Endurance

"Two years. At the outside."

The party's faces went slack with horror.

Of course, two years was something of an exaggeration. Survival came first, yes, but I didn't actually believe it would take that long. Even if everything went spectacularly wrong, it wouldn't be two years.

But I felt they needed the exaggeration. I wanted to drive the situation home. I wanted them desperate.

We were currently at the very front of the pack, but that only meant we were still greenhorns who hadn't even been in the Tower for half a year. Get stuck here for two years, and we would no longer be the vanguard. All the strength we'd clawed together would turn to foam if we were pinned down in this place, our leveling frozen, unable to climb any further from the Lower Floors.

Their power had already surpassed what the Lower Floors demanded. But as the leading party, they had monopolized resources and opportunities until now. What happened if those opportunities dried up? If they could no longer climb?

Stagnation. There were still things left to digest for the moment, but that wouldn't last. Their physical growth would stall, and in the Middle Floor those same physical stats were nothing special — merely average. Not inadequate, exactly. Just no longer overwhelming.

The party wouldn't know any of this in such clinical terms, but they understood well enough that they had grown strong because they had been at the very front, monopolizing opportunity after opportunity with my help.

And if they lost that advantage?

For people who had seen every kind of ugliness the Tower had to offer, the prospect of becoming the weak ones again would be terrifying. Especially for those who had almost never suffered for lack of strength. Whenever their power had fallen short, I had stepped in and somehow made it work.

"T-two years?"

"It's a worst-case estimate. But yes. I think it could take that long."

"B-but our food..."

"We packed an enormous surplus just in case, so we can last close to a year on what we have. If ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠we hunt steadily instead of just burning through our stores, food won't be what stops us from lasting two years. And..."

I let my expression go grim.

"If the food really does run out... we'll just have to eat gnolls."

Eat gnolls. Eat monsters.

They looked like some unholy mash of dog, wolf, and hyena. They walked on two legs and four, but they were beasts, unmistakably. Even so, the mere suggestion of eating a monster — and the images that suggestion conjured — drained the color from every face in the party.

An instinctive, nameless revulsion. I meant every word.

Plenty of monsters could serve as food. The only real barrier was psychological. Gnolls, orcs, ogres — all edible. Trolls were even used to make potions from their blood, so eating them wasn't impossible either. Trolls just needed processing first.

Some of the Empire's minority tribes believed that consuming the flesh of a powerful foe granted you their strength, so whenever they hunted a strong orc or ogre, they always took a piece of the corpse.

"M-monsters...?"

"We can't exactly starve to death."

Joo Ha-yeon's hands trembled slightly as she realized I wasn't joking. I didn't let the hardness leave my face.

They needed to be more desperate than this.

Privately, I was estimating three months on the short end and a year on the long. I had simply doubled the number.

The moment the Golden Gnolls' central tribe had appeared on the border with Black Gnoll territory, the Black Gnolls would have no choice but to send their own central tribe — or something close to it — this way in force. Worst case, it would become an all-out war between the two tribes, and the moment they collided the scale of the fighting would be staggering.

And a war like that couldn't last. Their battles were total — they threw everything they had into the clash. Even the gnolls who should have been out hunting would get pulled into the fighting, and once the food ran short and they started eating each other, the population crash would be catastrophic.

Behind the Black Gnolls stood the Red Gnolls. Behind the Golden Gnolls, the Brown Gnolls. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Those four tribes, plus the last of the five — the Grey Gnolls. All five gnoll tribes shared borders, locked in a chain of mutual threat. They couldn't fight forever. After a certain point, unless they were prepared to accept extinction, they would have to pull back.

And when they did, we could slip across into Black Gnoll territory and carefully make our way out. I figured that window could open in as little as three months.

If they refused to back down — if they truly fought to mutual annihilation? Even better for me. We'd lose a little more time, but getting out would be that much easier.

So for now, I intended to set them at each other's throats and buy the party time to grow.

The reason for stirring the pot was simple.

One side has lost their sacred ground, and with it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠any chance of inheriting the Gnoll Hero. The other has just gained a successor who could become the Gnoll Hero. They might actually fight to the bitter end.

If things went well, they might genuinely fight each other to extinction. The Golden Gnolls might refuse to withdraw because of us. And if the Black ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Gnolls, now possessing a Hero candidate, decided the other side had caught wind of something and was coming for them — well. That would get very interesting.

Of course, that required the Black Gnolls to actually realize a Gnoll Hero successor had emerged among them. But it wasn't as if the candidate would be off training quietly in some forgotten corner. Every tribe would have poured everything they had into raising him.

If it played out that way... holding out here might turn into an even greater opportunity than I'd first thought.

The Golden Gnolls had no idea we had inventories or Labyrinth Fragments. They were intelligent enough to assume we couldn't last long, but...

