I ran into Eva just as I reached the top of the stairs and stepped into the Clan Master's office.
She was looking toward the open bookshelf door, and when she spotted me, she blinked.
I was now, one might say, a living Treasure Hall — clad in my finest Treasure Weapons, selected and equipped as quickly as possible.
A dark blue cloak, a crossbow-type Treasure Weapon slung over my back, and a sword-type Treasure Weapon of middling length.
Ring-type Treasure Weapons adorned each of my fingers, and even that wasn't enough — I'd threaded several more onto a fine chain-type Treasure Weapon hanging at my waist. Even *that* wasn't enough, and the rest were stuffed into belt-mounted pouches.
There sure are a lot of ring-type Treasure Weapons. Why do human hands only have ten fingers, anyway?
My clothes and underwear weren't Treasure Weapons — just the sturdy gear common among lightly equipped Hunters. But everything else was practically a Treasure Weapon. And even with all this, the uncertainty of what awaited had me on the verge of vomiting.
From experience, I already knew that an ordinary man outfitted with Treasure Weapons was still mostly useless.
The Sub Clan Master was dressed as always in her white uniform, armored from bottom to top, not a single gap despite the fact that evening had already fallen. Even though it was nighttime, she was still working? She truly was diligent.
Incidentally, the existence of my private room was already known to nearly everyone, so she showed no surprise.
Eva had been involved in the construction of the Clan House from the start, and for Hunters, spotting hidden rooms was practically a professional specialty.
Even in daily life, she apparently checked for unused spaces by constantly gauging ceiling height and distances to walls. Terrifying.
"What's the matter, Klye-san? All that heavy equipment…"
"Hehehehe… Just going out for a little stroll."
"…If you're that worried, you could just not go."
She saw through me in one shot.
"Hehehehehe… No idea what you're talking about."
In this desperate situation, nothing but strange laughter would come out. Eva stared at me with a look of exasperation, sizing me up and down.
It wasn't that she'd noticed the Treasure Weapons — I always had them concealed all over my body.
"Why don't you bring another Party along as backup?"
Eva offered an attractive suggestion.
But even though they were fellow Clan members, their Party and mine were different. At this hour, no Party would willingly trek through the night to reach a Treasure Hall known to be dangerous, and I couldn't exactly ask too much of them.
I steadied my breathing and put on the best face I could manage.
"No problem. Everything is going according to plan."
"Wait just a moment."
Without so much as acknowledging my bravado, Eva stepped in close. Her gaze was fixed on the pendant around my neck.
A simple pendant with a metal capsule hanging from it. Not a Treasure Weapon.
"…That's a Citri Slime, isn't it?"
"…………"
"I told you to absolutely never open it because it could destroy the Imperial Capital if used carelessly—"
Eva stared at it intently but made no move to reach for it. Crisis management was on point.
The capsule had been sleeping at the very bottom of my safe. Inside, supposedly, was a selectively bred slime — but I'd never seen it, so I had no firsthand knowledge.
Slimes were among the weakest of all Monsters. Their viscous bodies were essentially one giant organ — soft enough that you could punch them, cut them, boil them, or roast them and take them down with ease. There were many varieties, but almost all of them were negligible presences.
In my book, slimes were the weakest of the weak — the me of the Monster world, so to speak. But the thing in this capsule was apparently in a different league entirely. I didn't know how, but if that's what they said, then it must be true.
Treasure Weapons were powerful, but their potency and duration depended on the magic power stored within.
The ones who usually infused magic into my Treasure Weapons were the rear guard of the "Mourning Specter." The last time they'd charged them was before the expedition — over two weeks ago — so most of the magic would have drained away by now. I couldn't count on much in the way of power.
The capsule was meant as a substitute. Tino was exceptional, and I was sure everything would be fine. I planned to avoid combat and flee as much as possible, but taking precautions for the worst case was only natural for a Hunter.
I was a cautious, hardboiled man, after that.
Truthfully, I didn't want to. I desperately wanted to avoid it. But none of my other weapons were portable enough to carry, so I had no choice.
The way to use it was a bit sketchy too, but we'd be inside the Treasure Hall — I could just hurl it and run. No Treasure Weapon was worth more than the life of my adorable, adorable junior.
"Oh come on. Something that violates Imperial law? As if I'd have something like that."
"……"
But unlike me, a man who cherished the rule of law, my childhood friends had a tendency to view laws as things to be broken.
The way she kept pressing me was liable to expose my bluff, so I quickly grabbed the handle of the large window behind the desk and wrenched it open. An unexpectedly cold, powerful wind blasted in through the wide opening.
The reason it opened inward was because otherwise Riz would have simply smashed through it without hesitation. But a precaution like that came in handy at times like this.
Eva was looking at me with a rare expression of genuine worry. Her eyes kept drifting to the Citri Slime.
She was probably worried I'd do something reckless that would affect the Clan's operations.
"A-are you really… going to be okay?"
Mm, mm, yeah. Nope, not at all…
If it were up to me, I'd want to bring someone along. But this "Dark Wings of the Night" was a one-person job.
