I soothed my scowling, glaring Party members, and Ark's group quickly left the lounge.
Just as I'd hoped, Ark agreed to my request.
Given the nature of what I'd asked, he hadn't said anything specific, but he must have picked up on what I was getting at from my words and the situation.
As expected of Ark Rodan. The Empire's strongest Hunter was the strongest in generosity, too.
I love that all-around amazing Ark. The guy can even use healing magic, you know? Can you believe it?
He's nothing like useless old me.
High-Level Hunters tend to have powerful Party members, but once you go even further up, Solo Hunters start to increase.
For example, the very person who inspired us — the Mourning Specter — to become Hunters in the first place, the only Level 10 Hunter in existence, Exceed Sequence, was also a Solo.
Outstanding Hunters tend to leave everyone around them in the dust. And because of that, they tend to possess great versatility.
Ark kept the Treasure Hall's Level matched to his Party members. He'd probably level up much faster if he operated Solo or joined a stronger Party.
The fact that he still maintained a Party, even a harem one, might be what made him a rarity among ultra-elite Hunters.
I hope Ark never forgets that kindness of his. I'll continue to be in his care going forward.
While I was congratulating myself on my negotiation skills, Rizu — who'd been wearing a sour expression the whole time — pouted and shook my shoulder.
"Thaaat's not faaair! Krai, you rely on Ark way too much! Rely on me more! Hey! Hey!"
"............"
"With Luke not around, and I can't exactly spar with Cit, and Tee is weak sauce, my skills are gonna get rusty. Come on! I'll do anything!"
Rizu pressed her body against mine in a coaxing, rubbing motion. Was she a pet or something?
She did just say she'd do anything, right? ...Stay put, would you.
In terms of raw ability, I had no complaints about Rizu, but her temperament was far too wild. I let out a deep sigh.
"Rizu, do you actually understand what I'm asking you to do?"
"Sure do! Go to that little brat's place, steal the Treasure Weapon, and bring it back, right? Leave it to me!"
Rizu grinned with a hint of pride. Her sense of ethics was way too thin.
I wanted the Treasure Weapon, but I wasn't going to commit a crime to get it.
Rizu started counting off on her fingers with the casual energy of someone planning a vacation.
"It's a cakewalk compared to the Treasure Hall! The guarding knights are just amateurs, and with Lucia not around, the barrier-type defenses might be a little tricky, but I just need to swipe it before getting caught and make it back, right? Oh, hey! Maybe I should bring Tee along!"
Please don't.
She used to not be like this, but she'd gotten way too accustomed to rough work. Maybe she'd always had an aptitude for it.
As for the mask, that should be fine now. Ark would probably bring it back.
Citry — the voice of reason — rebuked her sister with an exasperated look.
"Big sis! Krai-san is in a tough spot, you know! There's obviously a reason he judged Ark-san more suitable for the mask, and besides, we have our own things to do!"
"Our own things?"
"Fundraising."
Rizu's eyes went wide at Citry's immediate answer, but she uncrossed her legs.
For whatever reason she accepted it, she gave a small nod and looked my way.
"...Ah, so that's how it is. Well, I guess there's no helping it. Can't exactly ask Ark-chan for this, either."
"We need to plug the savings gap before Lucia gets back... This is perfect timing, right?"
What was perfect about it? The conversation moved forward, leaving me completely in the dark.
Perhaps, as sisters, they had a synergy that outsiders couldn't see.
Rizu stood up, and with a complete reversal, flashed a bright, cheerful smile.
"...I see... As always, Krai's plans are perfect... maybe. Got it. Better to move fast, right? It might actually be fun for the first time in a while? Cit, get ready."
"I know, I know..."
"Alright, I'll go warm up first. See you later, Krai! I'll do my best to bring back good news, so wait for me!"
Waving her hand lightly, Rizu left the lounge with a spring in her step. With that demeanor, she probably wouldn't chase down Ark's group and commit armed robbery.
I had no idea what she planned to work hard at, but with Citry there, it shouldn't become a major problem.
"Well then, Krai-san. I'll be heading out too. Leave my sister's supervision to me."
"Yep, yep. Keep things peaceful."
I'd love to help if I could, but I'd probably just be in the way.
Citry smiled and gave a small fist pump in response to my hollow words of encouragement.
§ § § Back at their base, Ark and his group finished gearing up.
That said, their main occupation was being Hunters. Even without a Treasure Hall exploration on the schedule, they kept themselves prepared for the basics.
Ark was both a swordsman and a Mage. More than capable in bare-handed combat, he could also wield magic. Forget ordinary people — even against most Hunters, he wouldn't go down easily.
The pouch-style Space-Time Bag, which boasted far more capacity than its appearance suggested, was a top-tier heirloom of House Rodan passed down through generations. It not only offered enormous storage, but also possessed a special effect that prevented the deterioration of anything placed inside.
It held all manner of potions, food supplies, camping equipment — ready to handle any situation.
"You're really... going?"
"Are you worried?"
Ark gave a gentle smile to Yuu, the priestess looking up at him with gray irises, her expression full of concern.
