Chapter 183

01 When Malraux and the scout unit descended to the fifty-seventh stratum and saw it for the first time, they believed they’d found some set of huge metal posts. Looking toward the sky to see how far it stretched, some commented, “It’s like a horse without a neck or tail,” while others said, “It’s like a crab walking forward,” or “Looks like a spider with its legs stretched downward.” In the end, they settled on referring to the monster as a “beast.” Probably because crab and spider legs remained bent, whereas this monster’s legs stretched straight down from its torso. The creature’s legs had black steel hair that grew like tangled wires, and the skin that peeked out here and there was dark green or purple, with a luster that made it seem like metal that had been burned or discolored—though it had just as likely been that color from the start. None of the members of the unit were brave enough to wrap their arms around one of the creature’s many legs to measure its thickness. Each slightly curved leg came to a point resembling the sharpened blade of a giant sickle. The monster moved fast for its enormous size and was probably capable of immediately slicing a human clean in half. The body of this monster, which quickly came to be known as the blade-legged beast, had four of these deadly legs on either side. However, there was no clearly visible head or tail. Stormy gray clouds hung low over the fifty-seventh stratum of the Labyrinth. In this atmosphere, shrouded in a thin mist, the boundary between air and cloud was difficult to determine. Distant landmarks seemed dim and at times vanished completely. Just the legs of the blade-legged beast put it well over ten meters tall. If one retreated to a distance that would allow them to see the creature’s entire profile at once, the mists obscured too much for such a sight to be of any use. When the more adventurous drew closer and looked up at it, they discovered that the only appendages attached to the oblong, horselike torso were the bladed legs. No one had ever seen nor heard of a monster like this. Thus, the need for a convenient name like “blade-legged beast.” To make matters worse, this stratum was swarming with the bizarre monsters. Stab, whoosh, stab, whoosh. The bladed legs of the beast moved with the deftness of a proper horse. As it walked, the creature tore through the mix of sand and pebbles that formed the ground of the stratum. It might have been a rocky area originally, but the ground had been pounded into sand and pebbles from all the crushing and slashing of the knifelike legs. The loose sediment made it easy to trip, and walking was exhausting. “The previous stratum had a walking volcano, but to think there would be a monster with strange legs in this stratum, too… Could the boss of the Labyrinth have some sort of fascination with legs?” Leonhardt, who had led the Labyrinth Suppression Forces down to the fifty-seventh stratum, was likely just talking to himself. Even so, the sage accompanying him was eager to reply. “I suspect because it has two legs,” she said. “Just like humans. No idea if it’s the right or the left, but the boss most likely used each leg.” “That’s rather disgusting. Well, maybe I should just be happy we’re getting close.” Guessing at the meaning of Freyja’s strange statement, Leonhardt shrugged lightly. He’d certainly experienced a considerable feeling of discomfort with the Walking Mountain of Fire. Until that point, the forms of all the stratum bosses had been within the realm of comprehension, if a bit abnormal. However, although the Walking Mountain of Fire was the spitting image of a volcano, the legs awkwardly attached to it made the picture grotesque. The alien creature also bore no visible mouth or eyes. If the legs of the Labyrinth’s boss had created the Walking Mountain of Fire and the boss of this stratum, which had in turn created the blade-legged beasts, what on earth awaited Leonhardt’s group once they’d passed both? The group had neither the time to shudder at this repulsive thought nor the choice not to fight these monsters. Rather, if these were both “legs,” the thought that they’d be able to confront the “body” in a stratum not far from this one should have encouraged the soldiers. That aside, where in the world were the eyes and mouths of these blade-legged creatures? Leonhardt couldn’t understand how a beast constructed simply of sharpened appendages attached to a torso like an oblong mass of rock could perceive anything around it. Yet more than a few of the monsters had noticed the Labyrinth Suppression Forces and were scurrying toward them. “Second and third units, forward!” The two units comprised of soldiers who specialized in long-handled weapons headed for the blade-legged beasts, with the captain of the second unit, wielding his halberd equipped with an enormous ax, and the captain of the third unit, Dick, at the head of the formation. Unsurprisingly, long-handled weapons had great utility when facing giant monsters like these. “Take this!” With the captain’s speed and skill, the tip of the halberd could slice through a common sword, and this weapon was made of adamantite, forged by the Rock Wheel dwarves. No matter how big a lump of metal might be, this weapon would cut through it. With a resounding shing that vibrated all the way into his skull, the strike from the captain of the second unit sliced beautifully through the leg of one of the creatures. It was the same for Dick. His black spear had also been remade with adamantite, and his thrusting blow became a destructive focal point that broke the beast’s leg. However, that was all it did. The ten-meter leg had simply been shortened by about a meter. And that was only one leg out of eight. The blade-legged beast didn’t seem to feel pain. It bent its multiple joints just a little to adjust the length of its legs and swung one downward to stab at the units of soldiers of who’d swarmed around it to attack. “Watch out!” The soldiers slashed at the beast’s legs sticking in the sand as they dodged the sharp points coming at them from above. Those who could lop off the lumplike steel appendages in one hit boasted A-Rank strength, like the two captains. The metallic hair on the bladed legs absorbed the hits from the rest of the soldiers’ halberds without issue. It took at least several hits to cut through the legs. “Are we shortening the legs bit by bit like this?!” Dick asked. The captain of the second unit replied. “Dick, did you forget the plan? Focus!” The ground, which consisted of pebbles and sand, was all give, making it easy for the strange monsters to maneuver. Comparatively, it was awful for the soldiers, as they had no proper footholds to push off of. Since the battle had just begun, they had plenty of stamina to spare, but clearly, the longer it went on, the more unfavorable the situation would become for the humans. More than anything, there were just too many of the monsters for the incursion to focus their efforts. Although the Labyrinth Suppression Forces had only just arrived at this stratum, the silhouettes of ten or more blade-legged beasts, in addition to the one they were already fighting, could be seen heading their way, and that was just what they saw through the haze. “The legs are exactly like the report said. What about the body?” the second unit’s captain muttered. “Body? There’s no time to think about attractive women!” Dick joked back this time. He was the one who seemed to have a lot of time to spare. “There’s always time for that, but I meant it! Battle-ax Annihilation!” “Heh, right. Rising Spear Annihilation!” Each of them launched ranged attacks toward the torso of the blade-legged beast they were fighting. Both attacks were techniques that fired magical power from their weapons. Since they weren’t hurling their actual armaments, the strength of their attacks was lowered slightly and required no small amount of magic from either. For this pair, who specialized in hand-to-hand combat, these were usually the kind of techniques they wanted to avoid. Ker-thud. The combined attacks of Dick and the others sounded like blunt weapons crashing against a rock when they made impact. The strikes succeeded in gouging out about a third of the blade-legged beast’s torso, seemingly choking the life out of it. Although, that might not have been entirely accurate. The blade-legged beast stopped moving because it fell to pieces, as if its joints had come loose. It didn’t look like the final moments of something that had once been alive. Both the fallen torso and the legs that had resembled giant metal blades changed to a rocky color and shattered into several pieces from the impact of their collapse. “The weak point is the torso. Long-range attacks are effective. Two or three people need to hit it at once. Watch out for attacks from above and for falling objects after defeating them.” “What he said. Engage!” The captain of the second unit barked precise instructions, and Dick, the