"If she can't be reformed, we'll need to put out Shannon's eyes."
Having been told that, I walked through Aramsass with the note in hand, still unable to sort out my feelings.
It was past noon, and I didn't want to run into Shannon at the manor — that would be awkward — so I was looking for the private academy Clara had told me about.
"Surely this is going too far..."
What I couldn't wrap my head around was the question of whether it was really necessary to put out someone's eyes over what was just a prank.
For Shannon, her eyes — which should not have been able to see — had been rendered capable enough through her Skill that she could perceive her surroundings just as well as if she had normal sight.
The Skill activated through her eyes, so if her eyes were made unable to see... if they were destroyed, then even with the Skill, she would no longer be able to sense information about her surroundings.
That was the Fifth Generation's argument.
The Sixth Generation spoke to me as I wrestled with my thoughts.
"Still troubled by it? I understand how you feel, but that could have been too much for her too. It was precisely because Mireia had a personality like an older sister to Shannon that both my old man and I could feel at ease even with her abilities."
She must have been a kind person.
The fact that the Fifth Generation, who had such a dry personality, had chosen not to lay a hand on Mireia even though he thought it unnecessary — that told me she was the kind of person who would put herself at a disadvantage for others, much like Miranda.
The Fifth Generation had said:
"If you leave her be, it won't stay just a prank. You should crush any potential monster while she's still young."
I repeated the question in a low voice.
The streets were crowded, and no one so much as glanced at me even when I spoke aloud.
Along the main streets, numerous signboards for private academies were displayed.
The slogans were all different.
Some were dubious, while others had eye-catching signs.
"A candidate for a monster? I wouldn't say she's on par with Ceres, though."
My honest impression earned me a gentle scolding from the Fifth Generation.
'If an opponent uses a Skill, she can sense it — and she can touch the flow of magical power. Right now it's limited to petty mischief from a distance, but if Mireia put her mind to it, she could even manipulate a person's heart. That child was kind, so she used that power to heal people who carried wounds in their hearts. Do you understand? She was far too much for a little mischief-maker.'
The Sixth Generation spoke.
'She met the head of House Cerclie at the time as part of her healing work. He fell for Mireia, and things progressed all the way to marriage. Both Father and I wanted to keep her close, but we let her go thinking of her happiness.'
As though recalling the past, a hint of regret crept into the Sixth Generation's voice.
The Fifth Generation, however, remained unchanged.
'Marrying into House Cerclie — a prestigious house of civil officials — ended up being a good thing for House Walt as well. Being able to maintain ties with Central's robed nobility is a significant advantage.'
He was his usual self, as always.
It was typical of the Fifth Generation — and yet.
The Sixth Generation spoke.
'If she ever got serious, she'd be unstoppable. I taught the Third Generation's Skills to Shannon precisely to counter her.'
It seemed it was my duty to somehow bring Shannon — who possessed overwhelming power — back to her senses.
Even without sight, Shannon could live a perfectly normal life, and the fact that she merely pretended otherwise was eerie enough.
I had considered that she might not want anyone to find out, but her pranks on us were escalating by the day.
Right now all three of them were out, so there was no immediate problem, but if someone was left alone with her, things could genuinely turn dangerous.
'Can she touch the mind? No — she touches it through magical power... Either way, I need to do something about her eyes...'
The honest truth was that I didn't want to.
But my ancestors insisted that I must.
They weren't telling me to crush her. Rather, they wanted me to guide her toward redemption and — if at all possible — keep her from being destroyed. If it couldn't be done, then she would be a pitiful thing indeed...
That was how it felt.
(Why do I have to be the one agonizing over this...)
How did things end up like this?
If I left the mansion now, would Shannon's consciousness be severed from us? And if that happened... would Miranda be safe?
These thoughts kept surfacing, one after another, and I couldn't stop worrying.
(In the first place... I can't even imagine that kid turning into something like Ceres.)
The Ceres I knew had truly been a monster.
Even the First Generation, who had called her a monster, experienced that sensation of being drawn in just by her mere presence... Looking at it from a distance, I could tell how abnormal it was, but when you were right there in the thick of it, it didn't even seem strange.
But Shannon didn't look like that kind of monster to me.
If someone told me she was dangerous, then I supposed she might be. But to me, they seemed to be far too cautious.
(Maybe the Fifth and Sixth Generations were seeing a shadow of Mireia in Shannon.)
For me, the one I truly needed to be concerned about was someone like Mireia, who had mastered that skill called the Mystic Eyes.
