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HELIO SCANS
[Translator - Hestia]
[Proofreader - Kaya]
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Chapter 58: Dungeon Management
Even after receiving a response from Cron, Raere—the master of the Crimson Mage Tower—still couldn’t bring herself to believe it.
Deploying a force of a thousand soldiers to manage a dungeon meant that somewhere within that territory, a gap would open up.
That kind of sacrifice might be acceptable in times of peace between friendly factions—but right now? The empire was fractured, split between rival powers.
A move like that would be blood in the water, a blatant invitation for someone to invade.
There was no way the Lord of Cron didn’t realize that.
In fact, for all she knew, this might be a setup—a baited statement meant to lure attention, only to spring a trap when another territory tried to strike.
Raere didn’t trust it for a second until she saw those thousand soldiers with her own eyes.
’Just wait. Any minute now they’ll claim some sudden ‘problem’ in their lands and back out. Bastards…’
She’d dealt with too many dungeons, too many lords. Years of firsthand experience had forged her ironclad distrust of the nobility.
No matter what they promised, until boots hit the ground, she considered Cron a no-show and made her battle plans accordingly.
Then, a few days later, her student burst into the tent, shouting.
“M-Master! They’re here!”
Raere raised an eyebrow, deadpan.
“Who’s ‘they’? What is it this time, a Goblin King crawling out of the dungeon?”
Zeke looked like he’d seen a ghost.
That made her more suspicious—he always overreacted.
“Cron’s soldiers. They’re here.”
“…Seriously?”
“Yes! Really!”
She didn’t wait for another word—she stormed out of the tent to see for herself.
And there they were. A full legion: one thousand soldiers and knights, standing in formation.
Their banners bore the silver dragon—the sigil of Cron.
It was almost unbelievable. And then, approaching her, were two figures: one unfamiliar, one all too familiar.
The first was a silver-haired young man, strikingly handsome, and clearly the Lord of Cron. The other was someone she knew well.
“I am Calyx Cron, Lord of Cron. An honor to meet the Master of the Crimson Mage Tower.”
“I am Raere Siallenis, Master of the Crimson Mage Tower. I offer you my thanks for your cooperation, Lord Cron.”
This was Raere’s first time seeing the young lord in person.
Silver-haired, radiant, and youthful—he practically glowed with benevolence. His presence gave off a sincere warmth that made him seem genuinely good-hearted.
‘No, don’t get swept up. I've seen plenty of lords with gentle faces and sweet smiles.’
She reminded herself not to be fooled. Appearances meant nothing.
Over the centuries, she’d met too many of these “reformist” types—idealistic, young nobles who all ended up chasing power and popularity in the end.
Still, she gave her greetings and turned to the familiar face standing beside him.
“It’s been a while, Master.”
“Yes… it has, Sharon. You look well.”
It had been five years since Raere last saw her student.
Back then, Sharon insisted she was doing fine, that she was traveling and helping people—but Raere could see the cracks. The girl had been barely holding it together.
But now, she looked brighter, more grounded. It was obvious.
Raere couldn’t help but quietly add a few more points in Lord Calyx’s favor.
＊ ＊ ＊
Thanks to the soldiers from Cron, Raere was finally able to begin a full-scale dungeon management operation.
Soldiers were stationed alongside mages from the Crimson Mage Tower in areas surrounding the dungeon where monsters frequently appeared. The zone around the dungeon's gate was reinforced with even more precision, since it was impossible to predict exactly where monsters might be summoned.
With the monster threat now under control, the Crimson Mage Tower mages could finally begin proper dungeon analysis work.
And Cron hadn’t only brought soldiers.
“I heard that food supplies were already sufficient. So instead, we brought wine, cheese, and consumables like potions.”
“Woohoo! Wine!!”
“Cheese—finally! It’s been so long! Thank you, my lord!”
Basic provisions had already been supplied by neighboring lords.
But delicacies like wine and cheese? Completely absent. The mages had been quietly suffering.
Thanks to Calyx’s delivery of wine and cheese, the mages of the Crimson Mage Tower were finally able to unwind, raising their glasses and finding renewed energy to continue their work.
With the lord personally stepping in to support the Crimson Mage Tower and providing various forms of aid without hesitation, the area surrounding the dungeon quickly came under full control.
It had been a long time since dungeon management had gone this smoothly…
Raere, watching everything from above, thought to herself.
Flying beside her, Sharon spoke up.
“What do you think, Master? Our lord—he’s a good man, isn’t he?”
“Yes… I’ll give him that. He’s the most lord-like lord I’ve seen in a long while.”
Raere believed in giving credit where it was due.
Calyx Cron was, by far, the most responsible and committed lord she’d come across in recent times.
Not like those other bastards who ignored her pleas.
Pleased, Sharon beamed with pride.
“Right? Isn’t our lord just different from the rest?”
“Why do you look more pleased about the compliment than he would?”
“Because when you praise him, it’s basically like you’re praising me. So don’t hold back, Master.”
Raere was both surprised and intrigued by how proud her student looked, smugly puffing up her shoulders in defense of her lord.
Sharon was her niece.
Raere’s younger sister had also been an elf mage—just as gifted as Raere herself, and one of the most promising among their clan.
But then she’d fallen in love with a human knight, and everything unraveled.
Even now, the continent harbored deep prejudice against half-bloods—but fifty years ago, it had been far worse.
Her sister had eventually gone into hiding with her human husband. Together with other outcasts, they formed a small settlement to live quietly.
