"Oh, that is excellent news."
"Yes. It was all thanks to being blessed by the wisdom of your guidance, Michio-sama."
"No, no, it was nothing."
I certainly hadn't put myself in a position to be showered with any actual "guidance," though.
"Michio-dono has been of great service," Duke Harz declared. "Naturally, I have been considering a fitting reward."
The Duke had spoken. The words of a sovereign are like sweat; once shed, they cannot be retracted.
"Ah... yes. Thank you."
If he was giving something away, I was taking it. Sincerity is measured in currency, not words, after all. I, for one, was a staunch member of the Commutative School of thought.
"Cassia and I have discussed granting Michio-dono the right to subjugate a labyrinth when a large-scale operation occurs," the Duke continued.
"The right to subjugate a labyrinth?"
What on earth was that? Was he granting me the privilege to buy a broken game or something?
"Are you aware of the phenomenon where defeating a labyrinth lowers the difficulty of those surrounding it?"
"Ah, yes."
I seemed to recall Sherry mentioning something like that. I hadn't really paid much attention at the time, but I decided to pretend I knew exactly what he was talking about.
"Defeating a labyrinth on the 50th Floor results in only a negligible drop in difficulty for the surrounding area," the Duke explained. "However, if you conquer a labyrinth that spans even higher floors, the difficulty of the surrounding ones drops exponentially. Large-scale subjugations that significantly lower the local difficulty occur several times a year."
"I see, I see."
"When that happens, the surrounding labyrinths become much easier to clear. Defeating such a labyrinth won’t earn you a title as the local lord, but it is ideal for training. Usually, those lands are incorporated into the territory of whoever defeated the initial large labyrinth that triggered the drop. Even so, it is the perfect opportunity for an explorer to step onto the 23rd, 34th, or 45th Floors for the first time."
The 23rd, 34th, and 45th Floors were the milestones where monster groups changed and the difficulty spiked. Normally, anyone fighting on the 22nd Floor would feel a healthy amount of hesitation before stepping onto the 23rd.
The only one who charged ahead regardless was Roxanne.
If the difficulty was artificially lowered because a nearby labyrinth had been cleared, it made progression much smoother. If you could fight there without issue, great. Even if you felt your level was slightly lacking, you could get used to the floor while the difficulty was low, making it easier to manage once things returned to normal.
So that was the "Labyrinth Conquest Hack." They really did put a lot of thought into these systems. As they say, where those above have policies, those below have countermeasures.
"I see. That makes sense."
"Information regarding which labyrinths have reached such a state almost never reaches the Adventurer Guild," the Duke added. "The Empire Liberation Society might catch wind of it, but in any case, it is difficult to obtain such information while it is still fresh unless you are a noble."
"Hmm."
Dirty. As expected of the nobility, truly dirty.
"Nobles also bear the obligation to defeat such labyrinths. It is the flip side of the coin."
I wasn't going to let his self-justification slide that easily. After all, he was currently trying to push that very "obligation" onto me. That hardly counted as a defense.
"Right."
"It really is the best form of training."
I suppose it would be, for the lower floors at least.
"Well, the lower floors are one thing, but is the 50th Floor—the final floor—also considered training?"
On the 23rd or 45th Floors, you could grind the boss battles repeatedly. It was good practice, and it didn't matter if multiple parties showed up. In contrast, once the boss of the final floor was defeated, it was over. The labyrinth itself would be subjugated and vanish. You only got one shot.
That didn't sound like training to me; it sounded like a crisis. If you wanted to practice, you'd be better off grinding the 50th Floor boss in a place like the Quratar Labyrinth, which extended well beyond fifty floors.
Maybe the 56th Floor boss battle would be useful since the enemies got a step stronger there, but things never went that smoothly. Apparently, there was no way to know exactly how many floors a labyrinth had until you actually subjugated it. If a labyrinth had appeared recently, you could guess it was around fifty floors, but that was it. If you happened to finish one off and it turned out to be the 56th Floor, the whole thing would be terribly inefficient.
Normally, people wouldn't risk it. It was much better to handle the 56th Floor boss in a labyrinth that was confirmed to go to fifty-seven or higher.
"Experience is everything," the Duke insisted. "If you defeat a labyrinth once in an easy setting, you can fight from then on without being intimidated by the task."
"Experience, huh?"
There might be some truth to that. Or it was just a load of nonsense he’d invented to justify the system. I wasn't sure. Still, it seemed to be a widely held belief among the nobility. Even if it wasn't as effective as he claimed, it wasn't something I could flatly deny.
