Tutril Incident 2: Attack
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—Tutril: The Explorer’s Guild—
The story rewinds a little—
"Ahhh… So the Harvest Festival is canceled this year after all…"
Inside the Explorer’s Guild, a female staff member, Liz, sighed as she sorted through documents.
"Are you still upset about that? We’re at war with the Empire. There’s no way we can hold a festival in times like these," said Eleonora, another staff member sitting beside her, exhaling in exasperation.
Every year, from late May to early June, Tutril hosted the Harvest Festival.
It was a grand event celebrated throughout the kingdom, during which entry into the Great Labyrinth was strictly prohibited.
The official reason was to express gratitude to the labyrinth, a source of diverse materials essential to the economic growth of the Nohitant Kingdom.
However, that was merely a surface explanation.
In reality, the ten-day ban was meant to restore the labyrinth’s internal balance, ensuring a stable supply of resources for future explorations.
But as Eleonora had pointed out, the kingdom was now at war with the Empire.
As a result, the demand for magical tools and the magic stones that powered them had increased drastically.
Given the kingdom’s current policy of encouraging explorers to delve into the labyrinth, shutting it down—even temporarily—was simply not an option. Thus, the festival was canceled for the year.
"It still sucks! I was really looking forward to seeing Orn in the martial arts tournament again!"
"You really are a big fan of his, huh?"
"Of course I am! He’s an S-Rank explorer, yet he’s so polite and well-mannered. And most importantly, his face is exactly my type!"
"So it’s all about looks in the end…"
Watching Liz passionately defend her stance, Eleonora let out a weary sigh.
"That’s a crucial factor! You were in charge of Golden Dawn, Eleonora, so you got to chat with Orn almost every day. I was so jealous!"
"If you were that jealous, you could’ve helped me out. You knew how busy I got, especially around the time Golden Dawn was promoted to the Hero’s Party."
"Oh, I would’ve gladly taken over the chatting-with-Orn part! But the rest? No way. The stress would’ve killed me. Especially Aneri! If she gave me that smug attitude of hers, I swear I would’ve smacked her."
"Smacked her, really? I actually found Aneri kind of cute. Like a little puppy barking to make itself seem bigger. Watching her try so hard to act tough was kind of endearing."
"Eleonora… you have a way of looking at things… But now that you mention it, ever since last year’s incident, we still hear about Orn and Luna from time to time, but nothing about Oliver, Derrick, or Aneri. You were their handler—any idea what they’re up to now?"
"…Who knows?"
"Whoa, what was that pause?! You totally know something—!"
Liz had just begun pressing Eleonora for answers when a loud crash echoed from near the entrance.
Everyone inside the guild turned toward the source of the noise.
"Honestly, is it so difficult to open a door properly?"
"The hell, I did exactly what you told me to. Now you’re complaining?"
The battered door lay flat on the floor. Through the now-doorless entrance, two men strode in.
One was a man with an air of nobility—Stig Strem, the Rakshasa.
The other was a rugged-looking man making no effort to hide his irritation—Dimon Ogle, the War Demon.
From an outsider’s perspective, they looked like a noble and his personal bodyguard.
"Apologies for the disturbance. We’re here to see Guildmaster Leon Conti. Would someone be so kind as to fetch him for us?"
Stig flashed his usual carefree smile, devoid of malice.
"Y-yes, of course! I’ll call for the Guildmaster at once, so please wait just a moment!"
The male guild staff member, mistaking Stig for a noble, hurried off to fetch Guildmaster Leon.
"Hey, pal. I don’t know what’s got you so worked up, but taking it out on property isn’t the way to go. This is the Explorer’s Guild. You don’t want to make an enemy of the guild. Once the Guildmaster gets here, you’d best apologize."
One of the explorers in the guild placed a hand on Dimon’s shoulder, speaking in a calm, soothing tone as he reprimanded him for kicking down the door.
"……"
Dimon lazily shifted his gaze toward the man.
"And that greatsword on your back—you should store it in a magic tool. You can’t just walk around with a bare blade like that. It’s dangerous."
Taking Dimon’s silence as a sign that he was at least listening, the man continued his advice.
"…Who the hell do you think you are?"
Dimon’s voice came out low and guttural, veins bulging on his forehead.
"W-What do you mean? I was just—"
Before the man could finish his sentence, Dimon’s arm blurred.
At some point, the greatsword that had been strapped to his back had made its way into his hand.
And in the next moment, the man’s body was cleaved clean in two.
The severed torso and legs fell to the floor at Dimon’s feet.
Without a shred of hesitation, Dimon extended his free hand toward the corpse.
A red-black mist began to rise from the lifeless body, swirling toward his palm, where it condensed into a small, candy-like orb.
Without a second thought, Dimon popped the orb into his mouth and swallowed it whole, letting out a satisfied gulp.
It was only then that the reality of what had just transpired sank in for the others inside the guild.
Screams erupted from every corner of the building.
Hearing them, Dimon’s lips twisted into a predatory grin.
"Hah! Now that’s what I call a scream! Man, I just can’t hold back anymore. Hey, Rakshasa—I can kill ’em all now, right?"
Dimon’s words were met with silence—Stieg had just opened his mouth to respond when—
"—Hold it right there."
A commanding voice rang out from the other side of the hall.
The speaker was none other than Leon Conti, Guildmaster of the Explorer’s Guild.
His gaze, filled with fury, locked onto Stieg and Dimon.
"War Demon, I understand how you feel, but please restrain yourself a little longer."