captain of the third, gave only a vague affirmation. The members of the respective units were accustomed to this, and they efficiently divided into groups to fell the monsters and began their attacks. “Have you learned the location of the stratum boss?” Amid the main force behind the advance troops, Weishardt awaited the intelligence unit’s report. Perhaps the haze covering this stratum concealed the boss’s magical power. It certainly bewildered the insect summoner and obstructed the sound the sonar user needed, rendering it impossible to probe distant areas. Thus, someone agile and possessing outstanding evasion abilities had to find the stratum boss with their own eyes, running around the stratum while avoiding the blade-legged beasts’ attacks. Complicating matters was the apparent fact that the boss seemed content to stay hidden, opting not to attack like the blade-legged beasts did. Instead, it continued to move slowly and randomly. If the intelligence unit didn’t stay near it and continue to inform the main force of its changing location, it would soon disappear into the haze, and the unit would lose sight of it. “Identified. Ahead at two o’clock. The Telepathy was from far away, maybe two or three kilometers.” “We have to maintain pursuit. All troops, move out!” After hearing Malraux’s report, Leonhardt signaled the army to advance. The group consisted of the main force and the backup mage unit, adding up to two hundred people in all. Within the main force, comprised of eight units, two units clashed with the blade-legged beasts to open a path, then advanced in a battle formation that protected the center bulk of the army. If the elite captains charged ahead, they could cover a distance of two or three kilometers in less than ten minutes, but they alone wouldn’t be enough against the boss of the stratum. They would run dry of magical power, simply taking out the lesser monsters that blocked the path. There was such a great number of the abnormal creatures in this stratum that no matter how many were defeated, they seemed to issue forth from the ashen mists without end. They appeared from within the haze on both sides, flanking the main bulk of the army. The Labyrinth Suppression Forces group of two hundred was a large-scale force compared to the numbers needed to subjugate the King of Cursed Serpents, but since these beasts had ten-meter-long legs, the soldiers could easily focus on the midsections of the monsters. Shield knights in the main force protected the concentrated group from the giant blade tips, and mages pierced the beasts’ weak torsos with magic. “Those who are injured or out of magical power, head to the medical team in the center! The second and third units’ magic will run out very soon. Units four and five, prepare to sortie! You’ll be relieving them!” Under Weishardt’s command, the force advanced toward its destination undeterred. The second and third units, replaced by the relief group before they ran out of magical power and became a liability, returned to the center as if they’d been sucked in. “Gaaah, I’m dizzy…” Running out of magic was probably painful for the soldiers of the advance guard, who normally only fought hand to hand. In a contest of magical power and long-range offensive ability, the mage unit would clearly have come out on top. However, the unit was more suited for assisting with offense and defense rather than opening the way forward on the front lines. That said, this was a battlefield, and this incursive force was made from the best of the best. Fortunately, there had been no serious injuries since the fighting started, so the exhausted soldiers’ complaints seemed a bit dramatic. A girl offered potions to those soldiers. “Good work. Here, have a mana potion.” “Thanks, Mariela.” “I need one, too; I need one, too. Hey, Sieg, go back to your escort duties. I wanted to get a potion from heeer.” “Mariela is busy making potions. Don’t approach her, don’t touch her, and if you look at the potions, they’ll disappear!” “They will not!” Mariela puffed up her cheeks in protest, but she continued her work on the mana potions with both hands, dissolving ley-line shards and the magical power of the moon into Drops of Life. She was doing both simultaneously, a rather impressive accomplishment. It wasn’t like Mariela to do such clever work. If she pushed herself too hard at it, she might soon fall flat on her face. Regardless of such limitations, Mariela completed mana potions one after another, and Sieg warded off the hands reaching for her as he distributed the concoctions. The process of making a mana potion was simple. All one had to do was mix magical power from the moon with a ley-line shard dissolved in Drops of Life. When done, the moon’s magical power and the power of the ley-line shard became intertwined, creating a mana potion that adapted to and healed the body of the person who imbibed of the moon’s magical power. It was a truly rare specimen of potions that restored magical power just by drinking it. As long as the soldiers had them, they’d be able to fight at their utmost ability. Whether with magic or skills, they could strike as many times as you wanted at maximum power. As one might have suspected, however, such a miraculous item was not without its drawbacks. First, the materials were rare. It required magical power from the moon. Power that didn’t belong to anyone. If magical power belonging to a monster or a person was used, the potion wouldn’t bring any energy to the drinker. Even in the case of the moon’s power, which was the easiest to get to adapt to someone’s body, only by using the highly concentrated energy of ley-line shards and Drops of Life as an intermediary would it finally turn into a form the human body could absorb. Any extra ingredients or steps to the process caused the moon’s magical power to deteriorate, making it worthless. In short, even Anchor Essence was out of the question for a mana potion. The magical power of the moon started to fade the instant it was taken from the special crystals it accumulated in. That was also the case even after it was made into a potion. Mana potions were powerful, but they were worthless if they hadn’t just been made. A battlefield requiring mana potions was said to be the fiercest place in the world, and a young alchemist who couldn’t fight had come to such a place. What was more, crafting these wondrous concoctions required one of the few high-ranking alchemists who could make special-grade potions. Most alchemists couldn’t process ley-line shards with skills alone, like Mariela could. In their case, a carriage or the like containing a simple atelier would’ve been necessary for them to be on the front lines. Naturally, such a person would have been a prime target for the enemy. Even knowing they would be exposed to danger, alchemists chose to venture onto the battlefield to supply mana potions. They had to. Even they had things so important to them that they’d put their lives on the line to protect them. Since time immemorial, battles involving mana potions had always determined the fate of a city or country, and the life or death of the people living there. Such struggles would leave their mark on history. 02 Have you ever stabbed an insect crawling on the ground with a tree branch? It’s easy to do if the insect is simple-minded and large, like a caterpillar, but what if it’s an ant? It’s easy to throw a marching line of ants into disarray, but it’s surprisingly difficult to kill them one by one with a pointed tree branch. Contrary to expectations, ants move rather skillfully, so even when you intend to aim for the center of their bodies, you might only pluck off a leg. The march of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces might’ve looked exactly like ants to the blade-legged beasts who were gathering to crush them. Despite the immense difference in size between the opposed troops, it was similar to crushing large ants with a sharp point. Did these sharp-tipped spears crushing the ants experience the joy of exerting power over a smaller creature? The beasts sprang forth one after another beyond the hazy veil to swarm the ever-advancing Labyrinth Suppression Forces. The claws of the monsters plunged deep into the damp and softened earth with a crunch, plowing, tilling, and loosening it to hinder the Forces. Even if those under attack were just ants, it did not mean they were unable or unwilling to fight back. Not to mention this group consisted not of ants, but of elite units of people. Sometimes the blade-legged beasts’ claws, which seemed to descend from heaven itself, pierced the soldiers of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces and tore off their limbs. Still, the warriors continued to launch long-range attacks—whether by magic or weapon—at the comparatively softer torsos of the beasts. Some among the army felt that if the positions were reversed, being overpowered by the attacks of what must have seemed like insects as small