The Maiden Called Hero or Monster - Chapter 2 - The Monsters' Elegy

   

     A man cloaked in black, with cold-blooded eyes, The Master of Traps, Salvadore, looked down at his prey, a young girl dying in front of him. His heart harbored not a shred of guilt nor could it for an idiot who died so carelessly and helplessly. That was all there was to it.

    Salvadore's face slowly warped into a distorted grin. Yes, that was all it took to bring him the highest pleasure. An adventurer trapped and dying without having cognized what happened to them. The fear of inevitable death. The feeling that one’s hopes and aspirations would all be stripped from them: despair. Those trapped display the true spirit of humanity, all in the brief period before they die. These were Salvadore's works of art.

    What he used this time was quite a simple trap, it was one that would activate once the target stepped on a plate trigger. And, when the prey had lost their composure following the triggered explosion, arrows would rain down on them from firing devices planted around the room. This was enough to kill a person. No matter how hard they trained they would die -- be it a novice or a veteran. Though Salvadore felt as if he had overdone things, in this condition, his prey would soon die. Although he was satisfied with the quality of his traps, fine-tuning them was always difficult. So, in this situation, there was no time for games.

    This time, his prey was a young, healthy woman. From the looks of her, he guessed she was a fledgling adventurer. What he wanted to do was to torture this woman until she went mad. Taking his time and edging her slowly closer to death, how would she scream? How would she beg for his compassion? What expression would she wear on her cute face? Just the thought of it filled Salvadore's heart with bliss, so he resolved to capture his next prey alive.

    Stifling his laughter, Salvadore released his concealment technique and revealed himself. The ranger's art of concealment, with skillful movements, stifled breathing, and equipment coated with magic essence, he was able to completely mask his presence. Sitting down on the empty chest, he wiped the saliva dripping from his mouth. But still, even if the trap itself was over-the-top, he found it his most entertaining one. Just thinking about the fleeting moments when his prey died drove Salvadore to the verge of climax. To him, this pleasure was greater than embracing any woman and even more so than a life of affluence, even the notion of comparison seemed silly.

    Though Salvadore never used to be like this, the same could be said of his accomplices hiding in their positions around him. Despite having now become an outsider, he was initially no different than your average adventurer. The reason behind his transformation was quite simple. He was just tired of living a life of misery. Saddled with a large debt and forced to inherit the shameful legacy of his parents, he worked to pay back his dues. To do so, Salvadore sold his skills to people, with confidence of his dexterity being second to none and as one of the Rangers Guild's best as testimony, his name quickly became widely recognized.

    Around that time, he was hired as a freelancer by a knight born of nobility. Thoughto take it due to his debt. He was abused like a cheap slave for months on end, only to be paid a paltry salary. The knight would spout a constant reminder, "There are plenty of people who can take your place. But before you die, you'll have to work hard to pay back what you owe." Salvadore was forced to walk the line of life and death countless times, and even when he cried and begged to be let go, but his pleas were only met with being told by the knight that he would be accused of a crime and reported to the church, “It's easy to fabricate crimes for trash like you. If you don't want to be punished as a heretic, you’d better work for me, as you always have.” The knight proclaimed derisively.

    From then on, Salvadore's salary was further reduced, and in proportion, his hatred and bloodlust continued to grow. Then, when he finally stepped over the line of morality, he moved to act. He created the most elaborate trap of his life and lured the knight and his companions into the labyrinth. The moment when the guillotine effortlessly cut off their heads, Salvadore let out a scream, with tears streaming down his cheeks, he felt as if he had been reborn. Laying the decaying head of the knight at the gates' of his home, he couldn't stop his laughter from overflowing. He truly felt as if all of his perseverance during those shitty days had finally paid off.

    Still in debt he sold off the knight's equipment to the black market which was quickly bought off at an extremely high price. A price so high that it made all his struggles seem ludicrous. Afterwards, he began to find humans instead of demons in his traps. He randomly set up traps within the labyrinth, and curious fools would end up falling to them, leaving behind their possessions -- there was nothing more amusing than that. Salvadore killed dozens of people, stripping them of their equipment, his notoriety quickly spread, and his guild later expelled him and put up a bounty for his head. But none of this would prove to be an inconvenience in Salvadore's daily life. Occasionally bounty hunters would try and take his head for the bounty money, and he would continue to set traps in the labyrinth every day. If anything, the only thing had changed was that he found his purpose in life. And this meaning to his life: to carefully assess the moment a human being died up close. Thus, Salvadore strayed off the path of humanity.

    Eventually, rangers with similar plights banded together under him and formed their own clique. Salvadore, who became a bounty target, had lost his obsession with money and would generously give it away to his accomplices after leaving some for his own necessary expenses. He had no desire to drink or play with women. There was only one thing Salvadore's heart yearned for: to see the despair on someone's face when their dreams came crashing down.

-

    Salvadore signaled one of his men in hiding, ordering them to behead the trapped woman; and, at the same time, signaled another one hiding near the entrance to ready. It appeared that there was a survivor who remained unharmed due to hesitation. However, her end would still be the same. She would die from an attack from behind. Because the whole passage leading to this room was a trap itself. Salvadore and five others were present in the room, with one more reliable accomplice in the hallway. Each member was of Salvadore's group, and each of them were former rangers, all adept in the art of murder and sleight of hand. Despite being "Rangers," their group was nothing more than a gathering of thieves and murderers.  

    "Heh, it's a bit of a waste, but they're orders from the boss. Die!" 

    Laughing mockingly, the accomplice sharply swung his saber down on the woman's neck.

   

    But the woman's head never rolled. The man's saber suddenly fell to the ground, holding his hand, he suddenly shouted.

    "It hurts! Shit, who did that!?"

    A wooden stick was lying at the foot of the man. The girl at the entrance must have thrown it at him as a final act of resistance. Salvadore's frustration grew. He wanted to enjoy the image of the woman's head tumbling down. Now that that picture was stripped from him, his moment of bliss was destroyed.

    "What the hell are you doing!?"

    "Well, she got in my way. I'll take care of this one first." 

     The accomplice replied with trepidation, as he knew at that moment, Salvadore was not to be disturbed.

    "...... Just get rid of her quickly and cut the woman's head off! Don't delay my pleasure!"

    "I'm sorry, sir!"

    The accomplice quickly closed in on the girl bathed in blood at the entrance. In his hand, he held a dagger with a razor edge that could instantly slit the girl's throat.

    "You little shit. Are you really crazy enough to throw your only weapon at me? Well, you're going to die anyway, so it doesn't really matter. You can regret it in hell when you die."

    "Of course I'm sane. You're the only ones here who’re going to die."

    The dagger suddenly flashed through the air, and the moment it reached the girl's neck, the accomplice winced and cried out in agony. The girl's fist seemed to have struck his abdomen. Then, grabbing him by his hair, she brought her face close as if to intimidate him.

    "U-Ugh....... Damn you!"

    "Don't talk to me, it's unpleasant. And above all, you reek."

    The girl brutishly thrust her hand into the mouth of the accomplice about to speak, and shouted. A flash of light emanated from within his face, and a beat later, his face exploded with a roar. Like a puppet with severed threads, the remaining corpse crumbled to the ground.

    "In the past, I used to try and avoid killing people. I really believed anyone could change. I thought humans were different from demons, but scum is scum no matter what they are. People who've tread off the path of humanity are the same as demons."

    The girl fired a fireball from her palm and set the corpse ablaze. A crimson flame lit up the small dimly lit room, and the smell of burning flesh filled the air.

    Salvadore instantly became more alert. Sorcerers were the ones he watched out for the most. Powerful magic was nothing but a threat. Though powerful they may be, they did have a weakness. It took time for them to cast magic due to chanting, which meant that there would be long intervals of openings between their attacks, and the female warrior here who was meant to buy time for her is incapable of fighting.

    "She's a sorcerer! Don't give her time to chant!"

    Salvadore gave instructions to his accomplices in hiding. No matter how to kill her by any means necessary, their instructions were simple and clear.

    "It looks like there's a lot of you lurking around. This is too much trouble, so I'll kill you all at once."

    "Die!"

    The confederates who released their concealment techniques attacked from all sides. One of them deliberately let out an angry battle cry as a diversion. The real killer was looming behind the girl ready to strike -- when on the offensive, they never would do anything so rash as to scream. This formation was reserved for when they encountered powerful enemies, and its effectiveness was proven by the many people who've fallen victim to it.

    "Back off, trash!!" 

    The girl cursed, and along with a shout, light flashed out from her hands.

    

    It was unclear how, but she cast a spell without chanting. Or perhaps she had already finished chanting? His men panicked when they witnessed the spell being released, but it was all too late. An explosion rang out with a flash, sending Salvadore and his men slamming into the surrounding walls of the room. The full brunt force of her magic hit the man who attacked from behind, ripping his body apart and strewing it about. Wiping the blood from his forehead, Salvadore pulled out his weapon and gave orders to his men, realizing now that this girl was extremely dangerous.

    "Don't let her chant again! Come on!"

    Salvadore's men tried to regroup, but the girl would not allow them to resist.

    "Don't make a fuss! Demons should grovel and die like demons!"

    The girl began to glow yet again while giving a wide smile. Her insane eyes caught Salvadore and his accomplices in their sights. A burst of light and the sound of an explosion echoed again, and this time, the sound of a second explosion ripped through the air without delay. The men were slammed into the walls raising anguished screams. Then a third light flashed, the bodies of his men exploded and turned into scattered chunks of flesh indiscernible from one another.

    Salvadore clenched his teeth, along with armor coated with layers of magic essence as a means of extra protection, he focused all of his strength on defense and somehow managed to hold on. Feeling as if his consciousness was about to fade, he bit his lip and tried enduring. And so he survived. Salvadore, who trained his body from a young age, was confident in his stamina and took pride in his resilience, which was on par with that of an elite soldier.

    "There's still a piece of trash left? You're tougher than I thought you’d be."

    "...... Who the hell are you? Are you some renowned sorcerer?" 

    

    Salvadore talked to buy himself time. While in his head, he vowed, "I'm going to kill this little shit!"

    And to do that, he would need to buy time to regain his strength. He had no sympathy for his dead men, but he would never allow anyone to so much as scratch his pride. This little shit had crossed his path, and he would make sure she was dealt with and torn apart.

    Although his stamina was spent, he still didn't think he was at a disadvantage. She repeatedly cast powerful spells, it was only fair to assume that the time she needed to gather her strength correlated with the potency of the spell. A continuous burst of spells without chanting. He didn't know the details, but it wouldn’t be possible for her to recreate such a series of explosion spells again.

    "Just a hero passing by. And now I'm cleaning up the trash. Demons have a foul stentch, so we ought to take them out, right?"

    Salvadore couldn't help but burst into laughter. No one had ever responded to that question, saying they were a hero.

    "──Haha, hero, a hero, you say? That's a bit much for a joke. Your brains full of flowers or are you really insane?"

    "I get that a lot. Anyway, you're making me uncomfortable.So, will you hurry up and die? When I see people like you who've tread on the path of evil, it makes me sick to my stomach." 

    The girl -- The hero, spit back irritatingly, all the while pointing her outstretched right hand at Salvadore.

    Chills went down his spine. He's never felt such pressure before in his life. Working up a cold sweat, Salvadore placed his hand on an activation switch hidden behind him. His stalling had been successful. He inched closer and closer to this position while they spoke. His strength had somewhat recovered as well, and so, he was ready to act.

    "Hey, don't be so angry, chill out. Here, go ahead and try this."

    The trap had been activated. This is Salvadore the Trapper's masterpiece. Multiple sharp guillotines were fired to tear apart the target. The core of the trap was a magic device built to sense and guide the blades towards their prey. Salvadore need only to designate a target. It would be no exaggeration to say that Salvdore was born to create such a trap.

    Steel blades fired from the top of the room.

    "──Tch!"

    "There's more where that came from!"

    The hero, who escaped by a thread, grabbed the lying woman and tumbled. Salvadore was astonished by her display of agility but continued to fire nonetheless. Again, once, twice, three times she evaded the blades by a paper-thin gap. Three blades had been spent, and he had three left. The hero continued to dodge while protecting the woman until the end and managed to survive. Salvadore couldn't help but be impressed. This enemy was truly amazing. No one had ever made a joke out of his traps before. It was frustrating, but a feeling of admiration overpowered it.

    However, this wasn't the end. There was a reason why he could admire his opponent. He had one more trick up his sleeve. Just when you thought you've dodged everything, the killing blow would befall the enemy, that was the essence of a trapper. Salvadore managed to lead the hero to a particular position. The hero probably thought that she avoided them of her own volition, but he was guiding her with the blades.

    Confirming that the guillotine storm had ceased, the hero spoke.

    "...... That it? Well, that was quite the spectacle. I guess it's my turn now."

