Vur took in a deep breath while pulling his right arm back. His left palm was placed flat on the purple barrier, his arm fully extended. He tightened his right hand into a fist and took a step forward with his left leg. Blue scales grew on his knuckles, and he punched the barrier. There was a cracking sound, and a moment later, the barrier shattered like a pane of glass, breaking into hundreds of thousands of little pieces. The purple pieces dropped to the ground and disappeared, leaving a gaping hole in the cave wall large enough for a dragon to pass through.

Emile and Susan glanced at each other. Emile’s phoenix flames had no effect on the barrier whatsoever, but all Vur had to do was punch it to break it. It didn’t even seem like he used any mana. “Are dragons really that much stronger than phoenixes?” Emile asked and grumbled. He glanced at Tafel. “How come you can’t do that?”

Tafel glared at Emile but didn’t respond. She turned her head towards Vur. “Will you let me try to fight the creature inside alone?”

“Didn’t you say it was really strong? I thought you ran away from it and requested Vur’s help because you knew you couldn’t deal with it by yourself. Shouldn’t you just let Vur defeat it instead of messing around?”

Tafel whirled her head around. The winged woman was staring at her. “When did you get here?” Tafel asked. “Aren’t you the tour guide? I thought you stayed behind with the other group.”

“I followed you two,” the Recordkeeper said. “You probably didn’t notice me because I didn’t say anything until now. That’s a failure on your part as an adventurer, you know? How could you not notice someone following you when they weren’t even trying to hide?”

“She’s not really with the other group,” Stella said to Tafel, the fairy queen’s head sticking out of Vur’s chest. “Vur kidnapped her from somewhere else.”

“Is that so?” Tafel asked, raising an eyebrow. She shook her head at the Recordkeeper. “Well, the reasons why I do things is none of your business.” She glanced at Vur. “How about it? Don’t buff me with your elementals either.”

Vur grunted. “If that’s what you want, I’ll just watch.”

“Thanks,” Tafel said. She exhaled, and three balls of phoenix flames materialized in the air around her. She walked forward into the cave, the interior lit up in a blood-red glow. Her eyes were narrowed, and her body was tense, ready to react to anything. Vur followed behind her, occasionally glancing at the walls. There wasn’t anything interesting: no scrape marks, no scratches, nothing to indicate a large creature traversed through the area frequently. However, there were footsteps.

“What made these?” Vur asked and squatted next to an imprint in the ground. It was hooved, toed, and clawed all at the same time. There were even hints of an opposable digit behind the strange footprint. “Does anyone know?”

“I’ve never seen a footprint like this,” Diamant said. “Perhaps it’s a creature unique to the southern continent.”

“I don’t really see many footprints,” Sheryl said. “Not a lot of things traveled through the region I lived in before I met you. If you don’t know what it is, I have no clue either.”

“Who cares?” Zilphy asked. “We’ll find out what it is soon enough.”

The Recordkeeper clicked her tongue. “There’s so many different things living inside of you, but none of them are very learned,” she said. “This is the footprint of a kirlopion.”

“A what?” Tafel asked. “What are kirlopion’s like?”

“They’re too hard to describe, mainly because they’re invisible and only show the parts that they want to be seen,” the Recordkeeper said. “Once you see it, you’ll know what I mean. If there’s really a kirlopion in this cave, it’s possible all of us are going to die.” She glanced at Vur. “I know what you can do, but even with your abilities, you won’t be able to stop it. A kirlopion is immune to all forms of magic, and it’s physically strong enough to wrestle ten dragons at once without being on the losing end.” The Recordkeeper ignored the doubtful gazes concentrated on her. “However, kirlopions went extinct thanks to the rise of dragons and phoenixes.”

“Didn’t you say a kirlopion could wrestle ten dragons?” Emile asked. “How did they lose to the dragons and phoenixes?”

“Kirlopions require a certain—now-extinct—fruit to reproduce,” the Recordkeeper said. “Although Kirlopions guarded the trees that grew the fruit, one animal, the rahdee, was extremely good at sneaking past the kirlopions, but it was also terrible at escaping from other predators. As more and more dragons and phoenixes were born, they disrupted the ecosystem by devouring too many of the previous apex predators. The rahdee’s population exploded, and they ate the kirlopion’s fruit to extinction. In response, the kirlopions eradicated all the rahdee, but they were unable to reproduce any longer. Eventually, both species went extinct when the last kirlopion died of old age.”

“If that’s the case, how is there a kirlopion here?” Tafel asked. “And how do you know all this?”

“I’m the Recordkeeper,” the Recordkeeper said. “It’s my responsibility to know things. As for how a kirlopion showed up here, I’m not sure.”

“I thought you knew everything,” Susan said. “Didn’t you just say it was your responsibility?”

“It’s impossible for anyone to know everything,” the Recordkeeper said and shook her head. “Even if you took all living beings as a collective, it’s impossible for them to know every piece of knowledge.”

Tafel pursed her lips. If what the Recordkeeper was saying was true, then their party was seriously outmatched. However, there was something weird about what the Recordkeeper had said. “If kirlopions are immune to magic, why did this one stop chasing me after I went through the barrier?”

The Recordkeeper shrugged. “Like I said,” she said. “It’s impossible for me to know everything. Perhaps there’s a reason why it can’t leave this place. Perhaps that reason is tied to why it’s still alive despite the rest of its race having gone extinct.”

Tafel frowned and looked at Vur. “Maybe we should go back. What do you think?”