§ § § "Um… shouldn't we, you know, retreat by now?"
The fierce warrior dissolved into the air without leaving a single trace of its existence behind.
Ruda watched the wolf warrior vanish and made her suggestion to Tino.
Gregg lowered his well-worn longsword, equally worn from battle, and nodded in agreement.
"Right. At this rate, there's no way the rescue target's still alive. Going further is just a waste."
The wolf warrior had been strong. Its full-body armor deflected most attacks, and the slashes delivered by its powerful arms carried enough force to guarantee a fatal wound if they landed squarely.
Beast-type Phantoms generally excelled in speed and strength, but on top of that, a fully armed wolf warrior was far beyond anything that should appear in a Level 3 Treasure Hall.
Gregg was a veteran rated at Level 4, yet even for him, fighting it one-on-one would have been brutally difficult.
The fact that they'd managed to defeat the Phantom with minimal injuries came down to two factors: the enemy was a Stray, giving them the advantage of numbers, and Tino had constantly drawn the warrior's attention and restricted its attacks.
But if even one of them had been wounded partway through, the fight would have dragged on much longer.
In response to the gazes of Gregg and Ruda, the leader replied without so much as twitching an eyebrow.
"The decision stands. We haven't even entered the Treasure Hall yet."
"H-hey, come on. What's the point of being stubborn? No matter what, your life is more important, right?! Those guys were clearly from the 'White Wolf's Den' — the inside of that hall is probably crawling with more of them."
"The last time we came, there were only regular wolves…"
Ruda looked in the direction of the Treasure Hall and shuddered, shoulders trembling.
Normally, what appeared in the "White Wolf's Den" were Phantoms that were simply oversized wolves — modeled after the extinct Silver Moon, they were called Red Moon Phantoms. Not armed, humanoid wolfmen.
What had come out when Ruda visited a few weeks prior had been exactly that, and in terms of strength, they were far below wolf humanoids.
More importantly, the armor of a fully equipped wolf humanoid couldn't be slashed through with a short sword like Ruda's. To inflict damage, you'd have to accurately target either the only unprotected part — the head — or the thinly armored joints.
With Ruda's current skill, aiming for the head of a nimble wolf humanoid while dodging its attacks was asking too much. She might manage with practice, but the last thing anyone wanted was to practice in a life-or-death situation.
"It'll be good training."
"Training… seriously…"
Tino shrugged as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Despite the abnormal circumstances, her remarkably composed attitude made Ruda acutely aware of the gulf between them.
As if to say this kind of trial was nothing she hadn't walked through countless times before.
This was — the "Beginning Footprint."
"In any case, Gregg-san is mistaken."
"Just Gregg is fine."
"Gregg is mistaken."
Tino glanced at Gilbert, who was staring down at his sword with a skeptical expression.
He held the most powerful weapon of the group. Regardless of his personality, he would be the main attacker this time.
The Master hadn't arbitrarily fobbed off a hapless boy onto Tino without reason.
As expected, everything they needed was in place. The Master was correct.
Tino nodded once, then looked toward the Treasure Hall, from which roars still intermittently rose, and spoke.
"The fact that the Master dispatched us means the rescue target is still — alive."
"…!?"
Tino's declaration left Gregg speechless.
He wouldn't understand. No — there was no way anyone would normally understand.
Since the Treasure Hall was a danger zone, the vast majority of people who went missing there were dead. A Treasure Hall in an uninhabited area where no nearby Hunter could hear your cries for help made it even worse.
The only way to confirm whether the target was actually alive was to visit the Treasure Hall yourself.
Could anyone really predict that from the Imperial Capital, far away?
Anyone you asked would call it impossible. At best, all you could do was calculate the survival probability based on the date the person went missing.
But he could do it. He could make the impossible possible. He could shatter common sense.
That was precisely why Klye Andrich was Level 8. The Master was no mere fool.
"Since the brilliant and resourceful Master has given me an order, there is unquestionably a purpose behind it. Gregg, what do you think a Level 8 Hunter is — one of only three in the entire Imperial Capital?"
The cold intimidation carried in that gaze drew a cold sweat down Gregg's cheek.
Ruda forced a bright tone, as if to sweep away the unpleasant atmosphere.
"Y-yes. If the rescue target is alive — we have no choice but to press on. Right, Gilbert?"
Gilbert, who had been suddenly addressed, grimaced without touching on the substance of her words.
"…The Purgatory Sword's magic power is spent. It should've just been charged recently… but I can't charge it myself…"
"…Huh?"
Treasure Weapons required vast amounts of magic power.
Unless you were a mage — someone accustomed to using magic daily, boasting several to dozens of times the magic capacity of an ordinary person — you needed to store magic power in advance.
In the Imperial Capital, there were even mages who specialized in that very service.
If there were a mage in the Party, they could handle the charging. But this Party had no mage.
At Gilbert's despairing words, Tino, who had quickly grasped the situation, murmured: "Mastaa… Mastaa, do you hate me…?"
Tino and the others hadn't even entered the Treasure Hall yet.