The End of the Vortex
The dungeon of Toltpier came to an unprecedented conclusion. Who would have guessed that clearing it would scatter its rewards across the entire world? Not even a veteran dungeon explorer’s grandfather could have predicted this outcome.
Barzet’s mercenary band… didn’t actually disband. It remained intact. Even though their leader had his head chopped off and died, the group held together. If anyone thought that meant they had surprisingly solid internal discipline, they would be wrong. The reason was far simpler.
Barzet hadn’t died.
“Artifacts made by a demigod really are on another level.”
The 8th-circle mage’s title was demigod. It meant they had become half a god, and Barzet had just experienced exactly what that meant. To think there existed an artifact that could resurrect someone even after their head had been severed. Only a true demigod could create such a thing.
“It’s a shame it’s single-use.”
“You’re quite greedy.”
“Well, I should be satisfied that I’m still alive.”
Still, thanks to the experience, Barzet was more motivated than ever. He had personally witnessed the power of the artifacts now scattered across the world. It was only natural that he wanted them for himself.
I parted ways with Barzet cleanly. Leaving behind the man who was already rushing off to collect the artifacts, I stayed in the marquisate a little longer.
“Fifth circle, you said?”
“I was lucky.”
Jerry had reached the fifth circle. He wouldn’t tell me what his new unique magic was, but watching him fire bullets that healed injured mercenaries made it clear he had gained something quite unusual.
“He drank the milk deliciously.”
And Leon had drunk the milk. A true model paladin. Justice itself was Leon.
At my words, Noa quietly spoke up.
“Master. Even so, Sir Leon saved me. Isn’t it too much to talk as if he did nothing at all?”
“They say the arm bends inward after all. You’ve already taken Sir Leon’s side just because he helped you.”
Did he think I was doing this because I disliked Leon? If someone like Ferant had performed even half as well, I would have jumped up in surprise and given him a standing ovation. But Leon’s standards were different. Different. A genius swordsman who had even awakened holy power, yet his performance was still so underwhelming.
“The Leon I know would have noticed the wicked tricks of that vile Rizel, who manipulates people’s minds, right from the start. He would have cut his throat the very moment they first met.”
“Exactly which parallel world’s version of me is that?”
“This one.”
I miss him. I miss the Leon from those days.
As I shook my head in regret, Chris suddenly raised her hand.
“Lady Ruina! The novel I just released, Toltpier’s Dungeon, Ruina Edition, is receiving rave reviews! It’s making money hand over fist!”
“When on earth did you write that?”
“Huh? Obviously the moment we arrived. As soon as rumors spread that Lady Ruina had successfully cleared the dungeon, it went on sale.”
“That’s just fraud.”
What kind of title was Toltpier’s Dungeon, Ruina Edition anyway? If she wrote it before I even entered the dungeon, practically everything in it was pure fiction.
Chris wagged her finger at me.
“Lady Ruina. Remember this. What people like to see is already decided.”
“Swindler.”
“Call me a businesswoman.”
“Swindler.”
After exchanging a few words with Chris, I turned to Muran. She was carefully touching something. It was the only real harvest from the turbulent Toltpier dungeon.
Muran examined the Holy Grail from every angle before murmuring softly.
“…It’s not ordinary material. It’s made from human bones.”
“Bones?”
Wait, wasn’t the real Holy Grail also made from the bones of an Avatar?
“…That’s true, but this is a fake Holy Grail. Is there any reason to use the exact same material for a counterfeit?”
“They must have found bones with excellent effects!”
“…No. It means the bones likely belong to someone who performed on par with an Avatar.”
“That’s what I said.”
Still, someone who matched the achievements of the first emperor’s party—the ones who ended the Age of Mythology? Did such a person even exist?
“…Let me rephrase slightly. There’s a high chance these are the bones of a prominent figure from the Holy Kingdom’s side.”
“A saintess?”
“…I consider that possibility very likely.”
During the Great Invasion, five people saved the world. The saintess was one of them. Intelligent beings have always been saved by a handful of exceptional individuals. From the Age of Mythology until now, it has always been that way.
A saintess, huh. But if that’s the case…
“Since the saintess is an important figure even within the Holy Kingdom, they probably won’t reject a fake Holy Grail, right?”
“…Probably not.”
“Even if they did, Sir Leon would handle it, so I wasn’t worried. But this puts my mind even more at ease.”
“Lady Ruina, you really rely on Sir Leon quite a bit, don’t you?”
“He only drinks milk. I have to give him something to do.”
