Chapter 122
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 122
Chapter Title: 12th Floor - Lv. 1350 Demi-Lich Sharkma (4)
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Proboy had no time to ponder the situation he was in.
By the time he finally had a moment to think, he was already in way too deep.
Battered by ennui though he was, the vampire lord—who had reigned as master of his clan for long ages—began to deliberate.
He hadn't known a powerhouse like that demi-lich lurked in this place.
He knew of Sharkma's existence, of course. The mad wizard whose rumors had circulated in distant ages past, far more so than now.
An arrogant human mage, brimming with pride and backed by power to match.
Vampires grew stronger with age as well. But mages were a breed whose very essence turned years into raw power.
Imagining what centuries as a lich might yield was beyond him.
It was a terror the young ones scarcely understood.
What a single great mage could accomplish.
Of course, taking on a fleet single-handed was impossible—but that would be the weird part if it weren't.
In this era, at any rate, he was an individual of rare might, one you wouldn't see again anytime soon.
Knowing that, Proboy had tried to warn the exile.
"Do you even realize what kind of lich we're up against here? You've experienced it yourself."
"Hm? What'd you say?"
The man who was party leader paused in his work and looked up.
He was drawing a ritual circle with his own blood. Circles from the same school of magic tended to share certain similarities in form.
This one was for interference—likely to neutralize mana detection.
Proboy had no real grasp of magic, but he'd seen enough over the years to recognize it. Marveling at the precision, he pressed on.
"Wouldn't it be wise to call in that federation fleet even now? Those loyal goblins and vampires of yours would warp right over to this planet in a heartbeat."
His words carried a subtle probe: Didn't you lot spark this war in the first place?
The exile nodded readily.
"They'd come, sure. But that might not be the brightest idea. If they knew about that lich, they'd probably just glass the whole planet."
"That wouldn't be ideal, no. But if you gave my clan time to evacuate..."
"Even factoring that in, this sector's alliance territory for now. We can't turn them hostile until the empire falls."
Proboy's mouth fell open.
"You think you're going to win this war."
"What's there to lose?"
"There's a reason the empire still holds the origin planet, isn't there?"
In other words, don't underestimate the empire's reserves. A delicate balance had held, but in the end, it was the empire that drove out the other two powers and claimed new ground.
The victor was the empire. Proboy knew that history all too well, having witnessed it firsthand.
But the exile merely flashed a sly smile.
"True enough. But you know what exiles do, right? We rewrite history."
It was an answer that left him speechless. Proboy shivered in silence.
In the end, this universe was made for exiles.
It rested in their palms.
Sure, he could end up like those greenhorns trapped in this city—but this man didn't seem to think that way.
Proboy recalled how he'd been subdued. And all the exploits of this man, known through federation channels.
Proboy nodded quietly.
At some point, the truth of this world—which had plunged him into boredom—began to stir ambition within him.
He might never become an exile himself, but couldn't he at least stand as something like a comrade? Like that orc shaman over there.
It felt like the sense of adventure and longing he'd always harbored in a corner of his heart as a youth was reawakening.
"If the chance arises, I'd love to visit that kingdom someday."
"Didn't you say you couldn't because of your clan responsibilities?"
"Eh, just hand 'em off to anyone."
He expressed only tentative interest in joining. The exile chuckled dryly and went back to his task.
Proboy felt an inexplicable surge of elation.
The Girl was caught in a dilemma. She understood it well enough.
If asked whether she'd been helpful in the lich fight, the answer was undoubtedly yes—a key asset.
But was she irreplaceable? No, not quite.
Objectively, the vampire swordmaster had fought brilliantly.
Uncle went without saying.
And if she herself was from the future...?
Just being on-site against the lich posed a problem already.
Time travel's forced recall risk meant her future self couldn't intervene.
As she agonized, Uncle offered a clear solution.
"I'm sending you that way. To rescue the detained exiles."
"Right! They're all swarming to nab us now, so the other side's gotta be lightly guarded by comparison!"
"It'll probably help a ton. Hard to claim you got caught by that lich because you're weak."
The Girl agreed. It was power enough to deliver another culture shock.
Of course, the lich hadn't unleashed proper spells in that fight.
But now she could sense mana. See it, too.
She might not grasp the full magical duel between Uncle and the lich, but she understood its intensity.
And what might have happened without a mage to interfere midway.
Up close, she knew all too well. That vortex of immense mana.
Even thrusting her dagger in, she'd felt choked by the dense power.
To this day, traces of that signature mana wafted faintly through every corner of the city.
And that was just the leakage. That was the foe they faced.
"But then... are you gonna be okay, Uncle? It seems super dangerous."
"Now I know Mjolnir works better than expected, so I'll just buy time as best I can."
The Girl nodded quietly. After all, she wasn't the core of this.
The Hunter was thrilled the Girl would join his group, but he worried for the party leader.
"Isn't she a key fighter? You sure about this?"
"When have we ever been sure? We make it work."
Then the leader raised one possibility.
"This floor's stage is huge, right? So finding someone specific won't be easy."
The Temple of Time had many functions, but pinpointing an exact spot in the past wasn't one.
You'd drop nearby-ish and find your way from there.
