episode_0030

As we descended, not once were we attacked by monsters.

It had been roughly 100 years since I became an adventurer, yet this was a first-time experience.

Sometimes, even if monsters appeared in the distance, they quietly stepped aside like commoners in front of a noble carriage.

“…”

Conversely, as we went further down, Dmitri’s expression hardened.

The scenery changed as we delved deeper into the labyrinth.

Up to about the 30th floor, it just grew slightly darker and more gloomy.

But from the 40th floor onwards, everything noticeably started to become eerie.

Eyes peering from corners, human shapes lurking within walls, even ordinary shadows constantly morphing into monstrous forms.

“You don’t need to be tense. They won’t do anything.”

“I see…”

I silently held Dmitri’s hand again.

“Ah…”

Her trembling subsided slightly as I grasped her hand.

Blushing a bit, she leaned closer to me.

“…”

This sight of a young noble girl would surely attract anyone’s attention, but what I was more concerned about was the specter following us.

Although I initially told him to keep his distance and follow, I warned him to flee if faced with overwhelming foes.

While the specter’s skills surpassed those of the Retributors who challenged the labyrinth 20 years ago, their teamwork was lacking compared to my lifetime of experience.

From the 40th floor onwards, even a champion of the Royal Swordsmanship Tournament might struggle against foes alone.

I still couldn’t hear sounds of battle from behind.

Could it be that Pratia arranged for the specter to accompany us?

I hadn’t informed Pratia of his presence as a precaution, but was it a needless concern?

“He really came…”

And indeed, after 20 years, I arrived at the 50th floor of the labyrinth.

Descending the stairs reminiscent of Surado on the 49th floor revealed a drastically different scene.

The 50th floor looked exactly as I remembered.

“Wow!”

Dmitri exclaimed in awe.

It was still a bright and elegant mansion-like space.

Anyone would marvel coming here from the hellish places we’d encountered…

…Or so it seemed.

Oh, right.

We actually thought it might be some kind of trap.

“No, this is suspicious.”

“Is this where Pratia lives… Huh? Pratia?”

Dmitri spoke to the doll that guided us.

“…”

The doll remained motionless, its head hanging as if its strings had been cut.

Seeing Dmitri’s concern, I lightly tapped her shoulder and gestured across the corridor.

“Ah…”

“…”

It was him.

With neat long blonde hair and red eyes.

A small, slender body.

And in his arms, a doll…

“Oh, damn it!”

I immediately drew my sword.

“Wait a minute! Rashwood! Why on earth…!”

“So it was a trap after all?!”

“…”

The real doll being held by Pratia.

It resembled a knight in armor.

I remember.

The leader of the Retributors.

It looked just like Johann’s armor.

He used to carry around a bear doll before.

Moreover, besides that one, there were five more dolls attached to other strings in his hand.

Following those strings, I found five more dolls filled with stuffing.

All of them.

All of them were the armor of the Retributors.

I vividly remembered them as part of the same order of knights.

Why does he have these dolls?

It’s too obvious.

He turned them into dolls!

And… And me too…!

“Specter! Take Dmitri and run!”

“…”

However, there was no sign of Specter approaching.

“Specter!”

“…”

No response.

Damn it.

Damn it.

Damn it!!

“Rashwood…”

Pratia called my name as she walked towards me.

Cold sweat poured down my face.

This was the underground 50th floor of the labyrinth.

A place where Pratia could fully unleash her original abilities.

Winning a fight here was impossible.

“Well, is this the end…!”

I’ve lived a long life.

Is this how it ends?

Death.

Death…

“Haha… Well, if I die with my comrades, that’s fine too.”

I walked up to Dmitri.

Come at me.

“Here… take it…”

Pratia reached out her hand.

What kind of attack is this?

Am I going to end up like those dolls?

No, can I really die properly?

Thinking like that is a bit scary.

“…”

“…”

Nothing happened.

What’s this… underestimating me?

Planning to toy with me?

“Take it already.”

Pratia said again.

“What?”

“I wanted to give you this.”

What she handed me was… a Retributors doll.

“You’re trying to return even a corpse? In this state, no one will recognize it.”

“A corpse…? No, it’s just a doll.”

“What kind of metaphor is this?”

“Huh?”

Our words don’t match.

No, there was no way to understand from the beginning…

Yeah… it wasn’t from the start…!

“Really!”

Dmitri stepped forward.

“Hey, wait…!”

Before I could stop him, she brought the doll from Pratia’s hand and handed it to me.

“It’s a doll! Just a doll! It’s just a normal doll!”

“There’s no way. This is made by the Retributors…”

“Look! Why are you acting like this?!”

Dmitri thrust the doll resembling a Retributor into my hands.

No.

It can’t be.

It can’t be true.

It’s all lies.

Don’t fall for it.

There’s no one to trust.

It was the same back then.

Back then, she just said it was a normal doll.

