After sorting through the ancient relics in Solution's handbag, Barrett set aside the tattered scrolls covered in Ancient Elvish and Orcish script. What he found instead was the real prize—an Imperial Map Fragment.
It was a triangular piece of richly embroidered silk, its two outer edges stitched with golden thread. The patterns wove together every race under the sun: elves, merfolk, wyverns, and more, all bowing beneath the dominion of the Eight Greed Kings. Yet the center of the silk was completely blank—no words, no drawings, no lines at all.
Sebas had studied the artifact for years. His dictated notes had already proved invaluable, helping EeDechi and the others decipher the ancient runes.
According to those notes, the Imperial Map Fragment was part of a treasure map leading straight into the desert of the Eight Greed Kings. Gather every fragment, and you would uncover the power and riches that once let the Eight Greed Kings rule the world.
Still, something didn't add up. Hundreds of years had passed since their empire crumbled, yet no one had ever managed to collect all the fragments. The secrets of the Eight Greed Kings remained buried beneath the shifting sands, patiently waiting for the one lucky soul destined to dig them up.
EeDechi couldn't care less about the secrets of the Eight Greed Kings. All she wanted was to head into the Eight Greed Kings Desert, try her luck, and hunt for the resurrection item known as the "little copper can."
Barrett and Franco, on the other hand, were practically vibrating with excitement. The two of them spent day and night poring over ancient writing and diagrams on parchment and handwritten copies, searching for any scrap of a clue to the treasure. A hazy, half-imagined treasure map was always the perfect shot of adrenaline for an adventurer's spirit.
The night had grown deep. In the inn room, a brass oil lamp shaped like a wide-mouthed wine bottle burned slowly on the dark linden-wood table. Its flame danced gently inside a morning-glory-shaped glass shade, the only bright beacon in a vast, pitch-black sea.
EeDechi lay slumped over the table, eyelids half-closed, drifting back and forth between drowsiness and wakefulness. Barrett leaned into the dim candlelight, reading aloud in broken bursts from an ancient copper tablet. The round disc was pitted with rust, its surface engraved in Ancient Elvish.
"Sunlight… falls from the west, fine sand sweeps across… the millstone, forged into glittering shards of gold… flowing like a golden stream…"
Franco lounged comfortably in the leather chair, one side of his face glowing in the candlelight while the other half melted into shadow. He sat at an angle, holding forth in grand style, his arms sweeping through exaggerated gestures.
Cheeko had tucked in its limbs and curled its tail neatly beneath itself, sitting obediently on the tabletop. Golden reflections of the candle flame danced in its obsidian-black eyes. It pricked up its ears, listening intently to Franco's grand vision:
"Once I find the treasure of the Eight Greed Kings and claim all that gold piled mountain-high, I'll put together a fleet, claim a deserted island out in the far eastern sea, and build the most magnificent palace there—pure-white ivory spires soaring straight into the clouds. Then I'll gather the most beautiful slave girls from every race across the world to fill my harem…"
As he spoke, he couldn't help letting out a sleazy "heh heh heh" chuckle.
Cheeko shook its cat head, clearly disgusted by such a vulgar idea.
Insulted by a cat, Franco glared at Cheeko. He raised his wand. "You little kitty dare look down on me? I'll make you fly!"
He cast a Levitation spell at Cheeko. A beam shot from the tip of his wand and struck the cat, but Cheeko didn't budge.
"Must be too low-level a spell?" Franco muttered, switching to another incantation. "Flesh Rending!"
Another beam slammed into Cheeko, but it still had no effect.
Cheeko tilted its head at him, looking purely curious.
"Weird. Let me try a death spell." Franco pondered, raising his wand and aiming it straight at Cheeko.
"What are you doing?!" EeDechi flashed over and chopped the edge of her hand down on the wrist holding the wand. The pain made him drop the wand instantly.
"Why doesn't my magic work on a cat?!" Franco wailed.
EeDechi took a deep breath and explained, "Because Cheeko is my teammate, and you're something I summoned. You can't harm allies—so stop thinking about bullying it!"
On the street outside the inn's window came the thunder of horses' hooves clattering over cobblestones, shattering the night's quiet. Barrett set down the ancient copper tablet, pressed a finger to his lips to hush everyone, and peered warily out into the darkness.
Wind howled across the eaves overhead, as though enormous bird wings were slicing through the sky.
Knock knock knock. Someone rapped on the door. Barrett opened it to find the innkeeper standing there, lantern in hand.
The innkeeper was a kindly old man with no malice in him. He had only come to warn the guests not to leave the inn after dark. The Sorcerer Kingdom had tightened its patrols. Not only had the town curfew been pushed earlier, but the number of its Dark Undead Knights and demon wanderers had grown sharply.
Barrett twisted the air shutter on the oil lamp, shrinking the pea-sized flame to an even weaker glow. He shook the drowsy EeDechi awake, and the three of them began discussing their next move.
There was no doubt the Great Tomb of Nazarick knew roughly where they were and had spread its surveillance net wider. If they kept heading toward Re-Estize's border, the odds of running into enemies would jump dramatically.
Barrett studied the web of crisscrossing routes on the map, and a sudden idea struck him:
"The most dangerous place is the safest place. We head straight into Sorcerer Kingdom territory—E-Rantel—then take a teleportation circle from E-Rantel to the Slane Theocracy. What do you think?"
The Sorcerer Kingdom had built roads stretching in every direction to E-Rantel and forced Baharuth, Re-Estize, and the Slane Theocracy to set up permanent teleportation circles that ran straight there.
Charging right into the territory next to the enemy's lair sounded like pure madness. But after the three adventurers talked it through, they were convinced: the Sorcerer Kingdom had pulled every last soldier out to hunt them down. Right now, E-Rantel might actually be the emptiest spot in the whole realm. It was a risky move the enemy would never see coming.
The next morning, the Last Defender of the Way adventuring party turned around and marched toward the fortress city of E-Rantel.
Across the vast stretches of land, the Sorcerer Kingdom's undead army was enormous, and the surveillance net they had spread looked airtight at first glance. In truth, the holes in it were bigger than chicken eggs.
The three adventurers were nothing more than a slender needle. They slipped easily through the valley passes and the Sorcerer Kingdom's blockade, the whole journey smooth and uninterrupted. Especially as they drew closer to E-Rantel, the number of patrols and checkpoints dropped noticeably—a very good omen.