Chapter 69 : Walpurgis Night (69)

The rain showed no sign of stopping.

Even Schindel Strasse, the street that was always bright, seemed drowned in the downpour now. 

The light was suffocating in the storm, and the sky above—once projected overhead—was now hidden beneath heavy clouds. 

The true face of Heimvig, of the Labyrinth, was clearly visible once more.

A vast and empty cave—immense, yet hollow.

A stubborn great prison that refused to release anyone—be it human, monster, or witch.

“When do you think the rain will stop?”

“No idea.”

Going outside in this situation would be no different from suicide.

Was it only the rain and darkness that posed a problem?

No—far worse was the wind.

While Hans and Alje spoke in their usual calm manner, a deafening crash echoed from somewhere outside.

The unrelenting wind was sweeping through the entire city, turning everything upside down. 

Fortunately, the witch’s house where Hans and Alje were staying—as well as the nearby buildings—were sturdy enough to withstand the storm.

But not everything was built that strong.

Debris that had been torn loose and shattered was now flying through the gale like bullets. 

A few even slammed into nearby buildings with brutal force.

“Maybe when the witches feel like it?”

“Haaa…”

Thanks to the trace of mystery imbued in the house, they didn’t need to worry about it collapsing—but each time a thud or crash echoed outside, they couldn’t help but flinch.

And that wasn’t the only problem.

“We’re almost out of food.”

They had been trapped in this cramped house for several days now.

With water overflowing all around them, staying hydrated and washing wasn’t the issue. 

But everything else was.

No matter how experienced a hunter might be—who would have imagined they’d end up stranded within the city?

“Maybe… it’s good that I don’t need to eat…”

They had survived until now thanks to the leftover supplies in the house and the emergency rations Hans habitually carried.

But even then, there hadn’t been much to begin with. 

Why bother stocking up on food when there was a grocery store not far away?

“Don’t say anything ridiculous.”

“But whyyy? I’m fine, really.”

“Well, I’m not fine.”

Alje’s proposed solution to their current crisis was simple:

She would starve.

From a purely rational perspective, it made sense.

Monsters were incredibly resilient—they could survive without food for days. 

Judging by her tone, Alje was likely capable of doing that too.

But Hans refused outright.

It was an emotional decision—exactly the kind he usually hated.

“But, Mister Hans… still…”

“Enough.”

Hans cut her off flatly and pointed out the window.

“We have to go out anyway.”

Even if Alje fasted, it wasn’t as if food would magically appear.

At best, it would just buy them a little more time.

It’d be nice if Walpurgis Night ended before that—but if it didn’t, they’d only be delaying the inevitable.

“Thankfully, the rain and wind… they’ve weakened a lot compared to the start. It’s still dangerous, but not to the point where we can’t move around.”

“Then can’t we wait a bit longer…?”

“No.”

The logic that it was safe enough to go out didn’t apply to Hans alone.

Rain still fell, and the wind still howled—but unless you were a massive monster, it no longer blew hard enough to knock you off your feet.

Which meant others would also start venturing outside soon.

Hans and Alje were relatively better off, having at least some stockpiled food.

But what about the others?

“Kumo Strasse is probably already hell. The buildings there couldn’t withstand the storm, and I doubt the people there had the foresight to stock up on emergency supplies.”

“Then what do we do?”

“What do you mean, what? They die.”

Hans scowled.

At least Schindel Strasse was in better shape.

Unlike beasts that bare their fangs at the first sign of danger, the ones here wore thin veils of civility. 

It would take them a little longer to shed those masks.

But if there were people who’d been starving for days, startled awake by thunder, sipping rainwater just to survive.

Those people would’ve already shed their human skin.

“Still, the nearby grocery store, the restaurants, or maybe the larger inns… there should still be supplies left in those places. We need to grab them before it’s too late.”

“But… what if someone’s already there?”

“That’s right, Alje. You’re finally starting to understand how people move.”

Hans’s idea wasn’t particularly clever or original.

Anyone starving would have thought the same thing.

Which meant—conflict was inevitable.

Life couldn’t be postponed or compromised.

