(Lyra POV)

“Miss, we have movement!” One of Virgil’s minions barged into my office, catching the pen I reflexively threw at her. As is standard protocol for all who enter my office unannounced.

“Oh sir, you’re here too, good. This is urgent news.”

Standing at attention, the messenger began her report.

It was Sabastian. He was up and moving! Took me a few takes, but she confirmed it. Multiple times. A dead man walking.

He shouldn't even be awake, let alone marching a force towards the dungeon. But there he was bandaged, charred, and as lively as ever.

I suspected Bargas had a hand in this, but there were no irregular movements on his part. Just one of his routine get-togethers with the Dancer. No information on their conversation this time, due to... difficulties. Between Virgil’s laziness and his minion’s inadequacies, maybe it’s time for a pay cut.

Offering her a seat on the couch, I dissected this new piece of information using Virgil to ferry folders to and from my desk.

Let’s see, this army of his are all registered adventurers. Names, age, and ethnicity all varied enough to prevent a prying eye from pining a location of origin. Dates of registration? Once again, nothing out of the ordinary. Affiliations? Nothing. Skills? No.

Pouring over numerous files, the only connecting thread between them all was their lack of connection to Bargas’s guild in any way. A third party? Hired mercenaries, perhaps?

*Bang*

Another messenger brutalizes my door. “Miss! Sabastian has entered the dungeon.”

“Shit!” What do I do? What do I do? There is obviously something bigger at play here.

What Sabastian is doing here isn’t a major crime by any stretch. Maybe a health hazard, but that could be passed off as multiple groups entering simultaneously. And considering Bargas’s past actions, something this extreme doesn't make sense. He was preparing for the election in earnest.

This doesn’t add up. It doesn’t add up? Nothing about this adds up.

Argh! I’m running out of time. Alright, burning it down to the core problem.

If I declare a state of emergency, I can prevent Bargas from achieving whatever goal he has with the dungeon.

On the other hand, if this is a ploy designed to unnerve me, he can use my blunder as propaganda. Delivering one last gut-punch while painting me in a negative light right before the election.

“Tch, dammit! Virgil, declare a state of emergency. The dungeon has been invaded by an armed force. Send an initial group to evacuate anybody currently inside the dungeon. Then a second group to rout and capture the enemy.

Do we still have those reflective armbands?”

Understanding the gravity of the situation, he replied instantly. “We have them stored with the spare uniforms.”

“Pass them out to anyone taking the requests. Ten gold for the first group plus an additional thirty for each person they evacuate. One-hundred GP up front for anyone in the subjugation group plus an additional one-hundred afterwards.

Make sure they are trustworthy, you have full reign.”

With an affirmative grunt, Virgil immediately disappeared from the room, while his minions ran off to inform the staff.

(At an Inn)

At the same time Lyra received her report, so to did Bargas receive his. “Sabastian has woken up and...” Repeating the information, he contemplated his next course of action. Ultimately all roads led back to one option.

“You.” He addressed the messenger who was chugging down lukewarm tea, “Gather the guild, we are reinforcing Sebastian's forces.” Giving a salute, the already beleaguered runner dashed off to fulfill his appointed task.

As the thumping footsteps quieted into the distance, Bargas turned to Kheru. “Send those in the know back to HQ, have them relay the intel we gathered.” Stepping out of the inn, they saw each other off with a nod before splitting off to complete their respective tasks.

On his way to the dungeon, Bargas noticed several shadows following him, blending into the crowd or within alleyways. The order had spread, and his guildmates were starting to congregate.

Hurried steps and hurried thoughts had him preoccupied. Luckily, his reputation meant unhindered passage through the crowd.

Almost unhindered passage. A lone bulky figure blocked Bargas’s path, shoving something into his vacant arms.

“wha-?” Bargas snapped out in surprise. The sudden weight now nestled in his grasp was a rather hefty parcel of supplies. “Looked like ya needed it.” A familiar face, this man was the owner and only employee of the general store that sat across the road from where Bargas did his daily speeches.

