Chapter 54 - The Labyrinth City of Lartania (3)

Ravald Greystone was indeed a character whose very existence was a blight. Even among the many characters in Psychedelia, he ranked among the worst—as though someone had molded sheer, unadulterated bastardry into a person.

The mercenary massacre on the thirtieth floor.

The monster Abyssal Core absorption incident.

Chimera experiments on living subjects.

Most of the sinister side stories that unfolded in Lartania during the game happened because of him. In other words, for Lartania’s future, it was certainly far better for him not to exist.

Yet Ravald Greystone remained alive because he was the son of the labyrinth city’s lord. Being the son of a lord who wielded absolute power within the city effectively meant he could reign over it like a king.

... In short, Rine had done the equivalent of murdering royalty. Unable to believe his ears, Alon asked blankly,

"... You killed him?"

"Yes."

"... Ravald Greystone...?"

"Yes."

Rine answered as casually as though she were saying she had eaten breakfast, making Alon’s head spin.

"Really...?"

"Yes, Godfather. Was there a problem?"

"... Why did you kill him?"

"Well... because you said he made you uncomfortable, Godfather?"

"?"

"??"

Question marks seemed to hover above both Alon’s and Rine’s heads.

"Even so, killing him outright is a little much, isn’t it?"

"But if he stayed alive, he would keep making you uncomfortable, Godfather...?"

"..."

As he spoke with Rine, Alon was reminded of one particular fact.

'... One of the Five Great Sins.'

She had seemed like a daughter who had grown up well without needing much attention, making him forget for a moment. But when Alon remembered that Rine, too, was a seed that would become one of the Five Great Sins in the future, he broke into a cold sweat.

'No, but... before that, how on earth did she kill him?'

Ravald Greystone was not particularly strong. But as far as Alon knew, the mercenaries who followed him everywhere were by no means easy to kill. Every one of them was at least A-rank.

So how had Rine, who worked solely as an appraiser rather than in a combat role like Deus or Seollang, dealt with them?

Seeing the puzzlement on Alon’s face, Rine spoke cautiously.

"... Was there a problem?"

Perhaps because he had asked her so many times, she finally looked a little downcast, as though it had unexpectedly occurred to her that she might have done something wrong.

"It’s less that there’s a problem... Will you be all right?"

"In what respect?"

"... Your personal safety, mainly."

"You needn’t worry about that, Godfather."

"Is... that so?"

"Yes. I made absolutely sure it wouldn’t look like I did it."

Watching Rine give a firm, confident nod despite her expressionless face, Alon found himself remembering a phrase he had once seen on an online forum.

'... So this is what they mean by a completely different way of thinking...?'

Alon cleared his throat lightly before speaking.

"Anyway, thank you for thinking of me. Don’t look so down."

"I wasn’t down, Godfather."

"... You looked a little down just a moment—"

"No, I didn’t."

'... She can murder someone practically on par with royalty without batting an eye, but this embarrasses her?'

Alon regarded the decidedly unusual Rine with a touch of wonder, then continued.

"Anyway, try to refrain from anything that could put you in danger."

"... Why, Godfather?"

"Because it could cause all sorts of problems. For one, you could be in danger yourself, and everything you worked so hard to establish could collapse in an instant, couldn’t it?"

"...?"

Rine’s expression seemed to ask what he meant. Though his words were hardly difficult, she tilted her head as if she could not quite understand them. After appearing to give the matter serious thought, she said,

"Ah."

She nodded slightly, as though something had dawned on her.

"Don’t worry too much, Godfather. I understand my duty perfectly well."

Alon was left somewhat bewildered as Rine resumed eating. They were clearly having a conversation, yet he felt as though something was slightly out of sync.

Still, continuing the discussion did not seem like a particularly good choice, so he fell silent.

Whatever else might be said, she had disposed of Ravald for Alon’s sake. It was a little... no, rather more than a little excessive. But since she had ultimately acted for him, he decided not to ask any more questions.

'Still, even if she sees me as her godfather, would she really go this far...?'

Alon was pondering that as he ate a sausage, just as she was, when she spoke.

"Oh, I’ve been wanting to show you the Eye of the Stalker, Godfather. Would you come with me?"

"The Eye of the Stalker?"

"Yes."

Alon nodded at Rine’s request. A short while later, after finishing their meal, he followed her into a room.

"...?"

There, he saw a golden eye floating in the small room.

Surrounded by a halo of blue light, the golden eye made it obvious to anyone who saw it that it was no ordinary object. As Alon stared blankly at it, he recalled what Rine had said earlier—that she would show him the Eye of the Stalker.

'This is the Eye of the Stalker...??'

He could not help looking dumbfounded.

####

As Alon understood it, the Eye of the Stalker he had given Rine was originally just a spherical artifact set with a small, eye-shaped jewel. Its effect was to appraise artifacts obtained below a certain labyrinth floor in slightly greater detail.

