Since the Unification War, the first Conqueror born in Bergana had emerged, and Labyrinth City bustled with the fervor of a grand festival. In stark contrast to the uncooled excitement filling the streets, the air drifting through a certain room remained cold and stagnant.

“A Conqueror has appeared. And of all parties, it had to be the one that mercenary belongs to.”

Not only was the mercenary his younger brother’s killer, but now he was attempting to stand in Gizel’s way once more, this time as a Conqueror of the labyrinth. Gizel could not help but feel a strange sense of awe at the fate that bound them together so persistently.

“It is hardly mysterious. Demon Fire and a Cursed Eyes wielder. Add Three Magic Attack to that and reaching it would be possible.”

In contrast to Gizel, whose sense of crisis deepened, the old man declared this without the slightest tremor.

“They brought back fangs and claws, but surely they didn’t defeat a complete Undead Dragon?”

Faust voiced his doubt, and the old man answered.

“To lay the complete form of an Undead Dragon to rest, they would have lacked the firepower. Dragons are not such cheap beings that they would fall so easily. The fact that all five returned means they either found a loophole through quick thinking without offering sacrifices, or something of the sort. Even so, what they achieved remains unchanged. Becoming a Conqueror is not something attained by strength alone.”

Even if incomplete, if the Three Magic Attack party had slayed a dragon, then even Gizel’s subordinates would struggle to kill them head-on. In addition to Merrill, they would have to account for interference from the Adventurers’ Guild Bergana Branch and the Borgia soldiers.

“Giusto had to go and get himself killed by such a troublesome bastard.”

Even in death, his younger brother did nothing but increase complications. Gizel could only shake his head in pain. The loss of the many members he had entrusted to Giusto was a painful blow as well.

“Do not lament so, Gizel.”

Spoken as if soothing a child, the words made Gizel frown and shake his head. In the slums, only the old man could speak to him like this. Faust might be considered another restraining presence, but the overly serious man would never manage such well-timed words.

“Do you have some clever plan, old man?”

“If they continue diving deeper, the city’s military strength will inevitably increase. Should a second or third Conqueror appear, we would be cornered. This milestone, the birth of a Conqueror, will cause the city itself, and all its people to get drunk to celebrate. The timing is ripe.”

The withered old man, whose expression was usually as unreadable as a dead tree, certainly smiled. What emotion lay behind it, Gizel could not fully discern. He tried to read Faust for clues, but ever since his failure in the labyrinth, the man’s face had been like a mask, revealing nothing. What mattered was that the old man himself would move. Until now, he had guided others from the darkness, never exposing himself.

“So we’re going all in, huh? Well, however it’s done, I only care that the mercenary dies.”

Gizel was capable of cleanly drawing the line. The monster who had lurked in the darkness was about to step onto the public stage. For Labyrinth City, it would indeed mark a turning point. Accompanied by death, Gizel would attend that banquet as well. If revenge could be achieved along the way, then all the better. His foolish younger brother in the underworld would have no complaints.

Like sludge festering in the slums, the malice cultivated and expanded over long years was quietly about to be born.

◆

When Walm was injured in a battle against the other party, he received treatment and was confined to a guest room. He had never imagined that in such a short time he would return to confinement once again. This time, however, the room was far larger than before, with multiple chambers secured. Meals were provided, along with snacks. The treatment was vastly superior to when he had been regarded as a suspect. That said, Walm was not childish enough to sulk openly. The difference between a Conqueror and a suspect was only natural.

While Walm received regular treatment from a healing mage, Merrill, whose injuries had been the lightest, went out to attend discussions with guild officials. After all, a long-awaited Conqueror had appeared. Expectations were high, and visitors from the Adventurers’ Guild to the military and nobility came without cease. Information about the bottom of the labyrinth was scarce, and everyone was desperate to extract even the slightest detail. As a member of the Adventurers’ Guild, Merrill deflected them using both the marquis household and the guild as shields, but she had no time to rest.

To comfort the exhausted Merrill, Walm had provided a certain ingredient to the Adventurers’ Guild. That ingredient was kraken meat, now reborn as dinner before them. From simply salt-fried tentacles to flour-coated and fried octopus-like dishes, the guild’s exclusive chef had proven highly capable.

“…C-Can you really eat these tentacles?”

Merrill, who had remained calm in the labyrinth and even helped lay the Undead Dragon to rest, now trembled. In his former world, Walm had eaten octopus and squid, but since being reborn here, he hadn’t had the chance. They were somewhat larger, but otherwise unchanged in shape. He was certain they were perfectly edible.

“Sailors hold it in high regard.”

“I know it’s considered a delicacy, a luxury ingredient even, but it’s the appearance…”

“Don’t hold back.”

Walm felt no instinctive aversion to tentacles born of the sea, but Merrill, lacking experience with such ingredients, seemed to require resolve. Seeing the others also staring at the kraken tentacles in silence, Walm urged them on. Even Hari let out a low groan. Walm found it far stranger to eat unknown humanoid pigs, the orcs.

As if rebelling against his words, Mariante pushed her plate toward him, and a goodwill-disguised sales pitch began.

“You and Hari were the most badly injured, so you two should start.”

“Uuugh… Is that not slightly underhanded, Mariante?”

Hari, unusually flustered, attempted resistance.

“Enough of this standoff.”

Without warning, Walm speared a tentacle with his fork and tossed it into his mouth.

“Eh… ah…”

Merrill let out a sound as though he had just swallowed poison.

Meanwhile, Walm focused on tasting the fried piece. The thick-cut meat had an excellent chew. The texture of the suckers added accent, almost bursting in his mouth. The more he chewed, the more flavor spread across his tongue.

