Meanwhile, the third floor of the underground Labyrinth.
Somewhere within it, an old staff lay in solitude.
A worn, blunted grip. Coarse wood grain rising roughly along its length. The marks carved and polished by time were clearly etched into its surface. At first glance it looked like nothing more than a dry branch abandoned to fate, but the closer one approached, the more an inexplicable reverence began to stir. Perhaps it was due to the faint light seeping through the deep cracks.
“Ah...”
Twisted metal debris and piles of concrete. In this lifeless landscape, among scattered rusted mechanical joints, the faded staff resembled a monument from deep antiquity — something that did not belong here at all.
Shu-u-u-rk—
Before it, limping, an old man came to a halt.
Dressed in rags like a vagrant and favoring one leg, he did not seem pitiful in the slightest. Most likely it was his powerful build and the sharp, beast-like gaze that prevented it. The enormous rifle on his back and the pair of daggers at his waist, gleaming ominously, seemed to brand the word “Dangerous” directly into the mind.
The old man looked at the altar and let out a quiet sigh. In that sigh were pure joy and long-nurtured obsession intertwined.
“...So the prophecy did not lie after all.”
“Year 872 of the sacred calendar, twelfth month. In the Labyrinth shall appear that which we sought.”
It was a prophecy left by the First Secretary of the Society. She had left many predictions. Among them were not a few vague and obscure ones, yet the old man and the other “members of the Society” had believed her.
“She was the only sage who gained access to the Tablet and obtained countless supernatural abilities.”
Had she not vanished so suddenly, history would have unfolded differently. Look at it. The Holy Object they had failed to find even a trace of for so long — had it not appeared now, as if by miracle?
Moreover, this staff was not merely a Holy Object. It was the «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» legacy of the “Sovereign of the Great Ocean,” one of the most distinguished gods of ancient times. Legends described him as a mighty deity who granted infinite magical power to those who contracted with him.
The old man smiled in delight... and in the next instant turned solemn.
“It is unfortunate that I must savor this joy alone.”
Decades ago, the Society had been crushed under Luthien’s oppression, and its members scattered. He did not know whether his comrades still lived. He himself had only just returned, after years spent in Badland, hiding following his escape from his native Frontier City.
“If they are alive, we will meet again. And him as well...”
Shaking off his thoughts, he began climbing toward the altar. He had to retrieve the Holy Object before interference arrived.
“I will restore the Society.”
With that single thought, the old man extended a trembling hand and firmly grasped the staff.
———!
...In that very instant.
The staff’s imperceptible barrier reacted like an explosion.
Pressure without light or sound. The surrounding space distorted with a sharp crack, and a compressed force burst outward — as if punishing him for the audacity of his touch.
“Kha-ak!”
The old man’s body flipped several times through the air before being thrown back. Acrid smoke rose from him, searing pain surging through his limbs. His prosthetic leg was blasted off as well, making it difficult to stand upright.
Yet there was something more painful than the physical agony.
“Why...? Why do you reject me?”
He cast a resentful gaze at the staff — more precisely, at the geometric formulas and barrier patterns blocking his way. Even for someone who had devoted long years to studying ancient gods and forgotten eras, the structure was so complex it could not be deciphered at a glance.
“Damn it, I can’t read this at all.”
It would take immense time to decode and dismantle it, but—
Step. Step...
He was not granted that luxury.
Step. Step...
Sensing a presence nearby, the old man’s face twisted.
“Luthien’s hounds are already here!”
An enormous amount of legacy had already fallen into Luthien’s hands. He could not allow them to take this staff as well — the hope that had appeared after so long.
However—
“Ah...”
All he could do now was retreat. If he engaged in a reckless battle, the years during which the Society had painstakingly remained hidden would collapse in an instant. Moreover, if they had tracked him here, they would soon discover the Holy Object themselves. It was clear as day that all enemy forces would converge here. He had to withdraw at once.
“Kha.”
With bloody tears streaming down his face, the old man staggered backward. There was only one consolation: it would take them time to breach the barrier as well.
Yet the ending was predetermined.
“No...”
He retreated, but his gaze remained fixed on the staff in longing. All he was allowed was to watch the legacy he could not reach.
***
The battle proved far more one-sided than expected.
All thanks to the fact that after establishing rapport with every member of the Fourth Platoon, Gunther’s “Commander” class began to reveal its power.
[Personal scenario “A Thorn in the Side of the Executive Division” has advanced to a new stage]
Commander profession traits partially activated:
Combat and reconnaissance efficiency increased! (+8%)
Core stat correction applied to party members (+5%)
Permanent non-combat ability boost: morale, recovery, fighting spirit, etc. (+10%)
Minor synergy gained for Commander’s overall stats (All stats +2)
Command trust level increased — improved order execution and reaction speed
※ Full trust status has not yet been achieved. Prove your qualifications as Commander through brilliant leadership!
“This is only partial activation, and the buffs are already this strong?”
