Licht’s thoughts drifted: Something’s off, but I can’t quite put my finger on what.
It was nighttime in Quel’thalas—the elven homeland—where no moon watched over the land. Only a dark-blue sky full of stars stretched above. Under normal circumstances, one might think that these stars, shining so vividly, would steal the scene. But tonight, the true spectacle lay below, in the Argyrian capital.
Like every great city, the capital was dotted with countless points of light, each flame or lantern granting it a gentle, pulsing glow. On an ordinary night, it would have looked like a carpet of scattered gems. But not this time. Tonight, lights were shifting toward the southern corner of the city, converging in frenzied masses.
The sound and sight of them moving was enough to grab one’s full attention, and yet what truly captured Licht’s attention was further ahead, further north: at the city’s edge, a riot of color was erupting—magical spells and attacks unleashed on gigantic beasts that had broken through the capital’s nonexistent defenses.
Unlike the Umbryan capital, the Argyrian capital had no ancestral magic to act as a protective barrier, so when monsters arrived, they just walked right into the urban corner of the domain.
Though fewer in number than the monsters Licht had faced in the Umbryan capital, these creatures were no less large and savage. Among them, he could spot a few Primes—the strongest versions of their kind. Worse still, deep in the city, a massive white serpent-like creature raged. Licht knew it from descriptions: it was the same beast Arianna had fought in the Umbryan capital.
It lashed out with gravity-based attacks, flickering in and out, changing its size to strike again and again, leaving the northeastern quarter of the city in ruin. Watching this destruction unfold from the deck of the flying fortress, Licht could not help but notice the man standing beside him, observing the chaos with unfiltered glee.
It would have been a stretch to call him a man—he looked more like a boy. Especially with how madly he was cheering at the scene below. “Wooooooo! Let’s goooooooo!!” he hollered, clearly rooting for the monsters, not the Argyrans desperately defending their home.
“Goblin, you’re enjoying this too much,” came a more composed voice.
It belonged to Dungeon Master 13, commonly called Bortz. Licht found the name fitting, given the black battlesuit he wore. Upon hearing “battlesuit,” one might picture heavy armor, but they’d be wrong. What he actually wore was a thin, form-fitting material that showed off his impressive build. As always the ethereal chains bound to him glowed like embers, shifting restlessly, making him look even more imposing.
“I am,” Goblin admitted, but then caught the look Bortz gave him. “Too much?” he asked.
“Too much,” Bortz and the girl known as Blondie nodded in unison.
“Alright, I’ll dial it down,” Goblin agreed.
“So long as you do,” Bortz replied, “it’ll be a relief for all of us.”
For a moment, Goblin seemed about to accept the reprimand without protest. Then he stopped and asked, “Wait, why are we talking like I’m some kind of big liability?”
“Because you are,” Bortz said calmly. “I’ve heard about your total crash out against the Argyrian envoys.”
“That was… You know what?” Goblin huffed. “I did great, and I don’t need to justify myself to someone who literally has insanity as their main attribute.”
Bortz sighed. “You know what? Whatever. Just don’t mess this up.”
“You’ve got nothing to worry about, brother,” Goblin replied smoothly. To prove his readiness, he shifted form, becoming female and sprouting a pair of large wings. “Let’s do this.”
Under different circumstances, Licht might have been surprised. But Arianna had briefed him on how Goblin’s skills worked. Through [Assimilation], Goblin could absorb monsters and later manifest their traits. The effectiveness of these transformations depended on factors like skill level and the wielder’s constitution. [Ability Assimilation] further let Goblin adjust his own body to circumvent restrictions—such as the reduced effectiveness of female monster traits on a male wielder. Goblin’s transitions allowed him to wield these traits far more efficiently than a rigid form would. After all, Assimilation was a skill common among creatures with flexible natures, like hermaphroditic beings such as broodlords or the common fungal monstrosities, or genderless beings like most angelic beings.
Bortz looked like he had more to say but merely nodded. “Ma’am left this task to us. Let’s handle it as she expects,” he reminded them. “Remember, we’re after the clan leaders and only the clan leaders. You can take out anyone who gets in your way, but don’t go out of your way to slaughter insignificant Lunor elves you stumble upon.”
The warning was clearly aimed at Goblin, who groaned in annoyance. “Drop it. I get it already. I’ll behave.”
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Later, Licht stood over the severed head of what he was positive to be an Clan leader of the Argyrian. The execution had been swift—Licht had taken advantage of the elf’s distraction as he fought the invading monsters to land a swift finishing blow. Elves were MP-centric beings, so they were vulnerable to all sorts of close-quarters physical attacks, and that happened to be Licht’s field of expertise. A single strike from behind—that’s all it took.
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There was nothing honorable about the deed, not that Licht cared much for honor. After all, while the persona he had chosen to embody—an upstanding adventurer—required him to display heroic behavior, he wouldn’t hesitate to do the opposite if it benefited him or his fellow Dungeon Masters.
But here’s the thing: he hadn’t needed to take on this mission at all. Arianna had given him a choice—get involved or simply walk away and let others handle it. He could have avoided this entire predicament. Yet, at that crucial moment, despite the abruptness and questionable nature of her request, he’d chosen to stay. Something deep within him refused to back down.