as the tips of one’s fingernails would’ve been a painful humiliation. No one knew whether the beasts, with their oblong, eight-legged bodies and their vague appearance of life, were even capable of such thoughts. However, they certainly proved relentless, rushing at the marching Labyrinth Suppression Forces to try to crush every last one of them, no matter how many of their kin were slain. Countless swarming beasts were left crumbling and crushed in the wake of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces’ ranged attacks. At the same time, the Forces, too, suffered injuries. Neither side’s strength seemed to diminish, though. The injured Labyrinth Suppression Forces were immediately healed and returned to the front lines. Meanwhile, new blade-legged beasts appeared as soon as the previous ones were defeated. The Forces cleared the way while advancing at a surprisingly quick pace considering they were on human legs. However, when seen from above as a line of ants, their march to close the distance between themselves and the boss of this stratum was a slow one. If one was aiming from above at a group of creatures continually moving around, where would the easiest target be? Doubtless, a blade-legged beast able to get close to the Labyrinth Suppression Forces would aim for the army’s center. “Shield Bash!” There were few in the Labyrinth City powerful enough to entirely repel a crushing blow speeding downward from above. An A-Rank shield knight named Wolfgang, who was often hired to protect Weishardt, had been appointed as Mariela’s guardian for the attack. “Th… thank you very much…” Mariela expressed her gratitude while looking like she was about to collapse from the shock of the battle. The young alchemist lacked leg strength and all-around muscle. She didn’t have the speed or stamina to keep up with the Labyrinth Suppression Forces. As such, she was the only one atop a raptor, swaying this way and that as the group marched ever forward. The raptor Mariela sat upon was the one that had once protected her from a death lizard’s attacks and lost its tail for its efforts. This raptor, which had protected Mariela of its own free will, was selected as the optimal creature for her to ride, since Mariela lacked riding skills. Sieg had wisely chosen to hide the fact the raptor’s suitability had been evaluated based on Mariela’s limited ability. She would likely sulk if she knew the truth. The raptor’s tail had been regrown via a special-grade potion while the creature was being ridden, so as to demonstrate the potion’s performance. This raptor, named Koo, didn’t seem to be rattled at all by the blade-legged beasts’ attacks. Deftly, it avoided the strikes of the razor-sharp legs and advanced at a constant pace. The only frightened one was Mariela. “Oh, it’s no problem. I bet you were quite frightened, young lady. I’ll protect you so you can relax and make your potions,” Wolfgang said amiably after she thanked him for protecting her. It was quite the manly speech. He wasn’t all talk, either; this shield knight had successfully repelled a bladed leg that came hurtling down from the heavens right before Mariela’s eyes. Between that and his gallant promise to protect her, Mariela might have grown a bit bashful had he been a bachelor around her age. In actuality, Mariela’s cheeks reddened a little, and she nodded with the kind of starry-eyed fascination usually reserved for meeting a legendary hero. Grandel—the stylish shield knight of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces—was also a “legendary hero,” but Wolfgang better lived up to that title. He was one of the strongest warriors there was. It was inevitable for Mariela to want to talk to such a man. “Even so, weren’t you surprised to know someone like me was an alchemist?” “Everyone had an idea that might’ve been the case back when Dr. Nierenberg established a clinic at a mere apothecary.” “Right, usually a doctor calls for an apothecary, not the other way around.” “Aw, man, I thought we were protecting her from the Aguinas family.” “Who cares? I prefer an innocent sweetheart like Mariela.” “She didn’t ask you about your tastes.” Other members of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces keeping the area around Mariela secure offered their own opinions and helped to relax the atmosphere. Whether intentional or not, it did ease some of her tension. Injured soldiers were treated where Mariela would not see, out of consideration for her. She was unused to battle, and the gruesome sights would have disturbed her. Even so, Mariela still caught sight of both the blade-legged monsters coming to attack and the long-distance attacks used against the monsters. One of the horrid legs had just come rather close to her, after all. Mariela, no different from any city girl apart from her alchemical abilities, seemed ill at ease on the unfamiliar battlefield. Apparently, Mariela’s escorts had been chosen from among acquaintances who had received medical treatment at Sunlight’s Canopy, particularly those well suited to defense. They all also seemed to have accepted relatively easily that Mariela was an alchemist. These soldiers, who fought with the main thrust of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces, understood full well both the scarcity of potions and the importance of the one who made them. They had been chosen to protect Mariela even at the risk of their own lives. All were blessed with fighting skills, and they had all spent much of their lives in battle. They had never experienced this “alchemy” before and had almost no knowledge of it. That was why, although they saw Mariela make mana potions one after another with no tools whatsoever, they weren’t particularly startled by the advanced techniques that were even beyond alchemists of the imperial capital. People tended to judge another’s character by their appearance, including their behavior and speech. In many cases, especially in short-term relationships, those who appear important through their speech and conduct are judged to be admirable people rather than those with true bravery and skill. Mariela was a prime example. The potions she made and the techniques she had more or less mastered were rare, but as far as difficulty levels went, she was perceived as an average, ordinary girl and treated as a young lady who had simply been dragged into this because of those rare abilities. In short, the collective feeling of those guarding Mariela was that they were protecting their friendly young female neighbor. As for the alchemist herself, she was grateful for that kind of treatment. She gave her best effort, industriously crafting potions. The conversation with the strong, kind soldiers helped to greatly loosen her tension. However, there was one man who didn’t find the situation relaxing at all. Grind-grind-grind. He wasn’t grinding his teeth. Though he was overflowing with jealousy, it was Sieg’s taut bow, not his teeth, that made the grinding sound. With a trembling vibration, Sieg’s arrow flew through the haze and pierced the torso of a blade-legged beast. The precision and distance were exactly as one would’ve expected from the hunter with the Spirit Eye. Unfortunately, the torso he targeted was like a mass of rock; there were no vital organs or other such weak points to be found. Since the only way to defeat such creatures was to whittle away at them, creating a few holes wasn’t going to be enough, and although Sieg had put magical power into the slender arrows, he knew how little damage they could do to the abominations. Sieg used a sword for melee attacks and a bow for long-range attacks, but he had no shield skills. Even his deadly bow quickly proved inadequate against this new enemy, failing to demonstrate the power it’d held during the battle against the red dragon. Sieg looked disquieted as he glanced at Mariela while relentlessly firing his bow, and Freyja called out to him. “Siiieg, don’t be so jealous. I bet you’re thinking, ‘I can’t believe those other men were chosen to protect Mariela!’ But then the Spirit Eye couldn’t demonstrate its true value.” “Lady Frey, I…” “This isn’t a fight for you alone, remember? You have your own role to play.” “I…understand.” Sieg had known that ever since he’d participated in the red dragon battle. No, perhaps he’d even felt it every time he operated with the Black Iron Freight Corps or the Labyrinth Suppression Forces, like when they’d hunted the wyverns and the earth dragons. There were many strong people in this Labyrinth City. Even A-Rankers like Sieg numbered more than ten these days. The city was threatened by a danger of the highest order, a labyrinth that had grown too great and too deep. Nearly half of the Empire’s high-ranking military forces had gathered to combat that danger. Although those people were also A-Rankers, it was difficult to simply ascribe quality to them since their abilities differed so much. Sieg was peerless when it came to the bow, but he was less accomplished with a sword than Leonhardt or Haage. No one could match Weishardt or Elmera in magic, or Dick with the spear, or even Wolfgang in defense. It was natural for people to differ in their strengths and weaknesses, and the Labyrinth Suppression Forces not only recognized each person’s special qualities but also formed strategies that would allow different ones to complement each other when challenging a stratum boss. However, for Sieg, who had only acted solo or in small groups since childhood, the reality that many people had abilities he would never achieve filled him with a frustrating sense of uselessness and weakness. Of course, he understood in his mind that he was doing the best he could and that his own abilities had plenty of merit. However, his heart refused to listen to reason. “You don’t understand. That worry of yours isn’t because someone is more able than you. Well, I suppose just saying that won’t really help you, though. It’s a bit premature, but this is perfect. C’mere, I’ll teach you how to use the Spirit Eye. It won’t take much time.” Saying this, Mariela’s master, Freyja, the Sage of Calamity grinned broadly and beckoned Siegmund to her. “So, you use the Spirit Eye like this.” Freyja grabbed the right side of Sieg’s face with her left hand. His Spirit Eye peeked through a gap between her fingers, so the field of view in both his right eye and his left was unobstructed. “I can be heavy-handed with my magical power, so this’ll hurt a bit.” No sooner had Freyja said this than… “Gaaahhh!” …a burning pain assaulted Sieg’s eye. He grabbed her arm to tear it off him, but it was like a steel beam, refusing to budge an inch. Sieg struggled harder and harder as the sensation of scorching heat crept all the way to the line connecting his eye and brain. Freyja continued to address him in a calm tone. “Calm down. I’m just connecting slightly to its original owner. You feel like you’re burning because my magical power has a different quality from yours. Your body isn’t actually on fire. Look, you should be able to see the world Mariela sensed a while back, right?” Sieg regained a bit of his composure when Freyja mentioned Mariela, and he focused his awareness on his Spirit Eye’s field of vision rather than on the pain attacking it. In his left eye, the surroundings seemed the same. The march continued; none of the soldiers clashing with the blade-legged beasts noticed that Sieg had stopped moving for a moment. However, the Spirit Eye showed the light of life and overlaid that image with the world his other eye saw. He could see a light of life dwelling in each person that seemed to be a reflection of each’s individual nature. Sieg realized that this glimmer dwelled not just in people, but in the strange attacking monsters as well. It even existed in the haze of this stratum and in a very thin layer on the ground beneath his feet. This light had flowed from the ley line and filled the world above. The Drops of Life Mariela had drawn up were emitting a particularly strong amount of the light. The luminous drops emitted pure energy that neither favored nor belonged to anyone. Potions containing this power healed whoever drank them, regardless of whether they were people or monsters. “You get it, right, Sieg? The spirits pour out of the ley line and exist using the power filling the world as nourishment. In ley lines ruled by someone who loves people, the spirits speak the people’s language. Conversely, they speak the language of monsters in monsters’ territories because the power of the ley line’s warden extends to the energy spilling across the land. Alchemists who’ve made a Pact with the ley line can circumvent the warden and draw Drops of Life from their Nexus. Drops of Life are a pure power that none can rival.” When Mariela dismissed a Transmutation Vessel, the excess Drops of Life became a light invisible to the normal human eye that sank back down toward the ley line. Weak spirits gathered in droves at the source of that glow. “Spirits with no physical body are unreliable, and they can’t draw power directly from the ley line. They subsist on the power that overflows and spreads throughout the world. In that sense, the Labyrinth is similar. It consumes the power of the ley line and makes monsters. There are hardly any spirits in the Labyrinth City, right? Even the spirit Illuminaria of the sacred tree by Sunlight’s Canopy was barely able to take shape, even after accumulating the Drops of Life and magical power the two of you gave her. There’s little power the spirits can eat because the Labyrinth is consuming it all. It’s especially bad in the Labyrinth itself. It’s under the control of the boss monster, so all the power obtainable from the ley line is used for the monsters. It’s difficult for the spirits to even exist here.” What Sieg was seeing served as proof enough to verify Freyja’s words, but there was something else as well. “My eye’s Spirit Sight ability isn’t just the power to see spirits…” “Right you are. That’s the eye of Endalsia, who even now is just barely keeping control of the ley line. Hers is an eye of compassion that provides the power of the ley line to the spirits. It’s not that you’ve become able to see weak spirits. The spirits her eye shows you have received energy from Endalsia that gave them the strength to manifest,” Freyja explained with a smile. Her golden eyes glittered like bursting sparks. Sieg could see a great number of fire spirits floating around Freyja. Concepts like life and death were likely alien to spirits. If they had the power of life from the ley line, they would appear from seemingly nowhere. Likewise, if they lost that power, they’d simply disappear. After seeing the salamander Mariela had summoned, Sieg wondered if perhaps spirits dwelled in a world that was both here and not here. “Now, Sieg. Give more power to my kin. Bestow blessings upon the brethren who help you.” There was a stabbing pain in Sieg’s Spirit Eye. What Freyja was doing was like teaching him how to swing a sword by using her hand to guide his arm. However, the eye of the forest spirit Endalsia was very likely incompatible to some extent with Freyja’s fiery magical power. This kind of pain was wholly new to Sieg. It felt like a dagger slowly working its way behind his eye. The sensation was so intense he wanted to clutch his head and writhe in pain, but Freyja’s hand refused to budge from his face. Sieg found he was unable to even close his eye. Fire spirits too small and weak to be visible to other humans gathered in such large numbers that there was hardly an empty space near Freyja. To Sieg they looked like a sea of fire. Perhaps because they were all the same type of spirit, they all acted very much like physical flames. They converged, split apart, and generally moved as if there was no notion of individuals among them. Sieg wondered if that was what it was like not to have a physical body. What free beings they must be! Human bodies seemed so cumbersome in comparison. Paying no mind to Sieg, whose consciousness was growing dim from the pain, Freja began a songlike chant. “O flames, my kin, let us sing and dance together. Summon Fire Dance.” It was fortunate that the torsos of the blade-legged beasts were ten meters above the ground. If they hadn’t been, even the Labyrinth Suppression Forces might’ve been reduced to ash. The blaze Freyja summoned ran wild and swallowed the blade-legged beasts surrounding the Labyrinth Suppression Forces like a tornado, and in only a few moments, the beasts collapsed. The firepower was so great that members of the Forces simply stopped their attacks. Every eye fell on the red-haired woman. “Lady Sage! What on earth was that?!” Mitchell, the man charged with looking after Freyja, came running up in a great hurry. The woman’s cheeks were flushed, despite her being sober, and her eyes gleamed as she laughed. Her hand remained tight around Sieg’s face. “Aha… Such terrific firepower.” Freyja’s expression was frightful. She looked to be in a trance from the immense power that exceeded even the Summon Fire Dance she’d used back in the Fell Forest against the earth dragons. The sage turned in the direction the Labyrinth Suppression Forces were moving, and she smiled happily as she spoke. “Heh-heh-heh, found you, stratum boss. I bet it’ll take one more shot, don’t you? Sieg?” The corners of her mouth curled in a smile. The golden-eyed woman truly seemed to be enjoying herself. The many fire spirits assembled had probably received strength from the power forcibly drawn out of Sieg’s Spirit Eye, enabling Freyja to unleash a tremendous show of spirit magic. As if responding that one shot wouldn’t be enough, a colossal shadow about twice the size of the blade-legged beasts Freyja had scorched emerged from the mists ahead of them. “The stratum boss, the Bladed Beast of Many Legs, has made its appearance! Mage unit, to the front!” Leonhardt ordered as he crossed the vanguard. His voice was audible even