This was a creature unknown even to Gaark, a Hunter who had continued hunting until he was rated as Level 7.
With a sweep of Ice Storm Fang that seemed to shake off the lingering numbness from his arm, he pointed its tip at the Slime-like.
The Slime-like swayed its two thick, tentacle-like arms, observing Gaark.
Its round golden eyes stood in stark contrast to its form. Those eyeballs, within its translucent body, looked deeply ominous.
He had slain many Monsters. Magical beasts. Golems. Phantoms modeled after ancient knights. Dragons, famed as the most powerful class of Monster. And even nauseatingly grotesque Undead.
But the creature before him was different from all of those. If Gaark were asked to describe the creature before him in words, he could only describe it as something slime-like, he supposed.
Of course, he was certain it was *not* a slime.
"What the hell are you...? Which 'era' did they pull you from?"
The researcher he was shielding stumbled backward, desperately scrambling toward Sven.
He didn't expect words to work on the Slime-like. It was just a stalling tactic.
While Sven and the other Hunters took it on, Gaark had been observing that Phantom the entire time.
A magic barrier so powerful it distorted space. It was a kind of force field. It repelled even Sven's signature arrow and blocked magical attacks.
That force field could destroy Hunter equipment with a mere touch. It was particularly ill-suited for close-combat specialists—the majority of Hunters.
The magic barrier was simple, and therefore robust. Overcoming it with brute strength alone was extremely difficult.
Gaark took a short breath, focused his mind, and glanced at his own weapon.
Gaark's halberd was a Treasure Weapon. An imitation of the advanced civilization that once existed. Its durability surpassed any existing metal.
The weapon that had torn through countless battlefields without a single scratch remained unmarred even when subjected to the Slime-like's force field.
If Gaark had retained his peak strength, perhaps he could have pierced the barrier and destroyed the Slime-like.
But Gaark now had a critical gap. While physical decline could be mitigated through training, the loss of absorbed Mana Materials could not.
He could compensate to some extent with past experience, but even that had its limits.
For an ordinary Hunter, perhaps, but Gaark was not so senile as to believe he could break through a barrier that Sven's arrow couldn't penetrate.
He channeled magic into the comrade held in his hand.
A sensation from long ago. A sudden, inexplicable wave of exhaustion washed over him, causing Gaark to frown.
His total magic capacity had decreased due to the loss of Mana Materials.
Even so, the Treasure Weapon responded to its bearer's call.
The massive blade of the halberd was wreathed in cold air, glowing a dull blue.
"This isn't just some 'Phantom'... Did it come from outside? What's going on? What did Klye see—?"
The first time Gaark met Klye was five years ago.
They were an unremarkable Party. No, at least their leader had seemed unremarkable.
But that judgment was quickly overturned by results.
Mourning Specter was always bathed in blood.
Among Parties with ornate names, that strangely named Party was always found on cruel battlefields they shouldn't have encountered.
Klye's essence lay in his exceptional foresight. The most vital strength a leader could possess.
And that strength was honed as the Party members grew.
Even Gaark, who had known them a long time, didn't know how Thousand Transformations read the future.
It wasn't magic. Probably not the power of a Treasure Weapon either. Of course, it couldn't possibly be coincidence.
The only remaining answer was simple.
Klye Andrich was nothing special. Like any ordinary Hunter gathering information and preparing meticulously, he was predicting the future from a grain-like clue.
In this case, Klye had come here in response to the emergency request Gaark had proposed, and noticed 'something'.
To counter that something, he had sent Black Gold Cross ahead as advance scouts.
What mustn't be forgotten here was that when Gaark went to consult him, Klye had said he was 'busy with another matter'.
The Slime-like before him was a formidable enemy.
Due to the nature of the magic barrier, even Lilliz, who specialized in speed, was at a disadvantage. However, Thousand Transformations, who possessed countless tactics to prevent opponents from predicting their approach, could handle it any number of ways.
But that card was not played.
This meant the matter wouldn't end with words like 'a powerful Phantom happened to manifest by chance'.
Klye was likely fighting an enemy right now that couldn't even be compared to this Slime-like.
He had apparently said something about relying on Lilliz, so maybe that was connected.
Regardless, Gaark and the others had to deal with this Slime-like now.
The Slime-like did not answer Gaark's words.
It raised its arm toward Gaark, who was glaring at it with a gaze reminiscent of his time as the War Demon.
"One-trick pony!"
He caught the arm, which bent like a whip, with Ice Storm Fang's blade. Not to strike, but simply to defend using the blade like a wall.
The molten arm struck the blade. The thick blade trembled as if roaring, and Gaark braced himself, gripping the shaft firmly to withstand the tremendous shock transmitted through it.
