Interlude - Loot Distribution (2)

"This is impossible!"

The hero stared at Tellorian’s dice rolls with an utterly bewildered expression. He had rolled five twenty-sided dice, and every last one had come up higher than fifteen.

"If you’ll excuse me…"

"Hand over your dice."

"…"

Tellorian set aside the dice he had brought and cast the ones the hero offered. The adventurer mages watched with eyes wide open, not daring to blink.

"I seem to be blessed with luck."

"…"

"Shall I roll again?"

Twice.

Three times.

Four times.

No matter how many times they repeated the process, the results were absurdly high. He had used neither magic nor miracles. The numbers were simply good.

"How is this even possible?"

"I was born with good fortune."

"……"

"Since I bid on behalf of my party, I will be claiming my companions’ shares as well."

"These belong to me, the silver serpent, and Riankal."

Clatter!

He rolled the dice once more.

"These are for Olgoldugolro and the trolls."

"…"

"The rest of the spoils you may divide among yourselves."

The hero’s party initially wore deeply suspicious expressions, but eventually yielded. Once one reached the rank of heroic adventurer, one grew accustomed to the reality that the world contained many bizarre situations beyond common sense.

"Ancestral gods! Watch over these dice!"

"For the glory of House Harrington—!"

"High elves are superior even in luck!"

The leaders of each race cast the dice with bloodshot eyes fixed on the hellish equipment. Quality magical gear was exceedingly rare on the surface world, after all.

"Hero."

"…?"

When Tellorian approached, the hero was hanging his head in dejection. His companions were berating him for suggesting the dice distribution and thereby inviting disaster upon the party. At this rate he might even face impeachment from his position as leader.

"Take these."

The hero was visibly shocked. The armaments of an archdemon were not items one could obtain in the material realm. Even at the same Heroic grade, equipment once wielded by an archdemon existed on an entirely different level. With restoration procedures, they could even return to Legendary grade.

"Why…?"

"Furthermore, for you and your longtime comrades, should you bring the materials, I will perform the enchantments free of charge."

…

"If you require counsel, I will provide it anytime without compensation. When magic is needed, I will resolve it for only a modest labor fee."

…Every clause offered tremendous benefit. Yet the hero was no green adventurer who accepted goodwill at face value. Favors always carried a price—unless they came from family.

"What is the price?"

"Waiving the commission fee."

"That seems far too small."

"I happen to be in need of quick funds."

Even so, the hero stroked his sharp beard and sank into thought. He was trying to discern what Tellorian truly desired.

"Are you considering refusal?"

"Before that, I have a question."

The eyes with which the hero posed his question were gravely serious. The petty greed for spoils had vanished, replaced by the seasoned ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠insight forged through countless hellish battlefields.

"How much are you concealing?"

"?"

"Even the facts already known about you mark you as an extraordinary individual. Yet what is visible is merely the head of a sandworm; the true body lies buried deep beneath the sand. Just like the silver serpent’s real identity."

In reply, Tellorian silently placed a pipe between his lips. He revealed his confidence only through a faint, knowing smile.

"The Queenmaker Tellorian known to the continent is this sort of figure: a dangerous schemer who toppled the royal house of Essil, a genius mage who ascended to Magister at the age of fifty-four…"

Those facts alone were enough to make him a mage who drew the eyes of the entire continent. One could tell merely by observing the spies circling him in countless disguises.

"My wife claims that if you continue to grow at this pace, you will become a mage capable of reshaping the entire continent."

A promising new powerhouse. That was how the world viewed Queenmaker Tellorian.

"At first I thought the same. A talented young mage forming an alliance with a frontier lord to seize a mid-tier nation is entirely plausible."

But.

After meeting him in person, his thinking had changed.

"You have already altered the continent’s landscape. While the public focuses on the dynastic change in Essil, the transformations you truly wrought could not possibly have ended with a mere change of dynasty."

A hidden dragon.

A dragon that had deliberately lowered its stature.

"You lured the Hell King into a trap and slew a Hell Grand Marshal. Neither the Sun God nor the Sage Council has ever accomplished such a feat."

The hero’s brilliant eyes of insight pierced straight into the mage’s enigmatic gaze. He had met countless mages—including those who had ascended to Archmage—yet Tellorian was the first whose depths he could not measure at all.

"And yet the face the world knows is nothing more than ‘Queenmaker’?"

"…"

"Moreover, you deliberately downplay the achievement of slaying an archdemon? In the world of mages, even the tiniest accomplishment is inflated to build renown, is it not?"

All the mortals he had encountered until now had failed to understand Tellorian’s true nature. Part of it was the deliberate smokescreen, but the greater reason was that ordinary common sense could not comprehend him.

"This is how your attitude appears to me."

"…"

"You have reached a realm unbound by common sense. Yet revealing your full potential would only bring trouble, so you wear the mask of mediocrity."

However, the legendary Alberic was a man unbound by common sense. His life had been intimately entangled with beings beyond human reach.

"Such traits are seen in dragons who have taken human form or in Archmages who pursue magical truths that transcend mortality."

Therefore.

The true intent behind the proposal you extended is—

"Become my chess piece."

"…"

"That is the true meaning hidden within your goodwill."

The hero regarded the Lore Master with calm eyes. The Lore Master quietly asked in return.

"So, will you refuse my offer?"

"That depends on your true intentions."

The hero folded his arms as well.

"I will not condemn the desire to use others as chess pieces. After all, that seems to be one of your defining traits."