In the original game, “Commander” had existed as well. However, Gunther had always preferred combat classes and almost never pursued that development path. ...But here, in a game made reality, the power of “Commander,” experienced for the first time, exceeded his expectations.
“W-why does my body feel so liiight?!”
Blanc held the vanguard together with her flying shield. Core stat correction, morale, reaction speed. When such sweet buffs were poured into a tank, Blanc’s movements became astonishing.
Most shocking of all was that she fought barehanded.
“Is her class from the Monk branch?”
In <Forgotten God>, Monks mainly functioned as “evasion-tanks.” Since the shield flew autonomously and served as the pure tank, Blanc effectively handled two roles alone. With the frontline solid, the rear damage dealer naturally grew bolder.
“Hey! I feel way better than before! Just you wait!”
Tarsha shouted this as she devastated everything with lightning. Lightning magic was famed for explosive power, but its price was enormous mana consumption and casting delay. For lightning mages, mana shortage had always been the chronic weakness. However, the Commander’s recovery buff made mana control far easier.
As for Levain and Parco, there was no need to elaborate. With tank and damage dealer firmly stabilized, support classes could act freely. They continued providing timely assistance, allowing their comrades to rampage even further.
And Gunther as well... or rather, his “Masochism” contributed its share.
“Heretic! Die!”
Crunch!
A heavy mace crashed into Gunther’s leather armor.
“U-uhh!”
He suppressed his voice as much as possible so his comrades would not hear, but unfortunately the fanatic who had swung the mace heard that “sweet” sound directly by his ear.
The madness in the enemy’s eyes flickered, replaced by momentary confusion.
“W-what?”
“Don’t know, idiot.”
[Alphonse of Red Street bursts into roaring laughter]
Gunther charged forward in utter despair.
“Fine. Let’s think positively.”
Masochism was a double-edged sword. And in battle, Gunther fully experienced the sharpness of its reverse side.
A terrifying 35% pain mitigation and Parco’s steady healing. Wounds closed instantly, yet the pain continued accumulating. As a result, he could maintain the buff effect at maximum almost continuously.
“O-o-o!”
As a result, Gunther could swing his sword with unprecedented lightness and sharpness. Though his opponent was a fairly strong paladin, he did not survive even a couple of exchanges before losing his head.
[Level Up! / Lv. 52]
[Endurance 36 → 37]
[Skill Mastery “Knightly Swordsmanship” (Lv. 3) increases]
Watching him perform brilliantly as a damage-dealing tank, praise poured in.
“You’re not bad, rookie! See? Commanding isn’t just flapping your gums!”
Clearing several dozen enemies in short order became the natural outcome.
Clap!
Tarsha placed a hand on Gunther’s shoulder. This touch was entirely different from when she had told him he did not suit the Fourth Platoon.
“What’s this, Gunther? You’re not as much of a bore as you seemed.”
“......”
“In a good way! At first you were spouting nonsense about ‘looking far ahead,’ and turns out you’re such a hot-blooded man. Ha-ha-ha!”
...That wasn’t it. But before he could protest, Blanc chimed in:
“I-I think men with ‘surprises’ are good. Y-you’re a pro.”
No. That’s not—
Levain and Parco added their remarks as well.
“I didn’t know you had that side to you. Irrational and aggressive... but it’s hard to deny you fit our platoon perfectly.”
“Yeah, my previous concerns were unfounded. You’re basically Tarsha in another form.”
Gunther gave up trying to explain. Meanwhile, the platoon members continued gossiping.
“Why are his ears so red?”
“Maybe he’s the type who gets easily drunk on battle excitement? That’s human. Very human.”
“Then that cool-headed act earlier was his ‘ideal self’ or something?”
“Oh my, what a cuuutie.”
...Apparently this was their way of expressing fondness. Fine.
With a sigh, Gunther approached the gathered adventurers. They reflexively shrank back, then slowly bowed their heads in gratitude. The one who seemed to be their leader cautiously stepped forward.
“These people... they really are Luthien fanatics?”
When Gunther nodded, the man’s face twisted.
“...Cursed vermin. Outside they acted so righteous... So those horrific rumors weren’t groundless.”
While the man vented, Gunther surveyed the surroundings. No explanation was necessary to understand what had happened.
Uuuuum—
The shimmering Interfloor Portal in the corner nearby spoke for itself. The Luthien forces had oppressed the adventurers to seize it.
Gunther frowned.
“...They’re acting suspiciously bold.”
The ruling elite of the city were not the type to overlook such lawlessness. Yet now Luthien was openly crossing all boundaries.
[Luthien influence in Frontier City: 11,393]
The sharply rising influence over the past few days was troubling as well. Gunther narrowed his eyes at the adventurer corpses scattered chaotically across the ground.
“...?”
Wait.
Gunther hurriedly knelt and turned one of them over.
[Three gods let out a groan]
Parco approached cautiously and peered into Gunther’s face.
“Gunther... is this someone you know?”
“......”
Gunther slowly nodded.
