Enduring the crushing weight that pressed down on his entire body, Ruda desperately scanned his surroundings.
He employed not just his hearing but all five senses. The City of Ten Thousand Demons was a Level 8 Treasure Hall. In general, a Treasure Hall's level corresponded proportionally to its accumulation of Mana Material — the higher the level, the greater both the quality and quantity of Phantoms dwelling within. At Level 8, it would not be surprising if several times the number of Phantoms found in the White Wolf's Den he'd recently explored resided here.
Yet strangely, Ruda's senses detected no trace of living presences.
At the head of their formation marched the highest-level members of the Thunder Dragon of the Mist. Among them were Thieves whose levels surpassed Ruda's own. The vice-captain, Ei Laria, was one such member.
But her expression, like Ruda's, was one of suspicion.
There were no traps and no enemies.
Castle-type Treasure Halls were rare and generally skewed toward high recommended levels, so Ruda had never explored one before. But from what he'd heard, highly coordinated Phantoms would appear in them.
Even setting that aside, the idea of a Treasure Hall where Phantoms failed to show up at all was hard to swallow.
He might have made the wrong judgment. From the moment he'd laid eyes on the Treasure Hall from afar, his instincts had been sounding a deafening alarm. He should have followed them — only now did he feel a sliver of regret.
He'd learned at the Galrest Mountains that the Thunder Dragon of the Mist had different objectives than his group. Even so, he'd followed Arnold because the commission he'd received remained unfulfilled, and because he couldn't bring himself to walk away from a potential clash.
What would happen if the Level 7 Mighty Thunder Flash collided with the Level 8 Thousand Transformations? Ruda couldn't even begin to predict. From what he'd seen, the former would dominate outright — but since Thousand Transformations was clearly capable of advanced mimicry, such speculation was meaningless.
No, let him be honest. Person to person was one thing, but Ruda believed that if the Thunder Dragon of the Mist and the Mourning Specter clashed head-on, the former would lose. He didn't know Klye's true strength, but the difference in their companions' caliber was plain to see. Every member of the Thunder Dragon of the Mist's party was far from weak — they boasted reliable, consistent power — yet even so, they fell far short of the shock he'd felt the first time he witnessed Peerless Shadow.
He didn't know much about Citry specifically, but as a member of the same party, she had to be on par. Arnold had clashed with Riizu by the lakeshore; had Citry or Klye intervened at that moment, Arnold would have been defeated.
Since the Thunder Dragon of the Mist was determined to fight, the collision was likely inevitable. He'd tried to talk them out of it several times, but Treasure Hunters placed great stock in pride. He understood why.
In short, the reason Ruda had tagged along was to intervene after the Thunder Dragon of the Mist was defeated.
The members of the Thunder Dragon of the Mist were rough and looked exactly like what ordinary citizens imagined when they heard the words "Treasure Hunter" — but they were by no means bad people. On the road, even when things had looked utterly hopeless, they'd never abandoned Ruda or the Blazing Tempest, and he'd been saved by them more than once. A debt had to be repaid.
Klye had Tino with him as well. Even if Ruda alone couldn't stop things, begging for mercy alongside Tino might at least spare their lives in the worst case.
That was what he'd been thinking. Looking back now, he had to admit it was naive.
Surely if Ruda begged for mercy, Klye would agree. And if Klye agreed, Peerless Shadow would not object either. But that arrangement hinged on one condition — that they could meet face to face.
Before they could meet face to face, they might die.
The difficulty of the Treasure Hall Klye Andrich had entered exceeded anything Ruda could have imagined.
He hadn't yet engaged Phantoms in combat, but he could tell without fighting. Compared to this place, the White Wolf's Den he'd explored before was practically heaven.
Behind Ruda, whose face had gone pale as he desperately concentrated his mind, followed the even paler members of the Blazing Tempest.
Ruda's group numbered fifteen — far more than the typical party assembled for a Treasure Hall exploration — but that provided no comfort whatsoever. Facing the monsters that made their home in this hellish place, Ruda and Gilbert and the rest would likely be utterly powerless.
Their only hope was the Thousand Transformations, who should have already entered the Treasure Hall. That man who wore an easy smile while keeping everything in the palm of his hand — surely he knew Ruda's group had arrived. No, having come this far, that was all they could hope for.
Ei had said they would just observe for a while. She had no intention of dying here.
