The Many-robed One sat cross-legged on the stone floor and stared into the dense darkness of the tunnel before him. The lengths of his many black robes trailed in a lightly billowing circle around him as the cracks in the rough rock emit breaths of air. The magma-like fluid of the strange place lapped against the sides like small waves slowly eroding a cliff side.

The air must have been warm, the robed one thought for the thousandth time since he'd been trapped in this place. He wouldn't feel the warmth through his many robes and scarves. Even if his bare skin was exposed there would still be nothing. He'd lost that part of himself long ago.

He stared at his gloved hand for a moment and traced his finger like a meticulous cartographer along the folds in his palm. When this motion lost its appeal he slowly pulled off the glove. One finger at a time, he worked the lengths free until they hung empty. He dangled them side to side and hesitated before revealing the entirety of his hand. The pale skin emit a dull glow and vibrated along the contours of webbed flesh and unnaturally long, gnarled fingers.

The robed individual regarded the cracks in the floor briefly before inserting two of his fingers until they reached to the second joint. After a few seconds, he removed them and examined the blackened skin that resulted from the hot fluid.

He felt nothing. The charred, crusty skin bubbled and seemed to fold in upon itself and was replaced by the original, ghostly-white hue. Within his fingers, the Many-robed One saw the blackness fade to nothingness, as if his body had consumed and purged it.

Inflicting such self-harm was a reminder that he would never feel the unblemished, soft skin of a wonderful beastkin mother trapped in a certain oasis. He'd only ever felt the cold bite of her blade and the sting of her sharp nails – suitable for a beastkin of her kind. He regretted not seizing the opportunity for just a simple brush against skin. If only he'd reached out to caress her face.

Rinka had simply been too powerful. He didn't stand a chance against her back then. But now...

“Leader.”

The Many-robed One lifted his gaze from the web of cracks that continued to spread along the floor. He didn't realize until the voice woke him from his ruminations that many of the cracks now trailed directly beneath him.

He chuckled to himself. I could've burned my genitals. Not that it really mattered, but the thought of it was still amusing.

He lowered the front of his hood to conceal his eyes and turned to regard the dark behemoth standing behind him. More of the fluid poured from the walls, and the crimson tattoos on the large monster seemed to absorb the soft glow and reinvigorate it with an ethereal light. One of them stood prominent on the demon's chest, a depiction of a winged, bipedal creature removing the head of a human soldier in armor. The demon tugged at the topaz collar around his neck, arms flexing and bulging with the simple movement.

“Yes, Div'gen?” the robed leader asked.

The towering demon, Div'gen, lowered his arm and cocked his head towards another tunnel a short ways along the cavern's arched wall. “They found it,” he answered in his deep voice. As usual, it seemed to echo all around them despite the lowered tone.

The Many-robed One nodded. “I see.”

He made no indication of moving. He returned to staring into the eternal darkness of the tunnel in front of him. The impatience from the demon behind him was palpable, based on his extended releases of breath and the shift of his feet.

It was a different sort of agitation compared to the lack of sun, unperceived time and absence of clear purpose. He understood that his subordinates desired all these things. Everything they wished for resided on the surface, and they'd been trapped in the labyrinth for so long. But they were so close to the end now.

The leader relieved his subordinate of the uncomfortable silence. “Div'gen, why did I choose you for my inner circle?”

The behemoth released another breath of air, longer this time as he considered his leader's words. The demon folded his arms and made it a point to stand straighter.

“I'm sure you have many reasons,” Div'gen answered at length. “My experience in the war twenty years ago, my faith,” he paused a moment and stared at the ceiling, “And my lack of desire for a contract.”

The Many-robed One raised a finger at the conclusion of the last bit. “Precisely. And one other thing.” He rested a hand over his scarf. “Your brutish appearance and the nature of your kind is also quite deceptive. You harbor a patience that few possess, and an acumen that would rival my own if given the amount of years that time has deigned to provide me.”

