Eliphis — the kingdom's hottest rising figure at present.
Born in a remote frontier village, he had climbed from the bottom through extraordinary talent and relentless effort, eventually founding the renowned Light Eagle Mercenary Company. His story was the definition of inspiration made real.
He was a master swordsman, highly accomplished in magic, and one of the kingdom's finest military minds. His loyalty and filial devotion were equally celebrated — unwavering support for the royal family, and after achieving success, he had never forgotten his parents, bringing them from their humble village to live out their days in the capital. Those two qualities alone earned him respect that went deep.
But what set him apart from every other talented, accomplished, devoted person in the kingdom was something harder to name.
His charisma.
The captains of the Light Eagle Company were all formidable individuals who could have built independent reputations without any difficulty. They followed Eliphis with absolute devotion purely because of what he was. Anyone who spent time near him would naturally find themselves feeling trust, warmth, and admiration — positive emotions that arose without prompting, reinforced by conduct and treatment of others that gave them every reason to stay. In many cases, a single small favor from him was enough to produce a fiercely loyal subordinate for life.
His enemies experienced the opposite. Overwhelming despair. A creeping sense of futility that was difficult to explain and nearly impossible to resist. More often than not, opposing forces lost half their fighting spirit before the first blow was exchanged.
The legend of the Light Eagle Company had been built on a perfect commander, exceptional captains, and elite mercenaries — in that exact order.
"A plague struck my hometown years ago. The commander saved both me and my family. From that day forward, I swore that outside of my family, he would be the most important person in my life.
Later, my family died in an accident. The commander arranged their funeral personally. My life belongs to him now. I'll follow him for as long as I live." — Aston
The stories of the other captains and vice-captains ran along similar lines. Hardship. Rescue by Eliphis. The loss of the people who had mattered most. And then — complete devotion.
Eliphis was also known for treating his people well and for an eye for talent that bordered on the uncanny. He seemed to find exceptional individuals at precisely the right moment, as though he had seen it coming.
The most recent addition over the past few months had been Elsa.
Powerful. Innocent. Completely compliant with orders.
Those three qualities together made her something close to a walking ideal. Sali, who had come as part of the arrangement, was also quite capable — Eliphis paid careful attention to both of them. Within a few months, her obedience had become something he took entirely for granted, the way one takes for granted the reliable behavior of something that has never once surprised you.
And now, that same considerate commander was listening with patient attention as Elsa explained the matter of her greatsword and its repair.
"So, Guts," Sali said carefully, "you want to visit another region of the Sein Dungeon to find a blacksmith who can repair your weapon — rather than participating in today's expedition."
As he spoke, he kept glancing at Eliphis.
The commander's expression hadn't shifted.
But Sali understood how much Eliphis valued this operation. He had skipped the princess's ball that evening because of it. The strategically sound choice would have been to wait several more days — let more adventurers map Wolnir's behavior patterns and weaknesses, then advance with that accumulated intelligence. Most of Eliphis's previous campaigns had followed exactly that model.
This time, upon receiving word, he had decided to move immediately.
That alone said everything about the urgency.
Sali had never seen the commander like this before. Not once.
Was something inside the dungeon drawing him specifically?
Which was why Elsa's rejection of the proposal hit him twice as hard.
First: Elsa was making her own decision.
Second: she was refusing Eliphis.
The same Elsa who had once held him in such deep regard.
"Guts, are you sure you don't want to reconsider?" Sali tried, angling toward persuasion. "If it's only a weapon—"
A trace of conflict crossed Elsa's face.
She looked at the greatsword, then at the smiling Eliphis.
After a long moment, she said quietly:
"Could we wait a few more days…?"
"Guts — you've grown."
Eliphis's voice carried unmistakable warmth, the genuine pleasure of someone who had watched a person come into themselves.
"The expedition can't be delayed. But since you don't wish to come, I won't force you. Go and do what you believe is right."
"Commander, I…"
Elsa rose to her feet. The words didn't follow.
Eliphis reached out and rested a hand gently on her shoulder.
"Don't feel guilty. Everyone in the Light Eagle Company is family. Family doesn't hold things like this against each other."
He stood, crossed to the door, and pushed it open.
Before leaving:
"I'll arrange for two people to escort you. It isn't safe for a young woman to travel alone."
As Sali watched him go, something shifted behind his eyes.
He frowned and turned to Elsa.
"The commander is disappointed. This isn't the time to be stubborn."
"I just want to repair it as soon as possible…"
Sali glanced at the greatsword, irritation crossing his face.
"Since the commander has agreed, I won't press it further. But Elsa — from now on, we work twice as hard. We owe him that much."
"Mm…"
Strange.
Would Sali normally say something like that?
Elsa didn't think deeply about it.
After he left, she picked up her greatsword and walked out without waiting for the escorts Eliphis had offered to send.
Because she already knew who she was going to find.
Among the people she had met recently, there was one who understood the dungeon better than any mercenary.
Tami.
While Elsa went looking for Tami, Eliphis assembled the Light Eagle Company's most elite warriors into a twenty-person strike force.
Led by Eliphis himself. Three captains. Four vice-captains. The company's finest.
"Damn it, I wanted to go with the commander! Why am I stuck guarding the base?!" Aston complained bitterly from the sidelines.
His vice-captain looked the team over and exhaled.
"With a lineup like this — who in the kingdom compares? The commander's taking this one."
"Still, I think twenty people is cutting it a bit close…"
"Can't help it. Those are the dungeon's rules. Even the gods might have to respect them."
