"Boss, why do you look so down?"
"I mean…" Maru's face was on the verge of breaking. "If you got the kind of reward the boss did, you'd be feeling the same way."
Terl scratched his head, muttering, "I really can't imagine what it'd look like for the boss to fight while holding that thing."
Dong, dong.
At that moment, the deep toll of the bell echoed through the air, signaling the closing time of the Dungeon.
For the adventurers, this single day had felt unusually long—like they had spent years inside. The endless swarms of grotesque monsters, the constant traps, the suffocating tension—it all drained them to the bone. Every minute had stretched like an eternity.
The thought of finally being able to leave and rest made everyone sigh in relief.
"I don't want to come back down here for at least a week," Stella muttered tiredly.
The Fire Priest puffed out his chest and shouted with burning zeal, "What nonsense! You're blessed by the Fire God himself—you should be coming down here every single day!"
Stella shot him a look that clearly said, are you an idiot?
Roger gently stroked the Poké Ball in his hand with a lovestruck grin, Perry clutched his scroll as if it were a lifeline, and the Knight stared at his cross in silence before finally deciding to keep it.
With the final chime of the bell, their figures began to blur.
Noise rushed into their ears—and when they opened their eyes again, they were standing outside. The sky was pitch-black, moonlight spilling cold and silver over the ancient city, its glow drowned by the flood of lanterns lighting up the bustling streets.
Near the portal, chaos reigned.
Adventurers were arguing fiercely with the Bedford family's guards.
"Why do you get to inspect our spoils? Not even the Count has that right!" one adventurer yelled.
The guard lifted a parchment and sneered. "New decree. The Bedford family has the right of first purchase on all ores from the Sein Dungeon. I don't care about your other loot, but ores must be handed over."
"I'd rather sell to another merchant than give it to you!"
"Heh." The guard chuckled darkly. "Go ahead and try. If you can find a single merchant in this city willing to buy from you, I'll get on my knees and apologize."
"What did you just say!?"
The adventurers exchanged uneasy glances. They'd only been inside the dungeon for a single day—how could so much have changed?
Just what was Count Philip doing?
Then the Bedford family's miners began emerging one by one. Five or six hundred had gone in… but fewer than a hundred came back. Still, those survivors all carried gains.
The guards stopped arguing with adventurers and turned to bark orders at the miners instead, demanding they surrender their haul immediately.
The air grew tense and heavy. Many chose to hurry back into the city, desperate to find out what was going on.
Stella frowned at the sight and muttered, "The Count never used to act like this. Why such a sudden change?"
Roger smirked, amusement glinting in his eyes as he watched the guards. "Power does strange things to people."
Leon patted Stella's shoulder. "Let's head to the Guild. Mr. Sid should know something."
This time, the guards didn't try to stop them. The group quickly made their way to the Guild, where the staff informed them Sid had been waiting.
They pushed open the conference room door. Sid turned around, arms wide and smiling like a gentleman. "Welcome back. The stars told me you would return with great harvests."
"We did gain a lot—we cleared the Dungeon," Leon said.
Sid's smile deepened, as though he had expected nothing less. With a wave of his hand, the instruments along the walls began to play soft music. Glasses of deep red wine floated gracefully into their hands. Sid raised his first. "Such a monumental achievement deserves to be celebrated. Well done, everyone!"
"Celebration can wait," Leon said, his brows furrowing. "Mr. Sid, please tell us—what exactly happened today? What's going on with the Count?"
Sid drained his wine and set the glass down, his tone turning casual. "What else could it be? Greed. They've let desire cloud their judgment and made reckless decisions."
"You may not know," Sid continued, "Count Philip returned from the royal capital just yesterday, bringing with him the King's orders and a fortune in treasures. As soon as he got back, he issued several new decrees. What you saw today was just the beginning."
There were three decrees:
1. Members of the Bedford family have priority entry into the Sein Dungeon. Others are forbidden to resist.
2. The Bedford family holds exclusive purchasing rights for ores from the dungeon. All city merchants have already been dealt with—none dare buy ore, meaning it can only be sold to the Bedfords.
3. A tax will be levied on adventurers entering the dungeon, collected monthly according to the number of entries. The amount is no small sum.
"Has Philip gone mad?" Stella burst out, furious enough to call the Count by name. "Does he not know what happens to lords who dare tax dungeon adventurers?"
"He knows," Sid replied evenly. "That's why he's made other preparations."
His voice grew more serious. "With the King's backing, he's temporarily borrowed a special mercenary corps that answers only to the crown. If my guess is correct, they'll arrive tomorrow."
The Holy Light Knight suddenly looked up, alarm flashing in his eyes. "You mean that mercenary corps?"
Sid nodded grimly. "Yes. The Light Eagle Corps."
(***)
Bedford Family Manor
"I don't understand. Father knows what he's doing is wrong, so why keep pushing forward?"
The long-absent third son, Sali, paced restlessly in his room, frustration tightening his features.
"At this rate, the adventurers will turn on him. Even with the Light Eagle Corps—sure, they might suppress them for a while, but still…"
He raked his silver hair with both hands, muttering,
"Why lock me up? Why won't he listen to a word I say? All I suggested was giving miners priority access—I never said anything about taxing them! Just one trip to the capital and he's completely changed!"
Ever since Count Philip had gone to the capital to deliver the potion and returned, he seemed like a different man. Once gentle and refined, he had become irritable, short-tempered, and prone to lashing out at everyone. When Sali tried to reason with him, he was immediately confined under guard.
Sali even wondered if his father had caught the King's strange illness. But when he secretly brought a priest to examine him, the Count was perfectly fine.
So what had happened to him?
Hero Elsa sat quietly nearby, hands folded neatly on her knees. She knew the best thing she could do while Sali fumed was to stay calm and observant.
It wasn't a curse. Philip wasn't possessed or replaced by a demon—if that were the case, Elsa would've already drawn her blade.
For now… she glanced sidelong at Sali. If he made a move to escape, she'd be ready to follow. Words weren't her strength, but she had more than enough muscle to help.
Just then, Sali turned toward her.
"Elsa, do you remember my theory?"
Elsa nodded silently. Sali continued:
"I've always wondered why the dungeon mutated the way it did. And yet, the new layout isn't chaotic—the traps, the monsters—they're all placed with purpose, like someone arranged them. It's as if the entire dungeon is being controlled."
"My teacher once told me this: the dungeon itself has a will."
"Just like the Hero's Holy Sword, the Elf Queen's Scepter, or the Dwarven King's Hammer—all of which developed consciousness over time—the dungeon too could be seen as an object that gave birth to awareness. A spirit managing everything inside."
"If it truly possesses awareness… if it learns what Father is doing…"
Sali clenched his fists tightly.
"Will the rampage from a hundred years ago repeat itself?"
He exhaled slowly.
"All I can do now is pray. Pray that the dungeon's awareness is still like that of a newborn—ignorant of the outside world. Pray that it never finds out. Pray it never awakens."
But the "dungeon awareness" he spoke of… had already taken notice of these troubles.
"Why's today's revenue lower than usual?"
Wade rewound the crystal ball's recording, his expression gradually darkening.