Chapter 32 : Labyrinth (32)

After a bit of idle chatter and maintenance, it was time to set off again.

Neither of them had fully recovered yet, but this wasn’t a good spot to set up camp.

Blood was still splattered everywhere, and they weren’t too far from the base.

But before that …“What are you looking at, old man?”

Hans unfolded the scroll in his hands.

He hadn’t come out here just to hunt whatever prey happened to fetch a decent price.

Hans had a clear objective, one set by the witch herself.

The eye of a three-eyed hound, the feather of a one-winged angel, a witchflower, and the bile stone of a five-horned serpent.

The three-eyed hounds were everywhere, so there was no rush for that one.

Still, freshness mattered, so they’d collect those on the way back.

The others, however, were far trickier.

Let’s see… should we start with the one-winged angel?

As Hans frowned in thought, a bright, melodic voice spoke up beside him.

“Hear me. You who have been reborn a hundred times in the hearth’s flames, you who bloom the flower of iron with the breath of fire—faithful servant of Johannes. For the cause of the forsaken—”

“Whoa, hold on a second.”

“Hm?”

“You… you’re reading this?”

Hans waved the scroll in front of her, and Alje nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Weren’t you reading it too?”

“…This is written in the language of the goddesses, right? I can’t read witch’s script.”

The truth was, Hans was illiterate.

He couldn’t even read the common continental language, let alone the divine script.

The only reason he could pretend to understand the scroll was because he’d memorized the shapes of a few frequently used words — mostly the names of monsters.

“Oh, really? Want me to read it for you?”

“That’d be great.”

“Okay, give me a sec… The grammar’s a bit different from ours, so it’s a little tricky to translate…”

Alje paused in thought for a moment, but when she began speaking again, the words flowed smoothly and fluently.

“…From the prison of the stillborn sons, retrieve the things I recite. ‘The vigilant beast of unwavering loyalty,’ ‘The mark of a wanderer cast out from paradise,’ ‘The beauty blooming in the corpse field of sin,’ and ‘The false dragon’s crown burdened with unbearable weight ’.”

Hans found himself first impressed by the sheer pleasantness of Alje’s voice — and then by the ancient language’s ability to make even simple instructions sound so needlessly complicated.

And, most importantly, despite all the flowery metaphors… the message wasn’t exactly helpful.

“That’s it?”

“Yep!”

“Well, thanks. Good job.”

It hadn’t been all that useful, but Hans figured Alje deserved some praise anyway.

Honestly, just that bright, beaming smile made it worthwhile.

“Hey… are you sure about this? That ‘wanderer cast out from paradise’… I heard that’s a pretty powerful monster.”

“That’s what you Saints call it, huh? You mean the one-winged angel?”

“Mm-hm. Judging by the description, it should be that.”

It wasn’t exactly massive in size, but when it came to sheer individual strength, the one-winged angel was far more dangerous than the three-armed giant Hans had barely escaped from earlier.

And while Hans was fully equipped this time, it was still obvious he couldn’t take on something like that alone.

Not that he had any intention of asking for Alje’s help.

Whether it was the power of a Saint or the power of monsters,That was an unspoken taboo between them.

Alje had never once referred to herself as anything inhuman — and while Hans was fully aware of the truth, he’d never brought it up either.

Before the conversation could take a more uncomfortable turn, Hans smoothly changed the subject.

“Hey, Alje. Ever heard this one?”

“Hm?”

“The easiest way to win a fight.”

It was something one of his few friends in the labyrinth had said.

Not that it mattered anymore — the guy was dead — but his knowledge had lived on through Hans and often came in handy.

Besides, there was no way Gretel — for all her harshness — would have sent Hans on a mission so dangerous it was practically suicide.

Hunting the one-winged angel would normally require a team of dozens of seekers, hunters, and guides.

But Hans and Gretel didn’t need the whole creature — just a fragment of it.

“The easiest way to win a fight… is not to fight at all.”

“What—? What kind of nonsense is that!”

“You’ll see soon enough.”

Hans flashed Alje a mischievous grin as her face twisted in confusion.

*

Beyond the forest lay a rocky expanse.

Only the areas connected to the labyrinth’s rifts had been properly explored and mapped.

If they wanted even a glimpse of a creature as dangerous as the one-winged angel, they’d have to walk for days.

And so began an endless, tedious march.

Hans, hauling a backpack nearly as big as he was, occasionally glanced over his shoulder.