    Everything had been calculated, and so, Salvadore activated his trump card.

    "No, it's not your turn. We're done here!"

    "──What?"

    A blade spinning at high speed was fired at the hero from within one of the walls of the small room. Until now, the guillotines were fired down from above, so the hero was slightly hesitant to react this time. Seemingly thinking that she wouldn't be able to dodge, she immediately threw the woman she was carrying to the ground.

   

    Salvadore thought this was a befitting action for a "hero."

    

    And paying the price of courage, the carotid artery of the hero was sliced open, and copious amounts of blood spilled out. Blood, the source of life, splashed onto the sidewall dying it with fresh blood. The hero pressed her hands into her neck but it was of no avail, blood continued spilling out. No matter what she did, no amount of healing could stop the stream of life leaving her body. It was a mortal wound.

    "I was aiming for your head. Your intuition is really extraordinary. And the courage you showed saving your comrade was also admirable. But even after all that, there's nothing you can do now. You're not gonna make it!"

    Salvadore mocked her in a strange voice; licking his lips, he slowly approached the hero. It had been a long time since he had faced such a strong opponent, and after winning such an intense battle, the sensation of victory was overwhelming. His heart beat wildly. He felt like a young boy seeing a naked woman for the first time. He involuntarily swallowed a clot of saliva, now, it was time for pleasure.

    It was time to begin dismembering the girl who claimed to be a hero. Her abilities were indeed excellent, so Salvadore decided that he would keep the girl's head until it rotted. It would be very interesting to witness the cocky, clean-cut face rot away.

    "Oh, before that, I have to dismember her. I want to cut apart her whole body while she's still conscious. I'm willing to try anything."

    Salvadore's mouth began to drool incessantly, and he had no desire to wipe it off.

    "Now, where to start cutting? Oh, please don't die on me yet, I beg you! Let me hear all those lovely screams, like the cries of a bird that's been shot!"

    Pulling out a dagger, he examined the body of the hero and was screaming in delight.

    "I've made up my mind. First the ears, then the eyes, and then I'll cut off your limbs. Then, I'll cut out your tongue and roast it. And in the end, I'll separate your head from your body. How's that for a delicious full-course meal!?"

    Having finished talking about his method of execution, he stood directly in front of the hero; just as he was about to hold the knife to her ear──

    A pale light shone from the trembling palm of the hero, and the neck that should have been slit regenerated in a blink of an eye, stopping the spray of blood.

    "What!? Healing magic?" ── Salvadore's eyes widened in surprise.

    The hero took in a deep breath to as if to calm down, and when she exhaled, she exploded with rage. Her body trembled,  not due to pain or fear, but due to an unyielding rage that filled her body.

    "I'm not going to let you involve me in your sick fantasies, you piece of shit!!"

    An immense force slammed into Salvadore's face, sending him crashing into the wall. The vision in his right eye completely disappeared with an indescribable pain.

    Feeling his face, he found his eye had been crushed, and the bones in his nose were completely shattered.

    "It hurts! It hurts! Aaaaaaaah!! That really hurt, you bitch!!"

    "You're really stubborn, you know. I wanted to kill you with a single blow. I hope you die soon, you're an eyesore."

    "Eh, eeek!!"

    "Oh, come on, quit moving. This is a pain, just die."

 

    The hero slowly approached as she cracked her neck.

    If Salvadore did nothing he would surely be trampled, slaughtered, just as miserably as his accomplices, without question. Salvadore, who was convinced of his victory, screamed in indignation at the absurdity of the situation.

    

    "This is ridiculous! How did your neck heal!? Why!? I'm begging you, just die!"

    

    "Of course, it's because I'm a hero."

    Cornered, Salvadore had nowhere to run.

    "Wait, wait, have mercy on me. I'm really sorry, I really am. I'll reflect on my actions. I also have human blood flowing in me. Please... I'll give you as much money as you want."

    Throwing away his pride as a trapper, Salvadore was now begging for his life. Driven into a desperate situation, a desire not to die appeared in his heart. He did not want to die, and he was ready to do whatever it took to get her to let him go.

    "I wouldn’t ever spare someone like you. You're no longer human. People who've tread off the path of humanity are the same as demons. So don't open that filthy trap of yours again."

    "You monster!"

    Salvadore endured the pain, took out his dagger, and rushed straight to the hero. There was no plan or strategy. This was just his final display of resistance against the intolerable pain and terror.

    The trembling dagger cut only through the air, and at point-blank, the bloodied hero showed a fierce smile.

    "Yeah, I’ve been called that a lot. Oh yeah, that last trap was pretty good -- for a piece of shit like you."

    "W-Wait──"

    The hero swung her right fist with great momentum and caught Salvadore in the face again. His head exploded like a crushed fruit. Brains violently flew out from the force of the blow, and the lordless torso fell back.

    The face of the hero scrunched from the stench. Taking out a rag from her leather bag, she began to wipe Salvadore's flesh and brain matter off her body.

    On this day, the infamous trapper Salvadore and his gang were utterly annihilated, by the hands of a lone girl.

-

    Matari opened her heavy eyelids and met a familiar dirty ceiling. As her blurred vision gradually cleared, she finally realized that she was in her room in the Paradise Pavilion. Her head throbbed and the joints in her body ached all over as if she had a cold.

    "...... Huh, I'm pretty sure I was in the labyrinth."

    Thinking about her situation, she turned over in her bed to see a hero at her desk. Unlike the usual expression befitting of her unyielding spirit, she wore a face so serious Matari thought she was a different person. This was the first time she'd seen such an expression, so she was slightly intrigued. She was curious about what she was doing, though she couldn't see much from the bed, it looked like she was filling out some kind of book.

    "If I get a little closer, could I see what she's doing?"  

    Matari leaned forward in her bed with this idea in mind, causing a pillow to fall to the floor. In response to the noise, the hero quietly closed the book, stopped her work, and approached Matari.

    "Good morning. How are you feeling?"

    "Uh... I feel a little heavy-headed. But I'm sure it'll go away with a little rest."

    "Yeah, well, there's no need to rush. Get some rest. A warrior needs their rest, especially since you'll probably push yourself until you collapse."

    Smiling wryly, the hero brought her a plate of fruit from her desk, which contained various fruits cut into bite-sized pieces. They looked so fresh and delicious. And in a situation like now where her throat was dried out, they looked even more so.

    "You've been asleep all day, so you must be hungry. Go ahead and eat all you want. I bought it with your money, after all, so don't be shy." 

    The hero thrust them towards her as if urging Matari to eat them.

    So, Matari chose one at random and threw it into her mouth. The juice spread throughout her mouth, and a moderate sourness permeated her mouth, stimulating her brain which was in a haze.

    "...... Thank you, it was delicious."

    "I ate one a while ago but, isn't it a little too sour? I asked the master to fix some up for me."

    "No, it's okay. Thank you very much."

    “There's some water over there… Oh, Yeah, I took the liberty of changing your clothes too."

    Matari noticed that she was wearing clothes she didn't recognize, and wondered when the hero had changed her clothes.

    "Oh, huh?"

    "After you eat, you'd better get some more rest. It would be annoying if you collapsed again.” 

   With that said, the hero left the bedside and sat back down in her chair and grasped the pen.

    "...... What's that? What are you writing?"

    "Oh, this? It's a diary. It's nothing that interesting, but... I just thought that if I didn't write down what I felt, I wouldn't be able to calm down."

    The hero showed Matari her diary and what she saw was really just a diary. What she did, what she saw, and what she thought, and so on. It was all written down in this ordinary run-of-the-mill diary.

    Matari felt like something like this didn't suit her. A girl who was always strong, arrogant, irreverent, and wielded the arts of magic, and called herself a hero was now sitting quietly, writing about her daily life. Matari couldn't help but feel strange at the thought.

    "Have you been doing this for a long time?"

    "...... Well, sort of like, yeah, I don't write in it every day. I only write in it when I can write." 

    After a few moments of hesitating, the hero gave a reply and continued rambling.

    "I know there's no point in writing something like this. No one's going to read it, and I'm sure I won't ever read it again, but I think that's fine. Even if I were to disappear, this dairy would remain, and that should be enough for me. So I can at least leave something behind."

    "...... Hero?"

    When Matari called out to her, the hero smiled with a sigh. She had a tired look on her face, a face that wasn't appropriate for someone who was seventeen. All she could read from her expression was a sense of resignation.

    "It's nothing. Forget it. It's just, you know, ramblings."

    With that, the hero turned her gaze back to her desk, no longer intending to speak. For a while, silence enveloped the room. Only the sounds of letters being engraved into the diary could be heard.

    ". . . . . . . . . . . ."

    Matari laid back down on the bed and began to pull at the threads of her memory. How on earth did she “collapse,”? Did she lose consciousness from an epidemic? Something felt off. There was a gap in her memory. She couldn't remember how she returned to the Paradise Pavilion, those memories were completely missing. Matari gave up trying to recall memories from the now and tried to remember the time she worked with the hero. In the morning, she dragged out the hungover hero and left the Paradise Pavilion, Warriors Guild, challenging the underground labyrinth, encountering demons, and meeting Java and his friend. And… yellow arrows.

    Matari's head began to tingle. Her body complained of pain though there were no wounds. She suddenly felt very anxious for some reason and asked the hero.

    "Say, Hero. Why did I collapse?"

    "I think you were too exhausted. You were nervous for no reason. Maybe it's a mental thing." 

    The words of a nonchalant hero returned to her.

    "...... Exhaustion? I don't think so. I'm pretty sure..."

    A scene appeared inside Matari's head. She had rushed into a small room without heeding the hero's warning. She heard the sound of air being released, and sharp objects shot out at her from all directions; suddenly riddled with them, a bright red liquid spilled from her mouth. Then, a sinister man taunted her from atop a chest washed by a scene of red.

    "I was riddled with arrows, and yet my body’s unharmed. Why?"

    Matari examined her body again, and aside from wearing an unfamiliar nightgown, nothing was wrong with her body. Aside from the pain, there seemed to be no other abnormalities.

    "Hero, I don't understand why I..."

    "Noisy. Hold the sermon until you regain your mental strength. Don't complain, and just go back to sleep." 

    With a sullen look the hero told her in a firm tone.

    Matari was still convinced something happened in that room. She was horrified to find out what, but she had to be sure.

    She got up from the bed and started walking to the hero. Her wobbling body hit the table, causing the fruit to fall to the floor. The mangled fruit and the liquid that exuded from the crushed fruit looked like human blood.

    "Why am I still alive, hero? I should be dead, so why am I alive?”

    “Why are you alive? Because you're not dead. You're definitely still alive. Your face is too lively to be a zombie’s. So don't worry, you're still alive."

    "...... No, I was trapped in that room, so, so!"

    Matari pressed her face into her hands. She felt something flowing out of her eyes. A numbing chill coated her body as she remembered her final moments — the feeling of losing consciousness for the last time and the looming fear of death. Even if she tried to forget it, she wouldn't be able to.

    "Noisy, I told you to go back to sleep. We'll talk when you're better. Even if you say you don't want to, I'll beat it into your boarish head. So quit worrying and go to sleep."

    The hero pushed Matari back to the bed and held her down as she tried to resist.

    "B-But!"

    "No buts. Even if you can recover your physical strength temporarily, you can't heal the mind. Sleep is the best way to regain your mental strength, so in other words, all you need is a good night's rest. You don't have to think about anything, just go to sleep──"

    "Heal? Did you save me? But how on earth!?"

    Interrupting her mid-sentence, Matari rapidly threw questions at her one after another. At that moment, she was desperate, her face looked as if she was grasping at straws. Her heart was awfully cold, and she felt as if something was about to disappear. Matari just wanted to be sure she was alive. If she didn't talk to someone, the fear of death would completely overwhelm her.

 

   So Matari grabbed the hero's body with all her might. Clawing at her arms her hands fastened to them, showing an air that she would never let them go.

    "You really don't listen. I'm going to straighten you out, so get ready. But first..."

    The hero stared into Matari's delirious eyes. In response, her body stiffened as she was caught in the blue of the hero’s eyes. Her body slowly relaxed, gazing into her dimly lit eyes, the looming fear of death subsided, and her gelid body was washed away by a relieving warmth that enveloped her heart.

    Eyes wide open, the hero muttered only one word.

    "Sleep."

 

     The battle with the unpleasant demons had ended, and the room was dead silent, as if the death and turmoil that occurred moments ago never happened. The smell of blood and burning human flesh filled the air, and despite being used to this aroma, it still frustrated the hero just as much.

    "I went too far, but I wasn't about to let one of them escape. Though now my body is completely exhausted."

    Initially, the hero planned to kill their leader in one punch, but her attack ended up being half-hearted. With her debilitated body, sighing, she decided not to fight empty-handed until her strength had returned.

