Chapter 118
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 118
Chapter Title: 12th Floor - Lv. 1350 Demi-Lich Sharkma (1)
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It's important for every endeavor to have a plan, but in this case, I decided to prioritize time.
There were simply too many things a grand archmage-level lich could do while we sat around leisurely.
Even pondering it calmly from our hiding spot, we lacked information. So, we slipped out the door and got moving right away.
I cast stealth and invisibility spells on everyone as a baseline. The downside was that we couldn't see each other, but at a glance, no one would know who was there.
With our party having grown so large, I figured we'd be spotted in no time.
That wasn't the case.
"This is easier than I thought."
"No idea why, but yeah."
As we moved a bit further, I started to get a rough idea of the reason.
The deranged lich seemed to be in the middle of researching exiles.
True to its name of Fairy Mafia, the city—populated mostly by fairies—had an oddly low population density.
I'd already spotted a few from afar, but none nearby.
And most of them were out on patrol.
It wasn't hard to guess what they were up to.
"Looks like they're hunting for the stairs. Even if not, they're searching for the anvil or the spring or whatever."
The objects announcing an exile's arrival don't sprout legs and run away.
Not unless the exile dies or heads down the stairs.
Sure enough, those objects were popping up all over the place.
"It's the spring."
There weren't any armed guards posted up with weapons. The area was just decked out in fairly modern fashion.
Transporting it through pipes from afar would be impossible, of course.
Unless it was the artifact vials handed out to each exile, the water's effects would gradually evaporate, turning it into plain clean water.
No future I'd seen had ever mass-produced anything like those vials. This time wouldn't be any different.
"Still, installing actual faucets is a first."
There were more springs than expected. I even spotted what looked like stairs.
But the fairies were guarding every set of stairs without fail.
Some of them weren't even real stairs.
Deliberate fakes.
"Easy way to tell them apart. The real ones won't have a speck of dust or a single scratch. The entrance to the stairs is strictly separated from this place. Keep an eye out so you don't get fooled in a pinch."
We couldn't distinguish the fakes from a distance.
Even with guards, it wasn't impossible to take them out with a surprise attack. We approached under invisibility.
A biometric sensor blared an alarm.
"Who's there!"
Unhesitating gunfire. The Girl and I rushed in, swiftly subduing the two fairies on watch.
We didn't kill them. Part of it was consideration for the Hunter's feelings, but I was also wary of the God of Nature.
The God of Nature was willing to forgive the traitorous fairies at this point.
"Fairies are pure if you put it nicely, or just naive if you don't. Plenty of them must have realized how tough it is out there once they left home."
There were practical reasons beyond his control, too. While other races exploded in numbers thanks to technological advances, fairies hadn't changed much from a thousand years ago.
In any case, the Hunter was satisfied with the situation.
The old man asked,
"That was anticlimactic compared to the scare. This the real deal? Feels like we could just sweep the place."
Proboy shook his head.
"Their innocence is just how they are—unavoidable. But that's what makes them scarier when they snap. The moment they decide they have to fight."
Proboy had also asked us not to kill any fairies.
Fairies cherish their scarce kin. And fundamentally, they're a peaceful, laid-back race.
"Don't underestimate the fairies of this era. It was the same back then, but if one of them dies, they'll come at us to kill."
"Back then... honestly, war with fairies wasn't scary. They're strong enough, but they don't have the mindset for it, right?"
Grove Fairies, in particular, would genuinely grieve a death even after killing someone.
It might look bizarre to outsiders, but that's how they are—no hypocrisy in it. They simply exercised their right to self-defense as part of nature's order, truly wishing happiness for all.
Which leaves them sorely lacking in the hostility or rage needed for battle.
"From other races' views, they're a bit nuts, right? Now imagine flipping that switch the other way."
I knew exactly what that meant. True kindness requires leeway.
Fairies just have an endlessly high threshold before they lose it. It's not impossible to cross.
I knew what happened in extreme situations, when even the gods abandoned them with no support left.
From a fairy's perspective, it's madness; to other races, full-on psychopath territory.
"Fairies who stop empathizing with pain and craving peace. Pretty horrifying, huh."
The Hunter's face turned deadly serious.
HAVING spent so much time together, he knew their quirks—their fundamental goodness laced with something off.
"Uh, so you mean...?"
"Racial berserkers are born. They don't rage or hate, but they smile coldly and kill. They'll slaughter anyone they deem a threat, utterly without remorse. Smiling the whole time, no burden on their conscience."
A fairy going mad means the very traits holding back their group's combat power are gone.
If swarms of arrows, magic, dual blades, and spirit masters think it's worth it, they'll gladly throw their lives away.
Even in battle, their compassionate nature means they don't get hyped or panicked.
An unkind fairy is a sociopath or psychopath in its own right. It's just their wiring.
The Hunter looked glum.
"I've thought about it. That fairy nature might not always be a good thing."
"Their whole mindset's different, yeah?"
"But I still like fairies. These city ones probably didn't choose to end up like this."
"No one's gonna blame you for that—fairies are good folk. Just that when good folk get angry, nothing's scarier."
The old man spoke as if a long-held question had been answered.
"I'd wondered why the old Empire never wiped them out completely. I figured it was their harmless vibe making them give up resistance. Guess not."
The Empire might have tried hunting fairies but eventually backed off.
Greenskins love battle like a sport.
Relentless, sticky murderous intent from crazed fairies would unsettle even them.