It's fine. We can do this.

Even as I ran through the scenarios with a grave face, the party's expressions refused to lighten.

I felt we needed to cross into Area 30 first and establish a new base. Even the territory holding the central tribe was still Area 29. In the future, the Worshipping Golden Gnoll Tribe's holdings in what would become Area 30 would be incomparably larger than they were now. That was the place the Gnoll Hero had occupied after all five tribes united under him — of course it would be. Which meant that any region currently designated Area 30...

There was one place. I didn't know the precise location, but I had a fair idea. Not knowing exactly didn't matter. Direction would be enough.

"...Does anyone have an alternative to holding out?"

I asked the question deliberately. The party was silent.

They're a little cornered.

Between the talk of eating monsters and the reality of our isolation, they had no room left to think. A bad habit. I'd need to put them through a wider range of experiences going forward. That would help.

"Then we move. We'll avoid them and find a place where we can hold out and keep growing."

"...Growing?"

"Ha-yeon, Eun-ju, Seo-yoon — all of you can still grow stronger. If you do, we may be able to slip out earlier, once an opening appears. Depending on how far that growth takes you, of course..."

A sliver of hope. Their faces changed.

That was right. They still had room to get stronger. The talk of eating monsters and the weight of the situation had shaken them so badly they hadn't thought that far in the moment. With a little more composure, they would have gotten there themselves.

"If you get strong enough... we might even turn the tables. Kill the gnolls after they've worn each other down, and walk out at our leisure."

A pipe dream. But the odds weren't zero. The inheritance had made them enormously powerful, and they still didn't know the limits of that power. Besides... the ones who had given them that power had killed even the Gnoll Hero. I couldn't call it impossible.

"Th-that's right. Yes. If we get stronger, we could break out on our own."

Joo Ha-yeon's words came out awkward. She seemed to have realized, herself, how badly she'd been rattled.

"Then it's decided. We hold out."

The party nodded, their faces set with resolve.

It took about ten days to reach Area 30. No one followed us. The gnolls apparently hadn't imagined we'd come this way. Fair enough. Even for them, what lay ahead was dangerous ground.

The Area 30 we found was a region in the thick of desertification.

The moment the designation appeared, the party's faces tightened with unease.

Even the border zone where the Worshipping Golden Gnoll Tribe was encamped against the Black Gnolls was only designated Area 29. So what kind of place was Area 30?

We didn't have to wait long to find out.

An environment utterly unlike Area 29. Ten days' travel, and yet Area 30 might as well have been another world. The swing between day and night was brutal. There were no animals. Nothing to eat. Without the food in our inventories, the environment alone would have starved us in short order.

And yet there were still monsters.

Sand Worms. I'd known they existed on the Lower Floors — a parched desert I'd only ever heard rumors of, a place I'd never actually visited. In this cycle, arriving here for the first time, we met them.

The ones responsible for turning this region into desert. Against that monster, the party couldn't bring their full strength to bear. They'd never fought something that hunted them from beneath the earth.

Under my lead, after more than a few close calls, we brought down our first Sand Worm. Then we wandered in search of somewhere safe.

"Bugs, huh... Well. At least we've got something to eat besides gnolls."

The women in the party dry-heaved at that.

Picking a decent site for a base camp and settling in took another five days or so, and in that time the party had to fight Sand Worms more than once.

Once the camp was established and the party could take down a Sand Worm without me, I told them to train and keep watch, and announced that I would scout the gnoll border zone alone.

They objected fiercely. Going off alone was a bad idea. It was too dangerous.

I told them I'd be fine. Training myself would be far less efficient than what the three who'd received inheritances could achieve — my growth was plainly slower — so I was the one who should be out reading the situation. Besides, I had a Labyrinth Fragment. Alone, I could survive anything.

Understanding the situation mattered. We'd decided to hold out specifically so we could escape. Staying pinned down for lack of information would be absurd.

My reasoning left them looking genuinely pained. Nam Eun-ju's face, in particular, was something to behold.

"If I... if you'd gotten this power instead of me, Shin-hoo..."

Yeah. If I'd gotten even a real paladin's power, there might have been a way to break out right now. I could have gone guerrilla on my own.

"Don't say that. I chose this. I gave it to you because you needed it. Spend that energy training harder, not thinking like that."

"...Y-yes. I'm sorry, Shin-hoo..."

Nam Eun-ju looked like she was about to cry. No — she was already crying.

I didn't comfort her any further. This wasn't the time for comfort.

Before long the tears stopped, and her face hardened with resolve. Nam Eun-ju, who already worked harder than anyone in the party. Now she had potential to match. I was looking forward to watching her improve.

And so I left the party at the base camp and headed back toward the border.