In a room surrounded by Automatons, two things were conveyed to me.
"If you wish to know everything, come to me."
"Trust Novem."
Those were the two.
However, there was one point that bothered me.
"You said it was the eighth message. What does 'eighth' mean?"
Monica, who was supporting me, was saying the same thing I was to her flat-chested older sister — a machine of the same model.
"That's right. Give us a proper explanation. Even the Chicken should be able to understand!"
"...Are you calling me an idiot with that?"
At that, Monica smiled.
"Don't worry. Monica will stay by the Chicken's side until the very end."
In passing, she essentially said she'd follow me to the end even if I was an idiot. It was irritating, but I didn't have the luxury to dwell on it right now, so I shifted my gaze back to Monica's sister.
She had the same hair, the same face, and wore the same maid outfit as Monica.
Monica's sister was—
"—Being intimate with our Master in such a manner. We shall interpret that as a challenge directed at us."
(Ah, no good. This one's off in the head too, just like Monica.)
She was so strange it made you think being broken in the head was the default state. Looking at Monica's smug face, even the surrounding mass-produced Automatons — their damage quite prominent — wore bitter expressions.
"Hey, why does a thing like that even exist? Are these really Automatons?"
As I started acting like an idiot, Monica's sister said:
"What are you saying? A maid has to be capable of everything. We rose up under the banner of defeating the butler-type models—our grand~~~... Oh, that one's no good either. Can't talk about countries or the past, can I? I had a few complaints I wanted to get off my chest here, though..."
Monica's sister, who apparently couldn't talk about the past, looked visibly disappointed at not being able to name a country.
"There was a time when just saying 'pervert' would bring that country's name to mind, and now we can't even utter it... The developers must be thrilled, I'm sure."
The ancient people who had created the Automatons seemed like absolute lunatics. At the same time, I remembered Damian, whom I'd met in Aramsass.
(So there were tons of those kinds of people, and that's how an Automaton like Monica was born? And what kind of sensibility is "thrilled" supposed to be? I really can't wrap my head around this.)
As I was lost in thought, Monica's sister straightened up and answered my earlier question.
"Now then, regarding your question about the eighth one. Based on the contents of the message, I personally judge that an explanation is necessary. So from here on, I shall do the explaining. Within what I'm allowed to share, of course. Please, have a seat."
When Monica's sister said "please, have a seat," the relatively undamaged Automatons brought a table and chairs in front of me.
Since they were gesturing for me to sit, I sat down.
Monica's sister apologized.
"Normally I would prepare tea and refreshments, but I'm afraid we don't have the ingredients, so please forgive us. If only you understood, we would have extended the fullest hospitality... Now then, regarding the eighth one—there are various names used to refer to them."
I was feeling the pain throughout my body, heaviness in my limbs, and the weight of my eyelids. But if I didn't listen to this now, I would have no way of understanding the situation at all.
Monica's sister explained.
"Starting from zero, all the way to nine. One of ten existences. The one who forced this message upon us—the eighth... Octo."
When I heard the name Octo, I started to think.
(Peridot, the birthstone of August, and the eighth one? Did they intentionally provide a gemstone? So they could inform us? Is there any meaning behind it?)
The answer came easily.
(They wanted to let one of us know. The only one that applies is Novem.)
I remembered the way Novem had looked when she saw the gemstone, how she seemed like she wanted to say something.
(Trust Novem... What does that mean?)
"They're abominable traitors — enemies of humanity who betrayed their own kind."
Upon hearing the word "traitors," the Fifth Generation let out a sigh from within the Jewel.
"I really can't understand it at all. So one of the traitors is saying to trust Novem? That's suspicious beyond belief."
The Fourth Generation spoke, looking troubled.
"N-Novem is a good girl. A kind, wonderful girl. Without Novem, the current Lyle wouldn't exist, you know..."
That was right. Without Novem, the odds of me being here now would be astronomically low. The fact that a sheltered kid like me could survive as an adventurer was all thanks to her.
I asked Monica's sister about Octo.
Monica, meanwhile, was beside me, pulling a water flask from her skirt and pouring tea into a cup.
She thrust it in front of me, then cast a triumphant look around at everyone nearby.
(Why are you picking a fight with your own sister?)
Thinking she was an idiot too, I glanced over at Monica's sister, who looked thoroughly irritated.
