“Hughes. That man is a convict laborer assigned to Tantalus. After being summarily arrested for gambling in Amitengrad’s District 13-3, he was sentenced to hard labor in Tantalus.”

Tyr, who already knew he was a convict laborer, started in alarm and glanced at Shei to gauge her reaction. Fortunately, Shei did not immediately fly into a rage and charge off.

She merely narrowed her eyes and hummed through her nose.

“... So that’s it. That explains things.”

Shei had already harbored suspicions on several counts.

His assortment of abilities of utterly unknown origin. His manner, far too casual and friendly for a Military State officer. His peculiar behavior: readily intruding on private affairs while washing his hands of official duties.

Without ever reporting his rank and name, he had offered nothing but slick talk. He was decades removed from an ordinary Instructor.

Above all, even setting aside his rescue of Tyrkanzyaka... reviving her heart made the least sense of all.

Had the Military State known how to revive the Progenitor’s heart, it would have held that knowledge hostage to control her rather than actually doing it. That was the Military State’s idea of rationality.

His actions had thus been entirely unlike the Military State. That was why Shei had tried to find out whether he had ulterior motives.

‘But every time I tried to check, he slipped away like a cunning old snake, so I could never be certain!’

The Military State sought to standardize everything, humans included. There was no way someone as chaotic as him could be an Instructor. His very existence ran counter to its ideology.

It was far more convincing that he was a criminal with strange, bizarre powers who had to be locked away in Tantalus...

“Wait. A convict laborer? Not a criminal who needs to be imprisoned in Tantalus?”

Convict laborers and prisoners were entirely different. Prisoners were confined and wholly deprived of freedom, whereas convict laborers paid for their crimes by serving at a facility and performing all manner of odd jobs. Those with comparatively minor offenses received labor sentences and lived as something akin to workers.

Not an Instructor.

Not a dangerous felon to be locked up in Tantalus.

Just a petty criminal?

And what was more...

“He was arrested... just for gambling?”

“Correct. As one would expect of a worthless Level 0 citizen, he is a parasite who dreams only of striking it rich instead of doing honest work.”

Callis made no attempt to hide the contempt on her face.

Tyr, who had been cautiously watching the others’ reactions, bristled at her attitude and rose to his defense.

“A parasite merely for playing cards? Such harsh words!”

Callis answered at once, as though she had prepared her reply in advance.

“Of course, that alone would not have brought him all the way to Tantalus. But separate interrogations of the five participants revealed that he was a habitual gambler who regularly enticed decent people into gambling dens.”

“Gaming is, after all, a game. How can you call someone a criminal for playing?”

“Furthermore, the other four unanimously accused him of cheating. On that day alone, he reportedly won ninety percent of the games.”

Tyr faltered.

A ninety-percent win rate was abnormal, however skilled the gambler. Even Tyr, ignorant as she was of worldly affairs, knew that much.

She objected in a considerably less confident voice.

“... Might that not simply mean those four were incompetent?”

“They say they grew so frustrated by their repeated losses that the four of them colluded toward the end, yet still could not beat him. That was when they became certain.”

“... Colluding... is hardly... something to boast of, either...”

Even Tyr, brimming with affection for him, could defend him no further and trailed off.

Having thoroughly demolished her argument, Callis declared with renewed confidence,

“Those who can sink no lower try to use their circumstances to excuse their crimes. The Military State does not tolerate that. To prevent them from exploiting compassion to test military law, even the slightest crime by a Level 0 citizen must be punished as an example to all!”

Callis raised her head and shouted even louder.

“Level 0 citizen Hughes! You may have enjoyed a lax existence until now, but that ends today. Your supervisor has arrived. Come out immediately and report the current situation! Fail to do so, and you will be punished for dereliction of duty!”

Her booming voice echoed through Tantalus, but no response came from inside. Instead, Tyr stepped forward.

“He will not be able to answer. He has lost his memories and is now half-witted.”

“Lost his memories?”

Callis answered with a sneer.

“Does losing one’s memories justify neglecting one’s duties? Certainly not. If it did, a murderer could pretend to have amnesia and be declared innocent.”

“He is not turning a blind eye to what has happened. He is unable to do what lies ahead. Those are entirely different things. As different as the past and the future.”

Her tone was gentle, but her old-fashioned rebuke also seemed to scold its listener. When Callis fell silent, at a loss for a reply, Tyr carefully gathered up the mana herbs and moved away.

“These supplies are for him. If his senses return, I shall hear the rest of what you have to say.”

Holding the mana herbs with care, Tyr abruptly stopped before heading back into Tantalus and asked,

“Wait. Did you say his name was Hughes?”

“Correct. Is there a problem?”

“... You are not mistaken?”

“Before taking up my post at Tantalus, I read every file containing the personal details of its occupants. There is no room for doubt.”

