Chapter 45
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 45
Chapter Title: 6th Floor - Lv. 95 Stormhowl Brigade (2)
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After that, I'd been stuck in a state of constant confusion.
I'd blabbered on about how unfamiliar it all felt, but statistically speaking, there were bound to be some things I'd never experienced before.
Hero units showing up before the kingdom phase was almost unheard of.
How rare? Rarer than pulling a dragon card.
Even as a gamer, I could count on one hand the number of times I'd encountered one—and every single time, I'd just gotten crushed.
It was an obstacle way too massive to overcome.
Most hero units were tied to [Racial Mainstreams] anyway, and they themselves were kingdom-phase content.
Yet it died? Unless it was somewhere special like the Abyss, there was no overlap between pre-kingdom and post-kingdom.
The chance of post-kingdom exiles from a different server slipping in was nil.
Whoever killed Karkrish had to be someone inside this tutorial server.
Blanche? No, that didn't make sense.
They'd only met us on the 3rd floor at most.
No matter how speedrun-happy they were, they couldn't have reached a floor where hero units spawn yet.
In a normal scenario without the Girl, something like Karkrish wouldn't appear until right before the kingdom.
Unless... the Girl's presence was influencing things way more broadly than I'd thought.
If that was the case, it could get tricky in all sorts of ways... but it was out of my reach.
Either way, a [Hero Unit] dying at this timing?
Was there another veteran on my level hiding in this tutorial server?
Or maybe something was brewing inside the Greenskin ranks.
Either possibility wasn't zero.
A veteran exile keeping themselves hidden. Unless they were babysitting a newbie like me, there was zero merit in it.
If you had the chops to take down a hero unit pre-kingdom, you'd be better off blasting straight to the kingdom and farming.
The mega-guilds post-kingdom lose their minds over 70-year vets.
Still, just in case, I quickly recalled the faces we'd seen on the 3rd floor.
The most likely suspect was one of them.
But completely hidden? Abandoning even their race card?
Right then, another possibility flashed through my mind.
The fairy mage from Night Crow.
Not every exile who hits 100 years and becomes a Labyrinth Resident has that kind of skill.
But that old coot? Just from how he talked, he had that vibe of someone seasoned deep in the game.
Had this guy broken the code of conduct?
If he'd settled down in a tutorial server instead of the kingdom, he should've just kept quiet.
I wrung a curse from the depths of my soul, wishing baldness upon him.
Ah, damn—curses like that need the real name.
The goddess answered me.
"What an utter scoundrel, ignorant of the code of honor. Curse received."
'My goddess, don't you lack the authority for curses like that?'
"And I'm saying I'll pray along with you."
'...You're starting to feel more like a friend these days.'
"Did I ever have any dignity from our first meeting? I've given up now. Wanna be real friends?"
'But you have your spring and autumn—I couldn't possibly...'
"Heh heh, you're a real bastard."
The first thing the Girl noticed while looking around the village was how incredibly quaint it all was.
The dwarves were tiny, true to their name.
Specifically, they looked like human elementary school upperclassmen.
Kids were cute unless they were exceptionally ugly.
The Girl felt some deep-seated desire being fulfilled.
They're all so cute.
It was a rebound from the past few days of everyone just fawning over her cuteness.
She admired maturity and knew she'd go wild for anything smaller and cuter than herself.
Looking back, the only one in the elf archer party who'd been her junior was that little mage.
Next time they met, she'd be extra nice. Hug her tight and pat her head.
Make her call me "big sis" one more time.
The Girl had never had a little sibling.
Uncle had gone off to negotiate with the village chief.
His exile status hadn't slipped.
The moss dwarf merchant had no reason to warn this rock dwarf village about exiles.
A human party showing up perfectly disguised as locals just looked like travelers or adventurers.
As everyone whispered and eyed the strangers warily, Uncle returned.
"They're giving us a barn. Even a guest room would be too small for us anyway."
He glanced at the Girl as he said that.
"You seem like you'd fit fine. Wanna sleep inside?"
"Are you calling me small right now?"
"Hey now, what're you saying? At dwarf height, that's gigantism."
Of course, the Girl refused the guest room.
The petite, adorable bed tempted her a bit, but she wanted to stick with the group more.
Bonds formed without you realizing, and they weren't just with Uncle—they extended to the other two as well.
The weather was still brutally cold, though. When the sun set, temps plunged below freezing.
Water froze solid, and sleeping in haystacks or storerooms was freezing without proper gear.
Without sleeping bags—the pinnacle of civilization—it could've been deadly. Thanks, Night Crow.
