There lurked a man of countless mysteries within the Empire. His name was Tatsuya Kondou, an otherworlder whose knowledge of the Imperial capital was unparalleled. He was, in every sense, the darkness within the heart of the Empire. His short black hair, bangs falling softly into his eyes, softened his otherwise tense and calculating presence.
At first glance, he appeared to be a young man in his early twenties, unassuming in appearance. Yet beneath the surface, his heart was as cold as steel. The eyes on his expressionless face glimmered with sharp insight, piercing through illusions and pretense alike. That was expected. Tatsuya Kondou, First Lieutenant Kondou, did not age like ordinary men—he had seen too much, endured too much, and survived where most would perish.
In the Imperial capital, otherworlders were not rare. The Empire had a policy of gathering and protecting them, bringing them from across all corners of the world. That policy had saved Kondou, as it had saved countless others. This world was rich with magic, and that magic had ensured his survival.
Over seventy years ago…
Tatsuya had once given his life in a suicide mission against an enemy naval strike fleet. At the time, he believed it to be the only path forward. He had watched comrades die with valor, and their sacrifice became a memory he carried, a fire within him. To honor them, he remained at the rank of First Lieutenant, preserving his duty and his history.
When he launched himself into death, engulfed by blinding light and scorching heat, fate had intervened. He awoke not among corpses but in another world. The Emperor himself had saved him, plucking him from death's grasp. Fortune, rare and decisive, had smiled upon him that day.
He appeared in a secluded garden, accessible only to the Emperor and his closest advisors. The Emperor, calm and composed, regarded him.
"Interesting. Fate twists in curious ways," the Emperor had murmured. Those were the last words Kondou remembered before his consciousness faded.
When he awoke, his body was flawless—untouched by the fire or destruction that should have claimed him. In return for this life, Kondou had pledged everything to the Emperor. The power he had gained crossing worlds, surviving death itself, was dedicated entirely to service. He lived not for himself, not for fame, but for the shadowy work required to protect Eterna.
He remained unseen, a specter in the darkness, in the Intelligence Headquarters that lurked beneath the capital.
The shadow of the Empire.
The collector of secrets.
A man with countless names—this was First Lieutenant Kondou, head of the Imperial Intelligence Agency. None of the corps commanders dared challenge him, for they had never glimpsed the full measure of his abilities.
...…
...
Master Gadra had sent Shinji and his team to conquer the Dungeon. Naturally, the Imperial Intelligence Agency was fully informed.
First Lieutenant Kondou's response had been brief, almost dismissive. "Ah, thank you." Nothing more. The informants, long accustomed to this, bowed and departed. Kondou did not share his thoughts freely; he did not need to.
The report detailed the otherworlders engaged in combat-type work. Many had gathered in the Empire over the decades. Less than ten percent had no awakened Unique Skills, living quiet lives in the capital. More than ten percent had skills honed for battle. Hundreds had joined the army corps best suited to their abilities, while the rest were assigned specialized civilian roles according to their talents.
The intelligence revealed a disturbing pattern. Certain otherworlders—highly skilled, trained for combat, and positioned strategically—had potential for dangerous independence. While they served the Empire, some could act beyond its control if their loyalty faltered. Kondou's mind calculated all variables.
Each detail, each anomaly, was meticulously analyzed. His insight was surgical, terrifyingly precise. He considered every eventuality, even before the report had finished.
He had to ensure the Empire's stability. Every otherworlder under observation would be scrutinized. Every hint of disobedience, every subtle anomaly, would be caught.
And if any attempted betrayal…
"When that time comes," Kondou whispered, his voice low and merciless, "do not expect a trial. Dance for the Empire. Your lives are already in the palm of my hand."
In the darkness of the Imperial capital, his eyes glimmered like cold steel, reflecting a mind that had long learned to calculate, manipulate, and dominate from the shadows. There was no mercy. There was only control.
The Empire would endure. And Kondou would see to it.
A one-eyed man sat in a lavish chair behind a polished mahogany desk. The office was decorated with velvet drapes and expensive carpets, the kind only commanders of the Empire's elite could afford.
This man was Calgurio, commander of the Armored Corps, the Empire's most formidable military force. A thin man in his forties, he wore an eyepatch over his left eye and carried himself with arrogance born from merit, not bloodline.
On his desk lay several magic crystals, each of astonishing purity and brilliance. Magic crystals were usually raw magical energy—valuable, but inconsistent. Refining them into magic stones required time, skill, and effort. Natural magic stones were rarer, coming only from extremely powerful monsters.
But these crystals?
They were flawless. Uniform. Perfect.
Calgurio lifted one carefully, letting the sharp blue light dance across his uncovered eye. His heart tightened from the thrill.
