Then, a Bride?
The dungeon had been cleared.
The Red Horse of Circulation had agreed through negotiation to leave this place, and with an Appeasement verdict registered, the dungeon came to an end. Though in this case, it was I who had done the appeasing rather than the other way around, so the dungeon simply dissolved into nothing.
From now on, the horses of the grassland would never respawn. Once they died, only their souls would remain to wander the world—or perhaps be reborn as something else entirely.
And having claimed 94% of the dungeon-clear credit, I obtained an item called the Saddle of Circulation.
True to its Semi-Mythic grade, it came loaded with all manner of stats, but its most important ability was Mounting. The saddle could adjust its length and size to fit whatever creature sought to ride it, and mounting granted additional buffs to both the beast and the rider alike. I hadn't tested its upper limits, but I suspected even a fairly formidable dragon could carry me without strain.
─…It has become remarkably small.
"Well, it can even fit your true form, the actual Red Horse of Circulation."
I nodded, inspecting the saddle fitted onto the beast's back. There we go—a perfect fit.
"A size too large would make it awkward to move around. It needed to come down a bit."
─What am I to do now?
"For the most part, you'll stay where you've been staying. Then every so often, you come out and lend a hand when there's something that needs helping with."
─…Back there? Again?
The Red Horse shook its head wildly, as though in horror.
I shook mine right back. "You need to get along with your new friends."
─…Those people.
"Friends, not 'those people.' They're all good folk, really."
Even if they came across as a touch harsh at times, neither Rasty nor Pharaoh was truly bad at heart. Compared to the ancient monsters brimming with malice, they were positively angelic.
The gloom on the Red Horse's face deepened further. If I left it here in the Void Space, the lifespan of an entity meant to live forever would only wear itself shorter and shorter. Not that "forever" had much to fear from a little trimming.
"Or, well—there happens to be an opening somewhere. Care to take it?"
─Where might that be?
The Red Horse's eyes lit up, bright and eager—a lamb desperate to escape hell.
As it happened, I'd been meaning to find another Authority professor besides Rasty. Rasty only took students who could keep pace with her own coursework, which left plenty of rankers with middling talent unable to take any class on Authorities at all. Pharaoh certainly possessed an outstanding Authority too, but he taught only summoning and martial combat.
He might not match those two, but a conceptual entity that had lived eons while wielding its Authority had plenty to offer. As for a suitable subject… Illusion and Resurrection would do nicely, wouldn't it?
"You'll see when you get there."
─?
"Thank you for your hard work."
"Thanks, noona!"
"…Yes. Thank you for your hard work."
After sending the Red Horse—the newly appointed Professor of Illusion and Resurrection—off to the Academy, I ran into the Red Moon Guild.
Wind Gale Sword wore a faintly pleased expression at the news that the dungeon had been cleared; Jeoksa clutched his head as if his skull were splitting open. They had received the remaining 6% of the clear credit, and since this was a top-tier dungeon, that amounted to a hefty sum of experience and resources—roughly on par with the reward for clearing a respectable hidden dungeon.
But losing a high-level hunting ground that respawned was no small blow. Respawnable high-level monsters were never common to begin with, and the ones that paid out full experience and resources could be counted on one hand.
From Jeoksa's perspective, his little brother probably deserved murder.
"…Still, I'm glad you cleared it without any complications. We came straight from raid preparations, so we were pressed for time."
"I heard the gist of it from your brother here."
"My brother… haha. Hahaha."
Jeoksa cuffed his brother one more time and swallowed his anger. It was beyond anything he could reasonably forgive, but he never once crossed the line—never lashed out at me, nothing of the sort. Whatever his brother may or may not have proposed to me, I was the one who had knowingly cleared a hunting ground and dungeon belonging to another guild. Naturally he must have felt some resentment toward me, yet Jeoksa gave no sign of it.
Before I left, I handed the two of them an invitation.
"? What's this─"
"You know, that thing!"
Wind Gale Sword, sitting sulky and deflated after the beating, shouted as he took the crisp white paper. The document one absolutely had to pass through to enter Eli Academy—
"An admission ticket!"
"An admission… ticket?"
"Not exactly. It's a tryout voucher for the entrance exam. We'll be taking on another batch of new students soon. About ten of them, give or take?"
