Ziel had destroyed not just walls but also ceilings and floors, confirming that this entire level was enclosed by black walls.

No matter what they tried, they couldn’t decipher the door’s magic circle. Lililia lay on her back, letting out a feeble, incoherent cry of frustration, “Aaaaahhh.”

Deciding to wait out the remaining two weeks, Ziel suffered 86 consecutive losses in thumb wrestling against Lililia.

That was when the voice called out, abruptly.

“Good day.”

This time, Ziel didn’t even bother drawing his sword—unlike when he first met Lililia.

“Who’s there?” Ziel asked first, noting the soft sensation at his shoulder, likely because Lililia had instinctively used him as a shield.

“Who’s there?” the intruder repeated in a voice full of astonishment.

“Who is it?” Ziel murmured, directing the question to Lililia, who was behind him.

“I don’t know. But they seem like a good person.”

“What makes you say that?”

“It’s a secret.”

Ziel couldn’t help but think how beautiful the voice of this married, 80-year-old woman sounded.

“Wait, wait, wait. Are you saying you truly don’t know who I am?”

The voice wasn’t too high or too low, and Ziel couldn’t even tell if it belonged to a man or a woman. Still, he tried to be honest.

“I broke my glasses, so I can’t see faces well.”

“Oh, I see. That explains it…”

“Have we met before?”

“No, but—”

Then, how would I know who you are? Ziel retorted internally. He was starting to get a hunch about this stranger.

This person seems… kind of weird.

“In that case, today, I’ll make sure to brand my artistic face and name into your brain!”

Burning it into someone’s brain would kill them, Ziel thought, not to mention that he’d already mentioned his glasses were broken. To Ziel, the self-proclaimed “artistic face” turned into a vague, abstract painting in his mind.

But then—

“I am Eunice—the Star Archmage Eunice.”

“Archmage?”

Ziel recognized the title immediately.

“Yes! I thought my face would at least be somewhat known. Ziel, the Great Hero who slew the Venom Dragon. And Lililia, the Saint who protected the island.”

Eunice lamented, “I figured we’d be aware of each other since we’re close in age.”

Ziel decided to ignore that last comment entirely.

“Saint?”

He turned to look behind him in surprise.

“Dragon Slayer?”

An equally astonished voice came from behind him.

Eunice interjected with an exasperated tone, “You two don’t even know this much about each other? What have you been doing here together?”

“Thumb wrestling.”

“Thumb wrestling! An excellent pastime. I’m undefeated, by the way.”

As Eunice eagerly approached, declaring this, Ziel stepped back to maintain some distance.

“…Am I being avoided?” Eunice asked, puzzled.

“No, it’s not that. Actually, we’re very glad to meet you, but…”

Turning to Lililia, Ziel asked, “Have you ever seen the face of the Archmage? I haven’t.”

“Neither have I. But I don’t think they’re lying.”

“What makes you say that?”

“It’s a secret.”

“And Ziel,” she added, “don’t you feel something?”

“…Feel what?”

“Oh, I guess you don’t,” she whispered, intrigued.

He wanted to press her for an explanation but knew it wouldn’t help. Right now, identifying the stranger before them took priority.

Before Ziel could ask, Eunice spoke up.

“Would mentioning Lady Klaha of the Next Apex or Captain Arinate of the Fourth Order of Holy Knights earn your trust?”

“Oh,” Lililia reacted.

“Could it be…?”

With a snap of his fingers, Eunice said:

“I extended the teleportation magic circle on the fourth layer and traced the traces of the Saintess… Lililia.”
“Amazing.”

Lililia voiced her admiration. Meanwhile, Ziel couldn’t quite grasp the brilliance, as it was entirely outside his field of expertise.

But even so.

Realizing the situation accurately, mentioning the involved names, and confidently entering this labyrinth alone—his ability, likely deserving of the title Archmage, was undeniable.

With this much, Ziel started to relax, thinking that perhaps excessive caution was unnecessary.

“What’s amazing is the two of you,” Eunice said. “Not content with just surviving, you’ve managed to delve this deep with just the two of you. Judging by ability alone, calling you both the high end of humanity isn’t far from the truth.”

“See! I told you it was the other way around!” Ziel shouted triumphantly.

“Good experience, wouldn’t you say, kid?”
“Wow, shameless.”
“Well, I also think the person who just nodded and followed everything isn’t entirely blameless. You need to take responsibility for your actions.”

Realizing he’d placed himself in an ethically unfavorable position, Ziel quickly wrapped up the topic with a hasty “You’re right, I’m sorry.” On further thought, he realized it was he who initially led them in the wrong direction. In a two-person journey, decisions are shared, and so is the blame. But in a solo journey, all the responsibility falls on one’s shoulders, making it easier to pinpoint fault.

