“I see,” Sebekton said, closing the thick, ornate-covered tome he had in his massive cwed hands, the very same history book Viktor had given him several weeks ago, before pcing it gently on a nearby chair. “A group of powerful adventurers might show up and attack us at any moment.”

  “Yes, exactly.” Viktor nodded, fingers drumming on the table, his chest still heaving with rapid breaths after all the running.

  He had just been teleported to the Core Room by Celeste, only to find his trusty Guardian already there. Slouched in an enormous seat built specially to accommodate someone his size, the Crocodilian was engrossed in his book, voraciously devouring every line of text. Viktor wasted no time in briefing him on what he had learned—Azran, Clint, the Dungeon Reavers, everything—while Sebekton sat there and listened, still as a stone. Then, with unflinching calm, he closed the book as if nothing at all were on fire. In fact, Viktor could see a glint of excitement in those slit-pupiled eyes.

  [Master, what do we know about these intruders?]

  “If you’re asking for hard facts, then all we’ve got is a guy named Clint and another named Bjorn.”

  [That is not much to work with. We cannot exactly make a pn with so little information.]

  “Tell me about it,” Viktor muttered. “Time is not on our side. I couldn’t afford to stay and gather more intel.”

  After he came to a conclusion about the four adventurers, he said a quick goodbye to Cedric and rushed out of the inn. He sprinted back to Alycia’s shop, asking her to tell Cire he wouldn’t be able to make lunch today, and to buy something for the two of them to eat. He would have to come up with a good excuse for his “sister” when he got home tonight, but that was the least of his worries at the moment.

  “However,” he continued, “we can still make a few deductions about them.”

  Sebekton gnced at him. “What kind of deduction, Master?”

  “The Dungeon Reavers need to clear the dungeon as quickly as possible. They’ll storm in, seize the Dungeon Core, and make their escape before the Guild or the other adventurers catch on to what is happening. Therefore, they need to form a party specifically designed to counter our dungeon. And that means...” Viktor drew a breath. “We can deduce their team composition by analyzing what they know about us.”

  “I see.”

  “They know about Azran and Lahmia’s failure, so it’s safe to assume they know how the battle unfolded. In other words, they know about my fire trap, as well as you and your part in that fight. They should also be aware of other publicly avaible information. Manfred’s defeat, the water realm, the merfolk. And the Cyclopes, of course.”

  “But they don’t know about the Acolytes,” Sebekton said. “No adventurer has ever encountered them.”

  That was true. But if the Dungeon Reavers were worth their salt, they should have prepared for the possibility of the Acolytes of the Deep already being in the dungeon by now. And Viktor needed to pn with the assumption that they had done just that.

  [What do you think their party will be like, Master?]

  “Let’s start with Clint. The guy is an archer,” Viktor said. Well, there was literally a bow next to his seat. “But there is something odd about his arms. His right arm, presumably the dominant arm, is noticeably bigger than his left. Probably the result of years spent drawing heavy war bows. However... the bow he carries is just a normal hunter’s bow. Not a longbow, not a composite bow. Definitely not something that could make his arm look like that. Unless... it’s not what it appears to be.”

  Sebekton leaned forward. “You mean...”

  “A Reliquary.”

  Of course, it was also possible that Clint had lost his usual gear for some reason and just grabbed a cheap repcement. But that didn’t make any sense. After all, this was an important mission. He had to bring the best equipment he could afford.

  Ugh, if even a rogue has a Reliquary, this is going to be ugly.

  “Next is the hooded one,” Viktor said, leaning back in his chair as he recalled the details. “I didn’t see their face. Couldn’t even tell whether that was a man or a woman. But judging from the body frame, probably someone skinny. Not a frontline fighter, then. And having two rogues in the same party is just weird. So, a mage. The same can be said about the guy in the tunic. Which means, two mages.”

  If he assumed the four adventurers were about the same rank as Azran, meaning a party of four Gold-ranked adventurers, then it was about right. A team of that level typically had two or three mages.

  “Knowing that they have two mages is certainly helpful,” Sebekton said, folding his arms. “But the question is, what kind of mages?”

  Viktor shrugged. “It’s impossible to know for sure. But as I said, we can make an educated guess. Let’s see... If I were building a team to conquer this dungeon, who would I choose? An aeromancer is the most obvious choice. They can fly and lift their teammates into the air, bypassing the water realm easily. Now, as for the second mage... A pyromancer wouldn’t be very useful, so they’re out. A Riftwalker... no, Clint said that there was a spot for Azran in their team. If they already have a Riftwalker, why invite the bald man? An Emerald Mage may not be vital, but they are a well-rounded mage, useful in any situation. So, maybe. Lastly, a Cabalist...” The realization dawned on him. “Yes, a Cabalist of the Lidless Eye. They would be a great choice to deal with Cyclopes.”

