Chapter 51

“Once the story progressed that far, the rest was like fitting puzzle pieces together. We can assume that Hunt and Mora’s disappearance was achieved by using a Return Stone. In other words, Mora was on the side setting the trap. So, what about Hunt?”

As I spoke, Bent leaned forward, likely without even realizing it.

“In that sealed room right before the disappearance, Hunt was saying things like ‘The Shadow is here’ and ‘Mora has already been killed.’ If we start from the premise that the disappearance was via a Return Stone and that no ‘Shadow’ exists…”

“Then automatically, Hunt also falls onto the culprit’s side. That’s right; that was the conclusion we reached back at the camp,” Watch said, nodding repeatedly as if recalling the moment.

“B-but, Hunt—my son—ended up dead, didn’t he?” Bent argued with a groan.

“He did,” I replied. “Furthermore, the first victim, Brad, was Hunt’s mentor. It’s safe to assume they had a relatively close relationship. If you consider that Mora and Hunt were both on the side of the culprits, combined with the fact that Hunt died later, the true nature of this incident becomes clear.”

“It’s a miserable story, but the essence of this case is simple: a falling out among thieves,” Shirona muttered softly.

“No…”

As Bent stood there speechless, I continued in as gentle a tone as possible.

“That said, we didn’t have solid proof for any of this yet. It was just a faint inkling—at least at that point. There was no evidence, and I was basically coming up with it as I spoke. But the moment I voiced those thoughts, things began to move. Naturally, I wasn’t the only one thinking. The elite adventurers here were all considering various possibilities, and my rough sketch of the truth acted as the trigger.”

At that, I turned my gaze toward Jin.

“So, Jin, would you like to go next?”

“Fine by me, though it’s not much of a story,” Jin began, taking over the narrative. “Even before I heard Van’s sleep-deprived rambling at the camp, I already suspected Mora. In my case, it wasn’t logical deduction like Van’s; it was mostly professional intuition.”

“How did intuition lead you to decide Mora was suspicious?” Kirio asked, after signaling for a refill of her empty hot wine.

“The truth is, this happens quite a bit—parties falling apart and killing each other. I’ve heard stories about it plenty of times, and I’ve been caught in it myself about three times. Based on that feeling, I predicted the culprit—or the ‘culprit side’—was likely a single person. Think about it: our mutual trust had shattered, and everyone was exhausted.”

“That’s true,” Watch added with a dry, blunt remark. He didn’t mean any harm; he was simply that kind of person.

Jin didn’t seem to mind.

“But even without all that psychological warfare, my gut told me that if there were two or more traitors in a party of this caliber, they could have suppressed everyone in a single surprise attack. The fact that they chose to wear us down gradually felt like the work of a lone actor. However, it seemed strange for a lone culprit to dispose of Hunt and Mora simultaneously through a ‘sealed room disappearance.’ Usually, a solo killer picks people off one by one. Therefore, the disappearance was a farce. But if those two were working together, my premise of a ‘lone culprit’ would crumble. The answer was simple: one of them was being used. And between Hunt and Mora, who is the easier mark?”

Jin shot a quick glance at Bent.

“Sorry to say, but it’s Hunt. He was out of his league. You have a noble playing at being an adventurer as a hobby versus a veteran who has survived countless dungeon crawls where betrayal and murder are common currency. So, I figured Mora was the mastermind. And if that was the case, I realized she was likely still monitoring us from somewhere while we rested at the camp. If you’re alone, you can’t feel safe unless you’re watching your prey. In fact, she probably faked her own death specifically so she could watch us without being seen.”

I could understand that feeling. Just as we feared her, Mora feared us—skilled adventurers. We weren’t helpless prey; we were dangerous tigers capable of killing her if she made a mistake.

“There’s a perfect tool in that dungeon for spying.”

“One-way walls,” Shirona provided the answer.

“Exactly. You can monitor everything from behind a transparent wall and even hear voices.”

I remembered the time I heard voices through the wall—specifically when Hunt and Mora were in that sealed room. The sound had been perfectly clear.

“If that was the case, it would be dangerous to discuss Mora being the suspect or any other vital information near a wall. That’s why, when Kijiitsu screamed, I saw it as a good opportunity to call everyone to the center of the camp, far from any walls. It was a close call, because that was exactly when Van started talking about Mora being suspicious. I’m glad I gathered everyone in the center.”

It was true. If we had spoken near a wall, and if a one-way partition had been nearby with Mora listening, the situation might have unfolded quite differently.

“Anyway, at that point, my view and Van’s aligned. We decided to whisper among ourselves so Mora wouldn’t hear us from her hiding spot. Once Van and I explained the situation, everyone was convinced. Of course, if we had only whispered, Mora would have gotten suspicious, so we made sure to shout unimportant things loudly as camouflage.”

