Hell's Group Assignment (4)

The hundreds of cadets gathered at Georged Hall still formed an impressive number, even after being divided into teams. It was fewer than during the entrance exam, but cramming them all into one spot would overload the gates installed there. Unlike the warp gates scattered across the continent, these were small-scale ones meant only for use within Arsen. That's why, for this training, teams would enter the gates one by one.

The dungeons we'd be tackling were completely random—no one at Arsen knew where we'd end up. All we knew for sure was that we'd be dropped into one of the mock dungeons Arsen had prepared.

In the original story, you could choose your dungeon, but that was just a game mechanic.

"Then, teams that are ready, proceed one by one."

Right now, all the first-years were huddled together, entering in order under the assistant instructors' directions.

"They really won't tell us where we're going?"

"Who knows... seems like it? Totally random, I guess."

"What if we end up somewhere weird?"

With dozens or hundreds of cadets to manage, they'd pulled in a matching number of assistants, just like during the entrance exam. The similar setup was giving most of the entering cadets a sense of déjà vu. They all looked anxious. Urban areas or snowy fields might be fine, but if we got swamps that sucked you in or volcanoes, a lot of them would end up bloody. Volcanic zones were avoided even by hunters because of the powerful magic beasts that lurked there.

Unable to predict which of the five dungeons they'd land in, they had every reason to be on edge.

My situation was a bit different, though. Thanks to the system, I could see exactly where we'd go. Player privilege.

Originally, you'd clear it by reaching the lowest level of the underground mall and taking down the boss guarding it. But this time, there was an extra clear condition.

...The source of Demonic Energy.

The keyword "Demonic Energy" that popped up when Rian joined during that last-minute event was back. If it was being emphasized this much, there was no guarantee this dungeon matched the one from the original story that I remembered.

Of course, since we were tackling a "recorded dungeon" and not a real one, no one would die. Getting hit by traps, magic beasts, or the boss monster inside wouldn't actually harm your body. No safety issues there.

Just like during the entrance exam, if the watch detected excessive damage, it'd automatically recall you. The exception was fights between cadets. Cadets weren't part of the recorded content. If we started brawling, the damage would hit for real—but we'd get busted by the professors and forcibly recalled on the spot.

That said, if the professors sensed Demonic Energy in a mock dungeon, they'd shut it down and investigate immediately—

'...Already?'

I glanced at Biern Professor. He was lounging in his chair, chatting casually with the other faculty. My Sense wasn't reacting, so he hadn't made any real moves yet. Which meant this incident wasn't his doing.

The main quest objective ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠demanded destroying the source of Demonic Energy, so whatever was emitting it was probably holed up somewhere in the dungeon, not moving. High chance it was the lowest level of the underground mall where the original boss waited—or right next to it.

But teams were already entering through the gates. Some would end up in the same Underground Town Everd as us. One of them might even reach the source before I did.

That was a problem, but something else bugged me more. The entity emitting the Demonic Energy—the "source" mentioned in the quest.

Demonic Energy doesn't occur naturally. It spreads like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a contagion through living hosts. Because it's a substance derived from "blood." By lore, it originated with the now-extinct "demons," and only their blood heirs, the "demonkin," still lurked in the shadows across the continent.

Where there's Demonic Energy, there's a demonkin source. That's why the Hunter Association dispatches high-rank hunters to any detected site.

...In other words.

To sum up: Beyond that gate the first-years passed through, in the depths of the underground mall, a demonkin was very likely hiding.

The easiest way to root out a demonkin lurking in the dungeon? Hand it off to Arsen's faculty.

'But even if I told them now, they wouldn't believe me.'

Claiming Demonic Energy in that dungeon? They'd ignore it—and I might provoke villains like Biern Professor embedded in Arsen. Circumstances aside, the demonkin was stationary somewhere in the dungeon. If it moved and spread Demonic Energy, faculty would intervene immediately. But that could let it escape or take cadets hostage.

