"So boring~"
Surtr muttered, her eyes glazed with disinterest as she watched the three figures ahead—each guarded against the others, yet forced to cooperate.
"Not entertaining enough? Suspicion and mistrust between people, their struggles and compromises—this is a timeless play," Grim replied, studying the scene with genuine curiosity.
"Besides, isn't this rather similar to us? You want to borrow my ability to sort through your memories, yet at the same time, you're wary that I might take advantage of your lapse in vigilance to harm you."
"…You really don't hold back with your words."
"I prefer to call it honesty. After all, only sincerity can win sincerity in return."
"…Disgusting."
"Haha! Adventure and companions—that's all part of what makes traveling worthwhile, isn't it?"
---
"Big Bob, are you certain that once we secure the treasure, those bounty hunters will actually leave?"
"Of course, Miss Carol. If not for the treasure, who would willingly stay in this rundown little village for so long? …Ah, apologies. That was careless of me."
The man clad head to toe in protective gear had been trying to dispel Carol's doubts with more conviction, but in his haste, he'd forgotten she was the village chief of waterdrop.
The air grew awkward.
"Oh, oh, oh~ Surtr, look. Now things are starting to get interesting."
"Your taste is truly low," Surtr said with open disdain, casting a sidelong glance at Grim, who was eagerly scribbling down notes.
Suddenly, a silver silhouette appeared before the group.
The Calamity!
Ishar-mla!
Both Big Bob and Grim cursed inwardly at the same time.
This treasure hunt might be doomed… No, I can't let down the brothers who follow me.
Why has Ishar-mla found me so quickly? Granted, my true intent was to use this vessel to secretly observe Its movements, but why did It come straight to me? Could this body already be caught in Its trap? Should I attempt to flee first?
Grani, however, had no such complicated thoughts. Instead, she asked aloud, her tone filled with puzzlement:
"Skadi? Wasn't I the one who received this commission? Why are you here? Are you on another mission?"
But there was no answer from Skadi.
Step by step, she advanced toward the group.
"Hand them over."
She's here for me.
Both Grim and Carol realized it at the same time.
Just as Grim prepared to push his source-arts—Presence Erasure—to the limit and escape with the overwhelming physical prowess of this vessel, he suddenly sensed something was off.
Though the aura of Ishar-mla was present on her, it was strangely inactive.
From his time spent unwillingly among the Seaborn, Grim knew these beings occasionally entered hibernation when lacking nutrients. But a higher Seaborn like Ishar-mla should never be subject to that.
Ishar-mla was constantly in flux—changing, correcting, changing again, correcting again.
Accumulating superior traits little by little, endlessly adapting to Its environment.
Always active.
Yet the figure before him… its mental fluctuations were only somewhat active, nothing at all like Ishar'mla's constant, frenzied turbulence, as if the creature's nerves were perpetually twitching.
What's more, Grim realized—the target seemed to be the village chief of waterdrop Village.
What's going on with Ishar'mla? Was it… restrained?
Instead of feeling relieved, Grim grew even more vigilant.
If Ishar'mla had truly come for him, Kashchey still had a card to play: the identity of a "kinsman." He could force a sense of kinship, deceive it with a few words, and avoid conflict.
But if it was like those few in Yan—those who spent all day scheming about how to suppress, enslave, or kill great beasts—then Kashchey had to treat this situation with utmost seriousness.
Such people were rare across the land, but they existed in nearly every nation.
And with Kashchey's knowledge of this world still limited, there might be dangers hidden in the shadows that could truly threaten his life. It was almost certain that someone, somewhere, was secretly developing weapons specifically to counter him.
After all, hadn't he been too high-profile?
To them, his existence was living proof of their worst fears: a foreign, eternal being who would forever stand above all others—an immortal "other."
They never saw great beasts or Feranmuts or undying ones as part of their own kind.
---
Still, Grim had no intention of startling the snake in its hole. He decided to probe a little longer.
He concealed his hostility and killing intent flawlessly.
Skadi, unaware of any malice from him, instead moved to seize Carol by force.
Suddenly, another band of bounty hunters appeared.
"Hand over that villager," declared the hunter codenamed Captain.
For the sake of treasure, he was ready to risk everything. Not even the so-called Calamity, that monster from rumor, would keep him from chasing wealth.
"Men, move! There are so many of us here—do you really think we'll fear just four people? Whoever catches that villager, I'll see they're richly rewarded!"
At his command, the surrounding bounty hunters swarmed.
For many who lived with their blades at others' throats, nothing outweighed wealth.
A life of poverty and misery forever—or a brief time of luxury, ending in a sudden death mid-battle.
Each man had already chosen his own answer.
And besides, Captain thought grimly, a hundred against four—we hold the advantage.
After seeing the traces of battle left behind, he had deliberately gathered nearby bounty hunters to form a temporary force of one hundred, ensuring his success in snatching the treasure even from the Calamity's grasp.
---
"Shall we intervene?"
"A proper traveler never interferes in the affairs of the locals."
Amid the rising tension of the battlefield, two figures stood strangely out of place. The bounty hunters unconsciously avoided them, as though their very existence had been erased.
"Your Originium Arts are impressive—affecting so many at once."
"Of course. Without a guarantee of survival, I'd never dare set foot outside my door…"
Just then, a bounty hunter was struck flying by Skadi and hurled straight toward Grim.
Thankfully, his body's raw strength was more than enough; with a single palm strike, he sent the man crashing away.
"This… was just an accident. You have to understand—my Arts only diminish our presence. They can't exactly change someone's trajectory mid-air."
Meeting Surtr's mocking gaze, Grim could only offer a somewhat awkward explanation.