A Method of My Own

"Even if you evolve the method, you'd do well to settle on a direction that actually suits you."

"Sir?"

"The Vartus Iron Body Art is a physical-enhancement mana method. Solid fundamentals, no sharp edges. Evolve it without a thought and you'll simply end up with a higher-grade version of the same thing. But is that truly the method that fits you?"

"Ah!"

"You've felt things in combat. Analyze the Vartus method properly, tune the flow of mana toward what you need, and only then evolve it. That would serve you better, I think."

"You're right. Thank you, Master!"

"Don't mention it. Most summoners couldn't have done a thing with advice like that anyway, but you've got the talent. Just keep it in mind."

"I think it'll help a great deal."

"Good. Then begin. If the mana flow looks ready to twist out of shape, I'll step in."

"Yes. I won't refuse the help."

The principle was already clear. There was no reason to drag it out.

Right where I stood, I began circulating mana exactly as the Vartus Iron Body Art prescribed, and I swung the spear as I did. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠The air cracked under the thrust. Stable, no question. A method that raises every physical attribute evenly. But after fighting through that melee in the Labyrinth and drilling the Pendulum Spear Art into my body, what I had come to feel was that my needs ran a little differently.

My reaction speed has to be faster. Stamina matters, of course, but strength isn't nearly as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠important as I thought.

A gap between what the spear art and my fighting style actually demanded. That didn't mean I could rebuild the Vartus method. All I could do was adjust the flow a little—nudge the current that reinforced strength toward reaction speed and agility instead.

A low hum rose through me, and the next swing cracked louder than the last.

Oh. Subtle, but there's a difference.

Dig into that difference and study it long enough, and I might even evolve the method without spending a single level-up point. But I had no sense at all of how long that would take. If so, then saving time was, in the truest sense, saving resources.

Another crack. Then a shorter one. I held that faintly altered flow of mana steady.

Evolve the Vartus method.

Yes.

A flash.

In that instant the mana that had been flowing so steadily began to change all at once. It grew grander, more refined, and settled into my body by degrees. Fortunately it seemed to have corrected itself along the line I had steered, and a smile came to me on its own.

Hm.

A mana method with a name that sounded hard and mighty, nothing like what it actually was. That sat a little wrong. But my name was Cheol-woo. There was nothing to be done about it.

Two days later, once I had grown used to the new method, I set out at once on my second expedition into the Labyrinth.

Good. Very good.

Where the Vartus method had raised strength, stamina, and agility in equal measure, the Cheol-woo Mana Method felt like roughly half of Vartus's strength, about the same stamina, and nearly double the agility.

Push an advanced skill to its limit, and do the modifiers become ten, twenty, thirty percent of mana? Perfect.

The strength bonus was a little disappointing, but for someone as short on agility as I was, this was the best method I could have asked for. A method of my own, evolved exactly as I had intended.

Hard not to feel proud.

Heh.

And while I had been training it, my mana stat had climbed by one for free. The Vartus Iron Body Art had never so much as hinted at raising mana. The best possible result, all around—and I had saved level-up points besides.

"You don't need to evolve the spear art?"

"I think I'm starting to see the path. I'll know for certain once I test it in a real fight."

"......Hmph. I know you accomplished a great deal on the first floor, but it won't do if that turns into arrogance. Char."

"I'll keep it in mind. That's why this time I'll only run the second floor and come back out."

"Alone, you mean?"

"Yes. Alone."

Jerik looked as if he had plenty more he wanted to say, but in the end he seemed to accept it and nodded.

Level 8, earned against hobgoblins and goblin warriors, was generally the highest level one could reach on the third floor. The artifact boots and the rest of my new arms had raised my combat power considerably. On top of that I had learned the Volante family's footwork and evolved my mana method to suit me. How was he supposed to stop me?

"Even so, carelessness is forbidden."

"Yes, Master."

"Good. Then go."

"Yes!"

Of course, if Jerik had truly known what I was thinking, he might have stopped me after all.

Perfect Clear. Sharing that with anyone else is dangerous. So I have to do this alone, no matter what.

On that single thought, I threw myself into the Labyrinth alone.

A flash. The moment I entered, what met me was the portal I had registered at the end of the first floor. I set my hand against it.

Second floor.

Another flash, and I stepped into a new labyrinth.

Hm.

As the light faded, the first thing in view was a snow-covered mountain path, nothing at all like the caves of the first floor. An entirely different world. That was why some people said the Labyrinth did not descend underground at all—that the deeper you went, the farther you traveled into other worlds. And some say that because they are other worlds, you ought to do no harm and move with care. But there was always a device trailing every adventurer that made it impossible not to recognize the Labyrinth for what it was.

An escort mission. The manageable sort?

