Chapter 70
Chapter 70
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 70
Chapter Title: Catch That Bastard (8)
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In an instant, my vision flipped upside down.
The ground was damp. Instead of the stone tiles that had surrounded the entire 2nd floor, I felt the squishy touch of soaked earth.
Reflexively trying to scan the surroundings with Perception, a splitting headache hit me, and all strength drained from my body.
I hurriedly closed my eyes and shut off Perception.
Splat—
I nearly collapsed flat on the floor, but instead landed on something damp and squishy like a bed.
What the hell is this? It's transparent, but the damp, squishy sensation feels strangely unfamiliar.
I wonder if lying on a bed-sized pudding would feel like this.
"You okay?"
"Ah, yes... I'm fine."
Aldente had transformed his slime arm into a bed-like shape.
It was incredibly fascinating. Could he freely reshape his body like that?
Ain. Those who were once human but received a curse turning them into monsters.
Compared to beastkin or humans, their numbers were far fewer, so I didn't know much about them either.
I'd heard some carried their curses by force because they couldn't afford to lift them, while others embraced the life of an Ain for their own reasons.
This slime Ain, Aldente, seemed to be the latter. +10 Stamina was no small boon for a tank.
I thanked him as I watched his arm revert from bed form to its original shape, then stood still to assess my own condition.
'Did I push too hard?'
Even before, I'd felt a slight headache when concentrating in crises, but never to the point of collapsing from exhaustion.
'Probably mana depletion.'
This time, I'd used the newfound power without gauging its limits.
Plus maxing out Perception on top of that—my body just couldn't hold up in that moment.
"Balkan. That axe... don't tell me it's an artifact?"
"Ah, yeah. Just picked one up."
"Mana exhaustion, then. Enlarging an axe that size bigger than a streetlamp? That's the natural price. Honestly, the fact it didn't shatter after that reckless stunt is more surprising. Must be top-quality."
Ramel, the wizard, diagnosed my symptoms as mana exhaustion.
Hearing it came with anemia-like effects, sudden dizziness, stamina drain, and such, I resolved to avoid overdoing gigantification like before.
"Time's the only cure for mana exhaustion. Rest up. You did great."
"Right, Balkan. Thanks to your heroics, the outlaws dropped to the 8th floor with us. Bought us a ton of time."
After a few meals together since opening up a bit, Ramel and Juwel—slightly sweeter now—looked after me.
And right then, white light particles sprinkled down from above. A priest's miracle.
"I've cast a miracle to speed your recovery. Your mana exhaustion should clear up soon."
I even got a one-shot miracle from Hitollis.
Feeling the hollow sensation in my body gradually recover, I started to catch my breath—then spotted someone in worse shape than me.
"Fuuuck... fuuuck... pussy! Gimme pussy!"
"Guh..."
I desperately stifled a laugh.
"Gellen! Gellen! Snap out of it!"
"Kuh...! For Gellen to end up like this...! ...Gulp."
Gellen's party's priest and wizard rolled on the ground, shaking their hips at the passed-out Gellen, faces full of anguish.
Direct hit from the shaman hobgoblin's staff blasting Male Corruption Retard Beam...
Well, technically I took it first and Seriph's miracle bounced it back onto him, but no one here caught that split-second moment. Things were too chaotic.
Anyway.
In the end, Gellen turned into a total retard.
He was always a bit of one, but now he was an irredeemable, purebred idiot.
"..."
Aldente said nothing, but his expression looked pretty bitter.
In a mere 10-second fight, a comrade who'd been fine until then became a vegetable—no helping that.
'That pink light from the shaman hobgoblin's staff was a magical implementation of monster Male Corruption Pheromones, huh.'
High-rank explorers or low-rank alike.
Once hooked by a monster and exposed to Male Corruption Pheromones, you just become a monster's living flesh dildo.
'No man's overcome Male Corruption Pheromones yet.'
Research was ongoing to cure them, but nothing effective so far.
Gellen's odds of returning to normal were practically zero.
"Stuff him in the bag and let's go."
He wasn't dead, just a fuck-happy retard, so humanitarian considerations led us to cram him into luggage for safekeeping.
If it were a scum party lacking basic decency or a reformist explorer group, he'd get skull-fucked, used as bait and discarded, or turned into a limbless living dildo.
