Appraisal

Everyone knows the Labyrinth hides secret spaces. Almost no one ever actually finds one. The reason is simple: they are concealed too perfectly.

The copper key in my hand was proof enough. It had hung at the waist of a single kobold among four thousand. If their corpses had not been burned away completely—if I had never caught the glint of reflected light—it might have lain buried at the bottom of the gorge forever.

I checked the board. The key did not appear. Neither did the secret space. Even a detection skill at its highest level could not find them.

"Hm."

Still, it was worth a look. I walked into the narrow passage bored into the base of the gorge, and eight hundred strands of mana thread unspooled from my palm to comb every inch of the walls. Was it the level-up? The sensation was nothing like the mana threads I had used at the detached house in Chuncheon—far more vivid than anything laid against the skin. Simply by walking, I could feel everything I passed.

The burrow was clean. The flames that had swept the gorge had melted the interior smooth as well, which made searching with the threads easy. My footsteps went on, and there was nothing of note: an ordinary burrow, unremarkable except for how narrow it was—

Huh?

I stopped and turned my head toward a corner of the ceiling. A single strand of mana thread writhed in the empty air, pressed lightly overhead, and slipped straight through with no resistance at all. Like a keyhole.

"Bingo."

I caught the key in a mana thread and turned it. Finer than my own fingers, the thread found the angle at once. With a click, the ceiling opened.

Threads hissed as they wound around me and lifted. I had done it so often out in the real world that the motion was familiar. I pushed my head above the ceiling and checked the surroundings. Nothing much here. The thought had barely formed when the board changed—the one that had held the gorge and the burrow vanished, and an entirely new board rose in its place.

On it was a color I had never seen. A point of gold, and it was giving off light.

I sent a thread along the wall. A tap rang hollow. Empty on the other side. I closed a pickaxe in the threads and struck once, lightly, and the earthen face collapsed in a rush.

I saw no obvious threat, but that was no reason to relax. Still wrapped head to toe in mana thread, I moved past the fallen wall and looked inside at once. My shoulders jerked.

A pure white skeleton sat slumped against the wall. The shape was unmistakably human. Time had worn everything else down, but one thing still shone with a stubborn brightness. Behind the skeleton's back, a soft brown robe gave off a faint glow, as if asking to be taken.

Carefully I extended a thread and undid the robe knotted at the neck. The moment I drew it free, the skeleton crumbled to dust and was gone. I let out a breath of relief. I had worried something dangerous might follow, and yet—

A sharp whistle of air. Detection flared. Something was flying at the back of my head, a chilling edge of killing intent clinging to its tip.

The instant the danger registered, the mana threads answered. Dozens of them, coming from different directions, threw themselves across the projectile's path. It punched through anyway. Even as they burst, their senses delivered perfect information: a sharp arrow, and a head that was anything but ordinary. Thick, clinging mana gathered at the tip.

A penetration type.

So much information flooded in at once that the line of my focus drew tight. Instead of throwing my body clear, I concentrated on the threads. The plan was simple. Kill as much of the arrow's force as I could with the mana threads, and let the bracelet's defense stop whatever remained. A hundred and ten thousand points inspired far more confidence than a body I had barely put to use.

Dozens of threads wound around one another, raising their strength, then drove down hard into the arrow's path. The impact cracked the air. Some missed. Some struck true. The mana-laced head burst every thread it met, but the shaft and the fletching could not. Reinforced threads snapped the shaft and broke the feathers.

The arrow yawed wildly. The moment it lost its balance, its momentum collapsed—and still it did not stop. It flew the rest of the way and struck my back with a loose, glancing weight. The mithril bracelet ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠gave a light hum. A barrier had stopped the arrow. There was no damage.

"...Hoo."

Thank god. The body that had locked rigid with tension went slack as a sodden rag.

I turned and looked at the arrow on the floor. The bluish energy gathered on the head was fading, and everything but the head itself had been reduced to scraps. That ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had been dangerous. Seriously so. One small mistake, and I might have taken a fatal wound.