“Boo…”

Despite being a complete novice, Alje kept up just fine.

Not that Hans had ever worried about that — she’d already demonstrated her extraordinary physical abilities more than once.

No… the part that worried him was her mind.

Because while her body was superhuman, the girl’s heart was anything but.

“Adventure… isn’t as fun as I thought.”

It might feel like an adventure to her, but for most people living in the labyrinth, this was just everyday life.

A dirty, exhausting, and terribly boring everyday life.

The barren wind swept up dry dust and bits of stone, swirling them through the air.

Jagged rocks jutted out like gravestones, and the ground was pockmarked with shallow and deep holes — like the scars left by burrowing insects — just waiting for someone careless to stumble into them.

The uneven terrain made even walking a chore.

Those sunken pits might look like decent places to rest, but… they were traps.

“Eek!”

A gaping maw shot up from the cracked earth.

They weren’t rare — in fact, within their habitat, these creatures were even more common than the three-eyed hounds.

And where did they live?

In places without moisture, where the ground was dry and hard — places just like this.

Unlike humans, Alje had no hesitation when facing monsters.

Even while letting out that adorable shriek, she promptly stomped down on the jaws that had lunged at her feet.

Crunch.

The hardened carapace — tough enough to deflect most blades — shattered instantly beneath her foot.

Hans was momentarily speechless.

Since when were those things that easy to crush?

The same girlish sensibilities that had often been a hindrance were proving surprisingly helpful right now.

After all, Alje’s particular hatred for anything with too many legs was making her attacks far more aggressive than usual.

“Give me a weapon!”

“…Huh?”

“A weapon, old man! Anything — hurry!”

That she’d left the labyrinth without so much as a dagger would’ve been sheer madness for anyone else.

But for Alje, it was just one more thing that set her apart.

Instead of a weapon, Hans handed her a thick, sturdy branch he’d picked up while they passed through the forest earlier.

Without a word, Alje grabbed it and immediately began swinging.

Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack.

As if the earlier attack had been just a warning, the ground burst open — and the swarm began pouring out.

A single one was gross enough.

But dozens of them, squirming together in a writhing mass?

It was the stuff of nightmares.

The “Four-Form Deathbugs” got their name from their ability to evolve into four distinct shapes — each requiring a different strategy to handle.

They were a nightmare for rookie hunters because fighting them meant having to memorize three separate methods of dealing with a single type of monster.

Why only three when there were four forms?

Well…“Ahhh! Old man! You don’t have anything harder? I don’t want to touch those things!”

“…So that’s why you suddenly wanted a weapon.”

The ones appearing now were in their juvenile form.

Their bodies were stout and oval-shaped like cigarette beetles, but their massive, oversized mandibles made them resemble stag beetles.

Their shells were absurdly tough, and their jaws and legs were strong enough to burrow through solid rock — not just soil or sand.

There were far too many of them, and even if you managed to kill some, they weren’t worth much.

The easiest way to deal with them?

“Alje!”

“Huh?!”

“Let’s go — now!”

Very few people could pull off Alje’s “crush-them-with-a-stick” technique.

By the time her makeshift club had been reduced to a sticky, insect-goo-covered stub, she was more than ready to throw it away and run.

The bugs, now pouring out of the ground like a flood, waddled after her with clumsy determination.

As she ran toward him, Hans noticed Alje’s panicked expression slowly begin to calm.

After all…Yeah, they were gross.

Yeah, there were a lot of them.

And yeah, they were dangerous if you weren’t careful.

But those things were slow.

Their clumsy bodies were great for digging but terrible for moving on solid ground.

And considering their natural habitat was hard, rocky terrain, even their underground movement wasn’t particularly fast.

The best way to handle the Four-Form Deathbugs?

Just don’t fight them in the first place.

Realizing this a bit too late, Alje’s face twisted into a mix of relief and embarrassment.

“Oh…”

“As long as we stay ahead of them, we’ll be fine. Don’t worry too much.”

Sure enough, the sound of their rustling and scraping soon faded into the distance.

Hans still didn’t quite get why Alje was so freaked out by bugs when her own… “features” weren’t all that different.

But he wisely kept his mouth shut.

After all, seeing her crush those armored shells like they were made of paper had been shocking even for a seasoned hunter like him.

“Hey, don’t get too close. You’ll get their guts all over you.”

“Old man!”

Bam!

He didn’t manage to keep his mouth shut for long enough.

And so, he got hit.