But the settlement was destroyed by purist attackers. Sharon’s parents were killed.
Before her death, Raere’s sister had asked one thing: if anything were to happen to her, to protect her daughter, Sharon.
And so Raere had taken her in and raised her in the mage tower as her student.
Traumatized by her parents’ death at a young age, Sharon had lost some of her memories.
Raere, thinking it best for her, had deliberately never tried to help her recover them.
Because of that, Sharon believed her parents were just a normal elf and human couple who had met and married in the village.
Eventually, Sharon had set out, saying she wanted to help people.
Raere, knowing all too well how rotten the human world was, had tried to stop her.
But Sharon insisted, and from that point on, each time they met, she seemed more worn down, her light dimming.
Raere had even resolved that, the next time they met, she would forcibly keep Sharon at the Tower—believing if she stayed out there any longer, tragedy would strike again.
But then word came: Sharon had become a personal mage to a noble.
At first, Raere had worried she'd been taken in by some shady nobleman.
Yet now, watching Sharon smile and proudly speak of her lord, Raere felt… a bit of relief.
At least her student—her niece—seemed to have met a decent lord and was living a good life.
Raere mentally added another point to Lord Calyx Cron’s score.
Just then, Zeke came flying toward them.
“Master! Lady Sharon! The dungeon analysis appears to be complete!”
“Understood. Let’s head down, Sharon.”
“Yes, Master.”
＊ ＊ ＊
Inside the Crimson Mage Tower’s command tent, everyone involved in dungeon management had gathered. Once Raere and Sharon entered last, the investigator from the Crimson Tower began the dungeon report.
“We’ve identified two things from the analysis of the dungeon gate: one is bad, and the other… is worse.”
Raere frowned.
“Let’s hear the bad news first.”
The investigator’s expression turned grim. Raere decided it was best to get the lesser evil out of the way.
“This dungeon… it’s been classified as a Class 1.”
“What in the world…”
“A Class 1 dungeon?!”
Dungeons are ranked from 0 to 5. Grade 0 dungeons are practically unheard of—if one appears, it’s a continent-wide catastrophe that mobilizes the entire Empire.
Realistically, the most dangerous dungeon one might ever encounter is a Class 1.
There hadn’t been a Class 1 dungeon in the past decade, so many of the Crimson Tower mages were facing one for the first time in their lives.
“Based on the ancient script engraved on the gate, we believe this dungeon is both blessed and cursed by Mer, Goddess of the Bow. This means we’ll need to prepare thoroughly for projectile-based threats—especially arrows.”
At least they’d identified the presiding deity of the dungeon. Knowing the dungeon’s divine origin gave adventurers a huge advantage when planning their strategy.
“…And the worse news?”
“The mana flow around the gate suggests we’re dangerously close to a dungeon wave.”
“How long do we have?”
“At best—five days. Worst case… three.”
The tent erupted into chaos.
“Three days?! The wave could trigger before the adventurers even arrive!”
“We might be able to summon them using teleportation magic.”
One mage offered.
“But this is a Class 1 dungeon. Even famous adventurers from the capital would think twice.”
Even if teleportation brought them in instantly, it would be a suicide mission for anyone but the top elite. And convincing those elites to risk their lives? That kind of pay doesn’t grow on trees.
“We have no choice—we’ll need to prepare for the wave.”
“You can’t be serious!”
A government official from the Platinum Council cried out in horror.
“If the wave hits here, westbound logistics will collapse completely!”
Raere had already started planning for a wave—it was the most practical option.
But the Platinum Council official nearly panicked. He knew better than anyone that a dungeon wave wasn’t just a poor solution—it was a devastating one.
Dungeon waves unleashed monstrous hordes saturated with dark energy. The lands they ravaged would become cursed and uninhabitable for years—sometimes decades.
The Argon Plains weren’t just any field. They were the logistical artery between the western and southern regions of the continent. If a wave broke out here, the long-term economic fallout would be immense.
“Then what do you suggest? The dungeon’s dangerous, and adventurers are scarce. Are you going to convince the Platinum Council to cough up the funds for dozens of top-ranked adventurers?”
“I… I…”
That was the problem.
The moment the Council got wind of this, it would devolve into political finger-pointing. The wave would burst while they were still playing the blame game.
Raere had long since stopped expecting anything from them.
As the conversation drifted toward abandoning the Argon Plains entirely, Calyx finally stepped forward.
“There’s still one way left.”
The Council official turned to him with desperation.
“What is it, Lord Calyx?”
He wasn’t the type to speak without a plan. That gave people hope.
Raere also watched him, curious what he’d say.
“We’ll clear the dungeon without relying on the capital’s adventurers.”
Everyone froze.
It was as if the very air turned to frost.
The official gulped and asked cautiously.
“…Do you happen to know a high-ranking adventurer personally?”
“No. I don’t.”
“Then… Do you have anyone among your knights who’s cleared a Class 1 dungeon before?”
“No. I don’t.”
The official looked like he was going to have a stroke.
No adventurers. No elite knights. Then who was supposed to tackle a top-tier dungeon?!
“Then—who’s going to clear it?!”
He finally snapped and demanded an answer.
And Calyx, completely unshaken, replied.
“I will.”
Sharon would later recall that moment with awe.
Even the most powerful ice magic couldn’t have frozen the room the way those words did.
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HELIO SCANS
[Translator - Hestia]
[Proofreader - Kaya]
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