Trapmaster (3)

I am not a person overflowing with a sense of duty. I prefer cold, hard cash over honor any day. In my previous life, I held up a scale to everyone who approached me. After my parents disappeared, relatives wearing the mask of family swarmed in, pulling every dirty trick imaginable to squeeze money out of my younger self and my even younger sister. Teachers and peers who looked down on us simply because we had no parents forced me to develop that habit—to protect myself and my sister. I meticulously weighed whether someone intended to harm me or benefit me, adding or removing weights on the scale until it balanced. The only people I never measured like that were Mint, one other close friend, and my sister. That's the kind of person I am.

After being reincarnated through some twisted collaboration between a psychopath and a being suspected of being a god, my own safety and peace became even more important. That's why, as I've said until I'm sick of it, I want to quit being a Saintess candidate. The biggest reasons are that being a Saintess candidate has made me a target for a cult and put me at risk of assassination for some rotten old man's political schemes. But my own personality is a big part of it too. I'm a materialistic person who only feels satisfied when I get something in return for what I give. I'm a petty scoundrel who cares only about the safety of myself and those around me rather than devoting myself to people whose names and faces I don't even know.

...And yet.

I am clearly that kind of person, so why... am I so angry right now?

The adventurers who regained their senses through my holy law and those who were brought back from the brink of death shower me with praise. The mercenaries who signed contracts with the adventurer party and handle public security offer me their thanks. They all say the same thing in unison: that the Saintess candidate has come to Minoris.

Normally, the moment the words "Saintess candidate" left their mouths, I would've immediately packed my bags and run. I might have headed straight to the Savior Empire, my original destination. Or, after Mint's fierce opposition, I might have given up on the Savior Empire and changed my goal to another country.

But my feet won't move. I can't tear my eyes away from the corpses.

These are innocent deaths. Unjust deaths. Premeditated murders that flowed exactly according to someone's plan.

I am furious.

Why am I so angry? Because I know the clear culprit, and any decent person would be angry in this situation? Or because I've grown even slightly attached to this area over the past few months? All those reasons feel both right and wrong at the same time.

What is certain is that I've remembered something. I've remembered that I was never the kind of person who turned a blind eye when something unpleasant happened right in front of me.

The Trap Master tasted humiliation and disgrace. And he tasted it so thoroughly that his jaw nearly broke from it. A connection he had believed severed for over four hundred years had stubbornly survived and was now held in his own hands.

The Alchemy Hero Eric. The man who had driven him to abandon his original name and position to become the Apostle of Chaos known as the Trap Master. He had betrayed the lord he once served and the subordinates under his command. Four hundred years later, after deceiving the Prophet and the Clown while hiding his true purpose to reach this place, that damned hero from four centuries ago had anticipated even this visit and prepared countermeasures.

He was interfering with him even from beyond the grave.

"Damn it! Where is the key?!"

Just as the Trap Master lost his reason and screamed—

"You mean this one?"

A beautiful voice that seemed to tickle his ear came from above. A beautiful girl with golden hair, ruby eyes, and emerald eyes was looking down at the Trap Master from the artificial cliff created during the excavation. Two figures followed behind her.

"Captain Trevor! You will need to explain this tragedy very thoroughly."

"Th-this is necromancy! This place was supposed to have its seal released through proper procedures, yet you offered life force as a sacrifice to forcibly tear it open... Captain Trevor. Have you lost your mind?!"

"Kuh..."

The Trap Master realized it. That golden-haired girl was the person the Alchemy Hero Eric had arranged to stop him. At the same time, laughter bubbled up from within him.

"Kuhahahahaha!!!! Erriiiic!!!!!! So no matter how much of a hero you were, at your core you're still a pathetic human! Senility must have finally caught up with you in your old age! You thought something like that girl could stop me?!"

The Trap Master knew that girl. Wasn't she the insignificant Saintess candidate that the Prophet and the Clown had strictly warned him never to touch first? What a foolish girl. Coming here personally was practically a declaration that she would intervene in the Chaos Sect's affairs. If she had stayed quiet, she could have prolonged her life for at least a fleeting moment. He didn't know how the hero from four hundred years ago knew about her, but to come seeking death at the request of a senile old man...

"Levia Leviathan!!!!! You child bearing a false surname that doesn't suit your station! Do you truly believe you can stop me!!!!"

Levia simply stared coldly at the cackling Trap Master and whispered softly.

"Begin, Skadi."

The Trap Master's highly developed ears picked up that small whisper without issue. And he was shocked. Because a name he knew had come out.

"Who the hell are you talk—urk!"

The Trap Master's words were cut short. A blade that approached without a sound had pierced through his throat. In the ear of the skin he wore—the one named Trevor—he heard the voice of the Grim Reaper.

