Chapter 72
Chapter 72
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 72
Chapter Title: Getting Out Alive
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The Labyrinth investigators dispatched from the temple gaped blankly at the unfamiliar sight.
The stench of blood assaulting their noses.
Bloodstains splattered across the labyrinth's walls and floor.
A rabbit beastkin collapsed in a froth-mouthed faint, eyes rolled back and glowing red.
A man who had been brazenly sitting on the beastkin like a thug rose to his feet, twin axes dripping with blood in his hands.
It was a chilling scene, like the aftermath of a mindless slaughter.
"...Hoo."
His short sigh sent chills down the spines of the paladins.
These were elite forces even within the temple.
They could tell at a glance that the man before them was weaker than themselves.
But for some reason.
All a dozen or so paladins shared the same thought.
If we fought now, there'd be serious bloodshed.
The sheer presence emanating from the man before them was unnerving enough to plant such thoughts in the paladins' minds.
Clank.
As one intimidated paladin reached for his sword, Nate Elin threw out her right arm to stop the paladins.
She turned to the man and spoke.
"First things first. I'd like to know what happened here."
I explained the sequence of events to Nate Elin.
"...So."
She listened with a calm expression, then sighed and pinched her forehead.
"You entered the labyrinth to catch outlaws, but that outlaw triggered a transfer trap from the 2nd floor to the 8th, ambushing your party. You chased them down in combat and ended up falling to the 7th floor by chance, where you ran into us?"
"Yes."
"You expect me to believe that?"
It was the reaction I'd half-expected.
Honestly, I wouldn't believe it either if I were in Nate Elin's shoes.
People said transfer traps were rare, yet I'd gotten tangled in them far too often for comfort.
But believe it or not, I'd told her exactly what happened.
"It's true. Take a look at this."
I pulled out the wanted posters for Gurumimi and Rayhem and showed them to Nate Elin.
"Gasp, that guy's...!"
A male priest who had been peeking at my conversation with Nate Elin startled as if recalling something upon seeing Gurumimi's poster.
Nate Elin glanced at him and asked.
"What? You know her?"
"Y-yes. She's a notorious slave hunter and virginity hunter. Half the men raped near the outlaw zone were her victims."
The surrounding paladins stirred at his words.
"V-virginity hunter?"
"That fucking bitch!!"
"Daring to do what even we haven't... Ahem. To defy the teachings of the Goddess of Chastity!"
"Jealous... Not jealous! To commit such filth as easily as breathing! A v-virginity hunter!!! That insolent wench!! We'll never forgive her!"
A band of virgins forcibly webbed below by the Goddess of Chastity's teachings.
The paladins glared at Gurumimi with bloodshot eyes.
Nate Elin's expression wasn't pleasant either.
She alternated between the rabbit-headed figure on the poster and Gurumimi pinned beneath me, then nodded.
"The guard's seal on the wanted posters confirms it's an official outlaw capture request."
"So you believe me?"
"Yes."
Nate Elin folded the posters and handed them back.
"If you fell to the 7th floor alone, your other party members are still on the 8th?"
"Yes. But the fight was nearly over, so they'll probably come down soon. At latest, a day or two."
Though I said a day or two, surviving solo in the labyrinth wasn't easy.
I was new to the 7th floor, clueless about safe rest spots or low-monster zones.
On top of that, I had to handle meals, rest, combat—all alone.
Plus monitoring an outlaw who might wake and cause trouble anytime.
Fine on the 1st floor with just goblins.
But on the 7th, crawling with traps and minotaur-class monsters, no junior explorer could manage all that solo.
What could I do?
Regrets were pointless; the past couldn't change. Grit teeth and push through.
"...Hoo."
Nate Elin glanced at me, sighed suddenly, and looked back at her paladins.
"We're resting here today."
"Pardon?"
I blurted out blankly at the abrupt declaration, drowned by the paladins' cheers.
"Rest! Finally, rest!"
"Set up camp! Food first!"
"Quiet down! You'll draw monsters!"
"We've already beaten everything nearby anyway~ No problem."
"Hope the ones on the 5th are okay?"
"Don't worry. They're elites. They won't fall to the 5th floor."
"True enough."
Thrilled for a rare break, they chattered excitedly, swiftly laying out spots and lighting fires.
Clank.
Nate Elin dropped her pack and plopped down on it, gesturing vaguely at me.