    And The hero wasn’t picky about weapons. If they get damaged, find another one.

    Therefore, the hero took the dagger the demon had used. There were no signs of cracks, and the quality of the blade seemed to be quite good; so, it would suffice as a disposable weapon.

    The hero attached the dagger at her waist and approached Matari, who remained lifeless on the ground. Dropping to one knee, she observed her body closely. Matari’s body was riddled with dozens of sharp arrows and was bleeding profusely. The impact seemed to have shattered her bones. The blow to her heart appears to have been the fatal wound. There was no way she could have survived. Light would never return to those open, empty eyes── Normally.

    ". . . . . . . . . . . ."

    The hero pulled out the arrows one by one, inexpressibly. The moment she would pull out an arrow, the feeling of it tearing through her flesh was terribly unpleasant. An arrowhead was caught in the bone, and when she forced it out, it was adorned with skin and flesh. The hero removed her broken armor piece by piece to take care of the arrows in her back. Each time she moved Matari, her head rolled around lifelessly, and her hollow eyes would catch the hero. She reflexively held out her hand and closed Matari's eyes; trying to keep it together, her breathing became ragged. Touching a dead body for so long made her feel like she was going crazy - And who knew when those dry lips would mutter curses aimed at the hero.

    "Why didn't you save me before this happened?"

    The hero was having auditory hallucinations.

    "Why did I have to die while you got to live? Why, why, why? Why!?"

    While holding in the urge to vomit, the hero pulled out the last arrow and threw it away. To calm her mind, she briefly shut her eyes and inhaled slowly. The rotten air mixed with the smell of blood collected in her lungs and was exhaled out. The hero repeated this cycle a few times over.

    ". . . . . . . . . . . ."

    An air of uncertainty hung over the hero as to if what she was about to do was right. She had no way to know and could not judge for herself. Wouldn't it be happier for her to die like this? Nevertheless, the hero knew what she wanted to do. If she had no desire to help her, she would have just abandoned her, in this case, it would be the sensible thing to do, but she didn't. Always choose your own path for yourself. If you do, you won't regret the other choices you didn't choose, even if you end up not making the right decision.

    

    The hero turned Matari on her back and folded her cold hands on her chest as if she was praying. She did not believe in god, she believed it was necessary for her to be in such a posture.

    "Unite the spirit and invoke the spell, so as to not be drawn in. I'm alive. I am alive. I'm undoubtedly here."

    Affirm it with your words, don't give in to the temptation. Heroes are no exception. Don't listen to the voices of the damned.

    Putting her left hand on her chest and her right on Matari's, a faint light began to emanate from the hero's body.

    "... O wandering, wretched soul, answer my prayer and return to this vessel once more."

    A pale light flowed through the hero's body into Matari. At the same time, life drained from the hero's face, her breathing became erratic, and her heart beat intensely with a cold sweat trickling down her back. She bit her lip to endure as she felt consciousness about to fade; ignoring the warm, unpleasant touch that wanted to make her turn back. Never listen to the sweet nothings whispered into your ears.

    

    An immense pain coursed through the hero's body, the hail of arrows that caused Matari's death; that very pain was eating away at the hero's spirit.

    "──Not yet, it's still not here. Come on, things are getting dangerous. So come on, hurry up. We're not gonna make it. Now!"

    "Come back, you boar!!"

    The hero roared, slamming her right onto Matari's chest. A blinding flash of light was emitted, flinging the hero backward. With her consciousness on the verge of breaking down, the hero stumbled to Matari's side. Pressing her ear to her chest, she could hear her heart beating, and raising her hand over her mouth, she could feel her breathing. Immediately she cast a healing spell and healed the wounds on her body. If she had been awake, she would have to face the full brunt of her injuries all over again; though fortunately, she was unconscious. The hero remembered the times in which she had healed herself while conscious, which were all quite painful predicaments.

    "I managed to do it. It's a good thing you came back to life, I thought I was really going to die."

    The hero had only ever used the resurrection spell a few times in her life. It violates several taboos, it is an abomination beyond the realm of humanity.

    When was the last time she used it? She recalled, they were once her friends. Wasn't it after she used this spell they treated her like a monster? It's strange. She revived them, and yet they scorned her.

    

    Incidentally, there were limits when using the resurrection spell. The vessel for the soul must remain in this world. In other words, in the case of illness or death from old age, the body that has died cannot be healed, so the person would die again. Furthermore, if the reanimator is unable to endure the pain of their cause of death, the resuscitation will fail. The stake was one's soul. As it drags the souls of the dead back into this world, it leaves itself vulnerable. If the hero were to answer the voice that lured the living, she would most likely die - the price if one’s spirit were to surrender to the sweet whispers.

"I'll never use it again. I’ll probably die next time."

    She could tell the voices drew closer than before; until now, they never had been so close to her ear. Next time, she feels that they would be right in front of her. She was able to hold out this time, her body lost all of its vitality, and her mental strength was worn thin. It felt as if her soul was badly battered. Her palpitations had yet to cease, and her vision was waning.

    Shouting, "I can't do this anymore!" the hero complained, lying on the floor, and spotted the headless corpse of the demon, which only worsened her mood.

    "Ah, I'm exhausted."

    Turning to look at Matari, the hero saw she was still unconscious. Her armor was probably damaged beyond usability, the damage would lead one to believe its user was definitely dead. It would be too much trouble for the hero to come up with a way to explain this to her, as she was too lazy.

    "I want to lie down in bed right now. I'm really tired. It's even hard to breathe now."

    The hero sincerely sighed and thought about why she was so tired, but just thinking about it made her even more so. Matari, who was the culprit, wouldn't return to consciousness for a while. Resurrection could heal bodily wounds, but it couldn't heal a wounded mind. The best way to remedy such a thing was to sleep. With that in mind, the hero was so mentally drained that she couldn’t move. This meant that she would have to wait in this room full of corpses and entrails until the forced transfer.

    Checking the star on her left hand, it would be about thirty minutes. She thought to herself that it would be bad if a horde of rats showed up now.

    "Come to think of it, if there's a transfer spell to return to the surface, would it be possible to transfer down into the labyrinth?"

    She decided to make it a point to ask Matari or Rob next time, and so, the hero tried to sit up.

    ──At that moment, clapping could be heard from the entrance of the small room, driving the hero to frown, wondering what kind of idiot would be clapping.

    Maybe those bastards had come back to life as zombies. She regretted not burning them more thoroughly. Thinking that regret should be rectified immediately, the hero stood up and turned around to face the presence.

    "──It's so bright."

    Pink, which wasn't easy on the eyes, burst into her field of vision. Even in the dark depths of the labyrinth, it somehow glowed, almost as if it was asserting its dominance. The hero shielded her eyes with her hands, slowly opening the gaps in her fingers little by little. She saw someone wearing a pink pointed hat, and a pink sorcerer's robe could be seen. From under her pointy hat, long silver hair dropped down to her waist.

    The hero never grew her hair long, as she's entirely devoted herself to her war against the demons. She didn't have time to worry about her hair.

    Adorned in pink, the woman carried a crystal wand topped with skulls. She seemed to be in her late twenties or early thirties. She could be called beautiful, and her taste and character seemed quite bad. The hero's first impression was "Pinky," who had terrible tastes and a bad personality, and Pinky, with her bad personality and terrible taste, started talking.

    "That was such a sad and moving scene, it really left me speechless. A girl mourning the death of her comrade performs a requiescat ceremony while enduring her sadness. How tragic, oh, I feel like I'm going to cry."

    With meager acting, she sent her a sympathetic gaze in looks only. Wiping her eyes with the handkerchief in her hand, but she still couldn't hide the contemptuous smile on her face. It was apparent she was mocking her. And she seemed to have no intention of hiding it.

   

     ──She was rotten to the core. The hero who was aware of her own warped nature understood instantly. It's not good to associate with these kinds of people. The right thing to do was to immediately push her away.

    "Alright, then if you're satisfied, will you get out of here? You're an eyesore."

    "Oh dear, how cold. Are you feeling emotional because of the death of your comrade?"

    For every response, she would get two annoying ones back. The motivation to continue this conversation was diminishing rapidly, and what tiny remnants of her mental strength remained were withering away.

    Pinky, the sorceress, spun her wand and approached the leader of the demons, who had parted with his head. No matter how hard she looked, she would never find it, as the hero blew it to bits with her proud fist, evident by its remnants scattered on the floor.

    Pinky poked and prodded his torso with her staff, letting out a "hmmm," as she curiously observed the corpse.

    

    "Hey, did you kill Salvadore and the others? I'm not sure a brat like you would be capable of killing someone like him. I wonder what happened."

    "I fell so fast that I accidentally tore off his head. It was really an unfortunate accident, I'm sorry."

    "Oh, really?"

    "And now I'm offering my condolences, may they all go to hell and suffer together forever. Now get the hell out of here."

    "Huh, you're a really funny girl."

    A thin smile crossed her face, and Pinky flicked the body with her cane. The headless corpse slammed into the wall, spattering black blood everywhere. The hero who was exposed to the splash of blood opened her mouth to complain.

    "Hey, don't start with the blood."

    "I'm fine. I use magic makeup to keep blood off me. After all, it's important for a woman to be beautiful, and I'm willing to invest in that."

    "Oh yeah? Just get out of here. Look, there's an exit!" 

      The hero pointed towards the entrance, but Pinky remained unperturbed.

    "So tell me, how did you kill Salvadore the Trapper? He isn't the kind of guy that would be taken out by a novice with a temporary permit. He's killed a number of bounty hunters gunning for his head, so I'm curious, how did you manage to do it?"

    Even though Pinky's smile remained, behind her gaze were eyes of suspicion, and the atmosphere around them steadily grew tenser and tenser. The hero checked the remaining time, but there was no notable change from before. Unfortunately, it looked like she was going to have to keep Pinky company.

    "So, when I fell──"

    "Why are all of his dead men in pieces? It's a very grusome way to have been killed. It's as if they exploded from the inside."

    Pinky ambled around the room, examining the corpses one by one. All of them were in terrible states.

    The hero thought to herself as if she was in someone else's shoes.

    “After doing whatever they wanted, it was absurd for them to hope to die like normal humans.”

    "Did the alcohol they were drinking ignite and bow them up? You know, strong liquor can catch fire, yeah, it definitely does. I saw it with my own eyes. They were drinking and dancing with fire."

    Without thinking, the hero replied appropriately. After all, it takes mental strength to make excuses - and this was the result of not thinking it through. If a fool actually did die while dancing and breathing in fire, she would definitely like to witness that.

    Pinky gradually began to get irritated, her expression grew stiffer and stiffer, and her glare became sharper.

    "I guess you won't give it to me straight then? Maybe I should pry myself."

    "You gonna do it? I don't mind. Though I'm not going to go easy on you, so prepare yourself. Oh, yeah, you should give your will some thought."

    The hero met the woman's provocative gaze with a twisted smile. If she really tried to attack, she would beat her more than half to death.

    Their violent gazes collided for a brief moment, and the air was filled with tension. Pinky broke the pressure in the air and looked away, shrugging her shoulders.

    "...... Maybe we shouldn't do this today. A dangerous person who somehow killed Salvadore. Even if they just seem like a little shit, it's always good to err on the side of caution. It wouldn’t be very smart to recklessly attack."

    "That would help me too. I'm too tired for this. I'm done dealing with you hag in pink, you're so tenacious and persistent." 

    The hero responded with a wave of her hand.

    Pinky's expression turned red for a moment, but it quickly dissipated. Her character and tastes were terrible, but her funny face was interesting, so the hero raised Pinky's rating.

    "Well, before we part, let's talk business. I'm quite busy as well."

    "...... Business?"

    At the hero's dubious look, Pinky smiled and showed the back of her hand. There was a six-pointed star imprinted on her hand, which emitted a suspicious red glow.

    "I am the sorceress Edel Weiss, also known as ‘Edel the Necromancer.’ I deal in the arts of fire magic and corpses.”

    What appeared to be human souls emanated from the body of Edel Weiss, also known as Pinky. Floating around her, they let off an eerie pale blue light. The hero presumed it someday would possess a corpse, as she recalled seeing a demon of her ilk before.

    "...... A necromancer."

    The fact that she went through the trouble of deliberately revealing her hand showed she was confident in her abilities. It seemed that this woman wasn't just pink. So, the hero went on alert and prepared for a surprise attack.

    "I hate it when you call me that. I haven't even done anything wrong."

    "You haven't done anything good either. Just like the rest of you necromancers."

    "I have. People become lifeless lumps of meat when they die. So I collect them while cleaning them up at the same time, and use them to kill demons. Then the church gets their magic essence and I receive high praises from the guild, so there's no need for worry of expulsion."  

    Lowering her left hand, Edel firmly gripped her staff with both hands. The drifting human souls entered the crystal of skulls and illuminated their empty eyes.

