your own strength and spend it like water. And you guys are good at that, aren’t you?”

Most adventurers would just go, “Hell yeah, we’re raking it in!” in this situation, and Steve thought that was enough. He knew there was a certain kind of pleasure that came from splurging with a fortune that one had earned from staring in the face of death, though he didn’t understand it too much, as he had no fighting strength of his own.

“Well, yes. But still, is it ‘our own strength’?”

Steve snorted. “Again, thinking too much. Going forward, being recognized by Sol is the ultimate strength, but it was indeed your own strength that caught his eye. You can be proud of it.”

Even the very first round of selection, where God decided whether to give someone the power to fight monsters, was power bestowed by another. Those who weren’t chosen back then were simply now getting the same thing from Sol. Therefore, what they should have been proud of was in putting in the effort to make that strength their own and deciding what they would use it for.

The fact that the Divers worried that they weren’t doing their current strength justice deepened Steve’s confidence in his eye for people. But then again, it wasn’t like he was blindly trusting them. He knew it was possible to completely take away their powers if they went off the rails.

Moreover, the monsters in the dungeons were undoubtedly stronger than those aboveground. It would become even more obvious the deeper the Divers went. This was the whole reason no one had ever fully conquered a dungeon before. In other words, it was all too possible that it was the Divers who ultimately got the short stick. Steve knew for a fact they wouldn’t complain then, as it wasn’t in their character to, but maybe this concern that they were showing had also been inevitable given that same character.

“Recognized by Lord Sol? Who we’ve yet to meet in person?”

“Well, I recognize you, and that’s pretty much the same thing.”

“Oh yeah, you’re part of Libertadores too.”

“A fact that scares the shit outta me, but yeah.”

The Divers’ attitude toward Steve remained unchanged from when he had been just another member of the staff at headquarters, and he clearly didn’t mind. But the number of people who could casually refer to Sol without his title were extremely few. Despite joining that number, Steve still treated them the same and had even recommended them for the Divers. In other words, he trusted them.

“Well, if you’re sure, we really are gonna stop worrying about it. So, you want us to just be ourselves, right? We can do that, easy.”

The only way for an adventurer to pay back trust was with results. In this case, that meant clearing every quest and mission issued by the guild and using the rewards to get even better gear and live it up. In short, to continue doing what they had been doing.

“Yes, please. You don’t want people to say that craftsmen are bigger spenders than adventurers, right?”

“Oh, that’s not even funny.”

The Divers all grinned. They were aware that it wasn’t like them to be staring at their growing pile of money while at a loss for what to do with it. After all, adventurers were the poster children for extravagant spending. The craftsmen who were suddenly in high demand due to the reconstruction were nearly beating them in this regard, and their pride wouldn’t allow it. Since throwing money around technically helped the economy and all that, the Divers now resolved to show the soldiers and craftsmen what real splurging looked like. It wasn’t like they could take their money beyond the grave, and they already lived every day with the awareness that it might be their last. Therefore, they were going to make themselves the easiest game in the entertainment district tonight.

Steve smiled at seeing the adventurers back to their usual selves. “Now that you have gotten strong and can earn all you want, you can indulge in what got you started as adventurers in the first place, whether challenging the unknown or clearing the quests that no one wants to accept while making it look easy.”

For most people, strength was a means, not an end. Now that the Divers had it in spades, they could use it to realize all the dreams they had started out with.

“Speaking of those quests, why don’t you turn them into missions?”

“Well, that just wouldn’t be stylish, would it?”

The guild had all adventurers’ livelihoods in the palm of its hand. When it issued a job as a mission and not a quest, the assigned adventurer had no choice but to take it on, no matter how badly it paid. However, Steve didn’t want to use missions that way. For him, missions were to be used to give adventurers a push—no, a kick—in the back and say, The guild will take full responsibility, so go wild! when adventurers wanted to do something really badly but couldn’t.

“True. Being able to live stylishly at will is a blessing.”

“Glad we agree.”

Strength allowed people to live stylishly—that is, in a way that fulfilled their idea of cool. The posters relegated to a corner of the quest board in Adventurer’s Guild branches and gathering dust all represented clients in trouble who couldn’t afford suitable remuneration. It would be extremely cool, then, for someone to make a dashing appearance, resolve the problem with elegance, and say, “No need to thank me.” Everyone had dreamed of having the strength to do so before, and now the Divers had that strength.

To realize a world where this was possible, Steve did not regret the long hours and days he was spending up to his neck in work...even if he needed a bottle every so often to keep going.

◇◆◇◆◇

The age of Reconquista Oeste was one where everyone lived with passion in their hearts. One where everyone wholeheartedly believed that today would be better than yesterday and tomorrow better than today, and dedicated every waking moment giving it their all. It was a time when everyone made the effort to make their own lives prosperous instead of waiting for handouts. And this was, without doubt, one form of happiness.

Chapter 4: Those Who Adventure

Art thou an adventurer? Art thou one who shies not from adventure into the abyss, one who would risk your life to make the unknown known? If so, go and conquer all the dungeons of the world, for the dungeons are a door. And that...

These were the opening lines from Art Thou One Who Adventures, the fantasy epic that Sol and his childhood friends—those who would eventually form Black Tiger—had loved reading when they were young. It was what had inspired them to become adventurers in the first place. Even now, it remained a great influence on Sol’s dream of making the unknown known and conquering the dungeons of the world.

Naturally, Reen and Julia remembered the tale, along with how annoying it had been whenever the topic came up and Sol got all talkative about it. The fact that Reen could now look back on that version of Sol and think, How cute! proved how far gone she was, whereas Julia’s “How peaceful things were back then” and subsequent sigh placed her right up there next to Frederica in terms of being world-weary.

Truth be told, the two of them had never actually read the story. The book belonged to Sol, and they didn’t care enough to ask to borrow it. They were just going along with what the boys were all excited about. What they were drawn to were the roles that Sol described so passionately when they played make-believe adventurers: tank for Reen, healer for Julia, melee fighter for Mark, and mage for Alan.

Mark and Alan, however, had definitely gotten fully immersed in the book. In the same vein as Sol’s goal, Mark had been inspired to aim for becoming a champion of the king’s army and Alan an archmage leading a famous clan. And yet, strangely, Sol did not actually remember the story. He no longer had the leather-bound volume that had once been his most prized possession either. The very existence of that story was missing from his mind, leaving only the yearning it had lit within him. Naturally, he, as well as Reen and Julia, had yet to realize it. No one yet knew what it meant—or what would happen when he and the book were reunited.

◇◆◇◆◇

“It feels like we’re finally back to our ordinary lives,” Sol said to Reen and Julia with a blissful smile. “After a long, long time.”

He and his party were heading toward the spiral staircase leading to Abyss, located deep beneath the keep in the compound of the old Atriesta Palace. Luna, who was holding his hand, looked up at him quizzically, not understanding why he was in such a good mood. The puzzlement was shared by Aina’noa, who was floating behind him as usual, and by Little Alshunna from her perch on his head. Even so, they were all smiles, as their liege being happy meant that they were happy. Luna even went so far as to begin swinging his arm.

Looking just as content, Reen replied, “It hasn’t actually been that long, but it feels...nostalgic somehow.”

This was in spite of the fact that they were going to be fighting very challenging enemies very soon. Or rather, it was because of that. For a while now, the three of them had felt like they were bouncing from situation to situation while the world changed rapidly all around them. Now, however, they were checking their gear and mentally readying themselves to face monsters. They felt like they were back to living the extraordinary life that was ordinary for adventurers, and that was comforting.

“I mean, look at what we’re wearing,” said Julia with a small smile. There was an unmistakable spring in her step as she examined herself.

Since the Numbers armaments were fast becoming the group’s loadout despite qualifying more as equippable weapon systems than traditional adventuring gear, any equipment that looked like what normal adventurers used brought back memories of their Black Tiger days. Of course, what they were using now, after it passed through Gawain’s hands, was greatly superior to what they’d worn back then. The most obvious example was Butter Knife, the sword that Reen had used in the Country Eater fight. There was no way a normal adventurer had a weapon capable of bottoming out a taboo territory boss’s HP barrier. Similarly, everything that Julia, Frederica, Eliza, and even their newest companion, Rosalind, were decked out in looked like normal gear but were actually armis magicka with incredible capabilities.

The look of the equipment Reen and Julia were using was all based on the well-worn gear they had entrusted their lives to during their extensive travels. These items had practically become a part of them, so wearing the armor gave them a sense of reassurance separate from practical performance, and brandishing the weapons evoked joy. This was something only those who had grown with their gear through thick and thin, such as adventurers and soldiers, could understand.

“I...feel a little exposed.”

In contrast, Frederica, who had never been an adventurer, saw her Numbers armament as her basic loadout. The gauntlets she was wearing at the moment allowed her to punch holes in castle walls, and her dress would protect her even from normal territory bosses, but Type Hecatoncheires was so much more powerful in comparison that she couldn’t help but feel underpowered. Or, as she put it, “exposed,” as though she were appearing before people in an extremely thin outfit.

That was partly Gawain’s fault. He had been so successful at making the foundation suit incredible at protecting the wearer that it gave him the leeway to make the outfits worn on top of those suits not only provide more stats or special abilities but also look good. And unlike Reen and Julia, who already had a style they wanted, Frederica and Eliza had ended up with designs that leaned quite hard into Sol’s preferences. In short, they were rather sexy.

That was more what Frederica was referring to when she described feeling “exposed.” And yet, she still walked out in front of Sol and did a spin for him, suggesting that she didn’t want to complain to Gawain but thank him when she saw him next. After all, it was very effective at drawing Sol’s eye. The fact that it looked normal on the surface but would become very titillating when she made showy moves in battle earned extra points in her book. And since everyone in Sol’s party was female—with him being the sole exception—there was no need to worry about being seen by other guys.

Julia sighed. “It’s scary how easily people can get used to things.”

It was anybody’s guess how much she was talking about getting used to powerful equipment or how Frederica, a cloistered princess just a few months ago, was obviously deriving pleasure from being immodest in front of Sol. Based on her expression, it was most likely the latter.

“I don’t know,” said Eliza, checking herself out. “This doesn’t seem so bad to me.”

Reen shrugged. “That’s because you’re in normal wear almost all the time when in action.”

As head of the underworld, Eliza had the most opportunities to be involved in violence. However, due to her position, her opponents were humans more often than not. She was absolutely peerless against those without Player’s protection and therefore had very little reason to bring out her Numbers armament. That meant, as Reen pointed out, that the armor she wore was usually the bare minimum, if anything, though she did always have her foundation suit on so that she could summon the armament at any time, just in case.

Given her background, in contrast to Frederica, Eliza felt overarmored wearing a “normal” adventurer loadout, even if it was a little suggestive. Then again, she had a tendency to blindly endorse everything that Sol would like. Her opinion probably took into account the little bursts of joy she got catching the occasional red-faced glances that he sneaked her way.

When she was with a man she was interested in, a woman’s every word naturally became imbued with hidden meaning. Judging by the silly look on Sol’s face, however, it was clear he was getting none of it. Then again, he wasn’t supposed to, as such maneuvering only ever happened between women. For example, Reen was smiling like her normal self, but that could have been her preening her feathers for having successfully taken her relationship with Sol to the next level the other day. Or not.

In any case, Sol’s ignorance in this regard could become a very useful tool going forward as his relationships with women became increasingly complicated. It wouldn’t be long before he perfected this trait further and developed the ability to automatically not hear what he wasn’t supposed to.

“I... I’m still having trouble getting used to any of it. I’m sorry.”

Among Sol’s Girls, the only one who was pure and innocent in the truest sense was their newest addition, Rosalind. At the moment, she was feeling extremely sorry that she was, once again, taking up the time of everyone from his party with her training. She very much did not have the bandwidth to catch the second layer of meaning in the conversation going on.

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with taking it easy,” said Sol reassuringly. “It’s normal.”

The fact that he could say that with a real smile was a clear sign that he did not see Rosalind as a girl at all. That was to be expected, as she was merely a seven-year-old child, especially after she stopped occasionally attempting wiles far beyond her years.

“Lord Sol is correct. That said, it does not mean you can be complacent,” said Blue Water out loud.

Everyone could hear Blue Water now because the artificial persona made up of the personalities and memories of Crystania’s past rulers had been completely detached from its vessel. Not only was it no longer dwelling inside the circlet known as Ruler’s Wisdom but it had been granted the ability to manifest itself without the aid of its current bearer through a special piece of equipment that Rosalind had been gifted upon joining the Libertadores.

This equipment had a very unique form and was made from the body of Country Eater, a material as powerful and singular as that which had been used for the initial versions of the Numbers armaments. At first glance, it didn’t even look like equipment. No, the appearance of Type Rodem was much more accurately described as a giant black panther currently walking nestled up to Rosalind. Ruler’s Wisdom was affixed to its semitransparent neck, and red light in geometric patterns periodically flashed across its glossy skin. It served as both a Numbers armament control system and a conduit that allowed the collective consciousness of Blue Water to join and leave Rosalind’s mind at will. When Gawain had first laid eyes on the circlet, he had grown feverish with excitement and whipped up the gear in the blink of an eye. It was a stroke of luck that Country Eater had just been killed, practically dropping the materials into his lap. That was how Type Rodem had ended up embodying the characteristics of slime monsters and taken on the most distinctive appearance of the entire Numbers series.

To digress a little, the concept of the Numbers series had been born from the nine taboo territories that made up Gio Nest, but talk was underway to expand beyond nine. Being granted an armament was symbolic of being accepted into Sol’s inner circle, so no one was against the idea of adding more seats. Once the idea was finalized, Type Rodem would be assigned a number too. It was very likely that the numbers themselves would become separated from the numbering of the Gio Nest taboo territories and be reorganized into a ranking system.

“Mm-hmm! I’ll do my best!”

In any case, now that Rosalind was completely separated from Blue Water, she spoke and acted like her age. In fact, she was just a seven-year-old girl in every sense. Since it had not been long since she had inherited the crown, the separation process had had almost no effect on her. If it had been any later, her mind would have been more than halfway fused with Blue Water, essentially leaving her with two personalities until complete assimilation.

When Blue Water itself revealed this information, everyone aside from Sol and Gawain had been more than a little disturbed. And little wonder, as it felt like their very understanding of what defined a person was being challenged. At the same time, they understood that it would be disrespectful to pity Rosalind, who had clung to this tradition as a way to keep her country alive and viewed the inheritance of Ruler’s Wisdom as a fundamental obligation of Crystania’s ruler. As a result, it had been a bit awkward for a while.

In contrast, Sol and Gawain had become even more lively as of late and were spending an increasing number of nights in Gawain’s workshop with Type Rodem. Significant resources were now being directed toward creating a replacement for Ruler’s Wisdom.

Rosalind had been a little worried about the split at the start, but her concerns largely became a nonissue compared to the benefits of joining the Libertadores. Blue Water itself had vehemently supported the idea and worked hard to convince her, so she had acquiesced without resistance. During their talk, she had also been persuaded to speak and act her age after the split, and she was now dutifully sticking to that.

As a result, Sol’s entire group had become extremely overprotective of her. Even Eliza, who had been the youngest until Rosalind joined, was significantly older than her, and she apparently loved being able to act like a big sister. Rosalind, for her part, had grown deeply attached to the trio from the slums, as they were the closest in age to her.

Unfortunately, the separation process was shy of perfection in just one way. As Blue Water was now completely separate from Rosalind aside from moments of crisis, she no longer possessed the inherited combat mastery that identified a legitimate heir of Crystania’s throne as distinctly as Absolutus did Emelia’s royals. It was because of this mastery that the ruling monarchs of Crystania had all directly taken part in battles, regardless of gender. They were never at a loss when facing monsters and could always win without much of a struggle.

The moment Rosalind had been cut off, she had reverted to being a complete novice in combat, especially in light of the fact she was still too young to receive her talent. That was why Sol’s entire party had stuck around to help her train these past few days, consequently making her feel sorry. A normal seven-year-old girl would be seized by fear upon encountering a monster. Although those on the higher floors of Abyss had no hope of getting through her HP barrier and would practically explode from a smack from her, they still scared her. However, she diligently headed into the dungeon day after day. The mental fortitude she possessed was astounding.

That said, fear stubbornly remained a part of her experience, as did mortification. Because of that fear, she got cold feet when facing opponents she could kill with a single strike and fell into a mild panic every time she found several such opponents in her way. Monsters with scarier appearances made her burst into tears, and her legs even gave out on her sometimes. Player had granted her strength that allowed her body to greatly surpass the limits of a seven-year-old, but it wasn’t easy for her mind to do the same.

But then she would look at Eliza, who’d had no experience fighting monsters until recently either but was now cutting them down with composure. There also was Frederica, who was a princess like herself—albeit of a much, much bigger country—and yet was one-tapping hulking enemies that scared the living daylights out of her. Part of Rosalind thought, Of course they’re strong; they defeated Country Eater, but a bigger part of her was ashamed that she couldn’t do the same despite having received just as much power.

Fear was all she had felt at first, but shame had steadily overtaken it during the past few days until she’d become defiant and told herself that, since she had already been given everything she needed to do her best, her best was exactly what she was going to do and results would eventually follow. Though young, she very much lived up to being the heir of the memories of Crystania’s royal family. The way she set her mouth and declared, “I’ll do my best!” was deliberate, albeit a little forced.

Naturally, this admirable display stoked the protective instincts of her “big sisters” with the effectiveness of adding oil to a fire. Seeing the surprisingly positive attitude she was adopting despite her timid nature, Julia, intending to assuage her frustration, said reassuringly, “When we started as adventurers, we were a mess too. For quite a while, in fact.”

It was funny how even Frederica and Eliza, not just Rosalind, looked surprised to hear that. The pair had been certain that Julia and Reen, geniuses who had secured Rank A promotions, had crushed it from the very start. After all, their party had graduated from the Royal Academy with top marks and quickly come to be known as the Miracle Children of Ros Village. Because Frederica and Eliza had been granted overwhelming strength right off the bat, they had no experience building up their mental fortitude by facing opponents they had to really push themselves to fight, subsequently getting stronger little by little. One side effect of this was that they possessed a somewhat overblown admiration for normal adventurers.

“Wha— Julia!”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not going to go into details.”

Reen was flustered for real, and to a much greater extent than the others. Even Frederica and Eliza, who had spent a significant amount of time with her by now, rarely saw their usually cheery and relaxed friend so shaken. While Julia was cackling away, Reen was shaking her head with all the vehemence she could muster, confirming there was at least one episode from that time that she really didn’t want revealed.

Frederica turned to Sol. “I would love to learn such details. May I?”

Her curiosity was piqued, but she knew better than to pursue the matter at the risk of earning Sol’s displeasure. Therefore, she was checking with him directly. If he didn’t mind, then no matter how vehemently Reen objected, Frederica intended to insist.

Contrary to her expectations, Sol turned pale in a flash and cried, “Nuh-uh, don’t you dare, Julia! Just because you’re willing to self-destruct doesn’t mean we are too!”

Frederica immediately understood this was a topic she should drop right away. At the very least, it wasn’t something to be aired out in the open before the whole group. The word “self-destruct” hinted at how bad the story really was, and Julia deserved serious respect for being willing to expose it regardless. Knowing that made Frederica even more curious, but it was likely something she could only ask in bed when alone with Sol, and only if the mood was right, to boot. So she pulled on an innocent smile and fell silent while suppressing her emotions.

“As you wish, O Lord Sol,” said Julia, acting demure to hide her surprise that even Sol had been so flustered, before cracking the most devious grin she had ever shown.

“Grr...” growled Sol.

His reaction convinced Julia that she had a card that would be effective against him, as long as she had the nerve to catch some of the fallout too. It would also be a rare treat to see Reen with her soul seemingly leaking out of her mouth again. As a clincher, the vibe told Julia that, given her position, Sol wouldn’t hate her for real if she actually dropped this bomb.

This relationship and atmosphere was truly only possible between people who had been friends since childhood, who went way back when they had both been nobodies, and it made Frederica and Eliza jealous to see.

“We have arrived,” said Blue Water, purposely ignoring the mood. “Is everyone ready? I shall open the door to Abyss now.”

The entity, which now also functioned as a key through Type Rodem, was deeply thankful to Sol for freeing its current host from itself. To repay him, it was dedicated to helping his adventuring in absolutely any way it could.

◇◆◇◆◇

Sol’s group was in the large room at the deepest end of Floor 17 of Abyss, where the staircase down to Floor 18 was located. The farthest any adventurer had gotten in a dungeon was Floor 10, with the as yet unannounced Divers having reached Floor 14. Getting to Floor 17, especially in a named dungeon where even monsters on the first floor were of unbelievable strength, definitely put Sol’s group at the forefront of the dungeon diving effort.

“I did it!” cheered Rosalind as the giant that had occupied the room crumpled to the ground, having failed to land a single attack on her.

The giant had been the boss of this floor. Every level since Floor 10 had one in the final room, obstructing progress down to the next floor. According to Player, this particular boss had been level 80 and named Magma Giant.

Forget Sol and the girls, this monster was no challenge even for Rosalind, who possessed the levels, stats, and skills to match. However, it looked truly awe-inspiring with its massive frame and the magma-based attacks that inspired its name, which made the scene of Rosalind fighting it that much more dramatic. In fact, if it had been broadcast the same way the Country Eater fight had been, she would have gained a surge in fans.

“Well done,” said Sol, keeping it simple but heartfelt.

Rosalind laughed bashfully.

“I can scarce believe it,” said Blue Water. “Just how powerful have we become?”

The other members showered Rosalind with smiles and applause, creating a relaxed atmosphere that was out of place this deep inside a dungeon. Normally, a party that successfully defeated a floor boss would be so spent that it had no choice but to leave. However, getting back to the surface, depending on the number of floors to traverse and how low supplies were, could be incredibly dangerous in and of itself. Relaxing was only for after one made it out safe and well.

With Sol around, however, the decision of when to call off a diving trip was entirely based on the hour, with the group completing at least two whole floors each day. Most of that time was spent on the move and mapping, with all fights being over almost the moment they began. Furthermore, Aina’noa used her power to extend the World Tree’s roots so she could set up teleportation circles that allowed Sol’s party to return home and resume progress as easy as pie.

“Rosalind’s getting the hang of fighting bosses,” Sol noted.

When Rosalind fought, she did so as one with Type Rodem, which reverted from looking like a black panther to a formless blob that completely enveloped her. At first glance, someone might think she was being swallowed and digested by a giant slime, but that was the way her armament deployed. It basically moved however her mind willed it, with Blue Water acting as the control system connecting the two. There was no limit on how she could make it look and attack, thus the definition of “Rodem” being “formless beast.”

Furthermore, Type Rodem possessed the ability to reproduce the characteristics of those it took in and digested with near perfect fidelity, which gave it an extremely large repertoire of moves. In exchange for not having any big, flashy attack of its own that surpassed enemies it had previously defeated, it had an answer for anything that enemies threw at it. Moreover, it retained Country Eater’s high resistance to physical attacks and ability to fully absorb magic-infused energy attacks—taking no damage doing so—and launch them back. It could practically turn into any opponent’s natural enemy, making it nigh invincible against monsters.

The one problem was that when Rosalind was enveloped by Type Rodem, its translucent consistency left her fully visible in her foundation suit. Of course, since she was still only seven, there wasn’t anything that drew Sol’s eye, but there was no telling how that would change when she grew older.

“Considering the high degree of freedom offered by Type Rodem,” said Frederica, “it might be a good idea for her to use it for normal fights too.”

Sol looked thoughtful. “With mana consumption no longer a concern...”

Previous Numbers armaments, which were more mechanical in appearance and had fixed forms and sizes, were proving quite hard to use in the dungeon. It wasn’t so bad in the large rooms with floor bosses, but the normal passages patrolled by common monsters could get quite narrow at times. Therefore, the group had taken to fighting in their normal gear most of the time and summoning their armaments only when encountering large enemies.