Tyr looked distinctly uncomfortable. Shei snorted as though she had expected as much.

“See? I told you his answers were weird. The beans made no sense to begin with.”

“... We need only ask him directly. Our priority now is to awaken Hugh.”

“Let’s go together. I have questions for him too.”

Shei’s eyes blazed as she spoke.

“I finally have a lead...! He won’t get away this time...!”

Tyr could not fault her for that. Whatever else might be true, this was something he would have to endure. His physical safety was all Tyr could guarantee.

Tyr and Shei walked side by side toward the room of the man whose name was, once again, unknown.

Callis was the very model of a Military State officer, but like every other human being, she valued her own life. She had come to Tantalus under orders, and had even been warned that she might die... but a pointless death was the last thing she wanted.

That was why, when Shei had radiated murderous intent, she had felt a terror that nearly stopped her breath.

“The Progenitor is one thing, but he is a threat approaching a general’s level... To think he would show murderous intent the moment we met.”

The Progenitor was a historically renowned being, akin to a natural disaster.

Was there any need to fight and defeat a typhoon? Any need to stand firm against a lightning strike?

One simply ducked down and waited for the typhoon to pass, or stayed low and waited for the lightning to stop.

As befitted a vampire who had lived for ages, the Progenitor was indifferent to most things and cared little how much her surroundings changed. She had done nothing even when the Military State moved her, sleeping in her coffin, into the bottomless pit.

The tale was fairly famous even within the Military State: she had asked just once, [“Where are we going?”] When a soldier carrying her inadvertently answered that they were going to the bottomless pit, she had murmured, [“Then the sky will not be visible there.”] After that, she had fallen silent.

As long as one did not touch the Progenitor’s sore spot—for instance, by praying to the Sky God in front of her—there was little danger. She might even become an ally.

“The problem, however, is the irregular.”

Though provisionally ranked Level 3... Shei was a powerful unknown whose identity and origins were unclear.

A dangerous individual whom Patraxion the Peerless Spear, one of the Military State’s Six Generals, had personally been forced to subdue.

Having a monster nearby who could kill her at any moment was anything but pleasant.

Her one reassurance was that the convict laborer sent down ahead of her... the litmus... had yet to turn blood-red.

If even a petty criminal could stay alive, there was no reason Callis, one of the Military State’s elite, could not.

“... Though I have no idea what he went through to become half-witted.”

Callis exhaled deeply and removed her service cap. She had prided herself on her nerve, but her body was apparently more honest: a bead of sweat ran down the nape exposed beneath her bobbed hair.

“My mission is to survive and report.”

Because Shei had smashed all the golems, insufficient information had been gathered about Tantalus’s interior. Her superior, who had originally been scheduled to come, had therefore sent her down instead. She was to go ahead and collect information—and, if there was any danger, experience it firsthand before anyone else.

She knew her situation was no different from the litmus’s, but she had no choice.

After all, it was to be used at a time like this that she had been promoted to Lieutenant Colonel ahead of countless other officers.

“Make humanity great again.”

Recalling their cherished wish, she steeled her resolve.

* * *

Tantalus’s fourth floor belonged to the convict laborers. It held their workplaces, such as the dining hall and laundry room, and their sleeping quarters were on the very same floor, ready for them to rest after work.

Heading toward one of those rooms, Shei said,

“Come to think of it, he’s been staying in a convict laborer’s room, hasn’t he? Imagine living here.”

“You mean you did not even know where Hugh was staying all this time?”

“I didn’t even know his name. How would I know where he lived?”

Tyr chided Shei as she looked around curiously.

“How indifferent of you. After all the time we have spent together.”

“Huh? Be honest. Didn’t you only find out after you got your heartbeat back?”

“... Hmm.”

Without replying, Tyr opened the door to his room.

He was still sitting blankly on the edge of his bed. When the door opened, he briefly turned his head toward it, but that was no more than a response to a stimulus.

He answered questions and reacted to others’ actions, but remained passive, never taking the initiative himself. Tyr greeted the man who had yet to recover his sense of self as warmly as ever.

“Hugh, has all been well?”

The cramped room in the convict laborers’ quarters seemed full with just two more people in it. Tyr crossed the little room and sat beside him.

Leaning against the doorway, Shei muttered,

“It gives me chills when I think about it. He gave us a fake name even without a sense of self.”

“Surely he has his reasons. Now, Hugh, look at this. The supplies you needed...”

Tyr took a cigar rolled from mana herbs out of the paper box. Then she suddenly realized she did not know how to use it.

For a vampire, naturally immune to illness, poisons, and drugs, a finger-sized roll of smoking leaf was an utterly baffling object. Tyr hesitated, holding it awkwardly.