In other words, it had not originally been a particularly good item.

Unlike the Essence of the Golden Mane Tribe, it did not even have any particularly noteworthy wording in its lore, so Alon had never imagined the Eye of the Stalker might conceal a secret like this.

"The imprints are accumulating nicely."

Before long, he could infer that this Eye of the Stalker was the item that applied imprints to enhance certain relics. But he did not go out of his way to confirm it.

Because Alon had realized why Rine was showing him such extraordinary goodwill...!

'So this was why...'

As far as he knew, Rine’s shop, Merd, had truly risen to fame because of her ability to apply imprints. That meant her remarkable success was due in some part to the Eye of the Stalker. From her perspective, she could hardly help feeling grateful to Alon.

Of course, Alon had never imagined the Eye of the Stalker possessed such an effect.

... At any rate, with Rine already feeling grateful, it would make things awkward if Alon appeared to know nothing about it.

"I see. You’re putting it to good use."

He nodded as though he had known the Eye of the Stalker’s true capabilities all along.

"Yes. They’ve been coming in a little more slowly since I reached four hundred, but they’re still accumulating well. I think I’ll have them all within a few years."

"I see."

Alon wondered just what was accumulating, but asking might make Rine suspicious, so he merely gave a small nod.

A little more time passed.

"Then let’s head over right away, Godfather."

Together with Evan, Alon followed Rine to the venue for the regular meeting.

####

Alon had two reasons for wanting to join the expedition against the Outer God.

First, it was obvious that the current mercenaries alone would never be able to defeat it. Of course, the mercenaries from the five great mercenary guilds who had gathered to slay the Outer God effectively possessed superhuman strength, much like Baba Yagas or Master Knights. But Alon knew that alone would not be enough.

His second reason was that defeating the Outer God absolutely required the strength of powerful mercenaries who would follow his directions. That was why he was going to the trouble of joining the expedition.

The problem, however, was—

"Tsk."

"One look tells you he barely has any strength. You’re saying we should take this guy along?"

"Ha. Clearly just a big reputation and nothing else. Here to take a share of the credit?"

—the mercenaries did not look remotely willing to follow Alon’s orders.

The four men and women in the meeting room stared at Alon with palpable displeasure as he entered.

Maverick, guildmaster of Terranomad, clicked his tongue and fiddled with his sword, his face visibly brimming with irritation.

Himan, guildmaster of Arcadia, lifted his pointed hat slightly as he spoke, undisguised contempt on his face.

Myaon, the beastfolk woman who led the Seekers of Antiquity, idly spun the dagger in front of her. With the vertical pupils characteristic of feline beastfolk, she watched him and gave a derisive laugh, plainly displeased.

And among them was the guildmaster of Kalimadra, arguably the strongest of the current mercenary guildmasters.

"..."

Argonia, a half-dragon descended from dragons that had disappeared from sight long ago, watched him in silence.

Naturally, that gaze was far from favorable.

'I expected this to some extent, but it’s worse than I thought.'

The thought crossed Alon’s mind as he watched the guildmasters, who had briefly assessed him the moment he entered before immediately turning openly hostile, mocking gazes on him.

He had, in fact, anticipated this situation to a degree. Everyone here was skilled enough to gauge his mana accurately. Above all, they were mercenaries—people who put the law of strength before everything else.

He knew that if he wanted even a chance to talk with mercenaries like these, he first had to earn their recognition rather than be dismissed.

"My noble lord, from the rumors lately, it sounds like you’ve been sticking your spoon into everyone else’s bowl. But now that I’ve seen you, you don’t even seem worthy of talking to us. Why don’t you just go home?"

"Whew."

At Myaon’s sneering words, Alon unhesitatingly flicked his left hand, the one wearing the nail guard, and formed a hand seal.

At that very moment—

CRACKLE!

Without the slightest warning, the otherwise ordinary meeting room filled with ice.

Myaon hurriedly tried to rise at the sudden turn of events.

"Convergence."

But Alon had already formed a hand seal inside his pocket. The instant he uttered the phrase, the surrounding air, along with its mana, gathered around Myaon.

"Freezing."

At the next word, the air and mana gathered around Myaon reacted instantly, forming frost that spread explosively.

CRACKLE!

It imprisoned her.

Myaon was trapped in the ice, still bewildered, without even knowing how she had been struck.

His reason for freezing her was simple. According to the lore he knew, she was the weakest fighter among the mercenaries here, the only one who had not reached superhuman levels.

Alon glanced once at Myaon, who had frozen in place without managing any real response to the surprise attack. Then he moved on, casually passing the many mercenaries who had noticed something happening in the meeting room and rushed inside.

STEP. STEP.

Neither slowly nor quickly, he walked at a measured pace, perfectly calm, as though nothing had happened. He took the chair opposite Argonia.

"I believe this makes me worthy of a conversation."

He crossed his legs.

"What do you say?"

A heavy silence descended over the meeting room.