Their first night in the Demonlands passed more peacefully than expected—so peacefully that their fears of monsters emerging in the middle of the night proved quite unfounded. Seeing Shan and Roden’s relief, Zerpo warned them.

“Do not relax too much. We are only on the very edge of the Demonlands. The farther we go, the more powerful monsters will come swarming out.”

Before long, Shan and Roden would understand all too well what he meant.

“Huh?”

“What is it?”

“The compass is broken.”

At Roden’s words, Shan looked down at the compass in his hand. The black needle, which should have been pointing north, was spinning madly.

“Do you know why this is happening, Master Mage?”

“It shames me to say this as a scholar, but ‘why’ has little meaning in the Demonlands. Simply think of this area as that sort of region.”

“Do not worry too much. A region that interferes with compasses is a fairly minor obstacle, all things considered.”

Roden nodded at Priest Vent’s reassurance, but he still felt uneasy. A compass was supposed to give reliable directions in any situation; having it rendered useless was bound to be disorienting. Worse still, the cloud-covered skies of the Demonlands meant they could not navigate by the stars.

They had been heading east from memory for only a short while when a dozen or so lesser vampires suddenly emerged from beyond a hill and attacked. Their skin was shriveled, perhaps from prolonged starvation, and their red eyes were half-crazed with hunger.

“Damn...”

“Everyone, back to back!”

With enemies surrounding them and rushing in from all sides, Shan did not charge out as he had before. Instead, he stood at the front of the party, facing the largest number of attackers. He took the head off the first with his longsword, kicked the creature beside it hard, then drove his blade into a third one’s chest. As he pulled it free, the black blood characteristic of vampires spurted out.

Meanwhile, the others did their part. Roden forced three or four vampires back with his large shield and mace, securing a patch of ground, while Priest Vent wielded his sword and shield and Zerpo deftly handled his long staff to keep the enemies at bay.

Such attacks became more frequent as they advanced. Sometimes they encountered monsters five or six times in a single day. Considering that even one or two attacks a day was a lot when traveling through Pendia, the conditions were extraordinarily harsh. Fighting for one’s life brought tremendous fatigue and pressure; an ordinary person would have collapsed from exhaustion long ago. With their compass inexplicably unusable and even their sense of direction lost, panic would have been entirely understandable.

Yet Vent and Zerpo, both experienced explorers, remained calm, as though this were perfectly routine. If anything, they were surprised by how readily Shan and Roden were taking it all in stride. Roden’s considerable ability as a warrior surprised them more than Shan’s did. Neither had shown it, but both had suspected that his impressive appearance was all he had going for him.

“You are quite capable yourself.”

“Ha ha, I’m nothing compared with Shan.”

“Well, that is certainly true.”

Roden merely chuckled at Zerpo’s blunt reply, delivered without the slightest attempt to soften it. After all, humans were not flawed or deficient just because they could not breathe fire and fly like dragons.

After two days of fighting, sleeping, and moving on, the compass that had been behaving so erratically finally returned to normal. It meant they had at last reached their first planned destination. Roden brightened at the sight of the mountain in the distance.

“Oh, is that it?”

“Yes. Delephon, though it is better known by its nickname, the Mountaintop City.”

True to its nickname, the city before them stood atop a lofty, rocky mountain. It was impossible even to imagine how anyone had hauled building materials up those steep slopes and constructed buildings there. Perhaps it had been done using the old Alto Empire’s extraordinary magical capabilities.

The party followed a narrow path winding up the rocky mountain and soon entered the city. It was a small place that might once have housed roughly a thousand people. Most buildings were about three stories tall, all of them weathered and faded as though bleached of color. Dust lay thick on the broken edges of windowpanes. The interiors stood empty, the ruins filled only with rubbish left behind by passing visitors. Shan imagined the Altoans who had lived here long ago and called this place home.

“Explorers have been coming here for hundreds of years. It would be best not to expect anything from this city.”

Zerpo spoke coolly as he watched Shan and Roden look around.

As he said, countless explorers had visited this city since the distant days of the Arman Empire. Nothing useful could possibly remain. They had come only to use its high elevation to check the changing weather in the surrounding area.

Their destination, the watchtower in the center of the city, stood well over a hundred meters tall. It was far narrower than the Magic Society’s amethyst tower they had seen before, but its almost unreal height alone was enough to dominate its surroundings. Worse, the towering structure leaned visibly to one side. Roden gaped, then looked from Vent to Zerpo and asked,

“Are you sure we can climb that? It looks rather dangerous...”

