Invitation from the Depths
The southern region of the Western Continent had been plunged into endless large and small wars ever since the vampire prince Eltis Masquerade assassinated the direct line of the Neos royal family. With the royal house that should have controlled the situation now crumbling into virtual anarchy, powerful local lords didn't hesitate to wage territorial wars, while the royal collaterals and great nobles fought to seize the throne for themselves.
In the midst of that chaos, the person who caught my eye was a serf boy conscripted into one of those territorial skirmishes. After participating in a single siege battle, the boy took one look at the trebuchet and started pondering something. He began sketching ideas on wooden planks or the dirt floor, and that's when it entered the field of view of one of my clones.
The boy was drawing an improved version of the trebuchet. Sure, in a world crawling with knights and mages, someone might scoff at what use a trebuchet could possibly have. But it was still a highly effective weapon against city walls in battles between provincial nobles. Of course, I wasn't after the improved trebuchet itself—I saw the talent behind it and wanted to recruit him. Left as he was, a mere conscripted serf would just die a meaningless death in the heart of some battlefield.
The dwarves were working on airships, and though I had no idea how long it would take, I figured if I brought him there, he might pick up some of their techniques just by watching over their shoulders.
But after the battle ended, as I confirmed the boy heading back to his camp and initiated spatial transfer, disaster struck in that brief interval before I arrived. When I got there, the boy was dead, his head smashed open. The culprit was another serf conscript from the same barracks. His skull had burst on impact, killing him instantly—there was nothing I could do.
"Tch."
I appeared out of nowhere and clicked my tongue as I looked down at the boy's corpse. The killer and the other soldiers in the barracks shrank back, bowing their heads. Dressed like nobility and looking every bit the mage, it was no wonder. They probably thought I was there to punish them.
The reason for the boy's death was pathetically trivial. The conscript had just returned from a brutal fight, nerves on edge, and when the boy approached from behind, he reflexively swung his spear. It caught the boy right in the head.
There are countless people in this world who die without ever realizing their potential, wasting their lives on meaningless drudgery. This boy was just one of them. And luck had come knocking about five seconds too late.
I turned away with heavy steps. On the way back, I stopped by Lake Krapia and caught a ton of fish. Bastet was going to love this.
Time is one of those things you can't hold onto, no matter what. At least, that's the conventional wisdom. Having personally witnessed the reversal of an entire continent's timeline, I knew time was profoundly relative. Someone's time might seem frozen in place, while another's raced ahead at breakneck speed.
Lately, my own time felt a bit stalled. No progress. I was diligently recording every day without fail, but the pace of inscription couldn't keep up with the flood of incoming information. I was searching for ways to fix that, but answers weren't coming easily.
Everything else had ground to a halt too. I was bored. I'd wanted a leisurely, peaceful life, but after a few months of it, this ennui set in. The world's fickleness lies in the human heart—I clearly hadn't shed my mortal shell yet.
Look at that cat dozing by the window. Even if she spent centuries just lounging without a care, she'd never feel bored. A true goddess.
And right on cue, an event arrived to alleviate my boredom. In the central region of the Eastern Continent—precisely on a mountain straddling the border between the Yujin Empire and the Baikal Kingdom—landslides revealed what looked like a dungeon entrance.
Dungeons popping up wasn't all that surprising. They weren't commonplace, but new ones were constantly being created and discovered. This one, however, was anything but ordinary.
The moment I heard the news, I dispatched a nearby clone to scout inside. But I hit a snag. The clone couldn't enter the dungeon, as if blocked by some invisible barrier. Not just the entrance—even tunneling through the mountain from the side, it got repelled beyond a certain point.
No one could easily get into the dungeon. Straddling the border between the two nations, they immediately started squabbling over ownership. Dungeons were dangerous, yes, but they often yielded vast treasures.
After lengthy negotiations, they struck a deal: the Yujin Empire would take 70% of the proceeds, Baikal Kingdom 30%. A joint investigation team was formed and entered the dungeon.
The team was impressively equipped—over a hundred strong. No Master-level warriors or archmages, but more than enough to clear a typical dungeon.
Yet the confident explorers never returned. A month later, assuming the first team had been wiped out or trapped, both nations sent a second team of similar size. They vanished too after another month.
At that point, the nations lifted restrictions on dungeon entry—a common tactic for overly difficult dungeons. Lure in the gold-hungry adventurers and mercenaries.
Even knowing the mortal peril, thrill-seekers and fame-hunters flocked there. Moths to a flame—that's humanity for you.
The instant my clones were barred, I thought, 'Isn't this a bit too obvious a trap?'