The leader allowed himself a small grin that folded his scarf a bit as he examined the perplexed look on the demon's face. Div'gen's mouth opened as if he were about to say something, but he immediately clamped it shut when he noticed the leader's gaze focused intently on him. To his credit, he managed to collect himself and maintain his visual persona of barely-contained belligerence.

“What is this all about?” Div'gen asked. He lowered his voice even further and spared a glance to the tunnel to make sure the rest of their comrades weren't within earshot. The masked twins and Korv should have been waiting for them at their destination that was at least an extensive ten minute walk.

The Many-robed One stood and turned to face him fully. He let his arms hang easily at his sides. His hands vanished into the long sleeves of the robe.

“My facility beneath Lamfell has been exposed,” he said simply.

The demon went rigid and clenched his fists upon hearing the news. “That is troubling, to say the least.”

“Did the Twins mention if Alphonse Kneller used his contract recently?”

The demon seemed taken aback by the sudden question. “No, nothing about that. Why? Does he have something to do with it?”

The leader didn't respond to the answer immediately. He stared at the floor and nodded to himself. He'd seen the battle against the corrupted ogre outside of Lamfell. Well, it was more accurate to say that he read about it using the special function of his contract, the one similar to Rinka's. The lime-green text of the contract had presented him with a few key occurrences happening on the surface. He imagined that Rinka had interpreted them as well.

The Construct Contract had no way of depicting exact details through its foreign language, but it was certainly enough to grasp a broad sense of events. The battle against the ogre had clearly been a brutal one, and there were no signs that the human had used his contract to make a deal for pulling his comrades out of the dire situation. The Twins not mentioning it also served as some extra confirmation.

After the battle, the first layer of the dungeon beneath Lamfell had been revealed. It was no mere coincidence.

“Do not fret, Div'gen. This is not a setback,” the leader said. “Alphonse Kneller may have been the last one to receive a contract, but he was not the final player. With this bold act of revealing my dungeon, all six players in our game are now accounted for."

Div'gen rested a hand under his chin and let his shoulders slump a bit as he considered the leader's words. “So, the last contract holder has revealed himself. He has forced us to play the long game,” the demon surmised. “With all the monster activity at the western border, and now a dungeon revealed so close to Tevilandis's capital, their High Council will have no choice but to act and bolster their defenses.”

The robed leader gave him an appreciative look that was partially obscured by his hood and scarf. This was why he valued the violent demon most of all. Despite Div'gen's contentious looks and lust for violence, there was an intelligence underneath the fierce surface. The passionate vehemence was genuine and sometimes unrestrained, but in these times of contemplation the demon certainly held the aptitude for careful insight.

“Every owner of a Construct Contract is provided with a special function based on the discarded remnants of the System,” the Many-robed One said, pacing to the side and gazing around the cavern.

“My contract and Rinka's allow us to observe the world through its unique language – a language created by the ancient peoples that once-resided on Hovestile. Korv was once a great general, and his contract allowed him to communicate and issue commands with all of his forces, no matter his location. The Twins are able to determine when and how another contract is used. The reason for their ability is still a mystery.”

He stopped at one of the walls and tapped a set of parallel cracks that oozed some of the hot substance. “And our final player to the game is nothing more than a copycat, someone who desires to be like others and is never satisfied with the qualities and powers he possesses. But it is important to always have a copy as backup."

There were a number of theories the robed one considered concerning how the sixth player managed to accomplish such a powerful surge of mana. In the end, there was only one possibility that seemed remotely plausible.

The leader read Div'gen's questioning look and proceeded to explain, “It is still just a theory, but I believe the sixth player used the ability of Korv's contract and manipulated some of his forces – specifically, the ogres. The mana surge immediately following their deaths can't possibly be a coincidence. Their sense of pride was perfect for creating hosts of corrupted mana, which fed a delayed spell planted within the dungeon. I imagine he utilized them as a sort of trigger for the surge where some of my research was stored. Pretty clever, if I do say so myself.”

Div'gen shook his head as he struggled to comprehend the explanation. “I do not have your knowledge of spells, but how could he possibly trigger a delayed spell to release your stores of mana? He couldn't be present to activate them.”

