Autumn had come to the world above.

“Mm…”

As Klaha slowly opened her eyes, the curtain still veiled the window in the deep blue-black hues of midnight. The clock, however, showed the usual time to begin her routine. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up.

Dragging her drowsy body, she swayed her head lazily as she made her way to the kitchen. Filling the kettle with water, she activated the heat magic stone. Meanwhile, she placed cheap tea leaves—purchased at the market two weeks ago, origin unknown—into a teapot.

The water boiled with a bubbling sound, just as it always did.

She wasn’t using any high-end equipment that could precisely control the temperature.

After letting the water cool slightly, she poured it into the teapot, letting it steep briefly before pouring it into a teacup.

“Ugh…”

The strange flavor jolted her wide awake with just one sip.

Where in the world did these tea leaves come from? Peering into the tea canister, she couldn’t help but wonder. The aroma seemed more suited for a spice mix. Yet, she found herself wanting to buy them again. If this tea could get her sluggish self moving every morning, she was all for it.

Bacon and fried eggs, toast, and a single banana.

They say adventurers rely on their bodies… but she couldn’t eat much in the morning. She settled for something light, planning to have another small meal between breakfast and lunch.

The city outside the window was vividly blue.

Not long ago, even at this hour, the unbearable heat had tormented them.

“...Thanks for the meal.”

Cleaning up her dishes, she got dressed and headed out.

The party had the day off today.

It was time for independent training.

“Oh, impressive, young’un.”

“Holland-san.”

It happened as Klaha passed through the park during her morning run.

A man sitting on a bench raised a hand and called out to her. Thankfully, Klaha’s vision was sharp, so she recognized him even from a distance.

He was Holland, a veteran archer in her party, The Next Apex.

“Training on your own?”

Jogging over, Klaha asked.

“No, not really,” Holland replied, shaking his head. “My kids have been complaining about gaining weight, so I’m just tagging along with them. …Ah, they’re not nearby anymore. Left them behind somewhere, didn’t even notice they’d dropped off.”

Now he was just waiting for them, he added with a laugh.

“You’ve been sweating quite a bit. How far have you run?”

“At least an hour every day.”

“What about sprints?”

“Ten dashes with turns, in five different sets, varying the distances. After that, I always include ten uphill runs without using body-strengthening magic.”

“Good. An adventurer with strong legs is a good adventurer… though I don’t know if hearing that from me makes it any better,” Holland remarked with a chuckle.

“Not at all!”

“Just don’t overdo it. Sure, the church can heal most injuries, but once you mess something up, even the best healers can’t always stop it from recurring. …Oh, speak of the devil.”

“Huh?”

Following the direction Holland pointed, Klaha turned her gaze.

“A church carriage…”

“Yeah. And it’s a fancy one—maybe a cardinal’s inside?”

It was a pure white carriage.

Anyone living in this country would instantly recognize its affiliation and the organization that owned it.

It bore the unmistakable emblem of the national faith, the Church of Rustier.

Yet, the carriage they saw now was unlike the ones usually seen in town. Lavishly adorned with gold, it clearly indicated the high status of its occupant.

“What could they be doing here so early in the morning?”

“Well, church folk being early risers isn’t anything new… but it smells like trouble to me,” Holland muttered, his tone uneasy.

“No, wait—maybe they’ve finally caught on.”

“Caught on to what?”

“Never mind.”

Holland dismissed the thought, but his voice carried a hint of worry.

“Hmm?”

Something felt off.

After her run, Klaha arrived at her usual training spot, but today, she sensed an unusual presence.

Not just one or two people. Many.

This didn’t make sense. Yet, with her instincts on high alert, Klaha concealed herself.

The area was a dense forest. Though the rich summer scents had faded, enough trees remained to provide cover for her slender form.

It wasn’t plausible that random passersby would gather here.

She knew there was only one thing in this area worth naming—

“This is the highest-level labyrinth…”

“—!”

The voices she overheard weren’t those of casual travelers.

Klaha held her breath, straining to hear the conversation.

“I promise nothing,” the saint said, her voice clear and steady. “But if we find any remains, we’ll do as you wish.”

Her simple, honest reply made Klaha feel a surge of hope.

“Saint-sama!”

“It’s fine, isn’t it? It’s no great trouble.”

“But still—”

“Enough. Wishes, as many as possible, are meant to be granted.”

The saint brushed aside objections with a casual air, urging her knights forward toward the labyrinth’s entrance.

She turned once, looking back at Klaha.

“Well then,” she murmured, locking eyes with her. “We’ll be off.”

“Be careful! Please… come back safely!”

“Thank you,” the saint replied, bowing slightly, her gesture as humble as that of any commoner.

And yet, with her gentle demeanor intact, she added one more thing.

“Don’t worry. I hear I’m rather strong.”

Of course, the saint’s sense of direction was famously abysmal, and three hours later—well, let’s leave it at that.

The journey continues.