A plaza filled to the brim with people, far more than what you would usually find there on a busy day.

A street that was a go-to for all adventurers of Westford, a place where they had spent a good amount of their waking hours in.

Usually, you would find street vendors shouting about their products to names of different people around here, familiar names that the vendors had learned after their regular visits.

In the center of the Westford not too far from the dungeon and the association building, in a place connected to a small garden-like open area, a serene highlight of the busy cross section of the streets, around seventy coffins were laid out in a circular pattern.

In the center of this coffin formation, there was a certain light green monument created overnight by the best craftsmen of the city, a monument that had names engraved of each and every individual who now lay in these coffins around it.

A street plaza that was usually bustling and full of noises, was quiet right now.

A city that was full of laughter, light, and joy was quiet.

There was a strange, almost eerie silence in the atmosphere. A scent of death filling the roads.

Association employees had arranged places for everyone to take a seat, and yet, the space they had was not enough today.

They were broadcasting everything happening in the plaza throughout the city as people watched from their houses, from the inns and taverns, from the different plazas around the city… they watched as an event not many places with dungeons see nowadays unfold in the great city of Westford.

{ "The smell of death is very distinct." }

The branch manager of the association, Exile Quinn Kaiser, addressed everyone from beside the monument, looking at both the nobles sitting before him and the common people around the city.

There was sadness in his eyes even though not all of the people present belonged to Westford. Not all of them were humans either, and yet, all the people present including him did not seem to care about it.

They had died during a mission undertaken by the association with the utmost caution carried out in order to eradicate an anomaly that could have threatened the entire city with its presence.

While deaths were common within the dungeons, deaths during a mission of such scale were a different matter altogether.

{ "When someone dies of old age, the scent around them carries sorrow and liberation from this world. When someone dies of illness, the scent around them carries regrets and longing. When a child dies, anger of the parents surrounds the society's sadness for not being able to see their growth." }

He looked around him, at the fine coffins all engraved with their names, families and loved ones of many resting in these coffins surrounding them with red, dry eyes.

The people of Westford weren't grieving like the families of those who had lost someone. The reason behind this widespread sadness and gloom was the reminder that these deaths brought with them… the reminder of the inevitability of death.

{ "Much like these different scents, the distinct scent around us today carries with it the sorrows and regrets of the brave adventurers who ventured into the dungeon." }

While those who were part of the raid this time had signed a form to take all the responsibility for what happens inside the dungeon, as adventurers and challengers of dungeons, they were always the one responsible for their own lives.

They were to look after themselves in dangerous times. There were no real rules binding them to any external rules within the dungeon.

However, this time was different.

Not only were the people who passed away invited by the nobles around Westford, their reputation was connected to the noble households that supported them.

They were no ordinary adventurers this time, and the situation itself was no ordinary as only those who came back from the dungeon had the slightest of idea as to what had happened in there.

Their deaths weren't something normal, and thus, in their honor, a send off like this was the least the association could do.

But then again, the nobles thought the association was protecting their image by doing this, the common people thought the association was being the great association that it was, while the members of the raid teams who understood the whole situation saw the association's disgusting plan.

The deaths had occurred unnaturally after they had achieved their mission. By doing something like this, the association not only did what might seem the right thing, they also got an upper hand against the nobles.

The whole of the funeral was too political when seeing from a broader angle, but to the common people and the families who had lost someone of their own, for the teammates that had been with them for years, and for a city who had not acknowledged the risks of the dungeon for a long time was mourning the truth today.

{ "The enemy was dangerous, far more than what we had imagined. To fight against a being like that was a challenge that we couldn't take lightly and so we had prepared countermeasures for most circumstances." }

The branch manager wasn't addressing everyone with any hidden motives right now. He was simply saying what was right, what he believed, and what had to be said from his position.

{ "We were lacking, we knew. Against the dungeon, all manners of preparations were insufficient. We knew that, and yet we overestimated ourselves." }

The public did not resent the association for what had happened. They could not do so even if they wanted to.

They knew the association and every member of it was just as normal as any of them. Even with powers and skills, they were simple people who were neither omnipotent nor all knowing.

The final 'attack' that killed all these people happened not because of someone's negligence, but because of the dungeon's innate nature.

The truth was not going to reach the public as it had been erased right inside the dungeon. Those who will come to know of the happenings of that fight would still not know as much as Aria, the one in the center of it all.

The association was truly not the one to blame and nor was any other party. As the branch manager knew, Aria was not the one behind the incident either. She was merely in the center of this whole thing somehow, caught up into something too complex for them to understand.

{ "It is too regrettable to lose such fine talents at this point in time. The world has lost some good smiles, the Dungeon has taken something away from us yet again…" }

His grim expression represented the heavy emotions he was carrying too clearly for everyone around the city.

{ "Nothing can bring them back to us, and drawing in sorrow would only hold us back." }

He took a step away from the podium he was addressing everyone from, took a step, and stood before the coffin of a young healer affiliated with the association.

This was the same person who had looked after Aria when she was brought to the safe camp site, the same person that did her best to hold Aria back when she woke up.

When Aria walked out of the tent, she could not chase after her. There were other patients, and she had a duty.

So, she did what she was supposed to do… and for that, she received a death that was the most unfitting of a young talent like hers.

"We must move forward."

Strengthened by Aura, his voice reverberated throughout Westford.

"Carrying their names on our shoulders, we…"

As a swordmaster and the branch manager of the Westford association castle, the weapon that he wielded was no ordinary tool.

-Ooooooooooooooooong!

"...even with tears…"

After his soul shaking words, a golden blade, a masterpiece of one of the best blacksmiths of the world, a relic in its own marit, and the blade that had conquered calamities around the world materialised before him.

"...must move on."

A golden Aura shot out from the blade and exploded above the great city like a firework visible in broad daylight.

The light that fell from this explosion brought a new warmth to the city, and at the same time, it eased the heaviness that was present in each home.

As his sword and Aura, something you do not see outside of a battlefield vanished, he had retired back to the podium, a new expression of positive seriousness present on him.

{ "The Westford will not succumb to the dungeon's wicked wishes. We will move forward, we will conquer this dungeon, and we will get back ten fold to what it had taken from us." }

Aria, who had witnessed the display of power from her seat, could not help but grab Reddy's hand, her heart raising with excitement and a fragment of fear.

'Power…'

That right there, was what ruled this world.

Skills? Magic? Weapons?

All of it was meaningless in front of simple, overwhelming power.

'And yet…'

The owner of this overwhelming power was feeling helpless right now.

{ "Let us move forward together and send off the souls of these brave adventurers who fell on a battlefield with honor, bringing victory to us all even at the cost of their precious lives." }

He could not save these people even though he was right there.

And this, even though no one other than Aria could tell, had made him feel a kind of helplessness that no one here might ever understand.

'He's strong.'

And yet, he could not save people who passed away right in front of his eyes.

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