In contrast, Type Rodem could freely change its size by spreading extra body volume over the ground, walls, and ceiling, effectively becoming a moving barrier. Additionally, because it had been designed to be permanently summoned to serve as a replacement vessel for Blue Water, using it didn’t change the amount of inner mana that Rosalind was expending by much—not that it was a problem with Sol on hand to top her back up as needed. In terms of safety, she was also better off being protected by both her HP barrier and Type Rodem. Like Frederica said, it wasn’t a bad idea for her to keep Type Rodem deployed the entire time in the dungeon, though it would be far too conspicuous outside.

However, Rosalind cheerfully declared, “Lord Sol, I’ll do my best as a mage too!” while undoing her transformation.

As Type Rodem changed back into a black panther, Rosalind landed lightly, clad only in her wet, silvery-white foundation suit. The next moment, she was dried off and covered up by a showy magic-themed outfit that appeared from extradimensional storage with flashy effects. The whole sequence ended with her also holding in her hands a staff that matched the design of Julia’s wand. It was clear that Gawain had put a lot of effort into not only the outfit, but also how it appeared.

Being a seven-year-old girl, Rosalind had fallen in love with what was practically a magical girl transformation since the first time she did it. Remaining merged with Type Rodem made her feel invincible and very safe, but she really did not want to give up the transformation, especially when the other girls got to do it. The whole process had a way of resonating with both boys and girls, so much so that Reen, Julia, Frederica, and even Eliza had put serious thought into choosing their activation phrases.

“I’d like that too,” said Sol.

“Thank you!”

Sol didn’t dislike the strategy of forging the way for oversized equipment and brute force. On the other hand, with all the effort that Gawain had put into designing the girls’ normal gear, he wanted to be able to see those too. The Numbers armaments were hands down cooler than anything he had seen, but he much preferred the outfits with their array of cuteness, stylishness, and sexiness. Not that he would say it out loud.

Rosalind happily psyched herself up at his validation. It meant a lot to children to receive confirmation that they were not wearing out the goodwill of the adults in their lives. It gave them reassurance and greatly affected their ability to remain composed and perform at their best. For some unknown reason, however, many forgot this fact when they grew up and became adults themselves.

“All right, let’s head down to the next floor.”

It was still before noon, so returning was out of the question for the moment. Sol started walking toward the staircase with the usual formation of Luna holding his hand, Aina’noa floating at his shoulder, and Little Alshunna on his head.

But then, surprisingly, Rosalind caught up to him with a small run and asked, “Um, can we try doing everything from the start this time?”

She was referring to clearing the path, which Luna had been doing on each floor so far. It had been two centuries since the fall of Crystania, and naturally, no one had set foot inside Abyss since then. In that time, the monsters within had reached their population limits. There were so many of them that they could sometimes be found even in the passages.

This wasn’t a problem exclusive to Abyss. In fact, it was a given for dungeons that had never been entered before. Therefore, when a new one was found, the Adventurer’s Guild would issue a mission to adventurers of Rank B and higher and have them work with the local country’s armed forces to exterminate the amassed monster populations on each floor. If that was too difficult to achieve, the dungeon was given the “taboo” designation.

Up till now, Luna had been using her dragon breath—there was no need to go so far as to summon an Astral—to clear the hordes the party encountered so that they wouldn’t scare Rosalind. But now, Rosalind wanted to try doing it herself. She must have worked hard to muster her courage. While the All Dragon remained on hand and Rosalind therefore knew for a fact she would be in no danger, it was a tall order for a seven-year-old child to bravely face opponents that were literally trying to tear her face off.

“Hey, good idea. In that case, Reen and Julia, back her up, would you?”

To Rosalind’s surprise, Sol agreed right away. She had expected him to reply with “But that’s dangerous” or “Wait till you’re a bit more experienced.”

The fact he didn’t surprised the other girls too. Of course, Sol didn’t make that call purely because he could tell how much Rosalind wanted it. He also welcomed the opportunity to fight like a party again for the first time in a long time.

Reen’s eyes lit up. “I’d love to!”

“It’s been a while,” said Julia, grinning aggressively.

These two apparently shared Sol’s sentiments. They were cute girls, but at the same time, they also were veteran adventurers. And truthfully, their determined expressions while in their adventurer headspace were the faces that Sol loved seeing most. Of course, one of them had recently shown him another face that he loved just as much, but that was neither here nor there.

Seeing Rosalind at a loss as to why the three of them had suddenly perked up, Sol said, “Hey, don’t worry about not being able to do what Luna has been doing, all right? I know that’s what you’ve gotten used to, but the proper way is to have Reen, our tank, gathering and holding the attention from the monsters while our melee attacker whittles them down as much as possible and creates openings for the magic attacker to land area-of-effect spells to finish them off. And those on support, like me and Julia, our healer, focus on maintaining barriers and everyone’s health. At least, that’s the way we do it.”

Sol had a habit of speaking really fast when talking about something he loved. Seeing it activated here brought a smile to Reen’s and Julia’s faces, as it told them that their days as adventurers, which they’d thought they would never go back to, remained precious to him.

Rosalind made a noise that sounded like “Tha!” and froze.

“‘Tha’?” Sol repeated, mystified.

“THAT’S SO COOL!” Rosalind shouted.

Reen’s group undoubtedly looked cool defeating Country Eater in their futuristic armaments. The way Luna would clear out an entire room of monsters by blowing a stream of searing fire was terrifying, even. However, those encounters were more like a powerful monster brushing aside small fish in its way and bore no resemblance to the tales of heroes sung by traveling minstrels. Instead, what Sol had just described so passionately was exactly what Rosalind had read about in books, heard from minstrels, and even watched in Blue Water’s memories. When she imagined herself as part of such an ensemble as a combat mage, it gave her a heady rush. She entered an excited state rather typical of children her age.

“Oh yes, when the ball gets rolling, it’s like no other experience. All right, Frederica and Eliza, feel free to participate too to the degree you’re comfortable. Rosalind, stay calm and ready your area-of-effect spells. There’s no need to rush; take all the time you need for casting. Rodem, you stay by Rosalind’s side and protect her.”

As it turned out, Sol was even more of a child than Rosalind was. Speaking even faster than earlier, he threw out concrete instructions regarding how they would tackle Floor 18.

Despite being stunned at seeing someone usually so calm and composed acting like a child, Rosalind managed a spirited “I-I’ll do my best!”

Rodem was a little taken aback too but said, “Understood.”

Sol loved that simple “cool!” coming from a childish place of wonder far more than any flattery. He, too, felt that the way his party worked together to defeat powerful foes was the coolest thing in the world.

Everyone briskly descended the stairs after him, as if drawn by his passion. Before reaching the open area that was at the bottom of all the staircases connecting the floors, Julia said, “All right, give me a second to cast everyone’s buffs” and launched into a practiced sequence of area-of-effect spells.

Considering the group’s stats, they didn’t actually need buffs or even debuffs on their enemies. Frankly, Frederica could walk through this floor alone, killing everything with a punch. That was how overleveled they were for the opponents they currently faced. However, they were emulating how they used to fight, and buffing up before jumping into combat where they would be outnumbered was procedure. Also, it felt great having their abilities temporarily raised. It came with flashy magical effects and really added to the “We’re gonna fight now!” mood.

In the first place, assuming there were enemies far stronger than themselves out there—a reasonable assumption to make—meant that effort put into learning how to defeat such enemies wouldn’t ever go to waste. Simply mowing down monsters with overwhelming firepower didn’t make for a real combat experience. That was another reason it was important to return to the basics and practice getting used to a normal way of fighting. Or normal for Sol’s party, at least.

As a matter of fact, even Frederica and Eliza were getting thrown off by the buffs because of how much those buffs affected their already incredible abilities, and it was making it hard for them to fight at their best. Fully understanding one’s gear and limits was one of the basics of being an adventurer, but they wouldn’t get there by mindlessly squashing monsters and dulling the fear they felt facing them. The crux of fighting monsters was to evade their attacks and use positioning to keep resource expenditure down—to move in a “cool” way, as Rosalind put it.

Sol was thankful to the young queen for having reminded him of all this. Getting complacent after becoming the ruler of monsters could lead to disastrous consequences. After all, he knew for a fact that there was a being who could manipulate his monsters at will.

“All right, go for it!” Now that his head was back in the game, Sol announced the start of battle the way he used to with Black Tiger.

One thing that was different now was that Sol no longer had to stay close to Reen and Julia due to his inability to give himself an HP barrier. Now, he had his monsters around him for protection. Although they were initially disappointed about being sidelined, they were gradually infected with their liege’s high spirits. Even on the off chance that Reen’s group encountered a monster that could wipe them out, not a single hair on their heads would be harmed, and that was even truer for Sol. They could focus on their practice with full reassurance that their party’s shot caller was in safe hands.

“Intimidate! Rah!” Reen immediately charged straight into the middle of the open space and unleashed an area-of-effect skill that forced all the monsters in view to target her.

As long as Intimidate remained active, the monsters would be unable to direct their attention elsewhere even when they were getting pounded by attacks from behind while their own attacks proved entirely ineffective against her large shield. This was Reen’s job as a tank: to be a wall that blocked all attacks aimed at her party—to protect her party. Additionally, Intimidate lowered the speed of those it affected. If any of the monsters could speak, they would have protested, yelling, “That’s cheap!” Then again, some monsters possessed the same ability as Reen, so Sol’s side had shouted that exact sentiment in the past.

“And...Forbidden Domain’s up.” With the whole room concentrated on Reen, Julia used Forbidden Domain to create a space that no monster could enter.

This was a standard support spell for those who needed time to wind up for a powerful ranged physical attack or cast a spell with a long incantation. Some thought of it as a crutch for parties with an unreliable tank, but sneak attacks could easily lead to a party’s collapse, even by simply interrupting a long incantation and thereby throwing off the group’s rhythm. Therefore, casting this at the very start demonstrated vigilance.

“Frederica, first take out the reinforcements! Eliza, help her!”

Now that the monsters were all focused on Reen and everyone else had space to prepare any large attacks they wanted, the next order of business was to prepare for reinforcements. When the party was facing just one opponent, the standard tactic was to lure it to a place that would not draw attention from other monsters and to take it down swiftly. Against a room filled to the maximum spawn limit, however, there were bound to be a few running to summon others. Normally, humans would approach with several parties to set up a proper front so as to avoid being mobbed and simply ride out the waves.

In this specific case, however, Sol’s party was alone and only had six members, including him. Their strategy, therefore, was to assign a mobile unit dedicated to paring down reinforcements group by group before they could join the main force. Sol chose Frederica, who, being a pugilist, possessed high mobility and one-on-one fighting strength, with Eliza, who was specced for debuffing magic, as support.

“Understood, my lord!”

“Got it!”

The two swiftly set off toward the three passages leading to the room, choosing them based on the intel that Sol was gathering through Player. Needless to say, they didn’t head into the same passage at the same time. While Frederica cleared one out, Eliza filled the other two with her magic threads. Furthermore, while taking turns dealing with the passages, the two of them kept an eye out and eliminated monsters who were unaffected by Intimidate and making a beeline for Julia or Sol.

“Now Sacred Domain’s up too,” said Julia.

While Reen blocked the monster horde’s attacks and cut them down using Butter Knife, and Frederica and Eliza kept reinforcements away, Julia had been setting up an area where all her allies’ HP barriers would be continuously healed by a fixed amount for a fixed duration. Thanks to that, Reen and the mobile unit could take a little more risk in carrying out their roles. As long as their HP remained up, nothing could stop them other than attacks specifically imbued with movement-hampering effects. They would not suffer actual physical harm either, thus no pain, which meant that as long as Sacred Domain was up, they could shrug off all attacks under a certain threshold and focus entirely on offense.

“Uh? Huh? Heh?” Rosalind looked around wildly. Reen and Julia were veterans and therefore knew their respective roles in facing a large mob even without Sol’s instructions. Frederica and Eliza, though newer at this, had built up some experience and could immediately carry out any commands Sol gave. Rosalind, however, was a complete novice and felt a little overwhelmed by how suddenly the fight had begun.

“Calm down,” said Rodem, despite itself being surprised by how different this fight was in comparison to those in its memories.

“Enemies can’t enter Julia’s Forbidden Domain,” Sol explained. “Reen’s Intimidate makes all the monsters focus on her. Frederica and Eliza are going around taking care of their reinforcements. Even if ranged attacks come, we’ll be fine, since Sacred Domain is constantly repairing everyone’s HP barriers.”

Rosalind’s dynamic vision had improved significantly, but the speed at which the other girls were moving was still too fast for her to follow. The monsters, on the other hand, appeared to be standing still thanks to one of the buffs that Julia had cast on the party before the fight: Thought Acceleration. Those under the effect of the buff could communicate vocally with no issues but would otherwise see Reen as a blurry blob in the middle of the room, Frederica and Eliza practically teleporting between the three passages, afterimages in their wake, and Sol, Julia, Rosalind, Rodem, and the three monsters juddering where they stood near the entrance. Furthermore, their voices would sound like supersonic screeches that brought plays of the horror genre to mind. While the world was moving in slow motion from Sol’s point of view, from the world’s point of view, his group was moving at mind-breaking superspeed.

“Sorry! I-I’m fine now!” Rosalind shook herself, recalling that her role as a mage was to cast the biggest, most powerful area-of-effect spell in her arsenal to wipe out all the monsters in this room.

Seeing the way she nodded repeatedly as if shoring up her courage, Sol chose to stay casual, giving her a thumbs-up and a smile. “All right. Off with their heads, Your Highness!”

“Okay!” Rosalind cried cheerily, happy about receiving her own order.

She immediately prepared to cast Multilock Homing Laser. Flitting about like a butterfly, she pointed her staff at each monster to apply a targeting magic circle on it. Normally, those monsters would instinctually sense it and either rush toward her with their fangs bared or choose caution and flee. Now, however, their attention was seized by Reen, and they were forced to continue futilely bombarding her.

Soon enough, every monster in the room was marked, and the same number of light missiles burst into the air from the spherical magic formation surrounding Rosalind, raining down on their respective targets. None of them had HP barriers beefy enough to withstand the shower of shooting stars, and they were therefore erased upon contact. In the blink of an eye, Sol’s party found itself standing alone in the spacious room.

“That... That was so cool!” Rosalind gushed, thrilled that she had pulled off an incredible feat on par with those of characters from myths and legends.

Seeing Frederica and Eliza rejoining the group after having cleared the passages, Sol said, “And that’s a basic rundown of how our party fights. Did I miss anything?”

“Nope, I think that’s it,” replied Julia, brimming with satisfaction from reliving their days back when Black Tiger had been a tight-knit group. Perhaps she, too, had thought the Miracle Children of Ros Village would stay together and remain that way forever.

“It’s been ages since we fought with Sol in command!” Reen gushed. “It’s so fun!”

Despite the overwhelming difference in strength, the standard battle had left her covered in sweat and practically bouncing with delight. Her exclamation wasn’t so much for anyone’s benefit as it was a vocalization of the emotion coursing through her. Like Julia, she also truly enjoyed fighting this way.

“It...definitely was exhilarating,” said Frederica.

She exchanged a flushed and slightly dazed look with Eliza, who replied, “I agree.”

Ever since being granted their strength, those two had been making their own decisions in battle, following strategies laid out by Sol, which involved constantly keeping an eye on the overall situation and adapting on the fly. This was their first time receiving clear commands from him and simply acting on them. And it seemed the experience had been sensually pleasing.

“Oh my god, girls.” Julia made an exasperated noise upon seeing Frederica and Eliza clearly turned on, but she herself was quite excited too. It had indeed been a long time since using their typical approach to battle under Sol’s command, which was something she had once taken for granted.

Victory, seized through perfect cooperation when party members received timely and expedient orders from a commander who could see his team moving exactly how he wanted, gave everyone involved an irreplaceable joy. It was a sensation that only those who had fought with full faith in their companions could experience, an emotion that surpassed all other pleasures. It was a big reason adventurers, even after having obtained fame and wealth, continued their work. There simply was no other experience more fulfilling.

◇◆◇◆◇

Training continued apace until Sol’s party called it a day after defeating the boss of Floor 20 and returned to the surface via a teleportation circle.

Sol looked at his companions, all glowing with the satisfying exhaustion of a good workout, and said, “Now then, shall we finish off with another standard adventurer routine?”

“Oooh!” Reen’s eyes lit up. “Can we?”

Julia shot Sol a look. “You sure?”

“May we really?” asked Eliza.

The three looked surprised but very open to the suggestion.

“What is it?” Rosalind tilted her head, the only one in the dark.

Suddenly looking unsure, Sol turned to Frederica. “Would it be...bad?”

“If it is something you truly wish to do, none can protest,” she replied with a wry smile. Truthfully, she wanted him to refrain, but what he desired took absolute priority, so her hands were tied.

“My lord, are we eating outside tonight?!” Luna cried as Aina’noa whistled in joy.

In the blink of an eye, the monsters flipped from being dejected over their distance from the action during battle to being in high spirits. The routine that Sol had mentioned was, in so many words, to end the day with a feast in town celebrating their safe return after a full day of adventuring. He had stopped doing so as of late due to his position, so the practice was becoming a special occasion.

There were first-rate chefs with access to first-rate ingredients in his rear palace, on his private island, and even on his airship, so he never wanted for delicious food. He was never lonely either. His party members and the monsters were a given, of course, but he also frequently ate with Steve, Gawain, Fritz, Creed, and at times even the Emelian royal family. Even so, partying it up in the entertainment district at night was part and parcel of being an adventurer.

“All right, everyone, we got permission from Frederica!”

“Um, my lord, putting it that way is a little...”

He had been holding himself back because he knew it would make things easier for her, but he was deciding to forget his position and live out his mental image of an adventurer tonight. The thing about getting permission was a joke, but since she understood he had been going along with her wishes, it pained her a little to hear him imply that she had been imposing on him.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. But there are restaurants I’ve been wanting to visit.” Sol laughed, reassuring her that it was entirely of his own will that he had abstained and was now no longer abstaining. “So, what do all of you want to eat? Meat for you as usual, right, Reen?”

“Sol!” Reen exclaimed.

Back in Garlaige, Black Tiger used to decide what they would eat together, and Reen had always called for meat. However, she was apparently embarrassed to have this revealed to the other girls.

Julia looked off wistfully for a second, thinking back to those days, before saying, “I want fresh fish.” Every adventurer worth their salt knew this was a moment to be direct and forthright about what they wanted.

“I want to eat all sorts of things!” said Luna, who had developed a fondness for food cooked by humans, which surprised even her.

Sol nodded. “A place that serves all those things...would be a tavern.”

The tavern was the safest option, though a little chaotic. Since its clientele ranged from Rank F to Rank B adventurers, whose respective incomes were as different as heaven and earth, it had a menu far more extensive than a run-of-the-mill high-class restaurant, serving everything from dirt cheap preset meals to high-class dishes. The quality of those dishes would be no match for specialized restaurants, but they were priced reasonably enough and made well enough that no customer would feel they had been ripped off. It even kept in stock the expensive alcohol brands that nobles enjoyed for those who could afford them.

“Given your position, I too think it a good idea to give a tavern the honor of being the first eatery you visit,” Frederica remarked.

“Is that a thing?”

“If you visit the Church-run cafeteria next, then you can feel free to eat wherever you like afterward.”

“Gotcha! All right, let’s go!”

From Frederica’s viewpoint, it was convenient that the first place Sol was stopping by in Atriesta was a tavern that catered to adventurers, as it made the Adventurer’s Guild look good. If he then propped up the Holy Church, she shouldn’t be receiving any complaints no matter where he went next.

Though Sol felt bad about leaving all these concerns for Frederica to manage, he also was glad that he could share the joy of being an adventurer with his new party. And as he continued hitting up the restaurants in Atriesta every night until he conquered Abyss, every first-rate restaurant on the continent eventually moved their main branch to Atriesta.

Chapter 5: Unlimited Sword Glint

Blue Water wasn’t the only thing passed down through the royal family of the Holy Kingdom of Crystania. On the first day of the twelfth year of those with the lineage, they had the chance to also receive the unique skill Unlimited Sword Glint.

It was called “unique” because not once had it ever manifested in anyone else when an heir was still alive, nor had it ever manifested in those with no blood ties to the family. Normally, this meant it often showed up in the heir’s grandchild or great-grandchild, but skipping several generations wasn’t uncommon. Despite the infrequency of its appearance, however, this skill more than lived up to its reputation.

Naturally, even the expansive database of talents maintained by the administrators, including those in the Adventurer’s Guild, had no record of this skill. The only sources of information on it were the records of Crystania’s military exploits from over two centuries prior when it had been a world power, mostly kept by countries that had picked a fight with the Kingdom of Magic and lost. According to them, whatever and whomever the Crystanian king targeted would be sliced by countless flying slashes imbued with magic upon entering their field of view. Specific examples included a force of over ten thousand being chopped up with a glare and an impregnable fortress being sliced and diced until it collapsed like a sandcastle.

Those not in the know might think these feats myth or legend, but they were history, albeit slightly exaggerated here or there. Crystania had possessed the strength to back up its position as one of the Five World Powers, and most of that strength had lain with its king. In this world, it was unthinkable for a weak king to sit on top of a powerful nation—it was the duty of a monarch to pull their country up, and for that, they needed strength befitting their station. In the same way, Emelia, now the strongest of the Four World Powers but previously having been neck and neck with Istekario for ages, was ruled by a family possessing a unique skill.

If Emelia’s Absolutus was the perfect shield, the world saw Crystania’s Unlimited Sword Glint as the perfect spear. There were countless theories about what would happen if they clashed, but there was no record of it ever having happened. Now, however, times were different. Emelia was already under Sol’s wing, and Crystania was quickly going the same route. If Sol wanted, he could settle this paradoxical debate whenever he chose.

More important was the fact that he now had on his side three of the five cards he had seen when using Summoning and two unique skill holders. His hand was growing slowly but steadily. That raised the question of what would happen when he collected them all, what enemy he might be facing that would require him to have the aid of these singular beings. Was he playing a PvE game, where he would ultimately be fighting the world, or was this a PvP game, where he would be fighting another who also possessed such gathered strength?

Only time would tell.

◇◆◇◆◇

A month had passed since Sol’s party had begun their dive into Abyss. During this time, Atriesta had fully outgrown its nickname as the Ruined Capital. Similarly, the cities being rebuilt all through the western expanse now had an established economy and could stand on their own. They were more than equipped to serve as bases for territory clearing and dungeon diving without needing to rely on facilities on the Floating Continent or other floating islands.

Progress into Abyss was going just as fast. Sol’s party had taken it easy at the start out of concern for Rosalind, clearing only two or three floors each day, but the more familiar they got with fighting in normal gear, the more they picked up their pace. Now, they blew through five or six each day.

Thanks to this breakneck speed, they had finally defeated the Floor 99 boss yesterday, called it a day, and returned today to tackle their very first triple-digit floor. They found it to be a space so enormous that they could scarcely believe it was underground and entirely devoid of the usual labyrinthian structures. The ceiling here was extremely high up, judging by how long it had taken them to descend the spiral staircase from Floor 99, and there were walls on their left and right within visual range, but there was no telling how far the path before them stretched into the darkness. Like all other floors, that path was lined by braziers that lit up when Sol’s party approached.

It was the first time they were seeing a dungeon floor that looked so much like a simple large room. But odd architecture aside, it was filled with the maximum number of monsters it could spawn. Unsurprisingly, the first fight set off a chain reaction that drew all of them over. It ended up being one big prolonged fight, with several mid-sized and three large monsters showing up, but Sol’s party handily dealt with everything without needing Luna’s help.

By this point, there was no territory on the surface that could pose a threat to their party. They could even wipe the floor with the united forces of several countries’ armies in their normal gear. They eclipsed even other members of Libertadores, some of whom had participated in the dungeon diving a few times over the past month, in not only individual strength but also teamwork.

Sol was saying, “I see, so there’s a possibility you won’t inherit Unlimited Sword Glint either...”