to Freyja and the others all the way in the center the marching force. A decisive battle was nearing: an attack on the stratum boss with the full might of the Labyrinth City behind it. This time, the army had not only special-grade heal potions at their disposal, but mana potions as well. They could not have been more prepared to challenge such a tremendous foe. Freyja’s hand still tightly held Sieg’s head, even as his eyes rolled back and he lost consciousness. Mitchell and a few other soldiers from the Forces surrounded Freyja at a distance and exchanged bewildered glances, unsure what to do. “Haaah…” Freyja lifted her chin slightly and exhaled. Her body was scorching, her blood boiling. Perhaps such a description was less metaphorical than one might have first thought, too. Freyja’s breath quivered like heat shimmer, and her long crimson hair swayed and danced, despite the lack of wind to carry it. The red strands looked as though they could burst into actual fire at any moment. She was clearly in a wild state—the others around her could see that, if nothing else. Certainly, the title Sage of Calamity seemed fitting now. Freyja was supposed to be an ally, but onlookers wondered if perhaps helping Sieg was the smarter decision. Even if Freyja unleashed another attack on par with the first, she might not even hit the boss in her current state of mind. As Mitchell and the others began to feel a sense of danger emanating from Freyja that rivaled the stratum boss’s own, a merciful rain doused the woman. “Water!!! Masterrr! What are you doing?!” Mariela had leaped from her raptor mount and came running to scold Freyja, dumping water on her head and extinguishing her. “M-Mariela?!” Freyja, who had quite suddenly—and very thankfully—returned to her senses, turned pale the instant she saw Mariela’s face. “You are…very angry…” There was nothing rarer than seeing Freyja nervous, but it was understandable. Her student was furious. Mariela’s eyebrows, usually low and flat, were harshly slanted like the cut of a blade, and her mouth stretched into a disapproving frown. “I told you! I said don’t cause trouble! I said you cannot, cannot play tricks on people!” “S-s-s…sorry, Mariela. It was a mistake. I didn’t mean—” “You really, really never learn, ever! Ahhh! Look at what happened to Sieg!!” It was a curious scene. One had to wonder which of them was the master. After she tore her teacher’s hand away from Sieg to free him, a panicked Mariela crammed a high-grade heal potion into his mouth. Perhaps because Mariela was so angry, her methods of helping Sieg were rather rough. It didn’t resemble the kind of nursing one might expect from such a gentle young girl, but this was a battlefield, and they were preparing to fight. It was a very appropriate method for the circumstances. “Cough… Ugh…” “Sieg, you’re awake?! Are you okay? Do you feel strange anywhere?” “Ma…riela?” Whether it was due to the effects of the potion or whether he’d simply choked on the liquid, Sieg woke up and brought a hand to his Spirit Eye. Although he was fatigued and felt a dull pain, as though his eye had been severely abused, everything seemed to be more or less normal. He could see the worry on Mariela’s face, and he could also see the raptor who had run after her tilting its head in the same direction as Mariela’s. Although he’d suffered a fairly intense experience, Sieg had learned how to use his Spirit Eye because of it: a reasonable fee for the lesson. “Yeah, Mariela, I’m all right. I can fight.” Sieg smiled so as to not make Mariela worry any further. Seeing this, her master began to make excuses. “Hey, he said he’s all right. It was just a little tutoring. I didn’t cause any trouble, see?” “Master? Do you think that kind of excuse will be enough?! If you’ve got that much energy, go beat some monsters, and don’t cause any more trouble for anyone! If you can do that, maybe I’ll forgive you after you go to bed without dinner!” “Ehh…but I already used up all the spirit power. Maybe if Sieg lets me…” “Maaasterrr!” “I—I know…” Mariela’s eyebrows strongly arched in anger again the instant she turned around, and Freyja, looking like a scolded child, dejectedly began walking toward the vanguard group, readying to engage with the stratum boss. “Mariela’s really something,” Sieg muttered as he watched the pair. He hadn’t said it because Mariela had thrown water on Freyja and told her off, and now she looked too meek to speak with the Labyrinth Suppression Forces. Even among humans, Mariela was exceptionally physically weak. Her alchemy skills stood out, but she didn’t have a trace of any qualities one could call powerful. There was a large gap between her strengths and weaknesses. No one embodied the imperfection of flesh like she did. To Sieg, she was irreplaceable. A very precious human being. Freyja probably felt the same way about Mariela. That was why she tolerated insults like being splashed with water and why she was able to return to her senses from that wild state she’d been in. Mariela’s strength was her charm. Sieg recalled being driven by jealousy to fire arrows at the blade-legged beasts, and he now understood what Freyja had said about him worrying. I was unknowingly worried that I couldn’t become Mariela’s number one. Surely this was what the sage had meant in reminding Sieg that he wasn’t fighting alone. If someone else had simply told him what he was doing was wrong, he wouldn’t have listened. It would have only pushed him to be more self-defeating. After lifting Mariela onto the raptor’s back again, Sieg bowed his head to Wolfgang and said, “Please keep Mariela safe.” “Leave it to me. I’ll protect your princess. I’m looking forward to seeing your arrows do great things,” Wolfgang replied with a trustworthy smile. “Mariela, I’ll shoot down any attacks aimed at you.” “Okay, but be careful, Sieg.” What had Sieg been worried about? Even in the middle of this battlefield, hadn’t Mariela come running when he was in danger and helped him? Even if Sieg couldn’t use a shield, even if he lagged behind others when it came to magic or swordsmanship, there were things only he could do for Mariela. “Rar!” “Ahaha, what is it, Koo? Are you saying you can protect me as well? Then I’ll do my best to stick to you.” The raptor giving Mariela a ride was very similar to the salamander she’d summoned with the magic circle. Most likely, the image of this raptor had served as a base for that salamander. If there was even the faintest connection between this raptor and the spirit who’d saved Sieg countless times in the battle with the red dragon, then there was no partner Mariela could’ve depended on more. Sieg vowed to do his utmost and focus on what he was capable of doing. He tightened the grip on his bow. As he did, he could see the lights of the spirits who gathered to help him flickering about. Soldiers did little to hide their whispers about the pair. Perhaps the guardsmen assigned to Mariela—who had astoundingly managed to stop the Sage of Calamity’s recklessness—had found a new appreciation for the girl. They appeared to be praising her. “Wow. She stopped the Sage of Calamity. A fantastic Fire Extinguisher.” “Nah, wouldn’t Calamity Charmer be more exact?” “That makes it sound as if she can speak to hurricanes. What about Water Bucket?” “That’s sounds too mundane. I like Fire Extinguisher better.” The guards seemed to be discussing an alias for the young alchemist. Surprisingly, none of their suggestions was all that impressive. The most popular suggestion seemed to be Mariela the Fire Extinguisher. Mariela herself wondered why they hadn’t proposed something like Firefighting Princess. Why had none of them bothered to suggest a title that sounded good? None of the nicknames even touched on her abilities with alchemy! I’m an alchemist! The only one in the Labyrinth City other than my master! I can make special-grade potions—I’m even better than a regular alchemist! So why don’t the names have anything to do with alchemy?! Though she’d shown such strength when confronting her master, Mariela said nothing to the soldiers of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces around her, instead merely shouting into the void of her own mind. This is all Master’s faaaaault! Mariela made mana potions while Sieg and the raptor protected her. About ten meters ahead of the members of the Forces who were debating the Fire Extinguisher nickname, the subjugation of the boss of the Labyrinth’s fifty-seventh stratum was about to begin. 