    "So what kind of business does this necromancer have with me? I don't want any dead bodies."

    "It's simple. I want you to sell me the corpse of Salvadore and your comrade."

    "Huh?"

    The sudden proposal stunned the hero.

    "The truth is, I was initially going to ask Salvadore to sell me the corpse for my meat wall. As Salvadore only collects heads and does away with the bodies. But now the seller has changed, and now I'm negotiating with you. Do you understand?"

    Showing off an eerie grin, Edel turned her gaze to Matari who was lying on the floor. This woman was definitely a pervert, the hero strongly believed so. So, Pinky it was.

    "I don't care if it's Salvadore or Samanthadore or whatever, but this girl is no good. Because she's alive."

    In response to the words of the hero, Pinky’s expression was that of someone who just heard something stupid. She really didn't seem to believe her one bit; however understandably, it would be strange to think she was alive after seeing the devastation that was her armor.

    "Well, she does have her hands crossed in a way implying signifigance. She looks like a corpse to me. I understand your desire for her to survive but no matter how you look at her, she is dead. You need to accept reality, otherwise, you won't live to see tomorrow. In the labyrinth, it's important to move on. You have to keep moving forward."

    "Yeah?" 

    The hero replied to Pinky's helpful sermon in a barbed tone.

    "That's right, there's no lie in what I said. Well, how much? I'll give you one silver for Salvadore, and I'll buy the blonde girl for ten silver pieces. That's an unprecedented price for a mere corpse, you should be thanking me."

    "Hm."

    "Salvadore has nothing above his neck and his body is severely damaged, so he'll serve as a disposable meat shield. He'd be worth more if he were more intact, as he had a robust trained body. On the other hand, the blonde girl has a beautiful face and still looks healthy. I'll use her until she breaks."

    "What are you talking about with such a rejuvenated smile on your face?"

    Edel was smiling as if her garden of corpses was about to be in full bloom.

    "Everyone becomes lumps of flesh when they die. They rot, maggots infest their insides, and they decay into bones. I'm just merely speeding up this cycle. I don't think there's anything wrong with that."

    "You only think that because your head is infested with maggots. I'll be sure to check when you're dead."

    "Thank you very much. Here's your money then. Take it, and accept it with gratitude."

    Saying that, she threw a bag of silver coins at her. 

 

    The hero caught it and pulled out a single silver coin, and tossed it back.

    "I'll take one coin. The headless one is yours to do as you please with. But not Matari. I'll say it again, she's alive. That's why I'll never sell her. If you doubt me, come here and see for yourself."

    "You're really persistent. Well, if it makes you feel better. I'll take a look and say a prayer while I'm at it, you should be grateful."

    She raised her hand deliberately in dismay and bent down beside Matari, narrowing her eyes to observe her.

    And a few moments later,

    "Huh?" 

     Edel, bemused, looked at the hero in suspicion.

    "How is she? She's breathing properly and has a pulse. And unlike your kind, I don't use depraved methods."

    "...... You're lying. Why is she still alive? How could she possibly survive such deep wounds?"

    Seeing the current state of the armor, Edel predicted what kind of injuries she would have.

    She touched the body to confirm there were no wounds, and muttered in dismay.

    "──My god, this is impossible. What the hell is going on here?"

    "She got lucky, didn't she?"

    Seeing the hero again play the fool, Edel shot a glare at her.

    "You can't just get lucky. Even the most skilled clergyman can't heal wounds like this. There's no such thing as a healing spell that convenient in this world."

    Edel shut one eye and lost herself in thought.

    "Well, anyway, give it up. It would be kidnapping to take a living person, you know. If you try, you will become my enemy."

    The hero intensified her voice but Edel paid no attention to her. Seemingly unable to accept the fact that Matari was alive, she ignored the words of the hero and plunged into a whirlpool of thoughts.

    "...... I saw a strange light just now. This girl, no, there's no way she could use such a thing. There's no such thing as a perfect resurrection spell in this world."

    "Hey, listen."

    "...... Huh, I guess it can't be helped. I'll just have to put up with this headless Salvadore. And here I thought I'd get a lively, beautiful corpse. What a shame."

    When the pervert spoke words befitting a pervert, the hero decided to ignore them.

    Edel slammed the tip of her staff into the floor and released a blade of magic that severed Salvadore's left hand, causing it to fall in front of the hero. A red-black liquid began to flow from the surface of the open wrist wound.

    "What are you doing? Are you harassing me?"

    "I'm not one to steal other's credit. This is your catch, not mine."

    Looking closely at his left hand, one could see an engraving of a crossed knife and key. The hero assumed it represented his profession, as Edel's hand also possessed a similar engraving, a red hexagram.

    "What do you want me to do with this hand? Do you want me to make an ornament out of it?"

    Among demons, there are those who use human body parts to make adornments; and among humans, there were those who made armor from the skins of demons, the two were alike in this way.

    "You fool. You're supposed to bring back the body part with the engraving of their profession when you kill a bounty target. Show it off when you get back to your guild, I'm sure they'll all be surprised."

    Showing a suspicious smile and with a twirl of her staff Edel began to chant. 

 

    Meanwhile, the hero picked up the severed hand and tossed it into a leather bag filled with rotting tails. Now, she had a pile of foul smelling rat tails and the hand of a demon.

    The mood of the hero turned gloomy. She didn't care for the money, she just wanted to incinerate it all on the spot. As refreshing as it was sure to be, she refrained. As soon, there would be a variety of places for her to use the money.

    "Well then, I'll be going. I will remember your face. There’s still questions I'd like to ask you, and I want to listen to your answers carefully. Until we meet again, I pray you're alive and well then."

    Drawing out her last words, Edel poked the ground with her staff causing the crystal skull to exude a red glow, which enveloped the headless Salvadore. After a short while, the body sluggishly rose and staggered to the entrance of the small room.

    "...... Are you taking that home with you?"

    "It takes some getting used to. And I don't take them with me back to the city. I send them to a certain location and summon them only when needed."

    "......That so?"

    "Well, goodbye. Until the day we meet again."

    Bowing reverently, Edel made her exit, humming as she left, with a headless Salvadore following close behind.

    The hero hung her head and praised herself for somehow not collapsing on the spot.

    "That woman was like a storm. And now she knows my face. I don't want to see pink for a while, and I want to get the hell out of here. How much longer?"

    

    The hero mumbled to herself while Matari still lay unconscious. In the end, the hero waited in that spot until the transfer spell was cast. Fortunately, neither rats nor other demons appeared; this could be attributed to Edel and the headless Salvadore clearing the passage before. But the hero had no way of knowing. And when their time was up, the hero and Matari were sent back above ground, the hero so weak she almost fainted, but she held out.

    

    The hero carried Matari with all her might trying to get back to the city. Naturally, as she dressed in blood, the gatekeeper spotted them and issued them a stern warning.

    "You will not be allowed to walk the streets covered in blood, it would lead to a disturbance of public order. If you need a change of clothes, you'll have to pay for it, and if you don't like it, clean yourself off in the water." 

    So the guard told the hero.

    Reluctantly paying a hundred copper coins again, the hero wrapped herself in the white robes of the Star Church, with them seemingly letting Matari go due to her injuries.

    The arrogant gatekeeper observed Matari's condition, and with a skeptical stare, wondered how she was still alive, though he held his questions, he couldn't be bothered worrying about every adventurer passing through.

    With Matari on her back, the hero slowly began her journey back to the Paradise Pavilion, and to the Warriors Guild to exchange the demon parts for cash.

    "It's been a pretty busy day. Well, tomorrow, we'll take it easy. We'll relax, drink and get a good night's sleep. Yeah, let's do that."

    The sun had stooped below the horizon, and the city of Arte was revived with crowds of adventurers and travelers. The hero looked at the cityscape with a weary face and returned home.

-

    

    Night in the Warriors Guild. 

 

    Guild members could be seen returning one after another from the underground labyrinth, making the place very lively. The unharmed and surviving adventurers exchanged their parts for cash as proof of triumphing over the demons. Some would use this money to celebrate with their friends, and others, head out to the streets to indulge in women. Those who are too lazy to do either laze around drinking in the glory of their victories.

    

    The Warriors Guild is a renovated tavern with all its facilities intact. The old location of the guild was aging, and after a new guild master took over, they opted to relocate.

    Serving alcohol was just one of Rob's hobbies and was a side job. It went without saying that he took his job as a guild master very seriously. If they don't give a certain amount of magical essence to the church every month, the guild master would be replaced. He was well aware that other guilds ridiculed the Warriors Guild as a trash can. Though the church holds them in high regard. As they have many members due to accepting almost everyone that came their way, naturally, the amount of magic essence they produce was substantially high.

    

    On the other hand, the Swordsmen Guild selected its members based on experience and those with backgrounds of nobility, even conducted examinations. But despite priding themselves on a few elites, their earnings correlated with their low number of members. Albeit the guild’s low turnout of magic essence, their guild master had yet to be held responsible. The church also continuously overlooks this transgression. Rob was intolerant of them and secretly planned to integrate the entirety of the Swordsmen Guild into the Warriors Guild someday.

    

    Incidentally, Rob was in a good mood today, as today, a lot of magic essence was brought in. It was safe to say that he was swamped as both a tavern master and a guild master, and in ten years, he’s thought to retire, and focus on his side job.

    

    There were many newcomers this evening, and each seemed to be getting valuable advice from their senior guild members. Those who've survived in the labyrinth share experiences and speak precious words that no amount of money could buy, so the newcomers listened intently with serious faces.

    "Hey, Rob. Business is thriving today, isn't it? By the looks of it, you can't stop smiling, can ya?"

    "Yeah, but I don't know if I'd want my side job thriving."

    "You don't say! Now I can't even tell which one's your real job."

    "I guess my idea of relocating to a bar was right on the money, huh?"

    "Your predecessor was a coward."

    "Haha, he’s always been."

    Rob chatted with an old veteran as he handed him a drink.

    "Phew, this drink makes me feel alive. This is really an important ritual that shouldn't ever be missed."

    "Heh, Quite the ‘Ritual’, when you do it all day everyday."

    "I can't help myself, I wouldn't be able to calm down if I didn't. Ah, if only there were more of a variety of alcohol and some more women, then I'd be all over this place."

    This veteran's daily routine consisted of cashing in demon parts, having a few drinks, and heading out to the entertainment district. It was a decadent life, though he didn’t mind that at all. He claims that he'll live as he pleases, and die when his luck runs out.

   As a veteran he was highly skilled, making his living on the fiftieth floor of the labyrinth. If one could make it to the fiftieth floor, they would be considered a first-class adventurer. If one could make it to seventy, they would be among the best of the best. Tread beyond that, and they would be considered a monster. One would have to be insane to not only fight against such mighty demons, but also withstand the constant assault of an even more virulent miasma. No single person of the lower floors could manage that. There were some who thought to hunt using hit-and-run tactics, but the risk was too great. Not that there was anything else one could do, it just wasn’t realistic.

    The hundredth floor of the labyrinth was currently the lowest level. All of the suicide squads that reached it ultimately died of miasma poisoning. Only the will of a warrior who returned to earth using a transfer stone proved that it was indeed the lowest level. Though he too followed in the footsteps of his comrades, and passed away.

    "If I were to do that, I'd just make the bar my main business."

    "When you do, be sure to let me know. I'll give you my continued patronage."

    "Maybe when I get fired from my position as master. But, unfortunately, my position's going to be secured for a good while longer. We're able to provide enough magic essence to keep the church’s eyes off of me. So I need you guys to work harder so we can get a nice assortment of liquor on our shelves."

    The old veteran gaily laughed as Rob offered him a new drink.

    "Haha, then you should focus on actually training the new recruits. Sometimes it's good for the master himself to pitch in, you know. Java's been complaining about it too, that everything's pushed onto him."

    "I'm paying for his time and effort. He should be happy with the easy money he's making. He'd have to unearth a talent that'll make me sit up and take notice."

    As he joked, he remembered a certain girl. It was still too early for him to tell if she was a gem, but she was certainly someone to keep an eye on. And Matari, she'll be great when she gains more combat experience, she had enough potential. That was why Rob went out of his way to train her personally. He really believed she had a bright future ahead of her.

    "Heh, happily accepting a difficult request like that is a tall order. It'd be a shame if you lost your life while babysitting some fool. I even heard the young bunch of nobles Java led took off crying. They really lack guts."

    The young children of nobles, who were so unruly and pompous despite being just newcomers, all went through the process of leaving the guild. These people would never be issued exploration permits. That was the rule of the church. Even if their equipment was splendid, their strength however, wasn't. They originally intended to join the Swordsmen Guild but failed the exam and had no choice but to settle for the Warriors Guild.