Second-best option: Pretend to clear the dungeon, head to the lowest level, chase off or—trusting our party's firepower—take down the demonkin.

But we weren't fully prepped yet, and facing a demonkin carried real weight.

"...What're you thinking about so hard by yourself?"

Someone tapped my shoulder. I turned to see Iri standing there.

"What's up?"

"Well... all the other teams are going in, so... when do we?"

Behind Iri's shoulder, Georged Hall was half-empty. The line of teams had dwindled to a handful. Since ready teams went first, being this late meant our party wasn't set.

Iri wasn't alone—Kazuha and Edel looked like they were thinking the same. Both seemed itching to speak but unsure where to start.

"...When we going in?"

Only one approached without hiding her feelings.

"Look, everyone's gone. Why are we short one person? We'll end up going just us at this rate—what do you know?"

Rian von Hildegaard. He'd dumped his role on me, stepping back like you handle it. He acted like he was top dog here, but there was actually a senior: third-year Edel Di Bison.

Edel started to say something but hesitated, lips parting and closing several times.

Seizing the moment, Rian pushed forward, face set like he'd use this excuse to drag me down.

"Illeionhart, you're the leader, right? Where's the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠last one? You tried contacting them?"

"They'll be here soon."

"'Soon'? How many people ghost after saying that? First group project, huh? Oh, right, first-year."

I kept my cool, but the others didn't. Iri bit her lip; Kazuha straight-up glared at Rian.

But this was under professors' watch. Arguing now would dock points before we even started. A few assistants were already eyeing us, waiting for my reaction.

"No. They'll make time, even if they have to carve it out. Senior."

"On what basis?"

"Among the people I know, they're the one who values their honor most. Once they said they'd come, they'll make it happen, no matter what."

"Ha, what. And this guy's leading."

Rian scoffed and turned away, face hardening into the thug look Kyle had mentioned.

Blatantly uncooperative, but what could I do? He was a teammate. A senior, no less. One wrong word, and we'd lose points for disrespect; exclude him and go solo, and it'd be "poor ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠teamwork." Group projects were societal evil for a reason.

"Do whatever. Handle it yourself."

Rian backed off, looking done. Iri and Kazuha's faces finally relaxed.

"...What a weirdo."

"He's a senior, Kazuha. Show respect."

"Y-Yes..."

I checked the watching assistants. Good—they hadn't caught Kazuha's words.

Rian called me leader, but technically, I was just "team head"—not gunning for leader role. In this party, my position was closer to "supporter" than sniper. No need to say it; he'd just latch on.

I got the others' worries. Every team had entered Georged Hall; we were the last ones left. The final team had just gone, leaving us alone.

"Team X, not ready yet?"

"Not yet, sir."

"We'll give you five more minutes. After that, enter the dungeon or forfeit."

"Understood. We'll enter. No forfeits."

"Then hurry up."

With the last warning from an assistant, the stares intensified. Delay more, and we'd get dinged for unpreparedness. Even Rian, who'd wandered off, was heading back, looking ready to grab my collar—but with assistants everywhere, he couldn't.

Instead, he tilted his head smugly and unleashed a tirade.

"Who the hell did you recruit that we're this—"

I got what he wanted to say. But if it was the Rebecca I knew, she'd show.

As Rian opened his mouth again, I whipped around on instinct. A long shadow stretched through the open door.

"You're here."

Click. Click.

The crisp, elegant footsteps echoed aristocratically. Afternoon sun hid her face, but a vivid green badge gleamed at her chest.

"...Sorry I'm late. Team X, Rebecca von Anastasia Grander."

Rian's mouth snapped shut. His face froze like he'd seen a ghost.

Rebecca glanced at him, then strode straight to me. No excess in her speech or bearing. The Esperands were noble too, drilled in this. I'd gotten earfuls from Dian Esperand myself.

True nobles showed it in actions, not words. Authority wasn't self-proclaimed or begged for—it emanated naturally.

Today, I felt her teachings in my bones.

"Looking forward to working with you."

Rebecca before me was living proof.