…Tellorian possessed a clear craving to control others. The ecstasy of moving people like pieces on a board to complete a desired structure was equal to the thrill of discovering a rare ancient tome in a dusty bookstore.

"Then you do not mind becoming a chess piece?"

Thus he became the hidden hand in every organization. At first everyone praised his wisdom, but in time they sensed the unnatural feeling that they had become puppets and began to distance themselves.

"Provided I am given the role I desire."

However.

The hero paid no heed to such unease.

"Just as you wish to be the puppeteer, I wish to be the protagonist of the world. I must shine brightest wherever I stand and claim only the finest things."

Adventurers were beings who craved the spotlight, and the hero was their king. Wanting to blaze like the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sun was only natural.

"If your puppet show still has a part written for me, I will gladly become your chess piece."

…

The Lore Master smiled.

The conversation was proceeding exactly as anticipated.

"Do you wish to continue adventuring?"

"!"

"The sixteen-year-old serf Alberic left his hometown alone and became an adventurer. He then enjoyed a golden age and rose as the legendary Alberic."

Alberic could have died to a goblin’s thrown rock or been betrayed by the wrong party member. The lich rising from its sarcophagus might have been stronger than expected. In truth, those outcomes had been far more likely.

Yet because Alberic had enjoyed his golden time, he had excluded every possibility of misfortune and reached the summit he desired. That was why he became the legendary Alberic.

"The golden time you enjoyed was long."

"…"

"But now it is drawing to a close."

However.

What was a hero who had reached the realm of legend supposed to do?

"Most lucky souls like you retire to the southern beaches and live out their remaining years in comfort."

But that was not a golden time. It was a life of growing a paunch while gazing at the sand from a luxurious seaside mansion.

"If you wish to descend into the deepest hell and ascend to the highest heavens, follow my guidance. Should you do so, the golden time you have enjoyed will be extended. I swear it as a Lore Master."

Pfft.

The hero chuckled.

"You really are a silver-tongued devil, Grey Sage."

"…"

"You dressed it up nicely, but the essence is ‘give up the villa party with beautiful women and suffer as my chess piece,’ isn’t it?"

Pfft.

The Grey Sage chuckled as well.

"So, will you refuse?"

"But if I turned down the chance to plunder hell and excavate the Abyss… that would make me no true adventurer. I will become your chess piece."

The hero extended his hand for a handshake.

"I look forward to working with you, Grey Sage."

"The matter is urgent, so we will skip the formalities. I will tell you where to begin the new adventure. First, deliver this letter I prepared to Runemaster Cainhazard, ruler of Runehold."

Tellorian drew a scroll from his robe and handed it over. It was as if he had predicted the entire flow of conversation and written it in advance.

"The letter states that with the Archdemon of Destruction defeated, an opportunity has arisen to restore Kazmaheim. Nevertheless, the Runemaster will likely remain skeptical about a restoration war for Kazmaheim…"

"But once you complete the tasks I outlined, the Runemaster will convene a grand assembly of the dwarf elders. At that moment, if you incite the dwarves by declaring it is time to reclaim their homeland…"

"Thus another adventure begins."

"It will certainly be a most entertaining one."

If no worthy opponents remained on the surface, they simply needed to head underground. The hero packed his travel bag with joy at the birth of a new journey.

"We will depart at once."

"I wish you luck."

The hero woke his sleeping companions and launched into an impassioned speech. The adventures they had shared until now had been enjoyable, but he promised the coming ones would be far more thrilling. His comrades told him to stop talking nonsense and just retire, yet in the end they could not overcome his appeal and followed after him.

"Now then."

The hero party set off down the road, and the remaining spoils were distributed appropriately. The key members each obtained a powerful magical item, while the soldiers received enough gold to change their lives.

"At last, it is time for us to divide our own rewards."

Olgoldugolro!

"Speak, O wise father."

"Your clan is excluded from the distribution."

"…Pardon?"

"When I consider the cost of the flame-resistance robes and potions I crafted for you, I am the one who should be receiving payment. Therefore, be grateful that the matter ends with simple exclusion."

…Olgoldugolro ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠glared at Tellorian with a sulky expression that resembled a teenage girl whose allowance had just been confiscated.

"Why does a monk covet material wealth?"

"The fruits of honest labor are…"

"If you are a practitioner, then behave like one and free yourself from secular desires! If you truly believe this is unfair, go learn the doctrines of the Goddess of Harmony and return to refute my argument!"

Next!

Lucifeles of Gehenna!

"I will count to five. Bid or be excluded."

"…"

"One. Two. Three. Four. Five… Automatically excluded. To willingly forfeit the spoils for the sake of your comrades! Truly a model holy knight."

Last!

Starlight Aeltanar!

The silver serpent shouted, infusing her voice with divine power. Her declaration carried absolute resolve not to be excluded from the distribution.

Tsk tsk.

Tellorian clicked his tongue.

"Why does a great divinity covet the weapons of lowly demons? Take only Balor’s heart."

"Then I shall bid on Balor’s heart myself."

…To ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠regain her divinity, Balor’s heart was an indispensable spoil. Thanks to this, the silver serpent abandoned her claim on the remaining items.

"The world has always been an unfair place, so do not be too disheartened. Devour the heart quickly so we may depart. There is much research awaiting us upon our return."

Gulp!

With that, the silver serpent swallowed Balor’s heart in a single bite. Thanks to it, she shed her fallen demigod state and returned to true divinity. A minor one, but a divinity nonetheless.