"If either of you is interested, challenge it whenever you like. The doors are open."
"Oh! Then me too—hey, give it back!"
"Hm?"
"It was addressed to me…"
"I told you to behave yourself, and this is what I hear? All this time."
Having plucked the invitation out of Wind Gale Sword's hands, Jeoksa bowed his head. "Not right away. When I find the time, I'll give it a try."
"Whenever's convenient. There's plenty of leeway anyway."
"Understood."
Time moved swiftly. The days of late October sprinted toward November, and the newly appointed Professor Red Horse carried on her classes alongside Rasty and Pharaoh. All of them were rankers with real talent, so their skills were leaping ahead—but it still wasn't enough. Not yet at the level needed to stand against the coming calamity.
With so little information available about the Red Horse, I'd harbored a certain unease, but teaching seemed to pose her no great difficulty. If anything, the work itself appeared second nature to her; she went around passing tips and knowledge about Authorities to students from other majors as well.
When I asked why, this was her answer: 'Once, I tried to make other living beings aware of Circulation. It was a futile endeavor.'
She was the one who had made the horses of the grassland immortal. Because she had wanted equals—friends—rather than subjects, she had done such a thing. But ordinary horses could never understand.
"…It just won't connect."
Meanwhile, I was sitting on the ranked-match queue.
Matching in progress…
My current ranking: 15th.
The past month had been uneventful, so I split my time between teaching at the Academy and occasionally visiting Pharaoh's empire. Nothing new had turned up, so I figured I might as well climb the rankings a little and poured a great deal of time into matchmaking—but the queue simply refused to pair me.
Because the moment they meet me, they're guaranteed to lose.
Only five thousand players existed at Master tier or above, and the vast majority of them never queued at all. No wonder the Sword God, who had barely been active for years, hadn't relinquished the number one spot even as his fourth year wore on. He'd climbed so high that he couldn't climb down.
So I'd taken to leaving the stream off and only turning it on once a match actually popped—but now they seemed to be monitoring even my login status, and I wasn't getting matched at all. If I hadn't spent nearly entire days queued up, I never would have hit 15th in the first place.
"…That's a difficult situation."
"It is, isn't it? And here I wanted to crack the top ten before the year turned."
"Indeed. A difficult situation."
"You're not saying my presence is the difficult part, are you?"
"How could that possibly be."
"…Hmm."
I pulled my eyes from the message window still blinking Matching in progress… and looked at someone else. The chief administrator managing Elbritte's affairs, and Pharaoh's beloved—Serek.
"I am not his beloved."
"Then a bride?"
"…Would you kindly leave? A great deal of work is backed up today."
Serek's sand-formed hands sorted through documents with crisp efficiency. Unchanged from then to now—flawlessly deft at handling her work.
"What brings you here today? Surely not something concerning His Majesty—"
"Why didn't you go?"
"……"
"I distinctly recall telling you that you could."
Ever since laying claim to the desert, Pharaoh had been kicking the empire's revival into full gear. He spent most of his time there, outside of the regular classes he was obligated to teach at the Academy. And I had told Serek that as long as she kept up with her assigned duties, she was free to commute to the desert.
Serek's hand stopped mid-reach for another document.
"…I merely need time to sort myself out."
"Sort yourself out?"
"……"
She held the papers clenched in her hand and said nothing. Her face was a portrait of confusion.
"Don't tell me it's because of what Rasty showed you?"
"…She was not me."
"All I did was make you honest with yourself. I didn't meddle with anything else."
It was the tenth day after the Interference Dungeon had ended. Rasty, who had taken an interest in the pair's relationship, came to me saying she had a wish, and asked what had happened during that dungeon. Ordinarily I'd have kept it to myself, but I'd promised to grant Rasty what she desired, and after some deliberation I showed her the image of Serek who had been made 'honest.'
The problem was that Rasty, thoroughly entertained by what she saw, went and told Serek about it. And once Serek knew, it was only natural that Pharaoh—the one sustaining Serek's existence—would come to know as well. Rasty vehemently denied having planned any of it, but to my eye she'd engineered the whole thing so they'd each find out. For all her quiet reserve, she was unexpectedly mischievous at heart.
And so things between the two of them had become very, very strange.
"…I'll go when the time is right."