The Mana Material saturating the area was denser than anything Ruda had ever witnessed. He could feel it accumulating in his body, gradually but certainly enhancing his physical capabilities.
A fine experience. If only he could laugh it off that easily.
There was no guarantee on a battlefield. An attack could slip past Ei and Ruda's perception, pierce through the Thunder Dragon of the Mist's vanguard formation, and snuff out a life before anyone noticed.
The interior of the City of Ten Thousand Demons was not what he'd imagined. It carried an air of austere grandeur.
The outer walls of fitted stone and the towering gate harmonized with their surroundings, showing no signs of deterioration — as though they had been constructed moments ago.
The doors, which had swung open as if expecting Arnold and his group, looked metallic but felt strangely textured to the touch. This was proof that the entire castle was composed of Mana Material. Even gates and doors that might shatter if he went all out would likely boast an硬度 unimaginable from appearance alone.
He cautiously checked the area around the gate, but the rooms where soldiers should have been stationed stood empty — not a soul in sight. Tables, chairs, and still-lit lamps remained behind, which made the scene all the more unsettling.
Ei peered through a window into one of the rooms and asked Gilbert, who served as their tactician.
"Hey, Gilbert. Do you know anything about this Treasure Hall?"
"I don't. I looked into it, but almost no information turned up. Too few Hunters have explored it."
A Treasure Hall with no prior intelligence was something Hunters avoided like the plague. That, too, was probably one reason this particular hall had remained unexplored for so long.
Beyond the gate, the ground was paved with smooth stones forming a clear path. Narrow paths branched off to the left and right, while a wider path stretched straight ahead.
Well-maintained trees lined the area at even intervals, looking slightly distorted beneath the thick clouds that blocked the light.
Arnold gripped his greatsword, maintaining a stance ready for instant combat, and spoke.
"...No signs of battle."
"It may have been overwritten, but—"
They had only just passed through the gate. The fact that they hadn't encountered a single enemy this far in was strange, but in all common sense, the real test would begin once they entered the castle buildings.
Arnold strode down the central path with his fierce expression unchanged, his massive frame exuding confidence. Looking up, they could see the jet-black castle wreathed in dark clouds, towering above them.
"......Klye's footprints... aren't here either."
"......"
He'd hinted that perhaps they weren't here at all, but no one responded.
He wanted to believe they hadn't entered the castle yet, but Thousand Transformations possessed a dangerous unpredictability — there was no telling what that man might pull. Setting aside the three including Klye, Ruda felt a twinge of concern for Tino, who had most likely been brought along by force. Tino was certainly strong, but she didn't seem the type to challenge a Level 8 Treasure Hall. Perhaps right now she was having a terrible time and crying her eyes out.
It was self-serving thinking, placing himself above her, but without such idle thoughts the tension might have crushed him.
There was absolutely no trace of life here. Until they fought at least once, the Thunder Dragon of the Mist would not choose to retreat.
If Phantoms were going to appear, he wanted them to show up as close to the exit as possible — ideally, before they even entered the castle. If the enemy came as a single unit, all the better. The best outcome would be for Klye to return before any battle began and for them to meet by chance — but for some reason, Ruda couldn't envision that future at all.
"Hey... are you guys alright?"
"Y-yeah... a bit rough, but nothing serious."
"Haven't even seen a Phantom yet."
At Ei's words, Carmine, leader of the Blazing Tempest, and Gilbert replied. But deep fatigue bled through their expressions.
Perhaps he was wearing the same look himself.
Ruda was Level 4 — a Hunter who'd earned his Level 4 certification solo. It was said that reaching a high level as a Solo was considerably harder than doing so within a Party.
Even as a relatively new Hunter, Ruda had his pride. If the Blazing Tempest wasn't showing weakness, he couldn't afford to either.
He would survive and make it home no matter what. When he thought about it calmly, this commission was just an errand. Dying in the middle of a simple errand was out of the question.
He steeled himself and drew a deep breath — just as Arnold, who had been leading the way, came to a sudden stop.
Without warning, something like static noise flooded his ears. Members of the Thunder Dragon of the Mist scattered and swiftly formed a battle formation.
About ten meters ahead along their path, darkness writhed.
The noise intensified. The thin darkness concentrated into a single point, gaining color and shape.
Carmine, positioned behind the Thunder Dragon of the Mist, saw it and widened his eyes, stumbling back several steps.