He reluctantly set it down and grabbed the accompanying research report. The findings were incredible—one crystal of this purity could be refined into a hundred Empire-grade magic stones, or used as raw energy with no refinement at all.
Even more shocking…
All the crystals were identical in quality.
Impossible… unless they came from a single species of powerful monsters, and in large numbers.
The report's conclusion was clear:
"The source of these crystals must be secured."
And the location was already known.
The Dungeon.
Deep inside the domain of King Atem of Eterna.
Calgurio slammed the report down.
"Damn that old man Gadra! Sneaking around like that… keeping this treasure to himself!"
He had bribed researchers to keep him updated, and this report was the reward. Gadra had brought a huge batch of crystals recently—likely harvested from a hidden nest of monsters inside Atem's labyrinth.
A place Calgurio believed should belong to the Armored Corps.
Not Gadra. Not the Mixed Corps.
Him.
But that wasn't what irritated him most.
His noble "friends"—always scheming—had visited him with smug smiles, claiming Gadra had returned from the labyrinth with more than just crystals. He had brought back treasures.
Calgurio had purchased several of these swords. They were masterpieces—pure magisteel, flawless forging, superior even to the works of Dwarven masters.
Weapons of a kingdom ruled by a true king.
Weapons forged in Atem's Eterna.
And the nobles pretended to know nothing of
their real value.
Cowards.
Liars.
Still… Calgurio bought the swords. Three of them.
One went directly to his technical division for analysis.
And then… he noticed the hole.
A strange, carved slot in the blade—too precise to be decorative. It bothered him constantly, like a riddle he could not solve.
A few days later, the answer arrived.
The director of the Technology Division personally appeared.
"I will explain the results," the director said, pushing up his glasses as he opened his binder.
The findings shocked Calgurio to his core.
"That hole," the director said, "is an energy-regulating channel. This is not merely a sword. It is a magic trigger."
Calgurio's eye widened.
"A… what?"
"It absorbs magical energy and converts it into offensive magic. A soldier with no magical ability could suddenly cast powerful spells with this weapon."
He ran his fingers along the desk.
A weapon disguised as a sword… but actually a magic cannon.
"Atem… that king," Calgurio muttered, "he's far more dangerous than he looks."
The director nodded.
"This weapon was found in the labyrinth. The design is sophisticated, but its true purpose appears experimental. When we inserted a magic stone, the weapon's rank increased by one grade and produced stronger reactions we couldn't fully identify."
Calgurio smirked.
"So Atem is using the adventurers who explore his labyrinth as live testers. Gathering combat data. Having people die again and again inside his dungeon, only to revive and continue."
The director took out a sealed box.
Inside was a Resurrection Bracelet—one of the items Gadra brought back.
"We analyzed this," the director said. "If the rumors are true, those who wear it cannot die inside the labyrinth. If such technology exists…"
Calgurio leaned forward, hungry with ambition.
"…then military training would be revolutionized."
"Exactly," the director smiled. "If the Armored Corps could seize that labyrinth—"
"It would secure our dominance," Calgurio finished.
"And the glory would be mine."
He stood from his chair, laughing quietly.
"Atem… Demon Lord of Eterna or whatever title he likes… he may possess charisma and overwhelming power, but the Great Eastern Empire will not sit quietly while he grows."
The director raised a brow.
"Will you wage war against him?"
Calgurio waved a hand dismissively.
"Picking a fight with Atem without preparation would be idiocy. But the path of our conquest takes us through his territory anyway. And the labyrinth? It is too valuable to ignore."
His smile sharpened.
"We will take it. We will take everything."
The director chuckled.
"It seems Gadra has lost his edge."
Calgurio snorted.
"That old man let greed cloud his mind. He saw crystals but ignored the real prize—Atem's treasures and weapons."
He paused, tapping the hilt of the sword on his desk.
Weapons whose rank changes.
Weapons that evolve.
Weapons built with technology the Empire has never seen.
"Gadra is outdated," Calgurio declared. "This is the age of science and magic combined. And I will lead the Armored Corps into that future."
He imagined conquering Atem's dungeon.
Crushing the monsters inside.
Securing unlimited crystals.
Taking Atem's weapons for himself.
Slaying the Storm Dragon and claiming eternal glory.
His ambition soared.
"At the next Imperial conference," Calgurio said with absolute certainty,
"I will propose the march."
The director bowed deeply.
"Then the Empire shall rise once more."
Calgurio's smile widened.
"Oh… it will. Under my command."
His hands tightened.
His ambition sharpened.
His hunger awakened.
And thus, Calgurio set in motion a plan that would drag the Empire into the shadow of a king far more dangerous than he realized.