The party was now proceeding farther into the space that had been completely emptied of monsters. There wasn’t a single red dot on Player’s map, nor was Luna picking up any presences. Therefore, they had naturally started chatting to stave off the boredom. The current topic was the Crystanian royal family’s unique skill, which Sol had heard snippets about over the past month.

“Yes. And it worries me,” Rosalind replied, her small face scrunched up in a frown.

“There is no doubt she is the rightful successor, though,” said Rodem. “She was the only person with the right to inherit me.”

By now, Blue Water had come to see itself as a unique entity and Type Rodem, its vessel, was its body. It had been imperfect before, when it had dwelled inside the mind of its heirs and would invariably assimilate them into its collective consciousness. The problem had been especially obvious when the heir was too young to have developed their sense of self. This time, however, Sol had shown up and given it the ability to separate itself from Rosalind, and it was deeply grateful to him for it. Though a lot of this emotion came from Rosalind’s own father, it also was the general consensus of the collective persona.

The other thing that Crystanian royals inherited, Unlimited Sword Glint, remained a mystery, though. Custom dictated that the prince or princess who received the talent would get the throne, but in Rosalind’s case, everyone else in her bloodline had died before her twelfth birthday. That was why Blue Water had fallen on her before anyone knew whether she would inherit the family’s unique skill.

The likelihood was high, given that the previous heir was already dead and she was the only candidate. However, records showed a few instances where, under similar circumstances, Unlimited Sword Glint had not appeared for several generations. Therefore, Rosalind’s worries remained.

Unlimited Sword Glint was an extremely powerful skill and a necessary arrow in the arsenal of the kings who had maintained the Kingdom of Magic’s place at the top of the world until its demise two centuries earlier. They wouldn’t have been able to do so without a clear power that could crush the fighting spirit of hostile neighbors and discourage dissidents from forming within their borders, even with the counsel of Ruler’s Wisdom.

“You still have five years,” said Frederica, who had desperately wished to inherit Absolutus herself until she turned twelve. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Rosalind nodded. “I’ll do my best!”

Frederica had been more ambitious, as what had been on the line was a great nation still in its heyday, but she could understand how it felt to be a seven-year-old girl dreaming of becoming the ideal ruler but anxious about whether she could meet the conditions. It had been a very big blow when Frederica’s hopes had been dashed—not only because she had not gotten what she’d wanted, but also because the thought of inheriting a position beyond her station without being suitably equipped had terrified her. This was why, rather out of character, she had only managed to give Rosalind a platitude.

“I don’t think it’s something you need worry about,” said Rodem, who understood better than anyone else that this wasn’t something that could be resolved by doing one’s best. “Especially when you can pretend otherwise.”

“Oh, right,” said Sol. “I was surprised to learn it wasn’t actually unlimited, but how many do you have stored at present?”

“Roughly a hundred thousand.”

“So it’s actually ‘Hundred Thousand Sword Glint’... Nah, doesn’t roll off the tongue.”

Jokes aside, Unlimited Sword Glint was the ability to save up flying slashes and release them later at will. Of course, the process of storing them required an heir to actually swing a sword. This power that was described in history texts and war tales as a feat equal to an act of God was, surprisingly, the collective result of a lot of slow and steady hard work.

Then again, such trump cards were fine too. With enough preparation to use it when needed and the discernment to know when that was, even a card that wasn’t all-powerful could have as much effect as an ace. Case in point, Crystania had been seen by the world as the top of the Five World Powers until its encounter with Country Eater.

In any case, the flying slashes in question could be stored within Blue Water for following generations to unleash. That meant, thanks to the efforts of Rosalind’s ancestors, she could unleash a hundred thousand slashes even if she didn’t end up inheriting the talent. Because the kings and queens before her had also been able to do so when needed, the world at large was under the impression that all generations manifested this talent. With a hundred thousand in the quiver, pretending wasn’t all that difficult. There was one time when a neighboring country had been convinced that the Crystanian king at the time didn’t have it and saw it as an opportunity to attack but was thoroughly trounced, with the Crystanian king famously saying, “Only fools believe solely what they want to believe.”

“Unlimited Sword Glint is actually a really cool name,” said Reen, who was starting to be affected by Sol’s preferences. With the way he wordlessly nodded agreement, the two were starting to give off the vibe of a “two peas in a pod” couple of late.

“It was named based on the vision of what it was supposed to be,” said Rodem matter-of-factly. “And honestly, now that we are under Lord Sol’s wing, whether Rosalind inherits it or not has become rather inconsequential.”

Frederica giggled. “The naming thing was the same for Emelia.”

“Absolutus” was very much an idealized name, so Rodem’s explanation struck a chord in Frederica. After all, Absolutus was no more absolute than Unlimited Sword Glint was unlimited. Yet there was no denying that they were incredibly powerful abilities, so much so that no one would have protested the exaggeration if Sol had never appeared and completely overturned the world. The members of the bloodlines that possessed them took enormous pride in them, and the abilities were so respected that they determined who would inherit the throne.

If those who possessed the abilities had been against Sol, they might have presented an interesting challenge. However, they were not. They were now on his side. It wasn’t quite the same trope as powerful boss enemies turning weak when joining one’s party, but with the All Dragon and her overwhelming attack power in the picture, it couldn’t be helped that unique skills ended up being less important. Cutting a target up with a thousand slashes just wasn’t as impressive when a single strike from a dragon could pulverize everything.

From that perspective, Absolutus seemed more useful. But only slightly, as even Reen possessed more defensive capabilities in her Numbers armament, never mind the All Dragon and Elven Queen.

“Can’t deny that they both seem really cool to use, though.” For Sol, whose specialty was in giving other people power, Unlimited Sword Glint and Absolutus were both attractive enough that he couldn’t help wanting to wield them himself.

“I think they would suit you wonderfully, my lord!” Luna nodded emphatically while slightly out of it from visualizing her beloved liege dashingly deploying said abilities in battle. Aina’noa agreed with an excited warble.

“Does he really need them, though?” Little Alshunna replied. “When he already has the three of us?”

Unlike the other two, the Demon Lord had not been with Sol long and therefore remained unfamiliar with the kinds of things that got normal boys excited. The way she saw it, her liege already possessed far greater strength and had three legendary monsters at his beck and call, so his desire for the unique skills seemed pointless. There was nothing those skills could do that wasn’t already possible for the trio.

“That’s not the point, is it, Sol?” Julia grinned, not to tease him but because she understood how his mind worked, having known him for practically all her life. Unbeknownst to her, there also was a dash of longing in her face, a pining for an alternate reality where Sol had only received a talent on the level of Absolutus or Unlimited Sword Glint and the other members of Black Tiger had received talents matching their respective roles, such that they would still be together today.

Being attuned with her, Sol simply laughed in reply. He, too, had entertained the thought.

“I would love to see it as well,” said Frederica.

“Me too!” Eliza agreed.

These two were clearly on Luna’s side. They had no intention of denying their newly discovered joy at having their abilities fully understood and employed to maximum effect, but they also very much wanted to see the boy they liked openly playing the part of a hero. Before, they wouldn’t have said this out loud no matter how much they thought it, worried that they would be hitting a sore spot. But after learning he could join with Luna and “equip” her Astral—and her Augoeides, when it was eventually fully released—they no longer had any qualms about expressing their desire to see him take center stage. No unique skill even came close to being a match for using the All Dragon as god regalia. And it certainly didn’t hurt that it pleased said dragon to hear about her liege being imagined in such a light.

“Whaaat? I think being a commander suits Sol best, though.” Reen, who had longed to be a tank since childhood, was deeply attached to the idea of being the one to protect her commander and lover. She had offered to quit as an adventurer when Black Tiger disbanded solely because she didn’t want to be a burden to him as he chased his dream, but if she had the ability to keep up, she wanted to remain his shield to the very end. She still felt that way. The fact that her abilities had been given to her by the one she loved more than fulfilled her maiden heart, leaving her little interest in being a damsel who needed to be protected in battle.

Moreover, she was feeling very content with all the time she had been spending with Sol day and night lately. At heart, Reen was a girl who would much rather have the boy she loved say, “I’m counting on you” and trust her to watch his back rather than standing before her saying, “I won’t let you get hurt!” She already had her fill of being treated like a girl by Sol at night—so much so that she sometimes wanted him to get a little rougher, but she was definitely never telling him that.

“A girl’s heart is a complicated thing indeed,” said Julia sagely, gleaning the intricacies of her friend’s emotions. Despite her serious tone, however, she sneaked up on Reen from behind and lightly bit her neck where she had asked for healing just this morning.

Reen jumped with a yelp at suddenly being attacked where she was weakest when her guard was completely down. She had thought Sol was the only person who knew, and it had completely slipped her mind that she had revealed it to Julia when asking her to get rid of the mark.

Knowing that a counterattack was coming, Julia was already dashing ahead into the darkness, and Reen promptly gave chase without saying a word. This behavior would normally be unthinkable in a dungeon, especially on a triple-digit floor, but Sol and Luna’s silence provided reassurance that the immediate area was safe.

Instead, Sol simply chuckled at the shenanigans he was getting used to and noted, “It really is just a straight path, looks like.”

The braziers ahead were lighting up in response to Julia and Reen shooting past at superhuman speeds in their game of chase, showing that the ceiling was not angling down nor were there any branches opening to the side.

From her position half a step behind, Frederica suggested, “Maybe this really is the lowest floor.”

“I think it likely too. I’ve never seen a floor like it. But...” Sol lowered his gaze to Luna, who was holding his left hand and cheerily swinging it.

Luna smiled up at him. “I don’t sense my organa anywhere near.”

“And there you have it,” said Sol, shrugging.

It was unthinkable that the All Dragon was wrong. After all, she was the one who had insisted that one of the organas stolen from her—her wings—lay at the very bottom of Abyss. Since she was sure that it remained in this dungeon but wasn’t on this floor, it seemed safe to conclude they had not reached the end yet.

Then again, it wasn’t as though Sol or Frederica cared all that much whether it was the lowest floor or not. There was no time limit on their search, so if there were more floors, they simply would keep going. They were running out of restaurants to try out at night, but there were a few they certainly wouldn’t mind visiting again. They could cycle through them until settling on a favorite.

As Sol and Frederica agreed through eye contact that they were in no hurry, a decidedly un-maidenly cry that sounded like “Gwahhh!” rang out, suggesting that Julia had been caught by Reen. There was no telling who had built such a massive and stately dungeon, but they surely never imagined such a lighthearted shriek reverberating through these halls.

Just in case, Sol sent a wholehearted apology to the creator of this world, just in case He existed.

◇◆◇◆◇

“Interesting. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this.” Sol shot a look at Luna and Little Alshunna. “Are the lowest floors in all dungeons like this?”

After an hour of walking without encountering any more monsters, Sol’s group reached the far end of the floor. Before them stood a pair of doors so tall they disappeared into the darkness beyond the braziers’ light, presumably reaching the unseen ceiling. The height was clearly excessive for humans, suggesting that the doors were meant to be used by something appropriately tall. This, however, was at odds with the fact that everything had been human-sized so far. Sol had found himself asking, “Just who was it who built this place?” many times before, and never had he felt more convinced that “God” was the answer. Magic could indeed break all rules of reality, but a pair of doors clearly meant to be opened by something far larger than humans was still a little too much to take in.

Luna said, “Well, dragons don’t go dungeon diving...”

“And no devinian has even gotten this far inside a dungeon,” added Little Alshunna.

The answers from the two who were effectively the heads of their respective races were not particularly revealing. Come to think of it, the idea of a dragon actively making its way through a dungeon was ridiculous, and for some reason, it didn’t seem to suit demihumans either. When it was a demihuman accompanying a human party, however, the sense of oddness faded away, as if the dungeons had been made specifically for humans to conquer. Perhaps when all the dungeons were well and truly cleared, the enigma from the start of Art Thou One Who Adventures—and who could ever forget the line “the dungeons are a door” after reading it!—might finally be resolved.

“In any case, there’s no point just standing here,” said Sol. “We’ve no choice but to press on. Julia, can you buff us, just in case?”

“Sure thing.”

Although his memories of Art Thou One Who Adventures were hidden, what moved him in the face of the unknown was intellectual curiosity toward adventure, not cowardice toward retreat. This nature was why he had been chosen as Player in the first place.

“Luna, Aina’noa, Little Alshunna, be ready for action.”

As the buffs were cast, Sol decided to play it safe and lift his self-imposed restriction on using his monsters. Given how exaggerated the entrance was, a fight was definitely waiting on the other side, either with the boss of Floor 100 or at least an opening act. Either way, it was not to be underestimated.

Regardless of what meaning the dungeons held and what intentions were behind their creation, those who could not defeat the powerful guardians within had no right to any answers. Therefore, the first order of business was to punch everything into submission. That was the way of one who made a living challenging dungeons and territories—the way of an adventurer.

◇◆◇◆◇

The ridiculously large doors started opening slowly exactly ten seconds after Sol’s whole group stepped into the magic circle engraved in the ground before them. They didn’t stop when the gap grew just enough for one person to pass through, as some doors did for effect, but continued, filling the air with an intermittent growl that shook everyone’s chests. The light running every which way across the surface of the doors, and the blinking ancient script, left no doubt everything was, as expected, powered by magic. As the panels swung farther inward, what seemed like detritus built up over an eternity fell off and crashed to the ground, adding to the cacophony.

The darkness beyond the threshold was so absolute that it seemed to swallow the light of the braziers, giving the distinct impression that what lay in wait was nothing less than hell itself. The party had enhanced eyesight, but it was of no use in the complete absence of light. The inky void they were staring into stirred up an instinctive, primordial fear in their hearts. A wise person in their shoes would have immediately known to leave well enough alone.

When the doors fully opened, they fell apart and collapsed in one final din. And yet, the pieces did not pile up on the ground. It was as though there were a floorless perimeter on the other side that led to the true abyss that gave this dungeon its name.

Sol’s group, on high alert, refrained from immediately walking in. Floor bosses were all spawned, not permanently stationed, and the spawning didn’t happen until the room was activated, such as by someone entering it. Sol’s map told him that what lay beyond was an expansive circular space, but there were no red dots in it that indicated hostile presences, increasing the odds that this boss room worked the same way as the others.

Reen, the party tank, used eye contact to check with Sol, then quickly stepped inside. That very instant, a ring of torches installed at regular intervals on the wall came to life with one collective whoosh. They were so numerous that it was impossible to count them with a glance, and yet their flickering flames failed to illuminate the room itself. This suggested that the other side was so far away that the torches on the far wall weren’t visible from the entrance.

More torches flared to life in a rising spiral running counterclockwise, eventually disappearing into the darkness when they got too far away and reappearing a while later when the sequence moved close enough. The phenomenon gradually picked up speed, and before long, the ceiling grew visible.

Just then, a large orb of light wreathed in lightning appeared right under the ceiling in the center, instantaneously throwing the all too spacious boss room in stark relief. As it turned out, every inch of wall was covered in murals depicting history—not only that of this world from its creation to the birth of the dungeons but that of other worlds besides. Sol’s group had no idea what they were looking at, however, and merely stared at the breathtakingly beautiful artwork, mouths hanging open in awe.

The sphere of lightning-clad light descended slowly, pulsing at a consistent tempo. Each time it did, it grew a little larger, and three-dimensional magic circles based on ancient script on the circular wall emerged and slowly began rotating.

“This is amazing!” Rosalind cried, her face glowing with surprise and delight.

Julia chuckled. “Now that’s showy.”

Both Reen and Eliza were simply captivated, with the former saying “Wow...” and the latter “So pretty...”

Frederica, pragmatic as always, noted, “There is no doubt this is the most effort we’ve seen put into a boss encounter.”

All the in-character reactions almost made Sol laugh. As his group had recently learned, all dungeons had bosses on Floor 10 and beyond, and they all spawned with a certain amount of pomp and circumstance. They differed each time, matching not only the boss’s race and distinctive features but also the feel of the coming fight. Sol’s group actually looked forward to these displays, since they could afford to. It was one source of motivation for them to continue the dive, and they had recently taken to discussing their favorites over meals.

Furthermore, the fact that the flashy introductions contained hints about the boss gave Sol the impression that they were meant to help challengers make appropriate preparations. If so, the being who had created the dungeons wanted humans with appropriate levels and gear to engage them. They were not traps to kill those overconfident in their abilities but doors for people to pass through, as suggested by Art Thou One Who Adventures.

“Do you like this kind of thing, my lord?” Luna asked, looking straight into Sol’s eyes.

Still staring with fascination at the spinning magic circles, Sol answered absentmindedly, “They sure set my heart racing.” He had made no effort to evade the question because he saw no need to.

“I...see.” For some reason, the look on Luna’s face turned pensive, and she pulled Aina’noa closer for a very serious discussion.

It was still a mystery to Sol how these two managed to communicate when one of them could only voice melodies. He had asked once, but the answer that Luna had offered went so far over his head that he had promptly given up.

“Luna? Aina’noa?” His familiarity with the monsters told Sol that they were up to no good, and it was not helped by them seeming too occupied to answer him for once.

The doll on his head had no qualms about exposing what they were plotting, though. “My lord,” said Little Alshunna, “I believe you can look forward to rather flamboyant effects the next time the All Dragon forms an Astral or the Elven Queen summons the World Tree.”

Put simply, in seeing their liege being excited about the appearance of a mere floor boss, they were regretting not having made a bigger show of summoning their own avatars of power before and were brainstorming how to do better next time.

“Uh...”

The silliness astounded Sol, but he had to admit that he was curious about what they would come up with. And he wasn’t alone. Cool was justice as much as cute was justice.

The laid-back conversation was cut short as the sphere descended nearly close enough to reach and assumed a cocoon shape as the lightning crackling across its surface increased in intensity. The magic circles on the walls had also slid down as far as they could go.

“All right, the opening ceremony is over and the boss is actually spawning now,” Sol announced. “We have 180 seconds until full manifestation. Here’s the countdown.”

He shared the countdown, which Player had automatically started, with his party members, then commanded, “Reen, Julia, Frederica, Eliza, Rosalind: Deploy your Numbers armaments and assume your usual formation.”

Everyone cheerily acknowledged the order in their own way, and a storm of mana in each person’s signature colors—azure for Reen, pink for Julia, pure white for Frederica, crimson for Eliza, and silver for Rosalind—whipped up around them. They must have voiced the keywords they had each chosen, but Sol pretended not to hear them, as usual.

Moreover, their transformation left them wearing nothing but their foundation suits in a brief window when all their usual gear was in storage but their armaments had yet to appear; however, Sol made a conscious effort to keep his eyes on the boss during that time. This was helped by the fact that at night, he was already seeing each of them in turn with appearances far more titillating than the foundation suits. Of course, what happened there hardly made the transformation less embarrassing, but it was far more crucial that Sol started giving serious thought to how he wanted to treat the other girls besides Reen.

In any case, everyone finished transforming in a matter of seconds, then positioned themselves in their default formation. Reen, the tank, stood in the center and closest to the spawning boss; Julia, the healer, fell back to stand with Sol, the commander; and Frederica, Eliza, and Rosalind, attackers with different specialties, formed a three-point perimeter around the target.

As an aside, the definition of a Numbers armament had received a fundamental revision over the past month, making Rosalind’s Type Rodem one too. The new numbers were as follows: Reen’s was Number One, Julia’s was Number Two, Eliza’s was Number Three, Frederica’s was Number Four, and lastly, Rosalind’s was Number Five. Frederica had suggested periodically updating the numbering, making it a system to rank the members of Libertadores, but the idea had been turned down. Sol liked the trope, but he didn’t want to have to apply a grading criteria to his closest companions. Luna expressed great enthusiasm for the concept, as hierarchies really spoke to her, but it was ultimately decided that the armaments would be set based on the order in which everyone had joined the group. Number Six and beyond remained undetermined, with there being plans for a reevaluation of all armaments when Abyss was fully conquered, at which point all members of Libertadores would have received their own personalized equipment.

Steve and Ishli had been rather resistant to the idea, as they truly did not think themselves capable of combat. However, they didn’t have much of a case when Eliza, Johan, Louise, and even Rosalind were giving it their all. Being an adult was surprisingly difficult at times.

Sol was quite enthusiastic about the idea of going dungeon diving with Steve and Ishli. Gawain was amenable to it, whereas Ethelweld, who had already officially passed on his crown, had submitted a petition asking to participate. Sol had already been thinking about forming a second party of just guys, so it was fortuitous timing. In fact, this party would indeed be created at a later date, composed of the group known as the “Four Dons of Libertadores”—Gawain, Steve, Ishli, and Ethelweld—and former Istekarian emperor Fritz and Creed of the devinians. This would in turn lead to Ethelweld’s adventurer companions from back in the day joining Libertadores too, but that story is from further down the line.

Returning to the present, the cocoon of light had suddenly stopped pulsing, with the lightning disappearing just as abruptly. Light gathered toward the center of the mass as cracks appeared in its surface and fragments started melting away. The floating figure within slowly spread its eighteen wings as it gradually came into full view.

“Enemy analysis has started. Sharing that too... Whoa, this one is really beefy.” As usual, Sol was doing this as a part of the prep work before fighting a floor boss, but he couldn’t help being surprised by the numbers he was seeing.

Frederica shared his sentiment. “An HP barrier strength of 28,000 is far more than double what we’ve seen before.”

The term “beefy” was adventurer slang for monsters with tough HP barriers that would take a long time to whittle down before they could be harmed directly. Of course, normal adventurers had no way to quantify a monster’s HP like Sol did, but they could get a general sense of it based on experience, and such information was usually shared through the Adventurer’s Guild. Keeping track of what skills and spells and how many of them one’s party had landed on a monster was one of the basics of being an adventurer. How many HP points a single attack dealt could vary greatly based on elemental weakness and individual differences, so one shouldn’t be overly reliant on such information, but having a rough benchmark was better than being completely in the dark. A party could then look at the resources they had on hand and make the call to avoid the encounter or, if avoidance wasn’t possible, how best to make a tactical retreat. Rather than wasting supplies on a fight they couldn’t win, they could focus on creating an opening to slip away. Such split-second decisions could easily determine life or death in a dungeon or territory.

There wasn’t yet a common term for monsters that, even without their HP, could withstand serious punishment with their physical bodies, as Sol’s group was the only one that had fought such enemies so far. However, boss monsters outside of Abyss had HP barriers of at most a few thousand. Even Country Eater, the most feared taboo territory boss, had not broken ten thousand, and neither had any of the floor bosses until now. Sol was understandably taken aback by the sight of a number above twenty thousand. Simple math dictated the coming fight would last at least twice as long. Considering the party’s HP, MP, and other resources that they could convert into damage, this was definitely an opponent to be wary of.

At least, without the benefits of Player in the equation.

“Its MP has also jumped higher than thirty thousand,” Eliza gasped. She understood that since the Floor 99 boss had only had around ten thousand, this one would be able to keep going three times longer, or else it possessed attacks that required that much more MP.

The fact that Frederica and Eliza could draw these predictions based on the information they were seeing and raise their guard appropriately proved they had become far stronger than the average veteran adventurer. Sol, Reen, and Julia felt proud of them and, at the same time, chagrined that they had caught up in such a short time.

“It’s so biiig!” In contrast, this comment from Rosalind, filled with pure astonishment devoid of any despair, was heartwarming.

The enemy was indeed big, but the observation was very on-the-nose and not helpful at all in the middle of a battle when every second counted. This group, however, had the leisure to entertain the aside and therefore found her adorable.

“Rosalind,” said Blue Water reproachfully. It was uncertain whether this admonition was because she could not yet understand the rules of exchanging information during a battle or her unregal word choice. Based on the fact that Blue Water stopped short of clarifying, the latter seemed more likely.

Julia, who had caught both meanings and wanted to indirectly show Blue Water that the group had the leeway for some levity, cheerfully asked, “How’s it look, Reen?”

Keeping her eye on the boss, Reen replied calmly, “Hard to say. I would appreciate having a backup if the first attack breaks through my Seven Shield Column, though.”