“Corrupted mana,” the leader answered. “It is knowledge that only a few possess. Even the highest-tier casters of the three kingdoms lack the knowledge to fully comprehend it. As you know, all mana has a signature. Spells can only be manipulated by mana of the same signature. One caster may not interfere with the spell of another caster for this reason. But corrupted mana has many signatures. The result is devastating. It blackens the mana and constantly emits from the body through harming the host.”

The demon nodded as he pieced the puzzle together. “The sixth player corrupted the ogres with his own mana signature to continuously feed the delayed spells. So, how did he activate them then?”

The robed leader raised a finger in a commendable gesture. “Now that is the correct question. It was the final detail that had me questioning the intricacies of such a plan. It is actually possible to tether an individual over great distances to a prepared spell. Spellcasters usually plant delayed spells on their staffs and in areas where they anticipate a battle will take place. The spell is already prepared, and the caster may activate it with just a little nudge from a small bit of mana. It is an excellent method for conserving said mana.

“But if the spellcaster is too great a distance from the spell and it is out of sight, then it is impossible to direct the mana effectively. And so, a method was created to use mana to tether a caster to a delayed spell and sever the connection to activate it. The drawback is distance. The greater the distance, the more mana that is required to maintain the tether.”

“He needed this mana released through the tethers to reach the delayed spell he planted in the facility. And the deaths of the ogres eventually severed the tether,” Div'gen said.

The leader folded his arms and stared at the floor. “Indeed, his mana pool must be impressive. Though I imagine he made a deal with his contract a long time ago to obtain such vast mana stores. The price must have been heavy. This also means we cannot take this foe lightly. He is clearly willing to take drastic measures. I'm certain this whole plot was to reveal the true monster threat to Tevilandis.”

Div'gen spit on the floor as he caught on to the full explanation. “So, wait, you're telling me that this madman sacrificed an entire village just to spur the High Council to action?”

The robed leader nodded. “What is one small village compared to the bigger picture? It's clear that nothing short of a catastrophe would invoke the appropriate response from Tevilandis.”

The demon grunted. “That sort of planning would've taken years. And how would Korv not know about it?”

The robed leader raised his hands and clapped his palms together. “Another excellent question. I am certain that Korv was aware of it. There is still a part of Devolio Malkin that resides within him. However, there is no way that Korv was privy to the full extent of the other contract holder's plan. If he had been, then he would've never attacked Alphonse Kneller with his Siren.

“The other contract holder revealed himself since he was not aware that we had forced Korv to dismiss the special function of his contract. It was a brilliant and ruthless plan that sacrificed so many lives, all with the intention of placing the blame on our mentally-deranged Korv. I might have debated it for a while if I didn't already know of his existence in the first place, but it still would have left me speculating as to whether Korv outright betrayed me. Unfortunately for this third party, we were left with only one indisputable result.”

Div'gen remained silent throughout the leader's explanation, but it was impossible for him to conceal the awe and respect on his face upon hearing the sound deduction.

In the end, the sixth player still succeeded in his initial goal: to hammer home the truth about the monster threat and spur Tevilandis to action. The High Council could no longer remain in their false sense of security with such a catastrophic event at their doorstep. Furthermore, if they had acted on the monster threat at the western border when they first received the news, then their forces wouldn't have been spread so thin. Tevilandis needed to defend the border, establish a perimeter around the dungeon and also worry about the constant possibility of disguised monsters within their city.

All of their seemingly small, insignificant choices led to many bigger problems.

“I once heard of a phrase from a human merchant during my time in Xersceld,” the Many-robed One said. He folded his arms as he attempted to recall the exact words. “What was it again? Ah, yes, he referred to a similar situation as 'management by crisis.' Do you know what that means, Div'gen?”

The demon didn't take long to answer, based on the context of their discussion, “It means to take action as the threat is happening. You would just be reacting without preparation.”

The leader bowed to him with a flourish at the acceptable answer. “Very good. You see, that is the difference between us and them. I suspected the possibility of Tevilandis being spurred to action, and I also anticipated a number of decisions from their High Council. The adventurers on the other hand, well, they are an entirely different concern, especially with the existence of the outworlders. Even I am not capable of planning for everything.”

