Prepping the Clear (6)
"Guess whoever made this place was a total loser. Like, who actually falls for traps this pathetic? Just 'cause you're a monkey doesn't mean everyone else is one too, hm~?"
Lucy Aln hopped lightly over the trap as she said it, but Luka couldn't have disagreed more.
The faint, murky afterecho of mana lingering in the corridor was anything but sloppy.
Who falls for such a trap? Most people, my lady. Most people.
I myself was very nearly caught by it had Lady Aln not spoken up — so what of ordinary adventurers? Had a trap like that existed in a public dungeon, the casualties would have been numerous.
Luka kept such thoughts to himself. Ever since he'd stepped with Lucy into the hidden reaches of the academy's old building, moments like this had piled up beyond counting.
Navigating a pitch-black maze without a single light, finding the way forward without hesitation.
Seeing through every trap that sprang up along the way.
And when monsters appeared, swinging her mace and cracking their skulls open before they could even attack — as though she'd been expecting them. She looked less like a human being than a kind of prophet.
Having watched Lucy clear the Academy Dungeon, Luka had a rough sense of her capabilities, but watching through a screen and experiencing it firsthand were entirely different things.
And so Luka gasped in admiration every time Lucy displayed her prowess — and every time, he got scolded by Lucy and shot a pitiful look by Cal.
The former he could weather, having expected it. The latter was another matter.
Cal's gaze, which seemed to say you're actually amazed by this?, felt like it was whispering, 'You really have no eye for talent, do you? Truly.'
For Luka, who took pride in his craftsmanship, that look of pity was unbearable — so in the end he chose to marvel internally while pretending on the outside that he'd gotten used to it.
This is simply unfair. Aren't Lady Aln and her escort knight the strange ones here? Anyone would be astonished by this!
Go tell this story to the honor-obsessed nobility.
They'd come drooling after the lady, and upon hearing her tales of valor, they'd sing her praises regardless of her past.
These are people who believe conquering dungeons is both the duty of nobility and their honor.
How difficult a dungeon did you clear? How many dungeons? What treasures did you claim within? What death-defying ordeals did you survive? These are the proofs of a noble, they say.
The kind who'd declare, 'Even my own eldest son — if he's never cleared a dungeon, he gets called a squandering fool and forfeits his title!'
Naturally, those very people, swimming in dungeon-clearing experience, would praise Lady Aln's feats until their mouths wore dry.
So why — WHY — must I receive a look that says I'm overreacting for being astonished by this? I cannot comprehend it!
Luka writhed in his quiet indignation, but no one in this place would sympathize.
Those so accustomed to the light that was Lucy Aln would only call him a whiner for shouting that the sun was burning him.
"Oh, we're done already? I bet the dummy who built this thought it was hard. Meanwhile the reality is a casual stroll route a tiny little girl could clear laughing and chattering~"
Fortunately for Luka, his window for feeling wronged was a short one.
It had taken only two hours for the hidden dungeon in the academy's old building to reveal its end.
A place lined with countless branching paths and brimming with malicious traps, where a single mistake would condemn you to wander forever — and the time it took to reach its end was a mere two hours.
"How could anyone see this and not be astonished."
Checking his pocket watch, Luka let out an involuntary bitter laugh.
"Ha. Seriously. How long do you plan on staying a screeching monkey? Is looking through human eyes really that hard for you?"
"Please understand, my lady. Common sense simply calcifies, and one fails to escape from it."
Listening to the master-and-servant comedy routine, Luka ground his teeth in mute frustration. Lucy was one thing, but he decided he would challenge Cal to a spar later.
<...How strange. Why does this feel so familiar?>
Throughout the entire delve into the old building's hidden dungeon, Grandpa kept muttering things like this. The dungeon's structure, hidden within the old building, was apparently far too familiar to him.
<Miss. You may not believe me, but among my old comrades, there was one who loved building mazes like this.>
I knew exactly who Grandpa was talking about.
One of those who stood on the front lines when the evil gods broke free of their seals in the past and tried to turn the world into hell.
The great archmage whose hands shaped most of the magic systems that exist to this day.
The man whose sudden, evaporation-like disappearance spawned urban legends that he might still be alive somewhere.
<The bizarre taste on display here can only be explained as his handiwork.>
Grandpa's suspicion was spot-on. The creator of this maze, impossible to even enter without the stone tablet, was the great archmage Erginus — once Grandpa's own comrade.
'Is that so?'
I knew this already, but I didn't tell Grandpa the truth.
If I told him everything, I'd have to explain the whole story behind it. And that was not a story Grandpa should hear.
I don't want to watch Grandpa clutch the back of his neck and keel over. Not that there might be a neck left to clutch, given he's a mace spirit now.
And besides, even without my explaining, Grandpa would figure it out eventually anyway — no reason to wear my mouth out.