"If Michio-dono is willing, I would certainly like to mediate a suitable labyrinth for you. Good experience will surely become your strength."
"But isn't the 50th Floor a matter of first-come, first-served? Would it really go that smoothly?"
After all, it was finished once someone won. You couldn't force someone not to defeat the boss, nor could you ban entry. If a party went in during the middle of the night, no one would know. Targeting a specific subjugation seemed impossible.
"Are you worried that another party might snatch the victory?"
"Well, the possibility exists."
"I won’t say it’s impossible, but the chances are low. We don't assign labyrinths that have already been cleared up to the 50th Floor to nobles for subjugation. Usually, we choose those where conquest has reached the forty-something floors or lower. Once a decision is made to subjugate one, the explorers at the entrance are instructed to stop disclosing when a new floor has been cleared. When nobles share their information, no outside party will ever manage to claim the subjugation."
Just as I thought—nobles are dirty. They even had the entrance explorers in their pockets.
Normally, the guide at the entrance would take you to the highest floor currently conquered because every successful party informed them of their progress. If you conquered a floor and moved to the next one but kept it a secret, your rivals would never be able to follow you.
On the first or second floors, a stray party might get ahead of you, but as the number of floors increased, that became impossible. Reaching the boss room first was ultimately down to luck, so as the number of attempts grew, the Law of Large Numbers would take over. It was unlikely for a random party that wasn't sharing information to consistently clear floor after floor at the top of the pack.
You could expect a party under a noble's command to clear at least one floor in the lead. Once that happened, every other party under that same noble’s banner could effectively "reroll their dice" for the next floor simultaneously. The victory was rigged from the start. Even if they weren't the fastest on one floor, being second or third repeatedly would still put them at the top of the total progress.
"I see."
"Subjugating labyrinths is a noble’s duty, after all."
"Right."
He didn't sound like he was just maintaining a public front; he seemed to genuinely believe it. To have it said so plainly... that because it was a noble's duty, it was only natural to manipulate the system. Even if a stray party lost out on valuable experience, it couldn't be helped.
The duty came first. It was unavoidable for the sake of the Empire. In truth, the Empire was locked in a constant struggle with the labyrinths. I knew what happened to regions swallowed by them—I'd seen the Akishima Labyrinth and the nearby ruins of Tachikawa. In a time of existential crisis, you couldn't afford to worry about minor details.
Maybe siding with the nobles was the logical choice. And gaining experience in a subjugation might actually be useful. You could argue the system existed precisely because it was useful.
Then again, maybe not. It didn't feel particularly helpful to me.
"Therefore, I wish to provide Michio-dono with the opportunity to gain that experience. I am not saying it must be a 50th Floor subjugation immediately. Whether it is the 23rd, 34th, or 45th Floors, if you judge the timing to be right, we shall provide the information. And eventually, I would like you to gain experience in a 50th Floor subjugation as well."
In other words, they were also trying to gauge my progress. If I asked to experience the 45th Floor, they’d know I was capable of reaching it. For floors other than the 50th, they could throw in as many parties as they wanted, so they were essentially giving away information for free.
If anything, while claiming to let me gain experience, they were getting me to help with a subjugation for nothing. Was this a "black company" or what? Only the final floor had a real cost since only one party could clear it. Even then, it didn't sound like nobles were exactly fighting over seats. He'd said it happened several times a year, after all.
"Hmm."
"No, that is not the only compensation," Cassia added, perhaps sensing my lukewarm reaction. "Please accept this as a provisional token of our gratitude for your hard work."
Well, I had no reason to refuse. And finding an excuse to turn it down would be difficult anyway. Once I had the strength to clear the 50th Floor, they’d find out eventually. I wondered if there was a catch. Would I be saddled with some impossible task once they knew my true strength?
With Duke Harz, it was certainly a possibility. I’d just have to hope Gosler and Cassia kept him in check. It would be fine. Probably.
"Well, when that time comes, I would be grateful."
"You will accept? Excellent. It is clear that Michio-dono will eventually make a name for himself. If we can say we lent a hand in that, it will uphold the honor of the Harz Ducal House."
Ah, right. Among the nobility, I was apparently a member of the Duke Harz faction. If the Duke could show he took good care of his people and provided them with opportunities, he’d be able to hold his head high among his peers.
I see.
Still, in my own party, I had someone who viewed this very Duke Harz as her father's killer. I wasn't sure how far she planned to take that, but if the day came and there was a real chance of winning, I had no intention of stopping her. It was a tragedy, but that was the nature of war.
