I’m Not the Final Boss’ Lover

I looked around the 3rd Corps and was greatly satisfied that I could check every detail about them that I had failed to find through the member profiles and party windows. One member was using a sword when he had more talent with a bow, while a mage would benefit more from using his mana in a more versatile way, and didn’t that archer look pretty useful too? More people were unable to properly exhibit their abilities than I thought, which made me consider my task a worthy challenge.

While I scanned every one of them for fear of missing someone talented, August was watching me. He had been quietly following me all this time, but then he suddenly broke his silence. “After taking a look, what do you think?”

“The tangerines are all fresh and pretty.”

“…Pardon?” August creased his forehead slightly, confused, but I was too busy to mind as the list of my unit members was about to grow bigger. I decided to first check on the ones I had kept an eye on for a long time. But I came by some unexpected news in the midst of searching for them.

“Died?” I blinked. “In this short time?”

“Yes. I received a report of his death in a recent dungeon raid,” Mary explained.

My face turned stiff. The corps member who had died was 17 years old, which was young even among the Dark Knights. The boy was a bowman but he had an excellent talent for the sword, and I thought he would be easy to raise as I liked, given his young age. This was why I intended to make him the main physical attacker of the special unit, but…

A dark sense of ill-boding crept inside my head, pushing out the disappointment of my plan going amiss. I had a bad feeling. Although my senses were dull when it came to myself, my hunches were never too off in cases like this. Something was definitely going on. Feeling an inexplicable anxiety rise up, I asked Mary, “That report… Could I have a look at it too?”

“Of course,” she nodded and left the room. It didn’t take long for her to return with the report and I urgently flipped through its pages.

August seemed to think I was overreacting. “Death in a dungeon is common,” he said.

“I know. And I also know that the death rate of the Dark Knights is significantly lower compared to the other corps.” I didn’t take my eyes off the report as I responded. As I read further down the closely-written papers, my brows furrowed deeper. After going through it all, I closed the report and asked, “…Mary. Could you let me know if you notice something different, or something else of note in this team?”

“Of course.”

Mary left with a nod, leaving me and August in the office. The priest, who was thinking over my strange attitude, asked, “You seem to think that something is going on, Sister.”

I rubbed the sides of my mouth without replying. Voicing my thoughts would lead to a hasty conclusion, and there was still too much uncertainty for that. However… It was so suspicious. Perhaps he found my silence frustrating because August picked up the report I had been reading and took a quick look at it, only to raise a brow. “They have a normal team composition and a normal rate of mortality…” he muttered. “The other teams suffer about the same number of losses. In fact, when compared to others this team has fewer deaths.”

“That’s the strange thing.” I sighed as I explained. “The number of deaths isn’t the important thing. How they died is what matters.”

“What do you… Wait.” Seeming to have realized something, August began looking through the report again, a deep furrow wrinkling his forehead. “…Now I know what you were concerned about, Sister. I still have a way to go.”

The mortality rate of this team was average—perhaps below average—which was questionable. A corps member dying in a dungeon usually occurred when there was a big problem during the raid, and whenever that happened it would result in a series of casualties… but this team was different. Although they rarely suffered big losses all at once, their members would almost always die one at a time. Furthermore, the deceased were mostly those who had joined the team last. “I would say this went unnoticed because the casualties they suffered were similar to the other teams. This situation… is indeed strange. His Excellency must be informed.”

But that wasn’t the only strange thing—there was a difference in the information between my party window and the report. “The team leader of the Blue Flames, Spearman Wipera…”

Nevertheless, even if I were to press down hard, the culprit would play innocent and insist I was finding fault for no reason. Informing Mayer about the situation would be pointless without any evidence. These sorts of wrongdoers would only grow even more cunning if given the chance to escape. They had to be dealt with in one fell swoop, and for that to happen, evidence was necessary.

I gazed out the window with my chin cupped and murmured, “For now, let’s keep watching for a little longer…”