Once they were on the horseless carriage, Nero wasted no time. He changed classes to his utility [Mage] build and repaired his equipment. He and Altia removed their armor and put it away on his backpack.

"I hate to admit," She told him, "But your stupid idea worked."

"Aye, it did. Now we need to find a way to get her out."

Altia examined Nero. She could see the toll all the healing did to his body. She slid to the end of the bench and pulled him down, to rest his head on her lap.

"Shh. Come here," She held him. "You are tired of all the healing. Close your eyes and rest."

She knew that healing potions didn't restore flesh out of nowhere. Done sparingly, it had no ill effects. At the level of what Nero did with Daisy? He'd be exhausted. If he had three more Anima crystals, she'd have to stop him or the healing potions would be rejected by the body because the injuries were less harmful than the then toxic concoction. They had to sleep and take it easy tomorrow. The disconnection between Dungeon time and real-time was a threat to their mental health. Less than a day passed on the outside and yet they lived for three months in there.

Altia thought it was a good thing that Dungeon time came with their perks. The Essence filled ambient halted aging. They weren't three months older, their bodies were the same as when they entered. If she remembered well, the record was someone that stayed inside a Dungeon for more than a decade, surviving on monster flesh.

The other was that they could have sex as much as they wanted and she wouldn't get pregnant. Serena was really thoughtful by giving them time alone without being asked. Altia still had her periods inside the Dungeon normally, but no woman that delved regularly had ever become pregnant. Female adventurers that wanted a baby had to stay in the real world until they became pregnant, and not go inside a Dungeon until the baby was born. It was the dichotomy of the Dungeon. Women that went in didn't become pregnant. The pregnant ones that delved suffered a horrible miscarriage in the first hours inside.

As a whole, it was a good honeymoon. Meeting Serena changed the dynamics but it was for the better. Getting tangled in this political game, not so much but now it was too late. One thing kept Altia worried. Why did the princess's supporters leave her there for so long? Now that the Chrysopae and the nereids were trapped in the Lyceum because the King would surely arrest them if they step outside the campus, it would be impossible for them to rescue Serena. Still, her intuition told her something was wrong. Serena was almost a feral creature when they met her.

The carriage entered Bezzias' estate. The bat-kin was there, in his robes, waiting for them.

"Lamuril! Nero! Altia! I hope you are okay."

Nero stirred but she caressed his head and he calmed down. Bezzias approached the open carriage.

"Hello, professor," She greeted him and switched to a mild scolding tone. "Nero was wounded and the healing taxed his body. He's sleeping."

The bat-kin opened the door and looked inside. Altia knew he noticed the lack of luggage.

"I see. How was your delve, fruitful?"

She had to tell a half-truth. Serena's whereabouts were a state secret. Literally. "We left everything inside and escaped with only our equipment. Not even a single Essence. But I think Tinkwezilsky will be pleased to know we did a field test of the strain theory. Nero couldn't measure the strain values but I gained dozens of Accolades without leveling up."

Bezzias seemed amused. But something was weighing him down. It made Altia worry.

"Yes, that's amazing. But we won't go to the Lyceum tomorrow. Even though you stayed away a single day, things are moving quickly. Too quickly."

"The repercussions of the fight yesterday?"

Bezzias sighed. Lamuril was at his side, waiting to do his job or to be dismissed. Altia remembered it was past midnight! The bat-kin sighed.

"It is better if we talk inside. Or maybe tomorrow. You should sleep without such worries weighing on you."

As if the other worries weren't enough of a burden. But they were tired, that was a fact. Altia woke Nero and they went inside. They went to their room and washed the grime off before crashing on the bed. Nero was like a zombie all the time and Altia fell asleep moments after him.

They slept in. Altia even opened up an eye but then remembered they didn't have to go to the Lyceum and wrapped herself around Nero's sleeping form like an octopus. Nero even opened up an eye later but found out that Altia was being super grabby and kinda choking him with her Arbitrium. He moved her left arm down and she grabbed his arm instead of the neck. He closed his eyes and relished the feeling of her body pressed tight against his. Then he pretended he went back to sleep. Meanwhile, Altia's heart was pounding really fast. She was worried Nero would complain when he moved her arm but then she physically felt all the appreciation he had for her.