    "Our guild is full of dropouts from the other guilds, so there'll always be a lot of people who don't know what they're doing, and many look down on us because of that. So, it's my job to raise them up somehow." ── Rob shook his head, blurting out, "Good grief. If it were that easy, I wouldn't be having so much trouble doing it."

    "There's a difference between being able to use a sword and being able to fight with one. Understanding that is the first step to graduating from being a fledgling."

    "Easier said than done. You'll end up on the other side before your body and mind can understand that much."

    When joining a guild, those with magical talents would definitely want to join the Sorcerer or Clergymen guild. The ability to use magic cannot be learned through any means of training, as it all depends on luck upon birth. By joining a guild, you would be taught about a variety of magics as well as how to wield them. And if they acknowledged your capabilities, you would have a gateway to serve as an official in other countries.

    

    Those with untoward upbringings or possessed particular skills would be referred to the Rangers Guild. There they would be taught how to lock pick, handle traps, swordsmanship using a short sword, as well as archery. And as one improved, they would even learn how to suppress their own presence. Due to many having lived rough lives, their abilities beforehand are relatively high. The conditions for joining the Rangers Guild are only to be recognized by the guild master themself, nothing more.

    Then there's the Swordsmen Guild, which inherited the swordplay of Ramsus, one of the three heroes. And the Scholars Guild, which focuses on the study of demons and the labyrinth.

    

    Then finally, those who have no magic capabilities and can join neither the Rangers nor Swordsmen Guild will find their way to the Warriors Guild, where there are no specific requirements to join. Basically, anyone was welcome. Rob wouldn’t deny anyone unless they were a fool who underestimated the labyrinth. He would teach you how to fight like a warrior, and how to work together with others. But if they didn’t take the initiative to ask, he wouldn't teach them anything. Dozens of people are replaced with new faces every month, and he wasn’t free enough to take care of everyone. Those who can't team up with sorcerers, clerics, or rangers will have to band together with the rest of their fellow outcasts. And all these people could do was hang around the upper levels of the labyrinth, until they fell into despair due to their lack of ability. And push yourself too much, you'll end up a corpse; the maze was not so forgiving.

    "...... That cocky little brat who calls herself a hero. I wonder how she'll turn out, though I couldn’t imagine her ever becoming a top-notch warrior. But I don't think she'll go down so easily."

    As Rob rubbed his chin, lost in thought, the guild door slowly opened. And in came a cheeky girl wrapped in a white cloak distributed by the church; it was the return of the self-proclaimed hero.

    "Hey, look, the new girl's back. By the look on her face, I'd say she brought in quite the haul. You must be wondering what this pretty lady has accomplished too, aren't you?" 

    The veteran with a red face let out a hearty laugh as the girl's seemingly pretty face piqued his interest. Don’t be fooled by her appearance. Otherwise, you'll end up like Java.

    "...... Oh, well, yeah."

    Rob, who's seen the girl's strength and ferocity firsthand, briefly replied.

    "What's with the dry response? Aren't you interested?"

    "No, just a little. Of course, I'm interested."

    "Come on, it's the new girl's first day back from the labyrinth. You're the master, you should be more encouraging. Newbies need to be praised for inspiring growth, isn't that right?"

    "Hey, hey. What are you doing?"

    "Hey, you bastards, it's the triumphant return of the new girl! Let's get thing's going, shall we!?"

    In response to the old veteran's call, the others drinking to their hearts' content shouted in succession. Their applause and teasing words of praise caused the place to suddenly go wild.

    "Oh, the return of the warrior girl! Here's to the hero's triumphant return!"

    "Hahaha, have you become a master rat hunter?"

    "You don't think she got just one tail, do ya? Gahahahaha!"

    "No, no, there must be ten of them! That's quite an extraordinary achievement!"

    "All right, let's toast to the Valkyries!"

    "Cheers!"

    Seeing the place in an uproar, the girl scowled.

    Rob couldn't help but cover his face with his hands helplessly. When the drunks were like this, they were beyond control.

    The girl was carrying a clogged leather bag and appeared to be very unhappy.

    With no other choice, Rob called out to her.

    "Hey, over here. I deal with the exchange of demon parts for cash. I want to get this over with quickly, so come on."

    When prompted, the girl nodded slightly and made her way to the counter. Her clothes, draped under her white cloak, were stained with blood, and the smell of rusted iron began to waft through the air.

    The veteran who was drinking liquor at the counter cheerfully called out to her.

    "Hey, how was your first time in the labyrinth? Did you really get so excited that you came? Or were you just being nice to me? After all, it was your first time, right? ── I'm just joking, hahaha!"

    "Shut up. I'm tired so go away."

    "Haha, you're not very friendly, are you, little girl? You'll never find a hubby at this rate. A woman should be more modest, in life and in bed."

    Laughing disagreeably, he began to pat the girl on the shoulder.

    Rob braced himself for another outburst, though the girl didn't seem to mind. He predicted that if the veteran's hand started to dance around, he would end up just like Java.

    "Hey, do something about this drunk. He's making me want to punch him in the face."

    "Hahaha, you're quite bold! That's the spirit!"

    As the old veteran fell behind in a good mood, the girl took a deep breath.

    "Speaking of which, where's Matari? Weren't you two together?"

    Rob frankly asked as he wondered why this girl came alone.

    It was hard for him to imagine that anything terrible could've happened to her. He wasn't going to babysit her, but he still wanted to see who she would become in the future.

    "She's sleeping in our room at the Paradise Pavilion. She was slightly injured because she got caught in a trap. But there's nothing wrong with her body, so she'll be better soon."

    "...... I see. That's good."

    Rob's shoulders slumped in relief, as he was the one who decided that it was safe for her to take on the upper levels of the labyrinth. If she were to die on her first day, even if it were to be her fault, he wouldn't be able to sleep at night.

    "Here, these are the parts of the demons we killed. Cash them all in, please. I'm tired, so please be fast."

    The hero strenuously put the leather bag atop the table. And as she said, she seemed to be very tired, wearing a pale complexion.

    "So, after your first day, are you going to be okay like that? Your complexion doesn't look so good."

    "I've been through a lot. So, can you make it quick?"

    "All right, then let's check it out."

    Wanting to wrap things up fast, Rob opened the leather bag, and saw it was filled to the brim with rat tails. The putrid smell in the air made even Rob glower. It was the stench of blood and sewage mixed which formed to create an awful malodor. Turning his face away from the smell, he laid the bag on its side and began removing its contents. It was rare for someone to bag this many tails on their first day. Most turned back only after about ten tails.

    "Ugh, I’ve always thought the smell of earth-scraping rats was unbearable. It's like a punch in the face."

    "I’ve even heard some people say that this smell is irresistible. They say it becomes habitual when you cross the line. The other day, I saw someone sucking on a fried tail as if it were a delicious treat."

    "I don't think I could befriend someone like that....... All right, let's tie these up."

    Just picturing it in his head was enough to make his drink taste bad.  

    Rob shrugged his shoulders and gathered up the tails in bundles of ten.

    "This is pretty good; rats are still pains in the ass. Take a look at that, I'm impressed, little girl. I'd say we've got ourselves a promising recruit here, wouldn't you say Rob?"

    "Well, yeah."

    The old veteran stroked his bearded chin and voiced his admiration, and the other guild members who were raising a ruckus did the same. There were at least a hundred of them; even with a cursory glance, one could say there were that many.

    These were undoubtedly good results, and Rob also agreed with that.

    "It's not a big deal. They were a little heavy though."

    "Its weight is definitely a problem. Sooner or later, you'll kill them and completely gloss over their tails. You'll realize two coppers a day aren't worth it, and at that point, you'll have graduated from being a novice. Good luck with that, little girl."

    The veteran offered support to the girl in an uncharacteristic manner. He seemed to have at least a sense of responsibility as a senior who looked after the younger generation.

    After having counted the tails, Rob recorded them into the guild's achievement list.

    "A hundred and ten earth-scraping rat tails this time. I hope you don't mind that I count this as a joint effort with Matari?"

    "Yeah, no problem."

    "Good. Here's your reward then. Make sure you share it well....... Not bad for your first time. I hope you'll continue to work hard and contribute to the guild."

    A hired appraiser carried out the process for extracting magic essence from demonic parts. It was one among many of a guild’s obligations to deliver the extracted magic essence to the church. If the amount of magic essence extracted fell below the church's expectations, they would brand the master incompetent, and they would be relieved from their position as guild master. Although, there was a multitude of things needing appraising, it just wouldn't be possible to ask something like that of the Warriors Guild; as by and large, there was barely anyone there who could be stressed to use their brains. Therefore, the guild master also had to go out of his way to educate the guild members. In exchange for his hard work, the return was even greater. Rob, who used to be a mercenary soldier, obtained a mansion comparable to that of a noble. Among the guild masters of the past, he was considered the most successful.

    "I'd say thank you but, there's one more thing. You missed one."

    "Really? It looked like there weren’t any more tails here......"

    "Here, this."

    Rob looked suspiciously as the hero carelessly turned over the leather bag. Dirt and caked blood spilled onto the counter. Finally, a familiar object appeared, whose color distorted and had turned a horrifying black, fell onto the counter. It was a severed human wrist.

    "Hey, this isn't very nice. What the hell's going on here?"

    "His engravings from the Rangers Guild… It's not good to mess with dead bodies for fun." 

    The old veteran advised in a reproachful tone. He assumed it was cut from someone's dead body as some twisted joke.

    One could tell it was from a member of the Rangers Guild due to the occupational engraving on the back of the hand: A crossed key, and knife. It was definitely from the Rangers Guild.

    "There’s apparently a bounty on his head. I was pretty surprised when I found out. I think his name was Samanthadore? I don't really remember, but it was something like that."

    "...... There aren't any bounties for someone with that name. If you're trying to trick me, then you'd better stop it. If we appraise it, we'll know in a heartbeat." 

    Rob warned her in a low voice.

    Lying about the head of a bounty was a serious crime, as it directly affected the credibility of the guild, you'd be subject to expulsion immediately. If the girl with a temporary permit were to be expelled, she would never be allowed to enter the labyrinth again. As she'll have lost the opportunity to obtain an occupational engraving, which in turn, would prevent her from being able to pass through the barrier. Conversely, if she had an engraving, she would be able to enter the labyrinth, even after expulsion.

    "I'm not lying. Some pink lady told me. I don't want to remember what she was wearing; it wasn't easy on the eyes."

    "Pink lady?"

    "Yeah. I dubbed her Pinky the perverted sorceress."

    When Rob heard the words "Pink lady," only one person came to mind. The mad sorceress, Edel Weiss. It wasn't at all wrong to call her a perverted sorceress. She was a woman who narrowly managed to avoid having a bounty placed on her. She has violated taboos by manipulating corpses and even dwells in the middle levels of the labyrinth on her own. He admired her abilities, but he really wished she'd keel over and die. If Rob ever encountered her in the labyrinth, he would kill her. Just the thought of being manipulated was grody and left him sick to his stomach.

    "I know all too well who that woman is....... oh well, let's see what we can find out. This time, I won't punish you for anything. I'll just say that that “Pink Lady” tricked you."

    "Haha, what's the matter, Rob? You're acting so sweet. You're not into younger girls, are you? I'm gonna have to tell your wife."

    When the old veteran teased him, Rob grimaced and brushed his hands away.

    "Shut up. If you do that, I'll dilute your drinks twice as much."

    Since Rob's wife was a very gullible person, she'd get really angry. It would take a whole week before her mood would improve.

    "Please, have pity on me. It's just that I admire your kindness, truly the epitome of a guild master."

    "It's too late to praise me now. I won't give you anything for it. Hey, I need you to appraise this left hand."

    Rob asked a skinny man who worked in silence to appraise the left hand.

    This thin man was a sorcerer hired for any extraction work in the guild. Despite being a skilled sorcerer, he didn’t possess the physical strength to withstand exploring the labyrinth, so he could not succeed as an adventurer.

    Though as long as you can use magic, there's a place for you somewhere.

    "...... Yes, if you'll excuse me."

    "That's the hand atop the counter. The thing's unpleasant to look at, so could you make it fast."

    " ...... Understood." The appraiser replied in a murmur walking up to the counter.

    By holding his hand over the object and concentrating his attention on it, he would obtain detailed information about it. According to him, this was a basic application of magic. Though Rob had not the slightest interest in the specifics, he just assumed that if that's how it was, then that's how it was. As long as the authenticity was determined, there wouldn't be any problems.

    When the work was completed, the appraiser, without any emotional intonation, reported the results.

    "...... Corresponding with the information on the arranged bounty, there is no doubt. This is the hand of Salvadore the Trapper."

    The appraiser's words caused a momentary silence to fall over the guild. Rob asked again for confirmation.

    "What, did you just say?"