“In the first place, the one who started going the wrong way was—”
“This is a rescue, right?”

As Ziel tried to move the conversation forward, Eunice tugged gently on his back.

“Of course. Rest assured, you’re in good hands!” Eunice puffed out his chest with pride, or so it seemed.

“That said, the teleportation magic is drawing from the labyrinth’s magical power, so we can’t use the same method to get back.”
“Then what will we do?”
“Of course, I’ll join this party and help you return to the surface…”

Eunice paused.

“But first, why are you two so deep in this labyrinth? I assumed you were stuck in the upper layers by a bad match with a floor guardian. Don’t tell me you’re trying to conquer this place with just the two of you? If so, my offer might be embarrassingly off the mark…”
“No, that’s not it.”

Swallowing his pride, Ziel admitted:

“The truth is, both of us are terrible with directions.”
“Yeah, even I have to admit that now. My own fault.”
“So, we thought we were heading up, but we were actually going deeper.”

With a deep sigh, Ziel said:

“Might as well laugh at us. It’d make me feel better.”
“Hahaha!”
“Not you, Lililia.”

“Oh, by the way, A-Chan—Arinate—how’s she doing? I’ve been worried about whether she’s mad at me all this time.”

Yet Eunice neither laughed nor answered.

“—Eunice?”
“…I see. You’re both directionally challenged.”

The tone of his voice gave Ziel a horrible premonition.

“Wait, don’t tell me—”
“By the way, totally unrelated, but…”

Eunice suddenly brightened.

“I know who you two are.
The great hero Ziel, the pure swordsman who defeated the poisonous dragon threatening the eastern forest.
And the Saintess Lililia, who created a protective barrier against the storm at the Church of the Far Reaches, saving an island from submersion.”

“That was with my master’s help…”
“That was thanks to the islanders’ cooperation…”

As the two tried to downplay their achievements, Eunice quickly interjected:

“Now, let me ask. Do you know who I am?”

Confusion.

It felt like he was deliberately steering the conversation away from something important.

“Uh, something about stars…”

Lililia began to answer, and Ziel reluctantly followed suit.

“The youngest ever certified Archmage. I’m not clear on the exact criteria since it’s not my field, but…”
“You created new magic, right?”

“Yes,” Eunice nodded.

“To be precise, the criteria are a bit more detailed, but… well, just as I wouldn’t fully grasp your specialties, I can’t expect others to understand the intricacies of mine. Achievements are easier to convey, though it might sound boastful. My youngest record? Simply because I met the right mentor early on.”

After hearing this, Ziel bluntly asked:

“So, Eunice, what about you?”
“Simply put, my magic draws power from the stars.”

Eunice continued without pause:

“My internal magic is primarily for control. Most of my power comes from effectively utilizing the magic of the stars.”

No way, Ziel thought, anticipating the conclusion.

“Of course, as a Archmage, I have some power even here in the labyrinth where starlight doesn’t reach.”

He exhaled a small sigh of relief.

“—Or so I’d hoped.”
“Just get to the point already. My heart can’t take this.”
“Oh, sure. If you insist.”

Ziel thought he noticed something then—faint and blurry without his glasses.

“My magic aside—I usually navigate by the position of the stars, so in places like this, I have no sense of direction! I’m completely useless! Please be kind to me!”

Eunice said this with what Ziel could only assume was an infuriatingly bright smile.

A directionally challenged swordsman and priest, joined by a magician.

Three clueless adventurers in one group.

If this were Bingo, they’d have won. But it wasn’t, so the adventure continued.

The three still had a long day ahead, unable to even casually discuss their next steps in camaraderie.

This was due to a single remark from Lililia:

“About that door—Eunice, would you prefer ‘-kun’ or ‘-chan’?”
“‘-Kun.’ It’s cuter.”
“Well then, Eunice-kun. There’s a magic circle drawn on that door. Can you replicate it?”
“No problem.”

“Huh?” Ziel exclaimed.

“Wait, don’t we not need to—”
“Sorry, Ziel-kun. Just for a moment.”
“It’ll be quick… Maybe step back a little.”

Eunice stepped in front of the door and said:

“〈Flow, oh Flow〉.”

Ziel heard a faint splash.

“What was that?”

“It’s nothing major. I created water to fill the grooves of the door’s surface, then pressed it to the ground without altering its shape—like folding a book’s page.”

Then, as Eunice examined the circle,

“What kind of magic cir—”

His words stopped.

“—Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Of course…”

The response came not from Eunice but from Lililia.

“Do you… know what this is?”
“It was mostly coincidence… no, maybe not entirely. But I never expected it to be so clear.”

In a voice Ziel had never heard from her in the past month, she said:

“An Apocryphal Magic Circle… and an Apocryphal Beast.
Someone might have made this labyrinth—someone connected to the Ruin King…”