"Don't go die somewhere. Grab a spot. One extra won't matter."
It meant she'd treat me as an ally during the rest.
No outlaw or reformed explorer would draw steel on temple paladins, so safety was guaranteed.
'Come to think of it, she told me not to die. Serif was worried.'
Probably why she was letting me join.
"Thank you."
I bowed at the rare kindness. Nate Elin turned away, waving dismissively again.
"If you're that grateful, put in a good word with Lady Serif."
Was this woman's head full of nothing but Serif?
"Yes. I'll speak very highly of you."
"...Good enough."
Whatever. It was straightforward, which suited me fine.
"You. Picked the wrong person to mess with."
I heard teeth grinding somewhere, and Gurumimi glared up at me venomously from under me.
Her voice and expression were vicious, but I felt no real threat.
I'd stanched her thigh wound since I couldn't kill her, but sliced her limb muscles precisely to prevent thrashing.
'Thanks to Edelbert's training and massages, I learned exactly where to cut to sap the strength from a body.'
Putting that knowledge to full use, Gurumimi could only yap—her fingers wouldn't twitch.
"Yeah, why'd you go messing with people, you bastard."
Thwack!
"Kahak!"
I smashed my fist into the crown of the wretch struggling to look up, cheek ground against the floor.
"You fuck! Me! An executive of the great Blaz Clan! Pinned helpless under some random guy...!"
Unable to counter or fight back, Gurumimi realized her plight again and stopped threatening, lamenting her fate instead.
"Hey. Just one question."
"Hah. No matter what you ask, I ain't—"
I shoved a time-tested communication tool under her nose, and she shut up.
Her red rabbit eyes stared up at the axe blade resting on her nose bridge.
"...Fine. What do you want to know?"
Axes truly were excellent conversation starters. They could make even irredeemable trash crave dialogue.
"You know a woman called Kakchi... no, Densi? Comes up to my solar plexus. Dresses like a total slut. Probably your clan's slave?"
"Slave? ...Oh, right. I think I heard Vesta got a slave by that name for her pet mage underling..."
"Seen her around the outlaw zone lately?"
"No clue. Never cared about female slaves."
Consistent bastard. His eyes said he truly didn't know or care.
'Hoped a clanmate might know something despite rank difference. Strikeout.'
Search for Kakchi failed.
Her motive was clear enough—use hobgoblin staff to break men and enslave them. One mystery left.
"Talian. Or should I say Rayhem? What the hell is that bitch?"
The mage with unusual illusion magic. Holder of the hobgoblin staff.
Status window said Rayhem.
But Gurumimi called him Talian throughout.
Hiding his name? Who knows.
"...Damn. You caught that too? Might as well not have used a fake name."
Gurumimi sighed deeply and hung her head in resignation.
Soon, the truth spilled from her mouth.
Rayhem betrayed his advisor professor.
The reason was absurd.
Professor Arpo had postponed his graduation for 10 years.
'Crazy fuck. Thinks I'm his personal research slave or something.'
His hair thinned daily. Female pattern baldness.
Tears streamed. He lived in rage. But even that had limits.
"M-my son got turned into a vegetable by a monster while exploring! Turns out the hobgoblin staff infuses male-corrupting pheromones via magic. Dissecting it might save him!"
Amid hellish slave research life, a golden chance arrived.
Treated like a slave for 10 years, he'd earned trust—Professor Arpo spilled his weakness freely.
Assistant Rayhem arranged the commission as asked and secured the hobgoblin staff.
En route to the professor with staff in hand, inside the carriage, Rayhem pondered deeply.
'If I deliver this, the professor lives happily ever after with his miraculously recovered son?'
The thought boiled massive hatred inside.
'Ruined my life, but he gets a happy ending?'
A lawless faction had approached recently.
Blaz Clan's Vesta, coveting his illusions, even visited his home to recruit.
Vesta offered massive cash and countless male slaves as incentives.
Far better than rotting under Professor Arpo.
Bam!
Rayhem used illusion magic to lure the coachman into an alley, smashing the carriage against a wall.
No longer research slave Rayhem.
Blaz Clan's illusion mage and outlaw.
The criminal Talian, forged in hatred for his professor, was born.
Balkan stared at Rayhem, stuffed in a backpack of the approaching Joy Hog party, and sighed deeply.
"Grad students really are dangerous."