Almost every day without fail, Bargas visited this quaint little shop after a lengthy campaign speech to buy some water. One could say they were well acquainted, but above that, Bargas was a benefactor to him and all those in the shopping district.

“Don’t look like that,” The shopkeep cheerfully boomed seeing a bewildered Bargas. “yer entering the dungeon today right?” Bargas gave a blank nod. “Than don’t be shy! After everything you’ve done for us, this is the least we could do.”

Waking up from his delirious battle of wits against an imaginary Lyra, Bargas returned to his usual self. “A-Ah yes, thank you. Where would I be if you didn’t catch me?”

The shopkeeper let out a hardy chuckle, “In a load of trouble, but don’t worry about it, we all forget things. Why, when I was an adventurer, I even forgot my weapon from time to time.”

“Bah! But don’t let my babbling keep you. Seeing that fire in your eyes tells me everything. You got a mission to accomplish!” With a swift slap to the back, he sent Bargas on his way.

Reaching the lip of the dungeon, Bargas took his first resolute steps into its maw. With his men following behind him, no doubt their numbers would have already tipped Lyra off.

(Back at the A.A Lobby)

The whole place was in an uproar, it was total mayhem! Adventurers scrambling to gather their gear together for the upcoming subjugation, ramming each other over desperately trying to reach the front counter. And at the center of all this pandemonium was one person trying to bring order, Virgil.

“Hey, stop! You there, wear your armband! Hands off! Officials only!” He was trying his best.

Eventually, he managed to reign in the first group. “Alright, you lot. Everybody got their armbands on?” A soft agreement rumbled from the crowd. “Now then, the pouches you’ve been given are stuffed with extra bands, this is for your extractees. Once you escort them up, we will make sure of their identity than you will receive extra payment.”

A hurrah from the motley group. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go!”

With amazing grace, the band of scouts, hunters, and rouges burst out of the A.A with astounding speed.

“And that takes care of that.” Content with the group’s performance, Virgil let out a wry smile spotting young Nikolaos amidst the scrambling mass. ‘Looks like he’s finally getting out there.’ He thought to himself.

With a couple minutes left before the next dispatch, he went about assembling a support team. Which mostly consisted of A.A receptionists and the shrine maiden’s group. They’ll be handling, communication, management, and health supervision.

Sending them off to build a temporary base of operations at the dungeon’s entrance, Virgil moved on to the vanguard.

Same as the first, rowdy and overdue for a touch of combat and GP. Their task was simple, so Virgil sent them off without to much hassle. Except for two individuals he spotted earlier in the mess.

“Zhenya, Fredrica!... Wait. Hold up!” Catching the duo, he pulled them aside and waited for the others to march out.

“H-Hey! Let go!” Struggling out off Virgil’s grasp, Zhenya glared daggers into the handsy receptionist. He has always been an overly friendly guy, but this was a first. “Sorry, might have been a bit too forceful there, but honest, this is important.”

Fatigued from his previous rodeo reigning in the rowdy bastards, he takes a few deep breaths before continuing. “Can you two rush to the second floor before the vanguard group?”

Both girls hollowly stared at him, a mad man spewing mad requests. “Erhmmm let me explain...”

(Curator POV)

“Alice, there is a group of three on your right. The wolves are keeping them preoccupied.” Entering the fray, she leapt off her mount as it rammed down one of the intruders leaving him helpless to the torrent of fangs befalling him.

His biting screams gripped both his companions, gnawing into them, cursing them to share in his pain, one paper cut at a time.

As the initial shock died alongside their companion. Jolting out of their delirium, they lashed out in panic. One fended off the wolves while the other charged at Alice, aiming to strike her down.

Chipping into the iron wall that Alice called a tome, she instantly flung the cover open, taking the blade and almost the attacker with it. Unarmed, the intruder was easy prey for the wolf that leapt out from its pages.

Hearing the yelps of his teammate come and die. Our last remaining invader tried to flee, but he was quickly run down and eviscerated.

Why is this happening?