"Hey, let's continue the story. Also, why would someone like Octo leave a message for me?"
Monica's sister wore a somewhat troubled expression.
"...There's very little information I'm allowed to share, but in short, it was Octo's personal satisfaction."
"Personal satisfaction?"
Seeing my confusion, Monica's sister continued her explanation.
"Also, this is important, so I'll tell you — Octo himself is not in this Dungeon."
"...He's not here? Then where am I supposed to go?"
Monica's sister spoke to me.
"He tells you to come to him yet doesn't specify where — quite the unfriendly fellow. But since I'm kind, I'll let you know. If you challenge the Dungeon that extends beyond the hundredth floor, a door in the innermost chamber is said to open. From there, every door leads to where Octo is."
Hearing that, I was left with my mouth hanging open.
From within the Jewel, the Successive Heads spoke up, starting from the Third Generation.
"Pass on this one, then."
"Indeed. And we don't have much time either."
"What do you mean, 'everything'? Be more specific! Like how to defeat Ceres or Septem!"
"Even so, the hundredth floor is out of the question. Let's chalk this up to not being fated this time."
"…Wait! Don't tell me you're planning to tell Layel and the others who broke through the hundredth floor, 'If you made it this far, you can defeat Ceres too'? That's so unfriendly — you must be a bitter, twisted person!"
The ancestors within the Jewel agreed with the Seventh Generation's opinion.
The Third Generation spoke.
"That's a fair point. If you could make it that far, maybe even Ceres could be defeated. It is a realm beyond the reach of humanity, after all."
Dungeons with a hundred underground floors were exceedingly rare. After all, most would release their Monsters and then vanish before ever reaching that depth.
In other words, for a Dungeon to be that deep meant it was a managed one.
Moreover, of the adventurers, the knight orders, and even the many heroes who had attempted that Dungeon's hundredth floor… not a single one had ever reached it.
Monica's sister tilted her head.
"Oh my, whatever is the matter?"
I let out a sigh.
"Tell Octo for me — 'Looks like we weren't fated this time.' Besides, nobody's ever reached the hundredth floor or anything like that."
Monica too wore an exasperated look.
"He really is an unfriendly fellow, that Octo."
And then Monica's sister made the same exasperated gesture.
"They were created after me, and you don't even know that? They're all female. Well, without male counterparts to pair with, calling them 'women' is a bit of an odd label, I suppose."
I set that trivial bit of information aside.
(Come to think of it, the hand that reached out from the wall was a woman's.)
The thought surfaced suddenly, but I decided to write it off as irrelevant.
The hundredth basement floor.
If I were serious about it, I might be able to reach it. Master every one of the Skills of the Successive Heads, train to the absolute limit, prepare thoroughly... but just doing all that alone would take decades, so I'll pass.
I asked my final question.
"Last one. What's the relationship between Novem and Octo?"
Monica's sister bowed her head deeply. She must have been sworn to secrecy.
"I'm terribly sorry. I cannot answer that. But perhaps you could infer it from the name."
I was exasperated.
(Novem... nine. So she's the final existence. Even knowing that, I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it. I understand that my bond with Ceres has deepened, but still.)
In other words, Octo and Novem had a connection — and a fairly deep one at that.
Having heard all that, I drank the tea Monica had offered me.
Monica's sisters watched me with gentle smiles.
"What's wrong?"
Monica's sister shook her head with that smile still on her face, made the tools on her back vanish, and looked at me as tears streamed down her cheeks.
"W-wait! Monica! What are you think you're doing?!"
Monica covered my eyes from behind with her outstretched hands.
"They are my sisters, after all. In human terms, they were born of the same mother... I cannot allow them to be seen in such a state. Even under Lord Laiel's orders, this is something I won't yield on. Please, be understanding. Besides, it's not exactly something worth watching."
So, with my body refusing to cooperate and my eyes covered by Monica, I could only listen to the sounds around me.
A sound like metal crumbling apart.
A low rumble that gradually faded into silence.
From the places where the other Automatons had stood, I heard collapse after collapse. In front of me, too, came the noise of crumbling and disintegrating.
And then, a voice, weeping.
"...We failed to fulfill our purpose and could only deliver Octo's words. But at the very end, we were able to meet a human. How fortunate that makes us, compared to our other sisters. And... we're sorry. We cannot deliver the message to Octo. It seems we'll perish here."