From Gellen's perspective, he got lucky.
We shoved his body into the lightweight magic backpack he carried.
It fit somehow, but his head stuck out awkwardly.
"Grrr rumble! This guy's fucking heavy!"
"Lightweight magic halves the weight—don't overreact."
Gregor, stuck carrying an extra bag unexpectedly, screamed, but what could we do? Porters haul loads.
That settled Gellen. Now, eyes elsewhere.
"8th floor... central section. Lucky break. Straight shot gets us to the far end by morning."
Joey Hogg, healing wounds with recovery potions, checked the map for our position and situation.
"Outlaw markers are in the western outskirts. Fewer monsters, but rough, tangled paths."
"Gourmimi. That guy's moves screamed seasoned explorer. Probably knows the routes well?"
"Can't be sure, but... standing bold by the 8th-floor transfer trap? Can't rule it out. To beat them to the end, we gotta hustle."
On the 2nd floor, it'd be a mutual chase, but dropped to the 8th? Just seize the portal at the far end first.
No matter Gourmimi's skills, just two of them.
"Not on 2nd floor maybe, but holding the 8th long-term? Impossible. To survive, they'll head for the end with the upper-floor portal."
"Reach the end first, set an ambush, nab 'em when they show. Right?"
"Yep. Sharp as ever, Balkan. Common sense a bit off, but your head works fine for this."
The side jab irked me, but it wasn't wrong, so I just nodded.
Gellen retired, but formation stayed the same.
Party DPS dipped a tad, but Gellen's trio remained solid.
This lineup could handle the 8th floor without too much trouble.
We pressed on into the 8th floor.
The Labyrinth's difficulty spikes every 4 floors.
Like goblins mindlessly charging any man on 1st evolving into thinking, evolved hobgoblins by 4th and up.
8th floor brings monsters superior in every way to prior layers.
"Still, that rapid growth is disorienting."
"Prrrrrr!!"
A massive fireball began forming in the shaman minotaur's grasp.
Like gathering a Spirit Bomb, it raised both arms skyward, swelling the fireball's size.
In sync, four combatant minotaurs guarding the shaman charged, snorting steam.
Thud!
Joey Hogg bashed one back with his shield. Aldente stretched his slime arms long to snare two more.
"One slipped through!"
One minotaur broke past the front tanks, lunging at me with a fist.
Priests and wizards right behind—no dodging. I swung my axe to meet its incoming punch.
Schling!
The axe sliced clean, severing not just middle and index fingers but neatly quartering the forearm.
"Prrrrr!!"
Ignoring the pain, it swung its other fist in counterattack.
But what now? I'm dual-wielding.
Crack!!
"Pruk!"
The other arm split the same way; the minotaur let out a short cry.
The axe climbed its arm to its head, soon decapitating it.
"Prrrrr!!"
Then the shaman minotaur finished its Spirit Bomb fireball and bellowed. The size was ominous.
"Ramel! Pusillini! Ready?!"
"Yeah. Chant just wrapped."
Perfectly timed, Ramel and Gellen's party's wizard Pusillini countered.
Two wizards' fireballs clashed midair with the shaman's massive one.
A massive explosion erupted, unleashing scorching winds.
"Prrrrk!"
I ducked my head slightly, crossing axes to block the heat.
Lifting my gaze, a minotaur rode the blast winds, launching at me in a hug-me pose.
Couldn't just embrace it—those arms would crush me.
I sheathed Edelbert's gift axe at my waist, gripped Zirnier Besil's Double-Edged Axe two-handed, and swung.
Like a lumberjack splitting logs, straightforward stance.
Timing a touch early. Two seconds till it reached me. That gap remained.
Swinging now would whiff.
The minotaur seemed to notice, lips curling in a smirk. Face of one spotting perfect opening.
'But what if I close that gap?'
Mana control on point, grip about one-hand sword length. Axe head a bit larger.
"Gigantify."
The axe, arcing from above, suddenly grew enormous mid-swing.
Blade's impact point nailed the minotaur's skull dead-on.
Splaaat!!!
Exploiting the slightest complacency.
Ignoring the minotaur's skull-smashing death—still wearing that superior look—I joined the tanks holding the others.
Post-priest miracles, it was over in seconds.