Now, standing there, he regretted that decision, worried that the system might grant him the “Elf Slayer” title. Such a stigma would surely tarnish the image he’d worked so hard to cultivate. While “Kin Slayer” was easily the most reviled title in the eyes of the guild, adventurers who earned it could at least claim they had been fighting bandits, a justification that would undoubtedly garner some sympathy. After all, not only does everyone hate bandits, but bandit-hunting had been a sanctioned category of adventuring work for more than a century and a half thanks to the intervention of a certain adventurer queen.
But he couldn’t use that excuse—not convincingly, at least. Who would believe he’d stumbled upon a group of elven bandits?
With a heavy sigh, “I’ve chosen this,” Licht muttered under his breath. “Let’s just hope I don’t end up with that title.”
With renewed resolution, Licht continued his grim task. He targeted clan leaders specifically, or “Elders,” as Arianna called them, lurking as they were dealing with a monster before striking them down mercilessly once they lowered their guards.
The others were less subtle. Blondie soared openly overhead, shielded by magic, smiting Elders and monsters alike with light, wind and lightning. Bortz engaged them head-on with brutal, bestial strikes that left no recognizable remains. Goblin was the least discreet of all—when Licht finished off his third Elder and the Elder’s guards, he spotted Goblin drenched in blood, laughing maniacally with a voice that seemed to blend both his male and female forms at once as he literally devoured one of the Elders.
While Licht watched with a mix of unease and fascination, he suddenly felt a powerful surge of energy ripple through the air. Recognizing its significance, he climbed higher for a better view. In the distance, he saw the white serpent that had been rampaging now beginning to retreat, much as it had in the Umbryan capital. At that moment, Licht was struck by a realization—a solution to the nagging feeling that had been haunting him, an answer to a question he hadn't even realized he'd been asking himself.
He turned to confront Goblin, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw an elf levitating into view. The elf shouted something at Licht, something unintelligible—either his command of the Argyrian dialect was too limited, or his grasp of elven in general was too poor. Throughout their journey, he had relied entirely on Arianna to translate for him. But Licht understood from the elf's aggressive stance, aiming his staff at him, that he was recognized as an enemy. The magic circle was already forming when Licht noticed her; dodging the attack was his only recourse. Sidestepping a dozen meters to his left in a flash, Licht watched as the spot where he had just been standing was obliterated. As the elf readjusted her staff for a second strike, and before Licht could counter, a swift strike from Blondie—soaring nearby—struck the elf from the sky.
Looking up at her, Licht nodded in appreciation, and Blondie, somehow meeting his gaze despite her condition and visor, nodded back before returning to the fray.
“You’re distracted, my friend,” Goblin commented, landing near Licht, having finished devouring the poor Elder.
“I was,” Licht said, a note of accusation in his voice, “and it’s because I just realized something.”
“Oh? What might that be?” Goblin asked casually.
Licht pointed toward the breach the monsters had made in the capital's nonexistent walls. "I've always been impressed by Arianna's flawless predictions. Every time she sends us off, it seems as if fate itself guides the monster stampedes in our favor—first in the Umbryan capital, then the Aurian capital, and now here. I used to think these were coincidences, in the sense that the Argyrian Patriarch's actions and the stampede movements were unpredictable, the decisions of a maddened soul. But now I see clearly—it's no coincidence at all. It never was. She knows exactly where the stampedes will go, and she's been guiding us precisely because of that knowledge."
Smiling knowingly, Goblin asked, “And how do you think she managed that?”
Licht reconsidered his previous assumptions. "At first, I suspected Dungeon Master 09, but now I realize it can't just be that," he mused. He leveled a finger accusatorily at Goblin. "It’s right here in Quel’thalas, isn’t it? The authority that Dungeon Master 13 claimed to have restored to safety in Dungeon Master 00’s hands—[Authority Gathering]."
Goblin chuckled. “I made a bet with her about how long it would take you to figure that out. Seems I’m going to owe her a favor.”
“When—” Licht began, about to inquire about the timing of the authority's transfer to Dungeon Master 09, only to almost immediately realize the answer. Now that he knew the authority was here in Quel’thalas, the timing of its return was obvious. It had been brought back when Dungeon Master 13 and Dungeon Master 09 had left ahead of him and Arianna, instead of traveling with them as initially planned. As he pondered further, it also explained why Dungeon Master 00 had hurried them out the door so quickly when Dungeon Master 02 and he had just arrived in his domain. Dungeon Master 00 was in on the coup, there is just no way he wasn’t involved.
“Well,” said Goblin with a smile of relief, “it looks like I won’t have to convince you that we indeed brought the authority back to Dungeon Master 00 with the intent of securing it safely, as Bortz reported to Dungeon Master 07. But upon his return to the Voidborne Catacombs, let’s just say the plans changed a bit, if you can call it that.”
It was far more than a “bit” of a change in plan, Licht realized. The entire premise had been scrapped and replaced without his notice. “Why didn’t you guys at least—”
“Tell you?” Goblin cut in. “I don’t know, buddy. That was her idea. She had her reasons, which she told me, but I’m a terrible person for you to hear them from, so I won’t say anything. What I can tell you is that so far, her plan has been proceeding smoothly.”
“That mig—”
“I understand you were raised with different values,” Goblin said, “but I was raised to care about results. And right now, those results are pretty great, don’t you agree?” Goblin grinned widely, surveying the chaos around them. He then patted Licht on the lower back and suggested, “Let’s put that matter aside for now. The monsters are being slowly repelled. Let's kill as many of these bastards as we can before we make a retreat to the fortress.”