Chapter 89
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 89
Chapter Title: Floor 9 - Not-Quite-Weak Lv. 79 Foes (6)
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The greatest mistake one can make in the Labyrinth is complacency.
In that sense, the ones preparing their ambush could be called commendable in their own right.
No one's letting their guard down. They're preparing meticulously, assuming the named vampire Barbaroa might show up.
From what I know, Barbaroa isn't anywhere near as adept at wielding blood authority as I am.
It's somewhat akin to shamanism, so those with experience as shamans can handle it more freely.
I've never seen Barbaroa with that kind of backstory.
Of course, most Exiles don't know that.
And even if they guess it from experience, they can't be certain.
They'd have their doubts about whether Barbaroa could wield authority at this level.
So, they're preparing for the strongest enemy they remember with similar traits.
The right attitude.
Still, how did they spot us?
Guess my blood manipulation got exposed somehow. I thought I hadn't left any traces.
They must have scouts posted steadily. I'm upwardly revising my estimate of the enemy's capabilities.
The various traps set around us, and the fact they know this method at all, lets me guess their tenure.
This is raid tactics. They must have experience participating in Strategy teams tackling the [Main Dungeon].
And it's not just one or two. No single pair could orchestrate preparations on this scale.
Most greenhorns get drunk on their own strength to some degree.
Thanks to veteran gods leading them, farming and leveling go smoothly. They hit lucky breaks too.
But would we really lose?
They might think so rationally, but their hearts burn hot.
Humans start doubting their gods at that point.
The moment they think they've gotten strong enough, arrogance sets in.
The Girl was like that, but the Hunter and the youngest had weird goals from the start, so no worries there.
When tenure gaps widen too much, parties crumble like this all the time. One sage can't wrangle a horde of fools.
They won't dare outright defy, but cracks form in the trust bit by bit.
That's why pseudo-religious parties pop up now and then.
No worries about betrayal that way. Not just anyone can pull it off, though.
Still, this reveals a lot of intel.
Enemy numbers, enemy caliber, enemy gear status.
Can't know their held skills, but that's par for the course.
[Skills] are the most unfair thing in the Labyrinth, and accounting for them is borderline impossible. Pure improvisation territory.
I gathered the party members. Even the temporary hangers-on who aren't full party.
"Just so we're clear, I'll be sitting this one out again. Same conditions. Don't kill if you can help it."
One of the little mage's temp party-mates timidly raises a hand.
"Um... senior, can we really hold off the outlaws who've taken over this place with just our numbers here?"
Even his word choice screams green. Calling these guys "outlaws" is too much.
This is a free PK floor, and weren't you lot gunning for us first?
But they were probably trembling in terror while fleeing, so let's cut 'em slack.
Honestly, if you're that mentally cornered, just dying peacefully and respawning on Floor 1 is a solid option.
But some can't swallow death that easily.
"We can. Truth is, I could do it solo. But me getting strong alone doesn't help anyone."
More precisely, I need to feed the Girl real combat EXP. Not Mind Map EXP—actual battle experience.
One-vs-many EXP if possible.
"Anyway, we hold here, right? I'll handle most of it, you just pitch in a little."
They can't properly gauge the situation anyway, so they'll follow.
Interception goes to my actual party members.
The little mage's temps are, frankly, dead weight. If they were useful, they'd have been scouted already.
Once farming's underway, lots of parties bulk up their numbers.
Survivors from clashing parties team up plenty. Betrayals spike too, naturally.
Once you've looted enough, you need meat shields to die in your place. That's why melee warriors get whittled down, and we're nearing the end of that phase.
The little mage...
"C-Can I just stick with you, senior?"
She says it with anxious eyes.
Truth is, temps aren't trustworthy by definition.
She can't voice it, but she's fretting over the elf archer big-time.
Parties vary wildly; some get that family vibe.
"I'll be babysitting all of you anyway. While our party takes the enemy leader's head, someone has to guard the house."
Took two hours to whip it up, and rebuilding sucks.
They'll probably try fire attacks and every dirty trick, but with all those blood pouches stored inside, we gotta hold.
Can't leave these panicked Exiles unsupervised—who knows what they'd do.
I lay out the battle plan. Enemy prep is thorough. But they won't assume we don't know about their groundwork.
Normally, it'd be time for ambushes and disruptions, but no need now.
Schemes are for the weak to defend themselves.
Right now, against humans, I'm an undying vampire who never loses.
Worship! The Lord of Blood has arrived.
The Hunter scowled.
His party leader didn't want this to go down easy.
Time for some Exile-vs-Exile combat worth experiencing, she said.
The Hunter cocked his head.
"Be honest, twelfth-year vet that you are. How many mid-tier or higher skills you got?"
The Hunter had to think. Basic skills just tweak everyday actions a bit.
Unrealistic ones like [Blink Dagger] aren't common early on.
Besides, the Hunter might excel at simple shooting or melee, but mana talent? Zilch.
He remembered the leader's bitter words: wrong talent for archery.
Bows need magic tie-ins to compensate for weak firepower, or something.
"That's why I've never snagged a mid... no, even mid-tier skill."
No mana talent to grind, and he didn't even know to invest in INT.
Whatever, Mind Maps stack buffs till they show results.
"Still, your technical skills probably impressed everyone."
Foraging rations or crafting small tools always got good reviews, he figured.
"Sure, those are assets, but in the Labyrinth, power first. Magic's crucial since it's nonexistent Outside."
"Magic's everywhere these days. Sick of it."
This run had more mages than any other, it felt like.