    "...... This is the left hand of Salvadore the Trapper. It's an accurate identification based on his engraving. I hereby certify that the bounty target has been killed."

    "──Haha, this has got to be some kind of joke. There's no way a rookie could've beaten Salvadore. That bastard’s insane, there's no way he'd ever let his guard down."

    The old veteran denied raising a dry laugh, and those around him listening each agreed one after another.

    "That's right. That bastard's got a lot of nasty tricks up his sleeve. He might be a piece of shit, but there's no mistaking his abilities."

    "Why don't you take another look at it? I bet it's just the hand of some random corpse that was lying around!"

    But Rob couldn't nod in acceptance of their words. There has not once been a mistake in the appraisal magic. Appraisers never lied about their work, as to lie is to dishonor one's dignity. Furthermore, perjury by an appraiser is a serious crime. Worst case, they would be branded a heretic by the church. And once that happens, the inquisition would follow them to the ends of the earth, seeing to it that they were undoubtedly erased from this world. So, there was no need to risk such a thing and lie - In other words, this left hand unquestionably belonged to Salvadore the Trapper.

    "We appraisers take pride in our work. We'd rather die than give a single false appraisal."

    "No, no, but... There's no way she could've killed Salvadore! Not by some little girl like her!"

    The old veteran slammed down on the counter; any intoxication having been completely drained from his face.

    "Hey, so can you get the money? I'm really tired, so I just want to get home quickly."

    While ruffling with her hair, the silent hero asked with a face of exhaustion.

    But Rob didn't answer but instead asked a question.

    "How the hell did you do it? This isn't someone a novice like you could kill. And he even acts with accomplices. I can't tell you how many good men he's killed."

    "I killed them. I killed their whole clique."

    "You killed them all?"

    "Yeah, I broke them all up. Salvadore, right? I blew his head off. He was just a fast little bastard. Oh, but there was a pretty interesting trap. It wasn't bad at all."

    Without any particular change in her expression, the hero replied.

    "Are you calling Salvadore a push over!?"

    "Oh, you expect me to believe that?"

    "If you're so suspicious of me, why don't you go see for yourself. There's a trap in a small room four floors down. Though you probably won't be able to identify the bodies, they died in a way befitting of trash." 

    The hero's mouth warped into a fearsome smile, causing those around her to gasp.

 

    Rob was overwhelmed, but he calmly thought about what course of action to take. In any case, he thought he should check it out. However, the possibility of the trap being active remained, so it would be dangerous. In the meantime, he would inform the Rangers Guild and the rest would work itself out. It was the Rangers Guild that put a bounty on Salvadore's head in the first place. He betrayed their trust and became the proprietor of their hatred for the way he treated his kin.

    "Go report to the Rangers Guild and tell them we killed Salvadore four floors down in the labyrinth. We've got the proof, so if they want more details, let them come to me."

    "Understood."

    When Rob gave the order, one of the guild members responded and quickly ran out of the guild.

    The rangers would soon come barging in at any minute, as the Warriors Guild, who was mocked and scoffed at by them as only having numbers, took the head of their priority target.

    "...... Alright, let's get done what needs to be done quickly. I, at this moment, certify the head of the bounty Salvadore the Trapper, killed. His bounty was ten gold coins....... Well, done."

    "I don't believe this."

    Putting the gold in a small bag, Rob handed it to the hero. The Warriors Guild was utterly silent as everyone stared in awe. Only the appraiser could be heard, carrying the bundles of tails and retreating to the depths of the guild to start the extraction work as soon as possible. All that mattered to them was to make correct appraisals and extract magic essence from demon parts, that was all.

    "I wonder if I can buy some new gear with this, and these clothes have reached their limit too. Oh, and I need to buy some new armor for Matari."

    The hero's face turned into a frown after the sight of her bloody clothes peeking out from beneath the cloak caught her eyes.

    ". . . . . . . . . . . ."

    "Now, if you'll excuse me. I'll make sure Matari gets her share of the gold as well, so don't worry. 

    The hero waved lightly and turned her back languidly.

    Rob couldn't help but let a few words slip.

    "Who the hell are you? Really, I can't believe this."

    Overhearing this, the hero slowly turned around with a smile.

    "I'm a hero. I exist to exterminate the demons. You don't have to believe me, because I don't care what anyone says. I’m still a hero, I chose to remain a hero, and I've continued to fight. That's why, I'm the hero."

    "What are you..."

    "I was just thinking out loud. You don't have to worry about it."

    Seeing the hero's smile, Rob couldn't say anything more. She was no novice. This was a monster who's seen countless bloodshed.  A monster in a girl's skin. There was no hope or despair in those eyes. She had the eyes of someone who came to an awakening and broke.

    A cold sweat trickled down Rob's back, and his brain issued him a warning -- never get involved with people like this. He's seen human eyes just like this before. They belonged to madmen who challenged the lowest levels of the labyrinth, where a miasma of magic essence filled the air. People who, despite their wealth, fame, and power, endlessly march through to the lowest depths of the labyrinth. Even as they suffered from severe miasma poisoning, they just drank large doses of neutralizers and tread on deeper and deeper. People called them the Death Squad. One of them was Rob's predecessor. Rob desperately tried to stop him; as if he had gone any further, he would surely die. But it was of no avail; almost as if he was possessed, he pushed away anyone who got in his way. And, when they reached the unprecedented hundredth floor, the miasma had completely eaten away at their flesh, putting an end to their human existence. Despite the hopelessness of the situation, he was the only one to return to the ground by using a transfer stone.

    "The lowest level of the labyrinth── is the hundredth floor."

    Uttering his last words, he spoke once more.

    "I know, the true nature of the demons──"

    It was then he died.

    What was there? What did he see? He died with all the answers. Though his face was melted, it was flushed with a smile. He was truly happy from the bottom of his heart to know about everything.

    ". . . . . . . . . . . ."

    "Hey, what's wrong? You don't look so good."

    The hero approached Rob's face, almost as if she knew he was in awe. A warm breath touched his face, sending a shiver down his spine. He never would've thought he'd see those same eyes here. She had the eyes of a dead man. His instinct screamed to not look into them and not to get involved unless he wished to die.

    The hero silently walked away from Rob and began to walk with her back to him again. Everyone in the guild looked down to try and avoid eye contact. No one made a sound, and Rob could do nothing but watch in dismay as the hero walked away.

    And when the door finally shut completely, they all collectively sighed in relief as the tension suddenly broke.

    "Those horrible eyes, they're dangerous. Rob, you remember them, right? Something's broken. If nothing were, she wouldn't have those eyes -- Just like with those guys. Hey, you feel the same way, don't you?"

    The old veteran tried to shake off the clinging horror from his body and spoke up. This man was also one of those who witnessed those people change up close. He knew the feeling of fear from back then.

    "...... Don't ask me."

    These were the words spoken from Rob's heart.

-

    The rangers were commencing an investigation on the fourth floor in the underground labyrinth, having received word of the bounty on Salvadore's head being claimed. Since their very guild produced this notorious criminal, they were all eyeing the opportunity to take him down. Salvadore's infamy was the stigma of the rangers, as he hid in the slums and trapped his pursuers and bounty hunters, killing them one after another. The guild's master, Klau, had reached the limit of their anger and was ready to mobilize. But, then news of Salvadore's defeat had reached them, and with the shame of having the head of their bitter enemy stolen from them, they completely lost face.

     Looking down at the yellow arrows on the stone floor with a feeling of dismay, a man who seemed to be the group's leader muttered.

    "Hey, there's arrow’s drawn on this floor too. What kind of idiot would do this?"

    "Heh, apparently some lazy fool from the Warriors Guild painted it, but the guy was eaten by a Hellcat while he was painting."

    "...... So, we've been beaten to the punch by a guild full of dumbasses like that?  This is so pathetic it makes me want to cry." 

    The leader caressed his swollen cheeks with a sullen face.

   His body was as big as bears but contradictory to his looks. His current mood exuded the atmosphere of a small animal.

    The guild master's harsh punishment broke many important things.

    "Pick your head up, boss, and cheer up! Why don't you work hard again to regain master’s approval?"

    "That's right. You just happened to get unlucky this time."

    "Would luck have been enough to kill Salvadore?"

    "No-No, that's..."

    It seemed as if his men were trying to comfort him, though, at a loss for words to his response, it had the opposite of the intended effect.

    "That's enough. Anyway, remove all these arrows. They're the reason newcomers and gullible idiots keep getting caught in traps." 

    The leader of the group stomped on the arrow and gave instructions to his subordinates.

    "Why don't we just leave the work of those fools alone?"

    "Even if he was expelled, we still have to clean up after our own. There are things that even people like us must uphold. If you understand that much, then get on with it!"

    "Yes!"

    "...... Salvadore, you big asshole."

    The leader of the group, Bogan, paid particular attention to Salvadore. At a glance, he could tell that he would improve substantially if he polished his skills. So Bogan himself instilled in him various skills and arts of combat beknownst to a ranger, and Salvadore absorbed the techniques like dry soil soaking up water. With his natural talent as a foundation and his accumulated experience, Salvadore became a trapper worthy of being called the best. Bogan was genuinely happy to witness his growth.

    

    That all ended when he was expelled for killing his employer and a number of other atrocities that led to his downfall. He's even taken the lives of his comrades. Unable to let him live any longer, Klau put out strict orders to kill him and bring back his head. Bogan raised his heavy head and volunteered to pursue him, to ease the pain of his former comrade who descended into madness with his own hands.

    

    Bogan couldn't believe that some little girl from the Warriors Guild had slain him. He thought it had to be some sort of joke. However, once he saw the left hand, which was shown as proof, it undeniably was Salvadore's. How did they fight? How did he die? Bogan saved the thoughts for later, as the men he sent ahead of him returned with a report.

    "Boss!"

    "I've been meaning to tell you all to stop calling me that. I'm not the guild master."

    "But my boss is my boss. Master doesn't seem to mind it at all, it's fine."

    "No, it's not good at all. It sounds like I'm the boss of a bunch of thieves."

    "What should we call you then?"

    Bogan was troubled for a moment and recalled the name of a particular general. He was a brave general who hailed from the Kingdom of Yuuz and made a name for himself in the central border zone. The troops he led went under the alias, Steel Division.

    "Yeah, right. Then how about Steel Bogan. How's that? It sounds strong, doesn't it?"

    His men looked up at Bogan in admiration as he struck a cool pose.

    "Understood, boss!"

    "That's our boss! He looks so strong!"

    "I'll follow you for the rest of my life, boss!"

    "...... You guys don't get it at all, do you?"

     Bogan clasped his head.

    Even if they were a little dumb, they possessed the skills and knowledge of a ranger. It was really a wonder how they mastered things like lock-picking, stealth, traps, and poisons, and even performing high-level assassinations. The world was indeed a strange place. Through his men's eyes, it was odd that a man as big as Bogan could be nimbler than they were. A giant bear who was as agile as a cat, wielded a great ax which he used to slaughter his enemies, and with huge hands, could dexterously craft traps. He was even good at sewing, and was no stranger to cleaning.

    "So, what do you have to report?"

    "Yeah, that's right! There's trouble up ahead!"

    "What's the big deal? Did a flock of rats show up?"

    "No, boss. It's a mess, but we found the body of one of Salvadore's men!"

    "You should've told me that first, you idiot! If we don't find Salvadore's head asap, my head’ll be on the line. Do you know what kind of punishment I received from Klau this morning?"

    Guild master Klau was very scary when she was angry, she wouldn't spare any mercy. If you tried to make any excuses, she would whip you, and the sores from the beatings would remain on your face.

    Bogan brought his finger to his swollen cheek and began gently stroking it. If this was the remnants of a “mild punishment,” what would have happened if she was truly furious? It was too horrible for Bogan to even imagine. Bogan only once ever objected to her after losing his temper, but he was easily beaten back and thoroughly punished by Klau. The following punishment was horrific, to say the least.

    Forgotten nightmares began to creep back into Bogan's mind, and his body began to tremble and shrink down, even his big ax was shaking. They were supposed to be husband and wife, though in reality, their relationship was more akin to that of a master and a servant. It went without saying who the master was as Bogan raised the children and did the housework.

    "Boss, get a hold of yourself! You're blue in the face!"

    "Ugh, shut up! I'm coming right now, so show me the way!" 

    Bogan shouted angrily, biting his tongue.

    His men led him to a small room where the bodies of Salvadore's men lie. Once they reached the red arrow, Bogan and his men stopped. Despite having been used to this, their feet stopped on their own. Bogan was speechless in light of the carnage lying before his eyes. Pieces of human flesh were littered about the room, and blood adorned the floor and walls. There was no way to tell whose body was his.

    "This is horrific. What kind of battle took place here?"

    "The room is still intact, and I can’t smell any gunpowder fumes, so that rules out the use of any explosives. Quite possibly, some powerful magic was used here."

