Chapter 120
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 120
Chapter Title: 12th Floor - Lv. 445 Fairy Mafia (3)
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The atmosphere of the tiny artificial planet was thin. It lacked the gravity to properly hold onto an environment thick enough for creatures to live in.
Yet the surface faced no major issues because magic had accounted for that from the start, filling in the gaps.
It was a technology that seemed like a dream to magitech engineers.
They went beyond terraforming to create celestial bodies that didn't exist before.
And they designed the environment there to match their homeland.
Though the end result was laughably small compared to their ambitions, it was an achievement in its own right.
Of course, too much time had passed by now.
This commemorative first artificial planet in the galaxy was nothing more than a lawless zone mentioned in a single line in some textbook corner.
The Girl flying at high altitude was puzzled by the lack of expected chill.
Her kind had resistance to cold, but she should still feel some sensation of it.
She felt none at all.
There was no air in the vacuum to conduct heat, but the Girl had no way of knowing that.
She was in enough trouble that she needed a brief escape into her thoughts.
Before returning to the past from the Temple of Time, she'd heard that the Girl dispatched for support on the 12th floor had gotten lost.
She'd boldly declared that wouldn't happen to her...
She had no idea where she was.
The 12th floor was wider than the others, sure, but her party's travel distance had been the most erratic too.
The rocket train piercing through the planet's interior had been quite the thrill, but now she wondered if she could even enjoy that anymore.
Her current flight speed alone matched it.
The angelic race had innate flight abilities, so converting to that race came with a shift in perception.
Had the Girl originally suffered from vertigo? No.
But could she stay calm in a place where a human would surely die if they fell?
Even so, that shouldn't be possible, right? Yet less than a day had passed in her subjective time, and her perception had completely changed.
This altitude felt familiar, like it was natural. Comfortable rather than frightening—like her everyday living space, cozy and warm.
The ground below looked smaller than a toy.
Mostly wasteland. An angel's eyesight could pick out details from such dizzying heights, but there wasn't much to see.
She couldn't tell if there was a dwarven city in this timeline, but at least it would still be a city.
The only difference was who controlled it.
So she had to find gray concrete structures amid the wasteland.
They had to be somewhere.
The Girl decided to pick up speed.
The wings on her back weren't physically connected.
The feathered wings she'd seen on the 7th floor belonged to a Virtue Angel.
The Girl had drawn the Throne Angel card, so her wings were more inorganic and mechanical.
Less like wings and more like energy pins sparkling in multiple forms, floating in midair.
Yet it was strangely fascinating how she clearly recognized them as part of her body.
"Let's see, how do I accelerate again?"
They were part of her body, but she couldn't control them freely yet. Like a baby taking its first steps, thinking carefully about how to walk.
That was her state exactly.
The pin-like wings began vibrating with a low hum.
Good, it was working.
Then the mana gathered in her wings sprayed backward in a massive burst.
"Gyaaaaah! Too fast!"
Fast was fine, but she couldn't see the ground properly.
It took her a while to remember how to brake.
She hadn't controlled her direction either, so her altitude had plummeted.
If the her from this era spotted her, the God of Time would send her back immediately.
She flailed to hide among the clouds.
But there were no clouds around. The faint layer that had been there was shredded and scattered by the shockwave of her full-speed flight.
"Argh! This is driving me nuts. No navigation or anything?"
The Girl grumbled as she climbed higher. It was a planet, small or not—it was too vast.
The Hunter, the Youngest, the little wizard, and the little one were painfully learning why these fairies were called mad.
The leader's group was buying time against the lich.
Their job was to scout the stairs in the meantime.
No fairies had gathered nearby yet, so each staircase was guarded by just a couple.
They figured they could ambush and neutralize them easily.
They were wrong.
The Hunter grimaced and downed a potion. The pain from his nearly useless arm eased as it healed.
"This is insane. Are these really the fairies I know?"
The Youngest shook his head at his shield, which looked ready to shatter.
"They're definitely fairies, but they feel completely different from the ones we've seen so far."
