bookworm

A BRISK LABYRINTH BUSINESS
The Tempest Founder’s Festival had ended in a resounding success. Those hectic days of preparation and festivities were now a good ten days in the past.
Our VIP visitors, as well as the common folk who visited from neighboring countries, were already gone. The same was true of Fuze and the king of Blumund; they had hurriedly made their departure, promising to discuss matters once they had returned home. Gazel, the dwarven king, had left in a similar rush to build the science-and-technology research team he was planning to send my way.
Meanwhile, Elmesia, emperor of Thalion, was nice enough to purchase one of the lodging houses in the swankiest district in town, near our reception hall. She had a teleportation circle installed in one of its rooms, ensuring she could visit anytime she wanted. That’s the rich for you. When they buy into something, they go all the way. I still remember the superiority-laden smile Elmesia gave the clearly jealous Gazel—chances are he’ll march right back to Dwargon and have their treasury authorize the cash to purchase one of our villas.
Maybe I should be thanking Elmesia. Even better, she agreed to continue employing our local people working there, under the same conditions. Rigurd was handling all the details—arranging for regular cleaning, meals when Elmesia was staying, and so forth.
“Of course, next time I pay a visit, I’ll do so by transferring my consciousness into a homunculus. That might prevent me from enjoying myself to the fullest, but—”
“Your Excellency, we cannot allow such selfishness!”
Once again, the mere fact that Elmesia left her nation’s boundaries sent shock waves across Thalion. Not that it was any of my business, but in Erald’s eyes, it must have been unbearable. Simply mobilizing the Magus, the top-level knight forces protecting Elmesia, presented huge national-defense concerns, apparently.
“Ah, I see. Would that apply to Elen, too…?”
Elen, being Erald’s daughter, was elven herself, although her ears were the regular, rounded human sort.
“No, Elen can visit in person. Homunculi have their flaws, after all. Spending too long in one can have adverse effects on one’s own body.”
“Your Excellency! Please do not reveal state secrets such as this!”
As Elmesia had let me know on the sly, Elen had been using certain potions to change her appearance and travel the world unhindered. This alarmed Erald enough that he apparently assigned a small army to stay in the background and guard her unnoticed.
By the way, it turned out that her companions, Kabal and Gido, were both Magus members, too. Shocking, I know. So after all that whining about deploying the Magus outside the country, he assigns two of them to guard his own daughter? Erald’s such an overprotective father.
“Really? But they didn’t look like anything impressive to me…?”
When I ran Analyze and Assess on Kabal and Gido before, they seemed unremarkable in terms of strength. But when I asked about it, Erald just frowned.
“This is also confidential, but fair enough. Their abilities are actually being restricted by the magical rings on their fingers. Their restraints are lifted only when Elen is in truly, truly mortal danger.”
That was kind of a surprise. So Thalion’s magical tech was a level beyond what Analyze and Assess told me? That said, my Analysis skills back then were a far cry from the accuracy I enjoyed now. Maybe I’d notice the concealment this time around. For that matter, maybe I should stop resting on my laurels just because I analyze something once. Next time I see those guys, they’re definitely being scanned again.
“Please take good care of my daughter, then.”
“Okay! See you later!”
With that, Elmesia and her crew headed back for Thalion, riding a ship pulled by a Dragon Lord for protection.
By comparison, the demon lord Luminus had it easy. With her vast magical force, she could cast Spatial Motion as much as she wanted, so she just poofed her way back home. Apparently, she’d contact me later about the musician exchange we talked about.
Hinata, meanwhile, was still in town, watching the kids study at our church and helping out with battle training. Right now, we had no really suitable teacher for those children. Hinata had been busy keeping the peace in the Western Nations with her paladins, but now we’d be helping out with that, taking over the southern portions, and that opened some time in her schedule.
“If you like, would you mind helping the kids a little? I’m good with magic and everything, but I’m not so hot at teaching.”
“Sure. This town’s been added to my list of Warp Portal destinations, so I can watch them when I’m free.”
