Our party forged on in that same tight-knit formation, not running into monsters for a good while. I remained alert and strained every one of my senses, and I had Yukikaze keep her sensors activated, too. Her aqueous cerebrum had about enough power left to get us through this floor, an update that I shared with Pops, unnecessarily perhaps. Secretly, I also placed tracers on all four of our high-risk targets. If our defenses failed and one of them was taken, I’d be able to track them down.
Just then, a white figure suddenly appeared down the corridor amid the pitch-black darkness. As it crossed the threshold, the light from our lanterns revealed its true form, one so perverse that it sent a sinister chill slithering down my spine. Shaped like a person, the ghoul had skin as pale as one of a drowned corpse. Not a single lock or strand of body hair covered its sexless, emaciated, gaunt body. Unnaturally long nails, sharp and mean, extended from its fingertips. Most disturbingly, it had no mouth nor nose, only a huge eyeball where its face should’ve been. Piercingly blue and full of emotion, the eye looked too human for comfort. Out of all the varied species of monsters I’d encountered so far, none had ever stirred a physiological aversion in me like this one.
Pops put up his hand and signaled us to stop. That man had fast reflexes. Instantly, he closed the ten meters between him and the monstrosity, then lopped its head off with his longsword and brought the severed creature back to us.
“We call these things saplings. Watch its corpse, and you’ll see why.”
The headless figure twisted and shriveled in on itself into something resembling a young tree, then began to disintegrate and disappear into dust. A similar process began on the scalp Pops held in his hands, but so far, it still retained its former shape. Though almost too withered to recognize, long, pointed ears remained on either side of the sapling’s head.
“Look—these are elf ears, much like the ones belonging to the elven adventurers who have gone missing here in the past years. I take no pleasure in the thought, but it’s very likely those abducted adventurers serve as the foundation of these vile creatures.”
““………””
The idea left us all speechless. Finally, I understood how this floor came to be called the Deranged Stratum. Parties in their search for lost friends had presumably fought these saplings—monsters bearing the very same identifying features as their fallen comrades.
What a nightmare from hell. I don’t even want to imagine what that’s like.
“Aside from this Eye sapling, we’ve also got Ears, a faceless variation with incredible hearing. The worst, though, are the Mouths. Their entire face is one big cavity. These can chant magic, reproductions of the spells once incanted by kidnapped adventurers.”
A monster that can use magic? Damn, that’s not good. One relatively weak but wide-ranging spell would be enough to blow through the little ryvius I have and send me to my grave.
“Alone, they’re not much. Any adventurer worth their salt could take them down with one blow. But they’ve got a very dangerous ability. If an Eye watches you for too long or an Ear picks up a loud noise, they’ll call every other sapling on the floor to them.”
Some monsters on the other levels worked in the same way, but they’d only call four or five reinforcements at most. Shit would get real if every single one of these came at us at once.
“Do you have an idea of how many there are in total?” I asked, cold sweat beading on my brow.
“Normally between fifty and seventy. But they go through transitional growth, and right about now, they should number over a hundred. As if that weren’t enough, you can slay every last one of them, and they’ll spring right back up. In other words, we don’t have an exact number.”
“That’s terrible.”
“Not necessarily. As long as you stay hidden and quietly kill any you find immediately, you won’t have a problem. No problem at all.” He made it sound so simple. Or maybe knowing how to handle them alone made it “easy”?
Pops crushed the crumbling head, then looked up at us again. “Souya, Éa, I want you to take out those Eyes. Don’t worry about killing them—just make sure you hit them somewhere in the face. Don’t rush. Steady your aim and shoot. I’ll finish them off. If I fail, Shuna, you take over.”
“““Understood,””” the three of us replied in unison.
“If we encounter an Ear, we freeze. Don’t even breathe. I’ll take care of them. Mouths, we all attack at once—they take priority. Cut them down as quickly as possible, and no matter what, never let them finish their spell.”
“One question, Pops,” I interjected.
“Aye?”
“What if we run into multiple of more than one type?”
“I’ll handle it. The rest of you, back me up. Just try not to get in my way.” So basically, leave it all to him.
I didn’t find out until much later, but Pops was not the only gatekeeper to guard this floor. He joined parties with elves or powerful mages, but elite adventurers took turns guiding the rest of the groups. In other words, this level provided a chance for skilled veterans to show initiates how it’s done. It gave newbies a guideline of the powerful strength they should aim for, an inspiration to garner envy and motivate the newer generations to one day reach those same pinnacles of expertise. We’d seen more than our fair share even before reaching this floor—or so I thought until the father of adventurers showed off his extra tremendous feats of skill.
The words fast and nimble couldn’t even clearly explain how quickly he moved. Though better than average, his swordsmanship was not particularly out of the ordinary. Even so, it baffled me that a single man could achieve such awesome power with nothing more than a sword and shield. I’d hardly spent any time with swords, but even I could recognize the absolute mastery he commanded. Only with his blade and shield, this man could fight against anything and reach the highest of heights.
It fired even me up, which was surprising given my rather dismal outlook on life. But Pops had the strength every man dreamed of. Shuna, clearly just as enthralled, hungrily watched the adventurer, spellbound. His expertise became a source of inspiration for us, elevating our technique.
“Four enemies approaching,” Yukikaze alerted. Then we saw them at a four-way intersection: two Mouths flanked on either side by an Eye. Éa and I exchanged glances, silently deciding I’d take the Eye on the right and leave the left one for her. Our arrows sailed through their marks.
A lovely, enchanting voice began to flow from one of the Mouths. “O Flames, dance with your primal power and turn—”
But Pops and Shuna lunged at it, their swords crossing and severing the Mouth in two. Gaslark finished off both Eyes we’d blinded with two thrusts of his rapier. The needlelike blade of his beautifully ornamented, slender sword was completely covered with engraved words. This goblin contained immeasurable power, too.
I kept reminding myself to not let my guard down, but I felt oddly calm. Still, one thing was on my mind: Lazalisa had broken our formation, moving up to the center line to be close to Freyja.
“Lazalisa, is something wrong?” I reached out.
“Not exactly, but I have an uneasy feeling, as if something had its gaze trained on us,” she replied, nervously inspecting our surroundings.
“It’s impossible to walk like this, Lazalisa,” Freyja complained. She had a point; the addition of a fifth person in the middle group hindered their movement. The bulging packs the beastmaid carried only exacerbated the issue.
“Lis, could you set up a defensive shield on command around the four in the center?”
“I could.”
“Great. That sound good to you, Pops?”
“Quiet,” he hissed. I’d asked the man for instruction, only to get told to shut up. He motioned for us all to crouch down low. Three minutes of total silence passed.
“One enemy approaching.”
Another two minutes later, a faceless Ear appeared. The battle-hardened adventurer’s instincts had put Yukikaze’s sensors to shame.
Though it had no eyes with which to see, the Ear looked all around. The long elf ears sprouting from its head moved as if they belonged to a completely different creature, shifting and turning every which way to pick up any sounds in the area. Less stable on its legs than the other saplings, the Ear twisted its upper body to slowly shuffle along. Its uncoordinated movements somehow made it even creepier.