For now, I’d keep persuading her to wait since there was no chance of victory. But if the situation changed, that was a different story. I couldn't oppose her forever. If I was too unreasonable, she might decide I was her enemy instead. Technically, I had been part of the operation. It wouldn't be strange for her hostility to shift toward me.
In a way, it was a blessing that she directed her hatred toward Duke Harz instead. For me, maintaining the status quo was the best option. I couldn't actively oppose her. Hopefully, time would eventually solve the problem.
"Separately from that, I have also considered a more direct reward."
"Yes?"
"For Rutina’s future, I thought equipment for a Mage’s use might be appropriate," Cassia suggested.
So, equipment for when Rutina finally became a Mage? It seemed she still didn't realize Rutina already held the job. Well, I hadn't even told Obaba-sama. There was no reason to go around broadcasting it.
"Ah..."
"Is something wrong?"
If Cassia was offering a reward, I had no reason to turn it down, but...
"Lately, all our equipment updates have been for Rutina. Since she only recently joined, it's unavoidable, but I'm concerned about the balance. If only Rutina is strengthened, it might affect the party's harmony."
The others might care, or they might not. Roxanne probably wouldn't. After all, she was the one constantly trying to push into higher floors with her current gear, so she could just keep working hard as she was. Or rather, she should probably work a little less hard. If I gave her better equipment, she’d be completely over-powered.
As for Sherry, her main path was strengthening her own gear with skill crystals, so she shouldn't be envious.
Miria and Vesta, however, were entitled to a complaint. Especially Vesta—she never got any equipment updates, yet she was a front-liner taking the brunt of the fighting while Roxanne dragged her further and further up. I really had to admire her. She had every right to complain. She should complain to Roxanne, honestly.
Miria's situation wasn't much better, though I had given her the Estoc of Rigidity. But for someone like Vesta, who wasn't an evasion specialist but rather the type to stand her ground, advancing to higher floors without any armor upgrades had to be nerve-wracking.
Yeah, constantly updating only Rutina's gear felt like a mistake.
"I see. That is a fair point," Cassia agreed.
"You may choose any one item you like from the castle's armory," the Duke declared.
"The armory?"
"Most of our active equipment has been loaned out to our knights, so don't expect anything world-changing. Think of it as leftovers, and feel free to accept. Still, these are items collected by the Harz Ducal House. There should be something of use to your party."
A chance to scrounge through the armory was a generous offer. I wasn't sure what was in there, but he was right—if it were truly useful, it would be in the hands of a knight right now.
These weren't peaceful times. The Harz Ducal House was fighting the labyrinths every day. They couldn't afford to let good gear gather dust. Does that mean everything in the armory was either an unwanted piece or something they wouldn't mind losing? I was sure the truly precious items were stored securely elsewhere. Why not give me one of those?
Well, that was probably asking too much.
"I gratefully accept."
Since I didn't have a choice, I'd take what I could get. It was certainly less valuable than the mirror rights, but money wasn't an issue right now anyway. Platinum coins were already cluttering my Item Box. I probably wouldn't have to worry about food for the rest of my life.
A rich man once said that while the poor struggle with small change, the wealthy struggle with millions, and I'd thought he was a jerk. But in a sense, he was right. I wouldn't struggle to eat, but I might struggle to find things that money couldn't buy. To get gear from the Empire Liberation Society, for example, you had to trade rare items like a Substitution Misanga. Since chances to obtain equipment were so rare, I should take what I could. At the very least, I could trade it later.
"Good. Then let's be swift about it. Gosler will guide you to the armory now. Take whatever you like."
"Right now?"
Restless as always. The man was incredibly impatient. No wonder Gosler looked so tired.
"If we wait, someone might suspect we've moved the best items out of the armory," the Duke added.
"I wouldn't think that."
"You might not, Michio-dono, but there's no telling what others might say."
"I see."
So the noble court was a den of vipers. Slander and belittling were par for the course. He wanted to make sure his rivals had no ammunition against him. Duke Harz seemed to have a difficult life.
Personally, I already assumed the best stuff had been moved. For a place like this, they probably had at least two armories—one for show and one for the real treasures. This was a castle; there was plenty of space for a hidden room. And I couldn't imagine they lacked the funds to build one. Security might be an issue, but if it were connected via a secret path from the Duke's bedroom, it wouldn't be much trouble.
If Rutina ever got her revenge, I should probably mention that possibility to her.
Leaving the Duke's office, I followed Gosler. After a significant walk, we reached a large room.
"This is the armory."
"Oh."