She gladly accepted the offer, and believe me, I was elated.
I never had any intention of giving the children back, really. Now that I had my concerns about Yuuki, I figured it’d be better to keep them away from the Kingdom of Englesia for a bit. That’s why I brought them over to Tempest, and luckily, the festival was a good excuse for that.
Their school transfer had already been arranged, which was a blessing in disguise, since it was getting hard to provide much guidance for them in Englesia’s academy. Now that I had Combined them with their elemental spirits, they had grown to be pretty darn strong. They were too much for any normal teacher, and it was about time they had a real instructor watching them.
Yuuki himself mentioned that paladins were a good match for spirits. I kind of inadvertently turned the conversation toward the spirits as we spoke, but looking back, he must’ve known about my plans from the start. I think I was intending to keep that a secret—
Report. You were keeping it a secret.
Y-yeah, I sure was.
And my blabbing it seemed to have rankled Raphael a bit.
I mean, c’mon, it was gonna come out either way. You’re focusing on that too much. No need to get too worried about it.
……
Right. Sorry. I had already heard some disquieting things about Yuuki, but I blurted it out anyway. Maybe part of me really wanted to believe him. But I made him privy to things he didn’t need to know about, and I regretted it now. I’d need to be more careful next time.
Thus, I would be taking responsibility for the children’s care—and given the situation, Hinata’s assistance was a godsend. Through the festival, the kids had really taken a shine to Hinata, and I had no problem with her taking the job. But Hinata as a teacher, huh? Maybe I should join the class, then.
So I was seated alongside the rest of the kids as Hinata coldly glared at me.
“What are you doing here?”
“Oh, you know, just observing…”
“Well, you’re in the way. Go.”
“Um, okay…”
And so I was unceremoniously kicked out of school. A real shame.
In the midst of all this, we’d been all wrapped up from the festival for about a week’s time. Things were calmer on the streets again, and the townspeople now had more time on their hands.
So I decided to perform our test launch of the Dungeon now that we had finished fine-tuning it. More than a few adventurers were excited about exploring it; we had already gotten a large number of requests, and I wasn’t about to disappoint them.
It was the start of a busier time than ever for me.
………
……
…
On the first day of our Dungeon’s soft opening, problems erupted after only a few hours. It turned out that the challengers were a lot more inept at tackling it than I thought. This was something I predicted when we first revealed the Dungeon at the Founder’s Festival, hence why we lowered the difficulty level. But everyone was taking so much time advancing through the chambers—making me realize that something needed to be done soon.
There were no traps in the first floor. Any naturally occurring monsters who might show up were ranked F at the most—total wimps with no real fighting skills, creatures your average villager on the street could pummel. I designed it to help people get used to the labyrinth’s atmosphere, so all it really contained were rooms with treasure chests and monsters guarding them. But I had already removed the traps Ramiris set up, so if you wanted to reach the next floor, you couldn’t count on a handy pit trap taking you there—you needed to make a map.
Even with everything involved, I figured the first floor could be conquered in a day of holing up in there at the most, no matter how slow you were. But in the past three days, the number of parties that made it to Floor 2 was zip. Even Basson’s team gave up after getting hopelessly lost on the first floor—they had already experienced just how big the labyrinth was, but I guess they didn’t bother taking any measures against it.
It was really just exasperating, but if anything, Basson was on the more decent side. Some of the parties were getting killed by the D-ranked monsters I had as room guardians. In fact, not some—a lot. The common theme was people lured by the treasure failing to notice the guardian creatures lining the rooms. I bet even the skeletal archers I had in there were surprised. They had all these adventurers sprinting toward the chests, giving them the chance to shoot them in the backs over and over again.
We’re talking a complete lack of fundamentals. No risk management. But at least those fools were smart enough to form groups. Because just when you think you’ve run into the biggest idiot, another one comes along to show that you’re nowhere near rock bottom yet. Yes, some were even tackling the whole Dungeon solo. That’s beyond reckless and well into the realm of hopeless.