    "The bastard Salvadore wasn't sweet enough to let someone chant in front of him. If he were that stupid, someone would've taken his head a long time ago. They must've been a true warrior to have killed him."

    Everyone racked their brains but still couldn't come to a conclusion. So, for now, they shelved asking questions and continued to investigate.

    "Boss, that's Salvadore's guillotine trap. That's just the thing we need to prove he's dead."

    His men pointed to a well-polished and sharp blade. This was definitely a trap made by Salvadore. Bogan recalled seeing something like this before, but it was only in its early stages as a prototype. Looking back, remembering Salvadore's modest smile of the past, Bogan felt gloomy. He might've had a quiet character, but he was truly ambitious. It was too bad, even if it was his own fault. But now wasn't the time to sink into sentimentality.

    "All right, let's get 'em all. Even if he fell unto evil, his technique and traps were first-rate. It would be a shame to let them fall into the wrong hands. Listen, I want every last one of you to grab everything!"

    "Yes!"

    "Aye!"

 

    People were observing Bogan and his men working within the small room while in hiding. In their hands they held crossbows, arrows loaded, and fingers on the triggers so they could fire at a moment's notice.

    "They must be from the Rangers Guild. The biggest among them is Bogan. It seems like they're already in the process of retrieving the tap.

    "...... Beat me to it. It was paramount that we take extra time to prepare. But I had not calculated that they would act so quickly."

    With a brown cloak and a square scholarly cap, a woman with round glasses and a pickaxe on her back let out a sigh. Unlike the others, she had nothing in her hands; her name was Lulurile, and she was a member of the Scholars Guild. When she caught wind of the death of Salvadore the Trapper, she rushed into the labyrinth to recover the elaborate trap he had created.

    

    However, the Rangers jumped into action faster than her. She reckoned they would have at least had an hour to spare. Rangers were indeed agile, but many of them were not good at taking coordinated actions. The very fact that they were ahead of them meant that they miscalculated how desperate they truly were. Lulurile figured that Bogan acting as the spearhead of the operation might have been a significant factor to this.

    "What should we do? We could put up a smokescreen and shoot them all at once with the poisoned arrows. They're completely off their guard."

    "I'm afraid that wouldn't be possible." 

     Lulurile shook her head at the scholar's proposal.

    The Scholar's Guild was filled with people who'd do anything to further their research. Dead men tell no tales.

    "They're just a bunch of bandits anyway. They'll die eventually, so who cares?"

    Lulurile was sure everyone here shared that mentality. But she didn't want to go that far. She wanted to only paralyze them and be done with it. It was all annoying to her. She was confident that if they could make the first move, they could take out the rangers.

    "Curiosity killed the cat. Isn't that the perfect proverb for our current situation?"

    "Lulurile?"

    "──That's enough, you scholars. Try anything funny, and I'll kill you here and now."

    "Huh!?"

    When one of the scholars turned to look back, his body petrified. Before they knew it, a man with a weapon stood behind them. This was why Lulurile said their plan would not be possible; by the time she noticed, the man was already at their backs. Any chance of victory was almost completely gone. During the commotion, other rangers who had been suppressing themselves appeared one after another, each with knives hugging the throats of each of the scholars, including Lulurile. The moment someone did something suspicious, there would be streams of red.

    "We have no intention of antagonizing you."

    "You've been having some pretty wild conversations for people of your kind. We can't trust smart people like you. Boss, what should we do with these guys?"

    As the ranger called out, a man with a large-bodied man approached from inside the small room. He held a massive ax in his hands, and with one swing could cleave the heads off all the scholars.

    "Oh, and here I thought you guys found a bunch of rats, but it's just a bunch of scholars. You do your research in the strangest of places."

    "Nice to meet you. My name is Lulurile. We belong to the Scholars Guild."

    Lulurile was the first to give her name. If she made the wrong choice, she would be dead. And she had no desire to die in a place like this. There was still much work left to be done.

    "My name’s Bogan, and I'm the Submaster of the Rangers Guild. And right now, I'm just cleaning up after my family. So, what's your aim? If you lie, I'll kill you all one by one."

    With a hand gesture from Bogan, one of the scholars was brought forward, threatening to kill him the moment he lied.

    "We've come to take the trap of Salvadore the Trapper to help develop a new weapon. But since you beat us to it, we were discussing our next course of action."

    "Well, now I get what's going on. But I'm afraid that you’ve wasted your time. We're going to be the ones to make sure this trap is disposed of."

    "There's a saying, 'haste makes waste.' We messed around too much. We don't deserve to enter this room. In other words,' we're just stupid."

    "You couldn’t put it more simply, you're right....... For a scholar, you're quite an interesting woman. Even though you're humble, you've been looking for an opening from the start, huh? You know, I don't mind people like that."

    Bogan let out a hearty laugh, and his men joined in the laughter as well. Amidst such laughter, she could feel the hostility in the air fading.

    "Boss, we'd better get back soon. We're running out of time."

    "Alright. Did you finish gathering the traps?"

    "Aye, all that's left is the mice meat on the ground."

    "All right, let's let these scholars go. We're busy, and we don't want to have to kill you. If you had fired your arrows first, we'd all be dead right now. Lucky bastards."

    

    "Eh!?"

    Bogan smiled at the man who had proposed the extreme plan earlier.

    The man was terrified, and his face had paled. The man had a radical plan, but his character wasn't aligned with his words, that was just proved.

    Satisfied, Lulurile readjusted her glasses.

    "All right then, do your best to make a good new weapon for us. I'm looking forward to it, Lulurile."

    Raising a transfer stone, the rangers were enveloped in light and returned to the ground above.

    All that was left was Lulurile, standing there. She entwined her fingers with her braids and exhaled. She was not aware of it, but she was nervous.

    The untied scholars, feeling weak, all hunched over, all relieved from the fact that they were spared. They still had a mountain of research to attend to. Lulurile shared their sympathies, but she was not afraid of death, but she did not want to die as she had much to do. If things broke down into a fight, she intended to drag some of them down with her, if not all of them. Cleverly disguised in her scholarly clothing, she had a crossbow hidden on her right arm. Of course, it had been coated with a deadly toxin and was ready to fire at any moment. But Bogan and the others had seen right through her. Lulurile was adept in long-distance combat utilizing her crossbow, but she could also fight close quarters. She has gouged out the brains of many demons with the pickaxe she carried on her back. She liked the convenience of being able to do excavation work and to crack open demon skulls with a single tool -- being physically capable was vital for a scholar.

    "That was a close call this time. I thought I was going to die."

    "Bogan was a really understanding and helpful person. He looked like a bear, though appearances can be deceiving."

    As long as you can communicate with them, they're better than demons. But there are even people who think demons are better than humanity, especially in this rotten town.

    "What do you want to do now?"

    A quick-turning scholar asked for Lulurile's opinion, but thinking that there was nothing of value left in the small room, she felt there was only one thing to do.

    "I'm going to incinerate this room just to spite myself. If insects were to sprout up from the scattered corpses, it would be unsanitary. So let's make it a little grandiose."

    "Understood. I brought a lot of chemicals with me, just in case a situation such as this occurred. This time, it will be especially exciting."

    A well-prepared scholar began throwing miraculously colored poison’s and chemicals from a bag into the room. A peculiar smell hit their noses.

    "It's really a shame. If I had Salvadore's trap, my weapon would have made significant progress. Well, spilled water won't return to the tray, it's too late now."

    Lulurile muttered an old proverb from an old book she read. Not many people understood its meaning, but it didn't matter to her. It was fine as long as she understood. Some people say that the essence of a scholar is to convince others to accept one's ideas, but Lulurile didn't care. The most important thing was to convince yourself first and foremost.

    "It's an improved type of crossbow, right? Once it's finished, I’m sure we’ll be able to wipe out the sorcerers."

    "Yes, it's a powerful crossbow specialized to displace sorcerers. Well, I'll give up this time and move on to other research. Everything’s a matter of chance, isn't it?"

    "When you say other research, do you mean the ball that's supposed to replicate the effects of magic? The old guild master had a bitter look on his face the other day when he heard of it."

    Another research conducted by Lulurile was to make it possible for those not endowed with the abilities to use magic. While conducting her research, she came up with a new type of weapon. It was founded on the idea that if she could create something that was as effective as magic, it would be equivalent to the use of magic itself.

    "Research is the continuous cycle of success and failure in the pursuit of progress. I don't mind it at all."

    With a faint smile, Lulurile took out a bottled concoction. After confirming everyone inside was evacuated, she threw the bottle into the room. With the sound of a large explosion, the inside of the small room erupted into flames, and the lifeless corpses caught on fire.

    "We have to use our heads. Even if we can't use magic, we'll find a way to create fire using our brains. We'll surely repay those conceited sorcerers who look down on us one day."

    Lulurile smiled thinly, and her fellow scholars stared at the flames in amusement, already forgetting that her life was at stake moments ago. Mass produce weapons, traps, and chemicals that anyone can use, and crush the arrogant sorcerers. That was the shared dark ambition of the scholars assembled here. In the name of researching effective strategies against the demons and developing better weapons, they have been wholly devoting themselves to the research of anti-magic weapons — for example, the crossbow, an effective weapon that can easily be utilized by anyone. Coat the arrow in poison, and its lethality dramatically increases. All one had to do was pull the trigger while the sorcerer was chanting, and when they finished, they would have an arrow in their forehead. However, the length of time required to manufacture them was definitely disadvantageous, but it was currently being improved to be suitable for mass production. Plans to develop a more powerful variant of the crossbow were also underway, though it discards productivity for power. It would take more than a few years to complete, but that was what research was all about.

    ──The fact that places on the battlefield for sorcerers were gradually vanishing could be considered their achievement.  

    "Um, can I ask you something?"

    "What?"

    "Where's my armor? And my shield too?"

    Matari asked the hero with a troubled look on her face after hunting around the room for a while.

   Of course, the hero threw away the broken armor. It was so full of holes that it was beyond useless. She only grabbed the sword, leaving the shield behind as it was too heavy to carry.

    "You fell so fast that you broke it, so I got rid of it on the spot. And I think the shield flew somewhere far away. I tried looking for it, but I couldn't find anything."

    The hero lied with a straight face, and as expected, Matari stared at her with eyes of skepticism.

    "Is that true?"

    "It's true. Heroes don't lie about things they don't care about."

    The hero lied, which wasn't important.

    "...... Is that so? Well, it's going to be problematic to fight in the flesh without armor──"

    "Obviously. I've been waiting for you to feel better, so let's go buy some new gear later; I'll get some too."

    "Then let’s look for something on the cheap side. Armor can be quite expensive."

    "Ah, that's alright. I’ve got prize money from a bounty on trash named Salvadore or something like that. Ten gold pieces should be enough."

    "Salvadore? ...... Prize money?"

    "Salvadore, the head of a bounty. He's a demon I killed, and I got all this gold."

    The hero showed off a bag of gold coins with a look of pride on her face.

    "S-Salvadore, you mean the trapper Salvadore!? The infamous bounty head !"

    Matari suddenly shouted ridiculously loud, and the hero yelled back at her to shut up, throwing a pillow at her. Matari, who was hit in the face, sunk into the bed.

    "After you collapsed, a lot of things happened. And after a lot of things happened, I found Salvadore's head. Get it?"

    The hero, who had no intention of explaining, muddied the water. She couldn't say, *"I was so angry after you died I killed them all," and wasn't going to say that she was going to abandon her at first either. In truth, she wasn't sure she could explain everything clearly either.

    "Well, I don’t really get it at all."

    "Well, just get dressed. You’ll shop today, have dinner, and go to bed quickly. You'll be fully recovered in three days."

    The hero put her finger on Matari's forehead and moved it around.

    "No, I'm ready to go out today──"

    "There's no reason to push yourself, and there's no reason to be in a rush. The demons can't get past the barrier, and we have money. Do you understand?"

    "...... Y-Yes."

    Matari nodded reluctantly after the hero's rapid-fire responses. If this didn't work, she was going to pinch her cheeks.

    After getting dressed and ready, the two headed out into the city. The hero had a buoyant expression across her face - she liked to go shopping.

    "Isn't this good? I think it looks good, and it's nice and sturdy. It'll look good on you."

    "No, it's five gold coins! We can't afford that much! It would be a waste to give this to me!"

    The hero pointed to a magic resistant armor, which was the headline product in this armor shop. The armor was made of well-hardened black steel and was infused with magic essence. It was of a completely different quality from the old armor Matari had been wearing. It was strong against impacts and durable; furthermore, the effect of the kneaded magic essence would reduce the effects of magic attacks. It was armor that only a veteran would wear and was far beyond the reach of a novice like Matari.

    "What's the point of having money if you don't spend it when you have it? It doesn't matter how expensive or cheap it is, just get whatever you like. Yeah, I like this one."