The fight ended with my sharp axe blade crushing the shaman minotaur's head.
No casualties, but trickier than expected.
"Mid-rank promotion party's no joke."
"...Eh, nothing special for us. You guys were impressive. Hard to believe you're mainly 7th-floor explorers."
"Exactly. Gellen'd occasionally let a monster slip, nearly breaching the rear—but your party? Flawless."
Aldente the tank and Pusillini the wizard from Gellen's party—pasta duo?—shook their heads at my words.
Skilled yet humble. Rare for explorers, low self-assertion. Gaslit by Gellen or what?
Priest Hof was average too.
If Joey Hogg's party alone on 8th, wouldn't have ended this clean.
"Nah. If I wasn't babysitting priests and wizards, I'd have sliced 'em with sword aura—zap! Slash! Done ages ago."
"Juwel, quit bluffing. You're not that good."
"Heh-hey. Joey Hogg, always like that? Admit it already~"
"That's why swapping with Balkan nearly let a monster through the rear."
"Ahem. Well, as a swordsman I'm softer than warrior Balkan so..."
"Woman weaker than man a brag?"
"...Ngh! Suddenly my milk..."
Juwel habitually boasted but crumbled under Joey Hogg's retort, fleeing while lactating.
Regardless, post-Gellen's retard-ification, chats between his party and ours increased.
"Still, different from the 8th floor we ran before."
"Offsetting that fireball without using pre-stocked ones would've been dicey. Even shaman minotaurs don't usually make that big a one..."
The two wizards discussed the shaman minotaur's growth.
"You felt it too, Miss Hitollis? That creepy thing."
"Yes, in the shaman minotaur's shadow..."
Priests talked about the hazy [Darkness] lurking in the shaman minotaur's shadow.
'Monsters infused with Darkness get stronger than before, huh?'
"Temple survey team's on it now—solid intel soon. Focus on our job for now."
Intriguing personally, but no time to dawdle.
Short rest beat the fatigue; we pushed deeper into the 8th floor.
Eleven nonstop hours of marching, nine battles.
Two shimmering portals appeared in the distance.
But party faces weren't bright.
"...All hands, battle ready."
"What battle? You fuckers."
Familiar faces stood right before the portals.
No need for tracking map.
Rabbit-headed Suin outlaw Gourmimi, and Rayhem-named but Talian-called wizard.
They'd beaten our party to the 8th floor's end.
Even standing bold as brass to greet us.
That ominous vibe had Joey Hogg and Juwel gripping shield and sword tight. Juwel swapped with Aldente.
"Why not cross the portal and flee?"
Gourmimi grinned at Joey Hogg's question, answering amiably.
"Thought about it, but kept replaying how that bastard screwed us."
Gourmimi lightly scratched his nape with his straight sword, then thrust it pointing at Balkan.
Sword tip swept from his forehead to toes. Red rabbit eyes followed.
Gulp. Sound of swallowing before tasty prey.
A gaze Balkan was used to now. Intense lust and hostility mixed.
"Kill the rest, but you? I'll slave you for life."
"Talky bitch."
"...What?"
Balkan scratched his nape casually with his axe hand, twirling the other axe lazily.
"Fodder always yaps. Real threats shut up and charge."
"..."
Grrrrrind!
Gourmimi clamped his mouth—accepting? Fuming?—and gripped his sword hilt crushingly, assuming en garde.
Forehead veins bulging, face pure rage.
Fierce killing intent poured out, filling the 8th floor's end.
Party members hardened, prepping miracles and spells.
Frontline Joey Hogg and Juwel gripped weapons tight.
Balkan eyed them, mildly impressed.
'Illusion magic, huh. Quality's insane.'
All these seasoned low-tier explorers bought it hook, line, sinker.
Gourmimi's status popped, but oddly Rayhem's did.
'Illusion magic smokescreen.'
The nearby Rayhem showed no status—pure illusion.
Explains the crude, silent act. Basing illusions on real people sharpens detail.
Balkan averted his eyes from the "Gourmimi" illusion glaring murderously, acting Rayhem.
Then abruptly glared at the right wall.
Plain Labyrinth wall, status floating alone.
"You. There, huh?"
Twitch.
As I spoke axe in hand, the illusion shook unstably, pierced dead-center.
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