You wouldn’t encounter too many monsters on Floor 1; as mentioned, random encounters were restricted to F ranks only. But even F-ranked monsters could be a threat if you had a big enough group of them. I guess. I mean, I wasn’t entirely sure about that, but to them, they were a threat.
Seriously, if you’re tackling this solo, even finding a place to rest was a challenge. Nobody was keeping guard for you. You’d have no chance to get some shut-eye. And even an F ranker wasn’t completely helpless. Some of them weren’t shy about attacking sleeping humans, so letting your guard down spelled death. I wondered if the solo questers had some ingenious scheme to handle this, but no—I don’t think they really thought it through at all. It was hopeless, and they all were whisked out of the Dungeon without anything to show for it.
Clearly, at this rate, they’d never be able to survive the deeper levels. Floor 2 saw more random encounters in the corridors, including E-ranked monsters. By the time you make it past Floor 5, I think you’d be seeing D rank, even. If they’re getting tripped up at this point, any D-ranked monster would’ve mangled them with one swipe.
Among the more head-scratching cases were people who quit for the most pathetic of reasons—they had no food and got hungry. Save points were located on every tenth floor, and every fifth featured a safe, monster-free zone with drinkable water. We also amply warned people to bring a decent supply of food with them. But no. The other adventurers must’ve looked at the example Basson set for their own preparations, but clearly that was not enough. Adventurers tend to be proud people, I suppose, and they definitely weren’t into listening to instructions. A fair number of them didn’t even bring any rations along—maybe they felt safe, knowing they could be resurrected, or maybe they overestimated their own strength. I don’t know, but regardless, they couldn’t find their way back to the exit, so no wonder they started starving.
Clearly, they had it coming.
And I mean, I get it. I know people want to retrieve as much as they can from the treasure chests here. But if I was seriously intent on killing my challengers in this labyrinth, I don’t think anyone would conquer it in a hundred years.
Still, most of this first wave of customers were broke bodyguards and mercenaries looking for a quick buck, none of them with much exploration experience. No need to panic yet, I thought, as I watched things unfold for three days. But in the end, not a single party made it to Floor 5’s safe zone. I could barely stand to watch.
………
……
…
We made money from their admission fees, at least, so it was no loss for us. But if this keeps up, it’ll kill adventurers’ enthusiasm, and we’ll lose any shot at repeat traffic.
I figured we needed to reevaluate things from the ground up. This was far beyond expectations. I just wanted to bury my head in my hands.
So I called for an emergency conference.
This consisted of Veldora, Ramiris, Masayuki as an observer, and me; I also invited Mjöllmile as the main businessman behind the Dungeon. Once everyone was present, I spoke first.
“Well, it’s been about three whole days since we opened the labyrinth, but I think it’s safe to say the results have been unsatisfactory. Or really, just crap. If we want this to be any fun at all—um, I mean, if we want our user base to keep coming back to the labyrinth, I think we’ll need to give them some guidance.”
The way things were going, I wasn’t sure anyone would even reach Floor 10. Everything about my plans for this place was in stasis. My conclusion: We needed to offer at least a little bit of strategic help for our users, or we’d never get anywhere.
“Indeed! Rimuru is right. At this point, I’d need to wait until the end of time for anyone to reach me.”
“True, true. And I want people to see all my masterpieces below Floor 50. I think people deserve some hints!”
Along those lines, Veldora and Ramiris were in agreement. Masayuki was still thinking—or really, just standing there confused. I guess he wasn’t too sure why I called him here. The invite came kind of suddenly, so I couldn’t blame him—but he was bound to get into the swing of things soon. I’ll call on him, then.
I turned my eyes from him to Mjöllmile, who looked pretty excited about getting to meet Masayuki the Hero. Maybe that’s why he so eagerly spoke up once he noticed my gaze.
“May I offer my impressions?” Mjöllmile asked.
