Chapter 390 – The Hunt Begins
Amputation of the body causes extreme pain.
It is not merely the pain delivered from nerve stimulation.
Permanent damage that cannot be healed is, for a living creature, no different from terror itself.
Rayshen was a born Mage.
Among them, when it came to biological research such as the magic potion called "Potion in Exchange for Lifespan", he displayed an obsession bordering on madness.
It would not be an exaggeration to say his very life was born to prove his hypotheses and abilities.
In the course of that, his humanity faded.
"..."
One of the countless human experiments engraved in memory, endured for seven years, surfaced in his mind.
Particularly, Rayshen excelled at driving the mind of his test subjects to the limit.
Verden stroked his little finger.
Skin and bone felt so vividly…
As he exhaled and calmed his insides, he gave a nod toward Heras.
The signal that Rayshen had been discovered.
Only then did Heras recognize the targets of the operation and gesture, sending one of the Society's Mages out of the VIP chamber.
Verden's signal would be conveyed to Cain and Adrian, waiting outside.
There will be no failure.
But, though certain, arrogance must be avoided.
For an unpredictable variable might leap forth at any moment, in any place.
Until Rayshen was shoved into the tightly woven spiderweb, and his life severed with their own hands, they could not allow this tingling tension to ease.
Verden did not so much as glance at Rayshen, nor at Rovellin.
He merely kept his place in silence, blending into the flow, his face hidden by a luxurious robe, biding time.
Before long, at last, the opening ceremony began.
Flash.
The magical devices installed on the ceiling illuminated the front of the theater.
Stillness and darkness.
Suddenly, flickering into existence, a small pipe organ of peculiar shape.
In that quiet atmosphere, a woman with dark green hair, dressed in a black gown, slowly stepped onto the stage.
The Melodist of Fortune.
Truly, her appearance was rare enough to fuel rumors.
Despite countless gazes turning upon her, not a trace of nervousness appeared.
One wondered if her skill was so outstanding as to earn a title, yet since Ignacia had invited her, she must surely be worthy.
And then—
'...What is this?'
Verden suddenly tilted his head.
The woman, who finished a slight bow of greeting to the audience, sat at the organ…
Indeed, she was someone he had never seen before.
No matter how he observed, there was nothing particular about her, and judged through magic, she was unmistakably an ordinary person.
And yet, why was the impression she left so strangely profound?
Enveloped by this inexplicable, uncanny sense, Verden stroked his chin.
Meanwhile, the Melodist placed her hands upon the keys and began to play.
───! ─! ──! ───!
The air split and trembled.
Before anyone realized it, vibrations that stirred the chest inwardly and outwardly dominated the entire theater.
It was overwhelming.
Soon, the woman's voice joined, harmonizing with the resonance.
Peace and happiness.
Hatred and rage.
Relief and rest.
Emotion was embedded in the music.
In the early part, a pastoral landscape like a cottage upon a hill was evoked.
In the middle, it was wild, sharp, and desperate, as if a man who had lost everything was rending the world apart.
In the latter, a gentle melody slowly washed away all thoughts. Like suffocating, as if life ebbed away, it guided toward the end.
The strong of the Empire, the Federated States, the Magic Tower.
And the powerholders and elites of Gargant.
All gazes were locked in unison, fixed upon the Melodist's solo, movement stilled.
Some with their mouths agape in dazed expressions, some clenching their molars hard, swept away by the middle part, some even shedding tears by the end—each reaction different.
Verden purely admired.
'...Magnificent.'
A single person had captivated thousands of eyes.
A sight as if mental-type magic was influencing the minds of the people.
So this was music.
Dozens of minutes passed like that.
Because the whole was one continuous piece, the performance never paused, yet it never grew dull.
At last, the woman concluded the song, decorating the finale with the final key.
No better beginning could have been asked for.
Immediately, innumerable spectators rose as one and rewarded her with thunderous applause.
Some even sent great shouts of acclaim.
Verden, still seated, clapped softly, adding his own small praise.
At that moment, the Melodist stepped forward to the front of the stage.
As Verden blinked in puzzlement, Heras whispered quietly.
"The Melodist, sometimes after a performance, throws a gold coin engraved with her face, very high toward the audience. It is said that the one who catches it will meet great fortune."
"So that is why she is called the Melodist of Fortune."
"Yes. And it is also said, if one forces the coin into their hands, misfortune follows."
Indeed, an eccentricity worthy of public rumor.
Granting specialness to another through such a post-performance act was a perfect flourish.
There is always a reason for fame.
Tiiing.
The woman upon the stage bent at the knee, arm powerfully outstretched.
The coin, gleaming in the light, shot upward.
It soared nearly to the ceiling, struck the magical devices and beams of the theater, ricocheting irregularly.
In the gazes fixed upon it, greed glistened.
Yet, just as Heras had said, none dared expose their desire through action.
Not only for fear of misfortune, but for the shame of being remembered worldwide for such an act.
'If it were Rayshen of old, he would surely have sabotaged this in secret.'
But the man could not risk being seen, thus only moved his head.
Indeed, no matter how stealthily he manipulated magic power, unless he wielded
The coin of fortune traced an arc as it fell.
Following its vivid trajectory with their heads, the crowd saw it finally halt in one place.
Toward one of the VIP chambers in the upper terrace.
"..."
"..."
Verden and Heras's focus narrowed.
The coin the Melodist had flung landed precisely upon Verden.
He reflexively caught it, and in his blue eyes gleamed the golden coin.
The Melodist of Fortune directly offered her blessing.
"May fortune be with you."
With that, her performance ended.