03 “They’re swarming.” “Oh, Lady Sage.” Freyja arrived just as Leonhardt and Weishardt were about to give the signal to attack. She had a complacent expression on her face that seemed to suggest she thought herself capable of handling all the enemies herself. Mitchell, who knew Mariela had scolded and shooed Freyja all the way to the front lines, followed her in silence with a solemn expression. “Shall I help you as your opening act?” At Freyja’s proposal, Leonhardt and Weishardt exchanged glances and nodded. The blow that had utterly destroyed the blade-legged beasts swarming the Labyrinth Suppression Forces had been easily visible from the front lines. It was thanks to that blow against the enemy that the brothers had been able to arrange the Forces in a superior, more dynamic battle formation. Their new troop orientation had helped to push toward the stratum boss more quickly, if only a little. It was likely they’d have to face the master of this stratum soon. Though the creature was still little more than a vague silhouette through the haze, it was clearly heading their way with a large escort of blade-legged beasts. Freyja’s offer was sure to prove most helpful, even if she only succeeded in picking off a few. “Right, if you could use that attack from before to…” “Oh, sorry, that one’s out. I guess I’ll use have to use normal fire magic…,” Freyja said as she turned away from the brothers. Mitchell quickly approached Leonhardt and Weishardt and discreetly informed them of what had transpired. Ever the mature gentlemen, the brothers responded to Freyja by saying, “We’re grateful for your assistance.” “All right, then I’ll cut to the chase: Firestorm.” The red-haired sage abruptly launched more standard fire magic at the blade-legged beasts blurry in the haze. “Ooh…” The stir from Leonhardt and the Labyrinth Suppression Forces wasn’t empty flattery. There was no such thing as “subjugation for entertainment” in the Labyrinth, where every second was a fight for one’s life. Freyja’s fire magic was worthy of admiration and indeed of the word “firestorm.” The blaze whipped violently over the battlefield like turbid waters overflowing from a breached river. The crimson sea engulfed the front row of blade-legged beasts. None would’ve claimed it was on the same level as the incredible spirit magic from earlier, but even the thought that standard fire magic could be so powerful was astounding. Weishardt wasn’t sure he could match it, even if he put all his magical strength into a single spell. Gulp gulp gulp. The flames had completely swallowed the monsters. Freyja, too, drank up a fresh mana potion she’d brought from Mariela. And then another. “Aaah. If these were booze, I could drink them forever, but potions make me fuuull.” The woman put her left hand on her hip as she guzzled. “Did she imbue the entirety of her magical power into one strike…?” “When she’s full on mana potions, that’s it for her. She may have three…no, two shots left?” Leonhardt and Weishardt whispered to each other as they calmly analyzed the results of their Sage of Calamity observation. Determining fighting power was important, but it was a bit complacent of them to forgo focus on the stratum boss. In front of the army, Freyja’s conjured fires dried the ground, which had been moist from the haze. Steam rapidly issued from the scorched earth, carrying the obscuring fog of the stratum away with it. With the path ahead now clear and visible, they at last saw the enormous monster that was to be their opponent: the Bladed Beast of Many Legs. The name had been chosen by the reconnaissance unit, and it was an appropriate one. The monster’s gigantic body was crowded with so many legs it was difficult to know just how many the creature had. This may be a problem… Weishardt frowned ever so slightly. He’d realized upon seeing the Bladed Beast of Many Legs that his strategy was no longer optimal. The foe across the battlefield was about 20 percent taller than the blade-legged beasts, and this matched the previously received reports. However, as if to see things from a better vantage point, the Bladed Beast of Many Legs straightened its legs, climbing to a height of over twenty meters. At this rate, it will get to the alchemist…! The current ranks had been arranged to confront monsters with ten-meter legs by making ranged attacks and eluding the blades. They had the advantage of sheer numbers, and this strategy made use of that fact. However, there were few fighters capable of striking a foe twenty meters above them, to say nothing of the number that had the strength to even injure the stratum boss. The original strategy had been to limit the boss’s movement with a constant barrage and whittle it down while the soldiers took turns recovering, but with fewer shots, not only would the monster be far more time-consuming to defeat, but they wouldn’t be able to adequately pin it down, either. If even one of the appendages of the Bladed Beast of Many Legs reached the alchemist, not just this mission but their battles in any future stratums of the Labyrinth would be in dire jeopardy. Weishardt quickly altered his strategy on the spot and gave orders in rapid succession. “First, second, and third units forward. Lure the boss and attack. Fourth and fifth units, perform hit-and-run attacks while keeping the nearby blade-legged beasts in check. Seventh mage unit, attack the boss from in front of the stronghold. Do not approach it. Sixth and eighth units, keep your distance while protecting the stronghold.” The Labyrinth Suppression Forces tensed in response to his commands. This wasn’t one of the strategies that had been communicated to them in advance. Members of the Forces learned many army formations to be used in different situations, and this one was similar to one for the worst-case scenario. It was used in anticipation of desperately defending the stronghold—the alchemist—while retreating. To announce that strategy as soon as they met the stratum boss was hardly encouraging… Would their attacks even be able to reach the towering monster? And what did that say about their chances of taking on the master of the Labyrinth? Defeatist feelings spread through the vanguard. Dick, in an attempt to dispel such pessimistic thoughts, bellowed his words like a peal of thunder. “Chin up! Yes, it’s big, yes, it’s disgusting, and yes, it has a lot of legs, but we’re aiming for the torso. It’s a huge target; you can hardly miss! Hiyah! Rising Spear Annihilation!” “Follow Captain Dick!” Perhaps the man had found inspiration in Freyja’s all-out attack. Dick had shouted to inspire his comrades—and perhaps himself—into challenging the Bladed Beast of Many Legs. His comrades in the third unit followed him. They launched attacks focusing on range and power, giving no consideration to pacing themselves. The unit fought with all their might and did indeed strike the torso of the monster far above them. Unfortunately, resistance from the damp air and gravity greatly reduced the strength of their projectiles. Though the group’s attacks struck true, the damage they accomplished was like that of a needle scratching a stone. “It’s fine! We’re whittling it down! We’ll defeat it in due time!” It should be noted, however, that the mentality of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces wasn’t easily broken. How many defeats had they suffered, and how many times had they escaped nearly certain death just to be here? Winning this battle was still possible in their minds. Three units encircled the Bladed Beast of Many Legs, hoping to lure the titanic monster away while weakening it more and more. The mage unit waited in front of the stronghold, and as soon as the beast entered their range, they hurled closely concentrated attacks at it to both damage it and nudge it where they wanted it to go. The hit-and-run unit kept the blade-legged beasts that surged from the distance one after another in check. If the number of comparatively smaller monsters grew too large for the unit to handle, Freyja, Weishardt, or the A-Rank mage who was captain of the seventh unit handled them with powerful magic. If one unit became exhausted, an ad hoc unit would trade places with them while they healed and recovered in the stronghold. With every squad rotation, those who came in from the front lines for recovery were utterly spent. It was a risky situation to be in; the front was now much farther from the stronghold than originally planned. However, even such dire circumstances were familiar to the Labyrinth Suppression Forces. As long as they were still alive, wounds would heal and magical power would return. Above all, an alchemist accompanied them this time, and she could make not only special-grade heal potions, but mana potions. Even though the enemy towered above them, the soldiers of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces watched one another’s backs, supported each other’s spirits, and never broke their lines. Attacks both magical and physical colored the air above. If one had been watching this battle from a distance, it might have looked like a beautiful dance of lights, like fireworks that went on forever. From above, one might have noticed the uniform regularity of the people streaming to the back, recovering their strength, and surging forward again in intermittent waves of attacks that whittled away at the giant enemy of the little ants. And the ants were all coming and going from a single point. Joints