Phantoms were never mindless, invincible monsters.
Just as Treasure Weapons were created based on "items that once existed" recorded somewhere in the world, Phantoms were also created based on "living creatures" that had existed before.
That meant the towering bodies they bore, and the blades they swung down, had all once existed somewhere, at some point.
Gilbert caught the white blade descending from above with the greatsword gripped in both hands. The tremendous physical strength behind it made his arms groan and his knees threaten to shatter, but he barely held on.
Wolf Knights—Gilbert had taken to calling the weapon-wielding werewolves that for convenience's sake—boasted fearsome strength and endurance, along with agility that seemed impossible for their massive frames, regardless of which weapon they wielded.
They'd only fought a handful so far, but each one's raw power surpassed even Gilbert's, and their speed was on par with Ruda, who prided herself on being nimble.
Their stamina and endurance, meanwhile, far exceeded that of humans like Tino and the others.
A blow from those beastly arms was guaranteed to leave a serious wound if taken head-on. For Gilbert and Ruda, who were used to fighting with at least some breathing room inside the Treasure Hall, they were opponents several grades above what they normally faced.
They were genuinely formidable enemies, but fortunately, Tino and her group had one advantage.
That was—teamwork.
While Gilbert held the blade in place, Gregg lunged forward with his longsword, driving it into the joint of the Wolf Knight's sword arm—the gap between the vambrace and gauntlet.
The instant the pressure slackened, Gilbert deflected the greatsword pinned against him with tremendous force to the left.
The oversized blade, which looked like it could cut cleanly through anything, landed right beside the Wolf Knight. The creature let out a growl, its murderous gaze raining down on both Gilbert and Gregg.
And then, its massive body crumpled to the ground, eyes wide open.
Tino had crept up from behind, leaped nearly to the ceiling, and driven her blade into the back of its neck.
The short sword with its dark red blade, gripped in both hands, was a weapon a Wolf Knight had fortunately left behind after death when they'd cleared the White Wolf's Den earlier.
The blade, swung with her full weight behind it, tore through the thick fur, muscle, and bone, sinking halfway into the neck.
Though it couldn't sever the head clean off, the fatally wounded Wolf Knight didn't even have time to scream before dissolving into the air like mist.
Tino landed without making a sound.
Gilbert stared down at the spot for a while before letting out a relieved breath, his shoulders sagging.
A hint of fatigue was visible in his expression.
"Hah… hah… did we get it?"
"Seriously, this commission ain't worth the risk."
Gregg grimaced at the lingering sensation of thick fur beneath his hands.
It was better than metal armor, but the Wolf Knight's body hair was remarkably tough. Without giving it everything he had, landing a fatal blow would be difficult.
The interior of the nest was, just as Tino had predicted, not sized for the Wolf Knights' enormous bodies.
The ceiling, in particular, barely cleared the Wolf Knights' height.
There was no longer the risk of being attacked from above like in their first ambush, but the tension of facing a large magical beast in a dim, cramped space gradually wore down the party's morale.
Tino, who had just killed one with a single strike to a vital point using a weapon she'd barely picked up, said without changing her expression: "As expected, four of us can take them down without too much trouble. No matter how strong they are, the concept of cooperation doesn't exist for them."
That was the Wolf Knights' biggest weakness and the opening to exploit.
Even if each individual was powerful, they had no concept of combination attacks.
They wouldn't stop fighting their own opponent to help a dying comrade, and even if multiple Wolf Knights were present, it was perfectly viable for Tino—who had the most breathing room—to draw all but one away while the remaining three ganged up on the isolated Wolf Knight.
Of course, that was dangerous in its own right, but in this situation where every direction was swarming with powerful enemies, it was an effective tactic.
"We've got weapons now too."
"Would be nice if another one dropped, though."
Tino specialized in unarmed combat, but against Wolf Knights, that put her at a disadvantage.
She always carried a short sword, but it was strictly a sub-weapon. Getting her hands on a weapon that could one-shot a Wolf Knight with a well-placed thrust was a stroke of luck.