And the one who resembled her was—
While I was lost in thought, I heard the Third Generation's voice.
"Lail, isn't it over here?"
"...Looks like it."
A swordsmanship dojo bearing a large signboard came into view.
This seemed to be the place Clara had told me about — where a former adventurer ran a private school.
Shouts could be heard from inside.
"Your footwork's not deep enough!"
"Yes, sir!"
"You think you can survive the Dungeon with that kind of effort! Louder!"
"Yes, sir!"
As the shouts echoed through the air, I peered inside the dojo.
This appeared to be a dojo run by a former frontline swordsman.
The Second Generation took one look at the place and offered his assessment—
"...Huh? That's the swordsman who made it to the fiftieth floor? He doesn't look all that strong to me."
The Third Generation agreed, but had a slightly different take.
"He might just be hiding his real strength, you know? As a fellow swordsman, I'm curious. But no matter how I look at it, he doesn't seem all that strong..."
The Fourth Generation weighed in.
"It's basically dojo swordsmanship. Not that I'm saying it's bad, but... it's been five years, so maybe his skills have gone rusty from lack of real combat?"
The Fifth Generation chimed in.
"Wouldn't it be better if Lail just fought him?"
The Sixth Generation...
"Indeed."
The Seventh Generation...
"A dojo challenger, is it? It might be worth trying while you're still young. Lail, that's exactly why you should—"
"...What do you mean 'that's exactly why'? Do you guys have a grudge against dojos or something? Why would I go challenging a dojo?"
The words slipped out before I could stop myself, and I made eye contact with one of the dojo students standing nearby. He had just stepped outside and caught every word.
"D-dojo challenger! He's here! Master!! A dojo challenger has come!"
I reached out toward the back of the student rushing inside, mouthing excuses I knew he couldn't hear through the open door.
"N-no, wait, that's not what I mean..."
The Third Generation's voice echoed in my head.
"Now you can't run away, Lyle! Come on, steel yourself and show them the swordsmanship you honed in real combat! Don't lose to some dojo swordsmanship!"
(...Though I was studying dojo swordsmanship myself right up until I went out into the world?)
Taking in the growing chaos of the dojo, I dashed out on the spot.
I fled.
The Sixth Generation spoke up.
"What, you're not gonna do it? How boring... I thought this would be fun."
Running, I shouted.
"This is not fun at all! Why do I have to go and be a dojo challenger? I was planning to learn all sorts of things from you people!"
The students who had come flying out of the dojo were chasing after me.
Their faces were beet red, flushed with rage.
At this rate, even if I tried to explain myself, they wouldn't listen.
I activated the Fourth Generation's Skill [Speed], boosting my running speed, then shook off my pursuers and went into hiding for a while.
Before heading back to the manor, I made my way to the other private school listed in my notes.
It was a place that taught alchemy — how mages could acquire Skills and put them to use.
Many people possessed Skills that excelled in alchemy and related disciplines, and since this academic city seemed to draw plenty of those types, there was a decent number of students.
A bespectacled man in a robe offered me tea.
"Herbal tea."
"Thank you. So, about that... I was hoping to hear your story about going to the deepest floor of the Dungeon?"
When I explained my purpose, he told me he'd be happy to talk if I could wait until his lesson was over.
I waited in the classroom, letting time pass while listening to his story.
"There are a lot of tales like that. However, I don't think I'll be much help? I did go, but my role at the time was support. I contributed to the party by illuminating the area with magic, or providing healing."
"No, I wanted to hear about the atmosphere, things to watch out for... At the dojo, they mistook me for a challenger and I couldn't get anyone to talk."
At that, the man began to chuckle.
When I looked at him quizzically, he explained the situation.
"He was mainly a porter back then. That doesn't mean he was weak, since he also participated in combat. In fact, he was quite skilled. But he wasn't one of the main fighters of the party."
He went on to say that the main members had apparently left Aramsass and headed for Baim.
It was a large group of nearly fifty, but since support was so crucial in a Dungeon, apparently no more than fifteen actually fought on the front lines.
"He might even be leading a mercenary company now. It often pays better than being an adventurer. Besides, skirmishes have been increasing in various places."
The man spoke with a slightly sorrowful expression.
"The potions I make sell like hotcakes too. So, naturally, students gather here."
To the man who gave a wry smile, I asked about what to be aware of in Dungeons.