It was quite far from the executive office. If the Duke was as impatient as he seemed, he wouldn't put his office on the opposite side of the castle from his bedroom. Just as I thought, the real treasury must be much closer to his private quarters.
Well, it didn't matter. I'd just have to scavenge this place thoroughly.
The room was spacious but looked sparse. Most of the truly useful gear was likely being used by the Ducal Knight Order. You could argue the order was a decent employer if they provided equipment loans.
As I suspected, the leftovers weren't exactly spectacular. The only things that caught my eye were a few sets of plate armor. They looked higher in quality than Vesta's current Steel Plate Mail.
But what about armor? Strengthening it didn't really make me feel like we'd gotten stronger. I didn't think a slight reduction in damage taken actually changed the face of battle. Unless you could cut damage by eighty or ninety percent, you wouldn't notice much difference, and that would require a massive upgrade.
Even if we cut damage in half, the impact would be subtle. In battle, taking double the expected damage happened all the time. If that happened, the benefit of the armor upgrade would be instantly negated.
Armor upgrades were necessary in the long run, but you couldn't really feel the results in your bones. In that sense, armor was a bit "weak" as a reward. The flashy stuff was weapons. If we got a weapon that increased our clearing speed, we could advance much faster.
Then again, armor had the advantage of being less conspicuous. If the party got significantly stronger because of a gift from the Duke, it might affect the motivation of my newest member. Of course, I could just tell her I’d snatched it from him. It was all in the phrasing.
While thinking that I'd settle for the plate armor if there was nothing else, I kept looking.
Then I saw it.
In one corner, there was a massive pile of swords. And they were Orichalcum Swords.
What a haul. Why were there so many?
"So those caught your eye after all," Gosler noted.
"These are Orichalcum Swords, right?"
"You can tell? As expected."
"Why are there so many of them?"
I only knew they were Orichalcum because of my Appraisal skill, but anyone would be curious about a pile like that.
"They are incredibly useful, so we collect them whenever possible. Unfortunately, there are very few who can actually use them."
"I see."
Were two-handed swords that unpopular? I suppose using a shield was much safer. A shield provided a massive sense of security compared to trading blows with a monster while relying on a two-handed sword's recovery function. Most normal swords didn't even have that function anyway.
Then again, there was someone in my house who used two-handed swords in both hands and just brawled with monsters. And without any HP Absorption, at that. What even was "normal" anymore?
"As you know, Orichalcum Swords have a strange weight to them. Those who haven't trained specifically for them will just be swung around; they can't use them properly."
"Right."
I didn't know that at all. I'd never heard such a thing. Still, I could imagine them being too heavy to wield. Since Gosler was so helpful as to misunderstand, I decided to play along.
"Ah, wait. Come to think of it, we have a restricted one as well," Gosler suddenly remembered.
"Restricted?"
"An Orichalcum Sword modified so that a beginner can use it."
"I see?"
Apparently, that was a thing. My lack of knowledge was showing. So even if they were too heavy, you could use them if they were "restricted." Did that mean they were cut in half? Or made smaller? That would certainly make them lighter.
"The one kept separately over there is the restricted one," Gosler said, pointing to a sword on its own stand. "I'm not sure if it's all right for you to take that one. I don't know what his Excellency would think, but he did say you could take any two items, so I cannot refuse. However, I would be very grateful if you didn't choose that one."
I looked at it. It looked exactly like a regular Orichalcum Sword. It wasn't some tiny child's sword. Even my Appraisal skill just called it an "Orichalcum Sword." Was it really different? If my skill couldn't tell the difference, how could anyone?
"No, I wasn't planning on it."
"That is a relief."
"But if they got mixed together, wouldn't they be impossible to tell apart?"
"Not at all. The moment you give it to a beginner, you'd know."
What a primitive way to tell. So a restricted sword could be held by a beginner, while a normal one was too heavy. That meant a veteran wouldn't be able to tell the difference at all. What a nightmare for the professionals.
As a test, I gripped one of the standard Orichalcum Swords. I held it without any issue. It felt like a perfectly normal sword.
"Hmm."
"Oh! Truly impressive. You have clearly trained your body well."
"I see."
So that was it. I wasn't a normal adventurer. I probably had an auxiliary effect from my Hero job that let me use two-handed swords easily.
"A restricted sword would be useless to you," Gosler continued. "It was disrespectful of me to even worry about you taking it, Michio-dono."
He seemed incredibly relieved. Just how much did he not want me to take that one? Gosler really did have a hard life.
Just to be sure, I picked up the restricted sword too.
Yep. I couldn't tell the difference. Was it even real?