The rest of the members, at least out of respect for their leader Ark, weren't outright complaining, but they carried out their preparations with somewhat dissatisfied expressions.
Their efficiency befit first-rate Hunters, but more than anything, there was a tension in the air — as though they were heading into a high-difficulty Treasure Hall.
If you had to name one defining trait of the Beginning Footprint, it wouldn't be the well-maintained welfare benefits unusual for a young Clan, nor the combat strength of its members, nor the massive Clan House — it would be the "Thousand Trials" that the Clan Master occasionally brought back.
Those descended equally upon everyone, and naturally, Ark's Party was no exception.
Rather, Ark's Party was the Clan's number two. They were more likely than the average member to be asked to run errands.
But any of them would tell you — even the most grueling Treasure Hall was better than a sudden request with zero time to prepare. That was why Ark and his Party never neglected equipment maintenance and always kept themselves minimally ready.
Yuu Shiiragi's neat features twisted with worry.
"Yes. Krai-san keeps... well, dragging Ark-san into things."
"He's Level 8 — he should just handle it himself. And Ark-san, you're spoiling him too much."
Isabella, clad in the same pure-white robe she wore during Treasure Hall explorations, let out a deep sigh.
It was true. Ark rarely turned down Krai's requests.
If you were afraid of accidents, you couldn't be a Treasure Hunter — and several of those requests had indeed involved situations where someone had to act or serious harm would have followed.
"Don't you think he should handle it himself? He's got Rizu and Citry, after all."
Ark let out an exasperated smile at the voice seeking his agreement.
"Isabella, would you want me to send those two anywhere near Lady Eclair? I couldn't do something that terrifying."
"...That's... well, Rizu would genuinely try to pick a fight even with someone ten years old. She wouldn't give the slightest thought to the other person's rank or status."
"...That's a frightening thought, but it's entirely possible."
Armel, the swordsman, agreed with a stern expression.
Everyone knew the strength of the Mourning Specter, but their sheer audacity was equally well-known. As long-time Clan members who'd been around Ark's group, they knew the publicly known reputation was actually somewhat understated.
They were a bit like a bloodthirsty mafia.
"If Lucia and Anthem were here, it'd be a different story, but they still don't seem to have come back — w-wait, but if that's the case, can't Krai just go himself? Even with nobles, Krai could talk circles around them!"
Isabella shook her head in protest, but her voice had lost its earlier conviction.
She understood rationally that the decision was reasonable, but emotionally, she couldn't accept it.
Eclair Gradius was still a child, but she was a noble's child. She carried immense pride.
Moreover, Eclair had long faced harsh treatment as Ark's supposed rival — Krai. Krai could probably handle things no matter what, but between Ark's old friend Krai and Krai's rival, it was obvious who could deal with the situation more smoothly.
"Just accept it, Isabella. In the first place, we have ties to House Gradius. If anything troublesome comes up, we should be the ones heading there... It's a bit misplaced to complain about Krai."
Even Ark, who had a reasonable relationship with Krai, couldn't read the man's thinking.
But while the other members were one thing, for Ark himself, the "Thousand Trials" so far hadn't been anything worth fussing over.
He had the power to help, and the motivation.
He finished his preparations and finally drew a single sword from his Space-Time Bag.
A longsword with a white matte scabbard and a dull gold hilt. Almost no ornamentation, yet even sheathed, it possessed a solemn aura that captivated anyone who looked upon it.
A straight-blade Treasure Weapon said to have been used by the first Rodan.
The holy sword that had carved history alongside House Rodan and warded off calamity — Historia.
Among the many sword-type Treasure Weapons, this legendary blade was hailed as the strongest — an unparalleled edge that had never failed to cut anything.
Normally, weapons couldn't be brought into a noble's residence, but Ark was granted an exception.
In the first place, even stripped of one or two swords, Ark Rodan's combat ability far surpassed the escorting knights, and Lord Gradius understood that.
He'd been told it would be better not to bring the sword, but the holy sword was a weapon he carried with him at all times.
Ark trusted Krai, but he also knew that Krai was withholding information and attempting to impose some kind of trial.
As long as he didn't draw it, there should be no problem.
Preparations were complete. All that remained was to check on Eclair.
Just then, Isabella, who had finished her own preparations, furrowed her well-shaped brows and spoke.
"But, Ark-san. If we don't make it in time, won't 'I'm sad' — no matter how you look at it — come off as a joke?"
"...Isabella, you're so serious. Now then, Lady Eclair should be at Lord Gradius's residence at this hour. Shall we hurry?"
"Wh—!? Eh? What?! Was that about me?!"
Ark set off toward the residence where something seemed to be happening, bringing along the flustered Isabella and the side-eyeing rest of his Party.
§ § § The mask, won at auction for two hundred million Gill, was unsettlingly grotesque.
I'd heard the stories, but seeing the real thing in person, I might have skipped the auction entirely.
The mask — as if sculpted from kneaded raw flesh — pulsed as though alive, enough to make the House Gradius steward who received it on Eclair's behalf furrow his brow.
