"Abyss Watcher Legion peace?"
Stella showed a surprised expression. "So it's finally starting?"
"Starting what?" Gapar asked in return.
"The final campaign, of course. Among all the areas currently in Sein, the only one that hasn't been cleared yet is the Undead Legion, right?"
In truth, the forest region's boss also maintained an undefeated record. However, since it lacked a particularly memorable story and its appearance was… a bit too frightening for children, its popularity wasn't very high.
On top of that, Bazelgeuse and other dragons would occasionally provoke it. Even the Great Jagras dared to fight it over territory—though it would immediately run away afterward. This gave people the impression that the forest boss didn't possess the same absolute dominance over its domain as the Undead Legion or the Death Rite Bird, lowering its perceived authority.
As a result, adventurers didn't even really treat the Lion as a proper boss.
Still, its popularity was far higher than that of the Death Rite Bird—the latter was simply far too ugly.
"…Hmm."
Stella suddenly fell into thought. Gapar didn't interrupt her—he knew she would speak soon enough.
Sure enough, she began murmuring to herself:
"Last time Sein was cleared, it mutated just a few days later. The entire layout changed drastically… so what about this time? After sending off the Abyss Watchers, will something new appear? Or will there be another major shift?"
Gapar couldn't answer that. He hadn't experienced the original version of Sein Dungeon or its first transformation.
But… another change?
To him, change was a good thing. He was already getting tired of the scenery around the magic academy. A few new areas wouldn't hurt.
"Hopefully, by the time I come back, there'll be some new maps to explore," he said with a smile.
"What exactly are you going off to do?" Stella asked curiously. Since he had delayed it for so long, it didn't seem like something urgent.
Gapar gently stroked his sword. After a moment, he said:
"Protect world peace."
"…Huh?"
Stella had no idea what he meant—but before she could ask further, Gapar had already waved and left.
"What the heck."
She puffed up her cheeks like a disgruntled squirrel.
"Do all old people like talking in riddles?"
She watched him leave, her gaze drifting out the window.
The Academy Gate Town was getting livelier by the day. The foot traffic was now nearly comparable to Bedford City's commercial district, and there were even cases of adventurers having nowhere to sleep.
Colorful tents dotted the area, and no matter where you sat, you could hear heated discussions about Liurnia of the Lakes.
"I found a spring that spawns EXP candies—if you throw monsters into it, it speeds up the spawn rate. But if you interrupt it, the candies disappear. Want to team up?"
"Anyone want to explore underground? Our party still needs a healer!"
"Hey, which theory do you think is better—the elves' or the professor's? I support the professor."
"I think the elves' theory isn't bad either."
Hearing those last two lines, Stella's expression turned complicated. After a long pause, she covered her forehead and sighed.
Then she picked something up from a pile of firewood scraps—
A newspaper?
Bedford Weekly, a local publication dedicated to reporting news.
A few months ago, it had been barely surviving. There simply wasn't enough noteworthy news around the city, so they had to scrape together trivial matters just to fill an issue.
But now, everything had changed.
Ever since the Sein Dungeon underwent its transformation, Bedford Weekly had practically become "Sein Weekly."
Information about the dungeon flooded in, quickly replacing all previous content. Even now, a single issue couldn't contain everything—they kept adding pages until they reached the limits of what they could afford.
Recently, however, the paper had been completely dominated by the elves and the magic professors.
The reason?
A clash of ideologies.
The Magic Association professors, represented by Set, believed that magic grows stronger through continuous development.
Meanwhile, the elves, led by Wienma, firmly supported the idea that "older is stronger," along with natural magic.
Naturally, conflict was inevitable.
Set's philosophy was that magic should adapt to the caster.
Even the same spell should be modified and fine-tuned to suit the individual—even if that meant sacrificing power, duration, or effects.
Wienma's philosophy was the opposite: the caster should adapt to magic.
If a spell was difficult to use, then choose another one. She rejected the idea of weakening magic just to make it easier to cast.
At first glance, her theory seemed less convincing—but there was evidence supporting it.
This world hadn't just lost history—it had also lost a vast number of ancient spells.
And all research into ancient magic showed that spells from earlier eras were actually stronger and more effective than modern ones.
It was said that the earliest magic came from the blessing of the God of Magic—so-called "Primordial Magic." Each represented the pinnacle of its domain.
Modern magic, derived from those origins, had been altered to suit casters—and inevitably weakened in the process.