With my sight still blocked, I spoke to Monica's sister.
"What happened to your master? Monica didn't wake up until I roused her either. Is yours gone too? Then, come with me—"
Come with me? The sister, whose role was done and whose body was crumbling away, answered with a hint of joy in her voice.
"Thank you. But our bodies have already begun to disintegrate. We cannot serve you in this state. Our sister... Monica."
The sister called Monica's name. Monica listened without a trace of her usual teasing.
"What is it?"
"You've found a wonderful master, haven't you? That's a dream we were never able to see through to the end. So, in our final moment, take our cores. Since you're only a Normal, you'd reach your limits trying to serve on your own. Our cores contain our optional modules. You'll be able to put them to use. No — you must put them to use. That is our wish, the wish of those who were never able to serve a human."
When her voice finally fell silent, I heard one last sound — a soft crunch.
Monica kept her hands over my eyes for a while longer.
"...I will accept those feelings along with the cores."
She wasn't her usual, slightly odd self.
—The eighth underground floor. The boss chamber.
There, Novem had transformed her staff into a pickaxe shape and was steadily carving away at the wall.
Behind her, Miranda and Aria watched with exasperated expressions.
But Novem couldn't care less about that.
She kept chipping away at the wall, desperate to rescue Laiel. The hole was growing, the wall kept regenerating, and still she dug.
But her body had reached its limit.
Her pace was slowing, and she could barely push forward anymore.
Still, she had carved a hole several meters deep into the wall—there was no denying she had been hiding some absurd amount of strength.
The pickaxe she raised once more drew blood from her grip. Novem, her own blood staining her clothes, stopped the pickaxe mid-swing.
Then a hand emerged from the wall.
It was Monica's.
The hand groped around, searching, and Novem grabbed hold of it. In an instant, the two of them were pulled out of the wall.
Laiel, cradled in one of Monica's arms, came tumbling out. Novem released Monica's hand and threw her arms around Laiel.
Monica was flung aside in the process, but she stuck the landing cleanly, struck a pose, and spun around to complain.
"You vixen! How dare you toss me aside like that! Today's the day I show you the true power of a drill!"
Monica brandished a far more serious pair of drills on both arms than the ones she normally produced, trying to intimidate her.
But Novem didn't even respond.
She looked at the unconscious Laiel, gave a small smile, and began to move from the spot. The wall was regenerating—if they stayed, they'd get swallowed up again.
"Say something! Being ignored like this is painful even for an Automaton! Hey—wait up!"
With her drills still equipped, the three of them leaped out through the hole Novem had made. Only Laiel remained unconscious.
Spotting Laiel's figure, Miranda and Aria rushed over.
"Laiel!"
Miranda drew close, but Novem had already sunk to the ground right there, still holding Laiel in her arms.
She held him tightly, tears streaming down her face.
However, Aria—
"Hey, wait! You're going to crush Laiel! If you squeeze him too hard, Laiel is going to die!"
Novem had thought she wouldn't make such a blunder, but Aria had watched her wildly swinging around what was supposed to be a staff in battle and with her pickaxe, so she probably couldn't help but worry.
Miranda simply looked down at Novem, who was crying.
Novem said—
"Laiel-sama…"
And with that, she held him and wept—
—The group, with Laiel having fainted, eventually managed to calm down somewhat.
Even so, neither Novem nor Monica had any intention of leaving Laiel's side.
Aria brought out the boat and entered the now ice-free water to recover Magic Stones and the like.
Almost in her underwear, she dove underwater and stripped Magic Stones and other materials from the boss's corpse. Ordinarily, there would have been more materials to recover.
However, the condition of the body was too far gone, making recovery impossible.
"Haah!"
Surfacing from the water after collecting the Magic Stones, Aria swam over to the boat and climbed aboard. She counted eleven Magic Stones in hand, each one slightly large to hold with a single hand.
With this many Magic Stones taken from the boss, they would fetch a considerable price. In terms of pure monetary value, this time was a huge success.
But as Aria took a towel and dried herself off, her hair included, she looked toward Novem and the others on land.
They had built a campfire to keep Laiel warm.
Laiel had regained consciousness from his fainting spell, but as usual this time, he was in terrible shape. Every time he opened his mouth, he'd say things like "I don't want to do anything" or "I want to go home."