The maids and butlers praised Eclair for outmaneuvering that Level 8 Hunter at auction, but the moment they saw the real thing, their expressions clearly shifted.
A cursed Treasure Weapon of unknown effect. A flesh mask, flagged as dangerous even by the appraisers.
In the imperial capital's mansion. The auction was over, and Eclair had locked herself in her bedroom.
With the curtains drawn and the lights off, the pitch-dark bedroom held no one but Eclair. The room was nearly bare of furniture — all that stood in it was a large canopy bed and a desk.
The first day, she'd choked back tears amid overwhelming humiliation and rage. The second day, she'd thrown a tantrum and lashed out at things. What remained now was deep regret.
The servants came to call for her repeatedly, but she'd screamed at them and sent them away. Being seen in her current state was unbearable for a proud Gradius child.
She'd been shown mercy. That alone was hard enough to bear, but the Treasure Weapon she'd obtained was so horrifying it called the sanity of its exhibitor into question.
Even having won it in a fair contest and earned it with honor, this was far too monstrous a gift to present to the Ark she admired.
If you flayed the skin from a human face and shaved down the surface, you'd end up with something like this mask. "Flesh mask" — they'd certainly picked the right name.
The Treasure Weapon she'd been dead-set on obtaining just days ago now lay discarded on the desk beside her bed.
The concession alone was humiliating enough, and having seen the real thing, there was nothing left inside Eclair.
Her head throbbed. Meals had been left outside her door but remained almost untouched.
Over the past few days, she'd managed to regain some composure. But her body, lying on the bed, had no strength in it, and she had no will to do anything.
Her spirit was worn down, and even the anger she'd once harbored toward Thousand Transformations had faded.
What am I — supposed to do from here?
She pondered in a haze of consciousness.
She'd acted on emotion and racked up two hundred million in debt. It was the family's money, but she'd promised to repay it.
What now...?
Sell the flesh mask she'd won at auction? No — no merchant would buy it. The only reason it had fetched such a high price was largely because of Eclair herself. There was no way it would sell for more than she'd paid.
Give it to Ark as planned? Impossible. A Treasure Weapon she hadn't even won fair and square, whose effects were unknown — handing it over as a gift would only cause trouble.
Throw it away? After all the effort it took to obtain it?
Sell it to Thousand Transformations? That would be the ultimate farce.
They'd cut in, stolen her victory, and now she was supposed to face them and offer to sell it?
Just imagining it made her want to die, and Eclair let out a small retch.
Pointless questions swirled endlessly through her mind.
She shifted position in bed and looked at the flesh mask abandoned on the desk.
For Eclair, who had little tolerance for filthy things, even looking at it was enough to bring on nausea.
At first, when she'd heard the appraisers deemed it "unable to be appraised," she'd laughed at their incompetence. But seeing it in person, she now understood exactly why they'd given up.
Just touching it would be repulsive. Wearing it would be something no sane person could do.
That far into her thoughts, a question flickered through Eclair's mind.
Why had Thousand Transformations wanted this mask?
They'd been the first to desire it. They'd even attempted to negotiate with the exhibitor beforehand to secure it, and when others learned of this — other Hunters, merchants, and eventually Eclair — they'd jumped in to compete.
There had to be a reason worth all that effort.
She'd heard the rumors of it being the strongest Treasure Weapon, but seeing the real thing, she couldn't bring herself to believe that.
— Do you... want power?
"...Huh?"
In the darkness, a voice suddenly echoed through her mind, and Eclair bolted upright.
From somewhere, cold air was seeping in.
It was a hoarse, sullen voice. She didn't recognize it.
Instinctively, she reached out and grabbed the sword she kept by her pillow like a talisman.
The sword she normally swung effortlessly felt impossibly heavy. Just pulling it toward her nearly dragged her entire body along with it.
— I've been watching. I've been watching you for so long. That lamentation, that sorrow, that fury, and — that despair. A soul that gleams with extraordinary talent. The body is fragile, but... I shall be patient. You are worthy of receiving my power.
"...Th-the mask... is talking?"
Impossible. It looked terrifying, sure, but it was just a Treasure Weapon. Treasure Weapons couldn't talk.
She desperately tried to convince herself, but her gaze remained fixed on the flesh mask on the desk as though nailed there.
She hurriedly drew the sword and raised it. Using her left hand, she scooted backward on the bed.
She'd fought Monsters and Phantoms on several occasions before. But an inexplicable terror made the blade tremble and rattle.
"I do more than speak. Weakling. I am the one who propels humanity forward. I who bestows hope upon the fragile. A single host suits me just fine — I shall fulfill the purpose for which I have 'emerged.' My... Master."
"!?"
And then, in the darkness, the mask rose high into the air.
No — to be precise, it wasn't floating. Countless tentacles extending from both sides held the body aloft like arms and legs.
Impossible. Treasure Weapons required activation by their wielder to function. Eclair hadn't even touched it.
— That is a dangerous Treasure Weapon.
The weary expression and voice of the young man who'd come to negotiate just before the Treasure Weapon auction began flashed through her mind.
And then, the flesh mask split into a wide, grinning mouth and lunged straight at Eclair.