That swamp was already pretty far north, so they'd figured we might head even higher.
These NPCs knew exiles inside out.
"This is what sucks about snowfield themes. You just straight-up freeze to death. Monsters are preferable."
"Are there villages everywhere?"
"Nope. Pretty often there aren't."
"It's survival..."
"Later on, cold becomes irrelevant to survival. Feeling it much?"
Uncle told her to open the Mind Map, so she did.
She picked a branch—maybe pumping Self-Sufficiency a bit wouldn't hurt.
A passive skill popped up.
[Cold Resistance]
"Not [Frost Resistance], so it just means less bothered by cold. But way better, right?"
"Yeah. Feels like the most noticeable passive."
"Stats-wise it's trash, so I skip it. Life isn't all about efficiency, though. It'll merge into [Frost Resistance] later."
"But I'm still cold."
The Girl wriggled over and snuggled against Uncle.
He sighed and unzipped his sleeping bag.
She unzipped hers too, connecting them into one big two-person bag.
The Girl beamed.
Survival necessity—totally legal.
The Youngest glanced at the Hunter. Unlike him, used to the cold, the Hunter looked rough.
All sorts of thoughts crossed his mind, but after some deliberation, he asked,
"Bro. Should we...?"
"Gross. Get lost."
The Hunter pretended to gag in rejection.
The Youngest just shrugged, like he'd expected that.
Sunsets came early and sunrises late in these lands.
But short days didn't mean less work.
The harsh environment demanded even more diligence to survive.
So mornings started early.
Before dawn pierced the night's shadows, everyone bustled out of bed.
They let the Girl sleep. She'd wake soon enough from the cold, but kids needed their rest.
The Hunter and Youngest rose around the same time as me.
It was a familiar routine.
Or rather, it happened nearly every floor.
Scouting was me and the Hunter.
I'd piled their sleeping bags on the Girl and told the Youngest to wait here.
"So, how much do you know about dwarves?"
"I've seen moss dwarves around, but rock dwarves? Not much."
"They're as insular as Grove Fairies."
Labyrinth dwarves didn't match the bearded blacksmith stereotype exactly.
It was more split.
Yesterday's merchant was a bushy-bearded, sturdy moss dwarf.
They loved money and wandering, often seen as traders.
This village's dwarves were rock dwarves—no beards, not burly.
They looked like early-teens humans.
That was adult form.
Rock dwarves were the stoic artisan type. Probably built here for the mines.
Same "dwarf" label, but bigger differences than between fairy types.
Aquatic nomad bearded moss dwarves.
Blacksmith grade-schooler rock dwarves.
Talk about distinct flavors.
I stretched and tossed to the Hunter,
"You get this floor's conditions?"
"Not a faction war. Defensive battle?"
Faction wars happened when two races balanced out but couldn't coexist.
Fairies and dwarves weren't buddies—even politely—but not blood enemies either.
Not like fairies and orcs historically.
I nodded.
"Stormhowl Brigade's probably coming up. Tracking leaf fairies, I bet."
"Gotta check the fairy camp."
"Feels like there'd be no encounter... but nah, something always pops."
"We already know this party's cursed."
Thanks to the Girl, we'd suffered plenty.
A normal 6th floor might not even touch a proper faction.
The elf archer party was probably still hunting wild mobs somewhere in the northern snowfields.
Come to think of it, the snowfield theme itself—was that her fault?
Same tutorial server meant shared themes.
Felt bad for the other exiles.
This server's survival rate was probably trash because of the theme.
Whatever—nuisance party, reporting for duty!
The chief was older, looking barely middle-schooler by rock dwarf standards.
With age came wisdom—he knew what a Night Crow pendant meant, and if it was real.
His attitude was deferential.
"Anything you need, just say the word."
The teenish boy bowed deeply.
His creaky old-man speech clashed with his looks, but it was par for the course.
"We're just extending our usual business. Dwarves are friends of humanity, aren't they?"
True fact. Humans always had the friendliest ties with dwarves.
With Sir Dusban's pendant, my "lost Night Crow tracking a vampire" lie went down easy.
"Just buy me a keg of ale later."
"I'll prepare it. Anything else?"
"Lend me four snow leopards if you've got 'em trained."
"Oh, you ride snow leopards?"
"You see all sorts in life."
The chief sent for them right away.
The Hunter scowled at the loaned snow leopards.
"We ride these? They look like giant sea lions."
"Kinda magic beasts—think living snowmobiles that plow through drifts."
Lots to ask the fairies... and orcs.
Hunter couldn't ride, so he hopped on behind me.
Saddle was a tad small for my build, but manageable.