“It is fine. It has already stood for close to a thousand years. Surely it will not collapse simply because we climb it now.”

“If it does, then the Goddess has turned her back on us. What could we do about that?”

Since the two men had climbed the tower many times before, Shan and Roden eventually accepted their assurances and agreed to go up with them. They tied their two horses near the entrance and stepped through the broken doorway.

The tower was hollow at its center, with a seemingly endless spiral staircase leading to the top. The steps were narrow and steep, and Priest Vent, the oldest among them, grumbled about his aching knees.

When they reached the top a short while later, the view was truly magnificent. Not only could they see the entire city, but the tower’s height atop the already lofty mountain fortress afforded them an uninterrupted view for tens of kilometers around.

“Wow...”

“Now, let us have a look.”

Zerpo took a long cylinder from inside his clothes, chanted a spell, and held it to one eye. He turned this way and that to survey their surroundings, then nodded with a thoughtful hum and lowered it.

“Sandstorms to the north, frost to the east, and swampland to the south.”

“Can I have a look too?”

“By all means.”

Shan accepted the cylinder from Zerpo and held it to his eye. At first the view was blurry and out of focus, but after a short wait, the distant landscape came clearly into sight.

Just as Zerpo had said, swampland stretched to the south. Perhaps because of the ashen soil peculiar to the Demonlands, ash floated on the stagnant water, making it look thoroughly unhealthy. As he watched, several water ghouls wandered about, dripping gray water.

Turning his gaze east, he saw ice spirits floating above a furious swirl of white snow. To the north, the dust was so thick that he could see almost nothing.

“And all this changes every week to a month?”

“Yes. No one knows when it will change, or into what.”

A dry, ashen wasteland turning into snowfields or swamps could only be called magical. From what they had heard, even these environments were relatively bearable; farther in, there were places where fire swirled and lightning rained down. This was another reason exploring the Demonlands was so difficult. If a place where they had encountered only a little blowing sand on their last expedition became an inferno or a rain of lightning, they would have no choice but to change course.

Food was difficult to obtain here. Without ample provisions and planning, they could find their return route blocked and starve before making it back. These were natural disasters Shan could not hope to fight, no matter how skilled he was with a sword. They would be impossible to cross without costly items imbued with protection from fire or lightning.

“Then let’s go through the sandstorm region. We’ve made at least some preparations for that.”

The blizzard region was obviously dangerous, and the swamps were breeding grounds for all manner of disease. An unforeseen mishap there could leave them unable to fight. Everyone agreed with Roden’s decision.

* * *

Four or five hours after leaving the city and walking north, sand and dust began blowing in from who knew where. Everyone put on face coverings, and they fitted coverings over the horses’ mouths as well. Shan was about to ask Roden for water when he grimaced.

“Ugh, I got sand in my mouth...”

“Don’t talk too much. You’ll get more in there.”

The first sandstorm Shan had ever experienced was far more bothersome than he had expected. His narrowed eyes stung, and every breath felt as though it carried grains of sand into his nose and throat.

More troublesome still was the fact that monsters suited to such conditions frequently appeared: giant scorpions that slid out through the sand already piled around them, harpies riding the wind in search of prey, and spirits formed from sand in the shape of giants.

Fighting with their sight, smell, and hearing all impaired was quite a nuisance, but fortunately, these were trials they could readily overcome. Before long, the creatures had been reduced to severed tails, wing feathers, and essences, all loaded onto the horses’ saddles.

Even as they fought the twin enemies of monsters and harsh nature, Roden made sure to record unusual buildings and terrain, as well as the locations and shapes of places suitable for shelter. If this became a region where compasses failed when they returned, they would have to rely on such information.

On the third day, when they finally emerged from the sandstorm region, a werewolf attacked as though welcoming them out. At the sight, Shan realized just how absurd his earlier confusion between werewolves and gnolls had been.

“Wow, they don’t even look alike.”

Unlike gnolls, which looked like somewhat dim-witted wolves walking on two legs, werewolves were grotesquely twisted aberrations. This one stood only a little shorter than a troll. Its claws were so long and sharp, like hooks, that its hands could not possibly wield a weapon, and its ears were large and pointed like a bat’s.

After receiving Vent’s blessing, Shan drew the silver-plated dagger he had prepared and his one-handed sword, one in each hand, and faced the charging creature.

