“Hey! I told you to avoid using that, didn’t I? And you went and used it anyway, Tooru!”

As Tooru chewed over the complicated feelings that came with defeating his very first boss in his life, the Holy Sword Spirit Tia—who had casually finished off a dragon—strode up to him in a huff, clearly irritated.

She wasn’t wrong, Tooru thought.

The Holy Sword Lightbringer was a weapon that connected to its owner’s soul, while the Cursed Sword ‘Kagetsu’ was a weapon that fused with its wielder’s soul. They might sound similar, but they were fundamentally different things.

Dragging it out from inside his left hand felt unsettling, and the blade itself was an ominous red-black. The guard and hilt were black as well, and the long decorative cord ended up coiling tightly around his right arm.

Just as Tia had said, it was less a weapon and more a cursed tool.

“Well, you were totally absorbed in beating up the dragon. It was self‑defense. Self‑defense.”

“That’s because it’d been forever since I last fought a dragon!”

She puffed out her chest proudly, then suddenly let out an “Ah!” and moved to the far side of the large chamber at what looked like teleportation speed.

Apparently, she was going to tend to the companion of these girls who’d been captured by the black knight. Sure enough, she began chanting a spell, and light poured down onto the woman lying on the floor.

It was probably healing magic.

“Um… when you said you were lost…?”

The short-haired brown-haired woman—who, to Tooru, looked like the textbook definition of an outgoing type—hesitantly spoke up. The bob-cut woman she was holding in one arm still seemed unconscious.

“Ah… yeah. Literally lost. Not, like, lost in life. Probably triggered a teleport trap in a different dungeon and got spat out somewhere weird. We wandered around trying to escape, and ended up somewhere around the middle of the stairs connecting this boss room and the lower floor.”

“That’s… quite the coincidence…”

“Well, it was that swordswoman over there who insisted on helping you guys. Uh—sorry, you’re streaming, right? Looks like you made it through the worst of it, so maybe you should say something to your viewers. They’re probably worried.”

With that, Tooru cut off the conversation and jogged back to the stairs leading down to the lower floor, retrieving the jacket he’d been using as a makeshift wrapping cloth, still bundled up that way.

While he was at it, he figured he might as well pick up the magic cores from the dragon and the black knight—but only the black knight’s core was there.

What lay near where the dragon had died was… a single dragon scale.

It was triangular, a bit larger than a fist. At this size, it had considerable thickness—something that magic craftsmen would probably drool over.

That said, Tooru had no idea what something like this would even go for.

“Oh, that’s a rare drop. A dragon scale.”

As Tooru absentmindedly examined the large scale, Tia suddenly appeared right up in his face and said cheerfully.

“I don’t know the market price, and I don’t even know who I’d sell it to. Besides, they were the ones fighting it first, right? Is it really okay for me to just take it?”

“They would’ve died if we hadn’t shown up, so it’s probably fine. If it bothers you, you can always ask them. But really—there’s nothing more valuable than Lightbringer, you know?”

“I mean, that Holy Sword can’t even be sold.”

“Were you planning to sell it if you could?”

“I don’t like talking about hypothetical ‘what ifs.’”

He let out a small chuckle, then pulled a mobile terminal from his pocket.

He was a little surprised by the number of missed calls.

Some of the calls were from unknown numbers, but most were from the Sugai Dungeon branch. He had registered them, but had never called or been called by them before. Since he hadn’t returned from the dungeon for more than a day, it was probably a check on his safety.

“What’s that board‑like thing? You look at it sometimes, right?”

Tia tilted her head, curious. That personal communication device probably didn’t exist in her lifetime.

“Ah… it’s a magical communication device,” he summarized, not wanting to go into a long explanation. As expected, Tia tilted her head in confusion, and he ignored her for the moment to answer the call.

〈Ah—you picked up! Finally, you noticed.〉

Since the call came from the Sugai Dungeon branch, he had expected it… but hearing from Kawai Sakiho herself was still a surprise.

“This is Tooru. You need something?”

〈How can you act so casual? There’s a lot going on… You don’t know Anthem, right? The A‑rank explorer clan?〉

“Ah… I know the name, at least.”

〈No, you really shouldn’t know. You wouldn’t know that their clan ventured into a dungeon in the city, either.〉

“Huh? No, I at least know the name. They’re on TV, and I see them recommended on streaming sites sometimes.”

〈Sigh… then, can you turn around? Kagurazaka Chizuru-san—the girl with the ponytail—is pointing a camera at you. Do you see her?〉

“Huh?”

Not understanding, he turned as instructed—and there she was. The samurai girl, who hadn’t said a word, was pointing her camera at him with a half‑dazed expression.

“Hey, Tooru. What’s that? It looks like a projector, is that another communication device?”

