Chapter 38

Waverider and Mimic. Turan tilted his head at the two unfamiliar names. Could those be the names of bloodlines that had yet to manifest in him? But if two bloodlines had combined, that would mean he had the blood of a great house...

["Will you enter?"]

The question came again. It was then that Turan realized the eye was looking at his chest. He took out the Holy Relic and waved it from side to side. As expected, the eye in the gate followed its movements.

When he set it down, the voice spoke tonelessly.

["Error. Waverider, Mimic, lost."]

Apparently, Waverider and Mimic were not powers Turan had been born with, but those originally possessed by the Holy Relic's owner. For some reason, the door had counted them together with his own bloodlines...

"What are Waverider and Mimic? And what is this door?"

Rather than answer, the large, bulging eye merely looked down at him arrogantly. Despite having no eyelid, it conveyed unmistakable disdain. Turan picked the Holy Relic back up and asked again.

"Tell me about Waverider and Mimic."

["Waverider, first-order type: underwater breathing, underwater physical enhancement, fluid manipulation. Mimic, first-order type: flow detection, absorption, and mimesis."]

As he had thought, it apparently refused to deal with anyone who did not possess four bloodlines. More importantly, he had never felt that carrying the Holy Relic gave him powers such as underwater breathing or fluid manipulation. Did it merely serve as proof of identity, without reproducing the abilities themselves? Yet flow detection seemed to work, so perhaps there was some way to use it...

"What are you?"

["Spirit of the Door."]

As expected, the eye was the same sort of being as the library's librarian, though it was far less human in every respect, from appearance to personality. The librarian was essentially human apart from a slightly different sensibility, whereas the Spirit of the Door felt much more rigid. It seemed merely to recite predetermined responses to his questions.

"What is this labyrinth? Why was it made, and how do I escape?"

["The Labyrinth of the Night Hunter. One who possesses the correct four types becomes the Night Hunter by defeating the chief. Defeating the chief opens the escape route."]

Become the Night Hunter? Did that mean he could become a god? As Turan's eyes widened at something he had never even imagined, the eye embedded in the door suddenly began spinning in place. Its deep, low voice grew increasingly distorted.

["Error."]

["Hunter, Pursuer, Waverider, Mimic."]

["Two types incorrect. Shadow, Alchemist, absent."]

["Four-type requirement satisfied."]

["Error. Does not match the Night Hunter's types."]

["Labyrinth opening error?"]

["Error. Closure impossible. Occupants remain within."]

["Unauthorized personnel entry."]

["Consulting creator."]

["Error. Creator unavailable."]

The eye in the gate began babbling incomprehensibly on its own. Sensing danger, Turan took a step back. At that moment, the iris split vertically and glared sharply at him.

["Independent judgment. Deploy labyrinth chief. Directive: eliminate remaining occupants."]

With those final words, the door opened of its own accord, and the Holy Relic's senses caught a monster inside. It felt as though a barrier that had been blocking something had vanished.

'That is...'

Judging by its silhouette in the darkness, it looked much like the other monsters, except that it was roughly twice as tall. The difference lay in the amount of mana flowing within it. Even at a glance, he could sense a powerful current that seemed more than ten times greater than its fellows'. The enormous monster—the labyrinth's chief—staggered to its feet and spoke to Turan.

["You"]

["Are not"]

["The Night Hunter"]

["Fakes"]

["Must die"]

A woman's voice reverberated like an echo. It was identical to the phantom voice he had heard when he first entered this place.

The instant he was certain it was an enemy, Turan launched the stone already loaded in his sling. He had swung it several times, packing a generous amount of mana into the blow. An attack powerful enough to pierce an ordinary monster's forehead and kill it instantly bounced off to no avail.

THUNK!

'It's that tough?'

He immediately followed with a fireball and a bolt of electricity, but neither was enough to inflict meaningful damage. Its mana diminished a little, so they had hurt it, but they were nowhere near enough to kill it.

The monster snickered as it strode toward him.

["That tickles."]

Like its smaller fellows, it apparently possessed physical abilities overwhelmingly greater than its mana would suggest. Realizing he stood no chance alone, Turan immediately turned and fled.

["Stop riiight there!"]

THUD! THUD!

Heavy footfalls accompanied its roar. Though he was concealed and had put considerable distance between them, the huge monster continued running toward him with enormous strides. It knew exactly where he was. And that was not all—

["□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■—!"]