According to him—
"Dungeons vary by location. Especially in Aramsass, a boss monster blocks the path every ten floors. The bosses on the tenth and twentieth floors are often defeated, but from the thirtieth floor onward, they usually remain undefeated."
"They revive, right?"
"Yes, in about a week to ten days. But the ones you really need to watch out for are the bosses left undefeated. Over long periods, they grow stronger. They're already formidable, but since they keep accumulating power, they become quite troublesome."
Having offered me this warning, the man continued with advice for adventuring.
"You might manifest a Skill if you challenge a Dungeon. Do you have one already? Still, be careful when you grow stronger through a Skill. Many Skills give you the feeling that your own power has increased, but many adventurers fail because of that. 'Skills' and 'Growth'—those two things can drive adventurers mad."
The gentle-looking man simply smiled and said, "Well, just consider it advice from a senior."
That's what the Seventh Generation said.
"Hmm, a fine adventurer. Most likely, he disagreed with his original party and stayed behind in Aramsass. So Clara only heard about it secondhand and didn't know the details."
It's not Clara's fault at all. I received valuable information, so I was grateful.
"Excuse me, there's one last thing I'd like to ask."
"What is it?"
Before leaving, I asked the man one final question.
Since I was accepting Damian Barre's commission, I wanted to confirm.
"If we're talking about a party capable of defeating the boss on the fortieth floor, how large of a party would that require?"
The man thought for a moment, then smiled.
He seemed to have realized it was a commission from the Seven Worthies of the Academy City.
"You're accepting Damian Barre's commission? Back in my day, I think we barely managed it with nearly fifty people. It depends on how strong you are and how capable your companions are, but a standard six-person party would start struggling once you go below the tenth floor. Even with talent, six people would hit their limit around the twentieth floor. It's not just about raw strength—even sustaining combat over that duration is difficult. You could push through if you really forced it, but that would make you disqualified as an adventurer."
It's not enough to just be strong.
If you can't earn anything, there's no point in being an adventurer.
He said that if you were willing to forgo collecting materials and Magic Stones from the Monsters you defeated, you could reach the boss on the thirtieth floor.
I thanked the man and left the academy.
I also purchased the potions that were on display, and he reminded me not to push myself too hard.
On the way back to the mansion.
In an empty street, I tested the newly acquired Fifth Generation Skill—Dimension—and the Sixth Generation Skill—Spec.
A more three-dimensional map formed in my mind, allowing me to perceive the subtle movements of people throughout the city.
Around the next corner, there were two males.
They looked to be in their early teens, playing around.
Now able to obtain more complex information, I was testing out how to use the Skills.
"The amount of information has increased dramatically."
It wasn't all good though—at the same time, a flood of data was pouring into my head.
It would take time to get used to it.
The Sixth Generation offered some advice.
"Don't push yourself by continuing to use the application-heavy Skills. Depending on the situation, just checking the flat map is fine enough. The magic consumption is no joke either."
I intended to follow that advice.
But right now, I was still testing the Skills, so I kept walking.
Once I passed the corner, sure enough, two children were playing there.
(...This Skill might actually be incredibly powerful, huh? The Sixth Generation told me absolutely not to go into the details, but I'm starting to get a sense of it.)
It was the Sixth Generation who had come up with the idea of using the Skills in combination.
And it was the Sixth Generation who understood just how significant that was.
Then again, the Fifth Generation was impressive too for noticing it.
Sometimes you wouldn't realize something just by feel—you had to check it on the map to notice.
That was the Fifth Generation for you.
Always focused on efficiency, they probably saw how effective this Skill would be whether for governing or for waging war.
The Second Generation spoke to me.
"So then, Laiel. Have you made up your mind? Although, first you'll need to get your hands on proof that Shannon can see.")
But even if I was going to lecture him, I first needed to peel back Shannon's true skin.
It was also necessary in order to tell Miranda the truth.
(I mean, the last thing I need is to be seen as making false accusations against my host's sister. Ideally I'd just stay out of it entirely... but Miranda has been nothing but kind to us.)
Novem and Aria handled most of the household chores.
Miranda, who was busy with her studies at the academy, was deeply grateful to the two of them.
But even for us, who worked as adventurers, coming home to a meal already prepared made all the difference.
Not only could we rest right away, but it put our minds completely at ease.
The help Miranda provided us was a huge part of that.
If we moved out, Shannon would probably start driving out the servants one after another all over again, making things miserable for Miranda.
(...I have to make him change his ways.)
And so I began to think about how to bring Shannon around.