[“Kraaagh!”]

Werewolves were physical beings, but they also possessed the properties of a spiritual form, allowing them to recover quickly from all physical attacks. It resembled a troll’s rapid regeneration, but was even more troublesome in that it did not consume their own flesh. In exchange, wounds inflicted with silver would not regenerate properly.

Shan sliced off the charging creature’s forepaw with his sword, then drove the blade deep into its chest. As he pulled it out, he plunged the silver-plated dagger into the exact same spot and gouged its heart. With a wound that silver prevented from regenerating, the werewolf tried to muster its tenacious vitality for one final struggle. But Roden struck it with a full-force swing of his war flail, sending it sprawling.

“... Honestly, no matter how often I see it, I cannot get used to it.”

“Creatures that would force several capable explorers to band together and risk their lives, dropping dead just like that. Good grief.”

Zerpo and Vent looked at each other and laughed helplessly, remarking that they had never been on such an easy expedition. Though not classified as a large monster, a werewolf was about as dangerous as a troll. Seeing one dispatched as casually as a gnoll was bound to leave them dumbfounded.

After removing its valuable hide, the party searched the surrounding area for its den. Someone had pointed out that werewolves were known to collect shiny objects, so it might have gathered belongings from dead explorers.

After searching for about half an hour, they found that the werewolf’s cave did indeed contain a collection of objects. There were, however, far more than they had imagined.

“What in the world is all this?”

“It seems to have wiped out an entire expedition. One that had enjoyed considerable success, at that...”

Inside the cave were rusted weapons, backpacks containing various monster materials, and several strangely shaped metal objects. According to Zerpo’s appraisal, the latter were unquestionably artifacts excavated from some Altoan ruin.

“None of them is particularly remarkable, but together they should be worth several hundred gold coins. Magical devices that function indefinitely have a certain baseline value.”

“Wow...”

This was precisely why explorers flocked to the perilous Demonlands. Many would die at the hands of monsters and turn to dust on the ashen earth, but even a few rare monster materials or artifacts like these could make them astonishingly wealthy by commoners’ standards.

Once they had gathered the objects from the werewolf’s den, someone suggested it was time to turn back. They had intended their first journey to be a short one and had not brought much food. Their unexpected windfall had also greatly increased their load. If they went any farther, they clearly would not be able to collect materials from monsters they killed on the return trip.

* * *

Rather than retrace their steps, they decided to open a new route home, heading straight west before turning south. Since this was their first expedition here, they wanted a more detailed understanding of the surrounding geography. The more routes they had available, the better.

A survey from a hill revealed that a region of fierce winds lay northwest of the sandstorm region. There was no sand mixed into the wind, but it blew far harder. Weasel-shaped wind spirits occasionally appeared and tried to slice their throats, making it quite threatening.

Using the ill-defined strip between the two regions as their route, the party walked for a day and a half and reached the outskirts of the Demonlands. They brightened at the sight of an old building and approached it. Presumably dating from the old Alto era, it looked as though it might once have served as a large barn or village hall. Someone was already there.

“Oh?”

“Well, now.”

Eight explorers were already sheltering inside. Unlike Green Eyes, they seemed to have fought a series of fierce battles: every one of them wore battered armor. All of them were Altoans. Their unusual appearances drew the eye, from strangely colored skin—perhaps because their blood was not red—to long, pointed, elfin ears or cat ears atop their heads.

‘Ah, these must be those people...’

Shan had heard passing mention of them at the explorers’ guild. Apparently, there were a few insular expeditions that accepted only Altoans as members. These people seemed to belong to that category.

Another surprise was that two of them were women. Judging by their relatively light equipment, they were probably a mage and a scout, but even that surprised Shan. There was a clear, substantial difference in physical ability between men and women, after all.

As might be expected of seasoned explorers, several seemed to know Vent and Zerpo and greeted them.

“Well, if it isn’t the priest. And that obnoxious mage is here too...”

“You would do well to refrain from slandering someone simply because he taught you something you did not know.”

Zerpo’s reply was grumbling, but his expression suggested they were not on particularly bad terms. After a brief, friendly exchange, some of them took an interest in Shan. Though clouds hid the sun here, day and night still existed. With evening approaching, his green eyes had begun to glow softly.

“Who’s the boy? I know just about every Altoan living in Shedil by sight.”

“He recently arrived from the west. He is the strongest fighter in our expedition. A truly remarkable young man.”