I asked Muran, “What’s the condition of the fake Holy Grail?”
“…I don’t feel any power from it.”
“I see.”
Adelian had said it was similar to the real one, so it probably wasn’t broken. Maybe the conditions hadn’t been met yet, or it simply hadn’t gathered enough power. Either way, it didn’t matter. We hadn’t come looking for the Holy Grail to use it ourselves.
“Finally.”
“Finally indeed.”
“At last.”
Chris, Leon, and I each voiced our thoughts. After months of the Holy Grail quest, the end was finally in sight.
I said, “Now we just need to deliver the Holy Grail to the Holy Kingdom and the mission will be complete.”
“I’ll finally get to see what Lady Ruina really looks like.”
“Were you curious about my face? I didn’t know you cared about such things, Chris.”
“To be precise, I’m curious about Sir Leon’s reaction when he sees your face.”
“I’m curious about that too.”
Chris and I turned to look at Leon at the same time. Leon, who had been about to drink his milk, set it down. He slowly opened his mouth.
“I am not the kind of person whose behavior changes based on someone’s appearance.”
“Really? Yet the first time you saw my face, you muttered the word ‘witch.’”
“No, that’s not what I—”
Target eliminated. Whew, that was exhausting.
“Lady Ruina. Sir Leon is not your enemy.”
“Sometimes it’s necessary to spar with each other.”
I put a pipe in my mouth. As the tobacco lit, I stared at the smoke rising toward the ceiling and fell into thought.
The Paltran marquisate, once overflowing with desire, had finally returned to normal. In a situation where everyone had gone back to their daily lives, only two kinds of people were still caught in that chaotic vortex.
Those whose brains had been destroyed by desire, or those whose brains had been broken from the start.
Which one was I? Neither. I was perfectly fine.
Enjoying one fun dungeon exploration was enough. There was no reason to keep chasing dopamine. Of course, if I had received all the magic Rizel had collected, there was a chance my brain would have broken too. But I didn’t, did I? There was no need to wander around searching for dungeons like someone suffering from withdrawal.
It was a shame, though. It felt like Rizel had gathered an enormous amount of magic, yet I couldn’t bring any of it with me. I didn’t even get a proper look at it. From the feel of it, Rizel had been a magic enthusiast who had spent hundreds of years collecting spells. How many would someone like that have gathered?
The same went for unique magic. I doubted he only had Distortion. If Rizel had truly gone all out, it would have been difficult to face him. I would have done my best too, but doing your best doesn’t always guarantee the best outcome. The result might have been quite poor. If that had been the case, I would have snatched Balance back and fled with all my strength. Because Balance is magic meant only for me.
It would return to me whenever I wanted.
The reason things hadn’t gone that way was entirely Rizel’s fault. Or more precisely, because something had betrayed him.
I quietly observed the Greed element giggling inside my body. It was an extremely alien thing. It didn’t resemble any element I had ever seen. The unique element, Greed. I had heard the name before. Kelton had told me. However, even I didn’t know exactly what effect it had.
Looking at Rizel, it seemed possible to create magic that steals other people’s spells. Hmm. Stealing, huh. I wasn’t particularly fond of the idea. Forcibly taking magic felt a little… wrong. Magic is pitiful, after all. Spells taken that way would escape at any moment. Just look at Rizel. The moment the unique element Greed betrayed him, countless spells fled from his body and turned to sand, killing him instantly. The method he had used to extend his life for hundreds of years had probably been magic too. Once that method escaped, he died without even showing his true strength.
If only Rizel had treated his magic better. Then at least a few would have stayed out of loyalty and he wouldn’t have died. Therefore, I had no intention of using the Greed element to steal other people’s magic. Instead… yes. How about the concept of rescue?
Rescuing pitiful magic and bringing it with me. Among those who refuse Balance’s trade, the ones who can’t make their magic happy. To rescue magic only from such people, how exactly should I manipulate the Greed element?
Hmm. Let me think about it.
I tapped out my pipe to extinguish it and spoke to the group.
“Shall we rest well today and depart first thing tomorrow?”
“Sounds good.”
We didn’t ask each other where we were headed next. After all, we had decided on our destination from the very beginning of the journey.
“Huh? Where are we going?”
Ah, right. Ferant doesn’t know.
I took a sip of honey wine and answered leisurely.
“Sir Ferant.”
“Yes?”
“It’s about time you went home.”
And so we parted ways with Ferant in the Paltran marquisate. For a runaway teenager, we had spent quite a long time together. Time to go home already.