Her plan was to bring out her most defensive move right off the bat, but she was willing to rely on Sol’s monsters if the situation proved beyond her abilities. “Break through” was the party’s term for taking an attack so powerful that it surpassed the skills and magic protecting Reen to deplete her HP barrier. Conversely, they used “penetrate” for when their own attacks got through to directly harm a monster.

“Got it. Luna, summon an Astral immediately if Reen’s Seven Shield Column is broken through. You can counterattack right away and, if you like, devour the boss too.”

“Understood, my lord!”

Sol was of the same mind as Reen. They wanted to win this encounter by fighting normally, but if it proved difficult, there was no need to stay in harm’s way. A fight was still on as long as the tank was holding the line, but when the tank fell, it would be only a matter of time until the rest of the party crumbled. No matter how much more powerful Sol made everyone else, it didn’t change how important the role was. Be it the traditional type like Reen, who would stop everything, or the type who would evade and parry everything, the purpose of a tank was to take on all incoming attacks on behalf of the party. Those on the back line weren’t equipped to evade or endure attacks, and one that even a tank couldn’t handle would be devastating for other roles. In this way, they were the linchpin of all fights.

In light of this, the moment Reen and Sol both determined that a situation was out of hand, the smart thing to do was to promptly send in their most powerful asset, the All Dragon. Moreover, if the enemy was truly powerful enough to break through Reen’s current defense, the experience and loot that could be obtained from defeating it was worth less than having the All Dragon use her ability to make its strength her own. Since Rodem could also absorb the monster’s characteristics from her scraps, the number of situations where stealing an enemy’s abilities took priority would likely increase going forward.

“I think we’ll be just fine,” said Sol, “but it’s true that angel-type monsters are rather annoying. Reen, it’s almost fully materialized!”

“Okay!”

When all eighteen wings fully opened, the boss was, as expected, revealed to be an angel-type. Perhaps the man-made angels that the Old Rulers had deployed had been attempts at replicating them. Facing such an enormous specimen was a first even for Sol. That said, he knew from having faced this kind of monster before that they were difficult opponents who knew better than to blindly rush in and would employ both magic and skills. Their strength was proportional to the number of wings they had, and one with eighteen wings was sure to be a troublesome opponent.

The moment Sol announced the boss’s full materialization, Reen activated Intimidate and got confirmation that it had taken hold. If Intimidate had failed to seize the boss’s attention, the fight would have devolved into an all-out brawl with no structure at all. Therefore, it was important to inform the rest of the party that this wasn’t the case.

“Intimidate worked on it! Seven Shield Column is deployed, and aggro is fixed on Axis Nine!”

When a boss was in the middle of spawning, it was impervious to all attacks, so the first attack had to wait until it had fully materialized. Being flustered and missing that attack would be a waste of MP and leave the skill on cooldown, on top of giving the enemy the initiative. Therefore, the ability to know exactly when a boss fight was starting, though not glamorous, was extremely crucial.

Reen had gotten the timing down perfectly when activating Intimidate, successfully anchoring the boss’s target to Axis Nine, her largest shield. The fight was off to a good start. The other six shields, each specialized to deal with a different element, were also primed and ready and positioned so that even if they were destroyed in one blow, the attack that hit them wouldn’t strike her fellow party members, who were safely out of the line of fire.

This whole procedure was the essence of her job as a tank. Now that the enemy had been robbed of the freedom to choose which target to attack, even its most powerful moves couldn’t be used to full effect, either being dashed against shields they couldn’t break through or, if they did break through, being expended on decoys. The inability to go after the weakest members of the party, such as the healer, was a huge handicap.

But humans weren’t the only ones who could forcibly redirect what an opponent targeted. Every so often, extremely powerful monsters manifested the same ability. Simple attacks performed with one’s own physical strength were understandably unaffected by such power, but skills and magic converted from mana had no escape. In other words, defeating such monsters required both powerful techniques and spells that could break through anything, no matter how tough, as well as the ability to handle countless decoys.

Or one could rely on monsters of legend. Perhaps that was the very reason for the existence of the All Dragon, the Elven Queen, and the Demon Lord. If monster aggro was effectively the same thing as human targeting, that would make monsters the equivalent of arrows nocked in a particular entity’s bow. It was only a matter of time before Sol reached this answer. Before he needed to reach this answer. But for that to happen, he had to defeat the enemy before him.

“First attack is a long-range light beam! Charging complete in three, two— What?”

A shattering sound suddenly rang out, erasing all other noise in the chamber. At the same time, the intertwined halo writhing over the angel’s head that was clearly building up for a big attack—“Septem Doctrine,” according to Player—disappeared along with all traces of the spell. The very moment before it was fired, the large attack had been fully nullified in one blow.

As everyone shared Sol’s surprise, the sound from earlier simultaneously rang out five more times, resulting in one combined note that only those with exceptional hearing could tell apart. Each signified another attack from the angel that had been foiled, for a total of five.

This was not the doing of anyone in Sol’s party, and there was no hint as to whose power it was, as Sol’s window still showed only one red dot.

“The boss’s HP went down to 27,994,” Sol noted, looking around warily.

This proved the interloper had used the typical strategy of interfering with the angel’s attacks with proper ones of their own. Considering these attacks’ track record of six for six and ability to nick the monster’s HP by at least one point of damage, depending on their activation speed, range, and cooldown, they could pose a threat capable of completely shutting an opponent down. If it had multitargeting, its user would win the moment they seized the initiative in a fight. In fact, it wasn’t just a possibility; if Player had such an attack, the outcome would be set in stone.

Consequently, Sol was instantly on full alert. “Watch out in all directions!” he shouted just as 27,994 flying slashes descended on the floor boss.

The sound of all those cuts slashing at an invisible wall reverberated like one muffled, prolonged note, accompanied by the flashes of them landing. This filled the entire room with a blinding light that lasted until the floor boss’s beefy HP barrier had been whittled down to zero.

Silence returned along with everyone’s vision. They saw the recently manifested boss floating helplessly in the air, completely stripped of its HP barrier and stun-locked by the barrage it had just suffered. The next moment, another storm of slashes assaulted the monster. It had no way of protecting itself, so this time, what rang out wasn’t a clear, high-pitched sound, but the grisly squelch of flesh being rent. The boss practically exploded into a cloud of blood and meat that fell to the ground as red goop.

Sol’s group looked up in a daze at the humanoid figure clad in a white cloak with a deep hood that had taken its place. Now that the boss’s large red dot was gone, a new red dot was visible, leaving no doubt that the interloper was hostile.

This was the very first encounter between Sol Rock, the host of Player for this era and thus the current Wayside God, and one of the Wards, a nexus entity like Sol who had been struck down and was now charged with sealing away others like it.

There was no place more fitting for this than the very bottom floor of Abyss, one of the Four Great Dungeons.

Chapter 6: The Wards

“That...was Unlimited Sword Glint,” groaned Rodem, the preeminent authority on the Crystanian royal family’s bloodline skill.

The unidentified enemy was currently looking down on Sol’s party from midair. The high ground didn’t give him any significant advantage in light of the aerial mobility that magic imparted, but losing it before the fight had even begun felt uncomfortable, to put it mildly.

Reen and the others were quite sure they could have beaten the boss alone too, but not before the fight deteriorated into a mudslinging match where both sides whaled on each other in a race to bottom out the other’s HP barrier. The whole party working together could have clinched a clean victory, but even so, it would have taken significantly longer than an instant, which was how quickly the boss had actually died. No human was capable of pulling off such a feat, no matter how high their level. It belonged to the domain of legends like the All Dragon, the Elven Queen, and the Demon Lord.

Of course, Rosalind and Rodem had a hundred thousand slashes in store that could do the same thing. Each hit was imbued with a brief instant of stun lock that, with a single clean hit, would leave a target with no choice but to hunker down and weather the rest until they let up or ran out. At least, that was the case for those protected by HP barriers.

Of those present, Sol was unique in that he would die from catching a single flying slash. This weapon that had been of middling utility in his party’s arsenal was proving to be a surprisingly potent threat for its ability to directly target him, the party’s linchpin and weakness.

Additionally, just like Absolutus had the hidden effect of fully nullifying an attack beyond its defensive capabilities before shattering, Unlimited Sword Glint had its own hidden effect: No matter how beefy a target was, each slash was guaranteed to deal at least one point of HP damage on top of stunning the target.

Mana limits kept the former from being absolute, and more grievously, reserves spoke to the latter not being truly unlimited. Theoretically, these were obstacles that could be overcome, thereby perfecting the two skills. There was no way to say for sure that Sol was the only person capable of doing this, and there was no knowing how a perfected version might differ from what Rosalind had at the moment. For all the group knew, the interloper’s version might be able to directly harm even those protected by HP barriers. All things considered, it was best to be cautious.

More importantly, there was a matter of greater concern than the specific mechanics of the skill.

“That can only mean,” Rodem continued, “that we’re facing a product of our bloodline. More specifically, it can only be the last heir of Unlimited Sword Glint, who disappeared before inheriting Ruler’s Wisdom two centuries ago.”

No heir had appeared since, and it was now clear why: The last one had been alive this whole time. All nine generations had been pretending to have inherited it using the stock that remained inside Blue Water, like Rosalind had been planning to do. This revelation was as much a surprise to Blue Water as it was to anyone else.

As if to further drive home the shock, the figure pulled back his hood to bare his face. “It has been a while, esteemed ancestors. I never thought I would be meeting those of my homeland again after becoming a Ward. Your appearance has changed quite drastically since our last meeting.”

“Salyu Magica Crystania...”

The man whom Rodem identified as Salyu had wavy locks of ash-silver hair in the same shade as Rosalind’s, and his kind yet willful eyes also were pale silver like hers. Together with his shapely features and porcelain skin, it was clear to those who knew the signs that he carried the blood of Crystania’s royal family.

Nostalgia flashed across the interloper’s face, but he promptly said, “I actually discarded that name two hundred years ago. Now I officially go by Ward IX. You read it as ‘Novem’ but write it with an ‘I’ and an ‘X.’ Feel free to casually call me Novem.” His smile indicated that his white-hooded cloak and the crimson “IX” it bore were all that he was now.

What does that name mean? thought Sol. If he really is the ninth Ward, whatever that is, that means there are at least eight more like him. In the worst-case scenario, there is a chance all eight might join him before long. If I were them, that’s how I’d handle our group.

He shook his head to switch gears. Such musings could wait until after he defeated IX or when the other eight Wards actually appeared. If this was an opponent that could defeat the All Dragon, the Elven Queen, and the Demon Lord together, any reinforcements he summoned now would only add to the list of casualties.

“Are you...my ancestor?” asked Rosalind with hope in her voice.

IX had defeated the boss on the group’s behalf and wasn’t being overbearing or belligerent. Moreover, he was an adult who looked like her. As a seven-year-old who had lost her parents and had no living family, it was understandable that she wanted him to be a friend.

“Right, if Blue Water is here, it makes sense that an heir is too.” A slight wistfulness colored IX’s smile. “Ah, yes, I see my older sister in you. Oh, the memories.”

Rosalind was still visible through Rodem’s semitransparent body, though being enveloped in it made for an odd sight. It made sense that she bore a resemblance to IX’s sister, who had continued the bloodline after IX’s disappearance.

Julia asked, “Does that mean you’re over two hundred years old?”

“Not even we get to live forever.” IX shook his head with a self-depracating grin. “We retain our youthful looks, like the elves do, but no human body can live for two hundred years. Normally, I’m asleep, and for some reason, that stops me from aging. This is the third time I’ve been woken since becoming a Ward. I’m guessing the previous time was seventy years ago, based on the number you mentioned.”

His easy manner was coming from a place of superiority. He wasn’t being belligerent because he wasn’t taking Sol’s group seriously—they weren’t worth the emotional effort. Everyone other than Rosalind caught this undertone in the deceptively relaxed mood in the room and raised their guard even further.

“I’m sure a lot has changed in that time.” IX smirked, looking completely unconcerned by the All Dragon’s rage-filled glare. In spite of his words and expression, his scorn was seeping through, propped up by a certainty that the world would never change no matter how much time passed.

After all, the Wards were called on to nip all significant changes in the bud. They existed for the sole purpose of warding off nexus beings from beyond and their agents. IX had every confidence that the Wards were doing a perfect job of shielding this world from such intruders and that the world did not have the ability to change on its own.

“It has, actually. Crystania has been restored and Atriesta rebuilt,” said Rodem, intentionally choosing what it thought would best get a rise out of IX. The memories from the fall of Atriesta and the destruction of Crystania remained fresh in its mind, but it did not lay the blame for what had happened at Salyu’s feet, though he had been pronounced a nexus being by the Wards at the time. That said, he was not only showing no sign of having been coerced into joining the Wards, but he even sounded proud when naming himself one of them. That changed things.

“What? Is that even poss—?” IX looked surprised but then said softly, “Well, someone capable of forcing it to happen would explain my presence here.”

He had been nowhere as powerful when being chased down as a nexus being, and the same went for the two beings he himself had dealt with. Though he did not doubt that he still held an absolute advantage thanks to the power he had been given as Ward IX, there was now a little recognition in his eye when he looked at Sol.

“Lord Sol’s power made it possible,” Rodem said, then adopted a goading tone. “So what is someone who abandoned his homeland to take up the ridiculous title of Ward Novem here for?”

“I’m here to ‘ward off’ the latest nexus being, of course,” IX replied, cracks showing in the veneer of his composure. “That’s what we do, which is why we’re called Wards and allowed to continue living.”

“Let me get this straight,” Rodem growled. “When other Wards appeared, calling you a nexus being, and erased the entire western part of the continent, including Crystania, you bent the knee to them and became their lapdog. And now, you want to kill the one who gave us back our homeland. Do I have that right, you knave?”

Two centuries ago, when the Wards had suddenly appeared and condemned Crystania’s crown prince, demanding that he be handed over to be warded off, the entire country had taken up arms. There was no denying this decision was partly motivated by their pride as the continent’s greatest power and the head of the federation of the seven countries in the west. More crucially, Crystania had believed that its crown prince, who possessed a massive inner mana pool and his family’s bloodline skill, would unseal territories, clear dungeons, and otherwise better the world. And the country did not take kindly to the Wards showing up to throw their weight around and belittle their hopes and dreams.

It was a pity they had lost, but Blue Water had come to terms with it. A real fight wasn’t one that you could choose to engage in only if you were sure of victory. It was a choice made when two sides had something they simply could not compromise on and were resolved to see it through or die trying. At least, that was how Rodem saw it, thus its anger with Salyu.

“Oof, you sure know how to make a man feel bad.” IX shrugged nonchalantly. “I had no choice back then, just as I have no choice now. That said, you have every right to criticize me for it, and I’m willing to accept it all with grace. I am, after all, now Ward Novem—that is, the enemy to The Boy Who Will End the World.”

After declaring him a nexus being, the Wards had tried to get at him by inciting Country Eater to raze all seven countries in the west, including Crystania, and twisted history by pinning the blame on one of them and making them out to be a traitor to humanity. As a result, countless people had died and even more had lost their homes and become drifters.

And yet, IX was saying all this had been unavoidable. Something had happened to change him from Crown Prince Salyu, who had rallied the entire west in resistance, to Ward IX.

“You worm, did you just declare yourself my liege’s enemy?” Luna, of course, didn’t care about any of this background. As far as she was concerned, anyone who aligned themselves against the person she had given her true name to was a dead person walking, regardless of their reason or justification. Morality had no bearing in this matter. The All Dragon’s intense bloodlust imposed silence even on those on her side, filling the air so thickly they couldn’t move a muscle.

Surprisingly, IX looked unaffected. He merely smirked and said tauntingly, “So what if I did, Evil Dragon Lunvemt Nachtfelia? You monsters have no hope of beating us Wards. That’s why you were bound for all this time in all those creative little ways. The moment you refused to join us and chose to remain mere monsters, you ceased to be relevant.”

His voice had a negative tone that went beyond hostility to actual malice. His repulsion toward Luna eclipsed the caution he had shown toward Sol, the one he was actually there for. It was likely he knew what had happened to the Evil Dragon, the Elven Queen, and the Demon Lord all those years ago, including how they had come to be bound. Based on that knowledge, he had determined they were no threat to him, as he was confident history would repeat itself. Thus his condescension.

“You want to test that?” Luna bared her canines in a fierce grin. The violence threatening to burst out cast her youthful and breathtakingly beautiful features in a strange light that strongly impressed on those watching that she was indeed inhuman—that she was a monster.

If two sides thought each other beyond forgiveness, further attempts at mediation were a waste of time and effort. The only possible resolution was the complete annihilation of one side. And if they were both subscribers to the usage of brute force, there was no place in the struggle for strength in other forms, such as words.

Pure energy crackled furiously around and within the torrent of mana leaking like a burst dam from Luna’s diminutive form, and every inch of her demeanor screamed her resolve to erase all that stood in her way. She couldn’t have cared less that IX was a Ward or that he possessed Unlimited Sword Glint. Regardless of what his conceit was based on, she had every confidence that she would not fall victim to a move she had already seen once. That said, she was not kind enough to grant an instant death to someone who had dared called themselves an enemy of the liege she could no longer live without. That was why, instead of summoning an Astral, she lowered her center of gravity and tensed up her legs to leap at IX and tear him apart with her bare hands.

“I see. It’s clear there’s still a lot we have to learn.” Sol sighed and plopped his right hand on Luna’s head, then proceeded to muss up her hair. Her bloodlust instantaneously dissipated as she looked up at him and protested with a flushed face, but when he gave the base of her snapped horn a little squeeze, she jolted and promptly fell silent.

Seeing that, Aina’noa circled around to Sol’s left side and pushed her own head into his left hand, and Little Alshunna heaved her customary sigh from her perch on his head. Luna had gone limp, like her soul had left her body, thereby completely yielding Sol the floor. The girls gave them all the side-eye for the sudden laid-back mood while also feeling impressed by Sol’s ability to pull it off with such ease.

Even IX, who had been a split second away from casting Unlimited Sword Glint, couldn’t help but be stunned at the development. He obviously knew that Sol was the nexus being he was after and knew exactly what the three monsters were—perhaps even better than they themselves did. Since he had rushed here directly after awakening, he had had no time to find out what year it was or what had happened since the last time he had been deployed. All he knew was that this was the very bottom of Abyss, one of the Four Great Dungeons, as well as what would be revealed to those who made it through Floor 100 and reached the very last door. He, Ward IX, had been deployed to prevent that from happening and to seal away the being who possessed the strength to fully conquer Abyss.

He most certainly had not been briefed to expect the Evil Dragon, who did not fear even God; the Elven Queen, who controlled the mana that filled the world; and the Demon Lord, the quintessential enemy of humanity—never mind them all acting subserviently to Sol. It was like they were pets and he was their beloved master, and that made no sense at all to IX. The mass of bloodlust from earlier was the embodiment of what he had imagined the Evil Dragon to be based on all he had heard, and the contrast to what he was seeing now gave him figurative whiplash, temporarily robbing him of the ability to form coherent speech.

“You... What? Huh?”

Taking the dazed utterance as an invitation to introduce himself, Sol said, “Hi, I’m Sol Rock. I’m the one who freed these three. To borrow your naming sense, I’m the Boy Who Rules the Monsters.”

He made sure his smile was just right—not too small but not too big, just enough to be cordial. However, the final comment betrayed his displeasure at having been called “The Boy Who Will End the World.”

“I’m not so sure I agree with what you said before, though...uh, Novem, was it? I haven’t the faintest clue why you thought you had no choice, but I do have a word to say about how you, kept asleep for two hundred years, characterized Luna’s thousand years of suffering conscious and in chains.”

What Sol was even more displeased with—in fact, what he was furious about—was the way IX had spoken earlier. Sol welcomed being underestimated and wasn’t someone who would rise to cheap provocation. However, it was a personal choice to join the Wards after losing to them, and it galled Sol to hear Salyu mocking Luna for choosing differently and staying true to herself even in the face of death.

IX balked slightly. “What, are you saying they’re the same?” He apparently thought Sol was contending that all losers were losers, and that if both Luna and he had been cut off from the world, the exact details of their situations made little difference. This got under IX’s skin precisely because, deep down, a part of him actually agreed, even though he was so sure he had chosen the winning side.

Sol frowned. “Definitely not. One capitulated and was put to sleep, and one continued struggling even while going mad. There’s no way to say which is objectively right, but they are complete opposites.”

Some believed that when someone lost, they were duty bound to submit to their victor and serve them. This, too, could be considered a dignified way of life. One could see how such people would regard with ridicule and scorn another person who, after losing, chose to continue resisting, even to the point of suffering the consequences. Even so, the two were not the same. To equate them would just be wrong. And there was no place for one to judge and belittle the other, because they were both equally valid ways to live one’s life.

“My lord...” Hearing her usually composed liege growing angry on her behalf made Luna’s face melt with bliss and set her tail wagging so hard it seemed at risk of falling off.

Morality was important too, but the most important thing among companions was to share the same values. Regardless of how a group first met, be it calculated self-interest, simple inspiration, physical attraction, or even misplaced idolization, after their initial encounter, values were what determined whether the relationship could develop other qualities, such as trust, affection, and perhaps even love.

“You...dare?” IX gritted his teeth with barely suppressed anger. He was incensed at being called a mere traitor with a holier-than-thou attitude and at the sheer audacity of Sol passing judgment on him despite not knowing his story.

“Come on, don’t lose your composure so easily. You’re the strongest person in the room, aren’t you? Speaking of which, even if you have something up your sleeve that makes it impossible for Luna to beat you, we humans can do it ourselves. That’s what my power Player is for.”

Sol had never known Salyu, so he couldn’t tell if IX was letting through real emotions that he had been trying to hide or if the IX persona was a mask and the true Salyu was showing through. Either way, although it had been a while since he’d last faced an opponent that wasn’t a monster, this was clearly a kill-or-be-killed situation.

Seeing that his opponent was willing to talk before the fight, however, Sol wanted to obtain as much information from him as possible. There was a new magic tool that should help with that, which Gawain, inspired by Blue Water, had spent the past month developing. Sol didn’t know how effective it would be, as it wasn’t something that could be casually taken for a trial run. Though the monsters were his trump card, he was leery of sending them up against an opponent who was confident in the contingency plan he had prepared for them. Therefore, before doing so, he wanted to play it safe and first expose as many of IX’s cards as he could using his human party.

Instead of becoming angrier, however, IX reverted to being condescending and sighed. “All humans are truly incorrigible creatures. The arrogance to believe you, with your borrowed power, can defeat me, a Ward! Then again, I was you once, so I suppose it would be a little unfair to give you a hard time for it.”

The inability to take criticism for one’s chosen way of life often suggested shame, but apparently the tongue-in-cheek stroking of his ego had restored his mood.

“All humans? You Wards have risen above it all, then. The amount of time you’ve observed us is long enough to be called history, so I’m sure you know best. We should be thankful you don’t strike us all down where we stand.”

What Sol was taking issue with was IX taking what he had said about himself and generalizing it to apply to the entire human race.

“The way I think is just that: the way I think. Which is why I have no intention of changing.” Sol was determined to stick to his guns even if it led to his death and, in turn, the destruction of the world. After having been given such overwhelming strength, there wasn’t a chance he would give up on his dream for some sanctimonious cause like saving the world and spend the majority of his life sleeping like IX was doing. The choice that IX had made most certainly wasn’t one that everyone else would, but someone who would generalize at the drop of a hat sounded exactly like the kind of person who would expect the rest of the world to share his views.

In the first place, Sol highly doubted the self-proclaimed Game Master he had met would stand for such a development. He thought it very likely that, should his group lose to IX after truly throwing everything they had at him, they would find a lifeline that had been prepared for them on the other side. This ability that he was unconsciously developing to think from a meta point of view was going to give him a very big leg up in future encounters with beings from outside this world, but that was neither here nor there at the moment.