Near noon, the couple was up, refreshed, and ready for a late start for their day. They finished dressing and the door opened. Nala, the cat-kin maid appeared.

"Good morning, young master, young mistress. I heard you were ready to start your day, sorry for intruding. Master Bezzias and guests await you at the parlor. This way, please."

They followed Nala and entered the parlor. Bezzias, Tinkwezilsk, and Glom were there along with a fourth figure they didn't identify at first glance.

"Ah, there they are," Bezzias exclaimed. "Welcome. I hope you are rested and healthy. Please have a seat. There is tough news to share." His initial cheerfulness vanished. When he introduced them, Nero already knew the mysterious guest. "This is professor Holmes, the head of Dungeoneering. He is on the Ethics Committee and is very interested in your special condition."

Oh, great. More people to share a secret with. That won't go bad, no, sir. Even though the people at the village all knew, he hoped to keep it contained at the capital.

"Hello, Professor Holmes. Pleased to meet you," Altia said when Nero hesitated, busy fighting his worries.

"Mrs. Altia, assistant Nero. The pleasure is mine. I saw you helping with the mutiny and I must thank you for your timely assistance."

Now that he could see him closer, Holmes seemed to be a half-breed. Maybe wolf-kin and elven heritage mixed in. His features looked feral yet ephemeral. His ears were pointed but not overly elongated like the elves' and it had tufts of fur sticking out. His canines projected further from his bite line but not out like an orc's.

"How can we help you, professor Holmes?"

Nero asked, suspicion oozing from his body language and voice. As much as he'd grown, he was still a small sardine in an ocean of sharks. Maybe a trout. The newcomer examined the student with care. Then he smiled.

"I came here to meet you, Nero," He eschewed the honorific in hope of developing an intimate connection. "Your assistance with professor Tinkwezilsk's breakthrough regarding Attribute strain. I've seen the preliminary data and it sounds promising. Professor Bezzias told me you have more empirical data to share?"

On one hand, it seemed that Holmes's interest was purely academic and not related to the whole kidnap-conspiracy-war thing. On the other hand, it was an extremely personal subject. Now more than ever they needed to keep their true capabilities hidden. Keep themselves seen as sardines.

"Yes, we do, professor," Once again Altia answered for him. "We, however, wish to keep our Attribute values hidden."

"That is fair, professor Tinkwezilsk already conveyed that would be your wishes. Trust me, your identities will be kept a secret, and neither of your level caps will figure in the study. We will need a report on your methods of training and try to emulate them in lab conditions. Since this is new research, there are new Ethics release forms you need to review and sign. I already took the liberty of applying the changes you made to the previous document, assistant Altia."

Nero kept his silence, slowly studying Holmes' body language. He was dangling a lot of carrots. This research promised to be a real breakthrough and would have dire impacts in the Anima crystal market. The reason the lower grade crystals were cheap - as compared to other grades of Anima crystals - was that anyone investing in pumping one's evolution with the crystals knew they would only need ten or eleven before moving on to the next grade.

But did he have the right to delay the progress of science? The spread of knowledge? And wasn't his motivation petty and selfish? He had millions of Essence squirreled away in a Dungeon with Serena, but until the war ended, he couldn't pour it into the market as the kingdom was watching big trades carefully.

"I understand," Nero finally spoke. "I have a few requests. First, there is one subject that greatly interests me, the unique cards. I was fascinated when professor Tinkwezilsk told me of their existence. I want all the information you have on the subject and maybe some personal lectures. Second, I want to see the unique card currently in possession of the Lyceum as fast as possible, as a gesture of goodwill. Third, I want access to alchemy labs for my wife so she can work on her heart's passion. Fourth, I want your word on the secrecy of our condition and names. The agreements are fine but I know a document here and there slips through. As it has already happened."