He went silent for a moment as he considered what further information to provide. It was risky, but necessary. “And with that being said, I believe it is time I reveal my full intentions, my dear comrade.”

He nodded to himself. Yes, the time was now. If he didn't reveal the entirety of his plan, then he feared that the trust from his most loyal comrade would waver. Every pillar needed reinforcing. They'd been wandering this labyrinth for too long with little explanation. The surface world was slowly descending into chaos as the monsters once under their control ran rampant throughout the land. There needed to be order once they escaped, and it would be impossible without the full allegiance of his subordinates.

He carefully observed Div'gen. The demon relaxed his arms to mirror the leader's stance. This was no longer a conversation between leader and subordinate. In this moment, they were on equal footing. The Many-robed One made this abundantly clear with his declaration.

“Do you doubt my trust?” Div'gen asked. His mouth twisted on one side in an expression that might've been frustration, but the leader found himself pleasantly surprised when he failed to read his emotions fully.

He let out a soft chuckle. “Now? No. But in time, it is to be expected.”

“I can't argue with what hasn't come to pass,” Div'gen responded. “You may be right.”

Another silence descended on them, this one far more comfortable compared to the one previous.

The Many-robed One raised his hands a bit before freezing in place. He considered his actions for a precious extra few seconds before his fingers grasped the sides of his hood. He slowly pulled it back to reveal the cloth gripping his head. Two mounds pressed against the fabric until he removed the makeshift bandanna to reveal a pair of feline ears. The leader's irises shifted colors in the growing light in the cavern. The narrow pupils that should have been black throbbed with something more akin to crimson.

Div'gen inclined his head slightly upon seeing the cat ears, but his gaze never wavered. He watched as the beastkin took a few careful strides around the cracks in the floor that bubbled and roiled with heat.

“These recent events that transpired will provide us an even greater opportunity,” the Many-robed One continued. “However, it demands further patience on our part. We must pose a number of questions: How long will the northern kingdom of Xersceld restrain itself with Tevilandis facing an enemy at their doorstep? Will this embolden the beastkin of the Eastern Kingdom, or will they quell their hatred and fight alongside the humans when the threat becomes untenable?”

The demon nodded slowly as the many answers culminated into one distinct conclusion. “You're counting on a war,” he said. “But we won't participate. At least, not at first.”

“Precisely!” Div'gen took a startled step back as the robed beastkin suddenly raised his voice.

“And what of Rinka's champion?” the leader continued. “We still don't know the true nature of his contract. What of Kirie and Asa? How do they play into this? Why did Rinka choose him?”

The excitement on the cat beastkin's face was all too palpable. Div'gen's eyes widened and his mouth parted slightly. It was invigorating to see the demon show his true emotions.

The large demon failed to hold back his laughter as his leader's full plan clearly dawned on him. He rested his hands on his hips and directed his mirth towards the ceiling.

“You-” the demon cut himself off as he wiped a tear from his eye and realized that his voice was raised a bit. “Now I see why you didn't want to attack him.”

The robed leader nodded and motioned for Div'gen to follow him out of the cavern. They proceeded to the tunnel where he continued their conversation.

“Everything is playing out better than I could've hoped. Since the fall of the ancient Dysian people, no human has ever exercised enough restraint to control the Construct Contract. Devolio Malkin is the perfect example. But Alphonse Kneller...yes, that outworlder human, he didn't even use his contract against what should have been unconquerable odds. The deal of equivalence has always been a test. Imagine what he will gain when he finally learns of the true nature of his contract!”

The demon shook his head. The Many-robed One realized that this was the only part of the plan that still managed to elude him. And he couldn't blame him. Only one who understood the Construct Contracts were capable of such inferences. But with Korv in his crazed state, and the masked twins not being privy to his full plan, only the leader understood the full extent, so he deigned to provide Div'gen with the last piece of the puzzle he had tucked away in his pocket.