Ruda, who had spent the whole fight keeping watch for threats and looking for openings, finally let out a relieved breath.
Setting aside the tension and fatigue, their exploration of the Treasure Hall was going smoothly.
With two Thieves in the party, they had plenty of scouting capability. There was no worry about being caught off guard.
Wolf Knights seemed to operate alone most of the time, and navigating the winding, sprawling tunnels while avoiding them wasn't too difficult. Even when forced into a fight, an improvised combination was enough to get by.
Gilbert, for all his bombastic boasting at the assembly, had respectable strength. Gregg, with his extensive experience, was skilled at adapting to his teammates' movements. Once an opening was created, Tino could deliver the killing blow.
Conversely, if Tino drew attention, Gilbert and the others could exploit the gap.
Ruda hadn't made any flashy contributions, but that wasn't because she was weak. If Tino weren't a Thief, someone with Ruda's exceptional scouting abilities would have been indispensable.
If even one of them had taken a serious injury, things would have become problematic, but so far they were managing.
Everything had been calculated down to the last detail.
Perhaps even the weapon drops had been anticipated. It was the kind of thought that would draw laughter if spoken aloud, yet it crept into his mind all the same.
"The Master is right, as always. The Master is God."
"…O-oh. Yeah, that's right."
Gregg turned a strained expression toward Tino, who murmured as if trying to convince herself.
Clan Masters and Party Leaders were naturally charismatic people, but the trust Tino placed in her Master seemed to go beyond all reason.
More importantly, from everything Gregg had seen, he felt no charisma from Klye whatsoever.
He considered himself to have a keen eye after years of work as a Hunter, but he couldn't see anything remotely resembling the magnetic pull that powerful Hunters typically exuded.
When he'd learned Klye's true identity at the recruitment venue, he'd thought it was some kind of joke.
Even now, knowing about the Thousand Transformations, he couldn't believe it. And even after having it explained that everything had gone according to plan, he still felt something had to be wrong.
Being told Klye had reached Level 8 through connections alone would have been more convincing. Yet looking at Tino's earnest words, he could see genuine trust in her.
He had no intention of causing friction within the party during a hunt. There were plenty of things he wanted to say, but they could wait.
If they made it back alive, there would be opportunities to confirm things. Right now, the only priority was surviving this extraordinarily dangerous Treasure Hall.
As Gregg sheathed his longsword at his hip, Tino gave a slight shudder and spoke in a grave voice: "But there's still more ahead. The Master's usual trials are never this simple…"
"…Huh? What are you talking about?"
Gilbert voiced what Gregg was thinking in an exasperated tone.
The current situation was one where an average Hunter would have chosen to flee without hesitation.
In an unexplored Treasure Hall, that might be one thing, but when the Phantoms that appeared could be predicted—and unexpected events were still occurring—it signaled the emergence of an emergency situation.
Not for Ruda, not for Gregg, and certainly not for Gilbert—none of them could imagine a trial beyond what they'd already faced.
"…For now, let's proceed carefully toward the back. There was no sign of anything near the entrance. No corpses either. The rescue target should be deeper inside."
§ Despite the crushing fatigue weighing on every part of his body, Gilbert Bush's mind was razor-sharp.
The electric tension of a battlefield. The acrid smell of battle. The sight of powerful Phantoms he'd never encountered before—all of it brought not fear, but exhilaration.
"I can't keep going with you anymore. I can't keep up. I'm leaving the party."
Gilbert remembered the words spoken to him the day before he'd left his party, by a young man among its members.
The young man had been about three years older than Gilbert. He'd been in the same party since Gilbert first came to the city, but his ability was a full tier—or more—below Gilbert's.
Gilbert knew he'd been working hard, but the gap only kept widening.
When the young man had delivered that notice, and the other party members had followed suit one after another while eyeing Gilbert's expression, he had bitterly resented those words. But now, infiltrating a Treasure Hall beyond his actual capability, he could understand those feelings a little better.