Hell if I know, but the dungeon is on fire again, metaphorically this time.

The first floor is pretty much a war zone, with blood-stained paper littering the dirt. These people aren’t the usual lackadaisical adventurers doing their daily grind or the type looking for adventure. They’re driven by something a lot more compelling, judging by how fervently they were tearing through everything.

‘The beast, the hunters! They’re here for power, stalking and dour, closer and closer, bindings constricting, breathing is harder~

Whose pulsing heart dost these scoundrels desire? It is no less than thine own.’ The thought rang out in my mind. As much as I would have loved to refute that fact and go on believing they were fairytale enthusiasts, it had a point.

‘Fairy tales were made to punish the wicked, nothing more.’

Fairy tales were made to reward the virtuous. Shaking those thoughts aside, I had Alice and the wolves hunt in secrecy to maintain the illusion of normality in front of our guests.

“Curator, a second group has entered the dungeon.” Eh, that isn’t good. “For now, continue as you were, we will evaluate them as guest or intruder later.” Committing their mana signatures to memory, I continued monitoring the situation.

Our guests were starting to grow wary, sensing discourse looming behind the scenes.

There was only so much Alice, and her pack could do to whittle down their numbers. Skill-wise, these guys were a step up from the usual adventurers.

Ah! A big group of them are heading towards the first little pig’s house, sorta.

Over the hill, down into the valley of pillowy pastel flowers. Where once curled an unassuming straw shack, now proudly stood a grand gleaming monochrome fortress.

So funny story, after the Knights of Grey Steel slew the first-floor guardian, their chivalry dictated they help the little pig repair his house. They ended up using the cracked fragments of their armaments to fortify the shack, welding the parts with something akin to a blow torch.

Anyways, the quickest path was through the valley. Other than that, they would have to travel around the hill or contend with trekking over its steep ridges. And considering their apparent rush to my... Well, they did the expected move, diving straight into the valley.

Now, let the story unfold! This time with a twist.

... Let the story unfoooooold... Un-fold...

Hesitation had them by the balls. Apparently, a metal fortress isn’t the most welcoming building to come face to face with.

Well, while these guys pull together the courage to approach, let’s take a peek at the other half of their army. Effortlessly tearing their way up the opposite side of the dungeon. This one seems to be headed by the leader of this raid.

A lively man wielding an austere spear wrapped head to toe in plain white bandages that were slightly dirtied from the shin down. He leads from the front lines keeping his men’s morale up through lively banter and small acts heroism.

And maybe it was due to good luck or unnaturally good senses, but he somehow led his forces through the minefield that was the fairies playground. It’s nothing mystical like the name suggests, just a dense patch of trees that the first-floor fairies liked to conduct experiments in.

Usually, most adventurers don’t last long before they fall prey to a couple proto-pranks at the least. But like I said before, this guy had the uncanny ability to just shimmy his way around them.

Easily bypassing the fairies playground with minimal losses, they arrived at the pedestal.

“Dokkaebi, I’m sorry. But it looks like I will have to ask you to break role for today.” Sad as it was to ask the usually gentlemanly Dokkaebi to fight, the invaders were getting a bit to close for comfort.

“My brothers and I are prepared to stop these vagrants,” Dokkaebi replied resolutely. That’s good, although the part about his brother’s joining in... Dealing with that triple threat, I’m starting to feel sorry for these guys.

Back on the first floor, I’m just gonna make an executive decision and say the second wave of people are definitely intruders.

Yep, there’s no mistaking it now. They're somehow even more frenzied than the first guys. Maybe the two groups are related? Hold on a moment, where the hell are the guests?

DP eye activate! Doing a quick scan, I was hit with the realization that there was another faction working just under my nose.

Donning bright yellow reflective armbands, they darted through the woods evacuating my guests.

Good or bad, this at least confirms my suspicions that this whole fiasco has something to do with above ground politics, probably a power struggle.

At least they hold the innocence’s safety as a priority. They’re pretty good at it too, almost all my guests have been escorted out. Oh, here comes their main forces.