The dungeon on the outskirts of Cygnil drew crowds of adventurers. Its lower floors offered the perfect difficulty for rookies to cut their teeth, while those who delved as deep as the middle floors could earn a comfortable living, making it a worthy challenge for even mid-tier veterans. It was, for these reasons, a highly popular destination for adventurers of all stripes.
And where adventurers gathered, so too did the merchants who sought their coin. There were always voices offering to buy materials harvested from the depths or sales pitches hawking various consumables. Under normal circumstances, the commercial space near the entrance would be a bustling hive of activity.
But things were different now.
Anyone resembling a merchant had vanished, leaving the commercial space deserted. Adventurers were still present in large numbers, but they carried themselves with an even more solemn air than usual. Every one of them kept a sharp, wary gaze fixed on the dungeon entrance.
The object of their vigilance was the Sticky Silver Species—invaders from an outer world. Reports of their appearance had begun surfacing across the continent a short while ago, and warnings had been issued through every branch of the Adventurer’s Guild to remain on high alert.
To the adventurers active in Cygnil, the threat of the Sticky Silver Species had long been someone else’s problem. They had heard that some branches were overwhelmed by the silver offensive and had suffered considerable losses, but because there had been no attacks near Cygnil, it all felt distant. They believed that the regions driven into a corner had been saved by the magic tools provided by the Guild Headquarters, and that the situation would settle down eventually. Everyone assumed the danger would simply pass them by.
That complacency had been their undoing. It was not the Sticky Silver Species themselves, but the remnants of a cult who had degraded themselves into becoming the vanguard of the invaders that occupied the dungeon. They had appeared suddenly from within the depths. The Cygnil Adventurer’s Guild believed that they had likely been hiding there from the very beginning.
Taken by surprise by these unexpected assassins, many adventurer parties were wiped out. However, not everyone had fallen. A few survivors managed to escape the dungeon with their lives, and the attack was discovered only after they reported the situation to the Guild.
Fully aware of how dangerous these otherworldly invaders were, the Guild had immediately blockaded the dungeon. They requested the loan of purification magic tools from Headquarters and ordered the adventurers to keep a close watch on the invaders’ movements. That was where the situation stood.
"So, Dolga. What’s the status?"
Inside a command tent pitched a short distance from the dungeon, a man spoke. Though his features were mature, he was still quite young—hardly more than a boy. His name was Rei—Reidulc Dravan, the second son of the family that ruled the Cygnil region.
The man he addressed was middle-aged. A shady grin played on Dolga’s lips as he answered.
"Well, there aren't any problems for now. We’re having no trouble repelling the Sticky Silver Species that crawl out sporadically. At first, there was a moment where it looked like someone might get parasitized, but since those magic tools arrived, the cleaning has been quick and thorough."
Rei returned a wry smile at Dolga’s amused tone.
"Cleaning... no, a purification tool. Tort really has outdone himself."
Hearing that name, the two girls waiting behind Rei—Mil and Sally—joined the conversation.
"It really is groundbreaking, isn't it? It would be useful even without the Sticky Silver Species around."
"It’s hard to believe that’s supposed to be 'Clean.' If I keep using that magic tool, I wonder if I’ll eventually be able to cast a spell like that myself?"
The girls' evaluation of the device was glowing, but even that was a modest take. After all, that magic tool was one of the few means capable of destroying the nearly immortal Sticky Silver Species. Adventurers who had seen its effects firsthand whispered that it was a miracle from the gods. In fact, many were already referring to it as a Divine Tool.
The reason these four—including Rei and Dolga—weren't as shocked as the others was because they had already heard about the creator from Madrus, the Cygnil Branch Manager. They knew Tort. Rei, Mil, and Sally had been his party members, and Dolga had been his master in the art of the dagger. Their time together hadn't been long, but it had been enough to sense Tort's extraordinary talent. The boy they once thought would become someone great had risen further and faster than expected... but hearing the news still left them with a strange sense of conviction. After all, it was Tort.
The four of them chatted about their mutual acquaintance for a brief moment, and the tense atmosphere relaxed slightly.
However, they could not afford to forget that the situation did not allow for optimism. The enemy’s motives remained a mystery, and their defenses were unexpectedly firm. Several volunteers had attempted to infiltrate the dungeon, but since none had returned, the situation inside remained a total enigma.
"Do we have no choice but to wait and see?"
"I suppose so. Madrus has headed to Headquarters, so he’ll likely pull some kind of support. Tort seems to be over there too, so maybe he’ll solve the problem with some incredible method again."
"Hahaha, you’re probably right."
"However..."
Dolga cast his eyes down, his voice trailing off. Rei found the rare hesitation suspicious and prompted him to continue.
"What is it?"
"No... it’s just a gut feeling. But the enemy is being far too quiet for my liking. There hasn't even been a skirmish for the past several hours. The adventurers are saying they’ve been cowed by the power of the magic tools, but to me, it feels more like the calm before the storm."
There was no hard evidence, which was why Dolga had been reluctant to speak. However, this was the intuition of a man who had survived countless brushes with death as an intelligence agent for a noble house. It would be dangerous to dismiss it.
That said, there was little Rei could do. Even if the invaders were plotting something, he couldn't take countermeasures without knowing their goal. What was the right move? How could he protect the city? As he wandered through a maze of thought, a voice snapped him back to reality.
"Rei, it's getting noisy outside."
"What?"
Alerted by Mil’s words, Rei listened intently. Indeed, a commotion was growing.
"Sir! Report! The enemy is attacking!"
A guard burst into the tent an instant later, his face pale with urgency.