A young girl walked through the city at dusk.

  Her steps were light and graceful, like the soft rustle of leaves in a breeze.

  With her drooping eyes and gentle expression, she was not the kind of beauty that would make anyone gasp in admiration, yet there was something undeniably captivating about her. Something that drew the eye and held it for a moment longer than one might expect.

  From the outside, she appeared calm, collected even. The perfect picture of composure.

  Yet in the recesses of her mind, her extraordinary intellect was working at full capacity, unraveling the threads of thought in a desperate search for answers.

  There was a sense of relief, yes.

  The moment it was confirmed that Seneca would go to ‘Spelunka,’ the minimum requirement had been met. With that, she would not miss out on hearing the crucial information from Lucius.

  Her childhood friend had once again left an exceptional result in her wake.

  Maiol, too, had been as sharp as ever—beginning with her thorough research, moving through to her inquiries, and finally, leading it all to fruition.

  Outwardly, one might believe it all came about through mere coincidence, the result of a simple happenstance that her instructor knew about ‘Spelunka,’ but the girl knew better. She knew that wasn’t the case.

  One had succeeded, and one had nearly succeeded. In just two days, such progress on a difficult task was a remarkable feat. It was safe to say they had done well.

  Yes, she was truly gd about it.

  But to say she wasn’t frustrated would be a lie.

  After all, this was a joint effort—no one person’s victory. Yet, somewhere along the way, due to an established rule, it seemed that only one person could go to ‘Spelunka,’ each to be accompanied by only one guide.

  It felt like they were being tested. ‘Trial’ might be too grand a term, but it seemed as if they could not proceed unless they earned someone’s recognition.

  To have come this far and not be able to speak with Lucius directly…

  Her heart was filled with such thoughts.

  Thus, she immersed herself. Immersed herself in contemption. She thought long and hard about how she could also reach ‘Spelunka.’

  Seneca, ever observant, knew that when Kito became absorbed in her thoughts, her expression shifted to something bittersweet, yet lively and mysterious at the same time.

  The light of the moon, which had only just begun to rise, faintly bathed Kito in a soft glow.

  Passersby couldn’t help but be drawn to the girl as they walked the streets.

  ...

  Meanwhile, at Hero's Fountain...

  Maiol waited by the fountain as Attalos arrived.

  Dressed in the attire of an adventurer, Attalos still managed to look impeccably neat. His hair appeared to have been carefully smoothed with oil, and he exuded an air of refined care.

  “Well then, shall we go?” he said, his voice steady.

  Maiol followed closely behind, keeping pace with Attalos as they walked through the city. Gradually, it seemed as though they were heading towards the outskirts.

  They veered off the main road, entering smaller and quieter streets. After a few more turns down narrow paths, they arrived at a ntern-lit shop.

  “There. The person we’re meeting is inside,” Attalos said, his tone casual. “He’s friendly and open, but I’d advise you not to use your [Detection] skill. It might give you away. Of course, if you sense any danger, do as you must.”

  Maiol nodded. “Understood.”

  Attalos smiled, then entered the shop.

  ...

  The shop had a counter right by the entrance, but there were no customers at the moment. The interior stretched further back, with more seating likely hidden away.

  “Is Old Grey here?” Attalos asked, walking straight up to the counter.

  The shopkeeper, recognising him immediately, chuckled and said, “Ah, Attalos! It’s been a while. Grey’s in the back, in his usual room. Go on back.”

  Attalos nodded and moved further inside. After passing through a door, they descended a long staircase. Maiol remained silent, aware that her companion had not spoken a word.

  The descent took them through several rooms, and Maiol could tell they had entered a basement of sorts.

  At the end of the hallway was a door with the word Tokara painted on it.

  Attalos opened it with a flourish. “Old man! It’s me—Attalos!”

  “I thought you’d show up sooner or ter, Attalos,” came a voice from inside.

  The room was dim, but the old man sitting there had a sharp, keen expression, and when he smiled, it revealed a man of experience, his eyes twinkling with warmth.

  He turned his gaze to Maiol. “Ah, and who is this young dy?”

  Maiol couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at the casual greeting, though it stung just a little inside.

  ...

  “Got the picture now. So, this young dy wants to meet with Primus, does she?” the old man, Grey, asked.

  “That’s right,” Attalos affirmed. “I, Attalos Pergamon, vouch for her.”

  Attalos seemed in good spirits.

  “Very well, then. I’ll take responsibility for bringing her to ‘Spelunka,’” Grey said, his tone full of confidence.

  Attalos ughed heartily. “Take responsibility? You’re a funny old man.”

  For a while, Maiol simply listened, observing their conversation. Attalos was as cheerful as ever, and Grey seemed just as open and affable, sharing stories with ease.

  “You two seem very close,” Maiol remarked timidly, her curiosity piqued.

  “We’ve known each other since he was a kid,” Grey replied, his eyes softening. “More like old friends than anything else.”

  Attalos, grinning widely, added, “Yeah, this old man took care of me back in the day. He was like a guardian to my party, always lecturing me. Now, those old warnings are fond memories.”

  “Oh, don’t start with that! You were a little troublemaker back then!”

  Attalos retorted with mock indignation, but both men ughed. It was clear they were enjoying the exchange, bantering with fondness.

  Maiol, though unsure of what to say, chose to remain quiet and let them enjoy their conversation. Whenever the subject turned to her, their smiles only grew wider, but they didn’t probe further. It seemed like they were content to leave her to her own thoughts.

  ...

  After their meeting, Attalos escorted Maiol back to the Adventurers' Academy.

  She had questions, many of them, but Attalos wasn’t forthcoming with answers.

  “You’ll learn everything tomorrow. After that, we can talk. I’ll share what I know then,” he said, his smile sly and knowing.

  Maiol, frustrated but curious, tried to press him, but he remained tight-lipped, making it clear he wasn’t ready to reveal anything further.

  ...

  The next morning, Kito was on her way to meet with a certain instructor, Semia.

  Semia was a renowned expert in magical chemistry. Her creations could serve as anything from potions and weapons to inks or even specialized reagents.

  A respected member of the magic community, Semia had connections everywhere. Yet, despite her influence, she never sought to wield power for its own sake.

  Her warm, ever-present smile was a trait that seemed to match Yulia’s personality perfectly. The two were close friends, and Yulia had assured Kito that Semia was someone she could trust without question.

  Kito walked with a light step. She had done everything she needed to do. She had investigated, researched, and reached a conclusion.

  It could be wrong, of course. It could all come undone if the premise proved faulty, but Kito was ready for that possibility. She would simply have to admit her own shortcomings and try again.

  Earlier that day, she had spoken to Maiol and Seneca, confirming that Maiol had secured her pce with ‘Spelunka.’

  In the exchanges between Attalos and Grey, Kito had noticed small but telling hints—subtle details that seemed to lead to something greater.

  The connections were tenuous, fragile even.

  She couldn’t say for certain that they were all interconnected, but the more she twisted the threads, the more a coherent pattern began to emerge.

  If the premise was wrong, everything could come crumbling down.

  But Kito would face that when the time came.

  After a while, Kito stood at the door of Semia’s room. She knocked lightly, waiting for a response.

  The moment had arrived.

  With steady steps, Kito entered the room.