Magic was alien back then, and finding an Exile who could wield it practically? Rare.
The mages the Hunter had seen topped out at little-mage level.
"That angel was a 50-year Exile too. This run's crawling with vets. Mass suicide pact or what?"
He'd heard tales of kingdoms falling simultaneously in other runs, but no clue what that meant.
Anyway, the Hunter was stuck leading the party sans leader, facing dozens of incoming Exiles.
"This gonna work?"
"It will. If it gets dicey, I'll bail you out."
Her supreme confidence was oddly reassuring. The leader always turned impossible into possible.
From the Hunter's view, every floor so far had been overwhelming peril.
Any one would've killed him normally.
The Hunter decided to believe he was alive right now.
The leader would guide him to the Temple of Time for sure.
This sketchy setup was necessary. Confirmed Temple of Time meant no dying and ejecting to next run.
Truth is, Hunter and the kid don't need to grind hard. They're the type to go their own way eventually.
The old man's just combat-hungry beyond all reason.
What matters is what experience the Girl racks up against masses she can't beat with personal skill alone.
Combat's like that. Solo vs. group differs, and few foes vs. many does too.
Dawn broke. Few slept soundly overnight—probably just my party.
But I wake 'em mercilessly at first light.
Everyone's roles are set.
Enemy won't want vampire fights at night, so they'll wait for full daylight.
"Go! Bite 'em dead!"
The Girl barks back energetically.
"Grrr, woof woof!"
The old man roars too.
"Uoooooooh!"
Not life-or-death, just training-via-combat, but no reason to cede first strike.
They figured we'd gotten made, so they prepped for encirclement and annihilation.
Probably thought we might slip away under night cover.
No desire for nightly vampire skirmishes.
Dozens of bats take to the sky.
The Girl sprinted at full tilt. No nitpicky orders from Uncle this time.
The goddess was keeping mum, just watching.
She won't actually die, but still, you never know.
Healing Potion already in her mouth, of course.
One more belted at her waist.
Now she got the per-person one-bottle limit.
Captured Exiles all had sloshing potions on them.
Considering the absurd healing, multiples per person makes no sense.
No blizzard this time.
Deep winter, though—sky's overcast. Few rays pierce thick clouds to the ground.
Barely dawn anyway.
Warnings noted.
Watch for hidden ground magic circles. Fairy-priest robe has magic resistance, but not enough to shrug off real traps.
Circles were familiar types.
Uncle's prep for [Meteor Swarm].
Circles drawn in shaman blood.
Not as huge or mana-intensive as back then, though.
Forest anyway. Visibility limited, underfoot obscured.
Girl climbs a tree. Kicks off trunks side-to-side, reaches near the top.
Then near-flight.
Dash
Propels user forward at high speed / Cooldown applies
With [Dash], she flies along. Just touches treetops occasionally.
Tiny shadow streaking through dim sky—hard to spot.
Traps mostly don't account for aerial assaults like this.
We're outnumbered, so guerrilla tactics. Uncle would approve.
Spots a few parties lying in wait for attack orders. Not her targets.
She's the assassin. Assassin's job: take the head's head.
Find a more leader-looking foe.
Some enemies catch her silhouette.
Can't fully fool eyes of Exiles who've survived to Floor 9 in this brutal run.
Too bad [Stealth] didn't pop.
Asked why; Uncle cackled about too many head-on fights as a noob.
Can't get it outside early game, and late-game it's pointless anyway.
No need once you're a balanced powerhouse.
No witnesses? It's an assassination.
Spots a plausible mark.
Fairy woman and her orbiting humans.
Unlike huddled parties in the cold, they've set up a proper camp far from the cabin, up all night.
No fire, but faint heat radiates. Enchanted gear?
Grinded hard on skill-counter training.
But that was skill-less counters to skills first.
Girl's high-leveled. Whole party's above average.
Though Floor 9's level-passing means higher-leveled Exiles exist.
Still, they'd flexed solid combat power using only basics—skills buffing normal moves.
Uncle praised it, reset her Mind Map for the first time in ages.
Honestly, she'd neglected it.
Saved points for a rainy day, no investments.
More like, personal power couldn't handle back-to-back crises.
Floor 10 changes everything, he said. Nonstop gauntlet, no breather—details unknown.
Last night, she dumped all points. Knows what's coming, no need to hoard.
Luck-based core, so missed some targeted skills.
Half-hits, though.
Final check. Final exam.
Yesterday, loss was fine. Today, win or bust, Uncle said.
Spots target from treetop. Glances around—bats circling nearby.
Uncle's watching.
Girl beams, triggers skills.
Impact Enhancement
Amplifies shockwave on landing / Area effect
Hero Landing
Fall from height ≥ [threshold] / Generates shockwave
This [Hero Landing] is a hilarious skill.
True to a Labyrinth buff with no context, it has a pointless condition.
Fall from sufficient height.
Uncle shook his head at "too hard?":
[Can't say, but it'll be fine.]
Future info tie-in?
Daggers now dual-wield practice lately.
Penalty for stealth, but offsets short reach in direct clashes.
Boom!
Snow swirls up. Trees shake.
Hidden birds burst into flight.
Girl marveled at her shockwave.
No one nearby stays standing.
First target: fairy woman, looks like party leader.
Outfit screams archer? Assassin? Agile type at least.
No worries about full-on mage spells like the fairy mage showed.
Dash
Closes gap despite knockdowns / Maintains momentum
Even amid falls, she raises sword to block.
Outmatched in strength, yet Girl's impact disperses somewhere.
Mana control pro.
Girl sensed this wouldn't be easy.