IX lowered his eyes ruefully and said, like a teacher to a disappointing student, “Ah, so you’re trying to argue that not all humans are a lost cause. Many in the past have championed that rhetoric.”

He was misinterpreting Sol’s words as a heroic protest, an impassioned “Humans can change! They can surprise you with the potential they hold!” directed at a transcendental being who was passing judgment on humanity based on a dry, bare-bones understanding of the species’ history.

There was nothing wrong with that. Any group with a member who used to be an enemy but had managed to overcome their anger and despair and move on to fight for the sake of the world could serve as an example of the human ability to change. However, once again, generalization did this narrative no favors. It was down to each person to change or not, which was in no way representative of humanity as a whole. Regardless of the moral direction of that change, it was down to each person to change or not.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. If it was up to me, I would trim the number down to the bare minimum.” With his worldview, Sol had no interest in using his power to become mankind’s savior or leader. He would be satisfied if he had enough allies to fill Garlaige. What he wanted to “trim down” was the number of those he acknowledged as companions, but that didn’t mean he was going to actively seek out and wipe out those who did not fit the criteria.

“Uh...number of what?” asked IX.

“Hm? People, of course.”

“What?!”

Since Sol wasn’t clearly expressing himself, it sounded like he had just declared his intention to massacre everyone not on his side. The matter-of-fact way in which he voiced it understandably alarmed IX, whose duty as a Ward was to protect the world.

“I don’t really care about nonhuman concerns either, like the animals or the natural environment. Not even the planet itself, to be frank. And I care a lot less about my so-called responsibility to the future of mankind than how my friends and I can live happily in the here and now.”

Sol felt this was a good opportunity to make his stance clear, since IX had so boldly introduced the Wards as those charged with saving this world. What he was saying would have perturbed anyone who was educated, not just the Wards. Many of the masses subscribed to the idea that humans were superior to all life and had a duty to guide everything toward improvement.

“See now, that way of thinking is—”

“If you mean to call me an enemy of the world, I won’t argue it.” Sol chuckled. “You are well within your rights to eliminate me. That said, I simply cannot bring myself to sacrifice my dreams and the happy life I’m enjoying with my companions for some cause I neither understand nor am invested in.”

There was no end to the number of people who espoused pretty ideals, but humans still starved to death in winter, slums kept cropping up, and refugees never found a place they could settle down in. On the contrary, what was the norm was people squabbling over habitable land and countries waging war on each other. And that was despite there being countless individuals living in the lap of luxury.

Again and again, those in power all insisted that reality was removed from ideals and that there simply wasn’t anything that could be done about it. In fact, it wasn’t just them. The same was true of the so-called middle class, who could save many of the downtrodden by being even a little bit frugal.

Sol wasn’t really out to censure such people. He was one of them, after all. What he wanted was to merely use the enormous power that had fallen into his lap for himself and those important to him. He felt no obligation to attempt, as a complete layman, what actual heads of state had failed to accomplish. In so many words, he considered the whole noblesse oblige matter to not be his problem.

“Who the hell do you think you are?!”

“Honestly, even I don’t know.”

IX’s anger was justified for one who was supposed to protect the world, but it failed to move Sol at all. No matter what anyone said, he was not going to yield on this point and therefore saw no purpose in being offended. Since he had the strength to insist on his way, he would hold to it until something that could actually stop him appeared.

“I’m not here to mock righteousness or justice,” said Sol. “Everyone derives strength from different motivations. But if two people are determined to push through something they can’t compromise on, the only way to do so is with their fists. Don’t you agree?”

“You’ve let your borrowed power get to your head!”

Even as he spoke, IX felt his own words coming back to bite him a little. It was true that the source of Player was different from that of his perfected version of Unlimited Sword Glint, but the two were the same in that they had each been bestowed on their user. He had put in the effort to master his ability, but at the end of the day, it was as much a borrowed power as Player was.

Moreover, the girls now standing protectively in front of Sol and the three monsters were not just being coerced through Player. They acknowledged him and chose to serve him of their own will, and they were ready to put themselves in harm’s way to protect him. Of course, they had a vested interest in him, as their powers also came from Player. Even so, it was clear they reciprocated his feelings and cared far more about him than vague causes like “everyone” and “the world.”

They were all using borrowed power to protect the relationships they had built up, and that was pretty noble on the spectrum of what people used power for. After all, power existed for people to achieve what they wanted, be it to seize, protect, or destroy.

“I don’t deny that what I have is borrowed. However, I think how someone uses their power is far more important than where it came from. After all, there are many forms of power. Words can be power. So can character, beauty, and of course, money. Whatever it is, if it can make someone else back down, it is undoubtedly a form of power.”

Sol looked right into IX’s eyes. “Your words, however, hold no power over me. And I imagine the same goes for you in hearing my words. Which is why...”

He lifted his right hand from Luna’s head and regained the freedom of his left hand from Aina’noa, then deployed countless display windows all around himself. After talking this long despite being at such loggerheads with each other, one thing was now clear.

“We both have no choice but to resort to the most obvious form of power—violence.”

Any further words would be unseemly. It was time to make a stand.

◇◆◇◆◇

The dull, metallic clanging of Sol’s party members parrying Unlimited Sword Glint slashes filled the air nonstop. All three with offensive capability—Reen using Butter Knife, Frederica with her fists, and Eliza with ropes of magic threads—were striking down the slashes close to them as soon as they appeared, while Luna’s tail smacked down everything targeting Sol and Julia. Rosalind alone made no move to protect herself, as the slashes only dug a few centimeters at most into Rodem’s formless body.

“I can handle this pace with no problem,” Reen reported with Thought Acceleration active.

“The slashes stop when you break Novem’s line of sight,” Frederica noted. “They are no threat when I stay outside of his field of vision.”

“With our speed, we can cross his field of view so fast he doesn’t have time to target us,” Eliza added. “So it looks like just staying on the move works too.”

While Reen was diligently cutting down her slashes, Frederica was using her high mobility to stay out of IX’s sight, and Eliza was repeatedly popping in and out of his view. In doing so, they confirmed that his kinetic vision wasn’t capable of keeping up and that the targeting ability of Unlimited Sword Glint did not happen all by itself. As a bonus, Eliza quickly filled the room with her threads so that she could kill or capture IX whenever Sol gave the word.

Julia sighed with admiration at her friends’ performance. “Do we have the world’s best attackers or what?”

She had taken part in the Country Eater fight too, but the place she felt most comfortable was next to the party’s shot caller, where she had enough distance to see the full picture of the fight playing out. If she scattered Type Phoenix’s feathers now, they would just get shredded by Unlimited Sword Glint, so she was entirely on standby at the moment.

“I couldn’t agree more. They’ve completely got this in the bag. And Luna, thank you too,” said Sol.

The girls’ teamwork was near perfect even without his orders, and they weren’t making any offensive moves until he instructed them to do so. In watching this display of battle prowess that overshadowed that of top veteran adventurers, Sol felt laughter bubbling up from within. Reen was one thing, but Frederica’s and Eliza’s growth was so remarkable that his feelings went beyond impressed to straight up amazed.

Of course, he did not forget to thank Luna either for handling the attacks directed at him and Julia. Frankly, the two of them could deal with something of this level themselves—him with his shortsword and her with her wand—but as a commander and healer, they deeply appreciated having someone protecting them.

Luna was already over the moon at Sol getting angry on her behalf earlier. Being thanked for a task that took less effort than child’s play had sent her over the edge, eliciting a slovenly expression and gross laugh that was rather inappropriate for the head of the prideful race of dragons. This time, the Demon Lord wasn’t alone in recoiling—even the Elven Queen gave the All Dragon a side look and warbled a low-pitched note in a disapproving tone.

Sol’s expression was rather complicated, but no one commented on it. If this mental state was effective in making the All Dragon stay put on the back line like Sol had ordered, there was no need to snap her out of it. This way, he was free to observe how well normal people trained up with Player could perform against a being that was allegedly protecting this world’s status quo in an official capacity.

Unlike the others, Rosalind had yet to master high-speed aerial maneuvers. She was practically standing still and just blurting the occasional “Huh?” and “What?” in reaction to the bits and pieces she caught of the ongoing action.

“Calm down, Rosalind,” said Sol. “Rodem is protecting you from the flying slashes, so you’re completely safe.”

“I-I know that in my head, but...”

“If this is all he’s got, he is no match at all for us,” said Rodem.

It was a blessing that Rodem was so well-matched with Unlimited Sword Glint. Rosalind didn’t actually need to move, and she wasn’t in any danger from staying still. Even if something that could harm her appeared, Rodem had the discernment to take appropriate action. Therefore, Sol wasn’t all that worried about her.

In fact, the fight was so anticlimactic that Sol was afraid he would get careless. He had to give IX points for launching his assault right after Sol’s declaration, but it had become clear that he was woefully incapable of keeping up with Sol’s party when they used Thought Acceleration, which had become a matter of course in all their fights. They had yet to get a measure of IX’s physical capabilities, but the movement of his head and eyes was no faster than that of a normal human. He was no match at all for Sol’s party as they zipped around, both thinking and moving at superhuman speeds. He was completely left in the dust.

Most importantly, Unlimited Sword Glint was nowhere near a threat. The flying slashes’ hidden ability to stun and whittle away HP was indeed exceptional. It also provided assistance with targeting those in the user’s view and flew quite fast. It probably would make someone invincible in a fight against monsters.

Only one problem: The slashes had to actually land. They were fast, but not instantaneous. Although they could be launched close to a target, that distance was similar to normal melee range. Given that, Sol’s group, who could move fast enough to match their quickened thoughts, were more than capable of simply using their weapons to parry the slashes when they appeared. They could probably even have dodged them.

Moreover, despite the slashes’ guaranteed effect against HP barriers, they weren’t all that powerful themselves. There was no chance of them destroying the top-of-the-line Gawain-made weapons that everyone in Sol’s party wielded. Nobody wanted to take the risk of testing, but they were sure even their normal-looking gear could take quite a beating from the slashes, not to mention their Numbers armaments. In fact, their foundation suits alone could probably withstand more than a few hits.

In other words, the flying slashes were getting nowhere near touching the party’s HP barrier in the first place.

All attacks directed at monsters first landed on their HP barrier and directly harmed them only after exhausting that barrier. Since most monsters were virtually fully reliant on their HP barriers for protection, very few developed exoskeletons or hide that could withstand skills and spells. This meant once their barrier was down, the fight was effectively over.

Taking down a human was another story entirely. One would have to first get past the weapon they were using to parry attacks, get past the shield they were protecting themselves with, and get through the gear they were wearing before finally reaching their HP barrier. A flying slash that failed to do all that would not stun or shave off an HP point and therefore was inconsequential.

In short, against humans, Unlimited Sword Glint was essentially a very dense barrage. This was still effective against humans whose eyes couldn’t keep up and who could be killed with a single slash—in other words, normal people without Player’s support. For Sol’s party, however, the skill was little more than a tiresome and somewhat flashy game of Whac-A-Mole. This was something they had already confirmed using Blue Water’s version before. If the only thing different about the form IX wielded was that it was truly unlimited and had no need to build up a stockpile, the change did not make it any more of a threat against Sol’s group.

“Reen, try taking Novem’s aggro. If it works as usual, redirect everything to Rosalind.”

“Not to my shields? I’m pretty sure they can take it.”

Now that he knew his side was in no danger and could respond any way they chose, Sol decided to try dealing with it how they usually did. Through practice matches with each other, the party had learned that Reen’s ability to control the targeting of skills and spells was effective against those cast by humans too. That said, there was no guarantee that would always be the case when facing hostile enemies, thus Sol’s use of the word “try.”

Whenever Reen did this, however, she had always redirected the attacks toward one of her shields, and she therefore found Sol’s instructions a little unexpected. Even her weakest shields, the two cannon shields, could very comfortably withstand the attacks she was currently fending off with Butter Knife.

“I don’t doubt it, but it would get really noisy. So, Rodem, think you can handle it?”

“Without a doubt.”

“All right, let’s do th— Ah, it’s working just fine. All good.”

Since Sol had heard her out but reconfirmed his order regardless, Reen carried it out without another moment’s delay. Members of this party had the right to voice their opinions when there was time to discuss it, but when Sol expressed understanding and still insisted—and he would often explain why—they absolutely had to obey. This was an ironclad rule for fights in this party, and anyone who could not follow it had no place there, regardless of their relationship with the other members. Even Reen, who was aware she had the most say with Sol, made sure to respect that rule.

When she used Intimidate, the targeting function of the perfected Unlimited Sword Glint easily fell under her control, so she promptly set it to only attack Rosalind, who was still standing stock-still. Until Intimidate wore off, all skills and spells used by IX could only target her. The only recourse IX had left was to get close and throw kicks or punches using his actual body.

Reen had thought Intimidate extremely powerful from the start, but it continued to impress and terrify her with its development. In the beginning, she could only choose a member of her party as the target, but now she could even specify a piece of gear they were wearing. Recently, her go-to strategy in ordinary fights not intended to impress anyone was to transfix Axis Nine, her toughest shield, in the air and have it basically suck away all of the skills and spells launched by the monster they were facing. It was so effective that she couldn’t help feeling bad whenever she did it.

Eventually, though, she would learn how to select empty points in space for this purpose, and that would greatly demoralize even her sparring partners, not just monsters. Anyone’s spirit would break when they packed everything they had into an ultimate attack only to flub it by sending it off in an unintended direction.

This was exactly what Sol was trying to do against IX at the moment.

◇◆◇◆◇

What...is going on?!

All semblance of composure had fled IX. When the insolent nexus being who didn’t fear the Wards in the slightest finished talking, IX had immediately activated Unlimited Sword Glint. While they had been leisurely chatting away as per his invitation, he had located the three people positioning themselves out of his view and set at least ten thousand targets each on the tank right in his face, the nexus being, the healer at his side, and the three monsters who served him. He merely had to pull the trigger, then take down the three in his blind spots one by one.

The monsters merited some caution for their durable HP barriers, but they would become stun-locked the instant a single flying slash made contact. The nexus being and his companions didn’t have barriers and would therefore pose no challenge, so IX’s plan was to first finish them off and then focus on wearing down the monsters. The power that had been granted to him when he became a Ward was a perfected version of Unlimited Sword Glint, which could be used as much as he wanted without having to build up a stockpile. It was a godly power. He was a god.

And yet, the young girl surrounded by large floating arms disappeared from view after he managed to target her only a few times. There was another girl who wasn’t floating like the others but standing on top of magic threads she had set up, but she popped in and out of his field of vision too fast for him to go through the “see, lock on, fire” routine—it was as if there were clones of her. His descendant, clad in a shapeless, semitransparent blob that was apparently Blue Water’s new form, was the only one that the slashes were landing clean hits on.

No, everything was wrong. Instead of the familiar clear ping and flash of white light caused by dealing damage to an HP barrier, what filled the air was an insistent, dull, low-pitched metallic clanging and shattered fragments of the slashes’ blue glint.

Alarmed, IX quickly looked over at the monsters, realizing he would be backed into a corner if they made a move now. Thankfully, they seemed content to stay put, though every last slash he sent their way seemed to fade the moment they appeared. He suspected the All Dragon was crushing them. He wasn’t surprised that the monsters were still standing, but the nexus being and his healer not having been chopped up into pieces already was unexpected. Again, thanks to the All Dragon, most likely.

Put simply, Unlimited Sword Glint had yet to claim a single life. The only result was the deafening clamor, and the fight that usually ended in what felt like the blink of an eye was drawing out into an uncomfortable eternity. Less than ten seconds had actually passed, but that had been more than enough to finish off the two nexus beings he had met before.

With that realization, IX slowly slid from mere confusion into fear. The memory of the day he’d lost to Country Eater flashed across his mind, as vivid as if it were yesterday. For the fifteen years since coming of age, he had diligently stored up slashes made using his large mana pool. He had thrown every last one at the boss, but to no avail. So what choice did he have? He’d gotten on his knees and begged for his life.

To banish the terror and shame coursing through him, IX directed his full attention toward the four people and three monsters in his view. But just then, the loud clanging abruptly let up. At the same time, the countless magic circles serving as targets, which only he could see, all moved over to his descendant on their own. After that, every time he attempted to set a target, he ended up selecting her regardless of where he looked and what he intended.

“What is happening?!”

IX was so bewildered that he asked the question out loud this time. He had lost control of his own skill. With the targeting magic circles cleared away, it was now obvious to him that Sol’s side remained entirely unharmed. And last but not least, the blob that his descendant was floating within was quietly swallowing up all the flying slashes launched in accordance with the targets gathered on it. Nothing about this situation was making any sense.

“Long story short, the skill that all your confidence is based on, Unlimited Sword Glint, doesn’t work against us,” said Sol, who had dispelled Thought Acceleration after confirming that Intimidate had an iron hold on the slashes.

There was no need to continue burdening his mind by speeding it up. Though Julia could completely heal the damage, the pain he felt when his brain was overloaded scared him. It wasn’t so much a matter of the intensity of the pain as it was the knowledge that he was breaking something that had no business being broken. He didn’t think he would ever get used to the instinctive fear that the sensation invoked. If needed, he wasn’t beyond maintaining the spell for a prolonged period of time with Julia healing him nonstop, but his policy was to push himself only when absolutely necessary.

“That...can’t be.”

“I’m more astonished by how overconfident you got from that skill merely being unlimited. And based on your reaction, it doesn’t seem like you have any other cards up your sleeve.”

Frankly, Sol was pretty disappointed. That, and embarrassed about how anxious he had been moments ago at the prospect of facing an enemy with a skill that seemed likely to have been touched directly by God.

When he’d learned of Unlimited Sword Glint from Rosalind and Blue Water, he had naturally analyzed its capabilities and limitations, focusing less on adding it to his party’s arsenal and more on how much of a threat it would be should his party face an enemy wielding it, as well as how to foil it. Ultimately, he had concluded that the skill in its current form was no threat at all, and being pelted with a version that was truly unlimited had upheld that assessment.

What Sol had been afraid of was the slashes themselves getting a power up. For example, if they were combined with the ability to see through matter, they could perhaps manifest directly inside what someone was wearing and therefore completely circumvent armor. Thought Acceleration would be of no help against such a threat, and it would be game over the moment someone’s HP barrier was bottomed out. A beefy barrier might buy someone a little time, but Sol himself would have been easy pickings.

As a less extreme example, if the slashes were guaranteed to damage all weapons and armor a little like they did HP barriers, their becoming limitless could also make them a huge threat. Zero times infinity was still zero, but any number above zero, no matter how small, multiplied by infinity could eventually overcome even the All Dragon, the Elven Queen, and the Demon Lord.

These were the concerns that had gone through Sol’s mind when IX first showed up. Now, along with feeling relieved, he was having trouble understanding how IX could have been so full of himself when he couldn’t do any of those things.

For his part, IX was also left dumbstruck by Sol’s reply, but it was true that there wasn’t so much as a scratch on anyone on Sol’s side, and Rodem remained hale and hearty despite being bombarded with flying slashes this very moment. No matter how much IX hated to believe it, there was no denying cruel reality.

Sol was already familiar with how capable Reen was as a tank, and now, he was realizing how suitable Rosalind was in her Numbers armament. Where Type Kuzuryuu was an orthodox shield-based tank, Type Rodem was the special kind that nullified or reflected attacks. Since his party already had dedicated attackers, a buffer and healer, and a debuffer, keeping two tanks on hand was by no means a bad choice.

When he realized that a Ward’s strength was nothing against humans bolstered by Player, much less the monsters, he had immediately wanted to use IX to gauge Rodem’s ability as a tank. It was a pity that IX had no more cards to play, but being able to completely nullify attacks from a being who had one foot outside the natural order of this world made Rodem more than adequate. If Reen would take Rosalind under her wing and teach her everything there was to know about being a tank, it would allow her to step away from the front line when needed, thereby expanding the strategies available to the party.

“Ugh!”

Having barely come to terms with the highly degrading fact that he was now little more than a test subject for Sol’s group, IX decided to take the best course of action available to him—flee. He had used Teleport to get there, and was sure he could escape the same way any time he wanted. After all, the opponents he had faced in the past had all been inferior beings who didn’t even know the spell existed.

Of course, as previously proven by a certain succubus, it was categorically impossible to escape the All Dragon. But IX didn’t even get to find this out, as his spell fizzled out right before activating. In the dozen or so seconds that he had been unsuspectingly floating in the air since the start of the fight, Eliza had woven a barrier of at least twenty layers of magic threads all around him. These threads now reacted to his cast of Teleport and severed the flow of mana that the spell needed.

When deployed, Number Three: Type Atlach-Nacha’s barrier of thread could cancel out all skills and spells that those trapped within tried to use by expending an equal amount of mana. IX’s Unlimited Sword Glint and Float only remained active because Eliza allowed it, and she could take away that permission any time she wished. The only way to get out was to use brute strength to physically tear the invisible threads that the spider nest was spun from.

Since IX had now made an attempt to escape and Sol had already determined he was entirely out of moves, Eliza figured the only thing left to do was to take him into custody and therefore cut off his use of Float. She considered severing all his limbs for a second but remembered that escape was absolutely impossible with the full roster present and therefore held herself back. Being a girl, she didn’t want to expose too much of her real self in front of the boy she liked.

Even Sol, who couldn’t receive any of Player’s augmentations, could land from this height with ease, let alone Eliza herself. Therefore, she was planning to say coolly, “There’s no escape from here” the moment IX touched down. But, to her absolute shock, the man hit the ground hard, with a very loud crack.

Huh?! Did he die?! It would be entirely my fault if he did!

Eliza was so shocked she felt like she had been plunged into cold water. However, she wasn’t alone. Everyone who had received power from Sol had overestimated IX on account of him showing up as Sol’s enemy and thought it a matter of course that he had at least the same physical prowess they did. Clearly, that had been a huge mistaken assumption. Without his magic and bloodline skill, IX had been reduced to little more than a normal, powerless human. As it turned out, those of Sol’s inner circle had become so powerful they could completely shut down even a Ward.

“Wh-What is it that you want?! The intel I hold?! My power?!”

IX lay in a pile on the ground, shaking from the pain of his bone fractures and defeat. Although he hadn’t the faintest idea what had just happened, he at least understood that his attempt to escape had been foiled, and he cried out plaintively with blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. He failed to notice Eliza sighing with relief as he continued trying to cast every single spell he knew, but every one of them died out at the very last moment, further plunging him into consternation.

Is there such a gulf between us?! He spat out a mouthful of blood, obviously suffering from internal injuries. So much for being a Ward. What was even the point of sending me against such powerful opponents?! What meaning is there in everything that I have—

All pretense had been ripped away. He was about to start cursing Sol’s group when his train of thought suddenly froze. Meaning was a direction he should not pursue. To forcibly change gears, he let his pain and rage wash over him.

The more pressing question is how I can get out of this mess.

Thankfully, it seemed the nexus being wanted something from him. Maybe it was the information he held as a Ward. Maybe it was Unlimited Sword Glint, which, despite having proved ineffective in this fight, was still a powerful skill. There had to be a reason Sol had yet to kill him even though he could do so at any moment.

There has to be something. Please let there be something.

IX’s mind raced as he schemed for a way to survive, as he had successfully done two hundred years ago. He had no idea who would ultimately win in the clash between this nexus being and the Wards, but he would have no place in that future if he didn’t first pull through.

No matter what I have to sell, I’ll—

“Are you seriously saying that after everything that’s happened? If you didn’t hesitate to kill us, why should we let you live?”

However, the question that IX had been so sure would grab Sol’s attention fell on deaf ears. There wasn’t anything in particular that Sol wanted to hear from IX’s mouth, and neither was he interested in inviting IX to join his side and wield his Unlimited Sword Glint for his sake. Whatever interest he’d had in that regard had been snuffed out at the very start of the fight. Since they had reached a point where they found it impossible to settle their differences with words and crossed the line into actually trying to kill each other, “I admit it’s my loss, and I surrender” wasn’t going to fly. At least, not with Sol.