I grabbed the other three leashes and took off.
Hunter, baffled after ages, asked,
"Leader, be real—how many years in?"
"Spill your secrets first."
"..."
The Hunter stayed silent till we hit the fairy camp.
I didn't press. Exiles had at least twenty secrets per party member.
How could you survive that many runs without baggage?
I'd done kill-everything playstyles too.
Ones I could never confess to the Girl.
Destination in sight, I downed a potion.
'Quetzalcoatl's Blood' surged through me again.
Dope up early—for disasters, and prep for what came next.
Stopped before the camp—arrows flew.
For show, I didn't dodge. Sliced one perfectly in half, extra flashy.
Basic stat work paying off. Not just raw strength—whole-body movement felt sharp.
Even doped, moving close to past-run form felt great.
"Huh? Not dwarves? Humans? What's up?"
A cat-eared fairy girl scampered over, barely wary.
Most wanderer races crossed human lands. Humans welcomed them.
Still, her guard was lower than Grove Fairies.
How to put it? She had that bubbly energy our party's Girl had—as a racial trait.
"Orcs chasing you? Need a hand?"
"What?"
Fairies lived long. Leaf fairies wandered, stacking experience.
She eyed my gear, noted the Hunter's different race behind me.
Conclusion hit.
"Exiles, huh?"
"You get why I'm offering help?"
"Need stairs down? Fine, I'll trust you. Priestess—let's go!"
Her beaming grin was cool.
But exhaustion showed. Once Greenskins declared round two, they went full aggro on fairy numbers.
They'd cleared fairies to the northern continent tip—should leave 'em be, but no.
Other fairies emerged from spirit-hidden snow camouflage.
Hunter flinched a bit. Time to teach this guy mana control.
"Snow leopards!"
"Whoa, snow leopards!"
"Dwarves wouldn't loan us even one!"
Loud bunch. Mostly young ones chattering.
Each sported beast ears.
Leaf fairies' other names: beast fairies, beast spirits.
Unlike plant-like Grove Fairies, these were straight-up animals.
They handled snow leopards like pros, no lessons needed.
Half-beast themselves.
Handed the rolling-eyed leopards to the fairies and moved out.
Nearby, snow-melted dry ground. Salamanders coiled instead of campfires.
Perfect camp vibe—colorful tents evoked gypsies.
Motif fit.
The priestess of nature and purity's god was bundled tight, veiled despite the snow—didn't match.
"Exiles... So what exactly are you offering to help with?"
Suspicious glare. Unlike Grove Fairies, she had "doubt" in her dictionary.
No outright hostility, though—just the usual exile awkwardness.
Good— if even a priestess was just wary like this, the 2nd-floor fairy kill hadn't leaked.
Stealth kills eventually got caught via system tweaks—late corpse finds, witnesses.
Odds low this soon, but the Girl made me paranoid.
"Heard you're hunted by Stormhowl Brigade."
"Dwarves talk too much."
"No need for direct fights. Just help me a bit—I'll sweep every Greenskin."
Priestess went quiet. Sounded too good—showed her Sir Dusban's pendant.
Doubt eased. Night Crow seemed big in this continent.
"Greenskin massacre. That opens the stairs?"
"Yeah. Already got bad blood with 'em anyway."
She closed her eyes, silent. Consulting her god?
Higher priestess than expected.
If nature god knew about the 2nd-floor kill...
"Fine. We'll accept the help."
Wasn't watching, huh. Not like the chaos goddess—busy deity.
"Woo! This is thrilling!"
"Totally different from riding leopards or tigers!"
"Headwind's freezing!"
Sheesh, noisy. Hunter sulked behind me as four snow leopards bolted from camp.
"But seriously, where we headed?"
Cat-ears, our first greeter, asked.
"To win without fighting."
Find the orc outpost before dope wears off, prep everything. Then fetch Girl and Youngest for the show.
Even floors so far: mostly suffering, not much loot.
But quality was top-tier.
Life's creature comforts ticked up bit by bit.
Human average base stats: 10.
Me getting 15 Intelligence meant top-tier mage class multiplier for humanity.
Useless in a magic-less world.
"You... I see what you're planning, you rascal. Confident you can cast properly?"
'Chaos, you caught on. Yeah, I'll use one authority later. Still got that sacrifice from before, right?'
"Sacrifice all surviving orcs in return."
'Of course.'
Intelligence wasn't maxed, but mythic beast 'blood dope' plus one goddess authority made a one-shot nuke.
Past runs, I was near-pure mage class.
Mages sucked early.
If you could scrape minimal stats temporarily...
Now for magic time.