"So this is where you were hiding."

"How are you here?! You were definitely supposed to have lost your sense of self and become a slave—gahk..!"

Skadi drew a new dagger and stabbed it into the Trap Master's throat.

"Yes, I was. Thanks to you, you damn Doppelganger."

"Don't... call me by that name!!!!"

With the Trap Master's shout, a powerful energy burst forth and pushed Skadi away. Levia spread her holy power to block the surge, then spoke to Skadi in a surprised voice.

"You know him?"

"Yes. He was a close aide to the Demon King we fought four hundred years ago."

"Doppelganger?! A real Doppelganger? The kind that can transform into the exact same appearance...? No, more importantly, Levia. Who is this dark elf?!"

Mint interrogated Levia about the approaching Skadi. Skadi, though a bit late, did the same. It was only now because Levia hadn't summoned her until now due to some kind of suspicion(?).

"You allow this thieving cat to stay by your side, yet why am I not permitted?"

"Who are you calling a thieving cat!"

Watching the two, Levia decided to ignore them. Answering would definitely lead to a troublesome situation. Besides, now was the time to focus on the enemy before her eyes.

"Focus. It's coming."

The moment Levia finished speaking, pitch-black energy surged toward them.

The holy barrier I deployed is being constricted by the black energy. The moment I faced that power, which possessed the complete opposite color of holy power, I immediately understood. That power is magi.

I had heard it was an incredibly powerful and dangerous force. Unlike neutral mana, it had a different kind of compatibility with holy power. If holy power and mana complemented each other and created synergy, then magi devoured mana to increase its own size. That's why ordinary living beings who carry mana in their bodies suffer abnormalities upon contact with magi—their bodies mutate or their minds become corrupted.

Only the race called demons can contain magi within themselves and wield it freely. The Trap Master spewing that viscous magi from over there was clearly one of those demons. I could feel it just from his overwhelming presence. He was on a completely different level from the Clown's puppets. Did that mean the Clown's main body was on par with this thing? Or perhaps even stronger. Or maybe weaker.

"The key! Hand over the key! If you don't...!"

"Here you go."

Whether because of the energy he had furiously released after having his throat pierced by Skadi, the skin of the one called Captain Trevor had become tattered rags. I casually tossed the key I had obtained from the dungeon toward the Trap Master, who had now become some wriggling black mass.

"Levia...?"

"Lady Levia?"

"Master?"

My party members looked at me with confusion at my sudden action.

"What... are you scheming? Levia Leviathan?"

"I'll give you that. So tell me. What did you say about my surname?"

He had said it was a false surname that didn't suit my station. Those words meant he knew about my real parents. I had never particularly wanted to know, nor had I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠planned to find out, but since he had thrown out this bait in such an unexpected place, I was curious.

"Ha? You want to negotiate? Foolish girl. Negotiations are only conducted between parties of equal standing. What you just did was offer tribute and beg."

The Trap Master mocked me to his heart's content, then created a barrier of magi to prevent us from approaching. He grabbed the key and ran toward the massive tower behind him.

"Master, why on earth did you hand the key to the purification device over to that Doppelganger?! If that opens, the unpurified magi will...!"

Skadi rebuked me in an unusually serious tone. Her demeanor was not that of the perverted Skadi who always made suspicious and lewd comments and actions toward me, but rather that of someone who had once been a member of a hero's party. It seemed Skadi had not properly received the true name of that building from the Alchemy Hero.

When I read the letter Eric left behind, I was so dumbfounded. That building was not simply a device for purifying magi.

Rumble...!!

Whether because the Trap Master had finally inserted the key and done something, vibrations began to emanate from the purification device.

"Calm down, Skadi. I simply did as the Alchemy Hero instructed."

"What? What do you mean by that?"

I hadn't given my party members the full details of the letter the Alchemy Hero Eric had left behind. I had only told them that Eric had somehow learned of future events ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and left a letter, and that we needed to stop the Chaos Sect who were targeting the 'thing' before our eyes.

But now it was necessary to explain in more detail. Above all, if no one else, Skadi—who had once been the Alchemy Hero Eric's comrade—had the right to know the truth.

"Listen carefully, Skadi. The true name of that 'thing' is not 'purification device.'"

"Eric definitely called it a purification device. What do you mean it's not?"

"That is... a 'Gravekeeper.'"

That's right. The official name of the purification device was 'Gravekeeper.' Purifying magi and converting the power generated in the process to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠create dungeons were merely additional functions. Its most important function was to guard a tomb.

"A Gravekeeper that hides the tomb and prevents anyone from approaching it."

"Whose... tomb is it?"

"The Alchemy Hero Eric's."