There they are, Celeste. Those are Dagnar and Brynhildr, Viktor told his Dungeon Core, his eyes locked on them, not straying for even a second.

  [I see them perfectly, Master. From now on, I will pay special attention to them whenever they show up in our dungeon.]

  The woman looked the same as she had the st time he saw her. Her long hair was bound in a heavy braid that hung down her back. A brown, sleeveless tabard sat over her pte, while mail covered her arms. Her left hand rested on the pommel of the broadsword at her hip. Was she pnning to head out after eating, or was she simply always this alert, even when she was inside an inn?

  The gaunt young man was probably wearing different clothes today, but Viktor didn’t care enough to notice such trivial details. It made no difference anyway. He always looked like he had just been dug out of a grave, no matter what he wore. His skin was still as pale as bone, his eyes sunken deep, and his movements sluggish. Viktor hadn’t heard him speak yet, since his so-called “aunt” always handled the talking whenever they had to deal with others, but he imagined this sickly-looking man had the same raspy voice as a certain mummy he knew.

  They made their way to a table in the far corner, half-swallowed by shadow, and far away from the hearth and the music. Brynhildr raised her mailed hand to wave down a passing waitress, while Dagnar stared into the table as if it were whispering to him.

  Once the waitress walked off with their order, the warrior woman leaned back in her chair, but there was no ease in her posture. Her gaze moved restlessly around the hall, scanning the dark corners, then darting to the exit. Was she expecting enemies to be lurking in the shadows? And she was mapping an escape route just in case? Viktor wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.

  In a way, she’s the same as Dagnar, just more calm and collected. They’re being hunted by someone, or something.

  [What would that be, I wonder?]

  I doubt we can just walk over and ask them. We’ll need to find out another way.

  “You’re paying a lot of attention to those two people.”

  Viktor turned and found Azran gncing his way. “I am. They look... unusual, don’t you agree? Very different from the other adventurers,” he said with a shrug.

  The bald man studied them for a moment, then he nodded. “Indeed.”

  “Which rank do you think they are?” Viktor asked. “Bronze, Iron, Silver, or Gold?”

  Azran shook his head. “You can’t tell people’s rank just by looking at them.”

  “Just take a guess.” Viktor grinned. “Come on! What’s the harm? You’re a Gold. I want to hear your input.”

  The bald man snorted. He raised his mug and took a long slurp, eyes narrowing as they locked onto the pair. Then, he slowly set the mug down and said, “The woman is at least Silver. Maybe Gold, or even higher. She has the eyes of someone who has killed. Many, actually. I wouldn’t want to fight her if I could avoid it.”

  Viktor nodded. He found this kind of insight useful. While he could tell Brynhildr was far stronger than most adventurers in Daelin, gauging how much stronger was difficult for him, at least until she actually crossed bdes with his minions in the dungeon. After all, despite his current body, he still viewed the world through the eyes of the man who had once conquered it. The number of people he had ever looked at and thought, “I wouldn’t want to fight them if I could avoid it,” could be counted on one hand.

  “And the man?”

  “He’s even harder to read,” Azran said, furrowing his brow. “Honestly, he doesn’t look like an adventurer at all. So Bronze, maybe. But there’s something about him that feels... off. Makes me uneasy. If I ever had to fight him, I would go for the kill immediately. No hesitation. Before he had the chance to pull any tricks.”

  Well, yes. After all, that was someone who was holding a fragment of his power, his Thaumaturgy. Though he was not sure what “a fragment” actually meant in practice, since Thaumaturgy was not a fixed set of abilities. It was a path, a way for him to get stronger over time, gaining more and more power. The Six Heroes had stolen it from him and divided it among themselves, but what did that mean exactly? Did they progress more slowly, or was there an upper limit to their progression? And most importantly, did they have access to the Supreme Thauma? It would have been a serious issue if they had, as those were the pinnacle techniques he had created himself to make the whole world bend their knees.

  So, could Dagnar use them? One of them? All of them? How many times per day? Those were critical questions that, right now, Viktor had no answers to. Not until Dagnar was tested in real combat.

  “Both of them are Bronze, actually,” he told Azran.

  “What?”

  “In fact, they weren’t even adventurers before their arrival in Daelin. They came here and registered at the Guild to obtain their rank st week.”

  Azran shook his head. “That’s strange.”