Sol never showed mercy to those who took a shot at his life. He couldn’t, not after having upheld that policy against even his childhood friends, Alan and Mark. It wasn’t like he thought nothing of what had happened, but neither did he truly regret the choices he had made. There were only two possible outcomes when one person tried to kill another: win and carry out the killing, or lose and be killed. Someone who entertained any misconceptions about that would eventually end up with a knife in their back. To Sol, this was an unshakable truth. Those who would use their strength for personal gain had to be aware that they themselves were subject to the same rules.

This applied to him too. For example, he couldn’t say for sure that the self-proclaimed Game Master didn’t see him as an enemy. Therefore, he wouldn’t be surprised or indignant if he suddenly found himself the one crawling on the ground, his life about to be snuffed out. He also understood that the same fate could befall those who had joined his side. Case in point, IX had targeted everyone here with flying slashes even though his target had been Sol alone. Sol’s party had ended up dominating the fight, but if their strength had fallen short, they would all be dead by now.

And so, Sol was going to make sure that IX died here. There wasn’t a single reason to spare someone who had made an attempt on his and his companions’ lives.

“Why didn’t you kill me right away, then?!” IX thought his question and anger justified. It was because he hadn’t been killed right away two hundred years ago that he had been able to beg for his life and ultimately survive by joining the Wards. Yes, Crystania and all its neighbors had suffered a heavy price for following his judgment and waging war against the Wards, but he had been saved. He had come out on top every time he had been weighed against something else. He was worth it. That was why he had been allowed to live this long despite having lost.

Of course, though this was the case with the Wards, it was a mistake thinking the same was true of everyone else. Prince Salyu had let becoming Ward IX get to his head. His arrogance had twisted the conviction and sense of responsibility that everyone who stained their hands with the blood of others was burdened with. That misconception always led to defeat and death, going in order of those who most forgot themselves first.

Gleaning from IX’s astonishment and outrage that this was the case with him, Sol didn’t bother to give him an answer. Now that they were no longer victor and loser, the strong and the weak, or even two people putting their lives on the line clashing in pursuit of some goal, mild disgust was all that he felt toward IX. And so, without saying a word, he shot Gawain’s newly developed magic tool into his body.

“What did you dooooo?!” IX howled, expecting a killing blow, but that didn’t seem to be the case. He hadn’t the faintest idea that Sol didn’t want to talk with him anymore and couldn’t help continuing to run his mouth, asking inane questions.

“Luna.”

“Yes, my lord?”

There was indeed a reason Sol had yet to kill IX. It wasn’t out of mercy, of course, nor was it to torture or recruit him. The tool that Gawain had developed based on Blue Water, which he had shot into IX, was only really insurance. He had used it solely because the enemy was slated for death anyway and it therefore didn’t matter what was done to him. If the experiment went well, he might get IX’s knowledge as a bonus too, but he wasn’t fussed about it. And he had zero need for IX’s mind.

What he did want was for Luna to devour him to take all his abilities, including Unlimited Sword Glint. If there was a trap set up in him, the plan was to devour that too and take it head-on.

Luna caught all this from simply having her name called. She reluctantly let go of his hand and pattered over to the fallen Ward. Without a hint of malice or hostility, she dispassionately began carrying out her liege’s command.

“Wait, what are you doing?! Listen to—”

The sight of the adorable little girl slowly approaching filled IX with more despair and fear than he had ever felt. He had experienced being on the verge of death before, but being eaten alive was a whole other beast.

Sol’s companions were petrified watching the All Dragon eat a human being in person for the first time. Even Sol himself found himself looking away before he knew it. It wasn’t like it was that much easier the second time.

Though Frederica had the same expression on her face as the others, the heat bubbling up from deep within was making it really hard for her to remain standing. Her moist eyes were fixated on Sol, who was waiting for Luna to finish with slightly visible disgust. As a royal, she fully understood the depth of his resolve. She had been far away during the Oratorio Tangram, but this time, she got to watch him making the coldhearted call up close, and it spoke to something deep within her.

Her dedication and submission to him so far had been in no way insincere. However, there had always been a pragmatic side to her that expected some form of reward. For the first time ever, she was reacting to Sol purely as a girl with all calculations out the window.

Chapter 7: Pandora’s Box

The floor boss was dead and the interloper defeated. Not even a morsel remained of Ward IX after Luna was done with him. Halfway through the meal, she had taken great care to spit out the magic tool that Sol had shot. To avoid making her feel bad, Sol chose not to tell her off for being gross and wordlessly sent the piece into extradimensional storage. He was going to go over it with Gawain after returning to the surface to determine how the experiment had gone.

While using Player to take pictures of the murals of world histories on the wall, Sol said candidly, “He was a lot weaker than I expected.” He was inviting the rest of his companions to share their impressions of the fight that had just gone down.

Without a doubt, Sol had become invincible the moment he’d picked the “Lunvemt Nachtfelia the Bound Evil Dragon” card from among those presented to him. There was a distinct possibility that he couldn’t have beaten the Demon Lord’s Augoeides, but he most certainly wouldn’t have lost, even if the unknown entity hadn’t interfered. On the contrary, if he hadn’t bonded with Luna, it might have been a huge struggle to contain her Augoeides when the entity freed it. As things stood, nothing in this world could truly pose a threat to him as long as he had Luna.

After hesitating a moment, Frederica said, “I thought so too.” She hadn’t failed to note the “than I expected” part of his statement. She had gotten used to being in his company enough that she wouldn’t have raised an eyebrow if it had been one of his monsters who had won the fight, even if all it took was for that monster to wave a hand. However, that wasn’t what had happened.

“I’m so, so very sorry!” Eliza cried earnestly.

Sol chuckled. “It’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

It was Eliza who had effectively taken Ward IX down, and she had done it by accident, because not even she had expected him to be so weak. She hadn’t used the skills or abilities that Sol had granted her, nor had she used Number Three: Type Atlach-Nacha’s ultimate attack. No, she had simply meddled with the Float spell that he had been using to hover in the air.

Being dropped from a large height was indeed something that could kill not only normal humans, but even those who had been blessed by God with talents that enabled them to fight monsters. As an example, Luna had once used Teleport to repeatedly drop a group of Rank A adventurers until they lost their minds.

However, this incident wasn’t the All Dragon against a group of Rank A adventurers. It was Eliza versus a Ward. IX had shown up as Sol’s enemy, whereas Eliza—and the rest of the girls—saw themselves as merely normal humans propped up by Player. Right off the bat, they had just assumed he would be stronger.

Rodem cleared his throat. “Ahem. I hate to correct you, Lord Sol, but the Ward was not weak. You and your party are the ones who have grown too powerful.”

Rosalind nodded furiously. She had just watched Unlimited Sword Glint, which she had thought the most powerful skill in the world up until recently, being neutralized with ease. Though it was her own bloodline’s heritage, even if she were to receive the perfect version from God now, she did not think for a moment it could surpass her current strength when paired with Number Five: Type Rodem. The power of Sol’s inner circle—sometimes referred to as his Party One as of late—had simply grown that formidable.

“I, too, agree with that evaluation.” Little Alshunna sighed from atop Sol’s head. “It puts into sharp focus just how incredible his talent, Player, is.”

It was Player that had lifted normal humans to the realm where a Ward, someone with one foot outside the natural order of this world, was weak to them. All the abnormalities could be traced back to Sol obtaining Player.

“That’s true,” said Reen.

“Yes, and no one’s felt it more keenly than the two of us,” Julia added.

On that fateful day when they’d come of age, four children in Ros Village had been shackled with the fate of being common Villagers for the rest of their lives. There was no doubt that it was Sol’s talent that had transformed them into a party of geniuses that had climbed all the way to obtaining Rank A promotions.

These two childhood friends felt far more comfortable now that Luna, Aina’noa, and Little Alshunna were around, as opposed to when they had been held up as Rank B adventurers with the awareness that they were mere Villagers constantly in the backs of their minds. Knowing that the power that had given them the strength to wipe the floor with Country Eater was the same power that had subdued monsters from legend somehow made it all feel more reasonable somehow. At the same time, the focus on the monsters did somewhat distract from the true essence of Player.

There was a wall that could not be surpassed simply by slowly leveling up using the world’s dungeons and territories. This was why the members of Black Tiger had given up on their childhood dreams, with the party ultimately breaking up. Reen and Julia, who remained with Sol now, had been no exceptions. They, too, had at one point given up on trying to help Sol realize his dream.

But then the Evil Dragon, upon being freed, had smashed that wall for them. With Player’s blessing, the group had obtained limitless growth. Then Gawain the Magic Blacksmith had come onboard, continuously supplying them with incredibly powerful gear that allowed them to perform at their best as they reached new heights. On top of all that, even Sol himself got to enjoy that limitless growth despite his inability to directly receive Player’s support.

Their strength was now at a level where it was by no means arrogant for them to consider a Ward—an opponent that should have played the part of a huge obstacle in their way—weak. Falling from a height that would guarantee death for a normal human wouldn’t hurt them in the slightest. If there was a need to encapsulate what they had become in one word, it would be “superhuman.”

The All Dragon, the pinnacle of all magic beings, said seriously, “My lord’s power will make him powerful enough to even beat us in a fight one day.”

The Elven Queen expressed agreement with no particular sign of surprise. To her and Luna, this conversation was merely an exercise in stating the obvious. Little Alshunna sighed, but she did not raise any objections. All three could tell that if Sol were to cut off all of their enhancements and instead gave it all to one person, that person still wouldn’t win, of course, but could survive for longer than an instant facing them.

There were still many dungeons scattered throughout this world. Of the Four Great Dungeons, three remained entirely untouched, not to mention the Tower. In other words, there was still much to fuel Sol’s growth as Player’s host. Accordingly, the stats and abilities that he could bestow on others would also continue expanding, and there was no ceiling in sight limiting how strong those under his command could ultimately become. Needless to say, boosting the All Dragon was the most obvious shortcut to power. However, even if the difference in fighting strength between a normal human and the All Dragon was one to a million at the start, that difference would become negligible if, as an extreme case, Sol could increase that person’s power a billionfold.

There were many words used to refer to an entity that surpassed human limits, of which “monster” was one. Perhaps the true purpose of Sol’s talent was to rule over the monsters of the world and use them to lift all humans to become monsters like them too.

“Hmm, I see. Maybe it really was supposed to be a face-off between talents,” Sol mused. “Oh well, we can take our time thinking about it later.”

If the Ward really had been sent to participate in a face-off between two people possessing unique abilities, it made sense that he had found himself in over his head. After all, everyone at Sol’s side had long become monsters in their own right.

Despite how much this line of inquiry piqued Sol’s interest, however, this was not the time to delve into it. His top priority at the moment was to continue pushing deeper into Abyss. The circle of ancient script etched into the floor in the center of the room was giving off a bright light that was probably meant to have started up the moment the floor boss was defeated. It was obviously inviting the group to step inside, and by now, no one here would be too chicken to do so.

“Everyone inside? Make sure your feet are touching the ground. Luna and Aina’noa, don’t let go of my hand.”

Following Sol’s reminder, everyone dispelled Float and landed inside the magic circle as the three monsters took up their usual positions around Sol. Upon confirming that everyone was fully inside, he stepped in as the last person. It wasn’t like there had been a hint written down somewhere, but he had suspected that Player was the key to activating the spell, and that turned out to be right. The circle immediately started spinning and sinking.

The group was basically riding a large magical elevator. The platform they were on gradually picked up speed as the stone flooring crumbled away, leaving only the magic circle. There was only darkness on the other side of the transparent surface, giving the impression that this shaft led all the way into hell. Magical light from the platform illuminated the walls, revealing them to be a material like obsidian with a beautiful, unbroken sheen. Clearly, this was not a place carved by nature. It was man-made—or no, considering the scale, it felt more right to call it God-made.

Every once in a while, the descending platform passed through a magic circle of some thickness anchored to engravings in the wall. This happened roughly once a few dozen seconds at the start, but in no time at all, the platform sped up so much that it seemed to be hurtling through repeating rings of light. Eventually, they bled into each other and became one, completely filling the surroundings with magical light. It wasn’t just one color, however. The entire color spectrum started appearing from below and shooting up past them.

If this had just been a physical elevator, there would have been no need for such an intimidating display. Conversely, if this display had not been mere saber-rattling, it would have implied that the large magical elevator had a purpose besides physically transporting passengers from one place to another.

The tumult of rainbow light continued to assault the senses as the platform continued. By now, it was careening faster than even the All Dragon’s top speed.

Luna gripped Sol’s right hand a little tighter. “My lord, I sense my wings approaching really quickly.”

Her words confirmed that the group was indeed moving at an incredible speed. The surrounding spectacle corroborated it, but the humans couldn’t actually feel it. Perhaps this was also one of the stark differences between humans and monsters.

Little Alshunna inclined her head quizzically. “Something’s strange, though. At this speed, we should be emerging on the other side of the planet very soon.”

Apparently, the Demon Lord was aware of not only their current velocity but also the diameter of the planet they were living on. If what she was saying was right, however, the absurdity of their speed was much less a matter of interest than how it was happening. If the organa was hidden on the other side of the planet, Luna would have sensed it on the other side of the planet, not deep inside a dungeon. She could have simply flown over on an Astral or used the World Tree to teleport in the blink of an eye.

“Really?” exclaimed Reen.

Eliza repeated, “The other side of the planet?” several times, as if trying to wrap her mind around it.

They already knew that the earth was a large sphere thanks to knowledge that Sol had possessed way back when for some reason and what Frederica had learned and shared from the archives retrieved from Biblioteca. What would have normally just been stored away as a bit of trivia had then been given incredible weight by the view from the Floating Continent and Sol’s private island, from which they had learned just how incredibly gigantic the planet was. Lately, Sol had taken a fancy to making the most out of San Jeluk’s Tear’s built-in environmental control and bringing the island all the way up to maximum altitude—pretty much satellite orbit—any chance he got.

“Um, what happens if we do?” asked Frederica, fretting in a rare display due to her inability to parse the situation with the superfluous knowledge she possessed.

“Probably get thrown into the air upside down, I bet,” Julia replied flippantly. She wasn’t one to agonize over something she didn’t understand.

Hearing that, Frederica let out a soft “eep!” and fell on her behind as the blood drained from her face. Julia thought it a bit silly, given that not only did Frederica have her Numbers armament but she had even learned how to use Float and Fly on her own recently. Even so, Frederica simply wasn’t good at dealing with suddenly being thrust into the unknown. The fact that she also loved reading academic treatises and had an incomplete understanding of gravity and the core of the earth certainly didn’t help any.

Aina’noa and Rosalind inclined their heads in unison, not having the faintest clue why everyone was making a fuss.

Just then, Sol half unconsciously murmured a line that he should have forgotten. “The dungeons...are a door?”

The rainbow whirl immediately cracked, then shattered without sound.

Reen’s eyes widened. “Uh...”

“What...is this?” asked Frederica, equally shocked.

Julia and Eliza were struck speechless as Rosalind turned to and fro in a huge fluster, prompting Rodem to tell her to calm down.

If the scenery had been completely unfamiliar to them, the group might have been a little less shaken. However, because it bore similarities to the view they saw every day, they were all the more bewildered by it. Specifically, the scene strongly reminded them of how their planet looked spread out below them when they woke up on Sol’s floating island every morning. The only thing was, the planet they were now looking at wasn’t blue but reddish brown. In other words, it was a completely different planet.

Of course, no matter how deep the shaft at the bottom of Abyss went, there was no way it would open up on the other side of the planet. Still, there was no denying they were now in the stratosphere, and the long tunnel that had led them here from Abyss was gone without a trace, leaving behind only the magic circle they were standing on. After descending a long, long way, this was where they had ended up.

“This must mean the flashy magic light just now wasn’t merely for staging effect,” said Sol, sounding calm in spite of the situation. “It was very likely a higher form of super long-range teleportation magic...or maybe it wasn’t even displacement in the way we know it.”

Frederica looked at him in surprise. Despite having read the same books from Biblioteca and therefore supposedly having obtained the same knowledge, she had failed to glean the same insights right away. What he said made sense, of course. If there was indeed teleportation magic at a higher tier than what they knew, there was nothing to say it couldn’t facilitate travel between planets. The existence of superlong-range teleportation magic that required going through a different activation sequence than normal teleportation magic seemed to support the theory. In fact, now that he had said it out loud, this seemed the only right way to think about it.

However, while this was something Frederica herself might have eventually arrived at if she calmed down and had some time to think, she hadn’t the faintest idea what Sol meant by “displacement in the way we know it.” Never would it occur to her that he was talking about traveling to a different world from their own.

Where Sol differed from her was in having gone through a similar experience when he first met Luna. The All Dragon’s Augoeides was indeed bound in the fake moon circling their own world, but the space in which he had selected her card had felt different somehow.

The word “outside” brought to mind “wayside,” which in turn led to “Wayside God.” Perhaps everything was connected.

By reaching the farthest depths of Abyss, one of the Four Great Dungeons, Sol had obtained the right to lift a corner of the lid on this enigma. Without a doubt, Ward IX had been dispatched to prevent Sol’s group from coming here.

◇◆◇◆◇

As the group stood around goggling at the unfamiliar planet below them, Luna declared, “My lord! My wings are on that moon over there!”

The moon in question was so conspicuous that everyone could immediately tell what she was talking about. With how greedily it was absorbing outer mana, presumably to feed the numerous layers of magic formations that it was enveloped within, there really was no way to miss it. If Luna hadn’t called it a moon, however, the others might not have. It honestly looked more like a massive spell on the verge of being activated.

“Guess that’s where we’re going, then,” said Sol.

Luna promptly summoned an Astral, the party got on, and off they went. Sol thought it a bit careless to approach the moon without knowing anything about it, but they didn’t have much choice if Luna’s organa was inside. And since he had approved the decision, no one voiced any objections.

Without encountering any notable obstacles, the group reached the moon and landed on its surface. The gravity there was weaker than what they were used to, but not to the point where they were at risk of accidentally launching themselves into space. However, because they were standing on the side of the moon that faced the planet, it looked like it was constantly hanging over their heads and about to fall on them at any moment, making it hard to relax.

Sol, apparently, did not share this sentiment. On the contrary, he took such a liking to this bizarre view that he promptly started musing over how he could reproduce it back home. The simplest way would be to bring his floating island up to stratospheric altitude and turn it over, but if that wasn’t possible, he was thinking of asking Gawain to modify it accordingly. There was no doubt their blue planet would look quite different hanging overhead as opposed to being spread out below.

The fact that this was what Sol was thinking about and that Luna, despite her agitation, properly remembered to spice up the summoning of her Astral with more effects than before spoke volumes about the nerves of steel that this master and servant pair had. Then again, Reen, Julia, and Rosalind weren’t much better, seeing as they were taking advantage of the low gravity to leap into the air without the use of spells and otherwise having a ton of fun. In situations like these, Frederica and Eliza had a tendency to be left out due to generally being more sensible than the others.

It was notable, however, that the monsters, who were usually the most laid-back in the group, now had the gravest faces.

Little Alshunna got down from Sol’s head and landed on the surface of the moon. She placed a hand on the ground, then said solemnly, “There’s something incredibly powerful bound here.”

“Luna’s wings, right?” Sol asked.

The fake moon in their own world held Luna’s Augoeides. It was maybe a simpleminded leap in logic to make, but it stood to reason the one here held a part of her. He saw the Four Great Dungeons as trials to clear in order to restore the All Dragon to her complete form. However, the way Little Alshunna spoke seemed to imply that the situation was not quite so straightforward.

“To be exact,” said Luna, “my wings are being used to keep something bound here.”

As it turned out, what was bound here weren’t her wings themselves but something else that her wings were keeping suppressed. This world had as much outer mana in the air as their own world after the Elven Queen’s restoration, and organas were organs possessed by monsters to draw in outer mana to use for themselves. None were as effective as one from the All Dragon, the pinnacle of all magic beings.

“I see... And even you can’t tell what it is, Luna?”

“I’m terribly sorry, my lord.”

“No need to apologize. Even my display only has it labeled as ‘Unknown.’”

For a brief moment, Sol had held out hope that Luna might be able to tell what was bound here on account of part of her body being used, but it wasn’t that easy. Come to think of it, a part that was separated from someone and used for some purpose was no longer part of that person, be they dragon or human.

“I can actually retrieve the wings,” said Luna. She made it sound simple, but the fact that she could not only tell exactly where they were but also take them back and reattach them to herself vividly portrayed how incredible magic beings were.

Sol frowned. “But if you do, the unknown thing would be set free?”

It was good news that Luna could reclaim her wings even though they’d been converted into a magic tool. The worst-case scenario would be her knowing they were her wings but being unable to ever regain their use, as it would mean her fully restored Augoeides was forever lost. The actual situation was not as dire, but if her wings were being used to keep something bound, taking them away would logically mean letting that thing loose—a thing neither the All Dragon, the Elven Queen, the Demon Lord, nor even Player could identify. A thing that could not be kept subdued with anything less than an organa from the All Dragon. Chances were high that this thing was hostile—not only to Sol’s party but to the world. To all worlds.

Luna nodded. “What do you want me to do?”

What she was actually asking was whether Sol wanted her to take back her wings and fight the unknown being that would be set free. They didn’t know for sure that it would be hostile, after all. It might even be thankful to be liberated and decide to join Sol, as Luna, Aina’noa, and Alshunna had.

“Sorry, Luna. I don’t want to take this risk without being as prepared as I can be.”

“I’m entirely fine with whatever you decide!”

“Thank you.”

Sol sounded apologetic but certain. If their lives depended on this and there was no other way, he wasn’t beyond taking the leap. Such moments came every so often for adventurers, and sometimes the inability to make that snap judgment could lead to death. However, that wasn’t the case here.

“Our priority is now to find our way back...though I admit I’m very curious about this planet.”

“I agree,” said Frederica. “Let’s first confirm that we can freely travel to and from here.”

If they had the knowledge of how to do so, they could easily come back to explore when they were better equipped.

“Do you remember where the magic circle is, Luna?”

“Of course.” Luna nodded confidently.

“That’s likely the only way for us to return to our world. I don’t know if this is a faraway planet or our planet in another dimension, but either way, it’s probably beyond the reach of Aina’noa’s World Tree, much less our own magic.”

The dejected note that Aina’noa sang confirmed Sol’s conjecture. Her authority over all the ley lines of their world did not extend here, be it a different planet or dimension.

“I would venture to guess that we can come and go with no trouble. That’s what that setup is for, and the Ward showed up to stop us because it works.” Sol didn’t think the situation warranted alarm and was quite sure that they could easily go back the way they had come.

He was quickly proven right. When the group returned to the magic circle, it promptly started up like before and brought them back to their own world.

“Guess our first order of business is to get as far inside the other Great Dungeons as we did Abyss.” Sol rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Wait, no, before that, let’s try to fully clear a normal dungeon.”

“What if the normal dungeon ends up being like Abyss too?” asked Frederica.

Sol shook his head. “Three organas were taken from Luna, so there should be only two more dungeons in the same state as Abyss. Even if there is something bound at the end of the normal dungeon, we should be able to handle it with ease.”

“That makes sense.”

“Something else I can do is to find the two remaining cards I saw—the Lifeless Divine Beast and the Cursed Hero—and get them to join me. But sadly, I have no information on either of them at the moment.”

Put simply, Sol was now prioritizing building up his strength. It was the logical response to learning of the existence of a potentially very powerful enemy. He had the leeway to do so, as the threat wasn’t imminent.

“Isn’t there a possibility that they are the bound entities?”

“Yes, which is another reason to check out the other Great Dungeons.”

Despite what he said, Sol thought the likelihood very low. Clearly, the numbers didn’t match. Then again, the number of remaining Great Dungeons and missing organas weren’t the same either, so one of them might be entirely different from Abyss. In any case, it was imperative that they conquer the others as quickly as possible. Until then, there was too little information to make any informed decisions.