“Use it... How does one use this stick...? It does not seem to be food...”

What was the most common use for a long stick?

In Tyr’s experience, there was only one.

Raising the mana-herb cigar, she began lightly smacking his shoulder with it.

“Come now. Wake up!”

Even then, she was hitting his shoulder rather than his head, with no strength behind the blows at all. He would hardly have reacted to them even if he had not lost his memories.

The sight was so like a child playing that Shei could only gape in disbelief for several seconds.

“... That’s not how you use it. And even if it were, what could tapping his shoulder that gently possibly change?”

“Then what am I to do? There is no other way, is there?”

“You’re supposed to smoke it... Oh, why bother explaining? Just try putting it in his hand.”

Still doubtful, Tyr carefully brought the mana herbs to his hand.

There was a response.

The instant it touched his palm, his hand twitched reflexively. His fingers instinctively curled around the mana-herb cigar. Then he slowly brought it to his nose and sniffed, as though checking its quality.

“It’s started.”

Tyr could see that much without Shei having to say it. She kept quiet and simply watched him.

With the cigar in his hand, his movements were natural, as though ingrained in his body.

He raised a finger and conjured fire with standard-issue magic. A light scrape of his flame-bearing nail against the tip of the mana herbs sent a vivid red flame seeping into the gap.

Hidden deep inside, the flame gathered strength in the darkness, then soon flaunted its overflowing power, staining the world crimson.

“Shei? Hugh has set it alight. Should we not stop him?”

“No, that’s how you use mana herbs. They’re sort of like incense, when you get down to it.”

A belated cremation began for the dead leaves. Those who claimed to have seen human souls all described them differently, but the soul of a tobacco leaf had only one form: a gray, vertically striped snake, writhing upward.

The smoker welcomed that soul with a rather reverent air. Coiling around something unseen as it rose, the snake filled the world with its own color and scent.

Once enough smoke had risen, he held the cigar between two fingers in accordance with an ancient rite and lightly kissed it.

His movements flowed as naturally as water. A clear picture of what he would do next formed in the mind.

Shei nodded.

“Ah, now I get it. So this is what you were after?”

Having trained in the energy art known as the Heaven-Reversing Realm, Shei understood his actions at once.

Its basic principle was to engrave movements into the body. Because the body responded before the mind, one could maintain physical and mental composure in any situation.

To counter mental attacks, the Heaven-Reversing Realm emphasized somatic gestures similar to what he was doing now.

“The rising smoke resembles incense. Is this incense part of a ritual to restore his mind?”

“The smoke from burning mana herbs must have an effect too, but that’s only part of it. What he’s doing now is a kind of autosuggestion. He’s trying to rekindle his mind’s memories with his body’s memories.”

From conjuring fire with magic to bringing the cigar to his lips and drawing on it.

The sequence was far too smooth for someone who had lost his memories. Clearly, after thousands, tens of thousands of repetitions, he had found the most efficient path through those motions and engraved it into his body.

“These motions became second nature through smoking mana herbs hundreds and thousands of times. They’re still buried deep in his subconscious, so even after losing himself, his body reproduces them on its own. He’s using these movements to stimulate his dormant self.”

“Then will this truly awaken Hugh?”

“Yes. He emphasized it in his note himself, so I’m sure.”

As time passed, the cigar steadily shortened. For now, it was a clock that marked time by burning. Acrid smoke filled the room, and when the ember that had eaten through more than half the cigar began nipping at his fingers,

he set it down on the desk.

“At last!”

Under Tyr’s expectant gaze, he...

“Cough! Cough!”

Coughed loudly, then continued staring into space with the same hazy eyes.

Feeling utterly betrayed, Tyr cried out,

“It did not work!”

“Huh? That’s strange. Wasn’t this it? Are these the wrong mana herbs? No, judging by how he smoked them, they seem right...”

While Shei examined the mana herbs, Tyr looked around. Her eyes happened to fall on a little handbell on the desk.

“I have never seen him put incense in his mouth in the first place! If I have no memory of it, how could his body remember?”

“That’s because you can’t get anything to smoke in the bottomless pit... It probably would’ve worked on the surface...”

“Might he need some other trigger? Let us see. We have burned incense, so this time I shall ring this bell.”

“Wait! That bell is for calling Azi...”

Ignoring Shei’s attempt to stop her, Tyr shook the bell, grasping at straws. A little jingling rang out, and a few seconds later...

“Woof, woof!”

A dog’s bark sounded in the distance. Responding to the bell, Azi was racing down the corridor toward them.

The beast’s cries approached, accompanied by the patter of four paws.

Responding when it wasn’t even mealtime, honestly... Was she well-trained, or just a bottomless stomach?

With a sigh, ‘I’ looked toward Azi and called out, just as I always did.

“Azi. Time to eat!”