"A Phantom... materialization!? Impossible... they don't materialize right in front of people, do they?"
"Hih... the Mana Material is just too concentrated."
Ei forced a strained smile onto her face while cold sweat ran down her temples.
The exact mechanism remained unclear, but it was generally understood that Phantoms materialized when Mana Material accumulated beyond a certain threshold. When Hunters were present in a Treasure Hall, the Mana Material was absorbed by the Hunters instead, making materialization right before their eyes virtually impossible. While there were exceptions in recorded history, it was an exceedingly rare phenomenon unique to high-level Treasure Halls.
The Thunder Dragon of the Mist's Mage began chanting attack spells in rapid succession. Hearing this, the Blazing Tempest's Mage hurriedly followed suit. As allies assumed combat stances, Ruda recovered his composure.
He was startled, but on reflection, having Phantoms materialize right in front of them was actually fortunate. They could attack before the enemy settled into formation. It would be a one-sided battle — but perhaps they could defeat the enemy without ever allowing a counterattack.
The darkness coalesced, and what emerged were knights. Of a height comparable to Arnold's. Jet-black helms that completely concealed their heads, bodies sheathed in dark armor from head to toe.
Knights with jet-black swords at their hips.
There were — two of them.
Bad, Ruda thought. Of everyone here, only Arnold barely qualified for this level of Treasure Hall. For every other member — even those of the Thunder Dragon of the Mist — they were likely well below the recommended level.
He didn't yet know how powerful these Phantoms were, but encountering two on the first engagement was terrible luck.
Then again, he was also grateful it was only two. If Arnold took one and the rest of them — Ruda included — fought the other, the numbers would balance.
There was nothing else to do. He steeled his resolve. Fighting strong enemies, gambling with his life — none of this was new.
The instant the Phantoms solidified, Ei shouted.
"Strike!"
Two parties. Two Mages had chosen fire magic for their surprise assault.
Blades of blue flame, storms of compressed fire bullets, all descended upon the freshly materialized Black Knights.
The Black Knights made no evasive motion whatsoever and simply took the hits. Muffled impacts echoed in rapid succession, and the instantaneous flash of light blindingly filled their vision.
"Did we get them!?"
"No way in hell!"
Gilbert's voice rang out, and Ei shouted back.
Before they could confirm the results, Arnold was already moving.
For his enormous frame, wielding a colossal two-handed sword, his speed was staggering. Wreathed in violet lightning as he charged forward, he looked like a thunder god in battle.
The light cleared. With a roar, Arnold brought his greatsword crashing down. The Black Knight met it with a sword drawn from its hip.
A piercing ring echoed through the air. Before they could process the result, Ei — who had followed behind Arnold — had circled around to the other Black Knight's flank and kicked at the backs of its knees.
The knight had taken a direct hit from attack magic without showing the slightest sign of pain. Neither helm nor armor bore a single scratch — not even a smudge.
The attack magic had been powerful enough by any measure. If Ruda had taken a direct hit, it wouldn't have been fatal, but a serious wound would have been unavoidable.
To take such a blow without a scratch — what kind of hardness was that?
He'd known from the White Wolf's Den that Phantoms in armor were tough, but this was an entirely different class.
This was, for Ruda, the worst possible matchup.
"Stop dawdling!"
The Black Knight flipped its sword. The speed was beyond what Ruda's eyes could track.
Arnold caught the lightning-fast strike with a minimal tilt of his greatsword. The clash of steel blended together into what sounded like a single sustained note.
Arnold received the blow with flushed cheeks and a grim expression, while the Black Knight's expression was, of course, invisible.
But the real problem was Ei, who had engaged the other knight.
That fight was almost entirely one-sided. The Black Knight attacked and Ei dodged. The knight's full-body armor repelled Ei's strikes completely — even the nearly clean first hit to the leg, delivered from a near-ambush, had done absolutely no damage.
But that gambit had succeeded.
Ei had charged in after Arnold because even the formidable Arnold would be at a disadvantage fighting two opponents simultaneously.
One Black Knight devoted itself entirely to chasing Ei, and the other showed no inclination to join in.
The fact that Ei could barely dodge the sword flashes visible only as blurs was because the Black Knight's footwork wasn't that fast. Its sword speed was considerable, but having someone at your back meant you had to turn. If they retreated a step, you had to pursue. By constantly adjusting position and never clashing head-on — unlike Peerless Shadow's style — Ei was fighting the textbook way a Thief should.