The Altoan explorers laughed incredulously at Vent’s words. They had been deep in the Demonlands when Shan made a name for himself in Shedil, so naturally the claim sounded absurd.

“Ha ha, I see.”

“More importantly, you all look rather poorly. Did something happen?”

Ragged clothing was understandable when they were on their way back from an expedition, but every face was utterly gloomy. At Roden’s question, the apparent leader answered with a deeply troubled sigh.

“It did. We thought we’d made a truly good haul this time, but we ran into those Ajun bastards and lost everything. As you can see, we barely escaped with our lives.”

Now that he mentioned it, they certainly were carrying far too little for an expedition on its way home. Even if they had consumed almost all the food they had brought, a lengthy expedition should have left them with a corresponding amount of monster materials and the like.

“Ajun men, you say?”

“Yes.”

“You must have gone a long way north.”

“Don’t even get me started. It was probably the farthest we’ve ever gone since forming the expedition! We’re lucky to be alive, but thinking of everything we lost keeps me awake at night...”

The Kingdom of Ajun, a land of snowfields in the northern Arman Alliance, was a prominent Old Faith nation that despised Altoans and magic. Even so, its people ventured into the Demonlands to wage a holy war: they sought the old Alto Empire’s capital so they could close the gate through which monsters emerged.

To them, an expedition made up of Altoans would be a pack of devil-spawn who deserved to be slaughtered. As the man said, they were lucky to have escaped with their lives.

As they spent some time disparaging the Kingdom of Ajun, Shan noticed something odd. Several of the Altoan explorers exchanged glances toward the packs on the horses, then began slowly moving to surround his party. Before the encirclement could tighten, Shan tilted his head slightly and asked outright,

“Why are you blocking the entrance, though?”

The building, noisy with conversation only moments before, fell silent in an instant. Zerpo looked around, realized they were being quietly surrounded, and spoke with an expression of disgust.

“You cannot possibly be...”

SHING!

With the sound of a blade being drawn, an assortment of weapons was leveled at them.

The Altoan who appeared to be their leader spoke with a conflicted expression.

“We’re finished if we go back like this. I won’t insult you with an apology.”

“Stop this. The Goddess will not forgive it!”

“That precious Goddess of yours doesn’t give a damn about filthy Altoans like us any—!”

The Altoan leader’s snarling response to Vent cut off abruptly. Naturally, someone whose head had gone flying could no longer speak.

“Huh?”

One of the Altoan explorers made a blank, bewildered sound at the incomprehensible sight. Why had the head of a man who had been speaking perfectly normally suddenly flown off?

They found their answer only when they saw a green light streak across their vision. The innocent-looking Altoan boy with the glowing green eyes... He had struck first, taking them by surprise!

“Get him!”

As the shout rang out, almost a scream, Shan swung his sword. A second Altoan collapsed, blood spilling from his chest.

His explosive ability to accelerate from a standstill to full speed in an instant made him seem like a monster in human form. Every one of them was skilled enough to hold their own in a defensive fight against a large monster, yet none could withstand more than a single exchange with this green-eyed devil.

And infuriatingly, their own attacks accomplished nothing. He cut through a thrusting spear with his sword, slapped the flat of an incoming blade aside with his empty hand, and simultaneously kicked a mace from its wielder’s grasp. Some attacks that were particularly difficult to evade, he skillfully deflected with his mail.

“Aaagh!”

“Fuck, what is that thing?!”

“Della! Restrain him! Hurry!”

“[Glaciotrapresa—]”

At the desperate cry, the woman called Della chanted an incantation and consumed her one remaining catalyst to cast her spell. Yet as she pointed at Shan, confusion and despair spread across her face.

The recoil felt as though she had punched an enormous metal wall. And this was a spell that had even succeeded in halting a troll briefly!

“It’s not working!”

“What?!”

Before they even had time to register their shock, Shan had cut down six warriors in an instant. He closed the distance to the treacherous spellcaster in a few strides. Then he raised his empty left hand beside his temple and caught an incoming arrow without even looking at it. The archer hiding in a dark corner gasped at the sight.

“S-spare m—”

The terrified mage’s eyes rolled back as she begged for her life, and her upright cat ears drooped. Shan had driven the arrow he had just caught straight into her temple.

When he turned toward the archer who had fired it, she was already trembling with a sword buried in her chest. Vent, who had finished her off, murmured quietly.

“Ah, you foolish people...”

A deep sigh filled the now-silent building.