Retire 368
by Cristae368 The Anchor of Toulon (2)
Anchor of Toulon is a ten-person guild. For a guild named after its city, it’s small, but ten years ago, it had over fifty members and was the city’s representative guild.
Funès didn’t want to share all the details with an outsider. Fortunately, Woo Heejae didn’t pry into guild affairs, even after noticing the old group photo hanging by the office entrance.
“So, how many people are participating in the raid?”
“With you, twelve.”
“Twelve? That’s not many for an S-rank dungeon.”
“The dungeon’s structure is tricky. Even if you bring more people, it doesn’t help much. It just increases the risk of casualties.”
Funès explained calmly.
“Two of them are mages I know.”
“Mages… for the platforms?”
“That’s right.”
True to its nickname, the Hanging Garden dungeon off Toulon’s coast consisted of floating islands, defying gravity. Fifteen islands in total. The dungeon core was on the island furthest from the gate. Covered in blue trees and brilliantly colored flowers, the fifteen islands had earned the dungeon its name.
And circling above those islands, a monster: an eagle with a five-meter wingspan.
There simply weren’t many places to stand. More people just meant more food for the eagle.
“Well… the islands are small, too. What kind of magic do the invited mages use? For making platforms, I mean.”
“Glass. One can make stairs. The other’s a shield specialist.”
“Because of the eagle?”
“To protect the mages.”
Woo Heejae listened with a thoughtful, ambiguous expression.
“…That makes sense.”
Funès could guess what he was thinking. For someone who’d asked for Hong Seok-young, this must seem like a trivial dungeon. There were no monsters that had devoured hundreds of Hunters, no labyrinth to break through.
That’s why the government had refused their request. Funès knew it better than anyone. Why the government said no, why none of his contacts replied to his requests.
No one wanted to waste time on a dungeon like this.
So, wasn’t that why Hong Seok-young chose it as his disciple’s debut? Small, low risk. But S-rank was still S-rank.
Funès even welcomed that calculation.
But Woo Heejae said something Funès hadn’t expected at all.
“This dungeon is far too dangerous to leave so close to the city.”
“…Huh?”
Funès made a dumbfounded sound. His nephew Romain, who’d followed him to the office, did the same.
“The real problem is if flying monsters get out. If they escape, they’re hard to chase, and the damage could be catastrophic.”
Romain stared at Woo Heejae, mouth agape.
Normally, Funès would scold his nephew for looking so clueless, but he was just as stunned.
“There’s an airport here, right?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. There is. How did you know?”
“…I flew in through the airport.”
“Ah, right…”
“A city with an airport and flying monsters? France—and all of Europe—could have its skies closed for three months. I don’t understand why the French government refused to clear this.”
“……”
Funès blinked.
“If it were me, I’d have cleared this one first…”
He’d never imagined he’d hear that from a Hunter who’d come all the way from the other side of the world.
Funès broke into a broad smile.
“Exactly! That’s what I’ve been saying!”
“Um… but Master, aren’t you joining the raid? You said the guild’s numbers…”
“Well, that’s because my uncle—”
Funès, flustered, waved his nephew aside.
“My leg’s the reason.”
He pulled up his right pant leg. Where muscle should have flexed beneath the skin, there was instead a prosthetic, shaped to mimic the lines of real muscle.
Woo Heejae’s face flickered with embarrassment. Funès grinned mischievously.
“Ten years with this thing. You can’t even tell, can you?”
“…Well.”
“No need to apologize. If anything, I should apologize for calling you here and not even joining the raid.”
Funès laughed heartily. After losing his right leg ten years ago, he’d given up entering dungeons, but he hadn’t given up being a Hunter.
Woo Heejae, quick on the uptake, said nothing more. Funès liked him more and more.
“Well, the other guild members will all be here this afternoon. Why don’t you rest until then?”
Told to rest, but Woo Heejae attended every Anchor of Toulon meeting without fail.
Maybe that was his way of relaxing. It must be hard to just sit around before a raid, and it was important to get to know the people he’d be working with.
Usually, when a Hunter is invited from outside, they’re made the raid leader. If Hong Seok-young had come as requested, he would have been in charge.
But Woo Heejae was too young and inexperienced for that. Funès didn’t agree he lacked experience, but he did agree his résumé was too short for others to accept him as leader. Woo Heejae seemed to know this best, and never asked for the role.
Funès liked him more and more.
“Wow!”
Then, as Woo Heejae and the guild members practiced working together before entering the dungeon, Funès had to correct his last misconception.
Exclamations erupted from all around. Romain threw his hands up and cheered.
If Funès hadn’t seen Hong Seok-young fight up close in a dungeon, he might have been just as awestruck as his nephew.