In that opening, three swordsmen from the Thunder Dragon of the Mist moved to support Ei. Surrounded by three burly fighters, the Black Knight paused, as if reassessing the situation.
Gilbert and the other members of the Blazing Tempest couldn't keep up with any of those fluid movements.
"Damn it, you monster... this is supposed to be the weak one...?"
One of the surrounding swordsmen, breathing heavily, leveled his sword at the Black Knight. At those words, Ei let a deep smile spread across her face.
"Right? Truly impressive. But... we've got it right where we want it."
"UOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"
While Ei's group had momentarily locked down their target, the battle between Arnold and the other Black Knight had intensified to a fever pitch.
The one with the advantage was the Black Knight, with its blinding sword speed and armor that deflected all magic.
The greatsword was a weapon built around the weight of each individual blow. Once those blows were easily blocked, the wide, sweeping swings that a greatsword demanded put Arnold at an unavoidable disadvantage.
—Both Ruda and Gilbert had thought the same thing.
But the battle was unfolding in an unexpected direction.
With Ei receiving backup, the freed-up Mage aimed a short staff at Arnold and shouted.
"Arnold, here it comes! 'High Acceleration'!"
A beam of white light pierced through Arnold. It was a magic spell that enhanced physical abilities.
Body-enhancement magic was a double-edged sword. Especially boosts to strength and explosive speed — since they fundamentally altered the body's sensations, many Hunters avoided using them.
Ruda had once been caught off guard by one himself.
Right now, Arnold's body must have felt impossibly light. So light that he might not even be able to control his sword properly.
"......!"
But to Ruda's eyes, Arnold's movements hadn't changed at all. He was still catching those godspeed strikes with minimal motion.
For a split second, Ruda thought the spell might have fizzled — but he quickly realized his mistake.
Arnold was used to it. He was accustomed to the sudden shift in sensation.
Adapting to such an extraordinary change in perception required painstaking, grueling effort. He had likely trained through this countless times — receiving body-enhancement spell after spell, conditioning himself to respond at any moment.
Following that, spells for strength, endurance, and defense cascaded onto him in succession. The sight of Arnold continuing to parry swords while receiving enhancement magic one after another almost looked like he was suppressing towering fury.
As if realizing the situation had turned against them, the Black Knight held in check by Ei's group broke loose. A blow that barely considered defense — the same godspeed strike Arnold had faced — one of them failed to catch, and their formation crumbled.
Even so, the Mighty Thunder Flash held firm.
Gilbert started to rush forward, but Ei cut him off with a shout.
"Don't get in the way — stay back! Stay where you are in case something happens! We're still fine!"
Gilbert stopped, biting his lip in frustration and stamping the ground. Ruda understood the feeling. The helplessness of insufficient strength. Carmine and the others must have felt the same.
The Thunder Dragon of the Mist's movements were practiced, seamless. As Ei had said, if outsiders like Ruda's group jumped in, they would only create openings.
"Damn it... isn't there anything we can do — what's Arnold doing? He took all those enhancement spells but—"
"......? Wait a second, that's—"
Suddenly, the Black Knight trading blows with Arnold froze for a bare instant. Seizing the brief opening, Arnold drove his sword forward, and the Black Knight staggered back.
Fatigue? No — Phantoms, being non-human entities, were generally more durable than people.
Ruda thought it might be a momentary lapse, but it wasn't.
Starting from that single opening, the Black Knight's movements gradually grew sloppier. A momentary freeze, a shift in center of gravity, a knee that jerked as if spasming.
Without anyone noticing, the tide of battle had tilted toward Arnold.
The almost divine swordsmanship was dulling. Arnold's movements hadn't changed — he, as the one receiving the blows, was barely moving at all.
"That... the sword!"
Gilbert stared at Arnold's greatsword wreathed in violet lightning. At those words, Ruda understood everything.
Lightning. The lightning wrapping Arnold's blade was traveling through the opponent's sword, inflicting damage.
The enemy was clad in full armor. Even that formidable protection couldn't block electricity — a well-known advantage of lightning-based magic.
Arnold had been waiting, hadn't he? For the moment when the accumulated effect of the electric shocks would expose a fatal opening.
If someone called that cunning, they wouldn't be wrong. It was a method approaching trickery, completely at odds with Arnold's physique and his enormous blade.