Calmly, Stieg chided Dimon before turning to Leon, his tone utterly devoid of guilt.
"You took your time, Guildmaster. And because of that, one of your men just died."
"…This is beyond unreasonable. But fine. His death is my responsibility—I was not here in time to prevent it. However, I am here now. And I will not allow any more killing."
Though his shoulders trembled with suppressed rage, Leon kept his voice steady, refusing to raise it.
"That depends entirely on you, Guildmaster. If your answer displeases me, I may have no choice but to raze this city to the ground."
"……"
"You only need to answer my question. No need to look so terrifying."
As if deliberately trying to provoke him, Stieg maintained his usual carefree smile.
"Then hurry up and ask. And the moment you do, leave this city at once."
"Why such hostility? One insignificant pawn was broken. Surely that means nothing to you."
"Don’t you dare speak to me using your inhuman standards. Just get on with it."
"My, such impatience. Very well, then. I shall ask—"
Stieg’s smile deepened as he continued, his voice dripping with false courtesy.
"Why did you seal the road? Because of that, we were forced to travel here on foot. You—a mere Guildmaster—dared to waste our time, we, the high-ranking members of the cult. That, Guildmaster, is blatant treason, is it not?"
As Eleonora trembled with fear, she listened to Stieg’s question, but she couldn’t comprehend what he was saying.
However, Leon, the one being questioned, seemed to understand perfectly.
"That must be a misunderstanding on your part. I haven’t sealed any roads. If you’d like, I can show you."
He answered plainly, without a hint of tension.
Stieg’s smile deepened at Leon’s response.
"I see. Then, please die."
The moment those words left Stieg’s lips, a sharp pop echoed through the guild hall.
Eleonora barely had time to wonder what the sound was before she saw Leon clutching his chest, staggering.
Blood was pouring from his torso.
"Guildmaster!?"
Someone cried out.
"Everyone… run… away… from here…"
Leon forced out the words between ragged breaths as he activated a magic tool strapped to his wrist—one entrusted to him by Kavader.
Then, he sent a telepathic message.
Selma… If you can hear me… I trust you… Protect… Tutril…
With those final words, Leon collapsed lifelessly to the floor.
Stieg, watching the scene unfold with complete indifference, finally spoke.
"War Demon, my apologies for the wait. The labyrinth overflow has begun successfully. Now, shall we begin as well?"
With a careless flick of his arm, Stieg sent countless thin beams of light streaking outward.
The luminous threads sliced through everything in their path—human bodies, structures—it mattered not.
"Finally! Been waiting for this!"
At the heart of the crumbling guild, Dimon roared with bloodlust, brandishing his greatsword.
He charged toward those who had managed to escape Stieg’s attack, cutting them down one after another.
Some of the explorers attempted to fight back, but their resistance amounted to nothing.
One by one, the people in the hall fell, their bodies littering the ground.
As Dimon indulged in his slaughter, Stieg began walking forward, unhurried.
Despite the destruction raining down around him, not a single shard of debris touched him.
His steps remained unobstructed, as if the world itself bent to his will.
And so, Eleonora’s final sight was of Stieg’s retreating figure, vanishing into the chaos.
Upon reaching the former location of the guildmaster’s office, Stieg activated a card-like magic tool.
In response, the ground before him vanished, revealing a staircase leading underground.
Without hesitation, he descended.
At the bottom, he found himself in a space that had been hollowed out into a perfect cube, measuring approximately five meters in all directions.
Once again, Stieg activated his card-like magic tool.
A magic circle appeared on what had seemed to be an empty floor.
"Hmm… At present, the path is indeed open. Yet just the other day, it was unmistakably sealed. So, rather than erasing it, someone tampered with it?"
Stieg murmured to himself, stroking his chin as he studied the glowing sigils.
"But altering a magic formation requires a deep understanding of its principles. A mere human like Leon shouldn’t have been capable of that. Then… the Sword Princess? No, she would have simply erased it rather than undertaking such intricate work. In that case, who could have…?"
Stieg’s gaze remained fixed on the magic circle as he continued musing.
"Heh. Quite the intriguing parting gift you’ve left me, Leon Conti."
For once, his usual composed smile gave way to something more entertained.
Pushing aside further contemplation, he activated the magic circle.
Its glow intensified sharply, and in the next instant, a group of figures clad in red robes materialized before him.
All at once, the red-robed figures knelt before Stieg.
Then, the man at the forefront spoke.
"Lord Rakshasa, we await your command."
"There’s been a slight addition to our tasks. Two of you will remain here. The rest—proceed as planned. Slaughter the townspeople and capture the members of Night Sky Silver Rabbit alive."
""Understood!""
With that, the majority of the red-robed figures rose to their feet and swiftly ascended the staircase, emerging onto the surface.
"And for us, my lord?"
The remaining two figures, still kneeling, inquired.
"There is something I need to confirm with Leon Conti. Retrieve his corpse from the rubble and deliver it to Lord Necromancer."
"As you command."
Upon receiving their orders, the two robed figures rose and proceeded up the stairs.
"Now then," Stieg mused, tilting his head slightly. "I suppose I’ll amuse myself by hunting down the explorers of the Night Sky Silver Rabbit. Lord Necromancer would surely appreciate a few extra bodies to work with."
His lips curled into a grin.
"As promised… I’ve set the stage for you. So hurry, won’t you? The longer you delay, the higher the pile of corpses will grow… Orn Dura."
Thus began the massacre of Tutril—at the hands of Rakshasa and War Demon, the ruthless enforcers of the Cyclamen Order.
——.