“Anything’s welcome,” I said. “Give me your worst.”
He nodded. “You mentioned offering hints, but I’d like us to approach that with a soft touch. It’s still only been three days, and our challengers so far have all been from the lower ranks. We’ve asked the Free Guild to invite more seasoned adventurers for us, so I think we’ll see more rated C and above from here on.”
“You think that’ll work out?”
“I do. I have trouble figuring out Sir Yuuki’s motivations sometimes, but he’s always true to his word. He’s been sending magical communication to advertise to Free Guild offices worldwide on our behalf.”
“Yeah, it’d benefit the Guild, too. Anything else?”
“Yes, I’ve been using my own connections with other merchants. We’ve been reaching out to more talented bodyguards, as well as their friends. According to the feedback I’ve received, we’ve had quite a good reaction so far.”
Relaying the news and gauging the results were both key. I had asked Soka, leader of Team Kurayami, to work with Mjöllmile and help him on those fronts. The two of them had led the labyrinth presentation together. Mjöllmile was always good when dealing with people, and they had quickly broken the ice. I was glad to see there was no discrimination involved there.
Soka’s team was now following Mjöllmile’s instructions—and actually, Soei was as well. At the moment, Soei was tracking the movements of Duke Meusé and the people around him, but when that didn’t occupy him, he was meant to help advertise my nation a little. Now rumors of the Dungeon were spreading even to little country towns, places not big enough for a Free Guild post.
“So you don’t think it’ll be too late if we wait for some more talented challengers to travel here from afar?”
“Exactly. We’ve only just kicked this off. In my personal opinion, we shouldn’t expect instant results! Better to settle down and focus on our long-term future. And once the noble ranks worldwide begin to invest in us, we can expect to see challengers ranked B and above before long.”
Mjöllmile certainly sounded passionate. Masayuki gave him some appreciative nods, which made him visibly grin. He must’ve been bursting to show off to the Hero.
But he did have a point. Maybe all Veldora’s and Ramiris’s complaining was making me feel a needless sense of urgency. Even Basson’s band was rated B as a team. With their current equipment, the individual members would rank about a C or C-plus at best, not exactly outstanding. Once we started seeing single party members ranked B or above, I figure they’d be used to labyrinth work without too many hints. Money bought you safety in this maze, so even if we didn’t walk them through every step, I’m sure they’d be able to figure things out through their own experiences.
“Right. Guess there’s no need to panic, then.”
The labyrinth was generating a lot of interest. There were magic crystals, as well as other materials, to harvest from fallen monsters. A lot of people would enter the labyrinth as a way to earn a little spending money, no doubt. And the nobility was even more eager to dive in, it seemed, including some very sensible ones who’d enlisted adventurers back home to go conquer the Dungeon for them. Those kinds of adventurers wouldn’t let greed steer them off course—they’d fully prepare, set up goals, and execute a plan of action. They’d be the minority, for sure, but we figured their numbers would grow in time.
“So what should we do now?” Veldora asked.
“We have a front desk set up in the first floor. Maybe we could offer some guided experiences?” I said.
“Experiences? What d’you mean by that?”
Ramiris wasn’t the only confused-looking one.
“I mean,” I explained, “we could set up a training area that lets you test things out a little. Teach people about traps, have them train in battle with monsters, those kinds of things. That’s a lot more meaningful than just giving out tips, isn’t it?”
I’d also like to set up a gym of sorts, to help us train all the new Tempest recruits we’ve seen lately. It was impossible to get accidentally killed in the labyrinth, so I think it’d be pretty useful to have.
Then a rather unexpected person offered their agreement.
“In that case, maybe you could offer some courses in conquering the labyrinth, too.”
It was Masayuki nonchalantly chiming in. I looked at him, surprised.
“Oh, should I not have butted in?”
“No, no, you’re fine!”
“Ah, well, good. This is a topic I could contribute to a little bit more, so I thought I’d speak up.”
He grinned. He was adapting faster than I thought, but then again, he always was bold like that.