Alone.
Not an easy task.
"I think we're lost right now."
The Girl let out a squeak.
"I'm not directionally challenged! No way!"
The fairies mobilized. Sharkma abandoned any thought of capturing that exile party with fairies alone.
He'd have to step in himself.
And once locations were pinned, no mage of Sharkma's caliber could lose to a band of exiles.
He'd show them what a mage's barrage from the rear looked like, fairies up front as shields.
They'd pay dearly for that sting on the edge of LFV.
Capturing them alive would be simple. He'd erred by blinking into a prepared foe's midst as a mage and taking focused fire.
Superiority in power was utterly his.
All troubles stemmed from complacency.
And now he had perfect motivation fodder.
The central tower. Once the city's control spire.
Now effectively Sharkma's mage tower.
He summoned two there.
"Federation hero. The spirit king's sole contractor. Get my meaning?"
"You giving her to me?"
"Of course. I'm no spirit user. Lost interest in spirits ages ago. And even you lot wouldn't yield the spirit king, right?"
"The spirit users would club you over the head."
The dog-eared spirit user who'd first reported the intruders spoke up. Her pout was cute, but she was old now.
She spoke again, warning or advising.
"The spirit king is every spirit user's lifelong dream. Take her, and you'd lose them all."
The lich replied with grave solemnity. Voiceless, his words resonated via mana.
A voice that was magic itself—eerie at first, yet laced with strange dignity.
"I know that. That's why I'm saying I'd fully support you claiming the spirit king."
"The other spirit users might turn on you."
"Just introduce me properly. Ownership stays wholly yours."
"Deal. What do I do?"
"Aid my fight. Not by contract, but for your own sake."
To a mad fairy, nothing rang truer than self-interest.
The dog ears perked with a bright smile.
"You got it."
Moments later, a fairy mage entered. Not just any fairy or mage.
Sharkma knew this one had once been an exile.
"You seem awfully dissatisfied."
"Dissatisfied? Hardly..."
"Regrets, no? About quitting exile life."
"I didn't quit. It ended. Just retirement time."
The fairy mage snapped curtly. The truth in it added thorns to his words.
"Fancy visiting the kingdom? Help with my research."
The fairy mage's face twitched faintly. This lich before him was an NPC.
An NPC he'd occasionally crossed paths with over a century.
Now that NPC was propositioning him, no different from other exiles.
"I know the kingdom's state from the captives so far. Terrifying powerhouses abound, but most ignore servers like this. Right?"
"What're you getting at?"
The skull clattered with laughter.
"You know. I once aimed to conquer the kingdom."
"Heard this run's kingdom has too many you can't handle."
Rankers, hyper-rankers—they were monsters gripping the labyrinth's laws.
Even Sharkma, the mad mage obsessed with labyrinth research, could be crushed by a finger from them.
"Gave that up, yeah. But I won't rot in what's called a server. Bet you're feeling it now too. Research hit a wall."
The fairy mage grew ever more stifled. His exile twilight's pastoral dreams were long gone.
All that remained was baseless impatience.
He'd grown accustomed to fairy lifespan. At 500 body years, it was natural. But even for a fairy, that was middle-aged.
Fairies lived long, but not forever.
What had he accomplished? Nothing.
The alliance's fairy fall rendered all his deeds worthless.
Too much time had passed to turn back.
Sharkma knew it well. What else would a labyrinth-exile researcher do but squeeze a former exile dry?
The wicked lich wrung everything and still wouldn't release him.
Though that was just the fairy mage's unfair grudge.
In truth, treatment had been decent. No place to go if freed anyway.
Yet a murky black fog of dark sentiment swelled.
The lich's words drew him deeper into that unpleasant gloom.
He didn't see it as NPC bias.
But now he got it. He would rather stay an exile.
That century might have sprouted adventure or wanderlust in his aged heart.
Or perhaps five centuries as a fairy finally broke him.
But all those thoughts washed away with the lich's next words.
"Once we capture them, we'll seize their gear and knowledge. Then we head to the kingdom."
"The kingdom...?"
"Don't you have plenty of prisoners whose 100-year terms haven't ended, stairs still ahead?"
None had even neared 100, in truth.
As the fairy mage himself proved, long-time labyrinth exiles were mighty.
Even more so post-kingdom farming.
Pre-kingdom was just tutorial, not the real game.
"We have brainwashed ones too. Lead with them to infiltrate the kingdom. Let's play exile. Ease that stifled feeling, eh?"
The fairy mage didn't reply. He just chuckled lowly. Laughter bubbled unbidden. Not a pleasant one.
What if he took this hand?
Plenty of NPCs drifted to the kingdom with ill intent.
But none among them analyzed and recreated [Skills] through research alone.
This lich, seeking to dismantle and claim the labyrinth, might be worth following.
The federation hero couldn't summon the fleet here instantly, whatever her tricks.
And the federation was at war.
The fairy mage could guess where exile meddling began and ended.
That man wouldn't divert federation forces here lightly.
The fairy mage stopped laughing and extended his hand. Not as a contractual minion, but as a fellow exile party member.
Sharkma grasped it gladly.
The hand of one who'd been an exile and one who yearned to be shook.