    The most important detail here was that it wasn't Matari who was interested in this armor but the hero.

    "...... I'd be lying if I said I didn't want it, but it's still too expensive!"

    Hearing the girl's clamor, the owner of the armory appeared; frowning, a doubtful look was cast upon his face.

    "It sounds like you're having a great conversation, but that isn't something you can afford. Just stick to leather and iron armor. They're cheap and have some basic magic resistance."

    "I'm convinced this'll look good on Matari. So, I'll take this one. Here, the money."

    The hero slammed five cold coins atop the desk with gusto, and the shopkeeper's eyes widened, carefully examining them one by one.

    "...... Hey, hey, where the hell did you get this much money? You didn't steal it did you? I don't want any trouble."

    "I got it when I killed the head of a bounty."

    "The head of a bounty? ...... You mean Salvadore! Did you really kill that son of a bitch!?"

    The shopkeeper slapped his hands onto the desk with a shout. He was angry as he had lost one of his best clients to Salvadore's traps. Immediately after the news of his defeat reached him, the shopkeeper was planning to celebrate as soon as he finished his work.

    "...... You took down Salvadore?"

    "No, not me. I don't know anything, and I didn't do anything!"

    Matari quickly denied it, shaking her head back and forth in an exaggerated manner.

    "Then it was you."

    The shopkeeper, dumbfounded, froze in place. Talk of the town was that a young girl from the Warriors Guild had taken him down. But it was hard to believe that a girl like her managed to kill Salvadore. While eyeing the hero with a leery stare , their eyes met; and with a twisted smile, his doubts disappeared. He was convinced she was the one, as a supplier of weapons meant to take lives, he could understand that much. It takes a madman to kill a madman, and a monster to kill a monster. That's what he thought.

    "You got it? Then try it on now, Matari. Pops, help her out. I'll start looking for myself."

    "I'd be happy to sell to you if you know what you want. Hey, someone get in here!"

    "No, this is crazy! Please don't push me! Someone, listen to me!──"

    "Noisy! Get going!"

    The hero pushed away Matari, who was trying to argue, and the shopkeeper who read the room called in a female clerk. Matari was then forcibly taken away by a fat female clerk who appeared from the back, and the hero nodded with satisfaction.

    "...... Do you need anything? If you want something, I can be of service."

    The shopkeeper, somewhat frightened, went over to the hero to serve.

    "Thank's a lot. Then pops, I need some armor too, something light and strong. If you can, make sure it looks cool."

    It would be better if it looked good, but the most important thing is whether you liked it or not. Heroes value their intuition.

    "Well, there is one. But it's an old one, and magic essence isn't kneaded into it, so I can't recommend it."

    "Let me see it first."

    "Um, one moment please."

    When the hero took interest, the shopkeeper headed to the back of the shop and brought out a large box with a piece of cloth draped over it. Brushing off the dust, the shopkeeper carefully opened the box.

    "A stubborn blacksmith had made this on their own. He always ignored my advice, insisting that no magic essence be kneaded into the armor. He really was a stubborn bastard."

    Opening the chest, a silvery-white light set of armor was brought to light. Despite its age, it was clear its brilliance had yet to fade. With only a glance, one could tell it was a treasure. It seemed extra attention was put into the details of the armor’s decorative designs, and it was masterfully crafted.

    "It looks cool, and it's lightweight. How come nobody's bought it yet?"

    "Even if it's light and sturdy, it doesn't have any resistance to magic. As most armor nowadays is partially injected with magic essence, it truly is a gem. But that's why it's gone unsold for so long. It's unfortunate that it was born too late."

    The shopkeeper stroked the armor tenderly.

    "I don't need the magic resistance. If I get hit, I'll put up with it, and if I just avoid getting hit there won't be any problems. Alright, I've decided on this!"

    With a big smile on her face, she pointed at the armor as if she were a girl buying her favorite dress.

    "One gold coin is enough. It's better to let someone strong who claimed the head of the bounty wear it than to let it sleep and collect dust in this shop."

    The price had initially been three gold coins, but the shopkeeper decided to settle for one since he couldn't sell it otherwise.

    "Yes! Hey, is it alright to try it on here?"

    Giving the gold coin to the shopkeeper, the hero asked as if she couldn't wait, and the shopkeeper grinned in spite of himself.

    "I don't mind. I'll be in the back, so call me if other customers come in."

    After the shopkeeper retreated to the back of the store, the hero took off her clothes and put on her armor. There seemed to be no problems with the fit, and for its size, she wasn't expecting it to be as lightweight as it was. Grabbing a nearby sword she cut through the air a few times. The armor didn't feel particularly obtrusive either, so the hero nodded several times. It was not only light but comfortable, and it felt really good. The hero's mood rose as she thought she had made a very good purchase. Matari made her return with the big middle-aged woman the magic resistant armor made of black steel suited Matari's physique. The appearance of a heavy warrior created a weird feeling of intimidation. However, along with it, she was wearing an indescribably dumb expression on her face.

    "It looks good on you. I have an eye for this kind of stuff."

    "I'm glad you like it, but isn't it too expensive? I'd rather have more affordable iron armor──"

    "I already paid for it, so no point in complaining. Anyway, what do you think of this? Does it look good?"

    When the hero happily showed off her armor, Matari had a slightly lost look on her face and clapped her hands, expressing her impressions.

    "Yes! This silver armor looks great on you. It makes you look like a real hero! I'm amazed!"

    The hero's smile instantly faded, and her mouth distorted at the unnecessary comment. Her good mood, which had been on the rise, quickly plummeted.

    "..... I am a real hero."

    "Yeah, that's right!  I'm Sorry, I made a mistake."

    "Right, Matari made a mistake."

    "Y-Yes, I made a mistake."

    "That's enough. Go get yourself a shield. Here's some money. I'll go find some cheap disposable sword."

    The hero let out a sigh and handed the bag of money to Matari, and began to wander about looking for a sword, with a somewhat melancholic look on her face. Seeing her, Matari decided to choose her words more carefully next time.

-

    After finishing their shopping, the hero and Matari made their way back to the Paradise Pavilion. In both of their hands they held several leather bags full of various things. Since the hero had bought everything she liked, they were left with a tremendous amount to carry back. She bought things ranging from daily necessities, clothing, food, and so on, even abrasives and stones for cleaning swords. The hero also bought figurines and dolls, though Matari couldn't comprehend why, and when she asked the hero what they were for, she just replied that she bought them because she liked them.

    "Hey, hero. We bought too much, haven't we?"

    "I like to buy stuff. I like the moment when I give money and receive things. But I don't really get why."

    "Shopping is fun, isn't it? But you definitely bought too much, don't you think?"

    "We've got plenty of money. We still have one gold coin left."

    "You're wrong! How could ten gold coins turn into one in a single day!"

    "That's because you bought a sword and shield with your armor. Although they look shiny and clean at first, they'll get dirty fast."

    A basic iron sword was strapped to the hero's waist. It was a cheap bonus with her armor.

    "I'm sorry you bought me something so expensive....... I have to take good care of it, so it doesn't get scratched."

    "What the hell are you talking about? It's meant to protect you, so wear it and use it up. Besides, pops at the armor shop said if it gets damaged, he could fix it up a little."

    "Yes, you're right. Even if it's expensive, it's worthless if you don't use it."

    "That's the way──"

    Just as the hero was about to continue speaking, a passing boy bumped into her. With a quick bow in apology, the boy turned to quickly walk away in the opposite direction. The hero reflexively took something from her bag and threw it as hard as she could at the moving boy. The object hit the target in the back, and the boy lost his composure and fell wildly.

    "That hurt ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow!!"

    The boy rolled around on the floor, screaming, his body already covered in mud. The hero walked up to the boy and snatched a bag from his pocket. It was the bag she was holding earlier that had their money. As soon as they crossed, he stole the sack from the hero. He seemed familiar with the technique and was quite good. An ordinary person wouldn't have noticed anything was stolen.

    "You're ten thousand years too early to be trying to steal money from me."

    "Damn it! You noticed me too fast, even though you look like an idiot! Ugh, unlucky!"

    "You're the idiot. It sounds like you want me to throw this crow at you again."

    The hero pressed the object she threw earlier against the boy's cheek. It was a white crow figurine. It really was just an ordinary carved wooden figure; nothing was unusual about it, except for its oddly ugly face. It was made by the owner of a general store and hadn't been sold for several years. The hero was strangely drawn to its ugliness and bought it on the spot leaving Matari dumbfounded.

    "Stop! Please stop! Its sharp beak hurts!"

    "Now, what should we do in this situation?"

    With a wry smile, the hero asked Matari. While there were ways to hurt him thoroughly enough to where he would never act out again, the hero thought that it was a little much for a kid. Though if he were an adult, she would have beaten him half to death.

    "Well, if you hand him over to the church guards, he would be punished accordingly. Theft is a serious crime, so maybe a hundred lashes with a whip."

    " Oh, please forgive me. Those people won't hold back. They'll actually kill me!"

    The church doesn't increase or decrease the severity of their punishments due to age; regardless of whether they're a boy or girl, theft is punished with flogging, and murder is essentially a capital offense. Whether there was room for extenuating circumstances depended on the depth of one's faith.

    "It can't be helped. I'll let you off the hook this time. Give thanks to the kind-hearted hero."

    "Really!?" 

    The boy smiled involuntarily.

    "──I lied. There's no story with that sweet an ending. You can't be that naive."

    The hero built up the boy's hopes and then immediately betrayed them, with a big smile on her face.

    "......Hero, he's just a kid. So you should forgive him this time──"

    Matari tried to pacify her, but the hero took no notice.

    "I don't care if he's a kid. A crime is a crime, and you're gonna pay for it."

    "Th-Thats Terrible! You fiend! Great Demon King!"

    "You're the one who tried to steal someone's belongings. And I'm a hero, not a fiend or Demon King. Well then, please take care of this."

    The hero carelessly threw the bags in her hands to the boy, grabbed Matari's bags, and did the same.

    "Hey, what are you doing?! It's too heavy!"

    "Carry our stuff to the Paradise Pavilion, and then we'll forgive you. We'll be comfortable, and you won't be handed over to the church. It's all good."

    Smiling, the hero lightly poked the boy's forehead with the ugly white crow.

-

    And when they arrived at the Paradise Pavilion, she let the boy go as she promised. The hero wasn't so devilish as to trick him into carrying their stuff and then hand him over to the church.

    "See you later, sisters. I live in a slum, so if you're ever in the neighborhood, call me! And if you give me some money, I'll show you around! Some interesting people have been showing up lately!"

    "Yeah, yeah."

    "And thanks for the buns! I'll eat them together with everyone! See you later!"

    The boy waved his hand and ran away, with a bag full of meat buns in hand.

    "...... He was a really lively child. I hope he doesn't try doing that again."

    "Well, that’s probably not possible." 

     The hero replied swiftly.

    There was no way he could stop, because he wanted to survive. The boy who called himself Colon told them about his situation while carrying their stuff. Maybe he just wanted somebody to listen to him. It was a common story in this city of Arte, children abandoned by their parents, powerless, they have no choice but to do what they can to survive, criminal acts that even weak children can do. 

    ──Theft. If they got caught, the worst that would happen was that they would be whipped a hundred times; but if they didn’t do anything, they would starve to death. So the children choose to become pickpockets, and if they could grow up enough to challenge the labyrinth on their own, then they could feed themselves with their own hands. Colon, who was taking good care of the other children, went around earning money for them. It seemed like his speed was a natural gift, and thanks to it, he hasn't been caught before.

    "Thinking about it in the long term, would it have been better to hand him over to the guards?"

    "I don't know. I'm not a god. Though, I don't think either were right."

    The hero chose to let it go, as the kid was no demon — the hero judged by smell. A human who's fallen off the path of humanity smelled insufferable. Colon was undoubtedly human, so she let him go and gave him food. And when the food disappeared, he would pick pockets again to stay alive. Would he live his life until its end, or would he be justly rewarded? The hero had no way to know.

    ". . . . . . . . . ."

    "Anyway, let's head inside. We need to sort through our stuff, and I'm hungry."

    "Yes!"

        Picking their stuff up off the ground, the two entered the Paradise Pavilion.

◆    Quick note, when Hero refers to humans as demons, she specifically uses the term (外道/ Gedō ,) literally meaning: Outer Path. The word is used to reference those who've either acted outside of Buddhist teachings, or those with doctrines that tread the outer path; thus, making them heretics. Given the context Hero uses it in I decided to go with 'demon' as opposed to 'heretic' as a sort of catch-all term. I also believe it's a bit more consistent with her definition of demons in the first chapter, as well as her character in general. And, given the religious implications the word heretic usually carries; I've decided to use a more literal translation for it when used by characters outside of the Star Church.