“Does it… taste alright?”

Mariante asked cautiously.

After savoring it thoroughly, Walm swallowed and answered.

“It’s good. In terms of texture, it’s closer to elastic meat than fish.”

He was not adept at describing flavors, so he decided that eating more in front of them would be the most effective persuasion.

“It smells good too.”

It was rare to have his eating observed so intently, but they were utterly serious. Finally, perhaps resigned, Merrill stepped forward.

“…I’ll go.”

He carefully brought it to his mouth and began to chew. The others watched, holding their breath.

“Yeah… it’s delicious.”

Merrill’s tense shoulders relaxed into a smile. With a pioneer established, the rest of the party followed suit. The kraken meat they had regarded with such suspicion moments ago was soon unanimously praised.

After finishing the seafood-centered dinner, Walm stood outside the Guildhouse. Though gravely injured, days of recovery magic and rest had healed him enough to walk out alone. Perhaps it was the effect of the kraken. His stomach felt hot, warmth spreading from his abdomen to his head. His heartbeat was faster than usual. The effect was immediate. Without question, it was excellent for nourishment and vitality. It was said that nobles longing for heirs favored it, and that even the dead would rise if they ate it.

From the labyrinth, which had become a sleepless fortress, the usual clamor echoed. Seeking a less crowded place, Walm circled to the rear and eventually arrived before an old stone monument. It was a memorial stone. Dating back to the Unification War, it had fallen into half-ruin without proper maintenance.

From his waist pouch, Walm took out two cigarettes, lit them, placed one at the base of the monument, and brought the other to his lips. He knew full well it was no substitute for incense sticks.

He exhaled purple smoke, watching it disperse into the sky. Bitterness lingered on his tongue. He knew it was bad for his lungs. Even so, he needed it. He had learned that death was heavy, having experienced it through two lives and from various positions. Yet perhaps, as time passed, death weathered away… forgotten and eventually erased.

Smoke rose slowly from the monument’s pedestal. Staring blankly, Walm let the night breeze cool him. Aimless thoughts surfaced and drifted away with the smoke. The spell was broken by approaching footsteps.

“Finished with work?”

Turning, he saw Lizzy standing there, her duties complete. She must have seen him wandering aimlessly within the grounds.

“Yes, my work is done for today. Our schedules rarely align so I was delayed, but… congratulations on conquering the labyrinth.”

The dutiful receptionist had come to offer her congratulations. Crushing the cigarette underfoot, Walm faced her and returned thanks.

“Thank you for coming outside work hours. I owe that conquest to you. If I were still alone, I might still be wandering the labyrinth, or dead. I truly am grateful.”

He spoke without falsehood. The repeated hardships of the lower depths would have been insurmountable alone.

“Supporting explorers is part of my job. And I’ve already received my thanks.”

Lizzy slid back her sleeve, revealing the silver bracelet modeled after Deep Crimson Bloom. She was wearing the gift he had given her.

“Considering the result, that gift is rather cheap.”

“That’s rude.”

Lizzy pouted slightly in displeasure. Walm acknowledged his slip and shrugged in surrender.

“Sorry. I was born in the countryside and raised in the army. I lack manners.”

“Hehe, I feel like I’ve heard that excuse before. But even so, you haven’t forgotten respect for those who came before you.”

Following her gaze, Walm saw the cigarette he had placed upon the pedestal, still smoldering into the night sky.

“It’s not kindness. Just an action tugged by guilt.”

He had been the same in his former world—leaving offerings at forgotten shrines, answering calls from clients even off duty. If he had possessed the strength to look away, perhaps he might have lived differently. Walm grimaced.

Even so, Lizzy declared without hesitation.

“Even if that’s true, it looks like loyalty to me. Far more trustworthy than those who only speak of it.”

“Those are generous words.”

After a silence, Lizzy asked.

“Walm, did you find what you were searching for at the bottom of the labyrinth?”

“Somehow.”

The treasure he had sought, Deep Crimson Bloom, rested quietly in his waist pouch. It meant he no longer had reason to remain in the labyrinth.

“What will you do about the party?”

“My objective is achieved. According to the contract, I intend to leave.”

In truth, his role had only ever been that of a temporary stand-in. For the now-renowned Three Magic Attack party, cleaner and more outstanding companions could surely be found in place of a bloodstained defeated soldier.

“Have you told them?”

“…Not yet.”

The problem was that after returning from the labyrinth, he had missed the timing to announce his withdrawal. To continue relying on their goodwill and dragging things out felt wrong.

“I don’t think they wish for you to leave.”

Walm listened silently.

“Merrill is busy now. Distinguished guests visit constantly. Even so, she worries about you, and the others are the same. Until the ceremony ends, why not consider full membership? Personally, and as a staff member, I strongly hope you will.”

Walm did not answer immediately. The horrific battlefield, his fallen homeland, the comrades who had died… all continued to bind him even after leaving the lands of the Highserk Empire. The suffocating sensation of drowning himself in drink and rotting in sludge was gradually fading. Perhaps his encounters and experiences in Labyrinth City had dulled those memories. Or perhaps he had grown, even slightly, as a person. He did not know.

Lizzy waited without pressing him.

“To be honest, I’ve always disliked Adventurers. I may not be suited for the idea of comrades either. Even so, I’m more accustomed to it than before… and I’ve come to like it, just a little… Yeah… since coming to Labyrinth City, you’ve helped me many times, Lizzy. I won’t be stubborn. After the ceremony ends, I’ll discuss the future with them.”

At Walm’s answer, Lizzy nodded in satisfaction.

Translator – Lyxxna