Even so, there was something hopeful in it.

...Didn't expect that.

I had heard it was more common than people thought: Awakened who stayed perfectly at ease until a crisis hit, and then froze solid. It did not apply to me. In the split second an arrow came out of a blind spot, the detection skill had read the danger exactly. Instead of dodging on reflex, I had focused on handling the threads, bundled them to raise their power, and struck the incoming arrow dead-on. Even the plan to cover whatever danger remained with the bracelet had landed perfectly. To my mind, this was closer to instinct than to anything I had learned.

"A kind of survival instinct... is that what it is?"

Or perhaps a will to live—the desperate refusal to lose, to a single arrow, a life I had only just won back. I could not cleanly tell instinct from desire. I did not need to. I was only mildly surprised by a side of myself I had not known was there.

A calm look around confirmed there was no further danger. I took the robe in a thread and came down, and only after both feet were on the ground did the tension finally leave me. My legs gave out, and I sat. A long while passed before I came back to myself and laid a hand on the robe.

No proper information surfaced. I could not even begin to guess the name. I drew Nairos's ring from my inventory and put it on, then set my hand on the robe again.

Fortunately, the name at least had come up. It was not the message I had been waiting for. Maybe if I waited a little longer.

There. Just as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I had expected, the Transcendence trait had manifested. With this, it was all but certain.

Just as I had raised my detection skill with the cursed wooden doll, and just as I had raised Appraisal through Nairos's cursed ring, I would be able to learn the skills contained in items from here on. And not merely learn them—all the way to the highest level, in a single breath.

The robe's performance was peculiar. It was a thing built for survival and convenience rather than combat, and what caught my eye most was, of course, the subspace. The method was not difficult.

"...This is something."

The moment my hand brushed the robe, the subspace activated. Even a graze of my right hand along my side, and whatever I wanted slipped straight out. A few rounds of practice, and the way of it came to me.

Bulky things go in the inventory. Anything I use often, or need in a hurry, I keep in the subspace.

The inventory convenience function looked useful as well. I tested it with resources gathered while slowly circling the upper gorge, and items of the same kind stored in the same slot—lowest-grade spirit herbs together with low-grade spirit herbs, that sort of thing. The inventory's efficiency itself had improved enormously. On top of that came survival support and damage prevention, and even appearance replication. I copied the look of the jersey I was already wearing. It felt far lighter and more comfortable than the original, and whether thanks to the survival support or not, the wasteland's particular dryness and heat vanished in an instant.

"...This ought to be enough."

I had meant to clear one more gorge, but I changed my mind. Perhaps because of the crisis in the hidden space, the line in my head felt drawn a little tight. I had already done what I came to do. There was no reason at all to get greedy.

I was curious, though. What would a Breath of Hatred filled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with four thousand souls be worth?

I checked the compass and set off north. Before long, points rose on the board: black points for dead monsters, gray points for hunters. Something was off. The gray points, three of them a moment ago, had become two. What was that? Had they split after a fight? Or—surely not murder?

I shook my head at once. This place did not permit hunters to fight one another. Murder was out of the question.

"Hm."

Their pace had slowed a great deal, perhaps because they were down a person. The mage who had not lifted a finger on the way to the gorge was now hurling fireballs in earnest. I could feel it clear as day: he was panting, drinking a potion, running out of strength. I had no intention of stepping in. As I had on the way to the gorge, I followed slowly behind them. But after a little while, the worry deepened.

They've gotten far too slow.

Only one vanguard, and the mage's support was poor besides. Both of them looked excessively worn down. Something must have happened in the gorge. In the end I walked toward the two hunters, who had all but come to a stop.

"...Hello."

A middle-aged mage sat on the ground, exhaustion written all over him. Color returned to his face the moment he saw me. The vanguard, who had been rummaging through kobold corpses, came over, bowed his head, and made his request.

"Would you help us open a path?"

What was I supposed to say at a time like this? I thought for a moment, then answered.

"I'll open the way. You both look exhausted. Just follow behind me."