For the first time, the Slime-like retreated from Gaark, who stood his ground with his feet planted as if rooting himself to the earth.
Seeing this, the surrounding Hunters who had been watching the situation cried out in admiration.
Gaark lifted the corner of his thick lips, forming a beast-like grin.
As expected, the monster before him didn't seem to be a slime.
Originally, the Monster called slime was formless and free to change shape at will. But the monster before him didn't seem to possess that quality.
It wasn't very smart either. It was probably attacking purely on instinct.
Defeating it would be difficult, but at least for Gaark, defending was not impossible. If he switched with the shield-bearing Hunters to take aggro, he could buy time.
The only concern was that the Slime-like's movements were gradually getting faster.
Gaark was essentially a warrior. He wasn't very good at defense. If its speed kept increasing like this, eventually Gaark would be unable to keep up.
He might not be able to endure alone. But with support from those around him— He glanced behind him. The Mages were each gulping down blue potions, recovering their magic.
Those things taste really bitter...
Thinking that, he changed his position to stand between the Slime-like and the Hunters.
Having protected and distanced the two researchers, Sven shouted.
"Support the Branch Master!"
Arrows of Fire rained down on the monster before them. Gaark blocked the Slime-like as it charged through the storm of fire to deliver a body press from above, using Ice Storm Fang.
The shock from the force field tormented Gaark's arm like an electric shock. Even his crimson gauntlets couldn't prevent it.
But masking the pain, Gaark roared. Just that alone made power well up within him, just like when he was a Hunter.
Leaves rustled, trees shook. The cold air wreathing the blade spread to the Slime-like.
Seeing the War Demon reborn, the Hunters who were close to breaking under the desperate battle situation regained their spirit.
He could do it.
He had no idea how many hours he had to endure, but he would endure.
Just as that conviction solidified, a black arrow fired from the side pierced the torso of the Slime-like that was just about to charge.
The Slime-like was sent flying. It hit a tree, the impact of the force field snapping the tree and sending it crashing down.
A thunderous roar echoed. Sven, who had fired the arrow, stared wide-eyed.
The Slime-like slowly rose. The black arrow lodged in its torso was crushed and fell to the ground.
Where it was hit. The area around the hole was cracked. The hole closed almost instantly, and the Slime-like began moving again.
But there was no mistake—the attack had gotten through. This was different from before, when everything was deflected.
"?... Why did the attack get through? The magic barrier... has weakened?"
Sven fired another arrow. Flying with speed no less than before, the arrow hit the Slime-like's arm and was deflected just like the previous one.
Gaark blocked the charging Slime-like in the same way as before.
He braced himself to withstand the shock.
Then, Gaark realized.
—It was freezing.
The point where the Slime-like's blade made contact was thinly frosted over.
Ice Storm Fang was a halberd wreathed in cold air. In its prime, it could freeze the flesh and blood of Monsters, even creating ice sculptures.
Normally, it was a Treasure Weapon that froze targets from the wounds it inflicted, but even blocked by the barrier, the cold air reached.
Crack, crack—the surface of the Slime-like whitened. The distortion in the air caused by the emitted magic barrier weakened.
Ignoring the pain, face flushed red, he poured strength into the halberd.
Flesh creaked, bones ached. He gritted his teeth, enduring arms that felt like they would be torn apart. A fissure ran along the crimson body that had frozen white.
And then, the surface of the Slime-like shattered. Ice fragments danced down, glittering. As they settled on the ground, they vanished like an illusion, not returning to the main body.
The Slime-like let out a piercing roar.
It wasn't a scream. Neither fear nor pain could be felt from that strange voice.
But there was no doubt. This thing's weakness was—cold air.
If its surface froze, the barrier weakened. If its body was shattered, that part disappeared.
Ice magic was difficult. Because its pure destructive power was low, its learning priority was low, and few could use it. Especially high-level magic that generated cold air to attack rather than directly launching ice—there were even fewer practitioners.
Ice Storm Fang glowed dully. Gaark shouted.
"It's ice! We freeze it!"
"Damn it, the Branch Master with that—... You heard him! We turn this thing into an ice cube!"
Sven tore at his hair and spat the words out. The Hunters raised a roar of counterattack.
§ The old Mage wearing a deep green robe pressed his forehead at the unexpected sight obtained through false eyes and ears.
That was one of several backup research rooms prepared in advance.
The empty room was completely filled with equipment from White Wolf's Den's underground research lab, and several disciples were busily working to set up the laboratory.
Extremely rare space-expansion Treasure Weapons—shelves taken from the Space-Time Bag, which bent spacetime and boasted capacity beyond its appearance, desks, rare catalysts to construct formulas, and everything was being arranged in the same positions as they had been in White Wolf's Den's underground.