Yet from that fighting style, Ruda sensed the tenacious resilience unique to Treasure Hunters.
This was — Level 7. The culmination of honed skill and hard-won experience.
And at last, the Black Knight's body swayed, and it dropped to one knee. In the vast opening that finally appeared, Arnold roared.
The air itself trembled. The overwhelming killing intent froze even the other Black Knight in place. Arnold raised his greatsword high, and it blazed with golden light.
The energy's aftershock numbed Ruda's body.
It was lightning. Not the natural kind — something reminiscent of a dragon's breath. Golden lightning.
"Mighty Thunder Flash."
The blow conjured images of a bolt from the heavens.
A golden line tore through the Black Knight as it desperately raised its sword.
The blade didn't merely pierce the black armor — it continued onward, cleaving through several meters of stone pavement and scattering energy in its wake.
The Black Knight burst apart. Whether it was alive or dead was no longer a question.
A devastating, majestic strike — a complete reversal from the delicate footwork of moments before.
Gilbert, eyes strained to their limit as he burned the scene into his memory, finally exhaled.
"Th-that's incredible...!"
"So this is — Level 7...!"
All he'd ever seen was Thousand Transformations humiliating this man, but that strike was nothing short of heroic.
Arnold's body, having brought the blade down, was still crackling with electricity, glowing gold.
He showed no sign of celebrating victory. His narrowed golden eyes turned toward their next prey.
Ei and the others gradually widened their encirclement. Then the lightning-wreathed hero launched himself at the remaining Black Knight.
The fight ended almost anticlimactically.
Arnold's strike carried speed and force incomparable to the blow before. The lightning-imbued slash cleaved the Black Knight in two — sword and all.
The fierce struggle from moments ago now felt like a dream.
Confirming that nothing remained moving, Arnold finally lowered his sword.
Ei checked on her flung companions and let out a sigh of relief.
"Our side's damage is negligible as well. ...You did it, Arnold. A Level 8 Treasure Hall — the enemy was formidable, but—"
"Yeah. But I doubt this is all there is."
The light wreathing his body faded. Arnold's expression held no trace of joy.
True — considering these had appeared in such a barren stretch, they probably weren't especially powerful specimens. Never letting his guard down was perhaps the mark of a veteran.
But still — he had defeated enemies in a Level 8 Treasure Hall that exceeded his own level. Couldn't he show just a little happiness?
It was then that Ruda felt something nagging at him.
"Hey, old man! That technique — how did you pull it off? Think I could learn it?"
"...Save your sleep-talking for when you're asleep."
Gilbert was asking in dead earnest despite his excitement, and Arnold looked at him with exasperation. Ei, meanwhile, was frowning down at the Phantom corpses scattered across the ground.
True — Arnold's guard was still up. But the uniquely loose tension that follows a hard-fought battle was in the air.
The thunderous strike Arnold had unleashed had shaken Ruda's brain with equal impact.
His eyes went wide. This was — déjà vu. Ruda had been in a situation just like this before.
Cutting through a desperate crisis, licking their wounds, catching their breath — Ruda looked at Gilbert, who had been there with him that time. The red-haired boy met his gaze with a blank expression, having not yet caught on.
"...Gilbert, do you... remember what happened at the White Wolf's Den?"
"Huh?? What are you suddenly—... huh... oh!?"
Gilbert's face drained of color in an instant. He'd reached the same realization. That was how deeply the memory had seared itself into him.
The forces, the circumstances, everything was different. But the situation itself was eerily, almost nauseatingly similar.
Right down to the fact that they'd ended up here by getting swept up in Klye Andrich's wake.
People called this — the Thousand Trials.
"Old man, this is bad! There's gonna be more! A second wave! Last time too — they came right after!"
"...Have you lost your mind?"
Gilbert blurted out to Arnold in a panic. He was probably just spouting off without thinking, but right now that urgency was welcome.
Ruda understood the feeling. A second wave — yes, that was it. It had happened before. After fighting and barely defeating a single powerful enemy, three more had appeared with completely different weapons and styles.
If Klye hadn't come to their rescue back then, Ruda and the others would have died right there. And this time, with Arnold — a Level 7 — present, there was no guarantee anyone would come to help.
He might have been imagining things. He might have been worrying too much. But he simply couldn't ignore it.
Ruda spoke up to Ei, who was bewildered by Gilbert's sudden outburst.