Maybe it was made targeting me. There hadn't been a dungeon there originally—at least not three years ago. I remembered a clone passing through that mountain. For one to appear suddenly, and conveniently exposed by a landslide? Even if it wasn't aimed at me, it screamed trap.
I'm not idiot enough to walk into such an blatant one on purpose. Whatever happened if I ignored it, Juno would handle anything serious, right?
But I had a hunch. Every effect has a cause, and nearly everything in this world is connected. If it was a trap for me, I'd have to enter eventually to end it.
So, preparing for the possibility, I picked up my sword again after setting it aside for a while.
The one who rejoiced most at my resuming sword training was Howard. He seemed thrilled at the chance to legally torment me, but I shattered his expectations. Just days after picking it up again, I reached Master level—practicing alone with Jayke on the New Continent.
Hitting Master was great, though it felt a tad late. With my swordsmanship elevated, I focused on boosting overall combat power.
I'm far stronger and more efficient with magic, spirit arts, and divine authorities than pure swordplay. The authority of disease is borderline cheating, it's so overpowering. So I honed ways to fight without relying on authorities.
Theory-wise, I was already solid. Now it was about engraving it into my body. Rather than sparring with Jayke, I shuttled between the Great Forest and Dragon Mountains, practicing on magical beasts.
Thanks to the rare game I brought back each time, Akasha Territory unexpectedly became a hotspot for merchants seeking exotic monsters.
While I was spending my time that way, surprisingly, the adventurers and mercenaries who'd entered the dungeon started returning. Around the same time, the first and second investigation teams emerged too.
Of course, their numbers had dwindled sharply from when they went in. The survivors reported that the mercenaries and adventurers had explored only the entrance and turned back—new magical beasts appeared, but nothing overwhelmingly threatening.
The investigation teams, larger and packed with elites, had delved deeper. The farther in, the stronger the beasts and traps. All agreed the dungeon was vast beyond imagining.
The first team, who'd spent nearly three months inside, said they'd marched nonstop for over a month without reaching an end. But how could such a space exist, even underground?
I began suspecting this dungeon connected to another dimension. Space-expansion dungeons existed, sure, but scaling to that degree was extraordinarily difficult.
The adventurers and mercenaries brought back beasts they'd slain—creatures I'd never seen before. Beasts not of this world, bolstering the other-dimension hypothesis.
But the real bombshell was the treasures from the deep-diving investigation teams. Incredibly valuable items that ignited greed across the lands.
A third investigation team was hastily assembled, unplanned. Elite mercenaries and adventurers formed parties to plunge even deeper.
The nations divvied up the official hauls, but merchants swarmed to buy what the freelancers extracted. Crowds swelled, and before long, the dungeon earned the name Great Labyrinth.
A small village sprang up around its entrance, growing rapidly. It breathed new life into the underdeveloped Eastern Continent compared to the West. Sadly, deaths inside the Great Labyrinth rose in tandem.
I had zero intention of entering unless forced. Once my combat skills hit a satisfactory level, I holed up in the mansion again.
[An unwelcome guest will visit soon.]
As I recorded as usual, Bastet tossed out that line before flopping back down.
An unwelcome guest... Come to think of it, I had too many such people—or entities—to narrow it down.
As I mulled over possibilities, something popped out of the empty air beside me. So this is how it feels when I do it to others.
"Greetings, Viscount Akasha."
There stood Count Ktolari, wearing an expression that seemed to say, Now you know how it feels?
"It's been a while, Count Ktolari."
After the clash between Kutula and Niala, Kutula had claimed the red gem but paid an unfathomable price. I'd wondered if it affected Count Ktolari, but he'd continued his routine life unchanged.
He seemed a touch annoyed at my calm greeting, but I just smiled and welcomed him.
As Count Ktolari scanned my study, his gaze landed on Bastet—and he began trembling violently, prostrating himself on the floor.
"I pay respects to the exalted one."
So he could sense it? I'd questioned why no one but me recognized Bastet all this time. Even Howard, after I told him her true nature, petted her like any ordinary cat.
Bastet, too lazy to speak, flicked her tail as if to say it was fine.
"Rise, Count Ktolari."
"Ah, yes."
Stealing glances at Bastet, he slowly stood. Bastet wasn't even looking his way.
"So, what brings you here?"
"Recently—well, I suppose I must abandon the Ktolari name now. In any case, we've relocated. Lord Kutula bade me invite you over."
"Don't tell me your new home is the Great Labyrinth?"
"You see through it at once. Precisely."
Thinking back, the Great Labyrinth was stoking human greed. I should've suspected Kutula. But why invite me specifically?
I don't believe in gods.