The disciples were all once mages who received the brand of being disqualified as mages.
Those captured for attempting forbidden magic due to overly strong curiosity. Those who caused large-scale attack magic to detonate, resulting in numerous deaths. Or those who had conducted horrific experiments using living humans.
They were people who possessed more than enough power as mages, yet were somehow lacking as human beings.
And for this man, Noto Coclea, once praised as one of the top mages in the Imperial Capital but exiled in his pursuit of forbidden knowledge, they were both comrades and convenient pawns.
"What... is this... saying..."
"What is the matter, Noto-sama..."
One of the disciples, a pale-faced man with gray hair wrapped in black robes, addressed Noto, who had his eyes closed in concentration.
Noto slowly opened his eyes and looked at the disciple with the sharp gaze of a raptor.
He had been tapping the desk surface with his wrinkled fingertips. That was Noto's habit when things weren't going as planned.
"It's no good... we're losing. Damn it, those Hunters... there were too many..."
The disciple opened his eyes in surprise at the bitter words.
Indeed, the disciple had witnessed the moment his master applied treatment to the Phantom, transforming it into a far more powerful 'Failed Creation'.
The Phantom's rising panic. Its writhing, agonized expression, its body constructed of dissolved Mana Material.
What resulted was a terrifyingly powerful monstrosity that defied the laws of this world. The memory of seeing that scene and feeling even deeper respect for his master was still fresh.
"...That's impossible... Was there a flaw in Sofia's potion?"
"...No. The effect was... certain. It could have certainly wiped out about twenty people... Damn it, what are those people..."
The potion that the eldest disciple had accidentally created had exceeded even Noto's expectations.
The injected, lowest-ranked Wolf Knight had its constituent Mana Material collapse, gaining power in exchange for its form.
Mana Material was also called magical source substance. It was, so to speak, the source of magical power.
The collapsed Mana Material converted into a vast amount of magical power, which surged forth to generate a powerful force field, an impenetrable shield that deflected all attacks.
This was power that high-level Phantoms or Monsters possessed, and incomparably greater than the power they had possessed when their bodies were stable.
Of course, it wasn't invincible.
The Phantom that had melted its body down and gone berserk wouldn't last long. Once the rampage occurred, it couldn't be reversed. The Mana Material that constituted its body would soon all revert to magical power, not even leaving dust behind.
But by the man's calculations, wiping out the investigating Hunters before that happened should have been easy.
The only thing unforeseen was—immediately after Noto left the scene, reinforcements had arrived.
And it was reinforcements several times the number originally conducting the investigation.
Even for that man, once called a Sage, that was completely unexpected.
And they weren't cannon fodder. Black Gold Cross Hunters from a Clan known even in the Imperial Capital, and Gaark Welter, once feared as the War Demon, now serving as the Explorer's Association Branch Master—wiping them out was quite difficult.
Moreover, at that time, those Hunters had been constantly wary of something, showing not a single shred of carelessness.
And truly unfortunately, the battle was progressing just as Noto had predicted.
When the arrow of the Black Gold Cross was deflected, a possibility of victory had flashed through his mind, but after his body was revealed to have shrunk over time, and now that a weakness even Noto hadn't anticipated, 'cold air', had been exposed, it was beyond help.
As expected, he shouldn't have done the extra thing, should he?
As Noto wore a bitter expression, the disciple clicked his tongue in irritation and rolled his eyes.
"That Sofia... absent at such a crucial time... always putting on airs..."
"Well... it's fine. It can't be helped. They've seen the experimental creation, but they probably won't be able to trace it this far."
The disciple's voice held an undeniable tinge of jealousy along with the anger.
Indeed, if Sofia, who had created that potion, were here, she might have come up with another move.
Sofia had a natural talent. All of Noto's disciples were exceptional in their own right, but she stood a head above the rest. Though she still lacked the courage to step into the abyss of magic, given time, she might possess the talent to surpass her master, Noto.
If, by bad luck, Sofia hadn't left the Imperial Capital, that Phantom might have had the potential for further enhancement.
But this incident was merely one test, not Noto's ultimate goal.
Even if things didn't go as planned, it wasn't fatal.
Mana Material rampage—inept Hunters uninterested in knowledge would never think of it, and even if they did, they wouldn't reach Noto.
The only one who could pose a problem was a single person.
A Level 8 who had appeared like a comet in the Imperial Capital and quickly made a name for himself as a master strategist.
A man feared by all criminal organizations, with bounties on his head.
The Arcane Society, to which that Mage belonged, which boasted immense power in the Imperial Capital and various other nations, had designated him a Person of Interest.