His eyes didn't waver from the professor. One quality Nero discovered in himself was to stand tall in the face of a stronger power and more importantly, keep a level head in those situations.

"Splendid!" Holmes cheered with his face only. His body kept a relaxed stance that betrayed his fake excitement. "The lyceum can and will accommodate all your demands, there's no problem with that. Professor Bezzias already filled in the paperwork for the request to access the restricted section of the card library and I approved it this very morning!"

Nero knew he was biting the bait like a hungry fish unaware of the metal hook. Maybe his time with Serena had tainted his inner metaphors even though she spoke little of the sea and the denizens of the water. Maybe he was worried about his friend and that's why these similes kept popping in his mind.

"Excellent? When should we start?" Nero agreed with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Today! We should depart for the Lyceum across the street after lunch. Bezzias has a special meal for us, to celebrate your return from Rafflesia's Meadow. How was your delve, by the way?"

He couldn't help but share a complicitous glance with Altia. He kept Holmes in his field of view and his heightened Perception saw the interest the senior academic had when he mentioned the Dungeon. Even more, there was reason to believe he had something to do with Serena, either on the side of the hunters or the defenders. Nero dug deep into his memories.

The conversation he and Chrysopae had at the dorm. The professor's demeanor and attire screamed he was a stifler for propriety and the rites. He only mentioned the other researchers in a more intimate tone when he referred to Bezzias in the quality of a host, thus detached from the academic setting. It was just a suspicion but he called Chrysopae 'miss' and not 'student' in the middle of a battlefield inside the campus. It hinted at a relationship above that between student and teacher. While he was certain it wasn't intimate, there was a whole spectrum between them.

And added to the fact that the half-nereid girl was the leader of Serena's secret supporters, the spectrum narrowed based on how hungry Nero's guts were. He noticed he spent too long in his musings when Altia once more answered in his stead.

"It was fine. We camped at the flower glade a bit removed from the entrance lawn until we were sure no other Adventurers were delving after us and then claimed that grass section for ourselves and set up camp there, to capitalize on the fact that no monsters ever spawn near or at the entrance of a Dungeon. We spent our full planned three months camped there, enjoying the dangerously beautiful scenery, working on our selected crafts and hunting part of the time."

"Any special observations about the current state of the Dungeon?"

He asked with a neutral tone, which was weird. He was the head of Dungeoneering, he should be excited by talking about his chosen field, especially about a Dungeon that wasn't visited so often.

"Yes," Nero said. "The Dungeon shows clear signs of evolution. We heard reports it was a purple-grade tier-I Dungeon but what we saw inside made us believe it is already pushing to rise to rank-II. The thorny trippers, the monsters of the first strata ranged in levels from three to seven, and not one through four as expected. The monsters of the second strata, the moss shamblers reached levels up to twelve. We didn't hunt enough of the third strata to get a good measure."

As he finished his report he realized he was lured into oversharing. Their narrative was that they beat a hasty retreat. If they hunted so extensively as to know the level ranges of the monsters, why did they... Altia once again picked up his slack.

"All was fine until we found a shambler from deep inside the forest. It was bigger than the biggest we've met so far and unique in its heightened intellect and mass. We dubbed it the Stomping Shambler or Stomper. Well, my hothead of a husband here decided to have a quote-unquote friendly spar with the biggest monster we've found in there. During that spar, we fled using [Egress] but we were traveling light in our hunts. They were successful so far and we didn't keep anything with us to travel light. Thus we left everything behind."

Holmes sighed. "That's unfortunate but a rookie mistake not many novices avoided committing. Not a single card," he mumbled at the end, his gaze fixed on the more than plentiful abundance of card pouches attached to Nero's bandolier.

"Yes, indeed. We found a treasure trove of yellow and blue cards," Nero admitted. There was no point in lying, the man was the head of Dungeoneering. "The drop rates were extremely bountiful, and I must admit I left dozens of millions of Essence worth of crystals and cards behind, all added up."

He sounded more confrontational than apologetic. Nero decided that Holmes was an antagonist until the time they either secured Serena's safety or he came clean with his motivations in a manner they could trust.