bent with a creaking metallic sound, and the great beast raised several of its legs at once on the side where the Labyrinth Suppression Forces were fighting it. The creature was preparing to attack. Most of the long-distance attacks and magic launched to hinder the monster from taking any such offensive action were blocked by its bladelike metal legs, though some managed to slip through and strike the monster’s belly. With its legs lifted high, the stratum boss paid no heed to the attacks. It turned toward the central stronghold of the army and swung down its legs as it charged ahead in a huge cloud of dust. “Not good! Mage unit, hit it with all your power! Stronghold, fall back!” Leonhardt shouted. The mage unit obeyed, loosing bolts of powerful magic, but the Bladed Beast of Many Legs plunged into the middle of the bombardment with no regard for any blow that might’ve struck its body. The myriad of razorlike legs pierced the earth, tilling the blackened soil. Stab-stab, stab-stab. Its blades punctured both dirt and soldiers, driving toward the group who protected the alchemist. The monster was like a rock with legs growing in clusters from its nucleus. It might have had the ability to see, though there was no evidence. And if it did, then it knew. It had seen how the ants were moving. Those sharp points were about to swing down from on high and skewer poor Mariela. All the shield knights entrusted with guarding the alchemist assumed a stance with their shields. Their captain, Wolfgang, was at the center of the formation. They wouldn’t let the deadly sword-legs get beyond them, even if that meant guarding the young alchemist with their own bodies. Siegmund sprang out in front of that group and drew his bow as far back as it would go. He trained an arrow on the Bladed Beast of Many Legs. “Spirits, grant me power!” An arrow parted the air. Encircled by spiraling, mysterious light, the missile sped toward its target like a meteor in reverse. Higher and higher it climbed into the air. Sieg’s shot, loosed with as much power as he could give it, traveled in a definite trajectory as though guided along some unseen pathway. The projectile found purchase, striking a joint in one of the beast’s legs. Claaang. With a sound like stone against steel, the hunter’s arrow completely destroyed the joint in the leg that had been aiming for Mariela. The injured appendage fell, severed at that point. Two arrows, three arrows. Every time the Bladed Beast of Many Legs made an attack on the girl, an arrow from Sieg’s bow precisely plucked off another leg. Even with several legs excised from its body, the creature still had seemingly innumerable to spare. However, Sieg’s efforts had created a gap in the legs the gigantic creature was using to attack, like a comb missing teeth. That alone proved useful, affording members of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces more room to maneuver and dodge. With the great beast less able to aim for the alchemist, it would be much easier for the army to continue its attack. “Nice goin’!” The figure of a hunter confronting the beast undaunted as he continued to nock his bow was quite an attractive one. Even Wolfgang, who had stood ready to meet the enemy with his greatest shield skill, smiled broadly and praised him. There was no doubt that any woman who saw such gallantry up close would’ve felt an arrow piercing her heart. The old Sieg used to evoke the excited screams of fair women with easy shots that brought down birds. He turned his head just a little to glance behind him, hoping for such a sound from Mariela. “Combine a ley-line shard and moon magical power in a Transmutation Vessel with Drops of Life and various controls… Okay, done! Next, next!” “Raaar?” Not aware that she was the target of such a deadly monster, Mariela was making mana potions three at a time to fulfill the endless line of orders. Naturally, Sieg’s heroism was the last thing on her mind. Seeing the stalwart figure of a young alchemist making potions with such speed, Sieg commented, “This whole time, she was much less clumsy than she seemed…” He recalled the days when Mariela had only had a three in dexterity. Wolfgang looked at the clearly disappointed man and roared with laughter. “She’s quite a tough little lady, isn’t she?” the shield knight asked. “The stronghold is fine! They requested we continue attacking!” a messenger reported to Leonhardt. The battle raged. How many casualties had the Bladed Beast of Many Legs just inflicted? How many soldiers had died? How much bloodletting remained ahead of them? Nierenberg and the medical team healed the injured, and Leonhardt gathered those able to fight to challenge the boss of the stratum. Their efforts had certainly not been in vain up till now: the horrid creature’s life was being worn away with each arrow and spell. The Labyrinth subjugation was moving ever forward. This was the combined strength of the small. A united attack. “Follow me!” Leonhardt bellowed with the voice of a lion. His Lion’s Roar transformed the Labyrinth Suppression Forces from an army into a beast. His cry rallied them into a single fighting force. No, perhaps what was truly strong, what truly couldn’t be uprooted, was the spirit of those who chose to fight. The Bladed Beast of Many Legs continued to attack the soldiers of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces, raking the earth. Even the lesser monsters that were its allies were not spared the incensed titan’s wrath. With each sweep of metal legs, the Forces suffered injuries. Some even lost their lives, yet the attack didn’t let up. Honed techniques, magic, and spirit arrows rose from below like a shower of stars and struck the Bladed Beast of Many Legs in a flurry. Did the march of the small people seen from far above still resemble ants? How many volleys did it take for that image to change? After what felt like an anxious eternity—during which none dared to lower their guard— the Bladed Beast of Many Legs was at last reduced to nothing but a giant rock and fell to the earth of the Labyrinth’s fifty-seventh stratum. 04 The stratum boss was defeated; the battle was over at last. Subjugating a stratum boss was regarded by society as extremely honorable for people like soldiers and adventurers, those who battled for a living. Many among the Labyrinth Suppression Forces had accomplished this feat on more than one occasion. Their efforts were a great achievement that merited honor and praise. But did those assembled on the fifty-seventh stratum really feel that was the case right now? Leonhardt watched the soldiers gathering around their established stronghold, the center of their company’s forces. There were people who’d lost arms. Some were lending their shoulders to comrades who’d lost legs. Even so, dismemberment was preferable to the alternative. Against seemingly impossible odds, they had grasped victory, and on such a deep stratum, no less. Their kill, a giant among the largest of monsters, lay defeated on the ground. Likely, the Forces owed their victory to each soldier having reached the highest proficiency in their individual specialty. Each unit had been able to link together; they’d fought as a single entity. Of course, the fact that they’d been able to distribute enough potions to all soldiers participating in the subjugation wasn’t an element to be overlooked. So long as a man wasn’t struck dead on the spot, he could receive easy treatment via potions or healing magic if he suffered serious injuries or even lost body parts. Such knowledge did little to comfort the wounded, however. Folk rushed to Nierenberg’s team, carrying their comrades. “Please help him,” they begged with great tears in their eyes. Yet no matter how skilled the medical team, no matter how many potions they had, the dead could never be brought back to life. When Leonhardt listened carefully, he could hear people sobbing, mourning their lost comrades. The alchemist was surrounded by a hanging screen. Other than those who were appointed, none were permitted to show themselves to Mariela. Even the Labyrinth Suppression Forces soldiers were ordered not to go beyond the curtain. This was to keep the young alchemist from witnessing the terrible scene and to ward off those who would implore her for a miracle. Potions weren’t an almighty medicine. Even such powerful concoctions could never do something like resurrect the dead. Everyone present knew this, even those completely unfamiliar with the nature of potions. But though they understood with their minds, their hearts were not so easily convinced. The human heart was not easily shackled by logic. Many already thought the mere presence of an alchemist in the Labyrinth City was a miracle. It was little wonder that they held on to some impossible hope because of her presence on the stratum. Truthfully, even Leonhardt had wondered if the soldiers he’d lost could be brought back by the young girl. Hweeeee. A high-pitched whistle notified the scattered