Princess Renner's entanglent with Monkyspanner stretched back quite a long ti.
When she was still a child, she had already seen through the facade of Dragon's Dream—recognizing it as rely a shell, a front for sothing far more enormous and ominous lurking behind. After reaching out to them with that insight, she was deed qualified to beco a mber of Divine City.
But earning the qualifications didn't an she had beco a mber.
Monkyspanner asked her one question:
"Can you throw away everything you have now—your life, your position, even your na?"
To which Renner replied:
"If I give up everything I have… will I gain sothing even greater in return?"
"That depends on your ability."
"Then… could you wait a little longer? I want to raise my value first."
She wanted to rise higher—not as a re citizen, but from a loftier place where she could grasp more, see more, and hold more sway.
Monkyspanner, unimpressed, simply said she could do as she pleased. After all, once she accepted the "Ring," leaking information was no longer an option.
Designed by Dwarf Governor Alber, refined by Holstein, forged by Tauros, enchanted by Orochi, and sealed by Kaguya, the ring ant for preliminary admission into Divine City was among the finest magic items ever created since their descent into this world.
Its ability to maintain the wearer's body in optimal condition and ensure their safety used only a tiny fraction of its massive magical reserves.
The ring's true function was to completely prevent the wearer from divulging any information about Divine City—no matter the thod.
Once worn, the ring's effect activated imdiately and could not be undone—not by removal, nor by destruction.
No matter what trick she might attempt, the mont Renner accepted and wore the ring, it beca aningless to resist.
Monkyspanner never bothered telling her that. Even if she realized it, it wouldn't have changed a thing.
But what followed… was nothing short of a series of headaches.
The princess made full use of her connection to them—far more efficiently than Monkyspanner had expected.
It started small: minor support and quest requests. He had assud she only cared about herself. But sowhere along the way… she found sothing—soone—she cared about more than herself.
"Could you teach him, please?"
"…He's got no talent. Why waste ti on soone like that?"
"I'd be so grateful if you would. Climb is my knight. I plan to bring him with when I go to join you. Please… I'm begging you."
"…Fine. I'll teach him a little. But the mont he gives up, I'm done."
Climb—that was the boy's na, right? A young man around Renner's age.
Did she… harbor feelings for him? Her, of all people?
It made no sense. But then again, maybe it didn't have to.
So Monkyspanner accepted the kid as a kind-of-sort-of apprentice. He beat him around, shoved techniques into him, and that was that.
For most combat training, sheer repetition and hardship did the trick. Even if his physical limits were clearly capped, knowledge and experience could still sharpen him.
Besides, this world had peculiar abilities known as Martial Arts and Talents—distinct from conventional Skills.
In Divine City, aside from first-generation citizens, even second and third generations sotis developed such traits, so Monkyspanner was fairly familiar with them.
Still… there was no getting around talent. The people of this world had a hard ceiling on their potential.
Take Monkyspanner himself: if his cap was 100, he'd filled every bit of that. But Climb?
Climb's cap was probably in the 20–30 range. And he'd barely reached 16 or 18.
Worse still, his basic potential was so low that even with soul-crushing, bone-grinding effort, he could only raise it by one point at a ti.
Monkyspanner, frustrated by how agonizingly slow his progress was, eventually gave up watching him altogether.
At so point, the boy got taken in by that pup Gazef, and Monkyspanner stopped paying attention.
"Well, I'll take that as the brat giving up first."
"Yes. Climb seems much happier this way too. Thank you for your effort."
"Damn woman... don't you think you've used enough already?"
"Of course. I'll keep that in mind."
Aside from training the kid, Monkyspanner had been used for quite a number of things.
While he rarely got involved personally, Renner had a gift for crafting excuses and reasons, subtly weaving requests into missions assigned to Dragon's Dream sub-parties. Her manipulation was almost artistic.
On top of that, she'd hint at her "personal connection" with Monkyspanner to negotiate down commission fees—or demand bonuses for extra results.
It wasn't that he hated cunning, but she wielded it without the slightest touch of humanity. It was irritating.
"Well, this last job will wrap it all up."
He'd left the remaining subordinates behind to handle the final organizational cleanup.
This particular mission, however, was not sothing that could be exposed to the public eye. It was better to take care of it quietly—himself.
Moreover, the job was a bit much for the underlings. So of the underground rulers in the capital, those whispered about as kings in the dark, had a reputation for being dangerous.
Even if he sent one of his adamantite-ranked subordinates, the backstreets were enemy territory. In that kind of terrain, underhanded tricks and ambushes could take down even the strong.
That's why he ca in person.
Step. Step.
He walked deeper into the shadow-draped streets until a dim alley erged—a street so shrouded in gloom it might as well have been underground.
Even without sunlight, the flickering magical lanterns and torches cast a pale light across this hidden world.
A few people loitered about, all heavily cloaked with hoods, their faces obscured.
They cast wary glances toward Monkyspanner, whose face was fully exposed, but not a single one dared speak.
The quiet pressure he radiated urged them to hasten away.
Ignoring them, Monkyspanner stomped up to the largest building and banged on the door.
Muffled shouting and curses ca from inside before the door was flung open.
"Who the hell are y—"
"A son of the gods, that's who."
CRACK!
The rough-faced man who appeared at the door was blasted backward before he could even react, his face crushed by a single flick of Monkyspanner's finger.
The man's large body crashed into furniture, creating a ruckus. Without pause, Monkyspanner stepped inside.
"Waaagh!"
"Wh-Who the hell is this?!"
"What the hell do you want?!"
n with alard expressions scrambled to respond, and among them, several naked won and girls lay slumped over tables or sprawled on the floor.
The stench in the room was overwhelming—rank with the reek of blood, booze, and rot.
The burnt scent of narcotics, mixed with bitter dicine and human waste, made Monkyspanner's nose wrinkle.
It was scenes like this that reminded him just how foul and barbaric the outer world was.
He found himself instinctively thinking, If this were Divine City… and then grimaced, silently apologizing to the gods for daring to compare it to the outside filth.
He wanted to burn the whole place down—gut everyone in sight. But for now… he held back. With a low, threatening voice, he issued a warning.
"My na is Monkyspanner. Monkyspanner El Dragondream. I'm the head of the great clan that rules you from above… so I've co in person, because I want a little chat with your Eight Fingers boss—or whatever you call your octopus."
"Bring to them. Now."
"Huh?"
The thugs paused for a mont, confused. Then their faces twisted into snarls as they drew daggers from their belts.
No trust, huh? Worse—they were thinking of killing him.
Monkyspanner was glad he'd equipped his gauntlets in advance.
There was no way he was going to let these worms sully his hands.
"Tch… If you don't believe , fine."
"I need to talk, so I'll spare your lives—but don't expect rcy."
He raised his clenched fist.
For a fleeting mont, his gaze landed on the unconscious girls on the floor. His knuckles tightened with fury.
Then—
From within the building, the screams of n tore through the night, echoing across the alleyway outside.
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