She didn’t understand what exactly was going on, but at the very least, it was clear that the thing earlier was something called a “dungeon,” and that someone—or something—connected to it wasn’t pleased about its destruction.
And more importantly, that “someone” seemed powerful enough to impose their rules even on Inari.
“Even so, mayhap the children of men fare just fine without mine meddling anymore.”
If Inari’s manifestation was indeed connected to all of this, then twenty years had already passed. By now, humans had probably found a way to manage things on their own—or so Inari figured.
“Well then, I suppose I remain unchanged…”
Muttering to herself, Inari started to return to the shrine grounds—but things would not go so simply.
In the span of those twenty years, technology had advanced enough to detect dungeon energy, and the sudden appearance—and immediate disappearance—of a dungeon strong enough to be picked up had already been registered by the government. Confused and alarmed, they were already preparing to send a team to investigate.
It would not take long.
…
A few days later, Inari noticed something flying around overhead.
“That sound… if memory serves, ‘twas called a herikoputā, was it not?”
With the noisy chopper buzzing above, Inari merely muttered “How vexing…” and continued sipping her tea. However, she gradually became aware of something—a gaze directed toward her.
It was not a normal gaze. It felt… unnatural. As though some kind of supernatural force was forcing a line of sight upon her.
“Fumu… a far-seeing eye, perhaps? Still, ‘tis a tad improper to peer upon a lady in such discourteous fashion, dost thou not agree?”
With a murmur, Inari turned around—and brushed the gaze aside as if swatting a bug.
There was a cracking sound, as though something had broken, and the gaze vanished. But the helicopter above showed no signs of leaving. If anything, it drew closer… and before long, descended into the shrine’s courtyard, its rotors roaring.
From within stepped two men dressed in what could only be described as fantasy cosplay.
One wore full armor, complete with sword and shield. The other had a robe and staff. Inari, baffled by the bizarre sight, almost visibly had a question mark over her head. Still, on closer inspection, their equipment seemed to carry some kind of strange energy.
“Is this the one?”
“The features match what Tayama described. No doubt about it.”
The two exchanged words, while Inari scratched her cheek lightly, watching them.
“Strange garb ye wear, the both of ye… and now ye talk amongst yourselves? Wouldst ye not conduct thy chatter elsewhere?”
“Well… you’re one to talk about strange garb.”
“Mine attire is of tradition, I’ll have thee know. But thine… what is that supposed to be? I sense strange power from it, yet ye resemble not any sort of yōkai I know of.”
Indeed, from Inari’s perspective, everything the two men wore radiated some sort of unusual “power.” Even the sword one of them carried gave off an aura strong enough to be called a demon blade.
To own so many items like that… clearly, this was no ordinary situation.
And then—in the midst of that thought—Inari felt another unpleasant sensation. That same feeling of being stared at without permission… but this time, it came directly from the robed man in front of her. It was so unpleasant that she instinctively swatted it away.
A sharp crack sounded again, and the robed man recoiled with a surprised yell.
“Wha—my Appraisal just got blocked!?”
“Hey, Takai, were you trying something again…?”
“Using sorcery so carelessly these days, is that truly how things be now? Curious indeed.”
“S-Sorcery!? No, it’s a skill…”
“Sukiru, ye say?”
At that, Inari remembered the “status” screen that had appeared to her before. There had indeed been something called “skill” on it…
“Ah, I see now. Ye lot are involved with that dungeon thing, art ye not?”
When Inari destroyed the dungeon, she’d been forcibly assigned a “status” and whatnot. Supposedly, dungeons weren’t meant to be destroyed… but perhaps, by interfering with them, one could gain these skills—sorceries—whatever they were.
“That’s right! A powerful dungeon formed in this area and vanished right away. We’re here to investigate what caused that.”
“I destroyed it.”
“Destroyed… uh, you mean the boss?”
“Boss? Is that what ye call the dungeon, then?”
“Huh?”
“Huh?”
The swordsman and Inari both tilted their heads at each other. After a moment, the swordsman began gesturing with his hands, drawing a circle in the air.
“There’s this… round, swirling thing. A dungeon gate.”
“Oh, aye. That was there.”
“Wait, are you saying you destroyed that?”
“I am indeed.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding.”
“Well, I was told not to destroy it, but…”
“Wait, hold on—by who?”
“Well, ye see… some text just sort of appeared afore mine eyes?”
As she gestured vaguely in front of her, the swordsman furrowed his brows in thought. Meanwhile, the robed man—“Takai,” he had been called—nudged his companion.
“Hey, Maruyama.”
“What? I’m thinking.”
“Those fox ears… haven’t they been moving this whole time?”
“Huh?”