At once, as always, applause thundered through the theater.
Several spectators clicked their tongues, revealing envy and jealousy.
"Congratulations, Excellency."
"...Thank you."
Unexpectedly made the protagonist, Verden turned his gaze toward the stage.
But unlike the others, the woman was not looking at Verden.
She turned her head along the forced magic circle inscribed upon her body.
At this very moment.
Verden beheld Isabella.
Isabella recognized Rayshen.
And Rayshen, like the other spectators, cast his gaze toward Verden.
***
The Melodist of Fortune, who had finished the opening performance, stepped down from the stage.
Three presumed followers of Ignacia dismantled the pipe organ with
'A coin of fortune, huh....'
There was no particular impression.
Yet neither was there the slightest displeasure.
Verden flicked the coin lightly, then stored it away in the subspace of [Raindia].
It was then.
Suddenly, the lights flickered once. Darkness brushed past in all directions.
When brightness returned, a girl was already standing upon the stage.
Ignacia, of the extraterritorial realm.
The very one hosting the coming auction, the Scales of Ignacia.
"Did everyone enjoy the performance? This time, I invited the Melodist of Fortune, and it seems the response was very good. It was a fitting welcome, wasn't it?"
Though she wore her characteristic innocent smile, the atmosphere itself was solemn.
Gulp, the Third Prince of the Arnak Empire quietly swallowed. With no warning of her appearance, he could not conceal his tension before a transcendent being.
So it was for most.
"Now then, the opening is over, so let's skip the preamble and get right to the point!"
Clap, clap.
Ignacia clapped twice, and in the blink of an eye, a massive double-pan scale, a balance, appeared upon the stage.
One pan was empty, while upon the other rested a large, pure white object.
Someone muttered.
"Dragon material...!"
The very dragonbone, the core of this auction, was at last revealed to the world.
In every corner, restrained exclamations of awe burst out.
Ignacia vanished.
And simultaneously, she appeared again, seated atop the balance, swinging her legs back and forth.
"As you all know, this is the remnant of the Bone-Relic Dragon, obtained from the Licentia Merchant Guild. The rib bone. Its value, I need not speak. So, I've prepared an auction method that should be quite entertaining."
Labyrinth of Ants.
In the minds of the audience, the phrase printed in the newspapers surfaced.
"The theme is an expedition into a labyrinth where danger and treasure lurk. The conditions for participation are simple."
Ignacia repeated the explanation she had already given Verden and Adrian.
The entry fee, and a limit of 400 participants.
The monsters within the labyrinth to be hunted, and the various items usable only within it.
The tangible rewards to be gained from treasure chests.
The prohibition on conflict proclaimed across all of Gargant while the auction proceeds.
The guarantee of secrecy for the goods obtained.
The anonymity whereby the name of a killer would not be revealed if a participant was slain.
The restrictions and seals on tier and aura.
Those gathered in the theater listened intently to the conditions laid forth by a transcendent.
Some nodded and smiled, showing satisfaction, others chewed their lips anxiously, revealing unease.
"Ten hours after this opening ends, the auction will begin. First-come, first-serve could be fun, but then one faction might monopolize everything, no? So instead, come to the 'Grand Plaza' in advance and register. We'll be selecting the participants."
Maintaining her smile, Ignacia continued.
"And the Labyrinth of Ants will last exactly four days! Twelve hours before it ends, it will begin collapsing from the outside, so take care with your time! If you're late, you die. That should be enough of an introduction, don't you think?"
The word death descended upon them.
A minority of the audience, feeling the explanation lacking, conjured various doubts.
One of the Magic Towers, which had only brought an elite few, truly had few members meeting the conditions for participation.
And sending a talented Mage into a deathtrap labyrinth, with their tier sealed, was not an easy decision.
But.
"Ah, by the way. No questions will be taken, so disperse for now, and see you later. Opening over!"
Of course, Ignacia had no care for their concerns.
Thus, the opening of the Scales of Ignacia concluded successfully.
***
One by one, the groups filling the theater began to depart.
Some factions, seeking mercenaries fit to enter the labyrinth as participants, hurried out into Gargant to find suitable talents.
Verden watched Rayshen moving hidden among the crowd.
'Behind Rayshen, there is a 'Eye'.'
Among his personal guards, one Magus named Shedger, who always concealed his presence and figure, watching the surroundings wide, or directly performing missions that required secrecy.
The same was true for intelligence gathering.
In other words, it would not be an exaggeration to call him Rayshen's shadow.
'No matter if it is me or the Society... as long as Shedger is present, tracking Rayshen's location all day, keeping him under watch, is nearly impossible.'
It was due to the Mado that Shedger had pioneered.
Of course, not absolute, but the chance of discovery was remarkably high.
Truly, a troublesome existence.
Well, it was natural, given that he was the escort of one of Bohemirn Magic Tower's heirs.
To neutralize him, one would have to subdue him instantly, leaving him no chance to respond.
It meant patience was required, until a suitable opportunity arose.
'Thus, we follow Rovellin.'
There was no reason to risk pursuit of Rayshen.
One way or another, Rovellin and Rayshen would discuss the Labyrinth of Ants, and choose their participants.
Verden exited the theater with Heras.
Immediately after, by using
Every one of them began to move quietly.
"..."
Verden raised his head.
In his blue eyes reflected the night sky of Gargant, darkened after the sun had already set.
He took a deep breath, recalling the first objective.
'Until the first button is fastened, the time limit is about eight hours.'
Before the decree of conflict prohibition began, Rayshen Tailroad's eyes would be gouged out.
The hunt begins.
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