Tia asked openly, her curiosity showing, but Tooru ignored her.

So—that explained it.

〈Do you understand now? They’re the members of the A‑rank explorer clan, Anthem. Your image is fully on the stream, and the chat is in chaos. At least I’m relieved that you’re alive. The branch chief should arrive shortly, so tell them to hold their position. That’s all. Goodbye.〉

With that, the call ended abruptly.

Come to think of it, it might be the first time Tooru had ever heard Kawai Sakiho actually say “goodbye.”

◇◇◇

To put it bluntly, it had been incredibly difficult.

For starters, the members of Anthem had been rendered useless as explorers.

The leader, Saitou Megumi, had completely broken down and was crying, seemingly unable to pull herself together. The camerawoman, Shinguu Sanagi, who had regained consciousness, began crying as well, apologizing over and over while watching Saitou sob. Kagurazaka Chizuru, the samurai‑like swordswoman, for some reason just kept staring blankly at Tooru. She seemed scary, so he didn’t dare speak to her.

Airi Midou, who had been taken as a hostage by the black knight, apparently had her injuries completely healed by Tia’s magic. When she woke up, she didn’t seem to know whom to ask about what had happened, so Tooru had no choice but to hand her the streaming camera and let the viewers bring her up to speed.

From the brief glance Tooru took, the live viewership had exceeded 120,000.

“Well, at least everyone’s safe,” Tia said cheerfully, summarizing the situation. Her comment was hard to argue with.

Still, he suspected this wouldn’t end as a “happily ever after.”

Soon after, once Airi had finished hearing the situation from the viewers, she ended the stream and bowed deeply to Tooru and Tia. Of course, having been taken hostage, tortured, and knocked unconscious, she only knew what had happened to the boss from what viewers had relayed—but still, she lavished upon Tooru about three times the gratitude he’d ever received in his entire life.

Honestly, it made him feel queasy. After all, it had been Tia who had actually saved them.

Tia, meanwhile, acted as if helping others was completely natural, and looked troubled each time she expressed her thanks. But when the gratitude persisted, she simply moved behind Tooru, and the flow of thanks shifted toward him instead.

Around that time, the chief of the city dungeon division, Sadoyama Kouji, arrived.

He seemed to have already heard from Kawai Sakiho about the situation, so Sadoyama wasn’t surprised that Tooru was in the boss room of Kamioka Dungeon. However, he did clearly show surprise at the presence of Tia. He was said to be a former A‑rank explorer… He might have immediately recognized that she was stronger than himself.

She looked no older than about twenty. The way she asked Tooru about every curious thing made her seem like a middle schooler, but perhaps those with good eyes could tell her strength. Well, Tooru wasn’t exactly one of them.

Anyway.

After managing to calm the now-useless members of Anthem and stop their tears, they began retracing their steps out of Kamioka Dungeon under Sadoyama’s guidance.

Sadoyama handled all the monsters along the way. Tooru felt strange being able to follow Sadoyama’s movements as he battled. In the end, the group managed to leave the dungeon without a notable accident.

The sky he saw for the first time in a while was a starry expanse, completely free of clouds.

At the dungeon entrance, someone claiming to be Anthem’s manager had their van waiting. The members of Anthem each expressed their individual thanks to Tooru and Tia before climbing into the vehicle.

“Anyway, it’s already late. Let’s leave all that other stuff for tomorrow,” Sadoyama said, his face etched with exhaustion.

Gone was the aura of a formidable figure who once intimidated Tooru—what remained was just the weary resignation of a middle manager, which somehow made Tooru feel a strange sense of familiarity.

“Um… I left my car at the Sugai Dungeon parking lot, so… would it be okay if you gave me a ride there?”

“Of course. Actually, I left my car at the branch office too, but I had a light van arranged so I could give you a ride. You’re more than welcome to take it,” Sadoyama said with a smile, letting Tooru into the van.

Oddly enough, he didn’t say a word about Tia. It was as if he were completely ignoring her—so thoroughly that it felt almost deliberate.

When they arrived at the Sugai Dungeon parking lot and Tooru prepared to get out, Sadoyama spoke apologetically.

“In this matter, there are aspects where the fault is on our side, and we can’t deny that. I’ll make sure to apologize and offer compensation, as far as my authority allows. If possible, it would help if you could be reachable. Of course, you can take a break from your ‘Cleaner’ job. By before noon tomorrow, we should be able to get in touch with you. Take your time and rest.”

Even though Sadoyama likely had a much clearer idea of the trouble ahead than Tooru did, he still showed genuine concern for him. Tooru found himself impressed.

He must be a proper adult.

To be more precise, a mostly proper adult.

Since Tooru was not one himself, he silently decided to grant Sadoyama his respect. Not that it would earn him a single cent.