But Funès had seen Hong in action, even if it was long ago. He could never forget that overwhelming presence: the silence as if all the air had been sucked away, the sharpened senses, the whirlwind of magical power.
Unforgettable.
Even ten years from now, Funès would recognize Hong Seok-young’s spear.
But he didn’t have to wait ten years—right now, before his eyes, Hong’s movements were being perfectly reproduced.
‘…Disciple?’
Yes. No one could move like that unless they were truly a disciple.
‘But how?’
Hong Seok-young is one of the world’s busiest Hunters. He trained a disciple? In secret? How?
How?
Well, he could have trained a disciple. Even as busy as he is, Hong works mostly in his own country, so it wouldn’t be impossible to find the time.
But if so, word would have gotten out. His disciple wouldn’t just pop up out of nowhere, perfectly copying Hong’s every move!
“…You.”
In the end, Funès had to ask.
“…Disciple, really?”
Though the word was left out, Woo Heejae understood immediately.
He nodded.
“Yes, well. I’m his disciple.”
“I had no idea he had such a grown-up disciple.”
“It wasn’t really something to announce.”
Woo Heejae put away his spear. There was no more need to test his skills. The other guild members, too, were impressed—so that’s what you’d expect from his disciple.
But Woo Heejae looked oddly reluctant.
“I never planned to become a Hunter. So, well. That’s how it is.”
“You can’t just leave it at that, can you?”
“You never planned to be a Hunter?”
“Life doesn’t always go the way you want.”
“That’s true, but…”
Funès almost pressed further, but stopped. He remembered the suspicious résumé that had flashed before his eyes.
Better not to dig too deep. Instinct told him so. Don’t forget: the Association vouched for him. Funès, with his own body no longer whole, had no desire to get further entangled in Association business.
“Seeing your skills puts my mind at ease!”
Funès raised his voice. That was the signal to end the conversation. Woo Heejae accepted it.
“I’ll do my best.”
“Coming back in one piece is the most important thing.”
“This is my first dungeon raid representing my teacher’s name. If I fail, I won’t be able to face him when I return.”
“Still, don’t be reckless.”
“You don’t have to worry.”
“Uncle worries too much. Hey, Woo! Don’t worry, just trust me, okay?”
“You’re the one I’m most worried about, you rascal!”
“Uncle!”
The other guild members burst out laughing.
Woo Heejae smiled faintly and shook his head. Funès felt relieved, seeing the quiet young man finally relax among strangers.
Nine Anchor of Toulon guild members. Two guest mages. One external Hunter.
Three days after this conversation, the twelve-person raid party entered the dungeon.
As guild master and non-participating raid member, all Funès could do was check potions and supplies, and review and revise the raid plan.
For a man once called the Guardian of Southern France, it was a humble job.
Of course, if the guild members who had followed him for years, or his nephew who became a Hunter out of respect for him, had heard that, they’d have scolded him for saying something so foolish.
Funès knew that, so he took pride in his work, even if he had to force it. Leading the young was a job only a veteran could do, he told himself.
But the one who would have been angriest to hear such thoughts was not the Anchor of Toulon or Romain, but someone Funès would never meet—not in this timeline. In a future that no longer exists.
In that vanished future, the Hanging Garden of Toulon’s gate would collapse on a beautiful summer’s day two years from now. The Anchor of Toulon, including guild master Nicolas de Funès, would perish protecting the citizens. When it became known that Funès had long pleaded with the government to clear the dungeon, France’s government would face harsh criticism.
But in the present, the Hanging Garden was destroyed after three days of battle, the core shattered, and the gate vanished without incident.
Returning from the dungeon, the external Hunter, Woo Heejae, expressed his respect to Funès.
“Thanks to you, we were able to clear the dungeon.”
“What? Why thank me? It was your hard work.”
“No.”
Woo Heejae shook his head. His steady gaze met the prosthetic-legged Hunter’s.
“It was thanks to the plan you made, Master. You considered the monsters’ habits and devised multiple routes, which made it easy for us to adapt. I’ve never had such a smooth raid before.”
“R-really?”
“Woo’s right, Master! You always find the best route.”
“We’d have been lost without you.”
“Brag about it, why don’t you!”
The Hunters, just back from the raid, covered in blood and dust, noisily offered their thanks. Funès blinked. His eyes burned.
“If I could, I’d invite you to our school to give a lecture on raid planning.”
“…School?”
“High school. I’m actually a teacher.”
Funès looked at Woo Heejae.
The young man smiled as he spoke of his talented students, his face gentle—nothing like someone who’d just come back from a dungeon.