“What we find there might change things, but I also have a hunch that I will need us all to be stronger, not just the monsters. My gut tells me we need Luna’s Augoeides in full form to beat those that her organas are restraining.”

Frederica froze. “That...is a problem.”

“Yes, it is.”

If that was the case, they had a paradox on their hands. Without retrieving all three organas scattered in three different places, there would be no beating the beings those organas bound. However, they would be finding themselves facing the first two while still incomplete. Until a solution to break this paradox presented itself, they were at an impasse. And from the look of things, the conundrum was something they had to resolve before they could get any further.

Several ideas had already occurred to Sol. Therefore, instead of frowning in distress, he was beaming like a child who had figured out the answer to a riddle. He was an adventurer, one who would risk his life to make the unknown known, and this was just the kind of thing that set his heart racing.

Perhaps the adventurers who had first discovered Pandora’s box, the box that was never to be opened, would have smiled just like he was if they had been in his shoes.

Chapter 8: The Next Step (Part 2)

San Jeluk’s Tear, the private island belonging to Sol that now floated in the stratosphere, had once been one of the numerous islands that made up the Fol Mentera Archipelago in the Santeshesel Sea until they were restored along with the Floating Continent. All of the islands of the archipelago, including this one, had once floated in the sky. But when half the outer mana in the atmosphere disappeared, they had crashed into the Santeshesel Sea, gradually taking on the appearance of normal islands over the thousand years since.

San Jeluk, a tourist city that was a member of the Poseinia Eastern Seaboard Federation, had claimed ownership over them by merit of them being within its territorial waters. Before they returned to the sky, however, San Jeluk had ceded full rights to the entire archipelago to Sol.

The floating islands were all under the control of the Floating Continent, as they were really just broken-off fragments. It was a little hard for present-day humans to believe, but the entire continent, islands and all, was one massive magic tool in the guise of a landmass that had been given to the devinians long ago.

The devinians still living were officially under Libertadores command due to their leader, Demon Lord Alshunna, being in service to Sol. In other words, the former residents of the Floating Continent answered to him, and he therefore had full access to the system that controlled it and the knowledge of how to run it. Without them, humans of this age hadn’t the faintest idea how to start up the floating islands, much less manipulate them.

Even so, if San Jeluk had been persistent, it might have been able to eke out some compensation for them. Thankfully, the leadership of the city had seen the folly in doing so and opted to hand them over to Sol with no strings attached. It wasn’t like they had any way to make use of them when they were in the sky, so the city quickly reached the conclusion that asking for money, rights, or status in exchange for them—in effect, selling them—would only hurt them in the long run. The leaders didn’t dare hope they could earn Sol’s trust with this gesture, but they thought it would at least count as a small favor and maybe, just maybe, make an impression on him. They figured that this would lead to the most benefits in the future.

Now, all the nations on the continent could see for themselves what a brilliant call it had been. As a general rule, Sol gave one floating island to each country. There were a few exceptions where entities that were not proper countries received one too, such as Crystania and the other burgeoning city-states in the west, the Adventurer’s Guild, the Holy Church, and, yes, San Jeluk, a mere tourist city.

Despite being a city under the banner of Poseinia, San Jeluk had a floating island of its own, making it the equal of the entire federation in that respect. Even if there was no way to fully comprehend the why of this decision, its intention was not to be ignored.

The Poseinia Eastern Seaboard Federation used to be ruled by the heads of Poseinia’s five largest city-states. Now San Jeluk had a seat too, making it six in total. In fact, San Jeluk held more influence than all the others combined, which made it practically the permanent leader of the committee. That did not mean it had a direct relationship with Sol, but it did have an open line to King Franz of Emelia, the host country of the Panhuman League, which guaranteed it respect from all other countries. By giving up the right to lumps of rock it had no use for, San Jeluk had obtained enough control to helm one of the Four World Powers and, despite still being a mere city, was treated like a full country by the absolute ruler.

The truth of the matter was that this move had been Frederica’s way of addressing the issue of Poseinia being the only superpower without a firm connection to Sol. At the same time, it also served as an easy-to-understand example of how beneficial it could be to cooperate with him.

Her plan proved effective and was welcomed with much relief by both the citizens and leadership of Poseinia, who had been starting to worry that their nation was falling behind the others. In fact, it was a little too effective. The favor that San Jeluk, a mere city, had received made the leadership of all other countries sit up and take notice, despite the difficulty of reproducing the same combination of sagacity and opportunity.

As a result, countries scrambled to search for what they could contribute to the Panhuman League—and Sol, by extension. They knew mere pretense wouldn’t do; it had to be something of actual value. In a way, it was a very forward-thinking and action-oriented trend, as it motivated countries to seriously evaluate their own strengths and devise ways to better the world by sharing those strengths as opposed to monopolizing them.

Naturally, it took time to set such large-scale endeavors in motion. Countries that hadn’t been intentionally specializing in anything had to come up with something from scratch, while countries that relied on exclusive specializations needed to make drastic adjustments and create new frameworks. So they all looked for a way to take immediate action to buy time.

What everyone settled on was sending their princesses to become candidates for Sol’s rear palace. When they saw how much progress Reconquista Oeste, the campaign to resettle the western expanse, made in a month, the peer pressure to join the trend mounted until it practically became a compulsion.

Frederica had no one else to blame, as she was the one who had come up with the plan to reassure countries by loudly announcing the development of Sol’s rear palace. And for better or for worse, the physical preparations for accepting candidates had gotten well ahead of the process.

The idea at first had been to make do by reopening the Great Bath Palace, an expansive area inside Emelia Palace built long ago to house a royal harem, but everything had been moved to the floating islands, with the entire arrangement reviewed from the ground up. Completion of this new rear palace, which included Sol’s living area, was given top priority without anyone asking him. Gawain practically jumped for joy when he first laid eyes on the floating islands, then went full bore until he was fully satisfied. As a result, Sol’s private island was now furnished with practically every feature needed for a rear palace, sans a few final buildings.

In the center of San Jeluk’s Tear was a World Tree sapling planted by the Elven Queen. A ley line dense enough to be visible to the naked eye extended from it to the main World Tree on the Floating Continent below, as well as to the ten medium-sized islands floating around San Jeluk’s Tear. These ten islands were to become the private pavilions of ten concubines given the official title of “consort,” including whomever he would choose as empress. There were ten positions to start, but should more catch Sol’s eye, that number would naturally be raised as needed. Conversely, there was a nonzero possibility that he might end up never choosing more than ten consorts.

At the moment, the island that was largest and therefore outfitted for the position of empress was being used by Reen. The next two, of similar size, belonged to Frederica and Eliza—the second consort and third consort, respectively. The buildings on their islands were new constructions inspired by the residences they had chosen in the Great Bath Palace, with some relocated as is. The three of them had effectively already begun living on their islands.

It was likely one more would be given to Queen Rosalind of Crystania, leaving six consort positions still open. It didn’t take a genius to predict how fierce competition over them would eventually become.

As an aside, Sol had taken such a fancy to the Great Bath Palace that the main residence on his private island was almost a perfect recreation of it. He had grown to appreciate having easy access to a large variety of baths and therefore asked for the concept to be applied to the entirety of his new rear palace.

By reverse-engineering the floating islands’ core mechanism, Gawain obtained the ability to make as many of them as he wanted—small ones, at least. Partly for experimentation’s sake, he decked Sol’s rear palace out with all sorts of eye-catching installations. The most notable were the boulders he suspended in midair around the ten medium-sized islands that produced endless streams of water coursing down like waterfalls. The top boulders had magic stones embedded in them that produced clean water using mana, therefore eliminating the need to hook up pipes. The water was then ultimately scattered into the atmosphere, creating rainbows that were visible around the floating islands at certain hours and angles. Furthermore, Gawain also created rivers on the islands and one big stream that flowed into the main ley line. If this palace deserved a nickname, it was the “Water Palace.”

Dozens of smaller islands also surrounded the main one, set up to be used by concubines who had not reached consort status. These were proper islands, not mere boulders produced by Gawain. In fact, they were the same size as those granted to countries. There was no end of speculation about what this meant, but one thing was sure: Becoming a concubine was a big deal.

Each concubine was expected to be accompanied by a whole company of ladies-in-waiting, servants, and the like—all female, of course. All those blessed with the honor would likely be beauties in their own right and probably hailing from noble lineages, to boot. Case in point, those who had resumed their roles in serving Reen, Frederica, and Eliza in the new rear palace were all daughters of noble Emelian families. Some among them had such high pedigrees that it would have been unthinkable for them to be servants in the past. Considering the privileges they now enjoyed, however, it was only natural that other countries would also be doing the same.

Safety was one such privilege. There was no safer place on the planet. Even if the entire surface was completely devastated, this was the one place that would remain unscathed. Magic and the Floating Continent could produce enough water and food to support a limited population, making the whole floating ecosystem a Noah’s ark of sorts.

A position in Sol’s harem was extremely desirable from an objective point of view, even when divorced from the idea of seeking his love. It was natural for countries to want one of their own to be accepted. Frederica had said that each country could sponsor one girl, but there was no telling when Sol might simply say, I don’t need that many and call off the entire system at the drop of a hat. Therefore, everyone was vying to seal the deal with him before then. If a country’s concubine managed to catch Sol’s eye like Frederica and Rosalind had and was granted a consort’s island, that country was guaranteed a place in the top ten of the Panhuman League.

At the moment, the world was enveloped in an arms race where the arms being sought were girls of beauty and talent who could obtain the absolute ruler’s favor.

◇◆◇◆◇

“I’m deeply grateful that you’re here, Lord Sol. That said, are you sure you don’t want to rest in your quarters tonight?”

When Sol emerged from the teleportation circle set up in front of Frederica’s door, he found her standing in wait for him as usual. He was here to spend the night with her in accordance with the provisional arrangement that his harem had agreed on back when he first moved into the Great Bath Palace. Last night had been Reen’s turn, thereby leading to the teasing from Julia in the dungeon. Frederica had noticed the “last night was great” vibe between Sol and Reen in the morning.

“I figured I shouldn’t make exceptions for this kind of thing unless absolutely necessary.”

“I agree, but...”

Sol sounded casual, but Frederica couldn’t help looking concerned. After all, any normal person would consider what had happened in Abyss today more than enough cause for an exception. When it occurred to Frederica that Sol did not consider those events beyond the scope of the ordinary, she was both surprised at his backbone and deeply mortified that she had presumed to have understood his nature. She kept her expression straight, but there was nothing she could do about her ears and neck turning red. She prayed that Sol wouldn’t notice.

Unfortunately, she had gone with a bold choice and was wearing a simple black bustier dress with a very low neckline and had her hair done up in a ponytail, so there was no hiding anything. She had wanted to stun him right out of the gate with the look if he really was coming tonight, and it had backfired. Thankfully, the way he was struggling to make eye contact gave her reassurance that he indeed had not noticed.

Their party had had no trouble returning from the enigmatic space connected to the deepest point of Abyss. From the looks of things, their reward for getting that far was the right to visit that space at will. Needless to say, they had left the fake moon there untouched. It was not yet time to take that risk.

“How are you, though, Frederica?”

The shock of discovering another world and the paradoxical trap that lay in wait there was still raw. The group’s experience with freeing Gio Nest, exposing the Old Rulers’ deceit, and seeing through the restoration of the Floating Continent helped them understand just how tall this latest hurdle was. Resolving it was going to take a lot of effort.

That was precisely why Sol was carrying on like normal. He was putting on a front, as he knew how easy it was for a party to fall apart in a perilous situation when its commander lost his cool. That was not to say that this was a crisis in his eyes or that he was feeling anxious—he was actually excited, as he had a hunch that things were going to take a huge leap forward. Still, he didn’t expect all his companions to feel the same way, and he had clocked Frederica’s trepidation. And as it just so happened, he was scheduled to visit her tonight, so here he was.

Touched by Sol’s regard, Frederica gave him her best smile. “I am getting sleep every night and have healing magic whenever I need it, so I am in good shape. I would be delighted should you choose to spend the night in my company.”

That breathtakingly beautiful smile that brought to mind a blooming flower fully explained why many called her Lilium di Regnum. If Sol hadn’t been used to seeing it, he would have been convinced that his worry was unfounded. After all the time he had spent seeing her perfect mannerisms, however, he could tell something was indeed off.

“You’ll be stuck with me for tonight, then. I know we have that Libertadores meeting early tomorrow morning, but we really don’t need materials for it, all right?”

Coming here was the right choice, thought Sol. He figured that, with how much Frederica loved theorizing, he would be able to get her mind off things by spending the night with her discussing the unknown entity bound with Luna’s wings.

Since the provisional rule of the rear palace had come into effect, Sol had been spending his nights with Reen, Frederica, and Eliza in turn. Aside from the weekends, he was basically not allowed to sleep by himself.

Contrary to expectations, however, his nights with Frederica were mostly spent chatting late into the night over tea about anything and everything, ranging from the current state of the Panhuman League to the progress of Reconquista Oeste to impressions regarding some book from Biblioteca they were picking up. Sometimes, he would also get lessons from her on royal etiquette, including ballroom dancing. In the end, they usually ended up in bed, talking until they fell asleep.

Every time, Frederica went with rather bold choices for her attire, but they seemed to be affecting Sol less and less. Despite all the times they crawled into bed together, nothing sexual ever happened. Even so, Frederica appeared to be enjoying herself and seemed appreciative that Sol was adhering to the rear palace’s rule. The fact that she never made any aggressive advances helped Sol to relax and let down his guard, and he eventually came to simply enjoy these private moments with a real-life princess.

“Of course, my lord.” Frederica nodded deferentially.

Sol laughed and shot her a doubting glance. “So you say, but knowing you, you’ll get something ready anyway.”

It wasn’t just once or twice that, after he had fallen asleep, she had spent the rest of the night compiling some report that she deemed necessary. If she was thinking of getting a head start analyzing today’s events and writing up those findings, however, Sol was fully ready to stay up with her. Like her, he had been enjoying a rather healthy sleeping schedule lately thanks to their regular hours in Abyss. With Julia on hand to provide healing magic in the morning, one or two all-nighters were nothing.

“You merely have to make sure I have no time to do so tonight, then.”

As Sol was stunned by this unexpected reply, Frederica embraced his left arm and looked up at his face with an expression that was a little too flirtatious to be written off as mere mischief. He might have gotten used to seeing her in risqué nightwear, but the sudden addition of the senses of touch and smell made it much harder for him to hold on to his composure.

Perfume he understood, but it had always been an enigma to him why girls simply smelled good as themselves. Her body heat and softness was being conveyed loud and clear through his arm, and her upturned eyes were trained on his face. Having a level in the thousands meant he could run at full speed for an hour and not break a sweat, but his heart was racing so fast that there was already a thin film on his skin. A detached part of him noted what an interesting phenomenon it was.

“I-Is that a challenge I hear? And I’m sure you’ll just get back up after I go to sleep.”

Determining that Frederica was only taking a step further than usual, Sol decided to play off the invitation as a joke. He knew her enough to know that all she was in the mood for was to go over what had happened today. She was probably a little shaken too, like he sensed, but it was in this princess’s character to take action to alleviate such emotions herself. So he was implying that he was willing to hang out with her throughout the night so she didn’t have to continue working all alone after seeing him to bed.

“Or you can see to it that I can’t get back up.” With an innocent face, Frederica wrapped herself even tighter around Sol. “Given where we are, I believe the surest way is to not let me sleep in the first place.”

“Wait, what?” With all the experience he now had, Sol properly read her message between the lines. That understanding, however, was what left him so bewildered by her sudden attack.

Despite her calm exterior, every inch of Frederica’s exposed skin had turned faintly crimson. In this case, however, the blush added to the impact of her uncharacteristically bold approach, and unlike before, there was no need to hide it or any point in doing so. After all, the impression that she was pushing through her embarrassment to appeal to him was speaking directly to his male instincts.

The sight of Sol getting more flustered than she had expected brought a happy smile to Frederica’s face. “I understand that guys can get into the mood at the drop of a hat. As for me, what happened today...”

She had just assumed that, since Sol had gone all the way with Reen, her own inexperienced attempts at seduction wouldn’t work on him. Consequently, she had opened with a move so bold that it had made her blush too.

Drip-feeding assets into a fight was, more often than not, a terrible strategy. In a fight where victory was guaranteed, the optimal tactic was to bring all of one’s forces to bear in one major push to end everything at once. After overestimating an opponent and mounting an inordinate response, however, there was a process that had to be followed. This wasn’t pulling one’s punches or giving up an efficient victory. The issue was that, no matter how great the difference in strength, there was no winning if there was no fight. To prevent that victory from slipping through one’s fingers, one had to first box the other side in. And at times, this required pulling back a little.

“Y-You’re suddenly ready?”

“Who can say?” Frederica giggled. Upon reaching the middle of the courtyard in front of her elegant mansion, she suddenly released Sol’s arm, dashed a few steps ahead, twirled around, then bent down a little and suggested, “How do you feel about a drink before your bath, then?”

Upon returning to this world, Sol had promptly tried to reproduce the setup of having their planet seemingly hanging in the sky overhead and succeeded. The fantastical sight of the blue orb covering the sky above Frederica’s head now lent extra impact to the pose she had struck.

Thinking he was being offered a way out and not seeing the trap in it, Sol sighed inwardly with relief but disguised it as caution. “I don’t think we’ll stop at just one glass if we start.”

“I’m in the mood to get a little tipsy,” said Frederica, fully aware of how coy she sounded. “Would you not indulge me?”

No man could say no to her when she turned on her charm the whole way, save her father and brothers. In this, Sol was just as hopeless as any other guy, Absolute Ruler or no. Furthermore, the influence of alcohol was an all-powerful excuse that was equally useful to both sides. Even though they would never admit it out loud to anyone, even to each other, getting the situation to where they could tell themselves “I wasn’t in control because I was drunk” or “I got so drunk I blacked out” was extremely convenient for both the one on the offense and the one playing defense in this game. When pulled off with success, self-deception gave humans the ability to march with sure steps and their heads held high into situations they would normally steer well clear of.

“Well...if you say so, I guess I can join you.”

“Thank you very much!”

And so, the gong for a battle—the outcome of which had already been decided—rang between the two of them.

◇◆◇◆◇

The hour was late, but sunrise was still a ways off. Clothing that had been carelessly stripped off lay strewn over the thick carpet. Moonlight glinted off countless beads of condensation on half-emptied glasses of top-tier brandy. The distinct odor of intercourse hung faintly in the air, mixing with smoldering incense and alcoholic fumes to create a sweet, heady aroma that filled the room with a lewd air.

All was quiet save the peaceful breathing of sleep. Strangely, the little imperfections in the silence, like the barely perceptible patter of rain, occasional clap of distant thunder, and the faraway city commotion, made it seem all the deeper and more profound.

The bluish light of the stars streamed through the skylight, illuminating the naked figures of a man and woman sleeping on a large, luxurious canopied bed. No, it was only the woman who was asleep, with her long, golden hair spread out on the sheets around her. The man was sitting up with one knee propped up.

The first bout between these two had ended with Sol’s decisive victory, leaving Frederica so deeply asleep that she wouldn’t be waking up until morning short of being shaken with great force. In other words, she had won the seduction showdown but then suffered a complete defeat in the resulting duel.

Sol didn’t even have to cheat using the abilities that Luna had appropriated from the succubus. In terms of pure physical capability, he was no match for Frederica, as he couldn’t boost his own stats through Player but had raised hers to the limit. In bed, however, victory was decided by other stats. More importantly, a stark difference in experience could very easily overturn the advantage of physical prowess, as was the case in many other domains.

Consequently, Frederica was now more accurately unconscious, not asleep. The memory of how immodest her first night had been would be making this princess writhe in bed in pure mortification quite a few times in the days to come. Thankfully, however, defeat was not the end in this form of combat. With unceasing effort and enough experience, Frederica just might be able to have her revenge one day. Or that would have been true if Sol hadn’t had far more opportunities to gain such experience or the ability to not only temporarily revoke her stat buffs but even reset her level. On second thought, her prospects were an immutable zero.

Funnily enough, Reen had recently taken a liking to just that: having her level reset and being reverted to a “normal” girl. It apparently really turned her on having Sol, with the overwhelming strength that came with his much higher level, do as he pleased with her in that state. It was very likely that Frederica would discover the exact same thing not too far off in the future.

When separated and facing him alone, the girls’ forces were no match for Sol’s solitary might. They had but one very slim chance at victory, which would require them to swallow their embarrassment and join hands to mount a united assault. Then again, considering their current strength, they would still get trounced. If they didn’t individually train themselves up more, Sol would just be going through them like tissue paper.

While absently playing with Frederica’s blonde hair, Sol murmured to himself, “So, we’ll be putting off the Four Great Dungeons for now. That said, we might be on a timer and just don’t know it. Even so, our first order of business is to fully clear a random dungeon. At the same time, we should also step up efforts to find the Lifeless Divine Beast and the Cursed Hero.”

Countless display windows of all sizes hung in the air surrounding the canopied bed bathed in starlight. Some displayed texts from Biblioteca with subject matters that had little to no mention in this world’s myths, traditions, or recorded history. Others showed the pictures of the murals from the lowest floor of Abyss being sorted and grouped while extracting and documenting excerpts with suspected similarities and connections according to Sol’s judgment.

This form of analysis was what Frederica was best at, but she was out of commission, so Sol was having to do it himself. The meeting with all the Libertadores was going to be rather early in the morning, so he didn’t have much time to finish. Given the considerable urgency of this meeting, he couldn’t just show up empty-handed with the excuse that he had spent a very enjoyable night with Frederica.

Their situation was, in fact, quite dire. If Sol’s hunch about the three bound entities was on the mark, it even appeared that they were at an impasse. To defeat the three, they needed Luna at full strength, which meant regaining all her organas. Assuming that each organa—a horn, an eye, and a pair of wings—was keeping one such entity at bay, only the third fight was winnable and the first two would be decisive defeats.

In addition to the paradoxical nature of this conundrum, there was also the constant possibility of the three beings getting free by themselves. Whatever they were, they were so powerful that nothing short of the All Dragon’s organas could keep them bound. Frederica understood that. It was pure fear, not strategy or calculations, that had induced her actions tonight. She knew full well that they were standing on very thin ice, and it terrified her.

Sol saw this as a development in his quest to make the unknown known and was thrilled, but he also was aware of how Frederica felt and that she was only being dragged along by him, so he had wanted to comfort her. Frankly, she had been adorable. So adorable that the word did not do her justice. Ever since meeting Sol, she had never once shunned Player or Luna. Instead, she had devoted all her mental energy to coming up with ways to most efficiently make use of them—to put it in a more diplomatic way, maximize their potential. She had been a steadfast presence at Sol’s side, honest and direct with her suggestions and opinions.

Furthermore, she was the first princess of a superpower nation, with overwhelming support from its military arm. Through brains and effort, she had successfully overcome the societal limitations placed on her as a woman and convinced former King Ethelweld to grant her the position of third in line for succession to the throne of Emelia even before meeting Sol. On top of all that, she possessed such incredible beauty that she was lauded as the Lily of the Kingdom. She was the living embodiment of everything that Sol pictured in the ideal highborn girl.

At least, that was how he had seen her up until tonight. Even though she had practically forced him to call her without her title, she was still every bit a princess in his mind, a being to be looked up to and adored. She acted with grace at times, cutely teased him at times, and bewitched him at times, but throughout it all, there was always a pragmatic core in her that kept score and watched for opportunities. She never hesitated to use something and run it into the ground if needed, including herself. There was also a sincerity to her, and when she wanted to curry favor with someone, she actually made herself appreciate them from the bottom of her heart.

All this was why, in a way, Sol trusted her the most. His fingers unconsciously slid down her hair to stroke her small, well-shaped head, then traced her neck down to her back. Despite being asleep, her ravishing body still shuddered in reaction to the stimulation. The urge to bury his face in her back once more shot through him but was offset by the pang of guilt he felt over how hard he had been with her despite this being her first night.

