222 - - one of the most distinguished men of all ages ago

The decaying building was made of blackened stone, as if stained by darkness.

The walls were chipped off in places, and only one of the rusted iron gates barely remained.

However, the presence of the abandoned house was unique even in this miasma-infested swamp.

Beyond the blackened entrance, a stairway leading to the bottom of the earth could be seen.

The building itself is a labyrinth that has been engulfed by the noxious gas and continues to give birth to countless monsters.

It is the only remaining above-ground portion of the abandoned underground prison.

A friendly voice calls out to Balconia, who has been silently staring at the darkness lying in the depths of the ruins.

"Are you already thinking about what you've been through?　You're quick, you blabbermouth."

"............Yes, just imagining it makes my heart dance."

Chiru of the Storm Peak Alliance and I used to be distant partners.

However, through the past two weeks of joint efforts, we have come to the point where we can even talk lightly with each other.

But it seems that this was only a temporary fix.

Balconia had the opposite in mind.

He came here eight years ago.

He was transferred at the request of his home country, Zuma, to help out Stratchia and others in the Kongo class.

Since that day, Balconia has devoted himself to the shadows and has supported the "White Gold Flame".

It was he who created the structure of confrontation among the three factions and placed a limit on the number of Mud Poison Giants that could be defeated.

If he had not done so, the Witches of Lore might have overcome the prison and reached the edge of the swamp by now.

Whenever there is a vacancy in the Flame of Platinum, the best and most bland men are chosen to fill it.

The rest of the day is spent looking at the gloomy, muddy landscape, clearing the paths for Straccia and the others to pass through, and entertaining them at the encampment.

He had the option, in fact, of joining the "white gold flame" himself.

In his home country, Balconia was known as the "talkative flame wielder" because of his ability to perform a series of magical moves.

He could have been just as effective as Ninessa, another flame user.

However, Barconia was very reluctant to participate in dungeon exploration.

The reason is simple: she does not like dark and narrow places.

He had consulted in various temples and visited renowned physicians, but all these efforts were in vain.

A man who gave up on his quest to become a great man because of a minor stumbling block.

Such was Balconia.

But because he is such a man, he has many things on his mind.

In particular, he has recently had to deal with the fact that Bossalia used a precious relic that should have sealed off the underground prison, and he has been sick to his stomach every day because of the reckless demands of his home country that he should just keep on stalling for time to clean up the mess.

Then came the arrival of a hero who was rumored to have saved Bossaria.

However, the man who was supposed to be a new spark of fire gathered everyone together and said

"Won't you join me in defeating the witch?

I'm not sure.

These are words that should be laughed out of the room.

Furthermore, from the standpoint of Balcony, there is no reason to cooperate in such a dangerous act as the defeat of the witches of folklore.

Rather, it was a matter of obstruction.

However, the miracles wrought by Thor and the others stirred the heart of a man who had been sleeping as if he were dead.

No way, but, but ...... no, maybe....

And then a thought arises in Barconia's mind.

It is a small bubble at first, but soon it fills the inside of his skull.

--He could not carve his name on the map as a hero, but he might be able to carve his name in books and songs as a hero.

Perhaps, win or lose, Barconia will leave this swamp, since he has disobeyed the instructions of his home country.

We can only feel rather refreshed about that.

The only regret is that this time we will not be able to witness the chaos that will ensue from the large number of Kongo class that will be born.

Once again, as a farewell, Barconia looked at the entrance to the underground prison that he had never been able to enter.

Then he takes a deep breath and brings his gaze back to the front.

The whole field of vision is filled with red logs pieced together, with no space between them.

Beyond them, a humanoid figure lifts itself out of the mud.

And beyond that.

A huge shadow rises like a small mountain.

Shaking his head slightly from side to side, Barconia raised his voice in a high pitch.

"Shall we begin, then? Let us begin this battle that must be told forever!

The battle was on.

Someone's arrows flew and pierced the head of the mud-poisoned giant one after another.

The giant's body shakes and it turns around slowly.

Slowly, he placed his feet made of mud on the log.

"Shieldmen, please pack your feet! The club will be much less powerful there. Warriors and swordsmen, please move calmly to the rear. From the tree of liberation, come and join us. It's not a good place. Shall I pull it a little forward? Taste for yourselves a glimpse of the power of the great flame.

As soon as she finishes speaking, a fireball is produced from the tip of Balconia's staff.

It arcs through the air and hits the giant in the head.

A new fireball immediately shoots out from it and hits the monster's shoulder or back, vaporizing the mud and drilling it heavily.

If a normal fire-user had fired from this position, there is no doubt that the irregularly scattered fireballs would have caused a great deal of damage to his allies.

However, every single one of Balconian fire rains down on the Titan's body.

The other factions were amazed at the impossible precision of the control.

Balconia's eyes narrowed as the giant's head, which had been severely chipped off, did not immediately return to its original shape.

And the chatter continues.

"Well, that's a good feeling. It seems that the supply of mud is significantly reduced thanks to the red tree. Let's go all in at once here. It will be easier if we kill the first one. Oh, they should be coming soon, so water users, get ready. Here, now!

While Balconia continues to speak, the red-haired swordsman seems to have closed the distance.

He strikes the giant in the back of the knees with his weight on the long sword.

His body spins around in a circle.

The blade, glowing red with crimson, spins once more and slices the monster's leg off in a brilliant motion.

The mud-poisoned giant leans forward, but its mouth is wide open.

At the same time, a black mist-like substance spurts out and scatters around the area.

As the name suggests, it is the breath of a noxious poison that consumes the body.

"O Lord of the Tree of Life! Give me a drop of your water for my children who are in agony.

Immediately, the water users who had been waiting for them purified the anomalies of the human condition they were in charge of.

The shieldmen all lifted their shields to catch the clubs of buried trees that were swung down at them.

Then the silver blades swung again.

More rays of red flame pour out, burning through their bodies bit by bit.

Deprived of the means of recovery, the mud-poisoned giant returns to the mud with its spirit core destroyed by someone else's attack in less than 30 minutes.

While everyone was in a state of shock at this sudden victory, there were other beings who reacted to its death.

The mountain on the other side of the muddy sea seemed to cringe slightly, and its face turned to a small group of people.

At the same time, a large hole appears at the bottom of the nose that sticks out like a fold.

From there, a pure white mist erupted at a tremendous rate.

The black mud was quickly covered by the biting cold air.

The horrifying vortex of air enveloped Barconia and the others in an instant, leaving them no time to escape.