"So we're like cows dropped into a piranha school right now?"
The Girl asked, puzzled. She grasped the gravity but it hadn't sunk in yet.
I shook my head.
"High chance it's just a contract gig. Lich provides the base; fairies handle what it can't do alone."
Fairies don't usually go mad en masse. Situations erasing their kindness just don't happen often.
The cases I knew were small-scale, like pirate crews or merc bands.
This city had a ton of fairies at a glance. Few compared to its size, sure.
"They're aiming to capture us alive anyway. So we can hold back from killing. Springs everywhere, even processed for sale—no big deal if we don't land lethal blows."
I said to just watch for instant kills. If we spared the fairies, they'd spare us.
Above all, the lich needed us alive. Focus on it.
"This isn't our stairs, anyway."
"Be nice if we could use someone else's."
The Labyrinth's rules aren't that convenient.
We prowled the dim, ashen city, careful not to kill any fairies.
It was called a city, but the fairies hadn't built it. Just a hastily constructed residential complex using an artificial planet.
Not even meant for proper residents. Planned as sites for various experiments.
Facilities for that dotted around, but most were automated, with few living quarters.
Hence, the city itself remained unpainted gray concrete.
Steel structures here and there marked key facilities, but most sat idle.
The alliance had decided to abandon the planet when the infamous human-born lich showed up.
Judged that sending an army to take it down wouldn't be worth the cost.
Of course, Sharkma already had fairies under him back then.
Not alone, but as a single force, the mighty lich that repelled a nation had finally pinpointed the intruders.
The lich was a master of magic. One who'd researched nothing but for five centuries.
His bones twitched, and he vanished. To capture the intruders, toss them in a cell, and check the new object's location.
Had to snag their vials, too. Exile glass bottles were prime revenue.
Reliable fairies went on long trips to demonstrate the spring's miracle and return.
The more revenue streams, the better. Miracle spring water was in endless demand.
New exile groups patrolled the outskirts, checking stairs one by one.
The lich approved of their methodical approach.
Smart and seasoned. Their leader must be an exile who knew a lot.
That would advance his research greatly.
Every nation obsessed over exile studies.
Just five centuries ago, they were trapped on one planet; now spread across the universe—all thanks to research fruits.
The stairs where the lich appeared hadn't been hit yet.
Two fairy sentries bobbed greetings to their employer.
The lich nodded back, then snapped his fingers. The fairies erected a barrier from the gesture alone.
Immense mana erupted—not like a mere mage, more a fusion reactor. It pulsed outward with physical force.
Even a simple mana scan carried impact.
The massive wave cleared the area.
More like an attack than echolocation.
The lich immediately detected a cluster of lifeforms off the fairies—not on his set paths.
And he teleported away again.
"He's coming! Get ready!"
Only the Girl, me, Proboy, and the old man could stand against the lich.
The others would keep moving, checking stairs. Not too many, but frequent enough.
By this planet's time, plenty of unlucky exiles had shown up in this city over a century, with a monstrous lich lurking.
Strong boss lairs always rack up such sacrifices.
After a powerful scan—like a pollen storm in my mana vision—passed, I pointed one way.
"He's appearing there!"
The teleport coords weren't heavily encrypted; I predicted it seconds early from mana flow.
No time for awe at the magical sleight-of-hand.
A vial shattered. As healing spring water spread, the lich appeared.
"Undead as expected! Don't try to win—just endure!"
In this setup, the Girl and I were tanks. Mages weak up close is cliché, but true.
Goal: disrupt Demi-Lich Sharkma's spellcasting named, minimize our damage.
The spring water should torment the lich more.
"Hm? Clever trick, fine judgment."
But he showed no pain.
Spellcasting's mental, yet even a high lich should falter under agony—my assumption missed.
The Girl's slash and my explosion were easily blocked.
The lich began manifesting magic.
I caught it in an instant. Martial mages cast faster than any pure caster; all my passives tuned for speed.
From point-blank, I seized the budding spell before it formed.
Barely nullified it.
The lich blanked for a split second. The Girl struck.
Gleaming plasma blade, overlaid with her mana.
Dagger power rivaling an aura blade.
The lich's robe armor tore and ignited weakly. It split his ribs.
Glimpse of his core: the life force vessel.
Sharkma, trusting no one and proud of his power, didn't hide it even as a lich.
As the Girl thrust again, he slid back without warning.
That's... a skill?
[Dash]. Obvious to anyone.
How far had he researched? Never seen this.
The Girl pressed calmly despite surprise. I stuck close, kept disrupting casts.
The lich abandoned manifesting spells.
Vast mana gathered in his grasp.
It detonated.
Distance yawned open in a flash.
Disruption's easier up close, obviously.
With space secured, he moved to cast again.
Ultra-minimal somatic. But if it's Sharkma, even that births horrors.
Anticipating, the vampire swordmaster—from a step back—charged.
Like Sir Dusbern, he cleaved the spell pre-manifest.
Then Mjolnir, wreathed in holy lightning, flew in.
The lich hadn't expected that bolt.
Holy lightning smashed the evil undead. Proboy got zapped down, but so did the lich.
His floating body staggered to the ground.
A big opening to recover.
The Girl and I pounced.
Back to square one like his arrival—but with springs ineffective, we needed to loop this cycle.
Even I wondered if we could take him. Maybe?
Fat chance. The future looked grim just holding out.