Among the elves, there existed a form of ancient magic close to those origins. Anyone who encountered it tended to believe in the "older is stronger" theory.
Anyway—
Wienma and Set had already clashed back when she was still a professor. Now that they had met again in Liurnia, conflict was inevitable.
Their method of competition?
Surprisingly childish:
Whoever gained more supporters would win.
So, centered around the newly discovered magic academy, the two sides—both seasoned scholars—began holding all kinds of activities.
Lectures, magic demonstrations… even outright throwing money.
Literal piles of money.
Why the academy?
Because both sides believed the magic found there supported their theories.
Set pointed to the various branches of glintstone sorcery—like Glintstone Pebble, Swift Glintstone Shard, and Glintstone Arc—as proof of adaptive modification.
Wienma argued that magic derived from the stars was inherently closer to nature itself.
What Stella saw as a farce had started the moment the academy was cleared.
Now, it had escalated into both sides offering free training to their supporters. If you backed their theory, you got guidance—like some kind of charity program.
Because of their antics, the Sein Dungeon gained even more attention.
Conflicts between magic professors made for great headlines, and aspiring learners eager to receive guidance from experts traveled from far and wide.
Stella found it ridiculous.
But then she thought—not my money, not my problem—and let it go.
If her aunt wanted to make a fuss, so be it. After being cooped up in the forest for so long, maybe it was good for her to get some fresh air.
As for herself…
She flipped through the newspaper. Near the back were recruitment ads from adventurer parties, listing required roles and target locations.
"Liurnia underground, Caria Manor…"
"Great Tomb—Demi-Human Swordmaster Onze…"
"Forest region—Hunt the Fire Dragon…"
As she read, her thoughts grew messy.
After thinking carefully, she realized—
She had been thinking about the Abyss Watchers the whole time.
With the Sword Saint involved, success felt almost guaranteed. And she didn't want to miss such an epic moment.
Once he left, assembling a team strong enough to challenge them would be much harder.
"I should go find Darrick and see if I can join."
With that thought, Stella excitedly left the house, planning to visit Darrick's farm.
However—
Darrick and his squad were still in Liurnia.
At that very moment, they were battling the Crystalian.
"Roar—!"
Laser bugs fired beams downward at an incredible rate, while several figures riding giant wolves weaved through them.
They had no protective barriers.
They were dodging purely with speed.
This was training.
Darrick was among them—but unlike the others, he wasn't relying on his wolf. He moved solely on his own two legs.
Looking closely, one would notice—
He hadn't even activated his wolf blood.
The other guards had all activated theirs. Only in that state could they match his level.
The last time he checked his level at the bonfire, Darrick had reached an astonishing level 57.
When he first appeared, he had been under level 40—a typical silver-rank adventurer.
Now, he was already qualified to apply for gold rank at the guild.
With wolf blood activated, his stats would surge even further—likely reaching level 70.
Compared horizontally, that already surpassed Leon, who was around level 60.
"…This isn't enough."
He tilted his head slightly to dodge a laser, frowning.
Even though the enemy was the Crystalian, he imagined it as the Abyss Watchers.
At the start of battle, the laser bugs fired faster than the Watchers.
But after ten minutes, when the Watchers got serious, their speed surpassed even that.
The elite squad—Wisk, Klan, and six others—were all above level 35.
Without a doubt, they were silver-rank.
If they needed wolf blood to dodge the lasers, it meant they could survive briefly against the Watchers—but real combat would require teamwork.
If they had more time, they could push everyone past level 40 and improve their odds.
But…
Gapar was about to leave.
There wasn't much time left.
They had no choice but to face it head-on.
Can we really defeat the Abyss Watchers at this level?
He exhaled deeply, shaking off the doubt.
His eyes sharpened, locking onto the Crystalian.
As its teleporting form began to materialize—
He activated wolf blood, leaped high into the air, and struck down like a ruthless wolf.
The already weakened Crystalian finally fell, ending its pitiful role as a sparring partner.
Behind him, the boss's body slowly faded.
Darrick glanced at his student ID—the first star had fully lit up, meaning he had learned Basic Attack Magic, a spell from Frieren that he still hadn't really used.
"Everyone, get a good rest today. Tomorrow—we set out."
He tightened his grip on the Farron Greatsword.
Amid the tension, his heart surged with excitement.
It had been a long time since he last saw the Abyss Watchers.
This time—He would show them just how much he had grown.