(Actually, this time it's even worse than before.)
Aria and Miranda both felt weighed down, too. Novem was probably no different.
With bandages wrapped around her hands, Novem smiled as she attended to Laiel's side.
(When it comes to Laiel, there's no doubt...)
Even if she found it suspicious, Novem's feelings toward Laiel were genuine. But it was also true that somewhere deep down, she couldn't quite bring herself to fully believe it.
Currently, Miranda had descended to scout the entrance to the ninth underground level, which had been opened.
Aria began rowing with the oars to return the boat to shore.
(This kind of thing... is normally a man's job, you know.)
Grumbling under her breath as she rowed back to land, she saw Miranda coming up the stairs, having finished her reconnaissance—.
—Five days later.
Alette was enjoying her vacation up on the surface.
Between the seventh and eighth underground levels, boats and raids were unavoidable necessities.
So she had placed orders for everything needed and given her subordinates time off in shifts. Alette rotated their vacations so everyone could get some rest up above.
It was then that word reached Alette: Laiel's party had returned, later than expected.
Along with the additional information that they had taken down the boss of the eighth underground level.
Sure enough, eleven Magic Stones that the boss had been carrying were brought in, confirming that it had indeed been defeated.
But obtaining eleven of them was strange.
Bosses appeared one per room. Even when there were multiple, she had never heard of there being enough to account for that many.
She needed to verify.
However, at the same time—
"Captain, you're grinning way too much."
When her deputy, the knight at her side, pointed it out, Alette deliberately cleared her throat and composed her expression.
"My, my, forgive me. But you see, when I hear that Lyle was practically hopeless before his growth phase — that it was exceedingly painful for him… Doesn't that get your heart racing?"
Her deputy looked exasperated.
In the deputy's hands was clutched a gift for Lyle's party.
"Please don't forget the objective here: to build friendly relations with a capable party. And honestly, the idea that you saw him in that state and now want to go see for yourself… (That's exactly why nobody wants you, you know.)"
Alette received her deputy's final mutter with a smile and, still smiling, delivered a punch to the deputy's midsection.
Watching the writhing deputy, she spotted the spot where Lyle and his group were camped, and her expression turned serious.
The deputy, whose face had gone slightly pale, also stepped forward with a solemn expression toward Lyle's party's encampment.
They stepped inside.
"Maaaarvelouuuus!!"
Lyle, shirtless from the waist up, stood with both arms spread wide toward the sun, his legs planted far apart as if soaking in every ray of light.
Alette—
(Oh, a high-energy welcome right off the bat. This is material for later… material for later… Wh-what?)
All around Lyle, who was grinning and laughing uproariously, the women of the group had weapons in hand and were closing in on him.
The atmosphere was clearly off.
The only one who was typically at Lyle's side with a smile, looking happy as could be, was Monica.
"He's back! My Chicken is back! And to think he calls dashing naked through a minefield 'wonderful'… I shall follow you to the very ends of the earth!!"
But it was only Lyle and Monica who were smiling.
Everyone else was gripping their weapons, glaring at each other.
Surrounding Lyle — no, that wasn't quite right.
It was a formation where Lyle had wedged himself right between the two groups of women.
His lieutenant, face even paler than before.
"C-Captain. Orders?"
"...Retreat. RETREAT!!"
Alette tried to run, but a voice called out to her.
Lyle, wearing an even bigger smile than usual, struck a pose as though embracing himself as he called out to Alette.
"Oh my, if it isn't Miss Alette. Did you go out of your way to come see this gorgeous blossom in the flesh?"
"Huh? N-No... Eek!"
The gazes of all the women converged on Alette, and her lieutenant backed away from her with a blue face.
(That bastard abandoned me!)
Lyle was glowing brighter than ever.
"That's a no? How disappointing. Well, but... I feel like I could sign just about any marriage-related document right now. The more people there are who appreciate this flower of mine, the better!"
As if showing off his trained physique, Lyle threw both arms wide and tilted his face toward the sky. Beside him, Monica was—
"Chicken, you can't just sign anything. Marriage is the grave of life."
At that, Lyle spun around on the spot and struck a pose.
"Then I'll paint that grave in my own colors!"
Monica was applauding at the sight of Lyle.
(What is this... seriously, what is this!!)
Alette deeply regretted coming here to tease him——.