It was already well known that the second floor was another continent buried under heavy snow. Even so, for all that it could be called another continent, the quests were assigned with no rhyme or reason. In most cases they came down to hunting low-grade monsters or to escort work, scaled exactly to the level of the second floor. That was a trait shared by most Novice-grade labyrinths—excepting the fifth floor and the tenth.

Now, where is this caravan?

Scanning the snowy path, I called Additional Information Check on the quest window.

"Hmph."

This alone gave me no sense of the difficulty.

A Fiend... that would be one of those lunatics who forced ability stones into themselves past the limit of their ability slots and turned into monsters. In the labyrinth cities, where the system made those limits plain, madmen of that sort barely existed. Inside the Labyrinth, though, I had heard such monsters turned up from time to time. How strong will it be? Still, this is the second floor. It can't be something absurd.

I followed the snowy path, picturing it only in the vaguest terms. Along the way I realized anew that the artifact boots were not merely comfortable—they kept the cold out as well. Steel boots or leather shoes, and I'd have been worrying about frostbite before anything else. I was thinking once more what a fine purchase those shoes had been when I spotted a group warming themselves at a fire in the middle of a clearing in the woods.

A caravan of considerable size. The armed fighters alone numbered more than twenty.

"Halt! Who goes there!?"

A sentry came at me at once. A group with real discipline.

"Just a traveler passing through. I'm bound for the nearest city. Might I share the road with you for a while?"

I answered as Jerik had instructed, and the sentry hesitated, glancing back. Then the plump middle-aged man seated closest to the campfire spoke.

"A mercenary? Level?"

"Eight."

"A level eight spearman. Captain Kane, can we trust him?"

"Well. Put him to work and we'll know."

The scar-faced mercenary captain shrugged as he answered, and the middle-aged man—plainly the caravan master—turned back to me.

"If a fight breaks out, you go in first. We're nearly to Edelin, so the pay is half. Still joining?"

It was the answer I had expected, so I simply nodded. My expression, though, couldn't help hardening. The terms weren't the problem.

Damn it. This isn't going to be easy.

That the escort numbered more than twenty was the real trouble. So many blades, and yet the Perfect Clear condition was protecting the caravan's own people.

......This might be harder than I thought.

So many fighters, and a condition that didn't care whether the escort lived or died. That only made me more uneasy.

Even after I joined them, I didn't sleep at once. I volunteered for the night watch on the spot. They refused.

"How are we supposed to trust the watch to a man who joined today? If something happens, we'll wake you. Sleep over there, on the edge."

Worse, another guard bedded down right beside me to watch me while I slept. Naturally, sleep was impossible. A quest appearing meant something was about to happen.

On an escort, trouble usually hits within a day.

I lay with my eyes closed, but every nerve was drawn tight. Less than an hour passed that way.

"Multiple yellow eyes ahead! Beast attack!"

"Rookie! Get up!"

I was already on my feet before the man watching me finished speaking.

"All right, prove your—!"

"Yes!"

I sprinted to the barricade of freight wagons and took the foremost place in the escort. Only then did the barking reach me.

Snarls tore out of the dark, and the things casting those bright yellow eyes revealed themselves beneath the firelight. Wolves. None of them was especially large, but there were far too many—well over thirty, just among the ones I could see.

"Rookie! Forward!"

Before the shout came from behind, I had already taken a step out.

Back on Earth I would have frozen, shaking, unable ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to do a thing. But I had already adapted, thoroughly, to this savage world—as a summoner, and as an adventurer.

Two wolves leapt the moment they saw me. I speared the first through the throat as it lunged for my neck, ripped the point free, gave half a step of ground, and ran the second through the throat as well.

This is it!

With the Pendulum Spear Art fully settled into my body, the thrust and the withdrawal, the retreat and the advance of the footwork, flowed like water. Another wolf went down the same way.

"Hey! Rookie! Not bad!"

"For real! That's damn good!"

For an instant the pack faltered. Then a chilling howl burst from deeper in the forest, and the light in the wolves' eyes changed completely. They charged all at once, mad with it.

I moved my feet and cut them down one after another, but even as their kin kept dying, the wolves that remained threw themselves at us like things possessed.

"What the—why are the wolves like this?!"

"Have they lost their minds?!"

In the end the rest of the escort had to step in to finish the ones that slipped past me. Only after every last wolf—some thirty of them, without exception—lay as a corpse did the assault stop.

"Captain, aren't these things a little off?"

"Yeah. They're off. But this is the Forest of Magical Beasts."

"You think so?"

The escort seemed to have talked themselves into accepting it, for reasons that weren't entirely clear.

There's no way this is the end.

As an adventurer of the Labyrinth, I could only tilt my head at the uneasy feeling. And then it came.

The spirits I had released at the start of the fight, to sharpen my senses, caught movement at our rear. A blast tore through the camp.

"Behind us!?"

I moved the instant I felt it through them. But in that same heartbeat one of the freight wagons ringed around us burst apart entirely, and a massive monster forced its way into the light.