“What kind of classes, though?”
Would we have a big band of adventurers sit down in our meeting hall? Setting up times to give a rundown on the labyrinth seemed worthwhile.
“You know, kind of like video game tutorials.”
“Tu…torials? What are those?”
“It sounds like a dessert. Is it good?”
Veldora and Ramiris pounced on the unfamiliar word. I assumed Veldora had the vocabulary to know it, but maybe not. Languages in this world translated pretty well in my mind, but that auto-translate function only worked if both members of a conversation had a common understanding of the topic.
If Veldora didn’t know what it was, Ramiris certainly had no chance. So Masayuki and I had to explain the concept of a game tutorial.
“I was picturing something like an obstacle course.”
“Yes, like Rimuru said, I think it’s important you experience some of the basic moves you’re expected to know before you enter the labyrinth. If we offer quick rundowns on the basics and divide it into missions, I think that’ll help adventurers retain knowledge better…”
Adventurers wouldn’t gain much from lengthy lectures. A training ground available to all wouldn’t see a lot of use apart from the hard cores. So went Masayuki’s logic—and why he thought a mission-based structure was a good idea. Before being admitted inside, challengers would get to complete a simple set of missions, ensuring they had the barest knowledge required to challenge the labyrinth.
Veldora and Ramiris listened on, looking more and more convinced.
“Yes, that may just work. For my part, allowing this cavalcade of fools to tumble in and die simply bores me. Let us grant them a training area, so their skills can be at least somewhat up to snuff.”
“Yeah, I think so, too! ’Cause if Milim saw this, she’d be so angry that she’d send all these challengers up into the clouds!”
They seemed all for it. And so did Mjöllmile.
“And perhaps after this ‘tutorial,’ we could offer them a line of Tempest-brand weapons and armor to try their hand at. And if some challengers are facing more difficulty deeper down, a set of tougher missions could perhaps be of some benefit?”
This was some really helpful feedback. In fact, maybe we could even release a guidebook. It’d help advertise the town. It could be fun to have some qualified writer tackle that task for me.
Regardless, this lack of labyrinth experience was killing our challengers’ efficiency. Let’s give them at least a few instruments to work with. Otherwise, we’d never find anyone capable of handling Floor 50 and below, when the difficulty really started to ramp up. Plus, for people who really wanna get serious, we could even offer a few “experiences” that get down to the nitty-gritty of Dungeon survival.
Of course, the real Dungeon began at Floor 50, and at first, we planned for Hinata’s Crusaders to be our main customers for those levels. For now, at least, we couldn’t expect much of anything from our adventurers, so Ramiris and Veldora would need to be content having the paladins to toy with.
Thus, we decided to renovate Floor 1 into a general training area. I also made sure to provide a separate entrance and exit for our new soldiers, in addition to the one for Dungeon challengers.
“Yes, that does sound like a good idea. Right. I’ll make it this instant!”
Ramiris was ready to start work, and since we were all in agreement, I was about to wrap up the meeting. But:
“Oh, wait a second, please. There’s something else I’ve noticed.”
Masayuki spoke up again, his eyes sparkling.
“So right now, the only inns and taverns are in the safe zones, right? Don’t you think we ought to offer them on each floor instead? And it’s kind of a pain if there’s no toilets or anything. If you can connect different spaces together anyway, I think it’d be nice to set up a door near the stairways to each floor or something that leads to these facilities. Some adventurers aren’t even bringing a sleeping bag with them, so even if you charged a premium, I think you’d get a lot of customers, you know?”
What?
Is this kid a genius?!
And toilets, huh? I no longer had any need for them, so it completely slipped my mind. All this useful feedback was flooring me. I turned to Ramiris; she confidently nodded back.
“Yes, Masayuki! I’ll take that advice, too!”
“Ah, Sir Masayuki, your observational skills astound me. Such insight!”
“Mm-hmm! I’ll get rid of the safe zones and set up a door leading to a rest stop near each stairway!”