  Unlike Lucian, whose magic specialized in taking control of his target’s body, allowing him to stun a Cyclops for a few seconds, a Cabalist could actually control the mind. The one-eyed brutes, not being the brightest creatures around, were susceptible to that kind of magic. And if the intruders could dominate a Cyclops, they would not only neutralize a defender of the dungeon, but also gain a powerful ally on their side.

  “So,” Sebekton said, nodding slowly. “A wind mage and a mind controller?”

  “Those are the ones I would have picked if I were on their side. Now, stly, the man with the helmet...”

  Clint had told Azran about “Bjorn’s offer,” so most likely that was the name of their leader. A Brefjordian name. And the man did look like someone hailing from the North. Blond hair, pale skin, a stern face, and a braided beard. All typical traits of the northern folk.

  “...he’s the most troublesome one,” Viktor said.

  Being the leader, he was probably the most powerful, and the highest-ranking adventurer in that group. He might not be just a Gold.

  “Why, Master?”

  “He’s a warrior.”

  “And?” The Crocodilian looked at him, puzzled.

  “At lower ranks, mages have absolute advantages over warriors. After all, warriors, in the end, are just some guys with weapons. They are not you, Sebekton. Their strength and endurance are limited by their frail human bodies. Mages who can summon fire to incinerate their enemies or wind to bst them away are vastly more powerful. And the Gold rank is the peak of mage dominance. Mages at this level have such overwhelming power that there is nothing warriors can do to compete, no matter how hard they try or how skilled they are. That’s why most Gold-ranked adventurers are mages. However... once we move beyond that, to the realm of Mithril and Adamantite, the situation reverses.”

  “Why, Master?”

  “Reliquaries. Those artifacts are great equalizers. Now, everything the mages can do, the warriors can do as well, and maybe even more.”

  “But,” the Guardian asked, still unconvinced, “Reliquaries can be used by anyone. Sure, they’ll close the gap a bit, but wouldn’t giving one to a mage just make them even more powerful?”

  Viktor chuckled. “That’s not how it works. Let’s say there is a pyromancer, who is best at, well, throwing fireballs. Now we give him your axe, for example. Just picture it. Seriously, what the hell is he supposed to do with it? He can’t even lift the damn thing. And if, by some miracle, he manages to swing the weapon, all he could achieve is toss around some weak-ass projectile. No, he should stick to his fire tricks. The Reliquary’s far better off in the hands of someone who actually knows how to fight with axes.”

  Sebekton’s eyes gleamed with understanding. “That makes sense.”

  The introduction of Reliquaries had drastically shifted the power dynamics between mages and warriors. And the main reason was how easy it was to train someone to use these artifacts. Again, take Sebekton’s axe for example. While it was too heavy for any human to handle, the earlier version, Redhead’s axe, could be wielded decently by any well-built fighter. Sure, some Reliquaries might be trickier to master, but the training was still quite short. By contrast, it could take aspiring pyromancers years to be able to throw a proper fireball without burning their own hands.

  And the ease of training led to the ease of finding repcements. A powerful warrior with a full set of Reliquaries could retire, pass on their gear to a chosen successor, and just like that, instantly you had someone nearly as good. On the other hand, losing a high-level mage meant losing the decades of investment poured into them, and waiting like twenty years for their apprentice to catch up.

  Reliquaries also provided flexibility. Mages were basically stuck with the tools they had. They couldn’t acquire new spells without dedicating more time and effort. Meanwhile, warriors could switch their skills at will. They could bring various equipment suited for different environments and swap them out depending on the situation.

  And now, it was exactly this flexibility that made the intruders so troublesome. Viktor could make a guess about the types of mages the two spellcasters were, and therefore, predict the abilities they had. But Bjorn and Clint? Knowing that they had Reliquaries didn’t help at all. He had no idea what they could do. All he knew was that they must have been prepared for this dungeon, so they should be good at killing merfolk, Cyclopes, and maybe even Acolytes of the Deep.

  “The man you mentioned,” Sebekton said. “You believe that he’s a warrior who is even more powerful than the mages. So he must possess several Reliquaries, right?”

  “Two, maybe three,” Viktor replied. “Let’s assume the worst and consider the possibility he’s a Mithril.”

  Actually, the worst-case scenario would be that Bjorn was an Adamantite. But if that were the case, there would be no point in making pns, as he would have absolutely nothing in his arsenal capable of dealing with someone of that level.

  [Master.]

  Viktor frowned as Celeste’s voice suddenly echoed in his mind. He had a bad feeling about this.

  [Four adventurers have just entered our dungeon. I don’t recognize them, so this must be their first time here. However, they are moving very fast, so I suspect they are the intruders you are talking about.]

  He closed his eyes shut, and shifted his vision to the first floor, where Celeste had directed him. As soon as he glimpsed the four advancing adventurers’ silhouettes, he immediately realized who they were.

  “They’re already here,” he said. “Prepare for battle!”