They hadn’t even cleared the dungeon yet, but the forest suddenly gave way to a clearing—broad and damp, with water trickling across smooth stone. At its heart stood a creature far larger than any they’d encountered before.

  A Lesser Hydra.

  Not quite as massive as the four-headed beasts recorded in the higher dungeons, but still monstrous. It stood several meters tall, its two heads twisting in opposite directions, watching, tasting the air.

  Behind it, half-hidden in the brush, were the surviving Green Lizardmen. They weren’t fleeing. They were kneeling in the backline. Chanting.

  Kana narrowed her eyes. She could hear their voices—but not comprehend the words. A language foreign to any she knew. Still, the intent was clear.

  A familiar shimmer of light flashed before their eyes—divine, unreadable text only visible to those with a connection.

  [The Dungeon Boss has arrived!]

  Leo jolted. The others remained focused.

  Kana pulled her bow free from her back. The string hummed as she nocked an arrow.

  Suri whispered, casting her illusion. Light bent around the hydra’s heads, confusing it—their movements faltered, each head reacting differently, as if fighting a reflection only it could see.

  Boris, already charging, said nothing. His spear glinted as [Giant Spear] activated, the weapon stretching with unknown force.

  Kana loosed a shot. The arrow flew straight, embedding itself in the right hydra head.

  It shrieked, sound splitting through the clearing.

  The illusion puffed like smoke, vanishing into thin air.

  Both heads turned toward Kana.

  The beast charged.

  But Boris was ready.

  With one clean, devastating overhead strike, he severed the wounded head. It fell with a thud into the shallow water. He stepped forward, spinning for another—

  But the head began to grow back.

  Right before their eyes.

  Kana clicked her tongue. Of course. Hydras. Even the lesser ones. Regeneration was part of their lore. A lore—she knew the meaning but that word was not.. No meaning. She was sure of it. She was confused for a second. She swayed her head. Focus Kana. Lesser Hydras were not known for their insane speed regeneration; it was supposedly unique to Great hydras?

  She was about to call out a warning when she caught something—whispers again. The Green Lizardmen. Still muttering from behind the hydra.

  Support casters? Her gut twisted. She reacted instantly.

  Four arrows. No hesitation.

  Each found its mark—one for every Green Lizardman who were chanting behind the lesser hydra..

  The chanting stopped.

  The hydra hissed. Both heads recoiled in agitation.

  Boris struck again.

  Another clean cut. Then he jumped back. Observed for a few seconds. The head hit the ground—and this time, nothing grew back though Boris remained alert in the distance he didn’t want to get caught by the lesser hydra’s spit that melted the stones whenever it touched it.

  Kana’s eyes widened. Realization clicked into place.

  It was them. The Green Lizardmen were healing it. Channeling supports type of magic through their bond.

  It was supposedly her first time witnessing someone else giving a buff to a dungeon monster but it was strangely so familiar. Like she encountered it before.. Though she felt it was from a much safer environment.

  She raised her voice and she was sure. “The support’s down. It won’t regenerate anymore!”

  “Got it.” Boris grinned.

  The lesser hydra reared up for a final attack, tail lashing out. Boris raised his spear, took the hit against his side, braced his stance—then surged forward and cleanly cut the final head from its neck.

  The body collapsed with a splash, water rippling around its bulk body.

  Silence returned to the clearing.

  Only the sound of dripping water, and Leo’s breath—fast, uneven.

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  [The dungeon boss has been defeated!]

  Kana looked at the party window.

  Was it slower than before? She couldn’t remember but Leo only gained two levels.

  “No item dropped this time. Again.” Suri sighed as her illusions returned to her.

  …………..

  It was ironic.

  After hours of traveling, they found themselves back at the same resting spot as before. The same crooked tree. The same cracked stone circle from someone’s old campfire. Familiar in a way that made Kana’s bones ache with quiet déjà vu.

  “Kana,” Leo said, breaking the silence as he adjusted his bag, “Todd told me the orphanage house will be ready in two weeks—based on the layout you described.”

  Kana blinked.

  Two weeks? That didn’t make sense. A building that size should take months. Years, even, depending on the materials and labor. Had she misremembered the scale?