The monsters, which until now had wandered the labyrinth at leisure except when encountering humans, were all screaming and running in every direction. While fleeing the great monster called the labyrinth's chief, he could not possibly avoid every one of them.

"Ugh!"

A monster sprang out ahead of Turan, swinging five hooked claws. He raised one arm to block, drawing on the guardian magic tool's full power. The claws sank into his forearm, but barely pierced the skin rather than dealing serious damage. Even as he blocked the attack with one hand, he drew his dagger with the other and slashed its throat.

["□□□!"]

An ordinary dagger could not have cut through its tough body even imbued with mana, but Haram's dagger, though not particularly powerful, was a magic tool nonetheless. As the monster reeled back, twitching with its throat half severed, Turan resumed running through the pitch-black labyrinth and sank into thought.

'The Labyrinth of the Night Hunter...'

A place where one could become a god. Who could have made such a blasphemous, bizarre place? The limping goddess, one of the Freyans, immediately came to mind. But why would anyone need a building for making gods?

"Whoa."

Before he could dwell on it, another monster lunged at him. Turan swiftly slid between its legs, sprang upright with mana, and ran on. The circumstances were hardly suited to deep reflection. Yet he could not keep running for the rest of his life, either...

'One thing is certain. I have to hunt that thing down.'

If the eye in the door was to be believed, that was essential. Even if it was not, he still needed to kill the enemy pursuing him relentlessly. The enormous monster was not especially fast, but as long as it followed him, he could neither sleep nor rest. Yet their brief clash had made it clear he could not win alone. The solution that came to mind was Perga's party, whose help he had made use of over the past several days.

Of course, setting that monster against them would cause heavy casualties... But weren't they already past the point of reconciliation? Now that they had mistaken him for an assassin, Turan could not reveal himself, become their companion, and escape alongside them. From what he had secretly observed of Perga's character, even temporary cooperation could end in betrayal at any moment. In that case, he might as well make proper use of them.

'Let's fight together for once, dear older cousin.'

* * *

"Aaagh!"

"Yoznil!"

Perga hurled his chakram, shouting the name of the young man who fell screaming. It sheared through the upper body of the monster attacking him.

"How is he?"

"Wounded! He can't fight!"

"Have Ubo heal him!"

Ubo, a noble of the Healer Bloodline, approached the injured man with a weary expression and extended a hand. As mana seeped into him, the wound gaping from shoulder to chest began to close.

"Is he healed?"

"For now."

Spinning the chakram on his finger in preparation for attacking the next enemy, Perga realized there were no more in sight. A noble of the Berserker bloodline holding a massive axe murmured under his breath.

"Is it over...?"

"Everyone, stay alert. More could come."

Dozens of monsters had suddenly descended on Perga's party while they were resting as usual. They were growing accustomed to fighting in here, but even nobles could not cope with well over a hundred attacking simultaneously from all directions. Thanks to the furious efforts of Perga, the strongest among them, no one had died, but exhaustion was plain on every face.

"Wait. I hear something strange."

"What sort of sound?"

"A thudding sound..."

Before long, they could all hear it. Something absurdly enormous was approaching...

"Sh-should we run?"

"Don't be stupid. Where would we go? Get ready to fight!"

He was right. When they could not even tell whether a wall stood ahead, their chances of escaping were vanishingly small. If they had to face an enemy, wouldn't it be better to do so without a wall at their backs? At least they would not be crushed to death beneath its enormous mass.

As the seven nobles who were neither injured nor too depleted of mana prepared for battle, an enormous being suddenly emerged from the darkness before them. One noble blurted out at the sight.

"What the..."

The enormous monster resembled its fellows, but stood four to five meters tall, its head nearly touching the ceiling. Several times as much slime streamed from its body, leaving a sticky trail behind it.

["□■, □■, □■—"]

Its strange cry resembled those of the smaller monsters, yet it sounded less like a simple scream than speech in an incomprehensible language. For some reason, Perga's party intuitively understood its meaning.

"Night Hunter, Silver Sun, Frigid Wrath, half-beings, the children's enemies... kill them all...?"

"What in the world is it saying?"

What was this being, to speak the names of the Freyan gods with such hatred? Before they could voice their questions, the monster thrust out its right arm. What they had failed to anticipate was that, being twice as tall, its arms and claws were also twice as long. Its reach exceeded everyone's expectations.

"Gah—"

"Ubo!"

"My lord!"