The mage and the vanguard met each other's eyes, puzzlement in them. Rather than explain any further, I summoned fireballs. Flame roared up. Five orbs rose into the air and drifted this way and that at my will, as if they were alive. The corners of the mage's eyes twitched.

"N-not bad."

I left their startled gazes behind and went forward, walking without hesitation and launching a fireball at every red point that rose on the board. In a darkness I could barely see through, kobolds clustered five or six at a time could not even resist before they turned to dust and vanished.

"Whoa..."

The middle-aged mage let out a dazed breath of admiration. At some point he even stopped drinking potions. He had realized he was not needed. The young man who had stood as vanguard said nothing. A quiet sort, perhaps. Even so, a hint of gratitude came through.

In no time at all, we reached Nehemis's Tree of Life.

All of them looked spent. We sat at our ease beneath the tree, and the two of them dropped down with deep sighs. I took a seat beside them and asked, carefully.

"What happened?"

Both faces darkened. The answer came from the mage.

"We cleared the gorge kobolds well enough, but some variant was hiding in the cave. Its ambush took one of our damage dealers."

He offered no further explanation, but I grasped the situation at once. The archer who had been putting arrows into the kobolds' chests—killed in a variant's ambush.

"It was a strong one. A little worse, and we would have died too."

"...Let's go."

The vanguard muttered it quietly, then stood and brushed himself off. Had they been close? His voice was dark. I got up at once and took the lead again. My mana was overflowing in any case, and I still had more than enough focus to throw fireballs.

I blasted a path straight through. When I had taken down roughly forty kobolds, the mage spoke as if he could not believe it.

"Don't you run out of mana?"

He looked over my clothes with a dissatisfied eye.

"The gear doesn't even look particularly good. Truly remarkable."

I did not bother to answer. Honestly, I would not have known what to say, and there was no need to say anything. After that we only walked, in silence. Now and then a fireball flashed as it cut through the dark.

Before long the open ground ended and a passage appeared. The mage came over and bowed deeply.

"Thank you. Truly. I see now you were no ordinary mage. Basic magic or not, I have never seen anyone throw it around like that and come through perfectly fine."

He held out a business card. It had been the same with Yu Seo-ha last time. When a connection formed, handing over a card seemed to be the custom in this line of work.

"You've worked hard."

"...Hardly. You handled all of it. Still—with ability like this, you could land a decent post at a solid company, couldn't you?"

I did not answer. The mage, sneaking a glance at me, went to his companion and spoke with him. A farewell, most likely. I hesitated a moment. Should I offer a goodbye to the vanguard as well? No need. We were not even a formal party.

I turned and headed for the lobby. That was when it happened.

"W-wait—just a moment!"

The young man who had stood vanguard ran up to me. His face was as gloomy as it had been at the start, but his manners held. He held out a business card and bowed his head.

"Thank you... truly, for today."

"Don't mention it."

I thought that would be the end of it. Then the man added one more line.

For a moment I had nothing to say. I had not thought of that. Only then did the gloom in his face, and in everything he had done, finally make sense. His sister was dead. What must that have felt like.

"You have my condolences."

I thought of the parents I had already lost. If only I could have offered them condolences, at least. They would surely have been glad of it.

"It's because I wasn't enough."

With that, the man left. Watching his gloomy back, I thought it over. Right. The Tower was a place like this—a dangerous place, where it was never strange for anyone to die, at any time.

I was no exception. Without a detection skill that broke past the ordinary limits, I would have died as well, where no one would ever find me: inside a secret place of the kobolds, in the Labyrinth.

"Thank you for your efforts, Hunter."

Lee Hee-yeon, the administrative officer, was there again today. Her eyes flashed blue.

"Take care."

I gave a slight bow and headed for the lobby, meaning to check whether there was anything worth buying before I went home.

"...E-excuse me."

A hesitant voice came from behind me. I turned, and Officer Lee Hee-yeon was looking at me.

"Could we... speak for just a moment...?"

Her eyes trembled, just slightly.

"Please."