"Ei, Gilbert's right — I think we should move. Last time something like this happened — reinforcements arrived."
"Hmm. What do you think, Arnold?"
At Ei's words, Arnold looked at his companions and let out a low growl.
"...Retreat or advance, then..."
Ruda had misjudged Arnold. He was undeniably a Level 7 Hunter.
True, his pride was fierce and there were parts of him that were hopelessly inflexible — but when it mattered, he would not err in his judgment.
They had engaged the Phantoms and broken through, but the enemy's strength was now roughly gauged. They'd won today because the enemy numbers were small. Pressing forward would likely result in serious injuries for someone. And this man — far more sharp-minded than his appearance suggested — could not have failed to realize that.
Ruda stepped forward. He looked straight up at Arnold.
He had no proof. But his instincts were screaming. Through his connection with Tino, Ruda had some familiarity with the workings of Thousand Transformations.
"I think... we should advance."
"...What?"
Taken aback by the unexpected words, Arnold stared. Ei, Gilbert, Carmine — all of them looked at Ruda with expressions of disbelief.
But Ruda knew. The Thousand Trials were not something you could flee from.
A man even called Thousand Transformations would surely understand Arnold's personality.
That was precisely why — Ruda chose to do the opposite.
It was all intuition. But sometimes you had to trust your gut over logic.
Yes. If it was Thousand Transformations, he would place a powerful enemy on the retreat route.
But if Ruda said that outright, Arnold — who bore a grudge against Thousand Transformations — might not react rationally.
Ruda put on his most earnest expression and spoke from the heart.
"My — instinct is telling me. We should advance. On the retreat path — there's a powerful enemy waiting. Whether we turn back or not, we should push forward first and make a wide detour. Please — just this once. Trust me!"
§ § § "It's a ridiculous notion. But sometimes, that ridiculous instinct saves the entire party."
Moving with hurried steps as though being chased, he kept his senses peeled in every direction.
Arnold chose to trust Ruda. The conviction in those words had been real. Besides, with the possibility of Phantoms emerging from off the path, no one could guarantee the retreat was safe.
Ruda was a Solo Hunter. The fact that he'd survived as a Solo meant he was exceptionally skilled at detecting danger.
Balance was the key. A Hunter who flinched at danger was useless, but so was one who charged headlong into fatal peril.
In the end, Arnold found enough value in those words to gamble every life in the party on them.
"We made it! Nobody's behind us! That was the right call!"
There was no sign of pursuit. Even Gilbert, who had been nervously checking their rear the entire time, finally let out a breath of relief.
He'd claimed this was based on a previous experience that mirrored the situation — just how deep was that trauma?
They proceeded straight along the path. As the enormous jet-black castle drew closer, its alien nature sent shivers down their spines.
What exactly lived inside that castle? Arnold, with his limited experience in high-level Treasure Halls, couldn't begin to guess.
They advanced smoothly for over ten minutes. Just as the castle entrance came into view, the trees that had lined both sides of the path vanished, and the landscape changed entirely.
Ruda's eyes went wide and he let out a small cry. Gilbert went pale, and even Arnold drew a sharp breath.
Before them lay a circular plaza.
A round expanse paved with stone. Visibility was excellent and there was virtually no cover. The castle stood straight ahead beyond the plaza.
But the reason all of them were struck speechless was the mountain of black lining the plaza's outer edge.
Gilbert crept cautiously toward the heap and examined its true nature. His whole body shuddered.
"What the hell is... this...?"
It was a mountain of corpses — killed by every conceivable method.
The reason it appeared as a black mountain was that the vast majority consisted of black armor, helms, and swords.
Even a brief glance revealed that the means of death varied wildly. Burned to death. Crushed to death. Some were frozen solid; others had been torn apart along with their armor. From the shapes of the remaining helms and armor, they could barely discern that the occupants had been humanoid.
No — not humanoid. These were the same things as the Phantoms Arnold's group had just fought.
"This is... gruesome..."
Ei, her cheeks twitching, rummaged through the mountain of corpses. Stabbing a sword into the pile and pulling out a severed head, she found something like an octopus in shape. It was black and slick with slime, but the two green eyes on its front were dim and cloudy — devoid of any spark of life. Arnold's opponents had never had their interiors examined, but they clearly weren't human.
Ruda, too, tentatively inspected the pile of bodies, and found that every single one had faces and forms slightly different from a human's. Considering the abandoned equipment, "異形の兵士" — aberrant soldiers — seemed an apt description.