It was true.
Fairies were powerful individuals, but in an era where firearms ruled, that didn't mean much.
A fire spirit breathing flames was less destructive than a plasma rifle burst.
So their firepower was equal or superior.
The party's wizards each carried a rifle suited to them, and the Youngest enchanted his shield to create cover.
What followed should have been one-sided shooting.
The fairies could block a few shots with magic or spirits, but that was it.
It should have been an easy fight.
They held complete qualitative superiority in gear and tactics.
Plus, it was a preemptive ambush.
But the fairies showed no fear or excitement.
In a situation where Greenskins would have charged eyes blazing while firing, the fairies remained eerily calm.
It was a chilling composure.
Just moments ago, the weaker of the two fairies had unhesitatingly used every means to become a shield.
The other launched a feint with her spirit in the meantime.
Unbelievable for an ambush. They moved like robots programmed for perfect response.
And even that feint had failed.
But the Hunter had taken heavy damage. He'd suppressed the spirit and the fairy with gunfire, but approached close to ensure they were out—only to get hit.
The fairy summoned as many low-grade fire spirits as she could with her last strength and detonated them.
Inconceivable. Weren't spirits companions to fairies? It was like calmly ordering family to die.
"Healing's done."
The little wizard said as he sprinkled spring water on the critically wounded fairy.
They'd encountered Healing Springs often enough that no one died unless instantly killed.
Another dud staircase. Real, but too narrow for even a finger—occupied by another Exile party.
The Hunter and Youngest hurried to the next. Time was always short, no matter how much they saved.
The little one followed silently with a blank expression.
This tiny vampire was unexpectedly key firepower. The leader had fed her plenty of blood, filling her [Fountain of Blood].
No one knew her past, but she dutifully fired her pistol from beyond the shield.
Average hits barely scratched her, playing perfectly to a vampire's strengths.
Mana detection spells were popping off everywhere.
Their wizards kept casting detection in response.
Where two fairies stood guard, there was always a staircase. They identified and rushed that way.
The next target was close.
"Fairies are starting to gather now, aren't they?"
The little wizard said. How much time had passed? The Hunter wiped sweat and thought.
Six fights.
All quick, but travel time added up.
The wizards cast [Haste], but it wasn't supersonic sprint magic.
The city was too vast.
And convoluted. Facilities and buildings tangled everywhere.
It might have been a planned city originally, but fairies living there could have expanded and remodeled.
Trees planted oddly here and there suggested as much.
A crossroads appeared. No visibility around.
Then a powerful mana wave erupted from beyond the corner.
The little wizard hurriedly reported it.
Mana detection.
From an extremely strong wizard.
The fairies they'd taken down weren't particularly powerful for their kind.
Non-combatants, probably.
The one ahead felt like a battle wizard by trade—dignified and imposing.
Spells began casting. Against a strong wizard, relying on gunfire alone was unwise.
Especially if more fairies were nearby.
The little wizard prepped [Lightning] via skill.
The Hunter pulled a flashbang.
He lobbed it before rounding the corner.
A blinding flash and piercing noise erupted as everyone turned.
The Youngest yelled, shield forward, charging.
Even against flash-immune foes, it drew eyes a bit.
In that gap, the little one and Hunter pushed forward.
The Hunter had the party's best marksmanship after the leader. Heavy DPS duty.
A hazy blue mist flew to the precise spot.
A magic barrier went up.
The Hunter swung his rifle. Aiming for the unreacting fairy.
The barrier expanded.
The Hunter cursed inwardly as the bluish wall filled his vision.
But his hands didn't stop. He drew a pistol—not his spent flintlock.
The dwarf arms dealer's warehouse had guns infused with magic in the materials themselves.
Most were compact pistols.
This one too.
Cold exploded.
The dry concrete floor froze into a skating rink.
Clashing magic with magic wasn't ideal, but this pistol fired more than cold.
A massive icicle, sharply pointed, hurtled toward the mana barrier.
Ice magic inherently carried physical mass beyond just chill.