  “What’s strange? Not every adventurer starts out when they’re young. Some may have had different jobs before giving adventuring a try ter on.”

  “If you have a job in a city and decide to quit it to become an adventurer, would you register at the Guild there, or would you travel somewhere else to do so? Especially here, in a small town in the middle of nowhere?”

  “Maybe,” Viktor replied with a shrug. “They’ve been wandering around, entertaining the idea but haven’t committed yet. It was only after they got here that they made up their minds. Perhaps the newly discovered dungeon gave them the final nudge.”

  Or maybe they were just trying to keep a low profile. That would make sense if they were indeed being hunted.

  “Perhaps,” Azran said. “But if that’s the case, it still lines up with what I said. The woman must have lived a life full of fighting before she came here. A soldier, or a mercenary, in service to a lord, or even a king. The man, though, I still can’t figure out where to pce him.”

  The waitress returned, pcing two ptes of food before Dagnar and Brynhildr. The woman smiled and thanked her, while the man said nothing at all. When she turned to leave, however, he shot a sneaky gnce at her bottom.

  Brynhildr picked up her knife and fork. She cut her food cleanly, then brought each piece to her mouth one by one, chewing slowly. Her back stayed straight. Her shoulders never slouch. She ate with the composure and grace of a noblewoman at a royal banquet.

  Dagnar, in stark contrast, hunched over his pte as if he were about to dive into it. At first, he made an effort to mimic Brynhildr, awkwardly using the knife to cut his food. But that didn’t st. He quickly gave up, tossed the utensil aside, and grabbed the meat with his bare hands. He shoved it into his mouth, chewing noisily with his cheeks full, sauce leaking from the corners of his lips. Once finished, he ran his tongue along his fingers, licking off the grease.

  Azran frowned. “That’s just sad.”

  “Yeah,” Viktor agreed. “But the woman, on the other hand... I didn’t expect her to have such good table manners.”

  The bald man nodded. “That’s someone who is accustomed to feasting in a pace, not a barracks. She’s no ordinary soldier. Whatever organization she belonged to, she’s got to be high-ranking. An officer, maybe even a general.”

  “Do you think she has a Reliquary?”

  “Doubt it. While it’s possible that she was issued one by her lord, at the end of the day, it’s his, not hers. She would have to return it once her service was over,” Azran replied. “Unless she stole it, of course.”

  Well, if she did steal from her former employer, that would expin why they were being hunted.

  “If she kept the artifact, it would definitely give her a strong head start in her new adventuring career,” Viktor said.

  Azran let out a chuckle. “Kid, if I quit my cushy job by stealing some valuable item from my boss, I would have sold the damn thing and enjoyed my retirement. Why the hell would I be out here pying adventurer?”

  That’s true, Viktor admitted. There were two types of people who became adventurers: those who sought riches and those who sought fame. And someone who had just stolen a Reliquary from her lord was neither. Right, Celeste?

  [Master, there is another reason as well. You yourself began delving into dungeons without seeking either of those, did you not?]

  Well, that was because I wanted to train my Thaumatur—then the realization struck. Oh, that’s why.

  If the man was being hunted by someone, while being too weak to fight back, yet possessing the perfect tool to increase his power, of course he would hide in a secluded corner and train in secret. That made perfect sense.

  But that also meant Viktor had to act quickly. He knew better than anyone else how dangerous his power could be, and he couldn’t afford to give Dagnar the time to grow stronger. He needed to eliminate him, fast.

  “Those two,” Azran said. “They couldn’t be more different. There’s a huge gap between them. Age, strength, personality. How they ended up traveling together as a pair is beyond me.”

  “I heard that they’re aunt and nephew.”

  “Really?” The bald man blinked in surprise. “They look nothing alike. And if that’s the case, why didn’t she teach him some manners?”

  Well, because they’re not actually reted. The woman is just a bodyguard—

  Wait.

  Viktor had assumed that Dagnar was of royal blood, while Brynhildr was merely a mercenary hired to protect him. However, their behavior told a totally different story, with the woman carrying herself with grace, while the man acted like a peasant.

  He let out a sigh. As one question found its answer, another promptly emerged.

  [What are you going to do now, Master?]

  Well, I think we’ve reached the limit of what we can learn by just observing them. It’s time to move on to the next step.

  [Which is?]

  Breaking into their rooms, of course.