Even the hero known for his reckless bravery, even the hero who had slain a dragon, would tremble at his name, and those who foolishly challenged him were said to have been crushed before they could even lay eyes on him.
The Master of Beginning Footprint.
One of the reasons Noto had to retreat from White Wolf's Den, and likely the man who had sent numerous Hunters to White Wolf's Den.
The old Mage gripped his staff until his hands turned white.
"Thousand Transformations... just how far do you intend to interfere...!"
He hadn't returned to square one. The research results remained in Noto's hands, but there was no denying that his path to ambition had been greatly set back.
White Wolf's Den, where Phantoms possessed considerable strength, Treasure Weapons rarely appeared, and Hunters rarely visited, had met the conditions for Noto's cherished desire at a high level.
If only Thousand Transformations hadn't visited White Wolf's Den back then... it was now a meaningless hypothesis, but he couldn't help but think it.
To have even the test interfered with meant he could no longer leave it be.
Those who interfere must die. Twisting his lips, the Sage who had fallen into darkness formed a distorted smile.
Now, Noto had no power. At least, he didn't believe he could defeat a Hunter rated Level 8.
But when his cherished desire was fulfilled and he gained power, he would use every means at his disposal to ensure he snuffed out that life for good.
As Noto burned with dark resentment, a disciple who had been dispatched as a 'Familiar' to observe the outside situation suddenly ran over.
His eyes were abnormally wide, his cheeks were drawn, and the hands resting on the desk were trembling violently.
"...It's terrible, Noto-sama."
"What happened?"
Under the concentrated gaze, the disciple spoke in a trembling voice.
"...Thousand Transformations is... in the upper Treasure Hall..."
He didn't understand what he was saying.
In the upper Treasure Hall? Who?
"There's no way... that's possible!!"
"B-but, really—"
Impossible. Noto had only decided to move the research equipment to this location a few hours ago.
Noto himself had made the decision. There had been several candidate locations to move to, and he hadn't even reported this move to his patron yet.
Yet... they were above?
Impossible. Absolutely impossible.
Staring at the disciple's pale face, Noto desperately turned his mind.
Even if the location of the research lab had been leaked in advance, pinpointing this exact location was absolutely impossible. They hadn't chosen a place near White Wolf's Den either.
Moreover, it was too soon. Noto and the others hadn't even finished preparing to resume the experiment.
"The sun is already setting. Did they come at this time? Hunters' activity period should be during the day..."
"B-but..."
There was no lie visible in the disciple's expression. No, Noto's disciples weren't foolish enough to tell a lie that would be discovered so easily.
Then the possibility was... from the inside—a leak among the disciples?
He scrutinized each of the disciples' faces, unable to hide their agitation at the sudden situation.
These were all familiar mages who had been Noto's disciples for at least several years. Their backgrounds had been checked beforehand.
The most recent disciple was Sofia, but she was absent now and probably didn't even know the lab had moved or that an incident had occurred.
Impossible.
Besides, all the disciples had conducted numerous experiments with Noto that were never permitted under Imperial law. These included human experiments. He didn't think providing information would be sufficient to be pardoned. Noto and the disciples were in this together.
After a brief hesitation, Noto discarded his suspicion.
Thousand Transformations was said to possess fearsome insight. Now was not the time to be fighting amongst themselves.
He had heard they rarely appeared in public, but having shown themselves like this, their objective was clear.
With such terrifying insight to discern this location from among the many candidate research labs, he couldn't simply wait here, hidden away.
Surveying the lab they were in the middle of moving, he bit his lip.
Even retreating required time.
He had to buy time no matter what. He couldn't let his research equipment be seized right now.
If the reports were seen, Noto's existence would be exposed to the Empire. If it was discovered that Noto was still attempting to trespass into forbidden territory, the Empire would pursue him with relentless fervor.
There were collaborators in the upper echelons of the Empire, but they wouldn't protect him.
It couldn't be helped. The odds of winning against a Level 8 were infinitely low, but he had no choice but to activate the interception system.
He again lamented the misfortune that his most reliable eldest disciple wasn't here.
Sofia was a researcher, but she was strong. The one who could use the interception system most effectively, besides Noto himself, was Sofia, who had created it with him.
Recalling the scene from that time, where she had confidently declared she could even defeat Mourning Specter, he furrowed his brow.
To think that at the very moment of fighting Mourning Specter, its master herself was absent.
He looked around the room. Facing the loyal disciples who awaited his words with serious expressions, Noto declared.
"It's regrettable, but we must leave here. Some of you will sacrifice your lives to hold them off. Everything is... for our cherished desire."