They'd been struggling too, and he should have considered his teammates' feelings more.
But more than that, fighting alongside party members of equal or greater strength had electrified Gilbert.
Since arriving in the imperial capital, he'd belonged to the same party. There had been occasional temporary additions, but the comrades Gilbert had fought alongside were, as a rule, all weaker than he was.
But now it was different.
Now he had comrades he could fight beside as equals.
Gregg's sword might not match Gilbert's in sheer impact per swing, but it was technical enough to slip through the gaps in armor and offered far more options. Tino's ambush—that leap aimed at the Wolf Knight's neck and the precise, unhesitating strike—was nothing short of spectacular.
Ruda's weapon was too weak to deal a fatal blow to a Wolf Knight, but she'd proven herself capable of everything from scouting to suppression.
Fighting together against a Wolf Knight—the kind of foe that was nearly impossible to face alone.
A sensation he hadn't felt in a long time burned hot in Gilbert's blood, and as though new fuel had been added, the fatigue that should have made his sword feel impossibly heavy now melted away, and he swung it with ease.
Several hours had passed since entering the Treasure Hall. Gilbert showed no signs of slowing down, and Gregg said in disbelief: "Hey, hey—you look like you're doing great."
"Hmph. I'm finally hitting my stride."
The Wolf Knight's blade, which at first he could barely hold back, was gradually being pushed away.
He hadn't been holding back at the start, not at all. But whether it was a mental shift or a physical one, the growth was plain to see.
Hearing yet another Wolf Knight collapse with a thud, Gilbert gasped for breath.
If there was a single thing he had to complain about, it was this: "If only the Purgatory Sword still had its mana…"
He looked down at the Purgatory Sword in his hands and sighed.
The Purgatory Sword had lost its power as a Treasure Weapon. Even if he wanted to channel mana into it, the burden was too great for Gilbert's reserves. The same went for the other members.
If the Purgatory Sword's power could be unleashed, they could deal with Wolf Knights far more easily. A feat like Thousand Transformations was impossible, but coating it in flame and melting through a Wolf Knight's sword would have been within reach.
Exploration would have progressed even more smoothly, too.
Seeing Gilbert's disappointed expression, Tino said with a hint of exasperation: "It's still too early for you to wield a Treasure Weapon, Gilbert. Rely on a Treasure Weapon and your skills will rust. That's why I don't use one either."
"…You still don't have a Treasure Weapon?"
He was already used to the little leader's blunt tone.
Without anger, Gilbert simply widened his eyes in surprise at the unexpected information.
Now that she mentioned it, Tino had never used a Treasure Weapon.
Forget about the ones they'd just picked up—if she'd been exploring the Treasure Hall enough to earn a Level 4 certification, she'd have found at least one or two by now. And being part of a major Clan, she could certainly have received one from a fellow member.
Looking puzzled, Gilbert prompted her, and Tino continued while patting her arm: "Treasure Weapons are trump cards. They shouldn't be used in everyday combat, and you shouldn't fight enemies you can't beat without one. This commission from the Master is surely meant to teach you that very lesson. Without a doubt. Absolutely. He didn't drain the mana from your Purgatory Sword just to be petty."
"…That's an absurd amount of meddling."
It was hard to believe. But the fact that Tino herself wasn't using a Treasure Weapon lent credibility to her words.
Indeed, in their test of strength without Treasure Weapons, Gilbert hadn't stood a chance against Tino.
As Gilbert furrowed his brow and looked down at the Purgatory Sword once more, Tino added: "The Treasure Weapons I've found in the Treasure Hall are delivered to the Master through my older sister. The Master appraises their performance, and if they're good, he takes me to Ice to sell them. In other words, the Master is God."
"…Doesn't that just mean you're getting exploited by someone who's really good at it?"
Gregg watched Tino with twitching eyelids.
"That's not it at all. The Master hates sweets but still goes with me anyway. In other words, the Master is God."
Gilbert was more inclined to agree with Gregg, but seeing Tino's dead-serious expression, he couldn't bring himself to interject.