The Hunter wanted at least half the barrier shattered.
Then the little wizard's [Lightning] could deal massive damage.
But the flying icicle was swallowed by rising flames.
It evaporated entirely.
The sudden wall of fire blocked all vision.
The Hunter saw it as another chance.
He signaled the little wizard, slowest around the corner.
[Lightning]
Bolts raced forth.
The air, cooled by the frost shot, heated instantly.
The scorching charge's rush was blinding—passing the shielded Youngest, it cleaved the flame wall.
Lightning slammed fully into the enemy's mana barrier.
"Fire!"
The Youngest propped his shield and pulled his rifle trigger.
Flashing plasma blobs utterly demolished the barrier.
The Hunter lobbed a plasma grenade too.
Pain if it killed a fairy, but this foe took priority.
Then the flame wall cleared.
The Hunter...
"Well now, it's been a while since I've seen such seasoned Exile party."
He heard the voice from right behind.
He instantly drew his sword. A gleaming beam formed its blade.
Far better than his old worn mace.
Its firearm-like mechanism ignored strength stats for close range.
Ideal self-defense for a ranger.
But the Hunter's blade never reached.
The wizard muttered, flicking a finger—the light comprising the blade faded.
Short-range magic-infused gunfire was a bad idea.
Still, the Hunter raised his pistol with his off-hand.
But just before trigger pull, a light ring appeared, twisting the barrel.
Simultaneously, bindings seized his body—he couldn't fire.
The pistol dropped.
"A gun processed from a frost golem's core? Quite rare in this era. Those phantoms are long extinct."
The wizard said, picking up the pistol.
A male.
"Calm down a moment. I feel like I've seen you somewhere, but can't recall. Give me a sec?"
The fairy wizard waved exaggeratedly.
His eyes could dart around, somehow. The other party members were similarly subdued.
Youngest frozen mid-punch; little one scattered to bats, each caught and bound.
"These faces... I've definitely seen them before..."
Only then did the Hunter get a proper look at the man's face.
"Senior?"
He'd aged plausibly from his youthful fairy days—delayed recognition.
The Hunter debated how to respond.
This man had spent 500 years here as an NPC.
Was he still the good guy from back then?
"Ah..."
The fairy wizard snapped his fingers, realizing something, about to speak.
A dagger flew.
The wizard casually blocked it with a barrier.
But a vampire gripped it, and the next instant, the whole barrier exploded away.
"Figured there'd be a strong fairy or two. Time was tight."
The old man hurriedly dispelled the binding magic.
Light rings shattered; freedom returned.
The Hunter thought they needed to halt this fight first.
No time.
Seeing their wizard fly off, fairies opened fire.
The orc shaman raised a massive barrier.
Just round the corner for cover.
"Don't fight—pull back first."
Bats fluttered up in a swarm.
Countless bats rained down, exploding.
Concrete floor shattered and upheaved.
Some fairies flew on wind spirits, diving in.
The Hunter realized there was no time for talk.
"Bats scouted the terrain roughly."
The leader led the party.
The vast empty city swallowed the Exiles in moments.
The fairy wizard, slumped with singed hair, stood, cast mana detection a few times, and sighed.
"No, now I remember. Still great at hiding. Neutralizing mana detection like pros."
The pursuing fairies returned soon. No casualties.
As the wizard pondered next moves, a transmission from his employer came.
[The Exiles who just arrived—I want them captured alive. All fairies, assemble at central!]
"You know these Exiles? You said you were an Exile once."
The returning spirit mage asked.
"Old acquaintance from about 500 years back. Hmm."
"Ah... then maybe?"
"That federation party, yeah."
"No way! Can you introduce me to the Spirit King?"
They'd been trying to kill each other moments ago, but this spirit mage fairy said it casually.
Not just because he was a fairy.
The sole contractor of a Spirit King visible in this era—irresistible for any spirit mage.
The fairy wizard gave a wry smile.
Fairies truly felt little rage, excitement, or enmity. They just did what needed doing.
To him, a human-born fairy, it remained alien even after 500 years.