  “Is the house already built?” she asked, wondering if maybe it was just a renovation.

  Leo shook his head. “No, nothing was there. Todd hired a couple of [Mage]—earth variants.”

  Ah. That explained it.

  She gave a small nod. Right. Earth mages could accelerate construction—lift stone, shape foundations, create walls in minutes. Expensive, but fast.

  “You should be ready to adopt the kids soon,” Boris said, stretching his arms. “No point building an orphanage without orphans.”

  Kana nodded. “I’m planning to get kids under ten or eleven. No parents.”

  The ones with guardians would take time—months of paperwork, background checks, tough screenings. And if the child had already awakened? That would throw the whole process into bureaucratic hell.

  Suri was seated nearby, arms resting on her knees, eyes half-lidded. “I already mapped out the slum district using my illusion. I’ll guide you to them when you’re ready. I’m not sure about their exact ages, but I’ve got fifty-two under watch.”

  Kana turned, surprised. “You already—?”

  “I figured you’d be too busy with paperwork,” Suri interrupted casually, brushing her bangs aside. “Besides, someone has to make the first move.”

  She didn’t mention the others. The ones with acting parents—adults who kept more than two or three children and collected their coin after a day of begging on the streets. Not all of them beat the kids, but too many did. Suri knew. She’d watched long enough to tell.

  She kept that part to herself.

  Kana looked at her. “Thank you.”

  But in her mind, something had already shifted into motion.

  This time, she would help Kana. No matter what it took. And Kana didn’t need to know. Not about the planning. Not about the work. Not about the parts. Suri was willing to play in the shadows.

  Two weeks. That was all she had.

  Two weeks to clear out the rot festering in the Slum District.

  They deserved better.

  And Suri would make sure they got it.

  ….

  Roa scratched the back of her head, her hair knotting around her fingers. Something didn’t add up.

  The suspect was in the academy. That much she was sure of. But it wasn’t the [Esper]. That had been a dead lead.

  She leaned back in her chair, eyes drifting toward the plain envelope on the edge of her desk—just delivered from Pit. Inside were documents flagged as New information regarding students heading to the northern expedition.

  Roa sighed. “This is either going to help,” she muttered, “or bury me in more questions.”

  She tore it open anyway.

  The first few pages were standard: names, classes, roles. She skimmed quickly, prioritizing senior students—third and fourth years. Names she’d already memorized. Faces she could recall with precision.

  No anomalies. Not yet.

  Then she reached the list of first-years.

  Copper Class.

  She nearly skipped it.

  But something… tickled the back of her mind.

  Check it anyway.

  Her eyes ran down the column. Halfway through, she froze.

  Suri of the Saltrain Village. Role: Scout.

  That shouldn’t have stood out. But Suri was supposedly a support class . And support was a mana type of class. She wasn’t a scout type of class for sure.

  Roa narrowed her eyes and reached for the older dossier—her personal notes compiled from weeks of surveillance. She flipped through the pages until she found it.

  Suri. Support class. Ability: Illusion—colored, random. Minor utility. No combat application.

  That was all. A footnote.

  But if Suri’s illusion could do more—if it was capable of scouting in a meaningful way…

  Roa sat forward, blood thrumming. A student in Copper Class with unreported capabilities? That wasn’t just a gap in intel. That was a liability. A crack in the wall she hadn’t seen. That was why they couldn’t find them.

  They were step ahead.

  She stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the stone floor.

  “Suri might not be the mastermind,” she murmured, tucking the files under her arm. “But she might be part of it…”

  Roa pushed open the door to her rented room, the wood creaking on old hinges.

  She tossed the folder onto the table, eyes narrowing as she replayed the details in her mind. A support class—mana-based, no less—functioning as a scout? That didn’t add up.

  She dropped into the chair and flipped open the report again.

  Three names.

  Same year.

  Same class.

  Same village.

  Saltrain.

  Her fingers drummed against the edge of the table as the pieces clicked together.

  Not a coincidence. Not anymore.

  Roa leaned back, a grin slowly curling onto her lips.

  Finally, a lead.

  It was time to watch the students from Saltrain Village.