“What else is there to do? If we clash—we kill.”

The days spent in Schindel Strasse had been pleasant, but far too short to truly suppress the savagery within beasts.

While the dainty ones here were still fumbling with their ceremonial masks, The hunting dogs—who had never worn any to begin with—were already baring their teeth, ready to tear into their prey.

*

Unlike Alje, who boldly and proudly stepped out of the house, Hans ran into trouble from the very beginning.

There’s always a vast difference between seeing and experiencing something.

As the rain and cutting wind beat against his body, Hans muttered under his breath.

“…Maybe I should just go back.”

“What? What did you say, Mister? I can’t hear you!”

But once you were already soaked, turning back wasn’t an option.

He had a rough idea of the layout in his head—so the only choice was to get to their destination as quickly as possible.

It was dark, but not so much that he couldn’t see a step ahead. 

He turned his head, wondering if the girl following him was doing okay.

“Mister? I asked, what did you say?”

“…Turn down your eyes.”

“Oh, okay!”

Even in the gloom, her eyes gleamed brightly—proving his concern had been unnecessary.

When he commented on her inhuman appearance, the glow in her eyes dimmed slightly, as if she could adjust it herself.

Hans turned his head back and resumed walking.

Just days ago, this street was one he had traveled without a second thought—yet now, it felt like struggling forward against the world itself.

Still, there were no signs of life.

Every house had its lights out, holding its breath.

Structures weaker than the witch’s sturdy home had collapsed completely, forcing the two to stick close to nearby walls.

Sometimes, debris swept by in the wind.

Most pieces were smaller than a fist—but even those could be deadly if they struck wrong.

The wind was still strong, and trudging through the drizzle to see the world shrouded in darkness made every step slower.

Thunk.

A gust blew, and Hans swiftly caught a piece of flying debris that stood out.

“Lucky.”

“What is it?”

“A glowstone.”

Roughly the size of a pebble.

A rounded fragment of crystallized mystery, faintly glowing, now rested in Hans’s hand.

The light was quite dim.

Street lamps usually required dozens of these glowstones, so this was expected—but even such a tiny glimmer was better than nothing.

Hans gripped his sword in one hand and the glowstone tightly in the other.

A soft, pale green light seeped through the back of his hand, scattering across the ghostly street.

“Stay close. At least now you won’t lose sight of me.”

“Obviously~”

Even a single tiny glowstone made a world of difference in visibility.

Of course, it also meant their position would now be visible to any enemies—but that was a risk he had to take.

Guided by the faint light, the two pressed forward.

The relentless downpour and encroaching darkness dulled even their sense of time.

Eventually, they reached the grocery store.

A limp ending to an exhausting excursion—but it was to be expected.

This wasn’t the deep zone of the Labyrinth or some mysterious ruin—just a regular street.

And the place they were headed?

Not some terrifying dungeon—just one of many ordinary shops.

“…I smell blood.”

Hans couldn’t pick up on it.

But if Alje said so, then it was likely true.

Some poor citizen must’ve tried to retain their humanity even in the extremities of the Labyrinth—and met a brutal end.

The shop, which once had a neat, if not flashy, appearance, was half-collapsed.

And it wasn’t from the storm—that much was clear.

The blood had long since been washed away, but the wreckage remained.

Broken swords flung aside, clumps of dark red cloth strewn about.

Traces of a desperate, violent struggle.

“So pitiful…”

“It’s already been looted.”

Even their impressions were completely different.

While Alje was staring at the trail of something human-sized having been dragged across the floor, Hans trudged forward, unbothered, stepping right over the nail marks someone had likely scratched into the ground in desperation.

In his world, this was all too familiar.

The only reason Hans hadn’t ended up the same way was because he’d been lucky—and just as much because he had clawed and fought to stay alive.

Where others might pause and offer a silent prayer upon seeing a corpse, Hans had survived by instinctively rummaging through the bodies to see if anything useful remained.

He gave a small wave to Alje, who stood motionless.

“Let’s go in.”

The girl hesitated for a moment—Then quietly followed the man inside.