Gilbert surveyed the towering heap and murmured in a daze.
"All of this... Thousand Transformations did this...?"
The plaza was vast. The numbers piled along its outer edge numbered in the hundreds, not the tens or twenties.
Phantoms dissolved into the ambient air almost immediately after their life functions ceased. The stronger the Mana Material, the longer the process took — but given how recently these had been defeated, it was no surprise that Ruda's group had been able to walk right through here without issue, with the exception of that one battle.
To line up this many Phantoms that Arnold had killed with everything he had — this was beyond anything humanly possible.
Unbelievable. But there was nothing else to believe. Who else could have created such a scene?
Looking at the bodies — each killed in a different manner — the epithet Thousand Transformations finally made sense.
"......Arnold, sir — look. In the center of the plaza, there are remains of a campfire — h-he did this kind of insane thing, right here in this place—"
His heart slammed against his ribs. Something cold raced up his spine. Arnold grasped what it was, but his expression betrayed nothing — only stunned silence.
The sensation he hadn't felt in so long — was fear. Fear of something incomprehensible, of an absolute superior being.
Right now — I'm afraid to even challenge him.
He had considered the possibility of losing. But that had been on a party-wide basis.
Arnold had always been certain of his own supremacy. At every moment, without exception — even when he'd been ambushed and knocked down by Peerless Shadow in that tavern.
His heart pounded. He exhaled raggedly, then stared down the mountain of corpses once more.
This was — Level 8. He was far, far too distant. He couldn't envision a path to victory. Gritting his teeth, he clenched his sword until his knuckles whitened.
"......Damn it, damn it, damn it."
Not enough. He wasn't enough. His current self was far, far too insufficient. So much so that he couldn't even identify what was missing.
Ei noticed Arnold's state and watched him with concern.
A captain had to stand at the front. He had to show strength to his companions.
Arnold crushed the violent turmoil inside him through sheer willpower and looked ahead. At least on the surface, he projected an unshakable front.
Ei's expression returned to normal. She hadn't been deceived by the act. She likely understood Arnold's inner conflict perfectly and was choosing to honor his intentions.
It didn't solve the root problem, but Ei's composure helped Ruda regain a measure of his own.
That's right. There was no time to dwell on conflict. What mattered now was figuring out how to get everyone out of this hellish Treasure Hall alive.
Regardless of the circumstances — even if his will broke — Arnold had a duty to lead his party. That duty would only end when Arnold died.
Would he wait for Thousand Transformations and bow his head, or take a longer route to find the exit...
That was when Ei's eyes went wide.
She flinched involuntarily but quickly took a deep breath, then whispered to Arnold in a voice too quiet for anyone else to hear.
"...Arnold, we're in deep trouble. ...It's coming. A massive horde — it's insane! There's nothing we can do!"
"...What?"
Ei's gaze was fixed toward — the direction Arnold's group had just come from.
Hundreds of meters away, beyond the horizon, something black was writhing.
No — not something. It was knights. A legion of aberrant knights in black armor. The distance was still great, but they were advancing steadily, like a wave rolling toward them.
The exact number was impossible to gauge, but they were unquestionably a horde beyond any hope of matching. The orc army they'd fought the other day had been of similar scale, but these opponents were of an entirely different caliber.
Even if Arnold drained every ounce of his life force and fought to the death, he wouldn't cut them down by half.
Noticing the horde at the same time, Ruda's eyes went wide.
With an expression caught perfectly between tears and laughter, he murmured softly.
"A Thousand... Trials..."
So this was the trial...!?
"This is insane... damn it..."
He swept his gaze around the entire plaza. They couldn't hope to escape even if they ran now.
And fighting was equally hopeless — not one chance in ten thousand. In this wide-open space, they'd simply be surrounded and crushed. Could something with no room to overcome even be called a trial?
The other members had noticed the Phantom horde too. They were completely frozen.
But he couldn't give up until the very end. Catching his breath, he searched for any desperate stratagem.
His gaze snagged on the jet-black castle beyond the plaza.
This was the true core of the Treasure Hall. Its danger level was likely incomparable to anything they'd faced so far.
But — was it still better than being devoured here?
The aberrant swarm was closing in. There was no more time.
The companions who had been frozen moments ago had now recovered their senses and were waiting intently for Arnold's words.
And Arnold made his decision.