Instead, he picked up the magic tool on the end table that Gawain had developed half as a joke. In the blink of an eye, the vestiges of their heat and passion were wiped away. Soldiers on the front line and adventurers would probably cry with joy to get their hands on such a tool, but the plan was to first sell it to the night districts. Sex was a rather effective motivator for innovation, advancement, and refinement, as Sol had learned with some surprise.

It was only natural to end up messy after the deed, and he wasn’t particularly disgusted by it, but intentionally remaining in that condition until morning was something else entirely. Most importantly, Frederica was a princess. It wasn’t hard to imagine how distraught she would be if she woke up to find herself in such a disheveled state.

Sol gulped at the sight of Frederica’s bare back, restored to a field of virgin snow thanks to the magic tool, then lightly chastised himself for his reaction. She was all cleaned up, but the marks left on her soft skin remained, seeming more immoral and arousing for becoming more obvious. They counted as wounds in a broad sense, so she would probably need Julia’s help to erase them, like Reen had yesterday morning.

Though the Frederica he knew had not been a lie, it had been but one side of many. Sol chuckled, acknowledging what an easy man he was to have fallen for it. Mere hours ago, the calculating part of her that he had evaluated so highly had crumbled entirely. She had completely bared herself, sharing the depth of the terror in her heart to the person with the power she most trusted to protect her and begged him to use it.

Honestly, he didn’t know what to make of himself. No, he was, in fact, quite dismayed. The sight of Frederica, the paragon of strength he had come to acknowledge, acting tough but being unable to fully suppress her shuddering, ultimately breaking down to reveal a fragile individual who desperately craved the reassurance and warmth of a man from him had excited him more than anything she had ever done to catch his attention. Before this night, he had never known how much this dynamic exhilarated him. There was a possibility that even this had been an act, a trap to burrow deeper into his heart, but if so, he was fine with it. He didn’t care if it was a trap. And for that, he conceded that she had completely beat him.

I thought I had more control over myself than this.

Reen had told him that Frederica was holding herself back and that he would be no match if she ever got serious, while Julia had simply snickered. He had gotten a little indignant at the time, but after tonight, he now fully understood that he was no match for any of the girls in his party.

With that being the case, he wanted to treasure not only his own dream but also those of these girls who had gotten caught up in his own and whom he had come to hold dear. This, too, was another reason for him to bring a swift resolution to the situation that scared Frederica so badly. Thankfully, it was only really a paradox for the All Dragon, whereas he, as the Boy Who Ruled the Monsters, also had at his side the Elven Queen, the Demon Lord, and hopefully, eventually, the Lifeless Divine Beast and the Cursed Hero.

Also, if what Gawain was developing based on Blue Water worked as planned, there was a strong possibility they might gain access to Ward IX’s memories. Additionally, though the Four Great Dungeons were probably still beyond their abilities, clearing normal dungeons seemed like something they could very much do.

What worlds they would find doing so, what enemies they would encounter, and what powers they would obtain remained unknown—all cards that would be revealed only when they actually turned them over. But there was still a lot that Sol and his group could do. Exhausting that list was exactly what it meant to be the adventurer that he dreamed of becoming—to be one who reached places unheard of and unmarred by footsteps. Only such people had the right to learn the world’s mysteries. Sol’s dream, his very purpose in life, was to turn these unknowns into the known.

But now, he had found more reasons to obtain greater strength. Had he acquired support pillars that made him tougher, or had his purpose become scattered and blunted? Not even Sol himself would know until that final moment.

The moment he did would be when he understood what meaning that moment held.

Side Story: Kuon Cris Clan the Hero

The Hero was, by definition, a heroic person. Someone who took on challenges that everyone else shied away from, someone moved not by victory but by beliefs, sometimes even to the point of putting their own life on the line. That, or an idol burdened with unconditionally protecting people from external enemies.

Long ago, the Hero used to be the symbol of justice who had eradicated the demons, humanity’s bitter enemy. The greatest human alive, blessed by God above all others and acknowledged even by the Holy Church. Or, in the eyes of those who knew of the Old Rulers’ existence, the pitiable product of embedding the aspect of dragons into a human subject.

To this world, however, mention of the title of Hero invariably brought to mind the great savior who had saved the world in the Kuzuifabra. Equipped with the god regalia that God had bestowed upon her, she had struck down not only humanity’s greatest enemy, Demon Lord Alshunna, but also Lunvemt Nachtfelia, the Evil Dragon who had dared bare her fangs at God. With Elven Queen Aina’noa and Divine Beast Sydonay at her side and absolute strength at her hands, she had pulled the world back from the brink of utter destruction.

The full name of that character, the protagonist of the Kuzuifabra, was Kuon Cris Clan. However, no one alive knew that name, as it had been a long time since anyone had read the original version of the account, and transcribed copies that included it were extremely few in number. At most, there were a few historians who specialized in ancient manuscripts who might have heard of “Hero Kuon.”

However, though her name may have been forgotten, the feats that had earned her the title of Hero remained. The fact that she had saved the world with her courage and strength would continue being spoken of as long as humanity remained, never to be forgotten.

Unfortunately, this much-celebrated Hero, purportedly blessed by God, was cursed. Needless to say, no one knew why she was cursed, when it had happened, or who had condemned her to that fate. In fact, only a tiny handful of people even knew that she was cursed. Sol was one of them, but even he did not know anything beyond having seen “the Cursed Hero” as one of the cards that had been available for choosing when he first used Summoning.

She remained out there to this day—not bound, not held captive, not rendered vacant, and not robbed of life, but burdened with a curse that ate away at her day in and day out, without end. And now, a thousand years later, she was coming to. Though she had been reduced to a husk of her former self, lost the god regalia that God had given her, and lost her human form, she stirred in accordance with her directive to eliminate the enemies of this world—those from beyond with the potential to bring about its end. Perhaps it could be said that this directive was the very first curse that had been placed on her.

However, she remembered who—what—it was that had left her in this state, and it drove her mad. Completely forgetting her role as protector, she cursed everything connected to that which ate away at her, becoming a living curse that sought to destroy everything she faced.

Blighted and broken, the Hero now sought to destroy the world that she had once put her life on the line to protect.

Not just this world...

All worlds.

◇◆◇◆◇

Near the top of the shattered Tower, much higher than even the stratosphere, was a giant spherical space. It was an anachronistic anomaly that looked over the planet from high up, with monitors covering every inch of its interior.

At the moment, this space was filled with cacophonous warning sirens. The large crystal that housed the deployed Ward IX stood empty, but the twelve others still held Ward I through to Ward XIII in suspension, and they were currently flashing with intense magical lights as geometric patterns raced across their surfaces. Concurrently, red text in an ancient language blinked insistently on the countless monitors in midair, displaying lines like “Warning,” “Intruder Detected,” “Elimination Failed,” and “Emergency Activation.” The Tower was so alarmed by what was happening that it was trying to wake up all the Wards in a hurry, skipping all steps in the activation sequence that it could.

However, it was too late. The control mechanism and power core in the middle of the circle of large crystals marked “I” through “XIII” in red exploded, and a figure stepped inside. It was the human Hero, carrying a magic weapon that could defeat dragons and equipped with a shield and armor that could block even the Demon Lord’s attacks. Splashes of blood from all races covered her from head to toe, her equipment was corroded and rotting, and her originally beautiful features were eternally contorted like those of a zombie. Everything about her screamed wrongness.

The lines of light that had once connected her to her god regalia, that supreme armament made from the Augoeides of a real dragon, now trailed behind her like torn and fully rotted intestines. They greedily drew in outer mana from all around, feeding her ever more destructive power.

This was the Cursed Hero.

With a single swing of her bare hand, all the crystals were pulverized. As a result, the mana pumping into them to wake up their residents lost directionality and exploded in a large chain reaction. This explosion enveloped the parts of the upper floors that had survived the assault of Lunvemt Nachtfelia the Evil Dragon and remained functional, blowing most of it to pieces. With that, a large portion of the Tower that Sol had set as his final objective was gone.

Having come loose, the massive pieces of rubble succumbed to the pull of gravity and began plunging toward the surface, breaking apart further on the way. Before long, they would crash into the Principality of Amnesphia below, including the Holy City of Adrateio, and erase it from the map.

The culprit for all this destruction, Kuon Cris Clan, threw herself into the void of space. She howled like a beast, but in the absence of sound, it looked like she was wailing. It was at this moment that the Cursed Hero, one of the monsters Sol was supposed to bring into his service, was unleashed upon this world, masterless and out to bring ruin to all.

Thus ends the Wards arc.

Afterword

Thank you very much for picking up volume 5 of The Boy Who Ruled the Monsters. I am Sin Guilty, the author of this humble work. It is thanks to you, the reader, reading and supporting this series that this volume is now on shelves. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Once again, as has been the case since volume 3, this is a new record for me, and I am truly overjoyed. I promise to continue giving it my best until this series comes to its end.

The focus of volume 5 is on Sol building up his strength in reaction to his encounter with the unknown being from volume 4. He finally gets around to dealing with Country Eater, expanding his party once again in doing so, then goes through a lot more. I hope you found the journey entertaining. He also gets to take his relationship with Frederica, a character I love very much, to the next step.

As I explained in the previous volume’s afterword, this volume was written almost entirely from scratch and takes the story in a drastically different direction from the version on Shosetuka ni Naro. As a result, we have the Cursed Hero making an appearance before our overlord and master, the feline Lifeless Divine Beast. The episode with the Cursed Hero is a crucial turning point tied to the ending that came to me the moment I came up with this story, so I look forward to exploring it further with all of you in the pages of the next volume.

Once again, the illustrations drawn by NAKAMURA 8 are living rent-free in my head. Not only is the cover art bursting with the vibes of a dungeon crawl, the color frontispiece and other insert images are masterpieces in their own right. I cannot thank him enough. This is true of the Numbers armaments on the colored double-page spread too, but I also can’t get enough of Frederica’s expression and pose. It is honestly a mystery to me how the same person could design such cool mecha and such cute girls. Thanks to all of you who read my work, I am blessed with having NAKAMURA 8 give it shape, and it makes me incredibly happy.

I also want to talk a little about Chapter 3, “Reclaiming the West,” which I wrote in a different style than usual. It is basically a compilation of short stories from the perspective of various people living their best lives who have been affected by and are benefiting from Sol’s group doing whatever they please. I quite like this style of presentation, so I hope you enjoyed reading it. I know it is a little lacking in punch, but...what do you think?

Volume 2 of the manga adaptation by Tamon-sensei is out, with the serialization finally getting to the Oratorio Tangram and the introduction of the Elven Queen. I am overwhelmed with emotion seeing even the characters’ expressions drawn in such great detail. I hope that you enjoy Sol and his companions’ journey in that medium as well.

With hope in my heart that we will meet again in volume 6, this is where I shall wrap up the afterword for volume 5.

Bonus Story: The Ambitions of a Middle-Aged Man

“Even with all things considered, isn’t this a bit much?” Steve groaned as he looked at himself in the mirror.

Steve Naiman, incumbent president of the Adventurer’s Guild and a member of Libertadores, was currently clad in a heavy set of armor and holding a white, gleaming tower shield with red and gold ornamentation. Unlike Reen’s Butter Knife, his main weapon was forged entirely with rare metals and looked capable of cutting through any monster on sheer weight alone. This sword matched his armor’s color scheme in being mainly white with gold ornamentation and numerous inlaid jewels. Together, the whole ensemble gave him the look of a paladin.

Naturally, every piece was a top-shelf item created by Gawain. They were all so elaborate and brimmed with such power that Steve, being no more than a common man with no fighting experience, felt unworthy of them.

“I-It suits you,” said Fritz, the former emperor of Istekario once known as Lightning Emperor.

It was clear he was holding back laughter—not because Steve looked bad, but because his miserable demeanor was such a far cry from his usual self. Fritz actually meant his compliment. Steve’s salt-and-pepper hair and middle-aged features were a surprisingly good match for the noble getup, which gave him an inexplicable air of trustworthiness.

“I know I said I’d dreamed of this, but...seriously?” Steve, who obviously didn’t see things the same way, looked up at the ceiling and sighed.

He had no complaints about Sol establishing Party Two—Party One was Sol with his female companions—and including him in it. What he had a problem with was him being assigned the role of a tank.

Sure, there was that time I got drunk out of my mind and went into depth about wanting it when I was twelve, so I suppose part of the fault is mine. But still, why did Sol have to go and remember that? Godammit.

Now that he thought about it, Steve realized Sol could have done this anytime he wanted since then. It gave him the shivers, but at the same time, he also was thankful. It’s just that it was a bit much for him given his current age.

“I confess I am in the same boat as you,” said Ishli, similarly hanging his head.

The former cardinal of Garlaige and current pope was wearing gear that looked like a clergyman’s vestment in every way. Since joining Sol’s faction, he had fully thrown himself into his work, which had resulted in his slovenly and portly form seeing significant improvement. He was still far from looking good in his current getup, but he was getting there.

Like Steve, Ishli was cringing hard from being granted what he had dreamed of in his youth. Even worse, the fact that he had been known for being handsome at the time amplified the sentiment that he had grown too old for it.

Gawain, the Magic Blacksmith who had personally crafted all the gear in this room, frowned with incomprehension. “Why are you two so glum? Are you not happy that the lad granted your dreams?”

After joining Sol, Gawain had received power leveling rather early on so he could gather the materials he needed by himself and was getting quite familiar with the warhammer, his weapon of choice. He certainly looked a lot more comfortable in what he was wearing now than Steve or Ishli did.

“Cut me some slack, will ya?! If it was just a matter of picking a few faces I knew from the guild to join you and me, I wouldn’t be this rattled!”

The sight of true bewilderment on Gawain’s face made Steve snap rather childishly. Even he understood that this was not a mean-spirited jab from Sol but a completely well-meant gesture that, admittedly, was overstepping a little due to their familiarity with each other.

“This is the official second party directly under Lord Sol. Not even you have the authority to make that change, I don’t think,” said Fritz, meaning to console but slightly missing the mark.

Ethelweld laughed. “Titles like ‘king’ and ‘emperor’ and ‘pope’ are now mere trifles. The only thing that matters is how close one is with Lord Sol, and you are by far superior among us in that regard.”

He was right, but since Steve wasn’t Sol himself, he was having trouble simply accepting this paradigm. Furthermore, he felt unfit for the role of tank—which made him the de facto leader—as a complete beginner when the former king of Emelia, a veteran mage who had once gone by the nickname of Mad Prince of Explosions, was in the party too.

Steve was not easily given to whining, but “please give me a break” escaped his lips before he could stop it.

Ethelweld looked at him with a straight face. “What do you think is more uncomfortable: this, or your own daughter greatly outranking you?”

There was nothing Steve could say in response to that. Being a bachelor who naturally had no kids of his own, it wasn’t possible for him to truly empathize with how the king felt.

Instead, he simply sighed. “I’m just saying, I have almost no experience doing this, but right out of the gate, I’m partying with the former king of my own country, the former emperor of another country, and even the sitting pope of the world church. It sounds like a freaking joke is what it is.”

“And from my point of view, I’m suddenly partying up with one of the oldest members of Libertadores,” said Ishli. “I’m feeling quite a lot of pressure as well. Not to mention, I, too, am without experience.”

Steve could see the logic of feeling nervous about interacting with him given that he was now one of Sol’s closest confidants. However, he saw himself as a common middle-aged man who was not at all equipped to lead, or worthy of leading, such illustrious members.

An objective third party could have reminded him that he had climbed to the upper echelons of the Adventurer’s Guild on his own merit and that his current position was a direct result of him building a trusting relationship with Sol back when their leader had needed someone with authority to hide his abilities. He was every bit as illustrious as the rest of his party for having secured a major role in Sol’s success story all by himself. Unfortunately, no such third party was present.

“That doesn’t mean jack to us,” Gawain scoffed. “In the first place, knowing Sol, I’m sure there’s some meaning behind this roster.”

In a way, he was the most formidable member here, since he didn’t really care much about anything other than crafting things that no one had seen before. And in contrast, the former king was probably the most stressed in their group.

“I daresay that Lady Frederica has something in mind as well,” said Ethelweld.

His own flesh-and-blood daughter now represented Sol in practically all political matters and seemed a shoo-in for his second empress consort in the not-so-far-off future. He couldn’t even refer to her without her title in public anymore. No one could imagine what it was like in his shoes, and no one cared to find out.

“I know, I know,” Steve grumbled.

Gawain and Ethelweld were right, of course. What Gawain had gleaned from instinct, Ethelweld had probably already figured out to the tiniest detail. Put simply, Party Two was to be the walking and talking example that those with the strength or talent to be of use to the Libertadores could also enjoy the gift of even greater strength—a boon that had been exclusively God’s prerogative thus far—from Player without having to become one of Sol’s girls.

As a bit of an aside, Steve figured that this venture was four-fifths Sol merely thinking it would be fun and one-fifth him going along with advice from Frederica, whom he now trusted to know best in such matters.

“All those considerations aside, this is a well-balanced party,” said Fritz. “We have a tank in Sir Steve, a physical attacker in Sir Gawain, a magic attacker in King Ethelweld, a healer in Pope Ishli, and finally, I can both buff and debuff with my lightning magic. That’s pretty good as parties go, no?”

What Fritz also saw but didn’t say out loud was that their roster would also be effective at motivating the masses. It was great that the ones fighting alongside Ethelweld and Fritz, who already had reputations for their proficiency in magic, were to be Gawain, Ishli, and Steve, who were already famous in noncombatant capacities. Whereas Sol’s Girls’ sudden rise from relative obscurity to prominence left some room for doubt that they were plants, these three already had long careers and histories that anyone could—and many most definitely would—dig up.

That’s no excuse for having a complete beginner be the tank!

“Indeed, buffs and debuffs are not my forte,” said Ethelweld.

“I’m aware, Mad Prince of Explosions,” said Fritz. “That said, Absolutus alone exceeds the usefulness of any and all support magic.”

“Bah ha ha! You will have nothing to fear!”

Recalling the scene of Absolutus, the Emelian royal family’s unique bloodline skill, blocking a barrage of lost technology weaponry, Steve blurted out, “Wait, what’s the point in having a tank, then?”

It was reassuring to think that attacks from monsters would be nothing in comparison, but at the same time, he couldn’t help thinking that Absolutus rendered his role moot. There was a lot going on in his mind concurrently.

“Being in a balanced party will be a first for me as well. We shall figure it out as we go,” Ethelweld replied. “To your point, however, I hear that tanks can make or break parties.”

“That’s exactly why I dreamed of becoming one.”

Ethelweld wasn’t overconfident. No matter how strong they became and how much Sol plied them with stats and skills, battle with monsters in dungeons and territories would never come close to being absolutely safe. This was why parties placed expectations on the shoulders of their tanks. Steve understood this and was now fixing in the front of his mind what he had dreamed of in his youth. He had once burned with the desire to protect his party, to protect those important to him, with his own shield. It was because of this that he held Reen, who did so with her diminutive form, in such high regard and did so much to support her both as an adventurer and as one of Sol’s companions.

Now that he had been granted everything he needed to carry out that dream, it was time to step up, not lamenting his age or feeling embarrassed.

“One day, I would love to fight alongside your past party, Scion of Sanguine Wind and all,” said Fritz.

Ethelweld grinned. “Oh, the carnage we’ll wreak! With you joining us, we’ll update our name to Five Greats!”

“It would be an honor!”

A part of Steve agreed with Fritz. Four Greats was an extremely famous former party made up of only mages—each a master of one of the four basic elements of earth, water, fire, and wind—and Steve had been unequivocally one of the countless youths whose hearts had raced when hearing of their exploits. His interest had definitely been piqued by the idea of adding lightning to the group and expanding it to Five Greats.

Most crucially, the Scion of Sanguine Wind that Fritz had mentioned was Bernard lu Blanc, Steve’s predecessor. He’d had a few drinks with him before and sincerely looked up to him.

“Speaking of balance, our age difference is quite conspicuous.”

“I apologize in advance for the immaturity I will be bringing to the group.”

“Oh, not at all! On the contrary, I feel the need to apologize.”

There was no getting around the imagery of a young boy being thrown into a group of wrinkled elders. This wasn’t limited to Four Greats, as it was just as valid here in Party Two. It wasn’t so bad that Fritz had to nurse them, as they were still very spry and alert for their years, but they still couldn’t help feeling apologetic toward him.

“I can imagine Sir Fritz not looking out of place in the slightest standing among the members of Party One,” Ishli joked.

Fritz shook his head ruefully and shrugged. “It appears Lord Sol has no interest in that regard.”

This reply implied he had been fully ready to offer himself if Sol had been interested. The conviction of someone who had once shouldered a whole country was impressive indeed. In fact, the offhand comment actually gave Steve a shot of motivation.

Yeah, it’s time to stop being complacent with my position and get off my ass. Though the specifics of our statuses are different, I have to live up to mine too.

“Well then, since we have been given almost entirely free rein to do as we please, what say all of you to resolving that age difference by chasing the myth of medicine that can make one young again?” Ethelweld suggested.

“Nothing would make me happier than seeing the Four Greats in their prime again!” Fritz agreed enthusiastically.

Though he realized this was exactly the kind of thing that would excite Sol, Steve said, “It sounds good and all, but is there any point to us being young again?”

The citizenry would undoubtedly go wild if the members of Four Greats regained their youth, but Steve didn’t think it happening to himself or Gawain would garner the same effect. Supposedly Ishli had been quite the sweet-faced dreamboat when he was young, so maybe it would make a certain constituent of the Church happy.

“Hey, now. I’m all for a longer lifespan if it allows me to make more things,” said Gawain, prompting a resolute nod from the clergyman who wanted to turn back his personal clock.

“All right, all right.” Steve waved a hand to signal his acquiescence. Not being plagued by back pain or shoulder stiffness and constantly having to look for Julia sounded pretty sweet, come to think of it. More importantly, he understood that, more than what it would do for them, the point of this quest was to obtain this eternal youth using the power granted by Sol and to secure it so that they would be the ones to offer it to the rest of humanity.

“I, too, desire to see Bernard, Kevin, and Yolanda restored to their youth,” said Ethelweld in a tone that suggested he had some other intention in mind.

“To see them at their prime strength?” asked Ishli.

Ethelweld shook his head. In terms of strength, he and his former party members were in their prime now, thanks to Sol. Even if they became young again, their strength back then was nothing compared to what they were now capable of.

“I’m not quite sure how to put it... You see, there was a great misunderstanding back then that has since been resolved. However, on the one hand we have a coward who insists it’s too late and on the other a sharp-tongued softie who can’t be honest with herself. I simply want to see them have a different ending.”

Although Ishli, Gawain, and Fritz were completely in the dark, Steve got the references. “Are you talking about my predecessor and drill sergeant?”

Ethelweld chuckled. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you’ve heard of them, given your position.”

“So the stories were true...” Steve shot the king a look. “Pardon me for saying so, but that is not a face that someone of your esteemed position should be making.”

The lines left by many long years sitting on a throne were creased in a childish grin that Steve found himself almost jealous of. After all, he did not have anyone in his life that he could speak of with such emotion.

Most likely having gleaned what Steve was feeling, Ethelweld pulled on the disarming smile that had been crucial to his role as king and clapped his shoulder jovially. “Bah ha ha! A king is but a human. This is how I am when I don’t have to act all high and mighty. You better get used to it, party leader.”

“Well then, let’s get Party Two on the road and do what we must to reunite Your Majesty Former King Ethelweld with Four Greats. Ah, Five Greats, with the addition of former emperor Fritz.”

Party Two was brand-new, but that just meant it was something waiting to be created. It was a bit absurd that he was doing it with a king, an emperor, and a pope, but it should get easier the more life-threatening battles they overcame together. And if he got good at being a tank, he just might get to one day live out his dream of fighting shoulder to shoulder with Bernard, the teacher he owed so much to and held in such high esteem. The adventure he had dreamed of as a boy was waiting for him.

Yep, I really do need to get my hands on that rejuvenating medicine.