Ubo, the noble of the Healer Bloodline, was pierced through the chest, and Galthen Rosmun, ruler of Banipel, through the abdomen. Seeing this, Perga and the others hurriedly retaliated.

The chakram, packed with tremendous mana, sliced into the right forearm from which the two men dangled, while a long arrow buried itself between the monster's eyes. Fire struck its chest, and a massive arrow of light lodged in its neck.

Ignoring the barrage tearing at its body, however, the monster brought the two men impaled on its hooked claws to its sawlike teeth and crunched them down.

["■■!"]

Delicious! As its meaning reached them, Perga's party trembled with fear. The enemy before them was surely a match for the mythical-class monsters they had only heard of—beings that might appear once in several decades, which only House Heads or those just below their level could face...

"Wh-what do we do, Perga?"

"I told you, we can't run! Attack!"

He hurled his chakram with the shout. The metal disc curved through the air and bit into the cut it had previously opened in the giant monster's arm. Driven by the mana within it, the chakram kept spinning after sinking into the flesh, grinding through bone. A deafening grinding noise rang out, followed by a crack as a great chunk of flesh fell away.

GRRRK! CRACK!

"It worked!"

"Just what we'd expect of Lord Perga!"

Delighted to have landed their first effective blow, the nobles attacked in succession. Their attacks were not as effective as Perga's, but they steadily whittled away the mana moving the creature's body.

["□■□!"]

That hurts!

With a piercing cry, its left arm came flying at them. Realizing it was targeting him, Perga swiftly leaped diagonally aside. His younger cousin stood in its path.

"C-cousin—"

"Sorry!"

Not a trace of guilt showed on Perga's face as he used his cousin as a shield. He hurled his chakram again, but the monster raised its left hooked claws to block, as though determined not to fall for the same attack twice. The chakram struck his cousin, whose torso was impaled on the claws, and cut him in two.

"Raaaagh!"

Then the noble of the Berserker bloodline roared and slammed his great axe into the monster's shin. His bloodline ability granted immense physical power at the cost of reason. Combined with the heavy magic tool's strength, the blow gouged deep into the shin and buckled one of the monster's knees.

"I did it!"

"I broke its knee—"

His joy lasted only a moment. With a crash, the Berserker noble flew dozens of meters and vanished into the darkness. The enraged monster had raised its other foot and kicked him. Only his masterless axe remained, tumbling forlornly across the floor.

BANG!

["□■■□■!"]

The battle that followed was something of a tug-of-war. With its mobility impaired by its injured leg, the enormous monster staggered about swinging its hooked claws, while Perga's party leaped this way and that, evading and counterattacking to wear it down.

The problem was that smaller monsters still attacked intermittently, preventing them from devoting their full strength to hunting the larger one. Fortunately, some of those smaller attackers would suddenly turn to stare at empty air or collapse limply. Someone unseen was helping them, but the battle was too fierce for anyone to notice.

"Hah, haah..."

Ten-odd minutes later, Perga looked around, conscious that little remained of either his stamina or his mana. He was the sole survivor. All the others had died, impaled on the giant monster's hooks or ambushed by the smaller creatures. Accomplished nobles who could have held their own anywhere had died like dogs in this unknown place.

'What the hell are you? And what do you have to do with becoming House Head?'

Perga thought of his grandfather, the lofty, unapproachable Head of House Zahar. Had he not listened to him, he would never have fallen into this hell or lost his friends and vassals...

Even if he escaped alive, he was as good as eliminated from the succession race. The relatives of those who had died here would not look kindly on him. No matter how much he improved his own abilities, how could he compete politically after losing all his supporters?

No, none of that mattered. First, he had to survive this place...

"Ah..."

Perhaps he had lost too much blood. The instant he staggered with dizziness, a hooked claw pierced his body. Blood rose from deep in his throat and trickled over his lips; his organs must have been injured.

Just as he sensed his death approaching, the monster that had impaled him swiveled its eyes as though it had seen something else.

["□□□!"]

'Fake Night Hunter?'

Why was it looking at empty air—no, whom was it talking to? Even as he wondered, a human figure appeared where there had been nothing. A young man in somewhat foreign-looking travel clothes.

The weapon held in his two hands was very familiar. Wasn't that the enormous, heavy axe used by Perga's Berserker-bloodline vassal, a weapon too cumbersome for anyone without a bloodline specializing in close combat?

The gray-haired young man swung the heavy weapon effortlessly and buried it in the battered giant monster's neck.