Labyrinth Suppression Forces soldiers to withdraw. The arrangement was for those who could move to take it as a sign to gather, while those who couldn’t move would use a whistle to send a signal. It was unknown how the blade-legged beasts of this stratum figured out the position of the Forces. However, it had been confirmed that they could not hear—or at least did not respond to—the whistles. Perhaps the haze itself enveloping this stratum was their sensory organ. After the stratum boss was defeated, the blade-legged beasts wandered aimlessly. They didn’t attack unless someone happened to draw especially near them. The boss might have served as some kind of brain or control tower for the whole stratum. Even if that was the case, there were still many of the beasts crawling in this stratum beyond the portion of mist Freyja had blown away. It was best for everyone to exit this stratum as quickly as possible, but the injured soldiers would first need to be restored to a state where they could fight if it came to that. At the center of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces’ assembled ranks, Nierenberg and the rest of the medical team treated the soldiers by temporarily reattaching torn-off limbs, connecting bones, and regenerating muscles and organs enough so that the wounded could at least move on their own. The Forces had brought as many potions as they could without slowing the march. They’d also been supplied with mana potions so the medical team could perform treatment without worrying about running out of magical power. Even if the healers found themselves lacking a particular potion they needed, an alchemist behind the hanging screen could make it on the spot, in most cases. Hmmm, that appears to be Crystallize Medicine, if I’m not mistaken… I must make the soldiers vow not to disclose this. Weishardt, who busied himself by taking stock of the situation, watched Mariela going about her work. As she continued to synthesize a variety of potions, the lord was suddenly struck with the thought that he should strengthen their precautions about the alchemist’s identity. The strategic superiority of transforming materials into small sandlike grains known as crystals was beyond comprehension. Ley-line shards were the bulkiest material—each one was the size of the tip of a pinky finger once crystallized—but even hundreds of potions’ worth could easily be loaded into a bag small enough to carry. So long as she reused vials without breaking them, Mariela could carry all the crystalized materials around instead of hundreds of potions. How frail Mariela seemed in contrast to her own abilities, her own usefulness! She would fall from a single arrow. She still had the heard of the ordinary girl she appeared to be. Weishardt believed they should give her ample consideration and work to never forget that frailty. This was to protect the person known as Mariela, but also to ensure the well-being of both the Labyrinth subjugation and Labyrinth City. Around the time Nierenberg and the medical team had almost finished treating the wounded, the majority of scattered soldiers had reunited with the main force. They’d finished distributing and replenishing the transported potions. “Retreat.” Leonhardt gave the order. Their victory in this stratum had cost around 20 percent of his fighting force. It was cause for celebration that the victims were few compared to the number of people they’d lost in battle with the King of Cursed Serpents. Leonhardt thought how best to praise the surviving soldiers for how admirably they’d maintained their numbers against such a strong enemy and how to properly extol the struggle of those who’d sacrificed themselves. But he didn’t have the courage to make such a speech here. I hadn’t lost any soldiers recently…until now… Even if they’d suffered fewer casualties than in the battle with the King of Cursed Serpents, the heartbreak never got easier. Other survivors of the battle probably felt the same way. Having somehow recovered from the chaos of losing brothers-in-arms, everyone quietly made the mournful march home. It had been ruled that, for now, no one would badger the alchemist for the impossible. Mariela had emerged from the hanging screen and was also quietly heading home, accompanied by the sixth unit and Sieg. Although they’d defeated the stratum boss, the march of the Labyrinth Suppression Forces had the air of a funeral procession. Its men and women seemed content to sink into the heavy gloom of the stratum. Ahead of the less-than-triumphant return, the curiously humanoid shapes took form in the mist. “Were there survivors?” It wasn’t just one or two figures that were shambling forward. With hope in their eyes, everyone wondered if these survivors had miraculously managed to find the bulk of what remained of the army. Hweeeee, hwee-hwee-hweeee. Although they signaled to inform these mysterious people that they were allies, no reaction was visible from the bodies in the fog. Could that many people have lost their whistles? “Reporting in! Large numbers of enemies are approaching ahead! The enemies are walking corpses! Malraux and the other lieutenants have already engaged. They’ve requested we prepare to return fire at once!” “Did you say corpses?! There shouldn’t be monsters like that in this stratum. The boss was defeated. It shouldn’t be possible for a new type of monster to generate. Where in the world did they come from…?” “From the staircase connecting to the floor below, the fifty-eighth stratum! They’re flooding up from below!” The scout’s answer to Leonhardt’s question keyed him in to something incredibly important and equally dire. “Wha— You’re saying monsters are moving through strata?! Isn’t that…!!!” Leonhardt couldn’t bring himself to say it, but everyone knew. Monsters moving up the strata could only mean one thing. A stampede. “Sixth, seventh, and eighth units, medical team, prioritize defense! Everyone else, follow me! Our objective is the swarm of corpses ahead! Number unknown! Under no circumstances do we allow them to reach the surface!!!” Leonhardt pulled his sword free of its scabbard. New, desperate purpose dispelled the Labyrinth Suppression Forces’ sadness. If they had held any doubts as to the significance of their sacrifice and the meaning of their existence, the members of the Forces were now free of such hesitations. Strength and fighting spirit once again flowed through minds and bodies that had been so beaten and exhausted from the previous encounter. The power of these stalwart warriors’ determination surpassed even the limits of their own flesh. “Protect our town! Now is the time for glory!” A rallying battle cry erupted from the ranks. With weapons in hand, the Labyrinth Suppression Forces faced the swarm of corpses descending like an avalanche from beyond the veil of mist. The fierce appearance of the soldiers and adventurers made Mariela, who watched from behind, remember the Stampede of two hundred years ago. It’s the same as back then… Mariela felt the chill hand of fear at her back. The day of the Stampede, she hadn’t been able to do anything but flee. Even now, though she made the potions they asked for, people still got hurt, even died. Though the soldiers were careful not to let her catch sight of the carnage, Mariela still knew many had returned to the ley line. On that day two centuries ago, many had urged her to flee. They’d pushed her not to delay, to make her escape. Now the young alchemist understood that they’d been trying to save her. Kindness had been disguised by acidic words and sharp tongues; they had been concerned for Mariela’s safety. Her heart suddenly overflowed with gratitude. So when she saw the figures looming through a clear patch of air, Mariela opened her mouth in a soundless cry. Not just because the corpses had humanoid shapes. Nor because the monsters about to clash with the Labyrinth Suppression had such wretched and unsightly forms, though that hardly helped. Mariela could see an arm that clearly belonged to someone else stuck in the place where a leg should’ve been. Another corpse had a monster’s torso stuck below its own shredded midsection. “Take up your swords! Let loose your magic. Protect our city!” It was a cry nearly identical to the call for battle that Mariela had heard on the day of the Stampede. “Protect our town! Now is the time for glory!” The alchemist couldn’t help but wonder which group’s voice she was hearing right now. The lifeless people flooded ceaselessly from the Labyrinth’s fifty-eighth stratum. The surge of corpses didn’t know they’d lost their lives—or that they’d been lost to history. Ignorant of their own deaths, they had taken up swords and were coming this way. They marched just as they had two hundred years ago. Yes. What truly frightened Mariela the most was that the advancing corpses were unmistakably the people of the Citadel City and the Kingdom of Endalsia—those who had once fought the Stampede and lost everything for it.