Every eye in the gathering fixed on Eliphis with the particular intensity of people who would follow him into anything.
Even the prospect of High Lord Wolnir produced no fear.
Only zeal.
Eliphis raised his rapier and pointed it at the portal of Sein Dungeon.
"Move out."
Not long after, Eliphis — clad in his White Eagle armor — and his mercenaries arrived before the Catacombs bonfire.
"Seeing it in person really is something different."
He studied the bonfire with genuine interest, then lit it.
The mercenaries who had never touched a bonfire before witnessed the visions rising from the flames for the first time.
The familiar sequence played out across their faces. Shock. Confusion. Fear.
Eliphis remained perfectly still throughout.
The smile never left his face. His eyes only grew more focused. Sein Dungeon had already produced countless miracles — and what he was looking for had to be somewhere inside.
He found, quietly, that he rather liked this place.
The monsters along the way posed no meaningful threat. The Assault Team captain drove through enemies with a massive warhammer. The Archery Team captain put down targets before they closed the distance. The Cavalry Team captain conjured a blazing spirit horse and carved through hordes with his lance.
Eliphis walked at the front throughout all of it.
The breeze shifted his silver hair.
Behind him, his people cleared everything without needing to be asked.
From start to finish, he never drew his sword.
Nothing they encountered warranted it.
[Maneater Mildred has invaded!]
The infamous man-eating woman materialized directly in Eliphis's path and raised her cleaver.
Shing.
A single flash of light.
Eliphis sheathed his sword and walked past Mildred's frozen body without slowing.
Now that they understood her endless invasion mechanic, all that was needed was a technique analogous to pressure-point sealing — rendering her unable to move or trigger her own death.
The march continued.
Carthus Warriors, Grave Warden Imps, Undead Mages — nothing survived. It felt less like dungeon exploration and more like an organized culling. With intelligence gathered by every explorer who had come before them, the traps and labyrinths that had claimed so many others barely registered as obstacles.
A perfect party, in every meaningful sense.
Clack… clack… clack…
A gigantic Skeleton Amalgamation blocked the path ahead — countless skulls grinding and rattling together as it advanced.
Without waiting for orders, the mercenaries immediately began searching their supplies for Holy Light scrolls.
"Wait — why are there only six left?"
The quartermaster stared at his inventory with genuine confusion.
"We packed at least ten before we left. I'm certain of it."
"You forgot them again, didn't you? When are you going to stop—"
"There's no need to blame him."
Eliphis stepped forward.
"I'll take care of it."
He faced the Amalgamation. He didn't draw his sword. He didn't raise a staff.
He extended one hand.
The creature was animated by concentrated resentment — a mass of negative emotion given physical form. If those emotions could be dispersed, the structure holding it together would dissolve.
Light bloomed from his palm.
In an instant, the resentment surrounding the Amalgamation dissipated. The bones collapsed to the ground in a heap.
This was his unique talent, and everyone in the kingdom had heard of it.
Eliphis generated positive emotions — a passive, pervasive effect that could cause even the most hardened individuals to feel warmth and optimism. On the living, it was charisma. On creatures sustained by grief and hatred, it was extinction.
If that wasn't angelic, the word had no meaning.
"Magnificent! As expected of the commander!"
"The commander is basically an angel given form!"
The mercenaries erupted. Eliphis responded warmly, holding morale at its peak. If nothing unexpected occurred, this force would advance through the Catacombs without meaningful resistance.
[Unbreakable Patches has invaded!]
"Another one looking for trouble — let's put him down for the commander!"
"Hold on — why does that name sound familiar?"
The bald man with the shield and spear finished materializing before Eliphis. The commander recognized him immediately as the mysterious phantom who had recently become a topic of considerable discussion.
He wanted, suddenly, to test something.
Did his ability work on phantoms?
He extended his hand toward Patches.
Inside the Lord's Chamber, Wade watched the group move through the dungeon and arrived at a simple conclusion:
"They're strong."
Setting Sword Saint Gapar aside, this mercenary team was the most powerful force that had entered Sein Dungeon. Wade had held a deep interest in Eliphis's reputation for some time — by word alone, the man had already become a kind of legend. But reputation and reality were different things.
Did his actual strength match his fame?
Wade wanted to know.
The data would help him recalibrate his understanding of this world's power ceiling.
"I'll use High Lord Wolnir to benchmark his performance against monsters."
"And I'll need a humanoid opponent to measure his combat ceiling against people."
"The Soul of Cinder, maybe?"
He considered it for a moment. Then shook his head.
Something about Eliphis gave him a vague sense of déjà vu he couldn't quite place. So he reached instead for a more fitting opponent — a humanoid dark spirit of his own design.
The Black Swordsman.
The Berserker Armor. The Dragon Slayer Sword.
That would produce a thorough data set.
"Should I send him in now?"
The temptation was real.
He talked himself out of it. Better to let the mercenaries conserve their full strength before facing Wolnir. Sein Dungeon was built around monsters, and monster combat data was the priority.
As for the Black Swordsman —
He would position him on the retreat route. After the mercenaries' inevitable failure against Wolnir.
Purely because monster data took precedence, naturally.
Definitely not because he wanted to watch the ever-composed and dignified Eliphis get put through the floor by a sword the size of a door panel immediately after suffering a crushing defeat to an undead overlord.
Definitely not that.
After all, Sein Dungeon had always operated on one unwritten rule:
Want to maintain a cool image inside these walls?
Impossible.
Even the Sword Saint had become comic relief.