The Protagonist’s Party is Too Diligent – 105
EP.105 Encounter (1)
Various thoughts crossed my mind. Would this device only heal wounds? What if someone with an incurable disease stood near it—could it heal that, too?
…Set those pointless thoughts aside, there was something more concerning.
It made sense that this device didn’t include shop or forge functions. If it sold items, who would collect the money? And even if it had the ability to upgrade weapons, it would take hours, if not days, to complete. No one would have the patience to wait for that while standing around here.
What truly bothered me was something else entirely.
In the game, recovery devices placed throughout dungeons served as navigational markers, ensuring players didn’t lose their way. While the game’s earlier stages typically had straightforward paths to follow, later dungeons became more labyrinthine, leading even experienced players to wander aimlessly at times.
To address this, the developers introduced this waypoint system in later installments.
Initially, recovery devices remained inactive until the player approached, at which point they powered up. Once activated, they stayed illuminated until the dungeon was cleared, signaling, “This path has already been taken.”
Frankly, in a game that thoughtfully provided a minimap, it was hard to imagine anyone actually getting lost.
But in this reality, had things changed? Could it be that this recovery device had been operating for thousands of years already?
If not…
It might mean someone had already passed through here.
I turned my gaze toward the boss room’s door.
It was a massive stone door, designed to open outward. In the original game, it was never locked—approaching it within a certain range would trigger it to open automatically, presumably through some form of magic.
“Are you ready?”
I turned around and asked.
Claire, who had been curiously examining the dungeon interior, Alice, who had been inspecting the recovery device, and Leo, who had been quietly watching all this unfold, turned their attention to me. Even Bella, leaning casually against the ancient wall as though disinterested, glanced over. At some point, she had stowed the relic back into her bag, though its light still seeped faintly through the fabric. Yet, with the recovery device’s brilliant glow dominating the room, the relic’s radiance hardly stood out.
“This seems to be the deepest part of the ruins. If the ancients who built this place wanted to protect it—”
“…Then there must be a powerful security mechanism or a guardian within.”
Alice interjected, glancing once more at the recovery device.
I nodded.
Whether it had reactivated because someone passed by, or whether it had been functioning uninterrupted for centuries, one thing was clear: its durability was extraordinary, capable of remaining fully operational after such an immense passage of time.
It wasn’t just the device. The remarkably preserved state of the ruins and the fact that the perception-distorting magic over this site still worked spoke volumes about the immense strength of the civilization that existed long before the Empire.
As I double-checked my weapon, the others also examined their gear. Though all three wielded swords, their fighting styles differed. Alice carried a broad two-handed sword with a wide blade that could double as a shield. Leo and Claire’s swords, in contrast, were slimmer and lighter, seemingly designed for one-handed use.
Even within the Grace school of swordsmanship, Leo’s technique was more straightforward and linear, whereas Claire’s movements were trickier and more unpredictable.
Still, the fact remained—they were all sword wielders.
Should I be the last to enter? That thought crossed my mind, but then I reconsidered, thinking about the shotgun I was holding. Since it wasn’t a weapon that allowed for precise control, firing from the rear could risk hitting the others.
Bella’s swordsmanship was entirely different from the others’. While she used a sword, her effective range was closer to mid-range combat. Entrusting the rear to Bella wouldn’t be a problem.
Well, if anything went wrong, I could always turn back time.
“Are you ready?”
I asked, and they all nodded. Watching the three of them grip their swords firmly with both hands, I stepped forward toward the door.
The moment I placed my hand on it—
“Ah.”
A voice of astonishment came from behind.
From the point where my hand touched the door, light began to spread outward, drawing intricate, circuit-like geometric patterns that radiated momentarily before fading.
Despite the brief display, it was clear that the light had triggered something.
Moments later, the door began to grind open with a low rumble, the sound of stone scraping against stone.
I felt a faint vibration underfoot as grains of sand trickled down from the ceiling. For a brief moment, I worried the structure might collapse, but then the door fully opened with a heavy thud.
Beyond it lay a brightly lit interior.
Given all the slimes we’d encountered throughout the dungeon, I had assumed the boss inside would also be a slime.
In part, I was right. The slick, slimy residue covering the floor was similar to the dissolved remains of the slime Lena had fought before.
That’s right—it was a corpse.
“…A person?”
Standing in the middle of the room, amidst the wet and sticky ground, was a person.
No, more accurately, there were people.
“Hah, unbelievable.”
Bella muttered under her breath.
“…Father?”
The voice that followed, trembling with disbelief, was Alice’s.
“…Father? Alice’s?”
Claire’s astonished voice came next—
“Then…”
Leo, too, murmured in shock.
Before us stood a man, towering at least a head taller than me, his broad shoulders commanding attention even in this surreal setting.
His golden hair, impeccably groomed and parted neatly, gleamed even here, in the depths of the dungeon. Though he hadn’t shaved his beard entirely, the neatly trimmed facial hair along his jawline added to his immaculate appearance.
Despite his youthful impression, he exuded neither lightheartedness nor frivolity. Instead, his sharp blue eyes, cool and composed, radiated an air of gravity and inscrutability.
“I went to some lengths to prepare a surprise for my daughters,” he said, his tone light and conversational even in the presence of an ominous foe. “But alas, it seems an uninvited guest has ruined my chance to deliver a proper welcome.”
Even as the atmosphere tensed, the Emperor remained startlingly composed, almost jovial.
“Y-your M-m-m…”
Leo, who stammered like a scratched record stuck on repeat, finally blurted out.
“Your Majesty!?”
It was a reaction that would surely have been scolded as disrespectful if it had happened in the imperial palace.
However, our Emperor seemed entirely unbothered by such matters.
“Are you one of the children of the Grace family? This is the first time I’ve seen your faces in person.”
The Emperor’s demeanor appeared somewhat nonchalant as he asked.
The red cloak he wore gleamed faintly, light seeping out from within. It seemed he had also brought along an imperial relic of his own.
“…Did you leave the enemies behind on purpose?”
I asked.
“If I had left a clear sign that I passed through, you wouldn’t be so surprised right now.”
The Emperor smiled as if he had recognized my surprised expression.
“……”
“We’ll catch up later.”
At this, Leo exhaled sharply, almost gasping. Indeed, being born into nobility wasn’t always a simple or comforting matter. Then again, compared to being caught in some diluted lineage, being born into a properly noble household seemed far preferable.
Even as these idle thoughts crossed my mind, I raised the shotgun—already loaded in the chamber—and pointed it at the opponent standing before the Emperor.
The figure facing the Emperor… It was hard to gauge their age. Judging by their slender frame, it didn’t seem to be a man. Unless they were deliberately disguising themselves, the figure was unmistakably female.
A plain white mask covered their face, with only two hollow black eyeholes. Beneath the mask, a black hood extended downward.
The hood connected seamlessly to a long robe, giving them an appearance not unlike those wielders of glowing sabers from a famous space opera franchise. The hem of the robe was tattered, adding a weathered look to their otherwise stark silhouette.
The line from their shoulders to their hips was slim, and their chest—though concealed beneath the robe—protruded noticeably. Even at a glance, it was clear this individual was female.
She stood there silently, not even a breath escaping, her stillness as unnerving as it was absolute.
In her hand, she held a sword. Like the one the Emperor wielded, or the greatsword Alice carried, it was a long, double-edged blade. However, this one was heavily worn, with numerous chips and cracks along its edge.
“……”
As I observed the figure standing unmoved before the Emperor, utterly unshaken, one thought crossed my mind:
Who is she?