<He was connected to this academy? Why?>
I ignored Grandpa's puzzlement and strode briskly forward.
Normally, the hidden dungeon in the academy's old building is a maze that cannot be passed without the tablet that reveals the path. Ignore where the tablet points, and before you know it, you're right back at the entrance.
But for this maze in particular, the devs had been a little sloppy. The path the tablet showed was locked to a single fixed route.
Sure, that route was obnoxiously convoluted and hard to memorize — but that's no problem for a Hardcore Veteran.
If memorizing is the efficient play, then memorizing is what a Hardcore Veteran does!
Those hours I'd once grinded out amid a torrent of curses had, even now — after eons had passed and the world itself had changed — repaid me in full.
Two hours, give or take.
A bit slow, what with paying attention to the two following behind me.
Well. Still, at this pace we'd make it back before dawn.
With that thought, I grabbed the door handle.
No rest was needed.
We'd only taken a two-hour stroll. What rest?
"An intruder?"
The moment I pushed open the thick iron door with ease, a voice rang out.
One who had died, and after eons beyond counting, lost all flesh and organs.
Lost his reason.
Lost his memories.
And even as his very soul wore thin and tattered, still remembered — or rather, still believed he remembered — his one and only purpose.
The voice of such a one.
"No. You cannot be intruders."
<That voice!>
Seated upon a throne of rough-hewn stone, staring quietly at us, the figure rose, pressing down on his own knee bones.
"...My lady. Fall back. That thing is dangerous."
Cal drew his sword and barred my path before the words had even finished.
"Professor Cal is right. She is not someone the young lady can oppose in her current state."
Luka drew a dagger from inside his coat.
It would be no surprise for Cal to overreact, but Luka was different.
For a man who'd happily throw me forward against any ordinary threat, there was only one reason for him to stand in front of me protectively.
Fighting that thing would gain me nothing.
The moment I stepped before that skeleton, I'd be dog meat on the spot.
Both of their judgments were correct.
I still couldn't beat him.
Maybe in another six months or so, but not now.
It's not as if I don't know that.
How could I not? I've visited this place well over several thousand times, easily.
And yet the reason I could come here so brazenly is simple: I had no need to defeat that skeleton.
Because this place, before it is a dungeon, is a place of trials.
"The problem was how sloppy the dungeon monsters were. We let our guard down."
"This is no time for excuses. This is the time to think of how we might deal with that."
Two warriors of considerable skill. Assessing the gap between themselves and the enemy, they were quickly hashing out strategy.
The skeleton on his throne paid the two of them no mind whatsoever.
He looked only at me. At me, and me alone.
With black eye sockets, empty since long ago, staring so intently it felt as though they would suck me in.
"O beloved of god."
<...Hm?! No. That's not it. That's not him. That thing is merely imitating him... Ah. AH!>
Then the thing addressed me — with dialogue I had never once heard in the game.
"State your name."
'I'm Lucy Aln.'
"Lucy Aln. A crazy skeleton with a screw loose♡"
"Lucy Aln. My thanks for the proud introduction, and I shall introduce myself in turn. This knight's name is Garad. One who once stood among the ranks of the Hero."
<PUAHAHA! Erginus! This lunatic was a blockhead to the very end!>
The moment the skeleton finished his introduction, Grandpa erupted in hysterical laughter and vulgar curses.
It wasn't particularly strange.
That skeleton's true identity was a homunculus crafted by the great archmage Erginus in remembrance of his comrade.
Just as the Mesugaki Skill had said — a psychotic skeleton who believes himself a hero and carries every comical trait of one.
From Grandpa's perspective, it must feel like watching his friend's cringe-worthy black history, pickled and put on display.
"...Garad?"
"The Hero's remains, you say? No. Impossible. It cannot be."
Oh, damn it. The sheer gulf between Grandpa and the two idiots beside me is making me want to laugh too.
One side wound tight with tension, the other side losing it because he's too busy cracking up!
Calm down. Stay calm, Lucy. If I burst out laughing here, I'm just a crazy bitch.
"What business brings you to this place."
'I want the shield you carry, obviously~'
"I've come to collect a shield too good for a bonkers pile of bones like you♡"
"I see. Well, I suppose there'd be no other reason."
<PUHAHAHA!>
As the skeleton rattled his head, Grandpa's laughter grew even louder.
Ugh, this is so chaotic.
"As one beloved of god, I would gladly simply give it to you. Alas, I have no such authority."
'Then what?'
"I know you're happy to finally have someone to chatter with after so long, but could you spare a thought for the person wasting her time on a broken-brained skeleton?"
"...Ahh. My apologies."
<KUHEK. KAHAHAHA! Even mimicking a man of perfect courtesy, he crumbles before a young lady!>
Grandpa! Please, for the love of everything, rein it in!
"I shall come directly to the point. You must pass the trial I set before you."
Even a total scrub-tier trial demands full focus when it's trial time, you know!