Just a doll made to commemorate our old heroes.

She just said it was a doll!!

“Just a doll…! A doll…? Ah…!”

Dmitri’s expression shifted as if realizing something.

“A doll… Could it be… you are…”

We.

We hate dolls.

Since that day 300 years ago.

Unwillingly coming to this world, we fought against demons to protect people unrelated to us.

But.

But…!

“Batori…”

“It’s nothing special. To commemorate your old heroes, I made a slightly special doll.”

“The only one in the world, made in your image. Isn’t it cool? I called a very special and skilled craftsman to make it.”

“Hahaha! What old heroes? Looking at it this way, it’s no different from a mere commoner…!”

“Batori… who cornered the Evoni tribe…”

“You can never escape that curse. Your abilities are now useless.”

“Instead, I will give you a noble and glorious new mission.”

“A cursed doll modeled after the Evoni tribe…

“Now, dedicate everything to me. Everything… even the blood of the young!”

My throat itches.

Itchy.

Itchy and irritating, driving me crazy.

My throat.

On my neck…

“Ughhh!!”

***

Rashwood swung his sword.

“Go away! Don’t come here!”

He wasn’t targeting anyone.

Just swinging his sword wildly while shouting like a madman.

Not his usual skillful swordsmanship, but the struggling of someone facing death.

“Aaah!”

Dmitri crouched down.

Fortunately, the trajectory of the sword avoided her.

“Stop…!”

Pratia reached out towards Rashwood.

Behind her, countless dolls crawled out of the rooms in the corridor and rushed towards him.

“Aaahhh!!!”

Rashwood screamed almost like a wail, trembling as he fought off the dolls.

A face covered with a helmet.

But Dmitri could see clearly.

The tear-streaked, terrified true face of Rashwood.

“Oh, what have I… done…”

Dmitri belatedly recalled one of the theories about the Evoni tribe.

The massacre suffered by the Batori family at the hands of the Evoni tribe was well known, but how it was possible remained undisclosed, leaving numerous speculations.

No matter how much peace they enjoyed after a hundred years of war, their blades rusted because they were all heroes summoned by the goddess of reversal.

When Dmitri investigated Rashwood, he confirmed almost all the myths and books related to the Ebony Tribe.

Among various theories was one suggesting cursed dolls made in the exact likeness of each member of the Ebony Tribe.

Although the exact number of Ebony Tribe members at that time was unknown, it was estimated to be at least two digits.

Even if each member of the Ebony Tribe was a formidable warrior, they received magical powers and resistance to curses from the goddess to fight against demons.

Preparing cursed dolls to subdue all of them separately and simultaneously was nearly impossible, making it more of a theoretical concept than a practical solution.

An almost impossible, unrealistic tale.

But then…

“No! No!!”

Rashwood was in a frenzy.

The sword slipped from his hand.

As he was immobilized by the dolls, he desperately tried to cover his neck.

The neck.

A chilling passage from the book crossed Dmitri’s mind.

“Some Ebony Tribe members had stoppers embedded in their necks for easy bloodletting at any time.”

“Ah, no…”

Dmitri shook his head.

What was Rashwood seeing now?

The adventurer who always appeared calm and cynical was nowhere to be found.

Having barely survived exploitation and slaughter, his mind was now plagued with illness.

Years had passed.

During that time, he must have desperately buried and suppressed memories of the past.

His abnormal boundaries and sensitivity towards Pratia were likely desperate defense mechanisms for his own mind.

“Help me! Someone help me! Please!!”

Crouched like a bug, Rashwood pointed to where the stopper was inserted, pleading.

He was in hell now.

His mind had returned to that hell once again.

Why?

“It’s because of me… I…”

Tears welled up in Dmitri’s eyes.

He just…

He just wanted to be with the adventurer he admired.

To the girl who couldn’t take a single step out of her castle in her childhood, the immortal adventurer’s stories provided some relief from the pains of reality.

Though her body remained the same, her mind could finally grow.

She could endure each day dreaming.

So, he just wanted to repay her a little.

Why did this happen?

Why.

“S-stop! Pratia! Stop!”

Dmitri quickly turned and grabbed Pratia’s leg, trying to stop the doll controlled by Pratia.

“I said stop the doll right now!”

“But… Rashwood…”

“I’m telling you to stop right now! Right now!!”

As Dmitri shouted in desperation, Pratia hesitated but moved her hand again.

The dolls that had been holding Rashwood let go and slowly retreated, returning to their original positions.

Dmitri stood up abruptly, gathered all the Retributors’ dolls near Rashwood, and threw them far away.

“Oh…!”

Pratia reached out towards those dolls.

“Why… why are you doing this?”

Pratia’s voice was filled with deep sadness.

“I thought we were friends… why…”

However, her words didn’t reach Dmitri.

Still trembling, Dmitri ran towards Rashwood, embraced him, and kept apologizing incessantly.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”