“Rinka's champion must only implement the gift of his contract. That part does not require deals of equivalence formed by the ancient alchemist of the Dysian people. The longer he suppresses the inherent human urge for power, the stronger he will become. When the time comes that he is backed into a corner with no escape, he will use the contract's function taught by the alchemist. He will use it to protect his precious family. Alphonse has nothing left. How long can a human's mind handle betrayal at the hands of those he trusts? How long can he remain sane after losing those that are important to him? One day, he will fall. In her heart, Rinka believes he will be different from the others over the course of history.” He raised a finger in conclusion as he recounted the failings of humans in the past. “But I have seen it. In the end, every human fails. The question is: When?”

The robed leader pulled his hood up and halted as he observed the darkness grow faint ahead of them. He realized they were nearly at their destination. Soon, this prison would be behind them, and they could begin their preparations on the surface.

He gave Div'gen a pointed look when he noticed that the demon shared in his mirth.

“The result of humanity is always the same,” he repeated. “Their path is always different, but they all converge at journey's end.”

“And you are certain of this?” Div'gen asked, despite clearly knowing the answer.

The robed leader nodded. “You will soon see that their every accomplishment, every triumph, is nothing more than a hollow gain.”

“And Korv?”

A wide, wicked grin splayed on the beastkin's face, now hidden beneath the scarf. “If we must play the long game, then he will be the perfect scapegoat. Tevilandis can't hide every bit of its dark history for long. And when they learn that he is still alive, they will have the appropriate provenance to blame for the escalation of the monster threat.”

They strode forward together in unison. A beastkin and demon walking side by side and moving towards a common goal.

“Oh, and remind me to give you some more lessons on magic,” the leader added offhandedly. “Such knowledge could save your life against a strong spellcaster. I imagine we will be dealing with a few during the coming months.”

They emerged from the tunnel and gazed over an expansive cavern. The view was only slightly obstructed by the individuals standing at the edge of a cliff overlooking the expanse.

The masked twins turned to regard them with their sightless porcelain masks. They bowed in unison and rested a hand over their breasts. Their fingers were tenderly intertwined as per usual.

“Welcome, dear leader,” they said in unison.

The pale, emaciated demon next to them didn't acknowledge them as he stared around the cavern in absolute wonderment. His tongue lolled from his mouth when he tilted his head too far and nearly lost his balance. He tore at his neck with jagged fingernails from his nervous biting. Blood crawled down his chest and was partially absorbed by the black suit he wore. The fallen general swallowed with a sickening gurgle as the saliva built in his throat.

“I-I want to see them,” Korv chattered mindlessly. “Cute catgirls. Th-the healrings w-will bloom soon? So nice.”

The Many-robed One ignored him and strode forward to stand in front of the young twins. They stared up at him expectantly. After a few seconds of appraisal, the leader rested his hands on both their heads in a gesture of affection.

“You've done well,” he said. “Thanks to your efforts, we will see the sun again.”

He felt the young twins tremble under his hands. A tear trailed along the bottom of the male twin's mask, and his sister embraced him. The robed leader wished he could express his own emotions and share in their happiness, but it was not fitting for one of his stature.

The leader left them to their joy and stood at the very edge of the cliff to gaze upon the many buildings of stone carved into the massive stalagmites and other outcroppings. A narrow bridge extended to a far wall with a path that wrapped around the expanse. He observed an area that appeared to have once been a large plaza. A silent fountain rested at its center with various scatters of flattened debris that might have once been benches.

It was a place of fallen glory.

At the center of the captivating city was an hourglass-shaped structure with a base that melded into the floor and ceiling. He recalled that the grand building was once a library and place of governance, containing a vast selection of old history from the ancient Dysian peoples who created the dungeons underneath the continent. He imagined that this one was as barren as the others – most of the knowledge destroyed or taken to the far reaches of Hovestile, never to be misused again.

The Many-robed One turned to his comrades with a dramatic flourish and spread his arms wide. The hourglass tower stood tall in the distance as a central backdrop to where he stood.

“The time is nearly upon us,” he announced. “Welcome, my dear comrades, to the great city of Hollow'dys Five.”