“So, at that point, did everyone share the common understanding that Mora was the culprit and that no one currently in the camp was a traitor?” Kirio asked, pressing her fingers to her temple and staring into space as she tried to organize the facts.

“Yes. However, since it would be bad if Mora sensed we were onto her, we agreed to keep acting as if we still suspected each other. If she found out, Shirona would be in the most danger.”

“Yes,” Shirona said, taking over as her name was mentioned.

“Mora does not want us to leave the dungeon. Her lifelines for keeping us there are the destruction of our trust and the existence of the Poison Lizards. Specifically, the fact that I, the medic, could not be trusted was the deciding factor. Because of that, we could not go up from the camp.”

“But looking at it from the other side,” Henya interjected, “it meant that if our trust was restored—even if only on the surface—we could potentially break through the dungeon and return to the surface.”

Shirona nodded silently.

“That was why I knew that if the culprit realized our trust had been restored, I would be the first target. I didn’t know who the culprit was, but I could predict that much. So, while I pretended to be mixing medicines at the camp, I wrote down my predictions and a proposal for a countermeasure on a piece of paper, and used that paper to wrap the medicine.”

“I was startled when she handed that medicine to me, though,” I said, unable to help but laugh as I recalled the moment. “I honestly thought she had decided I’d finally lost my mind. But once I opened it and saw what was inside, I made sure to show the text to everyone—as naturally as possible.”

“He-he. It was actually pretty unnatural,” Henya pointed out.

“Yeah, well…” I scratched my head, having no comeback for that. My face felt hot.

“In truth, I intended to identify someone trustworthy and give it only to them,” Shirona continued, “but after hearing Van and Jin talk, I decided I should show it to everyone.”

“So, what was this proposed countermeasure?” Kirio asked, looking intensely curious.

“Before we get to that, there is something else. The note wasn’t just about the plan. I also wrote about Eni.”

“Oh, right!” Kirio’s eyes widened as she turned to Eni. “Now that you mention it, Eni had already gone missing by that point, hadn’t she?”

“That’s right.” Eni puffed out her chest with a smug grin. “So, allow me to tell you exactly what the master pyromancer Eni was thinking, what she did, and how she saved everyone’s lives.”

“Just get on with it already,” Kirio snapped, clearly irritated.

An irritated Kirio was terrifying. To me, especially so.

“Instead of thinking about who the culprit was, I spent my time thinking about who the culprit wasn’t.” Eni didn’t even glance at the annoyed Kirio—in fact, she seemed to be pointedly ignoring her—as she rested her hand on my shoulder again.

Honestly, it was bad for my heart, and I wished she’d stop. Kirio’s eyes were narrowing into slits.

“In other words, I was looking for someone I could trust. When I thought about it carefully, assuming the culprit’s goal was our complete annihilation, there was only one person I could truly rely on.”

“And that was Shirona,” Watch noted, his face genuinely puzzled. “Well, yes, if you think about it, it’s obvious. In fact, even given the abnormal circumstances, it’s almost strange that none of us besides Eni realized it until now.”

“Exactly. If you think about it calmly, it’s common sense,” Eni said. “Since Shirona was entrusted with treating our wounds from the start, she could have killed us all simply by using poison. For that matter, even back when Brad died in the first incident, if Shirona had really wanted us all dead, she could have easily wiped us out by poisoning everyone’s food and just taking the antidote herself.”

It was true. Furthermore, even if Shirona were the culprit and her goal wasn’t our total annihilation, she still wouldn’t be a threat to those of us who knew we had no reason to be targeted for murder.

“So, while no one was looking, I went and had a direct talk with Shirona. She was incredibly guarded at first, but I managed to make it work.”

“It’s a miracle Mora didn’t overhear that conversation,” Jin said, stroking his tense face, looking horrified in retrospect. “If she had heard you, she would have made killing you and Shirona her top priority.”

“We definitely got lucky there,” Eni admitted. “Anyway, after our talk, we decided to pull a fast one on the culprit.”

“And that ‘fast one’ was…” Kirio began to nod, her sharp eyes finally softening as she put the pieces together.

“Right. I took a generous supply of Poison Lizard antidote from Shirona and headed for the surface alone. If the culprit’s plan relied on us being unable to ascend because we couldn’t trust Shirona, then me secretly trusting her and cooperating to reach the surface was a blind spot. They might just let me pass.”

“Even so, that was a massive gamble. I guess that’s an adventurer for you—you’ve got serious guts,” Henya remarked, letting out a sigh that was a mix of admiration and exasperation.

I felt the same way on that point.

Perhaps it was because they were adventurers, but they took actions that would be too terrifying for a normal person to carry out. Most people, even if they knew that staying still was like being slowly strangled by a silken cord, still wouldn’t be able to choose such a dangerous path.

The ability to move anyway—that is what defines the race known as adventurers.